Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

October 26, 1999

“Tali-Keno,” Mulder said excitedly as he opened the door to the office, causing Scully to startle and glare at him. 

“Jesus Christ, Mulder,” she said, letting out an exasperated breath. “Whatever happened to good morning. How are you today?” 

“Good morning, Scully,” he replied with a grin, hanging up his coat as she crossed her arms and stared at him. “How are you today?” 

She rolled her eyes, but could not stop her lips from quirking as she shook her head. 

“I was doing well until you burst in here like an overly sugared toddler,” she stated and he laughed as he stepped closer to her. “What were you saying? Something about a teddy corn?” 

“Tali-Keno,” he corrected her and she shrugged as he grinned. 

“Who, or more than likely what, is a Tali-Keno?” she asked and he chuckled. 

“The Tali-Keno is believed to have lived hundreds of years ago-”

“Hmm,” she hummed, shaking her head. 

“And recently it’s been spotted.” 

“Has it?” 

“Yup!” he said excitedly, turning to the filing cabinet and rifling through the drawers. “It was believed to only appear in October, around Halloween, scaring children and causing adults to take caution, staying home to avoid being killed or maimed.” 

“Sounds like a story told to keep townspeople in line. Most likely as a balance between God and the Devil. Good and evil.” 

“Oh, Scully,” he said, taking out a file and slamming the drawer. He smiled and opened the file, handing her a piece of paper with an old drawing of a large gargoyle type creature. 

“Mulder,” she scoffed, laughing slightly. “You can’t be serious. This is a generic drawing that could be anything aside from what it is supposed to be. It could be a large dog, perhaps a person in a cloak or a jacket. Perhaps the person who claimed to have seen it was drunk or suffering from a sickness. There are many things it could be aside from this… tall, grotesque… are those wings?” She looked at him and he nodded happily. “Mulder…” 

“Okay, I can see that drawing hasn’t won you over.” 

“Hardly,” she murmured, handing him back the paper as he chuckled. 

“How about this one then?” He handed her another one and it was almost identical, except this creature had red eyes and claws dripping with blood. She looked at him and sighed. “Or this one?” 

Another drawing, very similar to the other two, was handed to her and she shook her head with a smile as she gave them both back to him. 

“What?” 

“Mulder, no.” 

“What do you mean, no?” 

“I mean,” she said, pointing to the file. “This “creature”-”

“I don’t think there’s a need for air quotes here, Scully,” he deadpanned and she fought back a laugh. 

“This… idea,” she said, raising her eyebrows and he nodded with a small smile, accepting the change. She rolled her eyes and licked her lips to stop from smiling back at him. “This belief, or legend, is not unlike the hundreds we’ve investigated already.” 

“No, it’s different.” 

“How?” she asked, crossing her arms. 

“It only appears around Halloween.” 

“And?” 

“And? You need more? It’s Halloween, Scully,” he said, giving her an incredulous look. 

“And?” she asked again. 

“What do you mean? How are you not getting this? It’s a creature. It’s Halloween.” 

He stared at her and she blinked a few times before shrugging her shoulders and making a face. His mouth dropped open and she laughed, reaching out to pat his arm. 

“Mulder, we have investigated many “monsters and creatures”-”

“Again with the air quotes,” he said, sighing as he shook his head and she laughed again. 

“We’ve investigated many unbelievable things and often it’s not a monster, it’s simply a person or… an alligator.” 

“How dare you,” he said quietly and she laughed harder, shaking her head at his expression of mock outrage. 

“Mulder…” she said, smiling and placing her hands palms up as she shrugged again. “I don’t see how Skinner is going to allow us to go chasing after this thing without any cause.” 

“It’s been seen, Scully. Eyewitness accounts.” 

“Not by a lake,” she said teasingly and he narrowed his eyes at her. “Because we’ve already solved that one.” 

“I refer you to my previously stated comment,” he said and she smiled. 

God, but he is cute, she thought, her eyes flicking quickly to his lips then back to his eyes. 

“I’m not going to some lake to hunt down a monster,” she said. “I have no desire to end up stuck on a rock watching our boat sink.” 

“Well, you’re in luck. It’s not been spotted near a lake.” 

“That’s good.” 

“It’s been seen in a graveyard.” 

“Mmm,” she growled, her eyebrows knitting together. 

“An old graveyard at the edge of a forest.” 

“Ughhhhh,” she drawled out and he could not suppress a grin. 

“Always after midnight.” 

“Mullllllderrrrr,” she whined and he laughed, squeezing her upper arm. “Noooooo…” 

“It will be quick, hopefully, as Halloween is in five days.” 

“Noooo,” she said softly, groaning as she stared at him. 

“Four people have reported seeing it in the graveyard before it then hurries at impossible speed back into the forest.” 

“Oh, that sounds like it will be super easy to solve,” she said sarcastically. “Why are we still talking about it? Why aren’t we on our way to… where is it?” 

“Vermont.” 

She blinked at him then exhaled loudly through her nose. 

“Vermont,” she said flatly. 

“Mm-hmm.” 

“Vermont. In the fall. In a graveyard near a forest.” 

“Colonel Mustard with the lead pipe,” he teased and she inhaled sharply. 

“Do you have any idea how cold it’s going to be if we do go gallivanting off?” 

“Not if, when.”

“Mulder,” she said, shaking her head. “No.” 

“Scully, yes,” he said gleefully. “We have a briefing with Skinner in… twenty minutes.” 

“What? No. Why? Noooo. Mulderrrrr,” she whined again and he laughed, now squeezing both her arms. 

“Make sure to pack some warm clothes, Scully. We’re heading off to the beautiful state of Vermont.” 

She groaned and he laughed once more as her shoulders slumped and she hung her head in defeat. 

Chapter Text

They sat on the couch, waiting to be called into Skinner’s office. Mulder was overly excited, his thoughts on the drawings of the Tali-Keno, hoping they would catch a glimpse of it. 

“There is a possibility of snow at this time of year in Vermont, Mulder,” Scully said quietly beside him and he smiled. 

“I don’t think it will snow,” he replied and she inhaled as she crossed her arms. 

“You’re a meteorologist now, I had no idea.” 

“I dabble in many areas,” he said with a shrug and she laughed under her breath, shaking her head as she looked toward Skinner’s office door. 

“Don’t confuse my laughter for acceptance. Skinner will listen to reason at least,” she said and he hummed at a high pitch as he folded his hands in lap. 

Her head whipped to look at him and he met her eyes for a second before the door opened and he jumped up quickly. 

“Agents,” Skinner said, holding the door open and gesturing for them to enter. 

Scully stood up, holding Mulder’s gaze, and he smiled as she walked ahead of him. Skinner sighed as he closed the door behind them and sat down at his desk. 

“Good morning. Agent Scully, I’m sure Agent Mulder has filled you in on the case, but I needed to give you a bit more information.” 

“Sir?” Scully said and Mulder watched her shift slightly in her seat, not looking in his direction. “I’m sorry, but Agent Mulder hasn’t told me anything about the case.” 

“I did. I mentioned the-”

“If you could please continue,” she said, speaking over Mulder, cutting her eyes to him, and giving him a small shake of her head. 

“Men have been disappearing in a town outside of Burlington, Vermont,” Skinner began with a sigh. “Two were reported a month ago and it has now risen to four. The first man was found last night, dehydrated, cold, and with unexplained injuries. He has not spoken about what happened to him and the local authorities are perplexed as to what happened to him, so they have asked for help.” 

“Wait,” Scully said, sitting forward in her chair. “This is… there’s an actual case?” 

“Yes, Agent Scully. What did you think we were doing here?” Skinner asked, his tone short.

“I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t aware-”

“Sir, Agent Scully and I did not discuss the case in full. We only discussed what I believed could have caused these disappearances.” 

“You believe you know?” Skinner asked and Mulder nodded. 

“The Tali-Keno,” he said and he heard Scully inhale sharply as she turned her head toward him. 

“What Agent Mulder is saying,” she said, giving him a hard stare. “Is that we were discussing something else and then he mentioned this meeting.” 

“No,” Mulder said, shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“Mulder,” Scully said in a harsh warning whisper, but he paid her no heed. 

“The Tali-Keno is a creature believed to be seen around Halloween,” he stated as Scully groaned and looked down at her lap. 

“A creature?” Skinner asked, sighing with a shake of his head. “Agent Mulder…” 

“There have been eyewitness accounts, sir. Sightings of the creature that haven’t been seen in hundreds of years.” 

“Agent Mulder,” he said again, glancing at Scully who was still looking down at her lap. 

“The Tali-Keno was believed to only appear around Halloween, a time when people believed the spirits of the dead returned to earth. People were told the Tali-Keno would attack, snatch children, or cause general mayhem if provoked, therefore it was best to stay home and out of trouble.” 

“And you believe that… these men who have disappeared-” 

“While known to be in a graveyard, surrounded by a forest.”

“- have been taken by an entity-”

“Creature,” Mulder interrupted again, and Skinner sighed with another glance at Scully. 

“Creature,” Skinner said, closing his eyes briefly. “A creature that hasn’t been seen in hundreds of years?” 

“And from all I’ve read about it, is known to be indigenous to West Virginia.” 

“But you believe it’s been sighted in Vermont?” Skinner asked and Mulder nodded. “How did it get way up there? And why?” 

“Questions we’ll ask when we get there,” Mulder said with a grin. 

“Agent Mulder, three men are missing. One is injured and may possibly never speak again. I hardly think this is a laughing matter,” Skinner said sternly and Mulder stopped smiling, glancing quickly at Scully. 

“Yes, sir,” he said, nodding his head as he tried to appear solemn. 

Skinner sighed and shuffled papers around on his desk before holding a file out toward Scully. She rose from the chair and took it, holding it against her chest. 

“Go and see what you can do to help. Hopefully you can get that man to talk and find out more information to bring the person responsible to justice.” 

“Yes, sir,” Scully said with a nod as Mulder stood beside her and Skinner fixed him with a hard look. 

“You’ll notice I said person and not creature, Agent Mulder. I’m not sending you on a wild goose chase here. These men and their families need our help.” 

“Yes, sir,” Mulder replied. “We’ll do what we can.” 

“See that it’s so, Agent Scully,” Skinner said and she nodded, glancing quickly at Mulder. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You have a flight at two and I expect to hear from you by this evening.” He nodded at them and then looked at the door, signaling that they were dismissed. 

“Yes, sir,” they both said, walking to the door. 

Mulder placed his hand on Scully’s back as they walked into the hall and toward the elevator, his head bent close to hers. 

“Looks like you’re in charge,” he said quietly and she chortled as he pushed the down button on the elevator pad. 

“If I was in charge, we’d stay here and not be flying to Vermont near the beginning of November.” 

“Think of the fall colors, Scully,” he said as they entered the elevator and he pressed the button for their floor. “I’m sure it’s beautiful there this time of year.” 

“Yes,” she said, opening the file and looking through it. “That will be a comforting fact when I can’t feel my toes and we’re deep in a forest yet again- at least the surroundings will be beautiful.” 

“That’s the spirit,” he said, punching her lightly on the arm. 

She looked up at him, shaking her head as she closed the file and sighed. 

“I get the pick of rooms. And I want the one with the best heater.” 

“Whatever you want, Scully,” he said, waving his hands out wide to indicate his offering. 

“Good,” she said as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. “And you’re buying me a coffee at the airport. A big one. Very strong.” 

“Gladly,” he said, smiling as she walked out ahead of him and his eyes fell to her hips, mesmerized by the swing of them. “Whatever you want.” 

Chapter Text

Pines Motel
8:30 p.m.

“He didn’t speak to you?” Skinner asked. 

“No, sir,” Scully said, rotating her neck as she stood at the back of the rental car and Mulder took out both of their bags from the trunk. “The doctors said his blood pressure had begun to rise and he was extremely agitated. They sedated him so he could rest.” 

“And his injuries?” 

“Dehydrated as you mentioned. Cuts and bruises, a few that are…” She drew in a breath and let it out, not quite of how she wanted to phrase her words. 

“What, Agent Scully?” 

“The injuries are odd. I hesitate to say until I know more, but they seem almost… ritualistic.” She paused, catching Mulder’s expression of raised eyebrows as she heard Skinner sigh loudly in her ear along with the sound of ice cubes falling into a glass. 

“Ritualistic?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“It can’t ever just be cut and dry, can it?” he mused and she turned away from Mulder as she smiled softly. 

“Not usually, sir,” she said and he huffed out a breath. 

“Okay, thank you for the update. Hope for better news tomorrow.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Goodnight, Agent Scully.” 

“And to you.” 

She hung up and put her phone in her pocket, turning back to Mulder and sighing. 

“Was he angry that we couldn't speak to the victim?” 

“No,” she said, taking her bag from him. “But, I believe we may have driven him to drink. I heard ice filling a glass.” She gave him a look and he nodded. 

“Or… maybe he has company,” he suggested as they made their way to the motel rental office. “Did you hear any dulcet tones asking him to please leave work at the office and to join her?” 

Scully stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes as she tried not to allow that image into her mind. 

“Maybe Peggy, the receptionist on the third floor? I’ve heard her mention him before,” he continued. 

“Mulder,” she warned as she shook her head. 

“Agent Rhodes, Jackie, do you know her? She said one time she’d like to bounce a quarter off his ass. No wait, I think she said a fifty cent piece. Said she thought he could handle it.” 

“Could you stop?” she asked, opening her eyes and staring at him. “I don’t want to have those thoughts about Skinner in my head.” 

“Everybody does it, Scully. Didn’t you say so yourself once?” He grinned at her and she shook her head. 

“There’s a huge difference between the discussion of the drive of a species to procreate and thinking about your boss having a fifty cent piece bouncing off his ass, thank you very much.” 

“Hmm,” he hummed, smiling at her as he reached for the handle and pulled the door open, a bell tinkling from above as he held it for her. “He wears tighty-whities, Scully. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” 

She stopped again and looked at him as he raised his eyebrows and nodded. 

“Goddamn you, Mulder,” she said under her breath as she walked beneath his arm into the lobby and he laughed as he followed her. 

“Hello,” said the young woman behind the counter with a smile. “Welcome to the Pines Motel. I’m Darcy. Do you have a reservation?” 

“We do,” Scully said, smiling back with a nod, and taking out her badge. “Agents Scully and Mulder.” 

“Oh, you’re here about the missing men,” Darcy stated, shaking her head, her long black hair brushing the tops of her shoulders. “It’s terrible. Just terrible.” 

“Do you know any of the men?” Mulder asked and she shook her head again.

“Not personally, no. But I know of them. One of them is… was? the brother of a girl I knew in elementary school.” She sighed as she looked up their reservation on the computer and nodded as she reached for two room keys with on green keychains. 

“Do you have any idea as to why they would have disappeared?” Mulder continued his questioning and Darcy stared at him, unblinking. 

“I don’t,” she said in a low voice. “But… I mean, you’re with the government, right? You’re here to help?” 

Mulder glanced quickly at Scully and then smiled at Darcy as he leaned against the counter. 

“We are,” he said with a nod and Darcy nodded back. 

“Brent, my old classmate's brother, he… he was into some weird shit.” 

“What do you mean?” Scully asked with a frown. 

“I… I probably shouldn’t say, but if it helps to find him…?” She looked at Mulder and he smiled kindly at her. With a sigh, she nodded. “Drugs mostly. And he hung out with this group of people who liked going to old graveyards and having “parties” where they acted out deaths or held seances, calling back spirits from the graves around them.” 

“Did you ever go to the parties?” 

“Once,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It was during a weekend home from college a few years back. Honestly, the parties are really just an excuse to get smashed and then have sex in the graveyard. Not really my thing. Then or now. It’s too creepy.” 

“Well,” Mulder said and shifted slightly. He cleared his throat and Scully frowned, wondering what was causing his discomfort. 

“Maybe people saw them continue with the parties, especially around this time of year, and they didn’t like the desecration of a sacred place?” Scully offered and Darcy shrugged. 

“I don’t know. I just know it wasn’t my scene and the next time I was asked, my answer was no thanks.” She smiled as she handed them the keys to rooms six and seven. “I hope you’re able to find Brent and the others. He’s not the best person I know, but he doesn’t deserve whatever happened to him.” 

“Thank you, Darcy,” Mulder said, smiling at her as they stepped back. “We-”

“I did what you asked,” a young boy said as the door opened suddenly, slamming against the outside of the building, the bell tinkling loudly. “What else do you want me to do, Darce?” He ignored Mulder and Scully, walking between them and toward the counter as he pushed his dark blonde hair from his eyes. 

“Jesus, Steven,” Darcy said, rolling her eyes. “Be careful. The door nearly came off its hinges.” 

“Oh, calm down,” he said, looking back at the door and finally noticing Mulder and Scully standing there. “Who’re you?” 

“They’re FBI agents, Steven.” 

“Really? Like in the movies?” he asked excitedly, walking to Scully and smiling. “Can I see your badge?” 

She looked at the boy, who could not have been older than twelve, and nodded as she took her badge out to show him. 

“Wow,” he said, touching it and then looking at her. “That’s so bitchin’.” 

“Steven! You better not let mom hear you say that.” 

“I won’t,” he assured her, rolling his eyes at Scully and she felt an instant liking to him. “Can you tell me about being an FBI agent? Have you ever arrested anyone? Or… oh, shot anyone?” 

“Steven,” Darcy groaned. “Let them go to their rooms. Sorry. He’s my little brother. I know he can be a pest.” 

“I’m not a pest,” Steven shot back. “I just want to know.” 

“If you help me with my bag, I’ll tell you,” Scully said and Steven’s eyes widened as he took her bag and nodded. 

“Which room are you in? I can show you where to find it.” 

“Well, there’s some debate on that,” Scully said, taking Mulder’s key from him with a sly smile. “Point us in the direction of rooms six and seven, please.” 

Mulder smiled as he thanked Darcy again and then opened the door, letting Scully and Steven walk out first. 

It was not far to their rooms and soon they were saying goodnight to Steven, who seemed awestruck by both of them after hearing how they had both arrested people, though they did not mention people they had shot, even as Mulder had rubbed near his right shoulder with a wink to Scully. 

Setting her bag down in room six, she turned the heater on to its maximum level. Mulder waited outside while she then opened door number seven and again turned on the heater, staring at him from the doorway. 

“Shouldn’t take too long,” she said and he shrugged with a smile. 

“Okay. But can I at least set my bag down?” 

“No,” she said, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “Holding it while you wait for the rooms to warm up will be your penance for the information you shared about Skinner. I can’t unhear that or scrub that image from my brain, so you get to stand in the cold, with your bag, while I choose between the rooms.” 

He laughed and nodded, his bag hanging from his shoulder, as he put his hands in his pockets. 

She walked back and forth, testing out the warmth of each room and muttering tighty-whities under her breath every time she passed him. Finally deciding that room six would be best for her, she handed him the key to room seven. 

“Of course, if the heater craps out in the middle of the night, I will be taking your room,” she informed him as he took the key. 

“No, you’ll be sharing the room,” he corrected her. “I don’t have any plans to move from a comfortably warmed room into a cold one. I’ll be sure to save you a nice warm spot, if your heater does indeed crap out.” She stared at him as he smiled. “Goodnight, Scully. Give a shout if you need to join me.” 

He walked to his door and she walked to her own, glancing at him as he paused and looked over at her. 

“For any reason,” he said, his smile gone and his eyes serious. He nodded and went inside his room, closing the door behind him, as her breathing rate increased and she stood on the threshold of her room. 

Stepping into her room and closing the door, his words continued ringing in her ears for quite some time. 

Give a shout if you need to join me… 

For any reason… 

Chapter Text

Four Pines Cemetery 
October 27th
9:30 a.m. 

“The dates on some of these headstones, Scully,” Mulder said as he stopped and looked at a very old one, wiping it with two fingers. “1822. It’s amazing to think of people living here then. What they would think if they came back for a day.” 

“Or if we were transported back,” she said, a few feet ahead of him. 

“Oh, talk about time travel some more, but use bigger words,” he said, grinning as he looked up and she flipped him off over her shoulder. He laughed and continued trudging through wet leaves as he followed her. 

“You might notice,” she said and stopped walking to look at him as she gestured to the surrounding area. “There are no beautiful leaves on the trees.” 

“Well, because they’re on the ground. That’s why it’s called fall, Scully. The leaves fall from the trees and collect on the ground. I’m surprised you didn’t know that,” he said, grinning as he brushed past her. 

“You should be more surprised that I didn’t punch you as you walked by, smart ass,” she said and he laughed. 

He suddenly slipped and caught himself on the edge of a headstone, managing to not fall completely, as his hand pressed hard into the old stone. 

“Oh, look at that, nature took care of you for me,” she quipped, placing a hand on his back and waiting until he had his footing before letting go. “You okay?” 

“Yeah. Thanks.” 

“Gotta watch out for all the fallen leaves,” she said and he gave a fake laugh at her corny joke. 

He was more careful with his steps, paying attention to the heavy foliage on the ground, not wanting to repeat his actions, his hand stinging from the force he had placed upon it. 

“Here,” she said and he flexed his hand with a slight wince as he turned toward her. 

There was a raised plinth behind a large headstone upon which sat a collection of empty bottles of beer, tequila, and vodka. 

“Some of these have been here for a while,” she said, looking at them closer. “The labels are peeled away on the ones in the back.” 

She shook her head and kept walking as he searched the grounds for any signs of recent activity. 

“There’s more here. Oh, a condom wrapper… and the condom. Lovely,” she said and he joined her, finding her squatting near the condom. “Darcy was right. They’re partying out here and having sex. Leaving behind their trash and DNA. Can’t think of a less romantic place for a tryst.” 

“Most likely not about romance at all,” he said. “Just people blowing off steam or succumbing to the alcohol and chemicals in their systems. Or both.” 

“Speaking from experience?” she asked with a teasing smile as she stood up and he glanced at her before looking away. “Oh… things got a little rowdy out there on the vineyard?” 

“Could have, but I wouldn’t know,” he said with a tight smile as he looked at the ground. “For me it was at Oxford.” 

“Oh,” she said after a beat. 

“Yeah,” he said, meeting her eyes for a brief second and then staring at the bottles on the headstone. “Put a bunch of broken young adults together, despite their intelligence, they’re still broken. Still searching for… for something.” 

He smiled tightly again and his gaze landed on the condom wrapper. 

“Probably what these people are doing too. Searching for something, but not sure what it is or how to find it.” He shrugged and let out a sigh as he looked at her. “I was different back then, someone I wouldn’t recognize today, if I’m completely honest. But, I can sympathize and understand why they would meet out here and…” He gestured to the condom and she looked at it before turning her attention back to him. 

“It’s a… well, not romantic in the common definition of the word, but… considering death and life, and rebirth, there is a sense of that kind of romance.” He smiled sadly and she blinked twice before she nodded. 

“Yeah,” she said, her voice catching. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Yeah. I understand what you’re saying.” 

“Good,” he said. “Keep looking?”

She nodded and they separated, searching the area for any further evidence. 

Standing at the tree line to the forest, he paused. Scully was less than twenty feet away, but suddenly it felt as though she was miles from him. 

The forest was dark, despite the sun shining overhead, and the air around him felt thick and heavy. He put a hand out and moved his fingers slowly, almost believing that he could feel them pushing through the air and slicing it. 

Taking a breath, he stepped forward, a branch breaking beneath his feet. His hand that had gripped the headstone throbbed and he made a low noise of surprise. Rubbing it with his other hand, he took another step into the forest, the air seeming even heavier. 

“You see something?” Scully asked and he nearly jumped out of his skin. 

“Fucking hell,” he said, breathing hard as he turned to face her. 

“Whoa,” she said, her hands up at chest height. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“You didn’t. You just…” 

He drew in a deep breath and let it out as he looked back at the forest. The air felt different now and when he heard a bird chirping, he realized there had been an absence of noise before Scully had joined him. 

“You okay?” she asked, stepping to stand beside him, her arms crossed as she looked into the forest. “Did you see something?” 

“No,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I just thought I’d take a look. See if there was anything.” 

“You wanna go in further, see if-”

“No,” he said quickly and she looked at him in surprise. “I don’t want… you didn’t feel that?” 

“Feel what?” she asked, looking around as the branches blew gently. “The wind?” 

“No. It wasn’t the wind. It was…” He put his hand out again, moving his fingers slowly, but it no longer felt the same. “…something.” 

“Mulder?” 

“I don’t know, Scully. But I think it would be better to come back with more people. More eyes around to… keep an eye out. So to speak.” He smiled at her and she raised her eyebrows in reply. 

“Okay. It’s not a bad idea considering the size of the place.” 

“Yeah,” he said, turning around and placing a hand on her elbow to guide her back to the graveyard. 

“Mulder, you sure you’re okay?” she asked, laying a hand on his arm. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“Not that you believe in them,” he murmured with a forced smile and she squeezed his arm. 

“Seriously though, you’re okay?” 

“Yeah. I’m…” He looked toward the forest and then back at her. “I’m okay.” 

“Hmm,” she hummed, her eyes roaming his face. “Should we head over to the sheriff’s office?” 

“Yeah. Good idea.” 

“Alright.” 

They started walking back to the car, neither speaking, though she kept glancing at him, obviously concerned by the way he had been behaving. 

“Are you trying to scare me about the forest?” she suddenly asked and he frowned. 

“What? No. Why would I do that?” 

“Because,” she said with a sigh, stopping him with a touch on his arm. “You talked about a creature that lives on the edge of a graveyard-”

“Scully,” he said tersely, taking her arm and continuing to walk towards the car. 

“Mulder, what are you doing?” 

“I just… get in the car first.” 

“What?” 

“Please, just get in.” 

He opened her door and then hurried to the drivers side, getting in and closing the door. He let out a deep breath and looked over at Scully, as she stared at him, searching his eyes. 

“Okay,” she said quietly. “You have my attention. Tell me one more time.” 

He nodded as he started the car, not wanting to discuss it until they were safely away from the graveyard. 

His hand twinged again as they drove down the road and stopped at a stop sign. He glanced down at it, wondering why it hurt as bad as it did. It looked normal, a little red, but otherwise it was fine. He rubbed at it as he pressed on the gas, leaving the graveyard behind. 

A rabbit darted around the headstones and birds flew from the trees, as heavy silence began to fall upon the forest once again, the swish of a cloak the last thing that was heard. 

Chapter Text

“I’m telling you, you need to check again,” a woman was saying as they walked into the sheriff’s station. 

“Ashley, please calm down.” 

“No, I won’t. My brother is missing and it seems like you are doing fuck all about it. There’s been nothing new and it’s been a week.” She started crying and the man came from behind the counter, and pulled her in for a hug. 

Scully glanced at Mulder and he nodded, watching the interaction between the two. 

“I promise you that we’re looking, Ashley,” he said quietly and she cried harder. “I know you’re worried about him, of course you are, but I assure you, we are trying to find him.” 

“I know,” Ashley cried. “I know you are. I’m sorry…” She started sobbing and the man led her to a couch, sitting down beside her and continuing to speak in hushed tones. 

“Can I help you?” another man asked softly and Scully and Mulder turned to look at him. 

“Yeah,” she said, taking out her badge as Mulder did the same. “Agents Scully and Mulder.” 

“Oh, yeah,” he said with a nod at them and then the man sitting on the couch. “Ned said you’d be by today. I’m Lyle, deputy sheriff.”

“Nice to meet you. Is there a place we could talk?” Scully asked, glancing toward Ned and Ashley, who’s tears had started to slow as he handed her a tissue from a box beside the couch.

“Yeah, we could use Ned’s office. Follow me.” 

They started toward the office, but made it no further than five steps before Ashley spoke to them. 

“Wait! You’re from the FBI?” she asked, standing up quickly from the couch and wiping her eyes on the tissue in her hand. 

“We are, yes,” Mulder said and Scully nodded. 

“You’re here about the missing men?” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh,” she said, sobbing in a breath. “Thank god. My brother… his name is Arthur Harvey and he’s one of the ones who are missing. I don’t know how or why this happened to him.” 

“Arthur Harvey. He disappeared a week ago?” Mulder asked and she nodded. 

“You know about him?” she asked, looking hopeful. 

“Yes. I read about his disappearance.” 

“That’s not all that he is, just some man who disappeared,” she said, angrily wiping at her eyes. “He’s my brother and I…” She started crying again and Scully went to her, touching her gently on the back. 

“Why don’t you tell us more about him?” she said, smiling kindly at Ashley. She nodded and Scully met Lyle’s eyes, silently asking for his help. 

A cup of coffee was cooling as it sat on Ned's desk in front of Ashley. She had cried, using quite a few tissues, before she had been able to speak. 

“Arthur and I are twins. He’s older by four minutes and he’s always lorded that over me,” she said with a sad laugh, tracing her finger along the edge of the desk. “He teased me all the time, telling me I had to listen to him, because he was older and wiser.” 

Scully smiled and then glanced at Mulder. His eyes softened as he listened to Ashley and smiled as she took a sip of her coffee. She knew he had already warmed to Ashley, seeing Samantha in her and wanting to help in any way he could. 

“He disappeared from the cemetery,” Mulder stated and Ashley nodded with a loud sniff. 

“We were there-”

“You both were?” Mulder asked, tilting his head slightly. 

“Yes, us and about fifteen other people.” 

“Okay.” 

“We were there at about nine, maybe a little later. I don’t remember exactly. He didn’t really want to go, but…” 

“You did,” Scully said quietly and Ashley nodded as she looked down at the table. 

“I’d gotten in a fight with my boyfriend and I wanted to forget about him for a little while. Have fun with some friends and just… God, if I had known…” 

“But you didn’t,” Mulder said and she raised her head to look at him. He smiled softly and Ashley sniffled again. “It’s not your fault.” 

“It feels like it,” she whispered. 

“I know,” he whispered back and for what felt like the millionth time, Scully wished she could heal the pain he carried from losing Samantha. 

“So what happened at the party?” Scully asked, redirecting the conversation. Ashley glanced at her and then sighed, picking up her cup and taking another sip, before returning it to the desk. 

“We were drinking. Some people were…” She looked at Ned, who was sitting silently behind his desk. He nodded and she sighed. “There were drugs being passed around. I don’t… I had a bad trip once and it turned me off to anything aside from pot.” 

“What about Arthur?” 

“No. He didn’t take drugs. Didn’t really like drinking. He was the old man of the party even though we’re only twenty two. There were older people there, but he just naturally fell into the role of watcher and protector. He always did… does…” Ashley started crying softly and Ned pushed the box of tissues closer to her. She took two and blew her nose as she cried and they waited. 

“Two men disappeared that night. Arthur and Brent Hopkins,” Ned said and Mulder and Scully nodded. 

“Brent,” Ashley spat out, shaking her head. “I don’t care if you ever find him.” 

“Ashley,” Ned admonished. 

“I don’t,” she said, staring at him with angry eyes. “This is all his fault.” 

“How do you figure?” Mulder asked. 

“Because he… he arranged these parties. He provided the alcohol and especially the drugs. He…” 

She stopped speaking and they all knew she was thinking what they were thinking. Brent may have provided the entertainment, but they all were willing participants. 

Unless they weren’t, Scully thought. 

“Did Brent force anyone to do anything they didn’t want to do?” Scully asked and Ashley let out a deep breath as she shook her head. 

“No. Not ever,” she admitted. “He… he would say that it “enhanced the experience” but he never made anyone take anything they didn’t want. I know it’s not his fault, but…” 

“You’re understandably worried about your brother,” Mulder said and she nodded. 

“He drank though,” Scully said and Ashley looked at her in confusion. “Arthur, I mean. He was drinking that night.” 

“Yeah. Like… maybe a beer or two. Maybe a couple shots. Maybe. He usually only stuck to beer, if he was drinking.” 

“When was the last time you saw him?” Mulder asked and she dropped her head back as she closed her eyes. 

“Ten thirty? Maybe eleven?” she said, shaking her head as she brought it back up and looked at Mulder. “I was… I was pretty tipsy, having a great time and planning to join the planned seance at midnight. Arthur said he wasn’t going to, but he’d wait for me in the car if I wanted to do that. I… waved him away with a laugh as someone handed me a joint and I took a hit. He shook his head but smiled at me as I started to dance and then I forgot all about him.” She sniffled loudly and dabbed at her eyes as she shook her head. “I went to the car at about two and the door was open, but he wasn’t there. Keys in the ignition, lights on… he was just gone.” 

Mulder looked at Scully as she breathed slowly, wondering what would have compelled him to leave the car. 

“Maybe he had to pee?” Mulder suggested. “He got out and… got lost?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Agent Scully and I just came from the cemetery. Considering that it was night, it’s plausible that he got lost or he-”

“No,” Ashley said, shaking her head vehemently. “He wouldn’t get lost.” 

“He’d been drinking,” Scully said and Ashley frowned as she looked at her. 

“What are you saying?” 

“Alcohol lessens your cognitive abilities.” 

“But he wasn’t drinking much, like I said. He never does. He wouldn’t have had enough to make him abandon the car and disappear. To abandon me.”

“Is it something you drank?” Scully asked and Ashley looked at her in confusion again. “I mean that he drank?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her tone sharp. 

“Could he have been drugged without his knowledge and it made him act out of character?” 

“Drugged?” 

“Yeah. You said there was quite the selection to choose from.” 

“You think… that someone would drug him?” 

“I don’t know. But is it possible?” 

“I… I don’t think it’s impossible,” Ashley said. “But why would they do that to Arthur? He’s one of the sweetest people you’ll ever meet.” 

“Because people are assholes,” Mulder said with an edge to his voice. “And they would see drugging him as something funny to do, to see how he reacted under the influence.” 

“But that’s… that’s terrible,” Ashley breathed and Mulder nodded as Scully’s cell phone rang. She excused herself and left the room to answer it. 

“Scully,” she said, meeting Lyle’s eyes as he smiled from his desk. 

“Agent Scully? This is Doctor Huron at Pines Hospital, we met yesterday when you came to check on Peter.” 

“Yes, hello,” she said, thinking of the older doctor that had told them of the first victim's condition and plan of care. 

“I uh… I think you should get over here.” 

“Is everything okay?” 

“Yes, surprisingly so,” the doctor said with an incredulous chuckle. “Peter is awake, alert, and talking.” 

“Oh, that’s great,” she said, surprised at his quick recovery. 

“Yes, it is great news. He asked for food and ate it ravenously,” the doctor said and Scully nodded with a smile. He’s also been incredibly insistent that he speak to your partner, Agent Scully.” 

“What?” 

“Yeah, says he really needs to speak to him.” 

Scully’s stomach dropped as she looked over at Ned’s office and watched Mulder smile at Ashley as he nodded. She let out a deep breath and licked her lips. 

“We’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” she said and heard the doctor thank her before saying goodbye and hanging up. 

He was in a coma-like state yesterday. Completely unresponsive, she thought as she put her phone back into her pocket and walked back towards Ned’s office. How in the hell did he know to ask for Mulder? 

Chapter Text

Mulder could practically feel Scully worrying as they walked into the hospital. 

During the walk to the car and the fifteen minute drive to the hospital, she had asked at least five times how Peter had known to ask for him by name.                                                         

“I don’t know, Scully,” he had said, shaking his head. “We’ll see what he has to say when we get there.” 

She had sighed, clasping and unclasping her hands as she had stared out the window. 

“Something feels off about it,” she had said. “About all of it. It’s weird.” 

“Weird? Not spooky?” he had teased and she had turned her head to stare at him. 

“Three men are still missing, Mulder. Peter was returned, or found his way back, injured and in a near coma-like state. Forgive me if I don’t see the humor in that.” 

“Scully,” he had started to say and she had cut him off. 

“And how would he know your name? How would he know to ask for you?” 

“Most likely he heard a doctor discussing our visit.” 

“He was heavily sedated, Mulder.” 

“I meant after he was lucid. He probably heard it today.” 

“I don’t know,” she had said, looking out the window again. “Why not ask for both of us? Why only you?” 

“Aww, feeling left out?” he had teased, trying to lighten the mood and she had shaken her head. 

“No. That’s not it.”

“Well,” he had said as the hospital came into view. “We’ll see soon enough.” 

He glanced over at her now and noted the way she held herself rigid, a coil ready to spring. 

“Agents,” a voice said and they turned to see Doctor Huron coming towards them. “Thank you for getting here so quickly.” 

“Doctor Huron,” Scully said, putting her hand out to shake his as he smiled. “Thank you for calling.” 

“Of course,” he said, shaking Mulder’s hand as well. 

“Could you give us more information about Peter?” Scully asked and Mulder saw her relax somewhat, now in her element. “He just woke up and started speaking?” 

“Not exactly,” the doctor laughed. “He was quite sedated last night, his blood pressure continuing to fluctuate, rising and falling in a way we could not understand. He was checked on during rounds and about an hour ago, he buzzed the nurse’s station asking for some help.” 

Scully looked at the doctor and then Mulder, her arms crossed, before turning her attention back to the doctor. 

“He doesn’t remember what happened to him. Or that he’s been missing for a month. He had no idea where he was or how he got her. Starving as I told you, eating two meals and asking for more.” 

“And he asked for Agent Mulder? By name?” 

“He did,” Doctor Huron said, smiling at Mulder. 

“But how would he have known to do so? Did someone tell him about us coming to see him yesterday, telling him our names?” 

“Can we speak to him?” Mulder asked, and Scully turned toward him quickly, her eyes boring into his. 

“Yes. You can,” the doctor said, smiling as he nodded. “He’s still in the same room. I can show you-”

“No, that’s okay,” Mulder said with a smile. “We remember how to get there. Agent Scully?” He gestured for her to walk ahead of him and she sighed as she thanked the doctor and started down the hallway. 

“Mulder, why-”

“Rather speak to Peter on his own. Hear his version of what he experienced when he woke up.” 

“Okay,” she said, nodding in agreement and then shaking her head. 

“Down this way,” he said, placing his hand on her lower back and turning to the right. 

The door to Peter’s room was closed, but when they opened it, they found he was awake and eating a plate full of food. 

“Hello,” he said, swallowing a large bite. “You’re not doctors. Unless you’re the ones the other doctors call.” He grinned at them and set his fork down, wiping his hand on a napkin. 

He was looking rather well for a person who had been missing for a month. There was color in his cheeks and aside from the slight bruising on his pale skin, he seemed in perfect health. 

“No. We’re FBI agents. This is Agent Scully and I’m Agent-”

“Mulder,” Peter finished, staring hard at Mulder, his grin disappearing. “Hello.” 

“Hello,” Mulder said, reaching for one of the two chairs in the room. “Do you mind if we sit?” 

“No,” Peter said, still staring at him. 

“Mister Blake,” Scully began, but he waved her off. 

“Peter. Mister Blake is… just Peter, please.” 

“Peter, I am an agent but I am also a medical doctor. Would you mind if I examined you?” 

“No. That’s fine,” he said, his eyes still on Mulder. 

“Could you please look at me?” she said and he turned his head to oblige her. 

She moved the tray in front of him and performed an exam, looking into his eyes, ears, mouth, feeling his head, arms, and chest. She asked him to stand, her brow furrowing as she worked through the examination. She paused at the cuts on his back, tracing a gloved finger over the placement of them, glancing at Mulder with raised eyebrows. 

“You can sit now, Mister… sorry. Peter. You can sit now. Thank you.” 

“Not a problem,” he said jovially and she stood beside the bed as he got back in it, covering him and replacing his tray, before throwing out her gloves and sitting down in the other chair. 

“Peter, what can you tell us about what happened to you?” Mulder asked as he watched Scully watching Peter with a stony expression. 

“Man… I…” Peter said, forking a potato and putting it into his mouth. “I can tell you what I know, but I don’t think it will be what you want to hear.” 

“Try me.” 

Peter grinned and chewed his potato. Mulder saw Scully sigh heavily and cross her arms, before turning his full attention to Peter. 

“The last thing I remember was a party in a cemetery.” 

“Four Pines Cemetery?” 

“I don’t know the name of it.” He scooped up a large bite of eggs and Mulder heard Scully sigh again. “Sorry for eating as we do this, but I’m starving. Have been since I woke up here, wherever this is.” 

“This is Pines Hospital,” Scully said coolly. “Surely Doctor Huron told you that.” 

“Yes,” Peter laughed, chewing and swallowing, and then taking a drink of orange juice. “I know where I am physically, but not… spiritually, if you get what I mean.” 

“I don’t. Please elaborate,” Scully said and he glanced at her, holding her gaze. 

“You don’t believe me.” 

“You’ll have to forgive me, Peter, but you’ve given me no information to believe,” Scully said and Mulder felt the anger and tension in her voice. 

“Why don’t you start with what you remember from the day you disappeared?” Mulder asked, getting Peter’s attention off of Scully. 

“Right,” Peter said, taking one last bite and draining his orange juice. “I was at a party like I said. Some cemetery which was… I don’t normally do things like that. I’m not in my twenties anymore and I…” He wiped his mouth and sighed. “There was only a handful of people there, though I knew no one.” 

“No one?” Mulder asked and he shook his head. 

“I had just arrived in town and was at a gas station. Heard this guy talking about a party in a cemetery later and it piqued my interest.” 

“You went to a party full of strangers you met at a gas station?” Scully asked incredulously. “In a town you’ve never been? Do you realize how dangerous that is?” 

He laughed as he gestured around him and Scully exhaled through her nose, crossing her arms even tighter. 

“Yeah, I have an idea,” he said with a chuckle. “Thing is, everyone at the party was decent. They just were there to party and hang out. Well, a couple of them were partying in a different manner, but that’s their business, not mine.” He grinned and Mulder nodded. 

“Did you take any drugs?” Scully asked and Peter stared at her. 

“I did. Just to try them. I’d never done anything like it before and I…” 

“Did they not agree with you?” 

“No, they definitely did,” he said with a smile. “I felt better than I had in a long time. A really long time.” He sighed and put his napkin on his plate. “I don’t know what happened after that. I was feeling good, happy even, and then… I woke up here.” 

“You don’t remember anything? Not temperature? A smell? Perhaps a person speaking to you?” Mulder asked. 

Peter stared at his hands and shook his head slowly. 

“It’s… dark, what I can remember anyway. Like… no… wait… there is something.” He looked up, but his focus was not on them. “It’s thick. The air was thick. Like…” 

He made movements with his fingers, similar to the ones Mulder had done earlier at the forest’s edge. Looking down, he realized that he was mimicking Peter’s movements and he quickly stopped, balling his hands into fists. 

“Thick where you disappeared to? Or in the cemetery at the party?” Scully asked and Mulder heard the disbelief in her voice. 

“Both,” Peter said, still looking beyond them. “It was like… a dream. Like a slow motion dream. The ones when you can’t run? Or… remember words of things? Like that. Slow and thick.” He continued moving his fingers and Scully looked over at Mulder, but his attention was on Peter’s hand. 

“I… can hear…” He closed his eyes and his fingers increased in speed. “I hear people. Other men, I think. They’re… I don’t know… they’re quiet, but loud. It’s…” He frowned and twitched his head, moaning softly as his fingers continued moving, even faster now. 

“Do they need help? Are they hurt?” Scully asked, taking her notepad and pen from her coat pocket and beginning to write. 

“I… don’t know. It’s… thick. It’s…” His fingers moved faster and Mulder clenched his fist tighter, his hand aching. 

Suddenly Peter stopped, his hand dropping into his lap. He opened his eyes, blinking a few times as he drew in deep breaths. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s close, but not like it was.” 

“The people?” Scully asked, writing again in her notepad. 

“The feeling,” Peter said softly. “The thick pressure of whatever it was. I remember that now. The silence that pressed in and consumed me. But, it didn’t feel bad, just…” 

“Thick,” Mulder supplied. “And heavy.” 

“Yes,” Peter said, looking at him. “That’s why I asked to speak to you. Why I needed it to be you.” 

“Why?” Mulder asked, seeing Scully’s pen pause in her writing to stare at Peter. 

“Because you know,” Peter said with a nod, his gaze dropping to Mulder’s hands still clenched in fists. “You’ve felt it, Agent Mulder. You know. I don’t think anyone could understand the way you would.” 

He stared at him as he heard Scully release a harsh breath and then the room fell silent. 

Chapter Text

Scully was staring at Mulder who was in turn staring at Peter. Her blood pounded loudly in her ears and she swallowed, her throat very dry. 

“What is he talking about?” she said. “Mulder, what-” 

Loud muffled shouts from the hallway interrupted their conversation and had everyone looking toward the door. 

“I will not calm down!” A woman was yelling. “I will not listen to what you’re saying right now! I have to see him! Let go of me!” 

The door burst open and Mulder and Scully jumped up, hands on their weapons. A woman stood in the doorway, Doctor Huron behind her. 

“Oh my God! It is you. Oh, Peter!” She ran into the room, stopping at his side and staring at him. 

“Gina? What are you doing here?” he asked as he sat up straighter in bed. 

“What… what am I doing here?!” she shouted. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” 

“Ma’am, this is a hospital. You need to lower your voice,” Doctor Huron said sternly and Scully looked at Mulder, her hand moving from her gun. 

“Peter… I can’t believe it’s you. I’ve been praying…” She gave a strangled sob and shook her head. “Say something.”  

“Hello?” he said with a smile and a small shrug and Gina nearly collapsed, her knees buckling beneath her. 

Mulder quickly caught her, giving her his chair. She laid her head on Peter’s chest and cried as he closed his eyes and ran his hand in her hair. 

The other three in the room looked at one another awkwardly, not speaking as their attention returned to Peter and Gina. 

“I thought… God, I thought I would never see you again,” she cried and Peter sighed, kissing the top of her head. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I never meant for you to worry.” 

“Jesus, Peter,” she half sobbed as she raised her head and wiped her eyes. “Where have you been? What happened to you?” She touched his face and he leaned into her touch. 

“I don’t know, G. I really don’t know.” 

“Oh, Peter! Your treatments!” 

“Gina,” he said, his face falling as he shook his head. 

“Are…” She turned her head, her eyes wide as she looked from Mulder to Scully seeming to just realize they were there. Her gaze swung to Doctor Huron and she furrowed her brow. “Is he receiving his treatments?” 

“Treatments?” 

“Yes, his treatments.” 

“Ma’am,” the doctor said, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“You don’t… don’t know what I mean?” Gina asked, standing to her feet.

“Gina,” Peter said, but she ignored him. 

“He’s been missing for a month… he’s missed so much time.” She turned back to look at him with fresh tears on her face. “Peter…”

“Gina… please sit down,” Peter said and she did, sinking into the chair. “I have something I need to say and it’s going to hurt you. If I could avoid it, forever, I would. But you deserve the truth, no matter how much you may hate me after I say it.” 

“I would never-” she started to say, but he put a hand up, stopping her from speaking. 

“You might, because I hate myself.” He dropped his head and let out a deep sigh. “The center turned me away when I got here. Told me that the cancer was too aggressive and to get my affairs in order instead.” 

“What?” Gina said, a hand going to her mouth. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I couldn’t.” 

“Cancer?” Doctor Huron asked and Scully looked at him, watching him frown. 

“Yes,” Peter said, nodding as he looked at Gina. “Stage four lung cancer. Quite a shock as I never smoked and have always been fairly healthy.” 

“Peter,” she whispered, taking his hand and holding it to her face. 

“You…” Doctor Huron turned and walked from the room, hurrying down the hall. Mulder looked at Scully, raising his eyebrows as she shook her head. 

“They said… there was nothing they could do. That the treatments would kill me faster than the disease. That I should plan my goodbyes and make sure things were in order for those I was leaving behind.” 

Scully’s stomach dropped as she felt Mulder’s eyes on her, her hand going to her neck almost of its own volition. 

Two years she had been clear, the chip beneath her skin doing its job, but it felt like yesterday when she had nearly died. She swallowed and dropped her hand down, meeting Mulder’s eyes briefly before looking back at Peter and Gina. 

“You didn’t tell me,” Gina sobbed and Peter shook his head. 

“I couldn’t. I knew you’d fly up here and want to be with me.” 

“Of course I would, you idiot,” she said and he laughed softly, stroking her face. 

“I couldn’t do that to you. To have you watch me die. To see the hope in your eyes diminish. You would have fought to the very end, demanding the doctors do more and fix things.” 

“Of course I would, you idiot,” she said again, whispering this time as she started crying softly. 

“They said six weeks. I… I couldn’t wrap my head around that and I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I wanted you there, but I didn’t want you to watch me die.” 

Scully looked at Mulder, her heart aching. 

She had felt the exact same way. Wanting only him to be with her, but also wanting him as far away as possible. Seeing him watching her get weaker and weaker would have broken her heart, forget the cancer killing her. Knowing how her death would affect him, that would have been her downfall. 

Mulder stared at her and she tried to smile, but knew it came out wobbly. She shrugged slightly, attempting to smile again even as she felt tears stinging her eyes. He nodded and sighed, looking down at the floor before shaking his head. 

“I was driving, no destination in mind, when I stopped for gas and met Brent. He told me there was a party in a cemetery in town and it felt sadly poetic and I decided to go. I was going to take the night being reckless and stupid and then… call you and tell you everything was fine and they seemed hopeful.” Peter sighed and looked at Gina with tears shining in his eyes. “I couldn’t take that from you, that hope. I… I thought as long as you had it, maybe I would be okay.” 

“Peter,” Gina cried, dropping her head to his chest again and sobbing. 

He murmured to her and Scully quickly looked down and wiped away the tears on her cheeks. She saw the tips of Mulder’s shoes as he came to stand beside her. Raising her head, she met his eyes and he sighed as his arm gently brushed against hers. 

“Six weeks,” Gina cried and Peter hummed. “That gives us only two weeks. Oh, Peter.” She cried harder and Scully drew in a steadying breath. 

“I know. I’m so sorry. I should’ve called. Should’ve done so many things differently.” 

Scully reached out and found Mulder’s hand, which had already been reaching for hers. She gripped his fingers tightly, her breathing shaky as she closed her eyes. He squeezed back and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. 

“Umm…” She heard and opened her eyes as she raised her head. Letting go of Mulder’s hand quickly, she took a step away from him as Doctor Huron stood before them, a file in his hands. “Mister Blake…” 

“Please, just Peter,” Peter said. “I’ve heard enough Mister Blake said in a concerned and polite tone, to then hear the worst news imaginable.” He shook his head and then pressed his lips to Gina’s hair. “Whatever you have to tell me, Doc, I already know.” 

“I don’t think so,” Doctor Huron said with a smile as he stepped closer to Peter. 

“What do you mean?” 

“We ran tests when you came in unconsciously and unresponsive. Scans, x-rays, blood work. Not in any of the tests did we find the presence of cancer.” 

“What?” Peter, Scully, and Mulder said together. 

“It’s the truth. If we had seen it, or known about your history, it would have been one of our top concerns. Especially stage four.” 

“What?” Peter said again and now Gina had quieted her tears and raised her head so she could listen. 

“Could I see his chart?” Scully asked and Doctor Huron gave it to her as he continued to talk to Peter. 

She looked through it and raised her eyebrows as Mulder read over her shoulder. 

“Is it true?” he asked softly and she nodded in disbelief. She looked at him, her eyes wide. 

“The probability of him having no signs of an aggressive form of cancer…” She shook her head and looked back at Peter.  “I… I don’t know what to say,” he said. “I want to be completely sure. Can… can we run more tests? Oh my God… Gina…” He pulled her to him and they both cried as they hugged and laughed.

Doctor Huron smiled as he watched them and then turned to Mulder and Scully, a perplexed and concerned look on his face. 

Glancing down at Peter’s chart once more, she felt a knot beginning to form in her stomach. 

How was it possible? 

Chapter Text

Mulder poured two coffees, adding cream and one packet of sugar to Scully’s. Checking the prepackaged food, he shook his head and decided on just the coffees. Paying for them, he left the hospital cafeteria and went to the elevator to go upstairs and rejoin Scully. 

Tests had been run on Peter, multiple ones, and now they were awaiting the results. 

Stepping off the elevator, he saw her standing at the nurses station, a chart held in her hands. He watched her sigh and roll her neck, a sure sign that she was tired. 

Setting the chart down, she glanced to her right and smiled gently at the sight of him walking towards her with the coffees. 

“Thank you,” she said, taking the one he offered her. 

“Any news?” 

She shook her head and started walking away from the nurses station.

“Yes and I don’t understand it.” 

“What?” 

Opening the door to an empty waiting area, she sat at a small round table, setting her coffee down. Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, she shook her head again as he sat across from her. 

“Peter was dying, Mulder,” she said quietly. “There is no other way to put it. His previous charts show that. The center he was trying to get into… I question why they would have accepted him as a candidate.” 

“Why?” 

“He had a zero chance of survival. With or without treatment. I can honestly say that he would not have survived.” She looked at him with sad eyes and sighed deeply. “His doctors… I don’t know why they wouldn’t tell him. Why would they give him that hope?” She shook her head and picked up her coffee. Taking a small sip, she stared out the window with a sigh, the late afternoon sun burning brightly. 

He watched her, thinking about when she had told him about her tumor. Her own acceptance and bluntness in her words had stopped him in his tracks. Yes, she’d had time to absorb and adjust to the news before sharing it with him, but she had faced the truth of it far quicker than he had. 

“Maybe his doctors weren’t as optimistic. Maybe that’s why he sought a second opinion from a cancer center so far from home,” he said, watching her swallow another sip of coffee. 

“Maybe,” she whispered, setting her cup down. 

“But you said there was news?” 

“He had a zero percent chance of survival, Mulder,” she said again and he nodded as she looked at him. “His previous scans show his lungs were full of cancer. And now, it’s gone. Completely gone.” 

“There’s not a chance of a mix up with the old files?” he asked, even as he felt a thrill of excitement and intrigue as to why and how that could happen. “Perhaps they sent the wrong ones?” 

“No. There wasn’t a mix up.” 

“Did you check his neck for a possible chip implant?” he teased and she shook her head. 

“It’s not funny, Mulder,” she said quietly. 

“I wasn’t-”

“Six weeks he was given. Then he was gone for a month, only to return clear of the disease that was killing him. He has extremely minor injuries. He’s not emaciated, despite obviously not eating much during his disappearance. He’s healthy and whole. How?” 

“What are you thinking?” 

“Nothing good,” she said, sighing before picking up her cup and taking another drink. 

“Elaborate, please,” he said, taking a drink of his own coffee. 

“It had to be someone with medical knowledge who held him against his will and… experimented on him. It could have killed him. He could have died alone and suffering at the hands of someone sworn to protect and do no harm.” 

“You think it was a doctor?” 

“Yes. It would have to be.” 

“Or it could have been something else.” 

She drew in a breath through her nose and let it out slowly. 

“What are you thinking?” 

“Just working on a theory.” 

“Which includes how Peter knew to ask for you?” she asked, her eyes holding his. “Him implying that you felt something?” 

“Scully-”

“Mulder,” she interrupted, licking her lips and setting her cup down. “You were spooked out in that cemetery today. We both know that.” 

“I-”

“Did something happen? Something more than a belief in a mythical creature giving you a bad feeling?” 

“How do you mean?” 

“Did you hurt yourself? When you slipped?” She looked down at his hand lying on the table and he dropped his gaze as well, frowning when he saw that he was clenching and unclenching his fist. 

“I didn’t know I was doing that,” he said softly, shaking his hand and attempting a smile. 

“Let me see,” she said, holding her hand out. 

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” 

“Mulder,” she whispered, looking up at him and sighing. “Let me see.” 

He exhaled as he stretched his hand toward her and she took it into both of her own. 

She ran her fingers gently over his palm and he swallowed as he both watched and felt her doing it. It was an odd sensation, clinical and yet almost slightly erotic. 

Her focus was completely on his hand and his focus was on her fingers. She traced them over his palm, the fronts and backs of each finger, over the top, and then down to his wrist. He marveled, as he always did, at the sureness and steadiness in her touch. 

“I don’t see anything that could be construed as an injury,” she said, rubbing his palm with her thumb as she moved down to his middle finger and closed his hand, gently squeezing before letting go. “A little bit red, but that could be from the weather or the warm cup of coffee.” 

Giving him a smile that did not reach her eyes, she sat back and stared at him. 

“You could get it looked at, as we are currently in a hospital. Just to be sure.” 

He smiled and shook his head. 

“With regret, I must decline that request,” he said and she laughed softly as she shook her head. 

“Sounds about right.” 

“Hmm,” he hummed as she looked out the window again. “Are you hungry?” 

Turning back to him, she nodded slowly. 

“Me too and let me tell you, the cafeteria downstairs isn’t exactly appealing,” he said, making a face. She gave him a small smile and he smiled back. “Do we need to stay for more test results?” 

“Honestly?” She shook her head and sighed. “I don’t think it will show anything different. His cancer is gone. I can’t explain how, but I don’t think any further tests will explain that aspect of it.” 

“How about I buy you dinner and I tell you what I’m thinking?”

She tapped her fingers on the table and stared at him before nodding and letting out a sigh. 

“A cafe or diner,” she said. “Some place where I can get a piece of pie because I have a feeling your theory is going to be a bit hard to swallow and sugar always helps in situations like that.” 

He laughed with a nod, picking up his coffee cup and standing to his feet. She smirked at him as she stood and picked up her own coffee, pushing the chair in and raising her eyebrows. 

He began to hum A Spoonful of Sugar as they walked toward the door. She laughed softly and bumped him with her shoulder. He grinned, tossed his coffee in the trash and opened the door, the quiet of the room left behind. 

Chapter Text

The Widow’s Diner 

“Welcome in folks,” the waitress said with a smile as they sat down and she approached their table. “How are you on this fine fall day?” 

“Just fine,” Mulder said, grinning back at her and Scully knew they had made an instant connection. 

For all his idiosyncrasies, Mulder had a magnetism that tended to draw people to him. Usually, it was the ones who felt the same disconnect from society as he did. 

But more often than not, she thought as she looked at the buxom, middle aged waitress whose name tag read Flora. It’s women like this who must have a kind of sixth sense about him and feel that undercurrent pull to mother him. Biting back a smirk, Scully studied the menu she was given. 

“I’ll give you a few minutes and I’ll be back,” Flora said and walked away, winking at Mulder. 

“She seems nice,” he said and Scully snorted behind her menu. “What was that for?” 

She looked up at him and laughed at the surprised expression on his face. 

“Mulder,” she said, still laughing as she shook her head. 

“What? You don’t think she’s nice?” 

“Oh, I have no doubt that she is,” she said, moving her silverware to the inside of the table. 

“But…” 

“It’s just…” she said, looking at him and smiling. “You know how only dogs can hear dog whistles because of the frequency?” 

“Yeah?” he said, frowning slightly. 

“Well, I think you carry a frequency with you,” she said, waving her hand to indicate his general being. “One that mothering type women can’t help but be drawn to, like a moth to a flame.” She smiled and he stared at her unblinkingly. 

“You base all of that off of her bringing our menus over and saying hello?” 

“No,” Scully said, laughing as she shook her head. “That’s based on years of observations while eating in diners just like this one, all across this country. Years, Mulder.” She smiled and he let out a slow breath. 

“Well,” he said with a nod, a smile pulling at his lips. “You’re nothing if not thorough. The consummate scientist.” He tilted his head and she shrugged as she raised her eyebrows.

“I have been trained to observe and make hypotheses,” she stated and he laughed as he turned his attention to his menu. She smiled as she watched him. “You watch, she’ll offer you a piece of pie when we’re done with our meal. On the house.” 

“Holy shit,” he said, looking back up at her, his eyes wide. “I’ve been offered free pieces of pie, or something similar, a lot. Are you saying that’s why? Because of my animal magnetism?” 

“I wouldn’t call it that,” she said with a laugh. “But…” She shrugged again and he pursed his lips together. 

“Hmm… I see how your scientific research has been conducted. Free pie versus no pie. I’ll be on the alert now.” 

“You won’t,” she snorted, shaking her head vehemently. “You’ll get wrapped up in whatever the two of you are discussing and joking about and suddenly you’ll wind up with a dessert in front of you, fork in hand.” 

“Or two, as I do always share,” he said, winking at her. “Or at least I offer.” 

“Yeah,” she said with a small smile. “You do.”

They stared at one another, the bustle of the diner going on around them, until a plate fell and their fellow patrons gasped. Turning to look at the sound, the moment was broken and their attention instead fell to their menus. 

“Have you decided?” Flora asked, coming back to their table, her notepad in hand. Mulder caught Scully’s eye and he grinned. 

“I have. Well, we have, right?” he asked and Scully nodded. “You go first.” 

“What can I getcha, hon?” Flora asked, smiling at Mulder before looking at Scully. 

Oh yeah. That pie is already waiting on a plate for him, she thought, shaking her head. 

“I’ll have a cup of the creamy chicken soup and a ham and cheese sandwich.” 

“Oh, that’s a good choice,” Flora said. “That soup is my personal favorite. Perfect for when the temperature starts to drop. And for you, hon?” 

“Well, after an endorsement like that, I’ll have to have a cup of the soup too. It sounds good. And a bacon cheeseburger, extra pickles on the side, please.” 

“You got it, hon,” she said, winking at him and writing his order down. “Anything to drink, or you good with water?” 

“Water is fine for me,” Scully said and Mulder ordered an iced tea. 

“Got it,” Flora said, taking their menus. “Soup and drinks will be out soon.” She touched Mulder’s shoulder and Scully gave him a knowing look as she walked away. 

“Plated and waiting for a scoop of ice cream,” she said and he guffawed, slapping the table as she smiled. 

He continued chuckling as he looked around the diner and then pointed behind her. She turned and looked, finding photos of cemeteries decorating the walls. 

“Interesting choice of decor,” he said and as she too looked around, she saw that the majority of the pictures were of cemeteries, an old covered bridge taken in different seasons, and many different people standing or sitting on a large rock jutting out over a valley, smiling and flashing the peace sign. 

“Perhaps the story behind the name of the diner. Maybe the owner is a widow and they have a leaning towards the macabre.” 

“Oh, that’s such a good word,” he said, looking at her and pumping his eyebrows. “Macabre.” 

She rolled her eyes with a smile and looked around again, finding that the pictures did not exactly carry a creepy feeling, but rather felt celebratory, in an odd way. 

“The rock… I wonder what that has to do with others. The bridge looks very old, and the cemeteries are rather self explanatory, especially given the name of the place, but the rock…” She shrugged and Mulder hummed as he nodded. 

“Maybe Flora can answer that question,” he said. “I’ll ask her when she comes back with our food.” He flashed her a smile and her stomach fluttered. 

Damn you, she thought. How do you do that to me? 

“I’m sure she’ll tell you everything you need to know if you ask nicely,” she said snidely, rolling her eyes. 

“We’re conducting an experiment tonight, Scully,” he said, glancing to his left with another big smile and she saw that Flora was making her way over to them with a tray of food. “I’m gonna test different theories here. First experiment, gain knowledge of the immediate surroundings.” 

She laughed and he winked quickly as Flora set the tray down and handed out their food. 

“Here you go. Soup for each of you. Water for you and your iced tea, hon.” 

As she took two straws from her apron pocket, Mulder caught Scully’s eye and mouthed the word hon. She gave him a pointed look, implying that yes, she had noticed the use of the word as it was directed at him alone. 

Told you, she mouthed back and he laughed silently. 

“Thanks, Flora,” he said, taking the straw and smiling at her. “The soup smells delicious.” 

“Tastes even better,” she replied. “But it’s a bit hot, so take your time. Your other food should be out soon.” She smiled at them and took a step back, but he stopped her. “Yeah, hon?” 

“Just had a question about the photos on the wall,” he said as Scully unwrapped her straw and stuck it into her water, taking a drink. 

“Oh,” Flora said as she looked around and then back at them. “You’re obviously not from around here.” 

“No,” he said, taking out his badge and showing it to her. “We’re with the FBI.” 

“Oh,” she said, this time in surprise, glancing at Scully with a smile. “Good for you. More women should be in places of authority like that.” 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Scully said with a smile, feeling oddly flattered. 

“So you’re here investigating the missing men,” Flora stated and Scully nodded. “It’s a shame what happened to them, but I can’t say I’m surprised.” 

“Why’s that?” Mulder asked and Flora sighed as she looked at the pictures of the people on the rock. 

“Has no one told you about the Widow at the Edge of the Rock?” 

Chapter Text

“A widow on a rock?” Mulder asked, leaning forward, immediately intrigued. 

“The widow,” Flora corrected him, smiling at a group of people who had just entered. “Welcome. Sit wherever you like. Oh, hey Danielle. Be right there.” She looked at Mulder and smiled. “Hang on, I’ll be right back.” 

She patted his arm and walked away, saying hello to the group again. Mulder looked at Scully and she stared back with a sigh. 

“A widow, Scully,” he said, grinning as he picked up his spoon. “You know this is gonna be a good story.” 

“Just because it’s a widow, it doesn’t guarantee something odd is in the works. My mother is a widow. Does that mean she possesses some mystical abilities or has a backstory worthy of a diner being named after her marital status?” She raised her eyebrows and filled her spoon with soup. 

“Well,” he said, tapping his spoon against the cup before sticking it into his soup. “If she walked the streets calling for your father, in her nightgown, or if she turned to a life of potion making after he died, then yes.” 

“That’s quite a leap from widow to witch,” she said with a short laugh. 

“Well, in a lot of folklore a witch is a widow, or a spinster.”

“Or a woman who was simply smarter than a man and their fragile egos couldn’t handle it.” 

“Also true,” he said, taking a bite and humming at the delicious flavor. “You know, you’d probably-”

“Think hard before you finish that sentence,” she said, narrowing her eyes as she took another bite. 

“I’d petition on your behalf,” he said, grinning with a wink. “Insisting that you were actually quite learned in many areas and should be heard.” 

“And then we’d both be burned at the stake.” 

“Where one goes…” he said and she smiled as she shook her head, opening the packet of crackers that came with her soup, and dipping a piece in. 

“Not sure that would solve the problem,” she said, eating her cracker. 

“But then we’d be free to haunt those who had wronged us. Sneaking up and giving them a fright. Wailing in misery, but secretly laughing about it later.” 

”Seriously?” she asked. 

“Of course,” he said, taking a bite and swallowing it quickly. “I like to think we’d still check in at the end of the day, despite being corporeal beings. See how the other fared with their ghostly activities and what needs to be accomplished the next day. Together or separate.” 

“You really think you’d do that? Give up a peaceful afterlife to haunt people?” she asked with a half smile. 

“If it meant righting a wrong, getting vengeance against those who treated you badly, without hesitation,” he said, taking a drink of tea and nodding. “Because fuck those people.” 

She laughed heartily and shook her head, dipping another cracker into her soup and chewing it 

“I could understand if you would have some misgivings, what with the prospect of heaven and all. Pearly gates, streets of gold…” He made a weighing motion with his hands and she laughed again.

“If it meant even one condescending man was roused from his sleep or tormented throughout the day, I could see the appeal.” She smiled and he smiled back as he nodded, taking another bite of his soup. 

“Sorry,” Flora said, walking up to the table, holding what looked like a pamphlet in her hand. “I thought we had some by the register, but it was empty. Had to go to the back to get this for you.” 

She set it down in front of him and it was indeed a pamphlet with a picture of the rock they had discussed. There was also a faint drawing of a woman wearing a long dark dress, her golden hair loose and nearly to her waist. The words The Widow of Edge Rock were written in a gothic font. His eyes lit up as he quickly wiped his hands on a napkin and picked it up. 

“This is something I made up. Oh, not made up as in not true, but created to tell others about the widow, especially as it pertains to the diner’s name. It has all the basics of what you need to know,” Flora said, pointing at the pamphlet. “It’s starting to get busy here, everyone looking for a bite, but if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask.” She smiled at them and nodded as she walked away. 

“Here we go,” Scully said, rolling her eyes and sighing with a small smile. He grinned as he opened the pamphlet and began to read it aloud. 

“In 1796, Sarah Merchant, the only daughter of the town’s doctor, married Obadiah Blackwell, the oldest son of the town’s general store owner. Though the marriage was prearranged and the two shared a substantial age gap, his thirty eight to her twenty one, they cared for one another very much. Sarah was grounded in her beliefs and Obadiah was a bit of a dreamer. Together, they found balance and highlighted the best qualities of one another. ” 

“That’s nice,” Scully said and he looked up at her. “Knowing that their pre-arranged marriage was not looked upon as bad. Some people never find that feeling.” 

“True,” he said, with a nod as he continued reading. “In 1800, four years after they were married, Obadiah became very ill. Sarah’s father was called upon, medicines given, but nothing was helping. Obadiah began to slip away from this world. When all hope felt lost, Sarah remembered a medical book of her fathers she had read when she was younger. Finding it again, she asked her father to consider the treatment plan mentioned. He did not agree, insisting she had no idea what she was talking about, and that Obadiah would not live much longer.” 

“Jesus,” Scully said, pushing her now empty cup of soup aside. 

“Yeah,” Mulder breathed and kept reading. “Receiving no assistance from her father, Sarah attempted to treat Obadiah on her own, creating tonics and elixirs. When her father found out, he forbade her from seeing Obadiah, believing she was poisoning him. When Obadiah died, Sarah was not by his side, though people who had been there said he asked for her until his very last breath.” He looked up at Scully and she stared at him as she shook her head. 

“How incredibly sad,” she whispered and he nodded. 

“After the passing of Obadiah, Sarah began to withdraw from society. She no longer spoke to her family and mostly stayed at the little house on the edge of town where she and Obadiah had lived. People saw her walking in her black dresses, near the town bridge staring down at the water, or standing on the edge of what would later become known as Widow’s Rock.” 

“Why would she have chosen that location?” Scully asked and Mulder looked at her, blinking in surprise to find that they were still in the diner, his mind at the rock and the bridge, believing he could see Sarah there, her expression mournful. 

“Uh…” He turned the pamphlet over and nodded as he continued. “People had been known to picnic on that rock, spending the day in the surrounding hills, but after seeing Sarah there so often, it was avoided. At the bridge, and eventually at people's homes, packages began to appear. Jars of elixirs, powders wrapped in brown paper, poultices in small containers. While it could never be confirmed for sure that it was Sarah, the townspeople had their suspicions. They believed that… oh, Scully. This… this is…” His eyes bulged and he pointed to the pamphlet. “They believed that Sarah was leaving medicines she had created for those she somehow knew were sick or suffering. She left them on routes she knew would be travelled on or where people lived, possibly to make up for the fact that she could not do anything to help Obadiah when he had needed her most.” 

He looked at Scully and held her gaze. 

“She was trying to help people, Scully. To cure them.” 

“Mulder…” she began, shaking her head and closing her eyes, but he cut her off. 

“What if… what if it’s not a malicious spirit, entity, feeling, whatever you want to call it, but a healing one? Something strong and powerful and it feels bad because we don’t know what else to call it?” 

“Mulder,” she said, opening her eyes and sighing heavily. “You are making wild assumptions based on a story you didn’t even know about two minutes ago.” 

“Peter was dying and now he’s not,” he said matter-of-factly. “You said yourself that you didn’t know why that would be.” She put a hand up as she stared at him with a hard expression. 

“I can’t explain it, no. But I also will not state that it happened because of the spirit of a woman who has been dead for over two hundred years. Mulder…” She scoffed and he opened his mouth to respond when Flora arrived with their food, halting their conversation. 

“Here we are,” she said, setting down their plates, napkins, and extra silverware. “I’ll take those other plates from you and come back to refill your drinks. Will you be needing anything else at the moment?” She smiled at them and Mulder nodded, holding up the pamphlet. 

“Yeah. I need to know much more than this pamphlet has to tell about Sarah Blackwell.” 

Flora nodded with a huge grin as Scully shook her head and reached for a napkin. Placing it into her lap, she stared at Mulder and sighed. 

Chapter Text

“So you make a right out of here,” Flora said, drawing a detailed map on a piece of notebook paper after they had finished their meal. “Three miles down you make a left. Then it’s past this big tree after the second stop sign.” She smiled at Mulder as she recapped her pen. “She usually closes at seven, but this time of year, people come to visit for all that fall has to offer and so she stays open later. I’ll call her though and let her know you’re coming.” 

“Thanks, Flora. We really appreciate it,” Mulder said with a grin, taking the map and looking at it with a nod. “I’m sure it will be exactly what we’re looking for.” 

Scully cleared her throat and he glanced at her as he folded the paper. She stared at him and he smiled again, his attention back to Flora. 

“I’ll get your check and be right back.” 

“Thanks.” 

Flora took their plates and walked back to the kitchen. Scully continued looking at Mulder, his excitement practically bouncing off of him, if his fingers tapping the table were any indication. 

“Mulder,” she said quietly as she let out a breath. “You can’t-”

“Fauna’s Folklore, Scully,” he said with a grin. “ Flora and Fauna . Come on. How are we supposed to not at least go check out the shop when they have been named so aptly?” 

“Mulder, their names don’t tie to this case in any way.” 

“Gotta keep an open mind, Scully. See the forest for the trees.” 

“Speaking of forests,” she said warningly. “We’re not going into any tonight. Or cemeteries, or out to that rock either. We can go tomorrow when it is light out and we can see where we are stepping. Let’s try to keep injuries to a minimum on this trip, yeah?” 

He laughed and nodded, rapping his knuckles gently on the table. 

“Good,” she said, picking up a napkin and wiping up a drop of leftover soup. 

“So I know I said I would only be getting your bill,” Flora said, carrying two plates. “But, this is our pumpkin spice pie, with spiced caramel syrup drizzled on top. Can’t visit Vermont without trying the syrup in some fashion or another.” She set them down before placing the check on the table and grinning. “The pie’s on the house.” Winking, she walked away and Scully looked at the piece of pie in front of her. 

“Well,” Mulder said, and she looked at his piece, noticing that his looked different than her own. “It’s on the house. Two slices. But… you’ve got more whipped cream than I do. What does that do for our research?” 

“Sets it back a little, I suppose,” she said, picking the fork up off the plate and taking a bite of pie and whipped cream, moaning as the sweet spices hit her tongue. “But I’m not complaining.” 

“Didn’t think you would be,” he said with a laugh, taking a bite of his own pie and humming as he nodded. “That’s fantastic.” 

“Even better when you have more whipped cream,” she teased, taking another bite and pulling her plate closer when he tried to steal some of the coveted whipped cream. 

_________

Fauna’s Folklore shop was a combination gift shop and apothecary, offering up homemade soaps, lotions and creams. Everything was bottled in old fashioned containers, the labels printed in a New England font. 

Mulder grinned as he looked around, pausing at the shelves with drawings of Sarah Blackwell near the old bridge, leaving packages near doorsteps, brewing potions, and standing forlornly on the edge of the rock. She was always depicted in a black dress and cloak, her golden hair hanging long and loose. 

“No pointy hat or broomstick,” Scully murmured and he gave her a look, before picking up the drawing of Sarah setting down a package wrapped in paper and tied with twine. 

“Imagine living in a time when there was limited access to medicines and someone created something to help alleviate pain and heal the sick, but it wasn’t used and you were shunned simply for helping.” 

“Being a woman is the more likely story,” she said, staring at the expression on Sarah’s face as she stood on the rock. “While my experience isn’t exactly the same, my own expertise has been met with disdain and questioning at times. If Sarah had been a man, they undoubtedly would have listened to and at least tried what was offered.” 

“Times change, but they also don’t,” he said quietly, putting the drawing back on the shelf. “Not how we want them to anyway.”

“No. They often don’t.” 

He looked at her and she smiled slightly. He nodded and they continued looking around the shop. 

A woman, in a midnight blue dress and long black cloak, who looked incredibly similar to Flora, walked out through a doorway, laughter heard behind her. She smiled at the other customers in the shop, then her eyes landed on Scully and she grinned as she made her way over to them. 

“You must be the FBI agents that Flora called about. I’m Fauna.” 

“We are,” Scully said, raising her eyebrows and reaching for her badge. “I’m Agent Scully.” 

“She mentioned your red hair,” Fauna said, only glancing briefly at the badge, her eyes staying on Scully. “She knows my weakness for redheads.” 

“Oh,” Scully said, her cheeks growing warm. “I see.” 

“She also mentioned you,” she said, turning her attention to Mulder and smiling. “But, you’ll have to excuse the fact that I was more interested in meeting her.” 

“Agent Mulder, and I completely understand,” Mulder said, shaking his head and laughing. “As she is the better half of this duo.” He placed his hand on Scully’s lower back and patted it gently. 

“And I would say, hopefully without causing any offense, the better looking,” Fauna said and Scully’s cheeks burned even more. “But, I digress. You’re not here to hear about my predilection for redheaded women.” She smiled and Scully shook her head, her cheeks still warm, and put her badge away as Mulder’s hand dropped from her back. 

“No,” he said. “We were wondering if you could tell us more about Sarah Blackwell. Flora said that you would be the person to ask.” 

“Considering I devoured any information about her that I could as a child, which then led to this,” she said, waving her hand around. “I’d say she was right.” 

“Indeed,” Mulder laughed. 

“Come on this way. I’ll tell you all I know.” 

They followed her through the doorway she had just come through and found themselves in a low lit, overly warm room. People stood at long tables with black cauldron-like containers hanging over fake fires. Numerous bottles with different colored liquids sat on the tables, along with large ladles, notebooks and pens. 

“It’s this little thing we do here,” Fauna said. “A little craft time for people to make “potions” like Sarah did. It’s mostly colored water, but also a little bit of baking soda and vinegar to make it bubble. People like it a lot, especially the kids.” 

“I’m sure,” Scully said, watching the people in the room as they laughed and enjoyed their experiments. 

“Here’s my office. It’s warm inside and a bit of a tight squeeze, but if we leave the door open, it should be okay.” 

They sat down in the two chairs in front of a desk piled high with papers and books. Bookcases overflowed with items, four different clocks ticked softly on the wall, and a black cat meowed as it stretched from a small bed in a corner. 

“Yes, hello to you too, Inky. You heading out for the night?” The cat blinked its yellow green eyes at her, nudged her with its head, and bounded out of the room. “Guess so.” Fauna laughed and sat down, switching on a small fan. “Christ, this heat is unbearable. But I’ve got someone coming tomorrow to check on it. So, Sarah Blackwell…” 

Scully only half listened to the discussion between Fauna and Mulder as she looked around the room at the items on the shelves and walls. 

There was a double photo of her and Flora, one from childhood and one from a New Year’s party in 1995, judging by the hats they were wearing. 

Many renditions of drawings of Sarah were on the wall, her green eyes clear and bright, then sad and troubled in others. The one Scully liked the most, depicted her as a modern doctor, treating a man holistically, a pestle and mortar held in her hand. 

“Do you think she wanted to follow in her fathers footsteps?” Scully asked, staring at the drawing, thinking of Sarah’s possible private ambitions, not realizing she had interrupted the story Fauna was telling. “Oh, I’m sorry. My mind must have been wandering. Please continue.” 

“Forgiveness granted,” Fauna said, smiling as she looked at her. “And I was actually just coming to that part of the story, so it’s good timing. When Sarah’s fathers health began to fail, he asked for her despite the fact that he had sent her away and kept her from seeing her own dying husband. Just like a man would do.” She rolled her eyes and Scully smiled as she caught Mulder’s expression. 

“I believe it,” Scully said, smiling when he looked at her. 

“Yeah,” Fauna agreed. “Well, Sarah went, so the story goes, but there wasn’t much she could do but keep her father comfortable. Her mother had passed a few years prior so there was no one else to help care for him. She gave him his own medicine and tonics to soothe him, until they ran out and she used ones she had made and brought with her from home. However, when the priest came to visit and saw what she was doing, called her ministrations witchcraft and rallied the already suspicious townspeople to physically remove her from her fathers side. The townspeople set up a round the clock guard, never allowing her the ability to see him. He lived for five more days, screaming in agony and calling for his daughter to help him.” 

“Jesus,” Mulder said and Scully swallowed hard as Fauna nodded. 

“Yeah. It’s quite a tragic story,” she said softly. 

“What happened to her?” Scully asked and Fauna sighed. 

“Lived the rest of her days in her little house, trying to perfect her remedies, though no one ever used them. They were found after she died and before they burned the house down with her body inside.” 

“Oh, God,” Scully said, shaking her head as Fauna nodded slowly. 

“She’s obviously not buried in the cemetery, but there is a headstone there with her name on it along with the year of her birth and death. It wasn’t until years later that it was erected though, people having heard the story and minds changed as medicine evolved. It’s one of my favorite places to visit, especially knowing the cemetery was one of the main views she had from her home.” 

“What?” Mulder asked, leaning forward in his seat, and Fauna nodded. 

“Yeah, her and Obadiah’s home was near the cemetery, just before the edge of the forest that abuts it. Though it was a lot different back then.” 

Mulder looked at Scully and she knew at that moment that any plans to not visit the cemetery that night had just gone right out the window. 

Chapter Text

His flashlight shone across the grass as the passenger door slammed and Scully sighed, her own flashlight turning on and joining his beam. 

“Stick to the cemetery,” she said and he nodded, glancing toward the dark forest. 

“At least until tomorrow,” he said, his breath billowing out around him. 

“Tomorrow is fine with me,” she agreed, taking a step forward and nodding at him. 

Fauna had told them where to find Sarah’s headstone as she had walked with them to the car, stating she needed to cool down from the warmth of the office and also to tell them goodbye. Inky the cat had run up, winding around her legs and purring loudly. 

“Not ready to chase mice?” Fauna had asked, bending down to pick him up and hold him like a baby. He had purred even louder, pressing into her hand. “He’s a stray that adopted me, not the other way around. As soon as he let me pet him, I felt like a proper spinsterly witch.” 

They had all laughed and then Fauna had looked at Mulder as she scratched behind Inky’s ears.  

“You still have a question you want to ask,” she had stated and he stared at her before glancing quickly at Scully. 

“Do you think Sarah has anything to do with the recent disappearances?” 

“No, that’s not the right question.” 

“No?” 

“No.” Fauna had smiled and raised her eyebrows as she waited. 

“You think she did. But not how others in this area may believe,” he had said and she had sighed, tilting her head minutely. “You think she, and by that I mean the area, has… magical properties.” 

He had heard Scully’s sigh, one he had heard thousands of times. The one that meant she did not believe a word he said and the logical side could not possibly correlate with the fantastic one. 

But he had kept his gaze on Fauna and watched as she had drawn in a deep breath, put Inky down, and brushed off her hands. 

“When I was sixteen, I was struggling with my sexuality. I knew that I was gay. Had known for a long time, but I didn’t know how to tell others. I was so scared my parents wouldn’t understand and…” Fauna had shaken her head and sighed loudly, looking off into the distance. “I was depressed, withdrawing from everyone, even Flora, which was odd for us. She’s two years older than me, but we always said we had been meant to be twins.” She had smiled and shaken her head again. 

“I had already known about Sarah, of course, but not to the extent I do now. Not until I spent time walking in the cemetery and then sitting in front of Sarah’s headstone,” Fauna had wiped at her eyes and laughed softly. “I don’t have faith in God, I lost that long ago, but I did have faith in her, in her past and the struggles that she had faced. I felt that pain and sadness she’d had in her life. I empathized with her on my own level and that day in the cemetery I broke down.” 

Inky had meowed, rubbed around Fauna’s legs again, put his paws on her shin and looked up at her. He had meowed again and she had laughed, bending to pet him. 

“I’m okay. Thank you,” she had said and Inky had laid down and rubbed against her boots. “See? He’s adopted me.” 

“Couldn’t be any clearer,” Scully had said softly and Fauna had smiled. 

“That day in the cemetery,” she had said, continuing her story. “I cried harder than I ever had before. It hurt in every aspect. I had horribly dark thoughts that I whispered as I leaned closer to her headstone, almost like a prayer, if I believed in that kind of thing. I felt… broken and…” 

She had stopped talking and took a few breaths, looking down at Inky as he stared at her with his lantern-like eyes. 

“I felt this… this feeling on me,” she had said quietly. “It was a windy day, but not wild or anything. And what I felt was not wind. It was like something was being wrapped around me. Not arms, not like a hug, but like a blanket or something encompassing.” 

Mulder had glanced at Scully and watched her watch Fauna, a concerned look on her face. 

“As soon as I felt that heavy pressure, I stopped crying. I felt a peace wash over me. A calm. Like… a warm drink on a cold day. Or a balm on a wound. I felt instantly better and the worry I had was gone. I sat up and stared at Sarah’s name, thanking her, because I knew it had to be her. Her spirit, whatever you want to call it, had been there and she had healed my sadness. She saved me from a very bad place I had found myself in that day.” She had looked up, tears in her eyes, and smiled at them. “Ever since then, she’s been my obsession. Trying to emulate her concern for those who shunned her and treated her so terribly. I visit her grave often, leaving flowers there and where their house once stood. Some people say the cemetery is scary or the woods are haunted. But for me, it’s not. It’s peace and harmony balancing in nature and in me anytime I walk within it.” 

“So,” Mulder had said, nodding in understanding. “Do you think it’s possible that Sarah, in some unexplainable way, could have seen the men and thought they needed help? So she took them somehow, wanting to rectify the past she could not control?” 

“I don’t know,” Fauna had said, wiping her eyes again. “It sounds more than impossible. Crazy even. But then so does my story. But I know what I felt. I know what I experienced, so I fear my opinion may be a bit biased.” 

Mulder sighed as he thought of Fauna’s words as he shone his flashlight on a headstone, a thought filling his head that he was not sure he wanted to acknowledge. 

“Just up here,” Scully said ahead of him and he nodded. “This is actually where we were walking earlier today. We probably saw it and had no idea it was there.” 

“Yeah,” he said, licking his dry lips. 

“You know,” she said, shining her light around and then looking at him. “I think this is where you received your karma and nearly fell.” She smiled and he forced one back, but did not feel it. “Be careful this time. Minimal injuries, remember.” 

“Ha ha,” he said as she turned around and chuckled softly. 

He shone his light to his right and stopped in his tracks, swallowing hard as he read Sarah’s name. 

“It’s here,” he said quietly, and he saw her flashlight swing around as she joined him. 

“This is the spot where you slipped, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” he said, staring at the green moss growing on Sarah’s headstone. 

“Fauna said Obadiah’s headstone is close to hers. Two rows up from here. I want to see his too.” 

“I’ll catch you up,” he said, and she continued on alone. 

His hand holding the flashlight began to feel warm and he switched it to the other hand, but the feeling remained. He flexed his hand and glanced over his shoulder at Scully, her light now far away. 

Reaching out his hand, he paused, sure it would be a bad idea, but still needing to know. 

Closing his eyes, he placed his palm upon the extremely cold headstone, and the warm sensation in his hand began to grow. 

Chapter Text

Scully closed her motel room door, leaning against it as she shivered. Cold enough outside without the sudden surprise downpour as they had stood in the cemetery, she was now soaked through and in desperate need of a shower to warm up. 

Turning her heater on high, she shivered again as she went into the bathroom. Stripping down as the water warmed up, she looked at her reflection and shook her head. Stepping into the shower, she sighed with relief as the warm water hit her chilled skin. 

Washing twice and staying in until the water began to start cooling, she got out and dried off, then wrapped the thin towel around her body. 

“So much better,” she said, wiping the steam from the mirror. 

Taking another towel down, she squeezed the water from her hair somewhat before running a brush through it and then wrapping it in the towel. 

Opening the bathroom door, she was hit by a wave of freezing air, causing her to gasp and step back, closing the door again. 

“Shit,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Goddamn it.” 

Sighing, she opened the door again and hurried to her suitcase, getting dressed as she whined and shivered. 

Standing in front of the heater, she tried to fix it, thinking maybe she had done something wrong. No matter how she turned it or set it, the air was freezing. 

“Shiiiiit,” she said, shivering as she closed the panel and went to the phone. 

Ten minutes later, after Darcy’s father, who was working that evening, had come to look at the heater but was unable to fix it, she stood in front of Mulder’s door and knocked. Her hair was still slightly damp and she shivered in the cold air. Her fingers felt nearly numb against her lips as she attempted to warm them. 

The door opened and he looked at her with wide eyes. 

“Hi,” he said and she sighed. 

“My heater’s broken.” 

“Oh. Is it now? In the room that you so carefully chose when we arrived? That heater broke?” he asked with a smile. 

“Mulder,” she said, shivering again. “Yes, okay? It did. Can I please come in?” 

“Of course.” He opened the door further and stepped back to let her enter. 

“Oh, it’s so warm in here,” she said, standing in front of his heater and holding out her hands with a contented hum as she closed her eyes. 

“Are they working on fixing it?” he asked as the door shut and she shook her head. 

“No. They said they’ll have to call someone about it tomorrow. Can I turn this up a little?” 

“Sure,” he said and she opened her eyes, setting the heater to eighty. 

“Not for long, but just a bit. I know you run hot.” 

“You coming onto me?” he joked and she laughed softly as she shook her head. “Make it as warm as you like. I can lose some layers if I need to.” 

“Okay,” she said with a smile. 

“Although, if you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was ask. Breaking your heater to come over here… that’s going pretty far.” 

“Shut up,” she said with another laugh, looking at him over her shoulder. He smiled and shrugged. “I just need to warm up a bit and then I’ll go back to get my things for the night.” 

“Oh, you’re moving in?” he teased.  

“You said that we’d have to share if something happened,” she reminded him, raising her eyebrows. “I’m simply taking you up on that offer. Especially as there isn’t another room available. I already asked and they’re completely booked up.”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s fine then.” 

“Oh, how very kind of you,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “I’ll go back over to my room when I have feeling in my fingers again.” 

“Stay,” he said with a smile. “I’ll go get your things.” 

“You don’t have to do that. I can go.” 

“Stay,” he said again. “It’s fine.” 

“No, I can do it and… God, I left my coat on the bathroom floor. I was going to hang it up.” 

“Scully. I got it,” he said. “It’s the least I could do to welcome you into my humble abode. Mi casa es su casa. Or no wait… what’s the Spanish word for room?” 

“Mulder,” she said with a scoffing chuckle. 

“Whatever the word is, the place is yours. Besides, your hair is wet for god's sake, Scully. And you’re only wearing those thin pajamas. In fact… here.” She turned towards him and watched him take off the hooded sweatshirt he was wearing and hand it to her, leaving him in black sweatpants and a dark gray henley. “Put this on.” 

“No. Mulder…” 

“Yes. It’s warm, you’re cold.” 

“But-”

“Scully… put the damn sweatshirt on.” 

She sighed and took it, putting it on and staring at him. 

“Happy now?” 

He looked her up and down and smiled with a nod. 

“It fits you perfectly.” 

She snorted as she dropped her arms to her sides and the sleeves hung far past her fingers. 

“Yup. Perfectly.” 

“Hey, when you’re short…” He shrugged and grinned as she narrowed her eyes. “I’ll go get your things and be right back. Key?” She handed it to him and smiled. 

“Thank you.” 

“Stay here. Warm up. I’ll be back.” He slipped on his shoes and opened the door with a nod, closing it as he stepped outside. 

“Hmm,” she hummed, turning back to the heater and pushing the sleeves up to put her hands out again to warm them. Taking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes, the comforting scent of Mulder all around her. 

He must have recently washed the sweatshirt as it smelled like a mix of his laundry detergent and the scent that was unique to him. His Mulder scent that she would know anywhere; a combination of his body wash, cologne, and him. 

Pulling the hood up, she held the fabric to her nose and breathed in with a smile. God, he smelled good. Her cheeks flushed and she turned the heater down, now feeling warm. 

She walked to the small table in the room and looked down. The pamphlet Flora had given him was there, along with the files about the missing men, and a notebook Mulder had been writing in, attempting to connect the dots to everything. 

She went into the bathroom to use the hair dryer, shaking her head at his tube of toothpaste lying on the counter and squeezed from the middle. Unable to stop herself, she fixed it, making it less chaotic. 

Taking the hair dryer off the wall, she pushed the hood back and began to dry her hair. 

Mulder appeared in the doorway, a couple of minutes later, her wet coat on a hanger. He shook his head as he hung the coat on the shower rod, beside his own, to dry overnight. 

“It’s absolutely freezing in there,” he said over the sound of the hair dryer and she shut it off with a nod, picking up his brush and pulling it through her hair. 

“Exactly why you’ve gained a roommate.” 

“Let me get your toiletries for you, roomie before you need to borrow… oh, I see you’ve already had your way with my toothpaste,” he said in a droll tone and she tried not to smile. 

“It begged me to set it right.” 

“Sure,” he said, chuckling low and shaking his head as he left the room. 

She turned the hair dryer on again and thanked him for her toiletry bag with a nod as he set it on the counter and walked away. 

Her teeth brushed and face moisturizer on, she brushed her hair one more time and left the bathroom, turning off the light. 

He was sitting at the table, looking through the files, his left leg bouncing absentmindedly. Feeling extremely tired, she stood between him and the bed, debating if she should join him or go to sleep. 

“I think I’m gonna go to bed,” she said, feeling him out to see if he had any wild theories to discuss, but he only looked at her with a nod. 

“Take any side you like. Mi cama es su cama,” he said and she smiled. 

“You know the word for bed, but not bedroom?” 

“It rhymes with casa, it’s easy to remember.” He shrugged with a grin and she laughed softly. 

“Oh, here,” she said, starting to take off his sweatshirt. 

“No, keep it on.” 

“I’m warmed up now, you need it-”

“Nah. I’m hot, remember. You said so yourself.” 

“Not exactly what I said,” she said, readjusting his sweatshirt and chuckling as she looked at him. 

“Eh,” he said with a shrug. “I know what I heard.” 

“Whatever,” she said, raising her hands, the sleeves still covering them. 

“I’m not ready to go to sleep yet. Will the light bother you?” 

“No,” she said with a yawn. “It’s been a long day. Thank you for getting my things. And not refusing me and forcing me to sleep in the car.” 

“Wait, that was an option? Shit… Well, next time, I suppose.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, smiling as she pulled the covers back and sat down. Turning off the light on the nightstand, she laid down, covered up, and closed her eyes. 

“If the light does bother you, let me know,” he said softly and she sighed. 

“It won’t,” she said tiredly. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Scully.” 

Comforted by the warmth of the room, Mulder’s scent, the sound of papers being turned, and Mulder humming occasionally as his pen clicked and he wrote something down, she soon fell asleep. 

Chapter Text

Lightning flashed and then a few seconds later, thunder rolled quietly as the rain that had begun in the cemetery fell harder. Mulder rolled his neck and then stretched his back, yawning as he shook his head. 

Scully hummed in her sleep and then turned over, exhaling softly. He smiled as he watched her and then stood up, stretching again. 

He looked down at the notes in his notebook and grasped his hand, running his thumb across his palm. 

It no longer hurt, but felt… he could not quite find the right word to give it a name that would make sense to anyone besides himself, but it was a feeling. 

When he was younger, after Samantha was gone, he had horrible stomach aches. Ones that left him crying silently in the bathroom, not wanting anyone to hear him. He hated them, but grew to expect and anticipate them. 

One night, it had become so terrible, he threw up blood. He had cried out for his mother and she rushed him to the emergency room, where he had been convinced that he was dying. 

Tests were run and he had been diagnosed with an ulcer. Medication had been given, with further instructions to stay home from school for a week and avoid conflict situations. 

His mother had not spoken on the way home about his ulcer or how they could help him be calm, because she knew, as had he, that it was impossible. 

Removing his worry for Samantha, along with his secret hidden thought that she was dead, would not do anything for him as his parents fighting had escalated and was a constant occurrence. His father drank every night, ratcheting it up since Samantha disappeared, and his mother was nearly always in bed, crying or sleeping. 

The conflict he needed to avoid was in the house and it was unavoidable. 

As he had gotten into bed, after drinking some water and taking his medication, his mother had hovered near him, reaching to touch his blankets and then pulling her hands away. A war seemed to be waging within her to offer comfort, but unsure of either how to do it, or if he would even accept it. 

“I’m sorry,” she had whispered, finally touching the blanket and adjusting it to lay flat. “I’m… I’m sorry, Fox.” 

“I’m okay, Mom,” he had told her, smiling and touching her hand, not wanting to add to her sadness. “Don’t need to worry about me.” 

“Of course there is,” she had whispered again, not meeting his eyes. “I just…” She choked on a sob and pulled her hands away. “I’m sorry.” 

She had left the room and closed the door behind her, but it did not stop him from hearing her tears. 

He had never displayed any signs of pain or discomfort in front of her after that, never told her when he felt sick or threw up. He had suffered in silence, not wanting to worry her. 

But the feeling that lingered within him, even after his ulcer had gone, he never forgot. 

It was like standing on the edge of a cliff and looking down, knowing you are about to jump. The swooping feeling of excitement and fear in your stomach, but also a sense of need to deny that feeling wholeheartedly. 

It was not anxiety, not stress, nor was it fear. 

It was as though he was always waiting for something. Ready to strike at any time, but at what? And why? 

When he had touched the headstone, his hand warm, he felt that same feeling settle in his stomach. A sense of anticipation for something he had no knowledge of, nor a plan to create in order to understand it. 

It was as though he was in a state of stasis, waiting for the moment when it would all fall in line. 

He sighed as he touched his hand again and then dropped his arms to his sides, shaking his head. 

Turning off the light after he had used the bathroom and brushed his teeth, he pulled the covers back and got into bed beside Scully. Lying on his back, he stared at the ceiling, his mind thousands of miles away. 

“Mmm,” Scully moaned, stretching toward him, her feet touching the side of his calf, her hand pressing gently against his ribs. 

He smiled as he turned his head to look at her, her mouth open slightly as she slept. 

The first time they had to share a room, early in their partnership, she had called the front desk to get a rollaway bed for one of them to sleep on, hesitant to share a bed. She had been angry and annoyed when she was told there were not any available, but he had not been concerned. 

Trying to make her feel more at ease about it, he had picked up food and they ate it at the table in the room, discussing the case. 

But the distraction had only lasted so long. 

She had not slept well, not at first. She had tossed and turned, keeping her distance from him before he had sighed loudly, trying another tactic. 

“I can’t sleep,” he had said, though he had actually been quite tired. “It’s too quiet, that’s what it is.” 

“Oh. You-”

“You wanna see if there’s a movie on?” 

“Oh. Umm, sure.” 

The light had been turned on, he had gone to the vending machine down the hall returning with chips, candy, and sodas, and they had found an old favorite movie they both liked. Laughing at the same scenes, discussing what they liked best, forty five minutes into it, Scully had started nodding off. 

Removing all the wrappers and extra food carefully from the bed, he had waited until she had fallen completely asleep, before turning off the light. Leaving the television on low, he had watched her as he listened to the movie. 

When they had come home, he had searched for a copy of the movie and bought it for her, giving it to her before they had left the office for the weekend. 

“In case you have trouble sleeping again,” he had said, shrugging sheepishly. 

“Thank you,” she had said softly, nodding as she had looked down at it with a smile. 

From then on, though not ideal, if they did have to share a room, it was not as uncomfortable as that first time. One of them, usually him, would say the title of the movie and the other would laugh.

An icebreaker offered and accepted. 

“Mmmulder,” she breathed and he turned on his side to face her, taking her hand and placing it beside her where she tucked it beneath her other one. 

“Dreaming about me, huh?” he whispered with a smile, brushing a piece of hair off of her face and putting it behind her ear. “Hope it’s a good one.” 

“Hmm,” she hummed, one eyebrow going up. 

“Stubborn and skeptical even while you sleep,” he whispered, laughing silently. “Always keeping me on my toes.” 

He listened to her soft breathing and the rain falling steadily outside. Moving his leg, he covered hers and she sighed as she shifted closer to him, a faint smile on her lips. 

“Yeah, it’s a good dream,” he whispered, smiling as he closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. “Goodnight, Scully.” 

Chapter Text

Scully stretched and hummed as she turned over, holding onto the pillow beneath her head. Hearing the shower running, she opened her eyes and looked around the room. 

Oh. Right. 

She heard something fall, followed by Mulder saying shit. She smiled as she moved her legs beneath the sheets and closed her eyes again, knowing she had a moment before she would need to actually get up. 

She now remembered waking in the night, the feeling of a heavy weight around her waist. A sense of panic had filled her until she realized it was Mulder’s arm and she relaxed, as he breathed softly behind her. 

Used to sleeping alone, anytime they were forced to share a room, there was always a moment of awkwardness when they would wake up touching or especially when he was pressed against her, his lower half making its presence known. He would mumble an apology and move away from her, even as she stated that it was a normal human reaction and to not worry about it, though his sigh told her he definitely was. 

Sometimes when she would wake up, with him still asleep beside her or already up and readying for the day, she let her mind wander. She imagined how it would be if they lived together and she heard him singing in her shower or making coffee in her kitchen. 

She thought of watching television with him, lying on the couch with his fingers in her hair, yelling at the Knicks game or reciting some movie he had seen dozens of times. 

Then after… going to bed together to sleep or more often than not, to not sleep. 

Those thoughts though, they were best left for when they were no longer sharing a bed, as they could lead to trouble. 

Images of him loving her gently, adoringly, and more often than she would admit, with a firmer hand, made her flush and her stomach quiver. When she thought of the way he would look at her, his gaze penetrating and solely focused, her breath would catch and she needed to put physical space between them. 

The shower shut off and she opened her eyes, swallowing and then licking her lips. Metal rings slid across the metal shower rod once, then twice, and Mulder sang quietly as she heard him moving around the bathroom. 

“God,” she breathed, shaking her head to push away lingering thoughts. She sat up and stretched, needing to be up before he came out. 

Standing to her feet, she tugged at his sweatshirt and attempted to smooth down her hair which she knew would most likely be quite a mess. 

The bathroom door opened and he came out with a towel around his hips, the air behind him thick with steam. 

“Since you’ve gone, I’ve been lost without a trace,” he sang, catching her eye with a grin. “I dream at night, I can only see your face. I look around but it’s you I can’t replace. I feel so cold and I long for your embrace. I keep crying, “Baby, Baby, pleeeeease!” Yeah!” He raised his fist in the air and nodded aggressively. 

“It’s a bit early for songs of that nature, don’t you think?” she asked and he grinned again, walking towards her. 

“That part in particular was dedicated to you. Cold, longing for an embrace,” he said. “Dreaming at night and only seeing my face.” He clucked his tongue and her eyebrows shot up. 

“Dreaming about you?” 

“You said my name in your sleep,” he stated. “I hope you were dreaming about me. And… I really hope it was a good dream.” He pumped his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms. 

“Probably more likely that I was dreaming you wouldn’t hog the bathroom,” she said flatly. “Which you’ve clearly done this morning.” 

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head with an obnoxious grin. “First of all, you were still sleeping when I got up. And second, it wasn’t that. I’m sure of it.” She stared at him and shook her head. 

“Fine. Whatever,” she said, looking toward the bathroom. “Can I get in there?” 

“Mi baño es su baño,” he said and she scoffed as she walked past him. 

It was hot in the bathroom, the mirror half covered in steam as she washed her hands and stared at her reflection. Wiping the mirror with a spare washcloth, she brushed her teeth and washed her face, drying it on a towel and hanging it back up. 

Brushing her hair, she saw it was not as mismanaged as she previously thought. A little water brushed through it and the hair dryer set to high speed, it was easily fixed. 

“Knock, knock,” Mulder said, rapping his knuckles against the door. She opened it and he stood before her in slacks and a white undershirt. Looking down, she saw he was wearing boots, not his dress shoes. 

“Boots?” she asked as she started to take out her makeup. 

“I want to go to the widows rock today.” 

“I’m sure it won’t be muddy or slick. Nope, not one bit,” she said, looking at him in the mirror. 

“If you slip, I’ll catch you,” he said, winking as he reached for his deodorant. 

“You’ll be the one to slip,” she said under her breath as she opened her face lotion and began to apply it. He grinned and she smiled back with a roll of her eyes. 

They moved nearly in sync, reaching for things, moving out of the way, talking above the hair dryer when he used it on his own hair. 

He glanced down at the counter when he had finished getting ready and then touched the bottles she had sitting out, picking them up and examining them, then looking into her makeup bag. 

“Huh,” he said, setting the items down and meeting her eyes in the mirror. 

“Huh, what?” she asked. 

“I notice that none of those bottles contain green face goo.” 

“You mean my face mask?” 

“Yeah,” he said with a nod and half a smile. 

“Because I didn’t bring it with me.” 

“Just when we had to play happy husband and wife? Perpetuating the stereotype of the housewife in a mask, rollers, and a nightgown?” 

“I don’t use rollers,” she said in mock disgust, shaking her head slowly. “How dare you insinuate such a thing.” 

“But the green face mask is fine,” he said with a laugh. 

“Well, yeah, as I do use that often,” she said, leaning closer to the mirror to apply some mascara. 

“You do?” 

“Yes.” 

“I’ve never seen you wear it.” 

“I don’t usually wear it when you’re around. Or if you are, I don’t call you over to see and discuss it. What would be the point of that?” She recapped her mascara and turned her head to look at him. 

“But why do you use it?” 

“A face mask?” she asked with a smile. 

“Yeah. I mean… what is it for exactly? The end goal of using it is what I suppose I mean.” 

“Well,” she said, leaning her hip against the counter as she turned to face him. “It’s moisturizing.” 

“Better than face lotion?” he asked, pointing to her moisturizer. 

“Not better, just different because of how it’s applied. It doesn’t absorb the same way as lotion.” 

“Okay… what else?” 

“It’s exfoliating, if that’s the kind you buy. It also removes excess oil and helps to reduce the signs of aging.” She shrugged and he smiled as he raised his eyebrows with a whistle. 

“That’s a lot of promise in one little jar of green goo.” 

“Well,” she said, turning her head to look at her reflection, tilting her head to either side and then up and down. “I think it’s doing what’s intended. Especially the aging bit.” Looking back at him, she shrugged again and he stared at her, letting out a deep breath. 

Stepping closer to her, he looked at her closely, his eyes traveling from her forehead to her chin, across her cheeks and back to her forehead again as he brought his hand up to hold her chin between his thumb and index finger. 

“What are you doing?” she whispered. 

He did not answer, but instead tilted her head gently, guiding her with his touch. Her stomach clenched as she stopped breathing and watched him looking at her face. 

“You’ve been using it for a long time?” he asked in a low voice and she nodded. 

“About five years,” she replied softly. 

“Hmm, so I’ve known you longer than you’ve been using it.” 

“I suppose,” she agreed, her breathing now returning, her heart rate increasing. 

“I don’t see a change. You look the same to me.” 

“Then… then it’s… it’s working,” she said, her words getting stuck in her throat. 

“I don’t think that’s it,” he said, smiling at her and moving his fingers from her chin to trail them gently down to right below her chin. “I think it’s just you. Age defying and continuing to look the same as you did when I first met you. With considerably less shoulder pad bulk, of course.” 

He smiled and she let out a breath-like laugh. His hand moved from her face and she pitched forward slightly, covering it with a step toward the mirror. 

“Well, thank you,” she said, her breath still sounding too loud in her own ears. “But I think I’ll… continue to use the mask.” 

He nodded and seemed on the verge of saying something when his phone rang. He looked at her and then turned to leave the bathroom. 

Letting out a breath, she looked at herself in the mirror as she heard him speaking to Skinner. Her cheeks were flushed and her chest was rising and falling too quickly. 

“Jesus Christ. Get it together, Dana,” she said, shaking her head. 

Hurriedly clearing her things away, she left the bathroom and put on her shoes to go back to her room and get dressed. Picking up her room key, she caught Mulder’s eye and he nodded as she opened the door. 

Her room was still freezing as she quickly dressed, adding an extra layer under her clothes, not wanting to be too cold if they were going to hike to the rock. 

Putting on her own boots, she shivered as she opened the door and stepped out. 

“Oh, Agent Scully,” Darcy said, walking up at that exact moment, a tall brown haired man beside her. “My older brother Andy is going to take a look at your heater. He knows a little about them.” 

“Okay, great. Thank you, Andy. I really appreciate it.” 

“Of course,” he said with a grin. “Hopefully you won’t be suffering through the cold again tonight.” 

“Oh, I-” she began, but was interrupted as Mulder stepped out of his door with her coat over his arm. 

“Ready, Scully?” he asked and then smiled at Darcy. “Good morning, Darcy.” 

“Agent Mulder,” she said, smiling and tucking her hair behind her ear. “My brother Andy is gonna take a look at Agent Scully’s heater.” 

“Oh, that’s good. Though I’ll be sorry to see you go, roomie,” he said, smiling at her. 

“Yes, well,” Scully said, reaching to take her coat, the air too chilly for only her blazer. As she took it from him, she looked at him in surprise. “It’s warm.” 

“While I was talking to Skinner, I turned the heater up for a few minutes and laid it on top to warm it up for you,” he said with a shrug. 

“Thank you,” she said, putting it on and pulling it around her as she continued to look at him. 

“You’re welcome. Breakfast?” he asked and she nodded.

Saying goodbye to Darcy and Andy, they left them staring after them rather perplexedly. 

“FBI agents?” Andy asked. 

“Yup,” Darcy replied. 

“Work partners at the federal bureau?”  

“Uh huh.” 

“Well, you could’ve fooled me. They look like they could be a couple.” He shook his head and used the key to open door six, shivering as he stepped inside.  

“He warmed her coat up for her,” Darcy said softly to herself with a sigh. “Where can I find someone like that?” 

Chapter Text

The ground squished beneath his feet as they hiked up toward Edge Rock after they had eaten breakfast. A bottle of water each had been purchased at the convenience store next door before they then made their way to the outskirts of town. 

It was a beautiful day, crisp and cool, but sunny after the rainstorm the previous night. Aside from the wet ground and the subsequent mud it had created, it was a perfect fall day. 

“Suppose we’ll run into anyone out for a hike this morning?” he asked, turning his head to look at Scully. 

“If they had sense, they’d stay home and out of the mud and the cold,” she said and he smiled. 

“By the time we reach the top, I’m sure you’ll be wishing for it to be cooler,” he replied and she nodded. 

”Undoubtedly.” 

The trail they walked was wide and lined with large trees, the branches and leaves touching so it felt as though they were walking in a tunnel. It was quiet and peaceful, birds chirping and an occasional animal scurrying in the bushes and along the branches. 

“Stop,” Mulder said, putting a hand out and stopping Scully from walking any further. “It’s so quiet.” She looked around and nodded. “Our car is what, five minutes away? Maybe ten? But it feels like we’re miles away. It’s beautiful and humbling, isn’t it? We’ll leave here after this, and go on about our day, but this beauty remains day in and day out. It’s humbling when you think of the unnecessary importance we place on meetings and phone calls, deadlines… anything really. That all goes on outside of here and yet the forest remains quietly steadfast.” 

“Wow…” Scully said, meeting his eyes with a smile. 

“What?”

“That’s a really poetic way of thinking about it.” 

“I am quite a romantic,” he stated somewhat teasingly and she raised her eyebrows. “What? Why does that surprise you?” 

“It doesn’t surprise me at all,” she said, shaking her head. 

“But?” 

“But nothing. I was simply agreeing with you. It’s a poetic way to look at it. Our lives are lived in a city where things move quickly. It’s…” She looked around again and smiled. “It’s nice to take a moment and reflect. Even if we are on the way to a rock overlooking the valley below, which an ostracized woman used to frequent before her death.” 

“Jesus,” he said, shaking his head. “I think the romance is gone. Time of death… seven after ten in the morning, October twenty eighth.” She laughed and started walking again, leaving him watching her as he shook his head. 

They continued on the path, meeting a few people who had braved the muddy trail, coming down as they made their way up, obviously not privy to Scully’s advice to stay in where it was warm. 

A large dog suddenly came barreling down the trail and threw himself at Scully, barking at her and putting his feet on her legs and then her midsection, her coat becoming covered in the mud he seemed to so happily have rolled in. 

“Potato!” A woman shouted as she came around the corner and spotted them, hurrying over to get her dog. “Oh my God, I’m so, so sorry! Potato, get off of her! I’m so sorry. He slipped off his leash.” 

“It’s okay,” Scully said, pushing the dog off with a grunt. 

“He’s very sweet. Just a puppy, actually. He doesn’t know his own strength yet,” the woman said, grabbing the dog by the collar and securing his leash. “Again, I am so incredibly sorry.” 

“Just a little mud. It’s no big deal,” Scully said, attempting to wipe the excess mud from her coat. 

“I’ll pay for the dry cleaning. Please,” the woman said, trying to keep a handle on her rambunctious and happy puppy. 

“It’s not a problem, I assure you,” Scully said, smiling at the woman. “I used to have a dog. I know that accidents can happen. He’s cute. And Potato… that’s an interesting name.” 

“My niece named him. She’s three and thought it was funny. We thought she was joking, but…” The woman shrugged and Potato barked happily at Scully again, who reached out to pet him. His tail wagged as he sat down and this time remained calm. 

“Hey there, Potato. You be good now and stay on your leash. It can be dodgy out in the woods.” 

He barked again and licked her hand, his whole body wiggling. 

“Again, I’m so sorry,” the woman said. “Thank you for understanding. I really wish you’d take me up on my offer.” 

“It’s fine,” Scully said, smiling at the woman and giving Potato one final pat. “Have a nice day.” 

“You too. Goodbye.” 

She walked away, Potato pulling at the leash to come back to Scully, whining as the woman urged him to follow her. 

“Seems you made a friend,” Mulder said, watching Potato look back once more before they disappeared from sight. 

“A messy one at that,” she said, looking down at her coat. “I’m really hoping this is only mud and not… other things.” He laughed and stepped closer to gauge the mess. 

“It’s hard to say for sure,” he said, looking at her and smiling. “Let’s think mud and not shi-”

“Yes, thank you,” she said, holding up a hand. “I’m already thinking it, you don’t have to say it.” She shook her head and he laughed as they began to walk again. 

“We’ll find a dry cleaners once we leave here. Hopefully it won’t take too long to clean it.” 

“Hopefully,” she said, sighing as she brushed at it again. “He was cute though. Happy and excited is all.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Sometimes I miss having a dog,” she said, stepping around a large tree that had fallen. “But then… Maybe one day I’ll have another one.” 

“Maybe,” he agreed, smiling at her and nodding. 

“And I’ll go the route of that woman’s niece and name him something wild like Soup.” 

They both laughed and followed the path to the right. The incline became greater, and their focus fell to walking without slipping and breathing deeply. 

Reaching the rock, they stopped and caught their breath, looking out at the valley below them. 

“Wow,” Scully said, stepping closer to the edge. “It’s so beautiful up here. Quiet and lacking people to pester you with their inane questions and thoughts.” 

“Probably why Sarah came up here so often. To get away from everyone.” 

“I’d say that’s accurate,” she whispered and he looked over at her, watching as she took in the view around them. 

“Do you think she thought about ending her life while she was up here? Considering all she had lost and how she was treated?” 

“Hmm,” she said, and then shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so. And if she did, I don’t think it would be for the reasons we may think.” 

“How do you mean?” 

“Well…” she said thoughtfully. “She’d had lots of loss in her life with Obadiah and her parents. Not to mention how horribly she was treated. I could see the draw to it, to end the sadness and no longer feel anything.” She shook her head again and sighed. “But I think she was quite religious and would view it as a mortal sin. She would think about that and what it would entail if she did end her life.” 

“Purgatory?” 

“Yes and no. I’d say it was more so that it would be the question of where she would spend her afterlife if she took her life. Would she be made clean enough to enter heaven?” 

“Hmm,” he said, looking back out over the valley. 

“But, you know what I think about above all else?” she continued, and he looked at her again. 

“What’s that?” 

“I think she came here to make them talk about her. Make her a story. A person who should be avoided, to a degree. I think after a while she probably thought, fuck all of them, who cares what they think? ” she said with a shrug. “Of course, at the time, her thoughts were probably more along the lines of, thouest will not make a mockery of me. A pox on you all.” 

He laughed and she smiled, shrugging as she looked out at the view again. 

“No, I don’t think she would take her life, although I’m sure those thoughts did enter her mind. I think she was wiser than the time period allowed.” 

“You and she would probably have been good friends,” he said and she smiled as she glanced at him. “Opened an apothecary like Fauna did, wanting to help people.” 

“I would most likely have been given away to a man that offered the highest price or status for my family. The younger I was, the better,” she said with a deep sigh as he stared at her. She looked at him and shrugged. “You would have most likely done very well for yourself. An affluent white man. You would have had your pick of women. But me… no. It would have been very different for me.” 

“That’s…” 

“Different times,” she said quietly. “Life expectancy was lower. Sicknesses had no cures. I would have been married by sixteen, possibly dying in childbirth, which would leave my widowed husband a chance at marrying again and finding a wife for his child. Or, if the child died too, then at least he would find another mate and not be alone for the rest of his life. But a woman remarrying, was not socially acceptable. Especially if she was older, past her childbearing years.” 

“Jesus,” he said. “I didn’t think…” 

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “So like I said, thouest will not make a mockery of me.” 

She held her fist up and smiled at him. He did not smile back, but shook his head as he reached for her other hand, squeezing it gently. 

“Fuck all of them,” he whispered and she squeezed his hand as she nodded. 

"Fuck all of them,” she repeated. He nodded and interlocked their fingers as the wind blew and they looked out beyond the edge of the rock. 

Chapter Text

Home of Trevor Jones 
12:30 p.m.

“Oh. Hurry in. It’s cold out and you’ve not got a coat,” Mrs. Jones, the grandmother of the second missing man, Trevor Jones, said to Scully as she ushered them inside. “You need something warmer on you.”

“Thank you,” Scully said with a smile. “I do have a coat, but we just had to drop it at the dry cleaners.” 

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Jones said, closing the door. “Nothing too awful of a reason for it, I hope.” 

“No. Simply an unfortunate mishap with an overly excited and very muddy dog,” Scully told her. “Completely unavoidable.” 

“Well, I hope it’s cleaned and ready for you soon. There’s a chance of snow coming. I can feel it in my knees and they’ve never been wrong yet. I’ll make us all some tea, that should warm us up.” 

“That would be great,” Scully said and Mrs. Jones nodded, leading them into the living room and telling them to make themselves comfortable. 

They looked around the room that was decorated mostly in pastel colors. The side tables were covered in long peach colored tablecloths that ended in a ruffle. The couch was a pale floral print, as were the chairs sitting opposite it, all with ruffles along the bottom. 

Pictures on the wall were of three girls and a boy, no doubt Trevor and his sisters. They all had blonde hair, Trevor’s short, while the girls wore it long. In all of them, they smiled happily at the camera. 

“Seems like a pretty normal family,” Scully said, looking at more pictures, which catalogued the children as they grew. 

“Any family does from the outside,” Mulder stated and she nodded, knowing that was true. “Three sisters… Was he spoiled or abused by them?” He smiled at her and she smiled back. 

“I’d say a little of both. I doted on Charlie, but also punched or kicked him if he made me angry.” 

“Huh… that doesn't sound like you,” he said under his breath, glancing at her quickly as she laughed quietly. 

“You grow up with an older brother like Bill, you learn how to fight.” 

“So he’s always been an ass.” 

“That is a good assessment.” 

“Here we are,” Mrs. Jones said as she walked into the room, carrying a tray laden with tea cups and saucers, a teapot, and cream and sugar. “My neighbor was over a bit ago so the water was still warm. Just needed a heat up.” 

“Let me help you,” Mulder said, reaching for the tray but she shook her head. 

“Thank you, but I’ve got it.” She set the tray on the coffee table and smiled sadly at them. 

“Please have a seat.” 

They sat on the couch with her across from them in one of the overstuffed chairs, their cups of tea held on their laps. 

“Mrs. Jones-” Scully began. 

“Harriet, please.” 

“Harriet,” Scully said with a smile. “Could you tell us about Trevor? And about his disappearance?” 

“Trevor is such a good boy,” Harriet said, looking up at his picture above the couch. “He’s the youngest of four and was always a bit spoiled by all of us.” 

Mulder shifted and Scully knew he was silently telling her he had been right. 

“Trevor and his sisters lost their mother, my daughter, when he was seven. Their father had been gone since he learned my daughter was pregnant with Trevor, claiming he didn't want anymore children. Good riddance, I said, as he was a lazy man and left my Corrine to do all the work and then complained about it not being done properly. A real piece of work.” She shook her head and sighed. Taking a sip of tea, she looked at them. “I took them in when Corinne was pregnant and they all grew up here. When my daughter died, I had custody of them and I raised them on my own once my husband died. They’re all wonderful kids. Like I said, Trevor was spoiled and babied, but it left him empathetic and kind. When he was in high school on the lacrosse team, there was always a group of boys here talking and laughing. Those boys… they nearly ate us out of house and home.” She chuckled and then sighed, shaking her head. 

“Was he ever in any trouble?” 

“No,” Harriet said. “He was a good boy. He did anything I asked of him. He always let me know where he was going and when he’d be back. When he got home, he checked in and told me goodnight. He’s a good boy… a young man. He’s twenty two. Sometimes it’s hard for me to realize he’s not still a little boy playing in the backyard in the sandbox.” 

“Gram, I’m headed out now. I… oh hello,” a woman with long dark blonde hair said as she stepped into the room. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was here.” 

“This is Renée, Trevor’s oldest sister. Renée, these are the FBI agents who are here to help find Trevor and the other missing men.” 

“Good,” she said as Mulder and Scully stood from the couch to introduce themselves, their teacups set onto the coffee table. “The sheriff is…” She shook her head and clenched her jaw, biting back her words. “We need help.” 

“That’s what we’re doing here,” Mulder assured her. “We’ll do what we can to find them.” 

“Good,” she said again, nodding her head. “That other guy came back and he disappeared when Trevor did. Maybe that means he…” Her voice broke on a sob and Harriet stood up. Placing her teacup on the side table, she hugged her, the younger woman nearly a foot taller, but seeming small in her grandmother’s arms. 

“They’ll find him, Née. They will. I’ve been praying every night for guidance and help. And now they’re here. It will be okay.” 

“Yeah,” Renée said, sniffling and nodding her head. 

“It’s okay, honey. It’s all going to work out and be okay. I know it.” 

“I don’t know how you do,” Renée whispered and Harriet exhaled a soft laugh. 

“I don’t know either, but I do. I feel it.” 

Mulder looked at Scully and she glanced at him quickly before looking back at the women. Harriet was swaying with Renée, speaking quietly to her. After a moment, Renée stood to her full height and nodded at her grandmother. 

“Thank you, Gram.” 

“Of course, Née.” She smoothed Renée’s hair and then reached for a tissue from a side table. “Now, chin up and keep the faith.” 

“Yeah,” Renée said, laughing shakily and wiping her eyes. “Yeah. Okay.” 

“Good girl.” 

“I’m sorry,” she said, turning to Mulder and Scully and sniffling again. “It’s so hard not knowing if he’s okay. If he’s…” She looked at Harriet and nodeed. “We’ll find him.” 

“We will.” 

“Yeah.” She blew her nose and reached for another tissue. “I just miss him so much. Miss his stupid jokes and him barging into the house claiming he’s starving, no matter the time of day. That boy was always hungry.” 

“Yup. I was just telling them about Trevor and the lacrosse boys.”

“Oh!” Renée laughed and nodded as she wiped her eyes. “Nothing was safe if it was left in the pantry or fridge. Those boys would eat anything and everything. They’d scrape your plate clean, sopping it all up with bread or a tortilla. I had to keep my own food in my room just so I was assured that I would have something to eat.” 

“My brothers were the same,” Scully said with a smile. “Hungry and smelly, that’s what I remember most about them as teenagers.” 

“Oh, the smell…” Harriet said with a nod and they all laughed. “No offense to you, Agent Mulder. You actually smell very nice.” 

“No offense taken. I remember my teenage years quite… vividly,” Mulder said, making a face, and they laughed again. 

Renée sighed and looked at her grandmother. She hugged her again and then looked back at Mulder and Scully. 

“Thank you for being here. I… I will have to remember to have that faith my grandma’s talking about. Until then, I’ll do what I can to help. And on that note, I need to get going.” She smiled at her grandmother and she smiled back. 

“Call me when you get there?” 

“Always,” Renée said, kissing her grandmother on the cheek. “Love you.” 

“Love you, too.” 

Renée said goodbye to Mulder and Scully, waving to her grandmother and leaving the room. They heard the front door close and Scully watched Harriet sit down heavily into her chair, her body nearly doubling over. 

“Are you-” Scully started to say, taking a step toward her. 

“You have to find him,” Harriet said softly, looking up at her with tears in her eyes, appearing older than she had only seconds before. “My heart is broken without him.” 

“We’ll do all that we can to find him,” Scully said softly, and Harriet nodded, her tears spilling over. 

“Thank you. Thank you both.” 

Chapter Text

Scully sighed beside him as she closed the car door, waving goodbye to Harriet who was standing in the doorway and seeing them off. 

“I really hope we find Trevor,” she said quietly as Harriet shut the door and Scully looked at him. “For her sake above all others. She’s lost so much and she’s strong for everyone else, but…” 

“Yeah,” Mulder said in agreement. “She’s incredibly kindhearted. She doesn’t deserve to have that sadness lingering in her life.” 

“No.” 

“Speaking of that kindness… how’s the coat?” he asked, smiling at her and she looked down as she shook her head. 

“Unbelievable,” she replied and he laughed. 

As they had ended their meeting with Harriet and she was walking them to the door, she had clucked her tongue at the thought of Scully going out without a coat. 

“I’m telling you, snow is on the way,” she had said and shook her head. “You’re going to be freezing, popping in and out of places today.” 

“I’ll be okay,” Scully had promised her, smiling and gently squeezing her arm. 

“You won’t be, of that I’m sure. You’re not from here, you don’t know how quickly the cold can set in,” Harriet had warned and then put a finger up. “Hold on a moment.” 

She had opened her front closet and searched through the many hanging coats until she pulled out a black one and held it up to Scully. 

“You’re about the same size as my youngest granddaughter, Amy. She’s away at college and won’t be needing this coat. You take it, in case yours isn’t clean soon enough.” 

“Oh, no. I can’t,” Scully had said, shaking her head and trying to stop Harriet from handing it to her. “That’s very kind of you, but-”

“Pshh,” Harriet had said, holding the coat open and raising her eyebrows at Scully. “I insist. I won’t rest easy knowing you’re out and about in only that thin blazer. Go on, put it on.” 

Scully had looked at Mulder, silently asking for his help, but he had only grinned. She had smiled tightly and slid her arms in the sleeves, fixing the collar and then tugging at the front. 

“Let’s see,” Harriet had said and Scully turned to face her. “Yup. Just as I thought- a perfect fit. You keep that one until your own is free of mud. Like I said, my Amy won’t be needing it and you will. There might even be a pair of gloves in the pocket too. I always insisted on that when they were younger and they still make sure to keep them there so they know where to find them.” 

Scully had put her hands into the pockets and pulled out a pair of fuzzy black gloves and Harriet had clapped with a smile. 

“Just as I thought,” Harriet had said, nodding at Scully. “Now I will know you’re warm and okay. My knees have never lied before and they have been aching the past two days.” 

“Thank you,” Scully had said with a smile. “I appreciate it.” 

“You’re welcome,” Harriet had said, opening the door and shivering as the cold air blew inside. 

“She reminds me of my mom,” Scully said, smoothing down the borrowed coat as she looked back at the house. “I could see her doing something like this. Must be their generation.” 

“That and who they are as people,” he said with a nod. 

“Yeah.” She smiled at him and sighed again. “I know it hasn’t been long since breakfast, but after that hike, I’m hungry. How about we get some lunch and you tell me that theory you’ve been mulling over?” 

“What theory?” he asked, trying to keep the smile off of his face. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Mulder,” she said, tapping the vents to let him know to turn on the car to get the heater going. “Seven years I’ve known you. I can practically hear your brain whirring like a machine spitting out facts and figures. Except in your case it’s facts with a touch of fantasy.” 

He laughed as she glanced sideways at him and he started the car, turning the heater on full blast and she hummed happily, holding her hands in front of the vents. 

________

“So let’s hear it,” she said after they had ordered and they sat on the enclosed heated porch of a small cafe. Not many people were around so they were able to speak freely. “I’ve not heard one word about the Tali-Keno since we got here and I’m beginning to think you’ve lost your touch. Have you accepted my theory that this might be some doctor gone off the grid?” 

“A doctor who performs a miracle and expects no praise or recognition? I’ve not met many doctors like that,” he said and she raised her eyebrows, blinking slowly. “Present company excluded, of course.” 

“Mm-hmm,” she said, moving her napkin-wrapped utensils to her right side. “Let me hear the extreme, so I can counter with reason.” He smiled and nodded, sitting forward as he clasped his hands. 

“You’d be slipping if you didn’t think I believe that Sarah Blackwell had something to do with the four disappearances.” 

“I would indeed,” she said with a look and a sigh. “Just as you would be slipping, if you didn’t think I would tell you that was beyond impossible.” 

“Yeah. But, hear me out first. Then we can discuss it. Deal?” 

“Against my better judgment, I will agree.” 

“Fantastic,” he said sarcastically with an eye roll. 

Clasping her own hands on the table, she nodded at him and let out a breath. 

“Go.” 

“You’re right that I don’t think this is the Tali-Keno. That was believed to be more evil, scary, fear inspiring. This… I don’t believe what Peter experienced, or what the others may still be experiencing, is evil or scary. They may be scared, but the intent is not to cause harm or fear.” 

“Because you think… what?” 

“I think Sarah’s trying to heal them. That she’s trying to do in death, what she couldn’t do in life, which is save people.” 

“That’s why you asked Harriet about Trevor having any known health problems,” she said and he nodded. “But he didn’t.” 

“No. No, he didn’t.” 

“So…” She waved a hand around and raised her eyebrows again. 

“Not any known health problems, Scully.” He stared at her and she blinked back at him. 

“So, you think maybe he had some condition that that coat lending, saint of a woman, didn’t know about?” 

“Well,” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t think I’d put it that way, but yeah, it’s possible. Maybe he never complained. Maybe he didn’t even know, but something is there that could may be causing him harm.” 

“Okay… and he was taken by Sarah Blackwell’s spirit?” 

“Into the forest by the cemetery, as he was at the same party with Peter.” 

“The forest? The forest that was searched? You think Trevor, along with the others, were taken into the woods, but not seen by anyone even as the forest was searched?” 

“I do.” 

“Because?” 

“Because the forest holds something within it.“ 

“Magic?” she asked, staring at him in disbelief, and he shook his head. 

“Magic is subjective, especially as we determine it, with all its smoke and mirrors. I could show you a card trick and you might know how I did it, while another person might find the wonder in it.” 

“Is that what Peter meant? That you had felt the… magic… in the forest?” 

“Yes and no,” he said. “I still don’t know exactly what he was referring to as I don’t know what he experienced while he was missing.” 

“But you felt something. In the forest. You already said as much.”

“It was just a feeling.” 

“And you’re convinced that feeling was Sarah in the forest, her spirit I mean?” 

“Well, I didn’t know about her at the time, but now that I do know… I do think that it’s her. Or her spirit.” 

“And you think that her spirit could have taken those men and… hidden them somehow out of view from the many people searching the forest, multiple times I might add, as there have been multiple people taken? You think a spirit could do that?” 

“Is it so hard to believe?”

“Yes. Extremely.” 

“Why?” 

“Mulder,” she said, sitting back and shaking her head. “Let’s say that instead of the spirit of two hundred year old dead women, it was the spirit of the Lord. That people who had  disappeared and reappeared, claimed they had been in the presence of God and I told you that I believed them, because I had felt it too. What would you say to me? Be honest. What would you say?” 

He stared at her and opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. 

“I’ll tell you what you would say. The same thing you have told me any time religion, my religion especially, plays a part in a case that we are investigating. You scoff, act disinterested, or poke fun at a theory I might have because it’s based in a religion which you do not believe. You would be more willing to believe that a ghost, or a spirit of a person, dwells somewhere, instead of in the higher power of God because you do not claim a religion.” She swallowed and exhaled through her nose, staring into his eyes. 

She was right, of course. But did she also not hear that what she accused him of, was exactly what she was doing to him? 

She suddenly laughed softly and shook her head again as she closed her eyes. 

“It’s the same thing, isn’t it?” she asked, nearly in a whisper, opening her eyes. “A spirit, in any form, is still just that, but we both believe the other is incorrect when it comes to their own personal feelings.” 

“Except in this case, I know I’m right,” he teased and she exhaled another laugh as she stared at him. He smiled and she exhaled again. 

“I can’t agree wholeheartedly with this theory. I still… still feel it’s a doctor of some kind, practicing medicine of which he has no right,” she said and he nodded. 

“Then, I’ll just have to work hard at proving that my theory is correct,” he said as simultaneously, the waiter brought their food and his cell phone began to ring. He stood from the table and stepped away to answer it. 

“Mulder.” 

“The law is doing nothing,” said a voice, loud in his ear. He pulled the phone away and stared at it, before putting it closer, but not directly against his ear. 

“Hello?”

“Agent Mulder! Can you hear me?!” 

“Trevor Jones has been gone for over a month. Where is he?!” said the loud voice, on what Mulder now realized was a megaphone.

“Hello?” Mulder asked again, glancing at Scully and frowning. 

“Agent Mulder, it's the sheriff! We’ve got a situation over here!” 

“The men missing are our friends, brothers, sons. They are confused and scared! But what has the sheriff done? Not enough! I don’t have time for your incompetence, Sheriff! They don’t have time for it! We need to find them!” 

Mulder heard a crowd cheering as the loud voice quieted somewhat and the sheriff sighed wearily. 

“We got a large crowd gathered outside the station. I could really use some assistance from you and Agent Scully.” 

“Hell no! We won’t go! Hell no! We won’t go!” 

The crowd began chanting along with the speaker using the megaphone and the sheriff swore. 

“We’re on our way, Sheriff. Be there soon.” 

He hung up and walked back to the table, looking down at his club sandwich and fries, his stomach growling. 

“What’s going on?” 

“We’re going to need to get these to go,” he said, popping a fry into his mouth. “There’s some trouble brewing at the sheriff’s station.” 

Chapter Text

“Whoa,” Scully said as they reached the sheriff’s station and saw the crowd of people gathered outside of it. “Is that… Ashley with them?” 

“Looks like it,” Mulder said and she hummed in response. 

“Maybe park around back. Speak to the sheriff first.” 

“Good idea,” he agreed and continued to the back of the station, parking across the street and walking towards the steel gray back door. 

“Sheriff?” Mulder said, his phone to his ear. “We’re at the back door. Okay. Yeah. Bye.” 

“We demand answers! We want to know what’s happening!” came a voice from the other side of the building and Scully sighed. 

“I know how they feel, but this… it’s not helping,” she said and Mulder nodded. 

“No, it’s not.” 

The door opened and Ned, the sheriff, stood before them looking extremely tired. 

“Thank you for getting here so quickly,” he said, allowing them to enter and then locking the door behind them. “Sorry if it interrupted any plans you had.” 

“No. It didn’t,” Mulder insisted, following the sheriff down the hall, as Scully thought longingly of her sandwich waiting in the car, having only had the chance to eat a few fries. “What started all of this?” 

“Aside from the lack of new information about the disappearances, I don’t know. They started showing up in small numbers and then it grew. The one with the megaphone is Cassie Quinn, Brent’s sister. It’s mostly women too, which is odd.” 

“Why is that odd?” Scully asked with a frown.  

“Oh, no,” he said with a glance at her. “I didn’t mean it's odd that women are here, but that it’s mostly women. When we’ve had protests, which we’ve had only a time or two, over local issues or whatnot, it’s been a mix of the sexes. Today though, the majority is women.” 

“Maybe it’s because men are disappearing,” Scully mused and the sheriff sighed. 

“Yeah. You could be right,” he said softly and pushed open a door to the main room of the station. 

There were five other people in the room. Lyle nodded at them as he continued his conversation with the only woman of the group; her expression hard and her dark hair pulled back in a no-nonsense bun. 

“The sheriff is not telling us everything. He has to know something. We deserve to know the truth.”

“The truth!” the crowd echoed and Ned groaned as he stood before everyone. 

“Listen up,” he called to his officers and all chatter stopped. “Not all of you have had the pleasure of meeting the FBI agents yet. This is Agent Mulder and Agent Scully. They are here to help find the missing men.” 

“Perfect timing,” a man with a thick red mustache said, gesturing to the crowd outside the doors. “They’re riled up.” 

“They’re missing their family members and they’re scared they may never see them again,” Mulder said, stepping forward as he also gestured outside. “I can’t say that any of you wouldn’t feel the same if you were in their shoes. If you were a civilian who didn’t have access to information the way law enforcement does.” 

“We don’t know anything new,” the woman with the bun said, her stance haughty as she sized Mulder up. “Can’t imagine they want to hear that from us yet again.” 

“Perhaps not, but it’s something,” he said, nodding at her. 

“It’s best to be calm and honest in situations such as these,” Scully said and the woman shook her head with a scornful expression. “I know you all know that, but when tempers rise and words are used as weapons, it can be like a powder keg waiting to explode.” 

“So what do you suggest?” asked the mustached man. 

“Officer… 

“Detective Plewett,” he said, smiling as he nodded at Scully. 

“Detective. Thank you. Detective Plewett, my suggestion is to hear them out, calmly and rationally-”

“Oh, if only we’d thought of that,” the woman interrupted, staring at Scully, her dark eyes cold. “You just solved all of our problems.” 

“Rosa,” Ned said warningly. 

“Sorry, Chief. I suppose I should be thankful that a federal agent is here to inform us of the best way to speak to people. I guess we missed that in our training and just being a human living our life. We may not be from the “big city,” Agent, but we know how to speak to individuals. We aren’t simple,” Rosa said, still staring at Scully. 

“Considering the fact that you’re still in here and not out there speaking to them, are you sure about that?” Scully asked, her tone cold as she took a step toward Rosa. 

“Excuse me? Who gave you the right?” Rosa asked, also stepping forward, Lyle getting in front of her to stop from going further. “Who gave you the right to come here and tell me how to do my job?” 

“Scully,” Mulder said quietly, tugging at the back of her coat, but she waved him away, still staring at Rosa. 

“We had stopped for lunch when your chief called and asked for our assistance. We did not phone him, he phoned us. You got that?” Scully asked, her blood boiling with anger at this woman and her questions. “We’re here to help, but if you think the six of you have this under control, along with assisting any other emergencies or needs that may arise in the area, I have food waiting for me in the car. I leave the decision to you.” 

They stared one another down and everyone seemed to be holding their breath as they waited, the crowd outside chanting once again, their volume growing. 

“Rosa,” Ned said, and she looked at him, her chest rising and falling. “Detective Nuñez.” His eyes widened as he shook his head. “This is not a difficult decision, but it seems that it is for you. You can leave.” 

“Chief-” 

“Detective.” 

“No, I don’t want to leave.” 

“Then you’ll apologize-”

“Not necessary,” Scully said, staring at the detective. “My concern is for the group gathered outside. If Detective Nuñez wants to help in the way I’ve specified, then we’re good. No apology needed. If not, then…” 

She shrugged and looked back at Mulder, raising her eyebrows at him. He nodded and she turned her attention to Detective Plewett. “We could use your help and from anyone else who is willing to do so.” 

“Whatever you need,” he said with a nod and she looked at the other men who also nodded. 

Glancing back at Detective Nuñez, she waited and finally she nodded curtly one time. 

“Good. Now, we will go out as a group, spreading out in a line. Sheriff Walker, Agent Mulder, and I will take point. They will want to hear from us, once they learn we are federal agents.” She looked at Detective Nuñez again and she let out a deep breath as she nodded. “We will need your help to keep the crowd calm or we’ll be back to square one.” 

“Exactly as Agent Scully said,” the sheriff said, looking at each of them in turn and waiting for them to nod in the affirmative. “We will go out and I will introduce them, fielding questions to them, but not allowing them to be overwhelmed and spoken over by the crowd. Understood?” 

“Yes, Chief,” they answered in unison. 

“Good. Okay. Let’s go speak to them.” 

He glanced at Scully and extended his arm, telling her to go ahead of him. She smiled tightly and walked past him, heading in the direction of the door. 

“So much for making nice with the locals,” Mulder murmured as he fell in step beside her. She glanced up at him and he cleared his throat, obviously seeing the anger she was feeling. “After we do this, I’m gonna see if they have a vending machine. Get you some candy or something.” 

“Mulder,” she warned, her tone harsh. 

“Simply trying to say that we missed lunch and I think… maybe your blood sugar might be a bit low?” 

“Because I got upset at another woman who was being rude? I should have let that slide because if not, my legitimately understandable reaction must be from a result of low blood sugar, not her testing my patience?” 

“Whoa,” he said, halting his steps and reaching out to lightly touch her arm. “That was not where I was going with my thoughts. Not for any reason.” 

“Okay,” she said shortly, attempting to take a step, but he stopped her. 

“But, you had said you were hungry after the hike this morning, we didn’t eat more than a handful of fries each and now…” He gestured to the loud crowd beyond the door. “Now we will be dealing with this and the aftermath of it.” 

“And?” she asked, sighing as she shook her head. “I really don’t have time for this-”

“And this quick trigger reaction, is not you. Unless you're rightfully upset or… you’re hungry. Or both.” He smiled softly and she stared at him as she drew in a breath. 

And then another. And then one more. 

“I know you, Scully. We’ll do this and then I’ll find you something sweet, okay?” He smiled again and she let out a deep breath. 

“Saline IV?” she asked quietly and he chuckled. 

“Or at the very least a Coke,” he replied, squeezing her arm gently. 

“Okay,” she agreed with a nod. “A Coke sounds good.” 

“Alright. Let’s get through this and I’ll get you that Coke. Ready?” 

She nodded again and they continued to the door, pushing it open and stepping into the afternoon sun, the air cold around them.

Chapter Text

“If you quiet down, we can have a conversation,” Sheriff Walker said, his voice raised as he held his hands up. “If you can’t, then we’re going to have a problem.” 

The crowd looked at one another and began to quiet down, though murmuring still occurred. 

“That’s better,” the sheriff said and he nodded as he looked at Mulder. “I know that you all have questions and the answers that I could give you will not be sufficient-”

“We want the truth!” Cassie Quinn shouted, the megaphone hanging by her side, the crowd agreeing with her. 

“I know that you do,” the sheriff said, raising his voice again. “And I have been honest with you all since the beginning of this investigation. I don’t know what happened to those men. I also don’t know where they are. I don’t understand why one of them was returned, and the others are still missing. There are a lot of unknowns, and we, the officers and detectives, are doing all we can to find them.” 

“It’s not good enough,” Ashley Harvey said, her voice shaking. “That other guy came back.” 

“I know, Ashley,” he said softly and she started to cry. An older woman put her arm around her and shook her head at the sheriff. “We’re looking, doing all we can, but I know it’s not enough for those worried about their loved ones. So, we’ve asked for help from the FBI.”

“FBI?” the crowd murmured and the sheriff nodded. 

“These are Agents Mulder and Scully and they have come to offer their help.” He gestured to Mulder who stepped beside him, nodding to him and then the crowd. 

“Like the sheriff said, I’m Agent Mulder and this is my partner Agent Scully. We’re familiar with the case of the disappearances. We’ve visited locations around town and also with Peter, the man who has been returned.” He looked at Scully and she nodded imperceptibly. “There are things we haven’t done yet, however, and that is to speak to more of you to gain a better understanding.” 

“We’ve all given statements,” Cassie said, crossing her arms. “They were quite detailed.” 

“They were,” he agreed. “But often, a memory or some information may be triggered as a convenience is taking place. It can be something small that makes all the difference.” 

“Talking won’t do anything. We need to be searching,” Cassie said, shaking her head. 

“Where do you feel we need to be looking?” Mulder asked her and she exhaled as she looked at the others around her. 

“The forest. On the edge of the cemetery,” she said as the crowd murmured its agreement. 

“Why?” he asked, a thrill of excitement going through him. 

“Because… that has to be where they are. They couldn’t have just disappeared and…” She stopped talking, her lip quivering. “We’ve all heard stories about the forest. We’ve heard sounds as we’ve had gatherings-”

“Parties,” Detective Nuñez said from behind Mulder. Cassie looked at her and exhaled loudly. 

“Parties,” Cassie agreed, raising her eyebrows at the detective. 

“You’re saying you think the forest is haunted?” Mulder asked Cassie. 

“I… I wouldn’t say haunted, but…” She looked at the other people around her and they nodded. “There is something to it.” 

“But it’s been searched,” Scully stated and Mulder turned his head to look at her. “Have you not all been involved in the search?” 

“Yes, we have. It’s just… have you been out there? Have you seen the forest?” 

“I have,” Scully said with a nod. 

“And you didn’t feel anything?” 

“No. I didn’t.” 

“Well, maybe you weren’t there long enough.” 

“Or maybe it’s not haunted, or whatever you may think. Perhaps because of the fact that you’ve heard stories about it all your life, you have preconceived notions that there is something living in the forest.” 

“Whatever’s in there,” Cassie said, shaking her head, her eyes angry. “It’s not alive. It’s…” 

“Show me,” Mulder said, looking at Cassie as he heard Scully sigh. “Anyone who wants to, come with us and we’ll search the forest.” 

He saw some people look uncomfortable, but the majority of them nodded and he smiled, the thrill of excitement growing. 

___________

“You’ve been quiet,” he said to Scully as they drove to the cemetery for the agreed upon meeting time, having quickly warmed up and eaten their lunch, sharing a Coke between them. “The food didn’t help?” 

“Mulder,” she said quietly and shook her head. 

“Scully-”

“Please, just…” She held up her hand and sighed. “While I do not agree with the idea of a spirit residing within a forest, people have gone missing. Men have gone missing. From the exact location to which we are heading. I can’t say I’m overjoyed at the thought of walking into the forest.” 

“I think we’ll be okay.” 

“Just like every other time you thought things would be fine and something happened?” she asked, looking at him as she drew in a deep breath. “You’ve already experienced something. I don’t want you… minimal injuries, remember?” 

“I do,” he said with a smile and a nod. “I promise I won’t do anything crazy.” 

“Ha!” she said, turning her head to look out the window. “I don’t think you could ever promise me that. Jump on any trains recently?” 

“No. Not recently.” 

“Break into any government facilities?” 

“Not for nearly a year, I don’t think. I mean, I did steal some mail from Padgett, but it helped to peg him as the killer… sort of. So does that count?” He grinned as he pulled up to a stoplight and watched her sigh as she shook her head. 

“It’s probably the safest crime you’ve committed.” She looked at him again and gave him a small smile. “Let’s keep it that kind of minimal tonight, okay?” 

“I can do that,” he said and she hummed in a disbelieving tone. He laughed quietly as the light turned green and they made a left towards the cemetery. 

There were no other cars or people yet, or so they thought as they stepped out and walked through the grass toward Sarah’s headstone, though they had not discussed it ahead of time. 

“What?” Scully said, looking down onto the grass in front of the headstone, which was now covered in white flowers in a loose spiral shape, each one laid perfectly. 

“Uh, who?” Mulder said, looking around and seeing something in the distance, the afternoon sun almost blinding as he squinted. “What is that over there?” 

“Where?” 

“There,” he said, touching her shoulder and turning her toward the movement behind them. “Just beyond the cemetery. Do you see it?” 

“Maybe some of the group? They got here ahead of us?” she said and he shook his head. 

“Moving like that? I don’t think so,” he stated, watching the people moving. “It looks like… like they’re dancing. Or swaying?” He took a step toward them and Scully stopped him. “What?” 

“What if… what if it’s a private moment? Maybe a… maybe something they do when they visit the cemetery? Maybe it’s a religious thing. You don’t need to be bothering them.” 

“You don’t need to be scared,” he said, giving her a lopsided grin. 

“I’m not scared, asshole,” she said hotly and he laughed. “I just want you to think before you act.” 

“This place is about to be crawling with people. I’m sure they’d appreciate a heads up about that, don’t you?” He raised his eyebrows and she sighed as she fell in step beside him and walked through the tall grass. 

Having to watch intently on where to step, he only glanced up a few times and as they drew nearer, he stopped walking and turned his head to look at the forest. 

“What is it?” Scully asked as she caught up, a couple of steps behind him, breathing heavily. “Did you see something?” 

“Oh yeah,” he said with a nod and she looked where he was facing. “No. Look towards the people.” 

“The people… why? What? Oh… oh my God. It’s…” 

“A bunch of naked women,” he said with a nod. 

“I think… yeah… one of them is Fauna.” 

“What?” he asked, glancing over again before quickly looking away. “So it is. Ummm…” 

“Maybe you should wait here?” she said and he could hear a smile in her voice. 

“Yeah,” he said, completely turning his back on the group of naked women dancing in a wide circle. 

“I mean if you’re scared,” she said and he glared at her before she walked away, laughing softly. 

He heard her greeting them, sounds of surprise and laughter, then voices as they began to come closer. 

Turning around, his eyes bugged open before he turned around again, his cheeks burning. 

Not one of them, save for Scully, was dressed in anything aside from black rain boots. They were walking toward him, caring not one whit about their state of undress. 

“Agent Mulder, it’s nice to see you again,” Fauna said, laughter bubbling out. “Or the back of you, anyway.” 

“Hello again, Fauna,” he said, keeping his eyes straight ahead as they began to walk back towards the cemetery. “Sorry to interrupt your…” 

“Our coven,” Fauna said and the women laughed as they agreed. 

“Your coven?” he asked, turning to look at her and stopping halfway as he saw a flash of naked skin. 

“Oh yes,” Fauna stated. “A group of like-minded women-”

“Who love women,” one of Fauna’s companions interjected and they all cheered. 

“Exactly. Like-minded, middle aged women, who love women and found that creating a coven would be as close to a life of magic as we would ever have.” 

“Well that’s…” he said. 

“Fucking fantastic,” another companion said as she stepped ahead of him, spun in a circle, and then kept walking, right in his eyeline. “Have you ever danced completely naked beside a cemetery?” 

“Danced? No,” he said, looking down at his feet in the grass. 

“Just, uh… frolicked,” Scully said in a teasing tone to his right and when he turned to look at her, he saw Fauna and two other women before he quickly looked away. 

“Ah, look at him,” one of the women said with a chuckle. “The poor man doesn’t know where to look. Bless him.” 

“Just wasn’t what I was expecting when we arrived.” 

“Eight naked, dancing lesbians celebrating the life of Sarah Blackwell as we do every month?” the same woman asked and his eyes widened as he continued looking at his feet. “Can one ever truly prepare for that?” 

“Sure. Come over on Saturday and bring some wine. There I prepared for it,” Fauna said and they all cackled.

They had reached the cemetery and only once there, did he see that their clothes had been left in an faded old red wagon two rows down from Sarah’s headstone. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said, continuing towards the car. 

“Slow down,” Scully said, giggling softly as she took a hold of his arm. “Your legs are longer than mine.” 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” 

“Yes. Very much,” she replied, laughing again. 

“Yeah, well,” he said as they reached the car and he leaned against the side of it with a sigh and she stood in front of him with a smile. “That was a lot of flesh.” 

“Coming from a man with an extensive video collection, I’d wager you’ve seen more flesh there than here tonight.” 

“Yeah, well,” he said with a grin. “Different viewing settings, I suppose. Privately versus publicly.” 

“Hmm,” Scully hummed, headlights shining across them faintly as a car pulled in and parked beside them. 

“Hope the coven is decent, there are about to be a lot more people gathering here.” 

“I’ll go see. Tell them you’re missing them.” 

“Shut up,” he laughed and she smiled as she walked away and he went to welcome the people in the car. 

Fifteen minutes later, the group of once again mostly women, the sheriff, Detectives Nuñez and Plewett, the coven of now fully dressed women, and Scully stood at the edge of the cemetery in a long line. Flashlights in hand, or in backpacks, Mulder gave the signal and they stepped into the forest. 

It was not quiet, the group too large to be completely silent, but it was quieter as the trees were thick. Looking behind him, he saw the late afternoon sun shining brighter outside of the forest and he waited to see if he felt anything this time. 

“It’s different,” Fauna said beside him, breaking into his thoughts. He looked at her and she shook her head. “I’ve been in this forest hundreds of times and I’ve never felt this way before.” 

“In a bad way or a good way?” he asked, the forest feeling different for him too. 

“Neither. Just… not the same. I don’t think you’ll find what you’re searching for… not tonight anyway.”

“Why?” 

She put her hand out and wiggled her fingers slowly, just as Peter had done at the hospital and just as he himself felt like doing with her now, but he refrained. Twice more she did it and then she dropped her hand. 

“It’s not here.” 

“What isn’t?” he asked, vaguely aware that the others had moved on and they were the only ones left behind. 

“The feeling. The calm. For lack of a better word… the magic. It’s not here.”

“It’s never felt this way?” 

“No. Not once. Maybe… maybe it’s too many people and she’s gone into hiding.” 

“You mean Sarah?” 

“I do. I told you that I felt her presence years ago. And I continue to feel it whenever I’m here. Never has it felt bad, only calm. But right now…” She looked around and shook her head. “I don’t know where she is, but she’s not here. Not right now...” 

Chapter Text

“I feel like Harriet is at home gloating right now,” Mulder said as they drove into their parking space at the motel and snow began to fall gently onto the windshield. “Well, maybe not gloating, but happy that she was right about the weather and that you have a coat to keep you from freezing.” 

“Yeah,” Scully said, nodding with a smile as she watched the snow falling. 

“You wanna order a pizza? Decompress?” he asked, turning the car off and looking at her. 

“That sounds good. But, I want to take a shower first and warm up a bit. Then I’ll be over.” He nodded and they got out. 

“Hmm…” she said, tilting her head back to let the snow hit her face. “I’m glad we’re here and not in the forest with the snow falling. Considering that it will probably continue through the night, I’d much rather be someplace with shelter.” 

“You act as though you’ve spent cold and snowy nights in forests before.” 

She lifted her head and stared at him, seeing snow in his hair and on his jacket. Reaching out without really thinking, she brushed her hand into his hair, loosening the snow. He stood still, smiling slowly as he looked down at her. 

“Sorry,” she said, dropping her hand down. 

“It’s okay,” he said quietly as she stepped back. “I promise that it’s snow, not dandruff.” 

“Mulder,” she murmured, shaking her head with a chuckle. “Go order that pizza, warm up your room, straighten up that table so we have a space to eat, and I’ll be over soon, after I enjoy the snow for a moment, that is.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted and she shook her head as he walked into his room and shut the door. 

Smiling, she put her hand out and watched the snowflakes landing silently, lighter than air. 

“Agent Scully?” 

She looked up and saw Darcy walking toward her bundled against the cold, a concerned expression on her face. 

“Hello, Darcy.” 

“I’m afraid I have some bad news. I was actually just coming to leave you a note to tell you to come down to the office, but now you’re here.” 

“Oh, is it about the heater?” 

“I’m afraid so.” 

“Let me hear it,” Scully said with a sigh. 

Ten minutes later, she had everything packed as she shivered in the barely warm room. 

The heater had been unable to be fixed, a new one ordered but not arriving for at least a week. A portable radiator had been brought in, but was hardly big enough to heat the room. 

Checking to be sure she had everything, she picked up her bag and left the room.  

Knocking on Mulder’s door, she watched the snow falling as she waited for him to answer. 

“That was fast,” he said, opening the door. “Oh… maybe not.” 

“The heater is completely broken. Needs to be replaced.” 

“And so you’re looking for a warm place to rest for the night?” 

“No. I need to get my toiletries and other things I left in here, plus the car keys. I found a motel a couple of miles from here. So I’ll head over there and then pick you up in the morning.” 

“Wait. What? What motel? No. You don’t need to do that. We can…” 

He stopped speaking when she smiled, unable to stop herself. 

“You think you’re funny?” he asked, moving out of the way to let her inside.

“No. I know I am,” she said, stepping inside and setting her bag down on the bed. “It’s fun watching you get flustered.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, closing the door. “Go ahead and laugh. You’ll change your tune soon.” 

“Nah. I’m in the room now. I have the upper hand.” 

“Hmm,” he hummed with a smile. “I ran into a problem of my own.”

“What’s that?” 

“The pizza place doesn’t deliver. So, I’m going to leave now and wait for it to be ready.” 

“Perfect. I’ll stay and take a shower and…” She looked at the still messy table and then back at him. “… clean up the table. Seeing how you didn’t do it.”

“There’s that change to your tune I was talking about,” he said, snapping his fingers and pointing at her. “I knew it would come around.” 

“Whatever,” she said, smiling as she unzipped her bag and took out her pajamas and his sweatshirt that she had worn last night. “You want to wear this when you go?” 

“No. I got my coat. It’s yours if you want to wear it again.”

“Thanks,” she said, setting it onto the bed. 

“Okay, I’ll go and be back soon.” 

When he had gone, she filled one of the dresser drawers with clothes and then hung up her suits, setting her bag beside his in the closet. Taking her pajamas, socks, underwear, and his sweatshirt into the bathroom, she undressed and took a shower. 

Dressed, her hair wrapped up in a towel, she put her dirty clothes in one of the plastic bags she always brought with her, and then cleared the table a bit. 

The door opened and Mulder walked in carrying the pizza along with two bottles of water, his coat and hair once again flecked with snow. 

“Seems like everyone had the same idea we did. It was pretty crowded, so it took some extra time.” 

“It smells good,” she said, sitting down and taking the bottles of water from him. 

They ate and discussed the case, stating their disappointment when they had not found any evidence of any of the men or gained any insight as to where they might be. 

“Helped with the town morale, though,” Scully said. “I think they saw that the sheriff and others haven’t been shirking their responsibilities.” 

“Yeah. Is that what you were talking to Detective Nuñez about?” 

“Somewhat. She apologized for today at the station and then we talked about the case and what she thought had happened to the men.” 

“What did she think?” 

“She didn’t know, what with the lack of information available. But she never mentioned magic or a spirit in the forest.” 

“Because you weren’t with a true believer, like Fauna,” he said and she laughed. 

“A believer in dancing naked by a cemetery?” 

“Scully,” he warned and she laughed again. 

Their pizza finished, the trash thrown away in an outside bin, she stood in the doorway and watched the snow falling, the ground covered with a very light dusting. 

“I think I prefer rain,” Mulder said as he came to stand beside her. “Snow is nice, but the sound of rain is comforting.” 

“Yeah,” she agreed, sighing as the snow began to fall a little faster and she closed the door. “You need anything out of the bathroom before I go in there?”

“No. Go ahead.” 

Her nighttime routine done, she got into bed and sighed. Hearing the shower start running, she closed her eyes, her body growing heavier and heavier with sleep.

Startling awake, her heart racing, she found that the room was now dark. She heard the soft murmur of a baseball game and then Mulder breathing beside her. 

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and she nodded as she drew in deep breaths. 

“I’m okay. I didn’t know I’d fallen asleep.” 

“Hmm. Bad dream?” 

“I…” 

“Scully?” 

“Yeah… no. I’m okay.” 

“You sure?” 

Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered her dream. 

The fear she had felt. The red dress she wore as Mulder was being pulled from her grasp. The men holding her back as she had screamed his name, fear filling her heart as she stared at his face and saw the moment of acceptance in his eyes. 

“No!” she had screamed, trying desperately to get to him. “Don’t hurt him! It was me. Take me instead.” 

“Be quiet, Dana,” he had said, his hands secured behind him with thick rope. “Don’t listen to her. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.” 

“I do know. It was me! Take me and leave him in peace. He’s…” 

“She did nothing wrong. Every bit of it was me. Leave her alone.” 

“No. Please no.” 

The men had let go of her and she ran to him, clinging to him and crying. 

“You didn’t do what they accused you of. You have to tell them.” 

“No. I would rather die if it meant that you were safe.” 

“But I need you. Please.” 

“And I you. But I am not growing a life inside of me, my love. I would die a thousand deaths for you and our child.” 

He had pressed his forehead to hers and she had tried to stop crying, not wanting the last thing he saw to be her sadness. 

Again they had been separated and she stood resolute as he had been led to the gallows, her eyes on his as the rope had been slipped around his neck. 

“I love you,” he had said. “In this life and every other one we will share.” 

“I love you too,” she had said, placing a hand on her belly and stretching a hand out to him. “We both love you.” 

“Until the end of time,” he had said and she nodded. 

“Forever and always.” 

The executioner had placed his hands on the lever and she had gasped, every fiber of her being on fire. The wood had creaked and she had held her breath, the child within her moving, as the executioner pushed the lever with all his might… 

“Scully? Was it a bad dream or-”

She turned over quickly and dove into his arms, crying as she held onto him. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here,” he said, holding her close and murmuring into her hair. 

“Mulder,” she cried, as she recalled the rich scent of earth, the warmth of the sun, and the sound of the wood creaking as her heart broke into millions of pieces. 

Chapter Text

Mulder sat at the table, staring at the bathroom door, waiting for Scully to finish getting ready, the hair dryer currently blowing mutedly. He ran a hand across his mouth as he sighed. 

Last night she had woken from a bad dream, crying in his arms as he held her, trying to soothe her. She had shaken her head against his chest, crying harder when he had asked if she wanted to talk about it. 

Her sleep after that had been fitful, murmuring his name and whimpering. He had tried to help calm her by gently tracing the worry lines that had ceased her forehead. 

His own sleep had then been patchy as he had stirred nearly every time she had moved, wanting to make sure she was okay. When he had woken, early sunlight shining through the gap in the curtains, he had felt as though he had not slept. 

Scully had still been sleeping, a tight grip on his shirt and her head on his shoulder. He had no idea what she had dreamed about. But if it had led to her clinging to him all night, it had to have been bad. Scully held her emotions close to the vest and it took quite a bit to break her down and leave her vulnerable. 

Sighing, he realized he desperately needed to use the bathroom. Attempting to loosen her hand, she had stirred and hummed, shifting impossibly closer to him. Trying again, she had moved with a whimper and he had stopped. 

She had then drawn in a deep breath, pressing closer to him for a few seconds and then let go of his shirt as she had pulled back and he had frozen, not wanting to startle her. 

Rising up, she had stared at him, breathing hard before she had left the bed, looking back at him as she stepped into the bathroom. 

Waiting until he had heard the sink running, he had then gotten up. Knowing she would be in there for a while, he had taken both room keys and quietly left to use her bathroom next door. 

Now, he sat waiting to use the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for the day. The hair dryer stopped and he sat up straighter. 

The door opened and she met his eyes briefly as she let out a deep breath and walked into the room; hair and makeup done, but still wearing her pajamas and his sweatshirt. 

“Sorry for taking a long time.” 

“You didn’t.” 

“Well…” 

“Scully-”

“You need to get ready and I need to get dressed,” she said, not looking at him. 

“Scully-” he tried again, standing to his feet and drawing her attention. 

“It was just a bad dream. I don’t… it’s not…” 

“Hey…you’re right. We need to get ready. How about we discuss this later? Maybe get some coffee first?” he suggested with a forced smile and she let out a breath. “Okay. I’ll be out in a few minutes.” 

“You were accused of something. A crime of some kind,” she said quietly as he passed her, pausing before the bathroom doorway. 

“What?” he asked, turning to look at her. 

“In my dream. You were… it was me they wanted, the one who deserved the punishment, but you told them it was you,” she said, staring at the floor and shaking her head. “They took you and… led you to the gallows.” 

“Gallows?” he asked, frowning and taking a step closer to her. 

“Yeah,” she whispered with a nod. 

“What happened?” 

“I woke up before I saw, but…” she said, shrugging slightly and he took another step closer. “I’m sure it’s because of the things we’ve been discussing and what I’ve been thinking about the past couple of days, imagining how life would have been over two hundred years ago. It just felt so real.” 

She glanced at him quickly and then looked away, squaring her shoulders and nodding. 

“It was irrational to be so upset, as it was just a dream, but I-”

“Scully,” he said, close enough now to take her hand and squeeze it gently. “Considering where we are, all we’ve done and heard, it’s understandable that you would have dreams of that nature. And that they would feel quite vivid.” 

“I know that,” she said, trying to pull her hand away, not meeting his eyes. 

“But,” he continued, holding tighter to her hand and waiting for her to look at him. When she did, he saw tears shining in them and what he was going to say no longer seemed important. “Scully…” 

He stepped closer and pulled her to him, closing his eyes as she remained stiff in his arms until finally she wrapped her arms around him. 

They did not speak as they stood together, her occasional sniffling the only sound in the room for a few moments. 

“It was just a dream,” she repeated, sniffling once again. 

“Hmm,” he hummed, his lips pressed to the top of her head. 

“But I couldn’t save you. I couldn’t…” She sobbed in a breath and he sighed deeply. “They wouldn’t listen… you… you died for me.” He held her tighter as she cried softly. “I felt powerless to do anything… just as I had when… when I couldn’t find you. I was so worried that you…” She cried again and he sighed. 

He did not remember much about being gone, aside from the dreamlike world he had been forced into. A life that went by far too fast, none of it making much sense. 

But then Scully had been there, the person he had missed the most, speaking truths and waking him up. She had saved him, just as she always had, showing up just when he needed her. 

“It was just a dream,” he said to her, speaking softly, rubbing her back. “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t also real.” 

“Mulder,” she said, shaking her head. 

“The worry you felt then, that was very real. Perhaps it’s been lingering, even though everything was fine.” 

“Fine,” she scoffed. “Your head was cut open and operated on. That’s not fine.” 

“No. That was not fine,” he agreed with a small smile. “But I am.” 

He pulled back and she looked up at him with wet eyes, her mascara smeared slightly. He placed his hand on her cheek and gently ran his thumb under her eye to wipe it away. 

“It’s a mess isn’t it?” she asked, closing her eyes and exhaling deeply. 

“No.”

“Liar,” she breathed, shaking her head and opening her eyes. He smiled as he ran his thumb under her eye again, her lashes wet. 

“I’m not lying. It’s not a mess. Although, a touch up may be in order,” he said softly and she exhaled a short laugh through her nose. 

“But you need to get ready,” she whispered and he shook his head with a shrug. 

“We can share the space again.” She nodded, but neither of them moved. 

With a sigh, he slid his hand down to her neck, stroking his thumb along her jaw. She stared up at him and he leaned forward, pressing a long gentle kiss to her forehead and then a short one to her temple. She hummed as she leaned into him and he smiled against her skin. 

He pulled back and looked at her as she inhaled and exhaled, her fingernails lightly scratching his sides as she released her hold on him. 

“You said something a few minutes ago about coffee?” she asked, changing the subject as she wiped under her eyes and licked her lips. 

“Yeah. Coffee sounds great.” 

They shared the bathroom and as she left to get dressed, she grasped his hand, and met his eyes with a nod. He squeezed back before she shut the door behind her, affording her a few moments of privacy. 

Ready aside from his shoes, he sat on the end of the bed, lacing his boots, when her phone rang and she picked it up with a frown. 

“Scully. Sheriff Walker, is everything okay?” Her eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened as she looked at Mulder. “When? Where did they…? Okay. Yeah, we’ll be right there. Bye.”

“What?” he asked, standing to his feet. 

“Trevor Jones was found this morning on the road leading out of the cemetery.” 

“Alive?” 

“Yes.”

They stared at one another and he nodded, picking up the keys and gesturing to the door. 

“Let’s go.” 

Chapter Text

Two police cars and four officers were at the scene when Mulder parked the car at the end of the road leading to the cemetery.

Detective Plewett nodded at them as they joined the sheriff who was speaking to a middle aged man wearing a buttoned cream colored henley under a dark blue flannel shirt with a bright orange reflective vest over it, jeans, and dirty, stained work boots.

“Oh good, you’re here. Agents, this is Jesse Ryder. Mister Ryder, these are Agents Scully and Mulder. He’s the one who found Trevor.” 

“Found makes it sound like I was out looking for him,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “I wasn’t, not really.” 

“But you found him nonetheless, of which his family will be very appreciative. Could you tell us what happened?” Mulder asked and Jesse nodded. 

“My job is about three miles down the road and I drive past here every day on my way. Usually, I pay it no attention. I know people have parties sometimes, but again, it’s not really my business. But since those men disappeared and especially since that one came back, I’ve paid more attention as I drive by. Sometimes, I even drive in to see…” He shrugged and exhaled. “I don’t know exactly, but I'll take a quick look on my way to work.” 

“Did you do that the day that Peter Blake returned?” Scully asked and he shook his head. 

“No, ma’am, not that day. I was running late and I didn’t have time.” 

“How was Trevor when you found him?” Mulder asked and Jesse looked to his right and pointed. 

“He was standing right there, just staring straight ahead. I thought at first it was a kid from one of the parties, too hungover to think properly. But then when I rolled the window down and called out to him, he looked at me, I knew who he was.” 

“Without him telling you?” 

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “A week after the first two men went missing, Trevor’s sister came by my house, asking if I’d seen him and to keep an eye out when I said I hadn’t. She gave me a flier and I’ve had it hanging on my fridge ever since. I’ve seen it every day for the past three weeks, I know what he looks like. Except…” 

“Except what?” Scully asked and Jesse shook his head. 

“He looked different. Thinner for one thing. A lot thinner and pale.” 

“He did?” Mulder asked, looking at Scully quickly and she frowned slightly thinking of Peter who bore hardly any signs of having been missing for a month. 

“Yeah. It was a shock to see him at all, but… and I know he’d been missing for a while, but still it was a big change. Like he was a completely different person or something.” 

“Did he say anything to you? Say where he’d been?” 

“No. Nothing like that.” 

“But he was… conscious? Aware of his surroundings?” 

Jesse sighed and shook his head. 

“I don’t think that’s the way I would describe him.” 

“Okay,” Mulder said, his jaw clenching as he drew in a breath through his nose. “Could you tell us exactly what happened, please? From the beginning one more time.”

“Like I said, I was driving down the road here and I saw him there. Just there,” he said, pointing again. “I pulled over and stared at him, honestly ready to tell him off for being there when men had been disappearing and he should have had more sense. Then when I saw his face, I froze as I realized it was him. I called 911 asking for the police and an ambulance.” 

“And he didn’t speak to you?”

“Not exactly a conversation, no.” 

“Was he dressed?” Scully asked and they all looked at her. “It’s been a month, it wouldn’t be unlikely that he wasn’t.” 

“No, ma’am, he was dressed. But the clothes he wore were way wrong for this time of year. He was in late summer type clothes. Khaki shorts, short sleeve shirt, no jacket, and only socks.” 

“No shoes,” Mulder murmured, frowning as he looked down at the ground still covered in a light covering of snow and then down the length of the road. 

“What did he say to you?” Scully asked. 

“He kept mumbling names, I think. Cassia, Valeriana, Philip Ulmaria… and some others I didn’t catch.” 

“Filipendula ulmaria?” Scully asked, her eyebrows raised.

“Maybe,” Jesse said with a shrug. “I apologize ma’am, but I’d never heard those words.” 

“It’s Latin. They’re the name of herbs,” she said, looking at Mulder. “Used in different medicines. For sedation, fatigue, infection or fevers, respectively.” 

He stared at her, understanding what she was implying, and nodded as he reached into his pocket. Taking out the car keys, he handed them to her. 

“What?” she asked, frowning as she looked at the keys. 

“You need to go to the hospital, see if you can talk to Trevor,” he said. “Sheriff, we need to search this area again. See if there’s not a… a cabin, a bunker… something that we missed yesterday. There has to be a connection somewhere.” 

“I got three guys here, Agent Mulder. It’s not enough to cover it. Last night we had-”

“More people. We need more people. I agree,” Mulder said, looking around and nodding. “Jesse, if you’re able to stay, please don’t leave. Sheriff, I think it might be time to make a few phone calls.” 

___________________

“Agent Scully,” Doctor Huron said with a smile as he walked toward her, medical charts under one arm, extending his hand. “Pleased to see you again, especially under these circumstances.” 

“You’ve seen Trevor then?” she asked, shaking his hand. 

“I have. I treated him myself as my curiosity got the better of me to see if his injuries and treatment resembled Peter’s.”

“And did they?” she asked as he led her into an empty break room. Picking up a half full coffee pot, he gestured to it and she shook her head. “No thank you.” 

“Probably for the best. I can’t say for sure how long it’s been here,” he said, pouring himself a cup anyway and sighing as he replaced the pot. “Trevor is unexplainably thinner than when he went missing.” 

“Not so much, considering the time frame,” she said as he added some powdered cream and stirred it with a thin black stir straw. 

“That is true, but compared to Peter, it’s night and day,” he said as he sat down and she sat next to him. 

“You have his chart?” 

“Yes, but there’s not much to know right now, we’re still waiting on the test results. He was dehydrated, expectedly. Some bruising. Cold to the touch, which is the opposite of Peter as he was warm, a fever of a hundred and three, blood pressure unstable...” 

“Was that after he’d been here awhile?” 

“No, not all of it. But, Trevor… he was almost hypothermic. So odd.” 

“May I see his chart?” she asked, and he nodded, handing it to her. 

She read through the chart, humming at things that drew her eye. 

“The bruising pattern on his back is opposite of Peter’s as well, nearly identically opposite,” she said, remembering the placement on Peter. “His weight, temperature, bruising… Did he speak to you?” 

“Not exactly. Not... not like a conversation.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He was mumbling names,” he said, shaking his head and she drew in a deep breath. “But, not people’s names. It was the Latin names of-”

“Medicinal herbs,” she said, finishing his sentence. 

“How did you know that?” he asked quietly. 

“The man who found him said the same thing.” 

“Why would he be saying that?” 

“I don’t know,” Scully said, continuing to look at Trevor’s file. “Were there any outlying pre-existing health problems that you could see without any testing?” 

“Like physical deformities or something brought on by a disease?” 

“Something like that yeah,” she said, closing the file and looking at him. 

“No. Other than the very obvious weight loss and dehydration, he seemed in good health.” 

“Yeah,” she whispered and then something occurred to her. Something crazy. 

Spooky even. 

“Peter, with the prognosis of roughly six weeks to live, disappeared for four of them.” 

“Right.” 

“Yet he came back in more than perfect health, no sign whatsoever of the cancer in his body.” 

“Right,” Doctor Huron said again with a nod. 

“Trevor, on the outside at least, was not ill and facing the end of his numbered days.” 

“Okay. I think I’m following,” he said with a confused smile. 

“What if, and believe me, I understand how this will sound, but what if Trevor was taken along with Peter because he could… because there was something in him that could be used to help Peter? What if…” She sighed, knowing what the doctor would say. “… what if Trevor unwillingly and unknowingly helped to save Peter’s life, leaving Peter robust and healthy and Trevor thin and possibly with a lingering illness?” 

Doctor Huron stared at her and then stood up, pacing in front of the coffeemaker. 

“Are you… are you suggesting that you think a… a doctor is responsible for their disappearances?”

“I am. As hard as that is for me to believe, being a doctor myself.”

“A doctor… Someone with a God complex wanting to save people?”

“Or possibly someone who is practicing with some other sinister motive?” 

“But.. a man was healed…” 

“As another suffered.” 

“That’s… the opposite of how a doctor would behave and treat patients.” 

“Precisely,” Scully said, her breathing increasing. 

“I… I need to run more tests,” he said, reaching for Trevor’s file. “It seems impossible, but…” He glanced at her as he hurried to the door, leaving her sitting at the table, staring at the cup of coffee he had not even touched, her thoughts jumbled and troubled. 

Chapter Text

Mulder stood and stretched, his bones popping and muscles protesting from being in his previously crouched position. As he stood and looked at the others around him, his stomach growled and he was shocked to realize that not only had he not eaten breakfast, but it was now pushing far past lunchtime. 

“Well,” he said with a shrug, knowing he could not simply up and leave, he turned to investigate the next headstone, looking for what, he really was not sure. 

Knowing he would never admit it, he secretly hoped that one of the old headstones had been made into an entrance to a secret lab or something equally amazing and yes, terrifying, and he simply needed to figure out which one it could be. He knew it was not possible, but shit, what if it was true and he found it? 

The perfect hiding place was always right in plain sight where no one would suspect anything and an old abandoned cemetery was ripe for the picking. 

“Agent Mulder,” the sheriff called and Mulder stood up with another popping of his knees. 

“Any luck?” Mulder asked and the sheriff shook his head. 

“No. But, uh…” He handed Mulder the metal flip top lunch box he was carrying. “My wife called and asked if I needed anything. She brought me some lunch and I asked her to make something for you too.” 

“Wow, thank you. That was kind of you. Both of you.” 

“Least I could do. Thought you might not have eaten this morning given the early phone call and you’ve been here ever since. So…” He shrugged and Mulder smiled. 

“No, we didn’t eat. I’m sure Scully has by now, but… Thank your wife for me, will you please?” 

“Of course.” He sighed and looked around as he shook his head. “Have you heard how Trevor is doing?” 

“No, not yet,” he said, opening the lunch box and grinning at the sight of the coffee thermos. Taking it out and opening the top, he took a deep inhale and his mouth watered at the scent of coffee. “Scully will call when she knows something. Tests take time, as much as we’d like them to hurry.” He took a sip of coffee and hummed his approval. “That’s good coffee.” 

“Good,” the sheriff said, still looking around. “You really think he was kept here?” 

“Seems likely, considering he disappeared from and then reappeared here,” Mulder said, taking another drink and then wiping his mouth. “Makes it easy for the perpetrator to get away with it if it’s true. Less movement.” 

“Yeah.” The sheriff shook his head again. “It just makes you think. Makes you worry for your own family. The boys especially right now, as it’s only men being targeted. You worry about letting them go out, wondering if they will return. My boys keep telling me I’m being overprotective, but if something happened to them, I’d never forgive myself. You got any kids?” He looked at Mulder and he choked on the coffee. 

“No,” he said, clearing his throat and shaking his head. “No kids.” 

“Are you married?” 

“No. Not married either,” he said with a smile. 

“What about Agent Scully? She married? Any kids?” 

“No,” Mulder said. “She's not married. And uh, no. No kids. She uh… she…” He shook his head again, the familiar feeling of sadness settling in his stomach at the thought of Scully never being able to have children. To have lost that ability entirely. 

“I see,” the sheriff said softly, nodding in understanding. “We struggled when we first got married, for a couple of years actually, and then after we stopped tracking things and being on a schedule…” He shrugged and smiled and Mulder smiled back, but did not feel it. 

Scully’s situation was completely different, but he would not tell the sheriff about it. 

“Well, thanks for the lunch. I appreciate it.” 

“Yeah. Thanks for being here.” 

He nodded and walked across the now wet grass, the snow melting throughout the morning, except in shaded spots where it seemed to cling desperately. 

Mulder turned and found a headstone with a large base and sat down upon it to eat his lunch. 

There was a container of fried chicken, potato salad, a banana, utensils, and a piece of pumpkin pie inside of the lunch box. Grinning, he opened the container of fried chicken first and took a bite, closing his eyes as he chewed. 

His phone rang as he was reaching for the second piece of chicken and he wiped his hands on the napkin that had been included before he answered it. 

“Mulder.” 

“Hey. It’s me,” Scully said with a sigh. 

“Hey. What’s up? You talk to Trevor?” 

“Not yet. They gave him a light sedative when he first got here to calm him down as he was becoming agitated. He’s still sleeping right now.” 

“Okay.” 

“His injuries, Mulder…” 

“Yeah?” 

“All that he is presenting with, it’s the opposite of Peter.” 

“Okay,” he said, reaching for and then opening the container of potato salad. 

“I’m saying they are the exact opposite. Like mirrored to his.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“I don’t know yet. But it’s… it’s weird.” 

“Ohh, how weird?” he asked with a smile, stabbing a potato with a plastic fork. 

“Mulder,” she said, sighing deeply and he knew she was shaking her head. 

“You’re worried,” he said, holding the fork, but not eating the bite. 

“Yeah, I am.” 

“Do you not think he’ll be okay?” 

“No, I do. It’s just… I don’t understand it. Peter came back and the illness that was killing him was gone. It was completely gone. He didn’t look as though he had suffered, in fact it was as though he thrived. Yes, he has superficial wounds, but that’s nothing compared to what Trevor is going through.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean…” He heard a door close and she sighed again, the sound of it echoing slightly. “Trevor is a lot thinner than when he disappeared. Around twenty pounds thinner, according to Harriet. She’s here with Renée and they were taken aback when they saw him. They both cried, with relief yes, but also because they were worried over his change in appearance.” 

“So, what are you thinking?” he asked, setting the fork down and staring at the headstone ahead of him without really seeing it. 

“I… I don’t know, Mulder. It’s so…” 

“What?” 

“How is it possible? Mirrored injuries. One person healthy, one now less than. Trevor repeatedly saying the Latin names of medicines used to treat illnesses. It all feels…” 

“Spooky?” he said with a half smile. 

“For lack of a better word… yes.” 

“Don’t forget to add the cemetery and the creepy forest into the equation,” he teased, again lifting the fork and eating the bite. 

“No. I haven’t forgotten about them,” she said softly and he chewed, swallowing quickly with a frown.

“You okay there, Scully?” he asked and she hummed. 

“Yes. I’m fine,” she said, sounding more like herself. “Are you okay?” 

“Well, you know me,” he said, waving the fork as he looked around, seeing the group of people spread out amongst the grounds. “I do love a spooky cemetery. Especially one that’s off the beaten path.” 

“You’re hoping that you’ll find a secret underground lair beneath one of the headstones, aren’t you? Scooby-Doo style?” she deadpanned and he laughed. 

“One of these days, it will happen and then-” 

“Wait, he is?” Scully said. “Yeah, I’ll be right there. Mulder, did you hear that? Trevor’s awake. I’ll call you back.” 

She disconnected the call before he said goodbye and he sighed as he hung up and then set his phone beside him. 

“Mirrored injuries,” he muttered, thinking about what she had said and taking another bite. “What does that mean? How is that possible? 

Finishing his food, he then drank the rest of the coffee. Standing up, he set the lunch box onto a visible headstone so as not to forget it. 

Stretching and swinging his arms, he turned to the left and looked where they had seen Fauna and her friends dancing naked last night and he shook his head as he laughed. 

That had been quite a shock. 

Deciding to head over and check it out again, he walked through the cemetery, stopping for a second to glance at Sarah’s headstone and give it a quick nod.

The moment he left the perimeter of the cemetery, he felt it. A change in the air, the temperature plummeting. He shivered as he stood staring at a small white house that had not been there a second ago. Stepping stones created a path and flowers grew beside the door. 

Turning around to try and make sense of it all, he saw the cemetery, but with only half the headstones within it. 

And no metal lunch box in sight. 

Curiosity overtaking him, he turned around again and saw the curtains in the large window flutter as though someone had just been looking through them. 

What the hell? he thought. What is happening? 

He shivered again, his heart racing as he watched the doorknob begin to turn. He took another step toward the house, his foot landing on one of the stepping stones, as the door creaked open. 

Chapter Text

Scully pulled into the parking lot of the motel, sighing disgustedly as she got a whiff of herself. 

“God, I smell,” she said, shaking her head as she got out of the car and slammed the door. 

Unlocking the motel door, she stepped inside and turned on the light, as she took off her blazer and started to unbutton her shirt when she heard the toilet flush. Her hand went to her gun and she aimed it at the closed door. 

“Come out of the bathroom slowly,” she said. “I’m armed and will not hesitate to shoot if you try anything. Come out slowly.” 

The knob turned and the door pulled back to reveal Mulder standing there with an amused look on his face, his hands held shoulder high. 

“I’m not armed. Please don’t shoot.” 

“Jesus, Mulder,” she said, shaking her head and dropping her arm down, and then putting her gun back. “You scared me.” 

“I can see that,” he said. “I’m safe, I promise.” 

It was at that moment that she noticed he was bleeding and she hurried over to him. 

“Oh my God, what happened to you?” she asked, pulling him toward the bed and forcing him to sit down. 

“Nothing, I’m fine.” 

“Your head is bleeding. That’s not fine.” 

“Oh, I thought it’d stopped.” He reached up and she blocked his hands. 

“Let me get a towel.” 

“It’s not that bad, Scully,” he said as she started to walk toward the bathroom. 

“Shut up and stay there. I’ll be right back.” 

Turning on the light, she quickly grabbed a washcloth and a hand towel just in case she needed both. 

“What did you do?” she asked him as she came back into the room and stood in front of him between his legs, pressing the washcloth to the cut above his left eye. 

“Do?” 

“To get the cut? Did you fall?” 

“Fall?” 

She pulled back to look at him and he smiled at her. 

“Do you think that’s funny?” 

“Kind of,” he said and she shook her head. 

“Well, it’s not. What happened?” 

“A tree branch, I think.” 

“You think? You don’t know for sure?” she asked, frowning as she pulled the washcloth back to see if it was still bleeding. 

“I’ll tell you something I am sure of, you stink. What is that smell? Coffee?” 

“Yes, thank you for telling me. I definitely hadn’t noticed that smell after spilling nearly an entire cup of coffee onto myself. ” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes as she put the washcloth back as his head began bleeding again. 

“Glad to be helpful. Shit. That hurt,” he said, pulling back with a wince. 

“Hold still or it will take longer,” she said and he grumbled, but leaned closer. “This was just from a tree branch? You didn’t fall or anything?” 

“No. I don’t think so.” 

“Mulder,” she said, staring at him with her eyebrows raised. 

“I don’t think I fell.” 

“Mulder,” she said again. “How do you not remember if you fell? Does anything else hurt? Arms? Legs? Your back or your head?” She touched his head with her other, feeling through his hair for lumps or bumps. 

“Mmm,” he hummed, closing his eyes. “That feels nice.” 

“I don’t feel any bumps,” she said. “Where did you do this? The cemetery?” 

“The cemetery…” he said, nodding his head slowly, his eyes still closed. 

“Mulder, look at me.” 

He opened his eyes and she watched his pupils to see if they were dilated, but they were fine. 

“How did you get here?” 

“Depends on how you describe “here” I suppose.” 

“What?” she asked confusedly. 

“Well, do you mean “here” as in physically, emotionally, or spiritually? And do you mean “here” as in the earth, this life, this motel room? What do you mean?” 

“Mulder,” she said, stepping back and staring at him. “What are you talking about?” 

“Just looking for clarification, Scully,” he said with a small shrug. “So I can then properly answer your question.” 

“The motel room,” she said flatly. “How did you get here this afternoon?” 

He blinked at her and then turned to look towards the door. 

“I… the sheriff dropped me off.” 

“From the cemetery?” she asked, holding the bloody washcloth, his head still lightly bleeding. 

“Yeah. The cemetery.” 

“What did you find there?” she asked, watching him carefully. 

“Not much.” 

“Nothing that could pinpoint if Trevor had been there before he was found?” 

“Trevor…” 

“Mulder, look at me,” she said again and he did, staring into her eyes. “Did-”

“You’re so beautiful,” he said softly and she froze as she frowned at him. 

“What?” 

“I said that you’re beautiful.” 

“Why did you say that?” 

“Because you are, Scully,” he said, his hands touching the backs of her thighs, causing her to jerk forward. “I should tell you that more often.”  

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You shouldn’t.” 

“Why not?” he asked, moving his hands up to her waist and she started breathing harder, the overwhelmingly sickly scent of old coffee filling her nose. 

“Mulder, stop,” she said, trying to pull away, but his grip tightened. 

“Do you not like hearing that I find you beautiful?” he asked and she frowned at him. 

“I… Why are you saying this right now?” 

“Because it’s true. Because I’ve always thought so. Always felt… well… Then the one time I actually did something about how I felt, I nearly lost you.” 

“Mulder, please,” she said quietly as she shook her head. 

“You almost left and I couldn’t let you go without you knowing. Without… taking a chance.” 

“What?” she asked, her hands on his shoulders. 

“You said you’d only held me back. That I didn’t need you. God, Scully, how could you ever think that was true?” 

“Mulder…” she whispered. “Please stop.” 

“If that bee hadn’t been there… what would have happened?” 

“Mulder, please don’t ask me that question.” 

“Why? We’ve never talked about it. It’s been two years and we haven't talked about it.” 

“Mulder, stop. This isn’t the time.” 

“Then when?” he asked. “When is the time, Scully?” 

“I… I don’t know.” 

“When it’s too late? When one of us is hurt or… gone?” 

“You had to have hit your head. Let me check again.” 

“I didn’t hit my head.” 

“Then why…” 

“Because it’s how I feel,” he said, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer. “And I want to talk about it.” 

“Talk about it?” she asked, breathing harder, the washcloth dropping from her hand and landing behind him as she circled his neck with her arms. 

“Hmm. Yeah. Unless you don’t want to talk…” 

“Mmmulder,” she said, licking her lips nervously. “Your head…” 

“Is fine,” he assured her, his fingers spanning across her back and pushing slightly, bringing her even closer to him.  

“You…” she said, staring at his mouth, watching as he took a breath. 

“Stop thinking so much,” he whispered as she lowered her head and hooked her fingers in the collar of his shirt, holding on for balance. 

“I just…” 

“Stop thinking, Scully,” he whispered again and then her lips were pressed against his and she moaned. 

Soft and achingly slowly, she kissed him, his fingers pressing into her back, his shirt clutched in her hands. His mouth opened slightly and his bottom lip went between hers and her stomach clenched. 

Her phone rang and she jumped, breaking from their kiss. 

“Leave it,” he said, shaking his head and pulling her back for another kiss, his tongue running along her bottom lip before sliding into her mouth. 

She whimpered and fell into him, the kiss intensifying as the phone stopped ringing. 

“You taste so good,” he whispered, kissing her softly again, her breathing irregular and shallow. “Don’t smell so great, but…” 

He slid his hands under her shirt and touched her bare skin on her back. She jumped and gasped, jerking away from him. 

“Your hands are freezing.” 

“No they aren’t,” he laughed, trying to touch her again. 

“They are. Why are they so cold?” 

“They aren’t. Look.” He pulled back, rubbed them together, and then held them out to her. “See? They’re warm.” 

“No, they’re freezing,” she said, touching them tentatively and then staring at him as her phone rang again.  

“Leave it,” he said again and she shook her head as an uneasy feeling began to settle in her stomach. 

“I can’t.” She stepped back from him, but kept an eye on him as she took her phone from her coat pocket. 

“Scully,” she said, still watching him. 

“Agent Scully. It’s Sheriff Walker.” 

“Hello,” she said, as she watched Mulder rub his hands together slowly with a frown and then touch his head near his cut. 

“Agent Scully, I really don’t want to alarm you, but have you seen or heard from Agent Mulder?” 

“What do you mean?” she asked, her heart racing. 

“Well, no one can remember seeing him for some time.” 

“How long?”

“I spoke to him about… one thirty-ish when I gave him a lunch my wife had made for him.” 

“That was three hours ago,” she said, looking at her watch. 

“Yeah. No one can remember seeing him after that. The lunch box I gave him was there, but he wasn’t. I’ve tried calling him, but there hasn’t been an answer. I tried you just a minute ago, but something told me to try again.” 

Her cheeks burned as she remembered why she had not answered the phone, both at the thought of their kiss and the worry she was now feeling about Mulder’s mental state. 

“I have seen… it,” she said, hoping the sheriff understood and Mulder did not. 

“You’ve seen him? Is he okay?” 

“Unclear,” she said, still speaking in code so as not to alarm Mulder who had risen to his feet and stood unsteadily as he looked around the room. 

“Scully?” he asked. “When did I get here?” 

“Agent Scully?” the sheriff asked. “Are you okay? He’s there with you?” 

“Yes,” she said, exhaling a nervous breath as Mulder touched his head. 

“I’m bleeding,” he said, showing her the red blood on his fingers. “What happened to me? Scully…” He started to step towards her, but his legs buckled and he dropped to the floor. 

“Mulder! Oh my God!” she shouted, dropping the phone as she hurried to him, rolling him onto his back to check for a pulse and if he was breathing. 

“Agent Scully!” the sheriff yelled, his voice tinny and far away. 

“I need your help!” she shouted back. “I need an ambulance at the motel! Hurry!” 

“I’m on my way! We’ll be there soon! Okay? Just hang on!” 

“Did you hear that, Mulder?” she whispered close to his ear, watching his chest rising and falling. “Help is coming. Hang on. Just hang on…” 

Chapter Text

“He didn’t seem like himself.” 

“We couldn’t find him for hours. 

“Did he hit his head?” 

“He said it was a tree branch that scratched him.” 

“Agent Mulder? Can you speak to us?” 

“Mulder? Can you hear me?” 

“Always,” he tried to say to Scully, hearing the worry in her voice, but his brain and mouth were having a hard time working together. 

He felt light, confused, and tired. So very tired. 

What had happened? 

His eyes were heavy and felt nearly impossible to open, but he forced them to do so. 

A hospital room, so brightly lit, he closed his eyes again.

Wrong. It was all wrong. There was something he was forgetting. Something important. 

Stepping stones. A house. The sounds of crying. 

Where was that little white house? How had he even found it? 

“Mulder, can you hear me?” 

Scully squeezed his hand, but he barely registered it, as the memories came rushing back to him…  

A woman stepped through the door of the house, pausing to smile at the world around her as she closed the door. He watched her, in her light blue dress and basket of flowers on her arm, and knew immediately that it was Sarah Blackwell. The paintings and drawings had captured her likeness, but here she was softer, more vibrant. 

She’s alive, you idiot, he thought to himself and then shook his head. No. She wasn’t, not really. 

But she was, at least for that moment and he had no intention of missing a second with her. 

She walked up the path, not seeing him, and the closer she got, the more he panicked, until she walked right through him and he felt it like an icy blast of air. 

He turned around, but she did not seem to have noticed. Following her, they walked through the cemetery where she stopped to lay flowers on random graves until her basket was empty. 

She continued on, walking to the edge of the cemetery, singing softly to herself. Stepping onto a dirt path, she disappeared from his sight. 

He looked all around, but she was gone. He stepped to the edge of the cemetery, but stopped, somehow knowing that if he went further, he would never be able to get back to this place. 

The sound of laughter behind him made him whirl around and he hurried through the cemetery to find her now sitting on a quilt with a man, a picnic lunch between them. She shook her head and he laughed, taking off his hat and placing it beside him. 

Spotting a flower in the grass, he plucked it and offered it to her. She smiled, turning her head and he placed it behind her ear, tucking a piece of her long golden hair with it. His hand cupped her cheek and that simple gesture felt more intimate to Mulder than a kiss. 

Coughing caused him to turn again and he saw the same man sitting in a chair where the picnic quilt had been, his health greatly diminished. Sarah came out of the house with said quilt and wrapped him in it as he coughed again, staring at her with sad eyes. 

Obadiah , Mulder thought, as he watched Sarah press her forehead to his and hold his face tenderly. 

“Please, Father,” Sarah was pleading, standing on the stepping stone path, grabbing the arm of an older man. “There has to be something you can do for him.” 

“There is not, Sarah. I have done all that I can.” 

“But the book, you haven’t tried-”

“Enough!” her father shouted and birds cried as they flew away. “You do not know of what you speak. You are only a woman and not learned in doctoring.” 

“He is my husband!” 

“Yes, and you should be making arrangements for his service, not trying to change the inevitable. I am sorry, Sarah.” 

Her father walked away and when he was gone from her sight, she fell to her knees and cried. 

A fire burned inside of a rock pit, a large hanging pot steaming above it. Sarah came out of the house, the sound of coughing following her. 

“This one will work. I know it will.” 

Using a large spoon, she stirred the pot as she wiped her tears from her eyes. 

Bottles were smashed to the ground and Sarah was held by two men as her father yelled at her for meddling and possibly poisoning her own husband. She was taken away, despite her loud cries and protests, her father firmly shutting the door to the little house. 

In the cemetery, a small group stood by an open grave, a plain wooden casket beside it. Mulder walked over slowly, staring at Sarah as he got close, her face pale and sad. 

The picnic quilt was out again, though no food was present. Sarah sat on her own with a flower tucked behind her ear, Obadiah’s hat in her lap, as tears ran down her face. 

Her father knocked at her door, calling for her to answer, but she kept the door locked, staring at the door angrily until he finally left. 

She wore only black dresses, sitting in the cemetery at Obadiah’s grave, in her small garden, in the forest, or cooking something over the outdoor rock pit. 

Another funeral, but she did not join. She watched from her little house, laying white flowers on the grave only after everyone had finally gone. 

“I’m sorry, Father. I failed you as well.” 

Children came and threw rocks at her home, breaking windows that she then repaired herself, eventually boarding them up completely. Women came to her in darkness, asking for help with their crying baby, or a feverish child. She never turned them away, always giving what she could, even if she knew the same women spoke ill of her after they had left. 

She stood outside of her home as men and women set fire to it and Mulder realized with a start that she had died and what he was witnessing was her spirit remaining behind. 

The house caught fire, the flames dancing high into the air and Sarah disappeared. 

It was dark, the house long since gone. Grass grew over the remains, trees grew taller, and more headstones were added to the cemetery. No one ever lived in that area again, as stories whispered on the breeze that it was haunted. 

“A witch lived there.” 

“The house was haunted.” 

“She drank her own poison by mistake.” 

Mulder heard the words, but did not know from where they came. Then he saw her again, emerging from the forest with her golden hair down her back, and a black cloak fastened around her neck and over her black dress. 

She walked straight to the cemetery and laid white flowers upon the graves of Obadiah Blackwell and James Merchant, standing over her father’s grave with a shake of her head. 

Turning her head, she stared directly at Mulder, her expression unreadable, and then she was gone. 

Time went by, how long he could not tell, but then he heard someone crying in the cemetery. He walked over and saw a young woman, crying at Sarah’s grave, pleading and asking for guidance. 

He heard what sounded like quiet footsteps and then he saw her again, coming to stand behind the crying woman. She knelt down and as he watched her lean down, embracing the woman from behind, he realized that the young woman was Fauna. 

“I’m sorry,” Sarah whispered, closing her eyes. “Please don’t harm yourself. The world may always feel that it’s against you, but the choice is yours to give it that power.” 

Fauna breathed deeply and her crying ceased. She touched her shoulder, her hand on Sarah’s, though Mulder knew that Fauna could not actually feel her. 

“Thank you,” Fauna whispered, smiling as she wiped her tears. 

Sarah stood to her feet and walked towards Mulder, her eyes hard as she stared at him. 

“You can see me,” he said incredulously, wanting to know everything. 

“Yes.” 

“How are you-”

“Not yet,” she whispered with a shake of her head. “It’s not time yet. Get out of here. Go back.” 

“I don’t want-”

“Did you hear me?! I said GO BACK!” she shouted, her hands raised up as if to push him. 

Having never seen this side of her, it scared him and he stumbled backwards, falling out of her world and back into his own, landing hard onto his left side, his head connecting with something rough. 

He sat up and looked around, not having any idea where he was, blood running down his face. Stumbling to his feet, he shuffle-walked until he hit a paved road and turned right, somehow knowing that would lead him where he needed to go. 

The motel in sight, he let himself in and walked directly into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, forgetting everything that had happened. 

“Agent Mulder,” a man’s voice said and Mulder opened his eyes immediately. Peter Blake stood before him, his expression serious. “It’s time now. She’s waiting.” 

Mulder sat up as if he had known this was going to happen and got out of the hospital bed. Peter handed him his clothes and waited as he dressed. 

“Don’t come with me,” Mulder said to Peter as he opened the door. “Stay here. I want to know you’re safe. For your sake and Gina’s. She deserves that at the very least.” 

Peter nodded and Mulder nodded back, walking out the door, out of the hospital, and onto a bus that seemed to be waiting for him. 

Chapter Text

“How could he just walk out of here and nobody saw him?” Scully asked loudly, her hands on her hips. “He collapsed and was brought in by ambulance. Yet, he got up, walked out, and no one saw him leave? How is that possible?” 

“Agent Scully-”

“No. I want to know where he is and what happened!” 

“Agent Scully-”

“What?” She turned around and saw Peter Blake standing halfway down the hall. He held her gaze and her stomach dropped as she quickly walked over to him. “Where is he?” 

“The cemetery.” 

“Why?” 

“She needs to help him. To help someone.” 

“Who?” 

“You know who,” he said with a nod. “You just don’t want to believe or admit it.” 

“Sarah Blackwell.” He nodded and she scoffed, shaking her head. “I don’t believe it because it’s not possible.” 

“You’re wrong. It’s possible. I know it for a fact. I’m here, aren’t I? All of my scans are still clear. Whatever happened… whatever I believed was possible before… it’s nothing compared to what I believe now.” 

“You think… you really believe she healed you? A woman dead for nearly two hundred years?” 

“I know how it sounds. I do. But, yes. I do.” 

“That’s…” 

“Is it any different than thinking a god, who is believed to reside in the sky, could do the same thing?” 

She stared at him, opening her mouth to say that of course it was, but then closed it with a sigh. 

“Why does she want Mulder?” she asked softly. 

“I can’t say exactly as I don’t know. I just know… she needs to help someone. Like she helped me.” 

“But why?” 

“I don’t know why. I just feel it.” He moved his fingers like he had done the first time they met him and shook his head. “It’s like… like static electricity building. I feel it.  I know you can’t, but Agent Mulder does. He knows.” 

“Will… will she hurt him?” 

“No.”

“I’m sorry if I don’t completely believe that’s true. Have you seen Trevor?” she asked skeptically and he nodded with a small smile. 

“He was there with me, though I never saw him. He remembered me. I think he somehow helped to save me. I don’t know how, but…” He shrugged and Scully sighed heavily. 

“Where will I find him?” 

____________

Slamming the car door, Scully stared at the cemetery, the light from the full moon nearly bright enough, but she still took her flashlight out of her coat pocket and turned it on. 

As she started to walk towards the cemetery, headlights shining behind her made her turn around, shielding her eyes. Another car pulled behind as the first car parked, and then another, all parking beside each other. The lights cut off, doors began to open, and Flora, Fauna, Ashley, Cassie, Renée and the other women from Fauna’s coven got out and looked at Scully. 

“What are you doing here?” Scully asked, staring at them in shock. 

“Helping you,” Fauna said, closing the door and buttoning her coat. 

“That’s right,” one of Fauna’s friends said, putting on gloves and nodding. “Fauna called, sounding the alarm, and we all answered.” 

“With you,” Fauna said, nodding at Scully. “We have thirteen, the goddesses' number. There's also a full moon tonight. Whatever has been happening lately, it seems like tonight’s the night. I’ve been feeling it all day.” 

“Me too,” said Ashley and Cassie looked at her, both of them nodding. “Something in the air… like an electric current.” 

“Exactly,” Fauna said, nodding at Ashley who smiled back somewhat nervously. “Let’s go. It’s time.” 

Scully kept looking at the women who walked with flashlights, silently and with purpose through the cemetery. 

“What’s the plan, Faun?” Flora asked softly and Scully heard  Fauna sigh. 

“Sarah will show us what she needs,” Fauna replied and Scully caught Flora’s eye, not knowing what to say. 

“Okay, little sister,” Flora said, taking Fauna’s hand and nodding. 

This is ridiculous, Scully thought. It will get us nowhere. We should be searching for them, not doing whatever this will be. 

But then, as they reached the edge of the cemetery and Fauna stopped walking, the hairs on the back of Scully’s neck stood up and she began to breathe harder. 

“You feel it, Agent Scully,” Fauna whispered. “It’s that current that Ashley mentioned. It’s right there.” She reached out, like Peter had, and she moved her fingers slowly. “Feel it. Here.” 

She took Scully’s hand and held it in her own, moving their fingers together. 

“Oh my God,” Scully said, feeling it in her fingers and down her wrist. 

“She’s here somewhere. We just have to find her. Ladies, the candles.” 

Fauna left Scully to help set up candles in a circle in the grass. The flashlights were turned off as thirteen, tall, round white candles were lit and each person was instructed to stand behind one of them, keeping the circle tight. 

“Sarah Blackwell,” Fauna said and Scully raised her eyes from her candle to look at her. “We are here tonight, in the place where you once lived, to help you. We understand now. You’re trapped. Stuck in between worlds and you don’t want to be. Not anymore. You probably haven’t for a very long time. But we understand now and we want to help you. Show us how to help you.” 

Scully looked around and saw the others doing the same, waiting for some kind of a sign. 

It’s silly, she thought, but then her candle flickered though there was no wind blowing. 

It sputtered and caught, sputtering again, and nearly extinguishing. 

“Talk to it,” Fauna whispered. “See who it is.” 

Scully stared at her incredulously and Fauna nodded, looking at the candle. 

“Uh… Sarah?” Scully asked, clearing her throat and feeling exceptionally ridiculous to be speaking to a candle. It sputtered twice and Scully could almost picture it shaking its head in exasperation. “Mm… Mulder?” 

The flame burned incredibly brightly and then resumed its regular glow, causing everyone to gasp and murmur about the impossibilities of what they were witnessing. 

“Agent Mulder? It’s Fauna, can you hear me?” 

The candle glowed again and Flora exhaled loudly as she shook her head and looked at her sister. 

“We’re here at the cemetery with you, wherever you are. We want to help Sarah to find peace. To ascend, as she was meant to do on the day she died. Do you see Sarah?” 

Bright white flame burned again and Fauna covered her mouth, her eyes wide. 

“How do we get to you, Mulder?” Scully breathed, but the candle did not react. “Mulder, did you hear me?” 

The candle glowed and then began to lessen. 

“No!” Scully said, dropping to her knees in the cold wet grass as it nearly went out. 

“Oh my God,” someone said and Scully turned to see the candle in front of Ashley burning brightly. “Arthur? Is… is it you?” Even brighter it glowed and Ashley began to cry. “How… how can we-”

“Brent?” Cassie said as her candle burned brighter and it flickered and glowed. “You’re safe?” Again it flickered and Cassie laughed shakily. 

Looking back at the candle in front of her, Scully saw it was nearly out. 

“Mulder,” she said quietly, bending closer to the candle, taking a deep breath. “Don’t be the sacrificial hero. I can’t… Don’t leave me. Please. Please don’t…” 

The candle sputtered, glowed, and burned out, the instant darkness hurting her eyes and breaking her heart. 

“No,” she whispered, clutching her stomach. “No. He can’t… he couldn’t…” 

“Agent Scully. Look. What is that?” 

Looking up, she saw Fauna pointing toward the forest where a faint light was glowing. Or perhaps the light was bright and the forest was dense, but it did not matter. 

On her feet and running, as Fauna called after her to wait. She paid her no heed, hurrying as fast as she could, not wanting to believe what the darkened candle could possibly mean. 

Branches hit her face, her arms and hands as she lifted them to protect herself, the only light she could see, the growing one in the forest. 

“Mulder!” she yelled, almost tripping over a large tree root and catching herself on a tree trunk. “Mulder, where are you? Mulder, please!” 

She ran toward the light and suddenly she was in the light, running headlong into a large shape in front of her before she could slow down and stop herself. 

Bouncing back, someone caught her around the waist and held her tightly. Stumbling together, she grabbed blindly at them, gaining her footing enough to avoid a fall to the ground. 

“Scully?” 

“Mulder?” 

She put on a steadying hand on his chest and stared at him in disbelief as he continued to hold her around the waist. 

“You’re okay? There was a candle and it… it…” She looked around and saw lights that seemed to be floating around a woman standing behind Mulder. 

She stared at her, taking in her golden hair, dark clothes and green eyes. 

“Sarah,” she said, staring at her unbelievingly and the woman nodded, her expression intense and probing. 

“How did you get here?” Mulder asked Scully, loosening his hold on her, but keeping a hand at her lower back and hip to keep her steady as she began to slip. 

“Those lights, they’re…” 

“They are,” Sarah agreed and Scully nodded at Mulder as she stepped away from him and towards Sarah. 

“They want to help you, Sarah. To get you where-”

“They can’t. I don’t know how they can.” 

“Where are Brent and Arthur?” 

“You didn’t see them?” Mulder asked worriedly. “They were supposed to have-”

“They did. She came in as they went out.” 

“What?” Scully asked, not understanding as she looked at Mulder. 

“What does that mean, Sarah?” Mulder asked and Sarah shook her head. 

“I don’t know. I…” She shook her head and looked down. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to-”

“Sarah Blackwell,” Fauna’s voice called gently, a light glowing brighter behind Sarah. “Can you hear me?” 

“That’s Fauna. She came here tonight to help you. To do what she can to-”

“I know her voice,” Sarah said. “She was here and I…” 

“You saved her,” Mulder said and Sarah shook her head, her eyes hard and angry. 

“No. I did not. If I had, I would have been… I would be with Obadiah.” 

“You did. You saved her,” Mulder said. “And now you’ve saved Peter. He and his… wife… get to live their lives together, like you had with Obadiah, as brief as it was, unfortunately.” 

“He… they get to be together?” Sarah asked, looking at each of them. 

“Yes,” Scully whispered, watching as all the lights began to glow brightly. She reached for Mulder’s hand and he interlocked their fingers, holding tightly. 

“And the woman?” Sarah asked, turning to look at the lights as Mulder tugged Scully closer to his side. 

“She’s happy and wants you to find peace.” 

Sarah turned back to look at Mulder. Scully watched him nod as Sarah shook her head. 

“Is it enough?” she whispered. “Is it finally enough?” 

“Yes,” he said, holding even tighter to Scully’s hand as he reached towards Sarah. “Go, Sarah.” 

“Sarah,” Fauna said softly, her light glowing even brighter. “Go, Sarah. Find your peace. Leave this place. Go meet Obadiah and be with him always.” 

“Go, Sarah,” Mulder whispered again, his outstretched fingers moving slowly and beckoning to her. “Go.” 

She reached out her hand and just before she touched him, she looked at Scully and smiled. 

“Yes. I think it will be enough,” she whispered, nodding her head and smiling again, her attention turning to Mulder. “Thank you.” 

“Thank you,” he said, her fingers only inches from his. His grip on Scully’s hand was nearly bone crushing, but she said nothing, only holding on tightly. 

“Goodbye,” Sarah breathed and touched his hand. 

A light shined so brightly, it forced Scully to close her eyes, as she was suddenly thrown into cold air and darkness, Mulder falling on top of her. 

“They’re here!” 

“I see them!” 

“Fauna! Over here!” 

“Mulder,” Scully whispered, touching his head. “Mulder, can you hear me?” 

“Always,” he breathed and she smiled, succumbing to unconsciousness as people began to gather around them, shouting for someone to call for help. 

Chapter Text

October 30th
10:30 a.m.

“Are you always this bossy?” Arthur asked Ashley as she suggested he adjust his bed and ask the nurse for another pillow. 

“Hey,” she said, shaking her head as he smiled at her. “I was worried about you, okay? Forgive me if I want to be sure you’re comfortable.” 

“I’m fine,” Arthur said. “Now quit telling your big brother what to do. I’m older and wiser than you, you know.” 

“Shut up,” Ashley said, smiling as she looked at him and then glanced at Mulder who smiled at her with a nod. 

He was waiting for Scully, who was in the next room returning the coat she had borrowed and saying goodbye to Harriet, Renée, and Trevor. 

Last night, after waking up in the hospital around midnight, Mulder had wondered if Sarah and the time spent with her in the cemetery had all just been an incredible dream. When the door had opened and Scully had come in with red angry scratches on her face and relief in her eyes, he knew it had been real.

“Hey,” she had said, coming to his bedside. “You feeling okay?” 

“Are you?” he had asked with a nod, reaching up to gently touch her face. “What happened to you?” 

“Tree branches,” she had said with a slight smile. “Like you, except I suspect that yours wasn’t from a tree.” 

“Mine?” he had asked with a frown and she had stiffened slightly before pulling back from his touch as she cleared her throat and gestured to his head. 

“There,” she had said and he had reached up to touch it, finding a bandage above his eye. 

“What happened? I don’t remember hurting myself.” 

“You said it was from a tree branch, but it was pretty deep and it wouldn’t stop bleeding.”

“What?” 

“At the motel earlier? You’d been searching for the other men with the sheriff and other people in the cemetery?” 

“Yeah. I remember searching for them and then I… I spoke to Peter, here I think. Or in his room?” 

“You don’t remember anything else?” she asked, her expression neutral. 

“I… I don’t know. Did something else happen? Did I do something?” 

“No,” she had said, shaking her head and attempting a smile. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Scully, if something happened-”

“Nothing happened, Mulder. Nothing that was of importance to the case.” 

“Well, that doesn’t sound like it was nothing,” he had said, frowning again as he stared at her. “Scully…” 

A knock had sounded on the door and then Doctor Huron had walked inside with a smile, checking in and seeing how Mulder was feeling, stopping any conversation they would have had. 

He had been released not long after that and they had gone back to the motel where he had fallen into a quick and soundless sleep, his body exhausted and his mind in desperate need of rest.  

When he had woken, Scully, already dressed and ready for the day, had been packing her clothes.

“Hey,” she had said with a small smile, when she saw he was awake. “I talked to Skinner and booked us a flight at three. We need to check in with the sheriff and I have to return the coat I borrowed from Harriet.” 

“What time is it?” he had asked, still feeling a bit sluggish.  

“Uh… seven,” she had said, looking at her watch. 

“Christ, how long have you been awake?” he had asked, sitting up and rubbing his face. 

“Not long,” she had replied, shrugging her shoulders, continuing to pack.

He had nodded as he stood up and stretched with a groan. Walking to the bathroom, he had felt her eyes on his back, but she said nothing. 

They had left the motel, stopping for breakfast before meeting with the sheriff. 

“I really can’t thank you enough,” he had said, shaking their hands. “I admit that I don’t quite understand all that happened, but I’m beyond happy that everyone is safe and alive. Jesus… if any of them had died…” He had shaken his head and sighed deeply, Scully nodding in understanding. 

Arthur Harvey did not have a clear memory of what had happened to him, his thoughts still foggy and unsure. He remembered being at a party with Ashley, going to the car to wait for her and make sure she had a safe ride home, but then it all got blurry. 

“It’s weird,” he told Mulder, accepting the cup of water Ashley gave him and then telling her to sit and stop her fussing. “It’s like I know what happened, but I don’t at the same time. I know that doesn’t help with your investigation, Agent Mulder.” 

“It does,” Mulder said, smiling at him and nodding. “You’re here, along with the others. That’s why Agent Scully and I came here. The why it all happened… that’s not always ours to know or understand.” 

“Seems kinda shitty,” Ashley said, shaking her head angrily. “Someone should pay for what they did to all those men and their families.” 

“Ash,” Arthur said, looking at her with a frown. “No.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means, I may not remember everything, maybe I never will, but I do know one thing: wherever I was, whoever had me… they paid more than any jail sentence could ever justify.” He looked at Mulder as he let out a deep breath. “I don’t know how I know that, but I’m right, aren’t I?” 

“You are,” Mulder said quietly and Arthur nodded thoughtfully. 

The door opened and Scully smiled at them, her chin scrunched. 

“Hello Ashley. Arthur, how are you this morning?” 

“I’m feeling good,” Arthur said, nodding at her. “Thank you for everything you did. Ashley told me about it. I’m afraid that I don’t remember.” 

“That’s okay. It might come to you later, you never know.” She glanced at Mulder and then looked back at Arthur. “I’m really glad you’re okay.” 

“Me too,” Arthur said and Mulder smiled as Ashley nodded. 

“We should get going, Agent Mulder,” Scully said and he nodded. “We have that flight to catch.” 

“Yes, we do.” 

He stepped forward and shook Arthur’s hand and then Ashley’s as she stood up to say goodbye. 

“Take care,” he said. “Maybe stay away from parties in cemeteries.” 

“No shit,” Arthur said and they all laughed. 

Leaving the room, they walked down the hall and Mulder glanced at Scully. 

“We need to stop and get your coat from the cleaners, don’t we?” 

“Yeah. And I’d like to stop by Fauna’s shop too.” 

“I’d like that too,” he said, still watching her. “You think Arthur and the others will remember what happened to them?” 

“I don’t know. The brain has ways of blocking trauma and stress that we’ve endured, you know that.” 

“I do.” 

“So, I guess it would be dependent on them. If they choose to venture into those thoughts or stay content with where they are now.” 

“Hmm,” he hummed with a nod. “That makes sense.” 

She looked at him as they separated to allow a bed carrying a patient to be wheeled past them. Something in her expression made him pause and fall behind as she continued walking and two nurses walked in front of him. 

Catching up to her, he stepped close as she pulled the door open, and placed his hand gently on her back, waiting for her to step through first. 

She inhaled sharply and he wondered if it was from the cold breeze that greeted them or from his touch. 

Chapter Text

“Oh, it’s good to see the two of you,” Fauna said as Scully and Mulder walked into her shop. “How are you feeling? Oh, your poor face, Agent Scully.” 

“I feel like I should be offended by that,” Scully teased, reaching up to touch her cheek and wincing when she felt the scratches on it. “But, I’ll choose not to be as I’ve had worse injuries.” 

“And you’re still as good looking as you are? Must have some magic in your DNA or one hell of a skin care routine.” 

“She has a mask that she uses,” Mulder stated, gesturing to his own face. “It’s green and rather gooey.” 

“It’s not gooey,” Scully said, shaking her head as she smiled at him. 

“Hmm,” he hummed with a shrug and Fauna laughed. 

“Well, gooey or not, it’s doing its job.” Fauna said and it was Scully’s turn to laugh. 

“How are you?” she asked her and Fauna sighed with a nod. 

“I’m… a mix of emotions, if I’m completely  honest,” she said, chuckling softly. “I’ve spent so much of my time thinking or learning about Sarah, wanting to know all that I could, and now she’s gone. It’s for the best of course, but I can’t help but feel an emptiness over it. I walked in the forest early this morning and it felt… it was just different.” 

“I’m sure it will after all this time.” Mulder agreed and Scully exhaled quietly. 

“I always wondered what it would be like to see her, to know for certain that she was there, and last night was the closest I ever got,” Fauna said. “I’m thankful for it, but also wish I had actually seen her, you know what I mean?” 

“Maybe you never saw her,” Mulder said, smiling kindly at her. “But last night was not the closest you’ve ever been.”

“What?” 

“You told us yourself. You said you felt her in the cemetery the day you reached your lowest point.”

“I did, yeah,” Fauna said, nodding slowly. 

“When I was there yesterday afternoon, I saw things,” Mulder said. “Things I don’t really know how to explain without sounding completely crazy-” 

“Pretty sure we’ve gone way past that,” Scully murmured and he smiled at her. 

“It’s like I was in her memories, walking with her at different times in her life. Then I saw you, Fauna,” he said quietly and Fauna gasped. 

“You… you did?” she asked and he nodded.

“I heard someone crying and went to see who it was as Sarah was gone. Had been gone for a very long time. I don't know what happened to her after her death as she seemed to just disappear.” His gaze became unfocused and Scully held her tongue so as not to say anything negative, her own recent experiences shaking her once stable ground.

“She heard you, your pain and sadness, and it pulled her from wherever she had been, wanting to help you the way no one had in her own life after losing Obadiah and her father.” He smiled at Fauna as she covered her mouth and tears filled her eyes. “I saw her come and bend to embrace you.”

“It felt like a breeze was surrounding me,” Fauna breathed and Mulder nodded. 

“She was there. You even touched her hand, though you didn’t know.”

“Ohh,” Fauna said on an exhale. 

“She spoke to you.” 

“What did she say?” Fauna whispered, her cheeks wet with tears. 

“She said…” Mulder frowned as he thought and then he smiled. “She said that the world might always feel like it's against you, but it was your choice to give it that power.” 

“Oh my God, that’s so beautiful,” she said, crying and clapping her hands. “Tell me again so I can write it down. Fuck, where is a pen and some paper when you need them?”

Mulder laughed as he followed Fauna towards the register to tell her the words again and Scully stared after him in confusion. 

He remembered all of that, but not that he had called her beautiful? No memory of discussing the moment in his hallway after two years of silence? 

He could not remember kissing her? 

She stepped away and let out a deep breath as she looked at the bottles of lotions and creams for sale. She heard Fauna laugh and she looked over her shoulder, watching Mulder smile and nod his head at whatever they had been discussing. 

Should I tell him? she thought, looking back at the bottles and picking one up and opening it, taking a deep sniff and closing her eyes. Should I tell him what happened? Or would it be best to keep it to myself? 

He has no memory of it, she thought, feeling annoyed as she put the bottle back down with a little more force than was needed, the glass clinking into its mates. 

If I had no memory of it and he told me what we had done, how would it affect our relationship? Professional or otherwise? she thought, raising her eyebrows as she picked up a heavy bar of white soap, smelling it and humming approvingly at the scent. 

“No,” she whispered, her decision made as she shook her head and exhaled. 

“No what?” Mulder asked quietly near her ear, causing her to jump. 

“Jesus,” she breathed, glaring at him. “Make some noise next time.” 

“And not scare you? Where’s the fun in that?” 

“Hilarious,” she said, putting the soap back and looking at him as he grinned. 

“Agents?” Fauna said, coming toward them with a flat rectangular item in her hands. “I want you to have this. It's one of my most favorite painted renditions of Sarah.” She handed it to Scully who took it and looked at it with a smile. 

Sarah stood between the cemetery and a little white house at sunset. Her golden hair down and blowing behind her, her green eyes shining, and her mouth quirked up in a small smile, a basket held in her hands. A man stood in the doorway, smiling at her tenderly. As Scully looked a little closer, wanting to see every detail, Mulder chuckled. 

“What?” she asked, turning her head to look up at him. 

“It just needs a quilt on the ground for their picnic lunch and I could swear this was a photograph taken of her and Obadiah. Who painted this, do you know?”

“A woman who was passing through a few years back. She wanted to know about Sarah, asking me loads of questions. She spent a lot of time at the cemetery painting that, telling me she found the area to be peaceful and calming. She painted it and brought it to me, thanking me for knowing about Sarah and keeping her memory alive. She wouldn't take any money, just wanted me to have it.” 

Scully felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise up like they had in the cemetery last night and she let out a slow breath. Mulder shifting beside her led her to believe he was thinking the same thing she was, as impossible and unbelievable as it seemed. 

“What was the woman’s name?” Mulder asked softly. 

“Oh, I think it’s on the bottom there. Just her initials though.” She took the painting from Scully and looked at the bottom as Mulder tapped Scully’s hip three times. “Yeah, here it is… SMB. I don’t recollect if she ever said her first name, just used those initials.” 

“Fauna…” Scully said, raising her eyebrows. “I think this was meant for you. I can’t accept it.” 

“SMB, Fauna,” Mulder said and she stared at him in confusion before her eyes widened. “Sarah Merchant Blackwell.”

“You think… you think she… but that’s impossible,” she whispered, looking at the painting again. 

“Nothing’s ever impossible,” Mulder said softly and Fauna nodded, tears in her eyes once again. 

“Pick a lotion, or several,” Fauna said, wiping her eyes and holding the painting close to her chest. “Soaps, candles, whatever you want is free of charge. I’ll go put this back in my office and grab you a bag.” 

Scully laughed at the dramatic change as Mulder did the same, looking at her as he shrugged his shoulders. 

“Oh, and Agent Scully,” Fauna said, turning around and looking at her with a big smile. “In the spring, our coven will return to celebrating Sarah with our monthly dances. You have an open invitation to join us anytime.” 

“Would I have to bring my own rain boots?” Scully asked as she heard Mulder make a noise somewhere between a grunt and a moan.

“I think we could supply you with a pair,” Fauna said, grinning happily. 

“The flowers will be back in bloom then, won’t they?”

“Oh yes.” 

“Well, then I’m in,” she said and Mulder mumbled something about looking around the shop and walked away as she and Fauna laughed heartily. 

Chapter Text

Mulder snagged a table from an older couple as they rose and headed to their gate. He laid his coat on his chair and Scully’s on the chair opposite. It was not exactly clean, despite the time spent at the dry cleaners. 

“Some kind of mud we just can’t get out, Ma’am,” the attendant had said as he handed it to her. “I’m so sorry. We’ll only charge half price.” 

“No, that’s okay,” Scully had said with a sigh, paying the full price and even tipping him five dollars. “I appreciate the effort. Thank you.” 

“You could borrow my sweatshirt again,” Mulder had suggested once they were in the car. She had shaken her head as she looked at the spots still covering her coat. 

“It’s not perfect, but it’s good enough to get me home.”

“Well, if you change your mind… just let me know.” 

“I will. Thank you.” 

She had worn the coat, taking it off and leaving it with him when they reached the sandwich shop near their gate, telling him to get a table while she got them something to eat. 

“Ugh,” a woman said in annoyance, sitting down two tables in front of him, with a tray of food. “It’s so crowded here today. That line was so long. What’s going on?”

“It’s Halloween,” her companion said. “People are traveling.” 

“That’s not a thing, Jim,” she said with a laugh. “Halloween is not a holiday that people fly long distances to celebrate. Thanksgiving and Christmas, sure, but not Halloween. Weirdo.” She laughed again and Mulder smiled as he glanced over at Scully, who was next in line, the amount of people behind her longer than it was just a few minutes ago. 

“Maybe they’re traveling to Halloween related places, Nancy. Transylvania, Area 51…” 

“Looking for vampires and aliens?” 

“What better time than on the most haunted night of the year?” Jim said and Mulder nodded as he smiled again. 

“Jim… be serious. That’s absolutely ridiculous. You can’t tell me you actually believe in those things.” 

“Hmm,” Mulder hummed under his breath and looked up to see Jim staring at the woman with a smile pulling at his lips. She was looking down at her food and did not see the expression on his face. 

“Nancy, are you telling me that you don’t believe in monsters?” 

“Mythical ones? No, I do not,” she said, raising her head to look at him. 

“What other kinds are there?”

“People. People are the worst monsters.” 

“Nope, we aren’t doing this again,” Jim said and Mulder had to rest his mouth against his folded hands to keep from laughing out loud, their conversation sounding very familiar. 

“You asked and I answered.”

“You did indeed. I should have known better than to engage you in a conversation such as this,” he said with a smile. 

“Live and learn, I suppose,” she said with a shrug and Jim laughed. 

“God, that line was taking forever,” Scully said, setting a red tray onto the table, forcing Mulder out of the conversation of strangers and to pull his hands out of the way. “There was a guy ahead of me who waited until he was at the register to decide to look at the menu, asking… so many questions. It’s a sandwich shop. They have sandwiches. People are the worst sometimes.”

Unable to help himself, he started laughing and she looked at him like he was crazy. Shaking his head, not wanting to explain the nearly identical conversation with strangers at another table, he waved his hand and took the food off the tray and set it on the table as she sat down. 

“Oh, I forgot napkins.” 

She started to get up and he stopped her. 

“I’ll get them, you stay.” 

“Thanks.” 

A man stood near the counter, taking up the space as he spoke loudly on his cell phone, causing Mulder to roll his eyes as he reached for some napkins, but the man stepped in front of them and blocked him. 

“That’s absolute bullshit,” the man said, raising his arm in the air. “Who said that? Why would they ever say that about you? You don’t need to be giving them any more of your time. Do you hear me? Drop them and forget what they said. Okay? I’ll be home soon and we can talk more. I love you.” 

He hung up and heaved a big sigh as he shook his head. 

“Uh, excuse me,” Mulder said. “I need to grab some napkins.” 

“Oh, shit. Sorry man, I was just… My wife is having some trouble with these women at work, making her feel really bad about herself and she was so upset. She’s so beautiful and they…” 

But Mulder did not hear anything else the man had to say as he stood frozen in place. 

The stale scent of coffee. Pressure on his head. 

You’re so beautiful.

What was that? Had it happened or was it something he had dreamed?

“Mulder, were you going to get those napkins today, or do we need to delay our flight?” Scully teased as she reached behind him and pulled napkins from the holder. “Come on, or we’ll run out of time.” 

He followed her back to the table, shaking his head with a frown as he tried to remember more, but it was not coming to him. 

They sat down and he watched her, not talking much as they ate, until she sighed and wiped her mouth on a napkin. 

“Do you really believe that Sarah could have been the one to paint that picture?”

He chewed his food and swallowed it, wiping his hands on his napkin.

“Did I really step into her past?” he asked. “Did we really enter some odd… realm in the middle of the forest? Did you really speak to me through a lit candle? Did that happen?”

She looked at him, then around at the people walking through the airport, before looking at him again. 

You’re so beautiful. 

Did that happen, Scully? Did I say that to you? he thought, looking into her eyes, but he did not say it out loud, worrying what she would say if he was mistaken. 

“But how? The cemetery was where she lived, or where her spirit resided, right?”

“Both, actually, I’d say,” he said with a smile. 

“So, if that was the case,” she said, taking a sip of her water. “How would she come to Fauna’s shop? Are spirits not tied to specific places? Is that not the rule for every haunted home? The spirits who are there, are there ? They don’t jump from place to place.” 

So goddamn beautiful, he thought as he grinned. 

“Maybe since they had an encounter when Sarah comforted Fauna, or maybe through Fauna’s walks in the woods and then the uh… coven-”

“Which I am finding more and more intriguing, by the way,” she said, nodding with her eyebrows raised. “The sense of being naked under the moon-” 

“Scully…” 

She laughed as he shook his head and took a drink of his water. 

“Anyway,” he said, putting the lid back on his bottle and setting it to the side. “Maybe all the time Fauna spent in that area created a bond, allowing Sarah the ability to travel further than the cemetery and the forest.” 

“Maybe,” she said, crossing her arms on the table and looking around again as she let out a deep breath. “It was a beautiful painting, however it came to be.” 

“Yeah,” he said, staring at her profile, admiring the shape of her neck, the prominence of her cheekbones, and the beauty mark above her lip that she always kept covered. “Beautiful.”  

He continued staring at her until she caught his gaze and he smiled, suggesting they clean up and head to the gate. 

Twenty minutes into their flight, she yawned for the tenth time. Checking her seatbelt, she closed the window shade and shifted, laying her head on his shoulder, yawning again. 

“I’m gonna rest my eyes for a few minutes,” she said, her words already sounding tired and slurred. 

He smiled as he nodded against her head and closed his eyes. 

“Me too,” he whispered and she hummed, both of them asleep in minutes. 

Chapter Text

Georgetown Park Mall 
October 31st 
5:30 p.m.

“Whoa,” Scully said with a chuckle as a mummy and a goblin ran past her. 

“Sorry. They’re very excited,” their mother said, smiling as she pushed a stroller with a pink cheeked baby dressed as an angel, hurrying to catch up to the kids. 

“Understandable,” Scully said as she smiled and watched them enter the next store and yell out “trick-or-treat!” as candy was dropped into their pumpkin buckets. 

It’s a good idea, Scully thought as she looked at the families at the mall with their children, especially the younger ones, going from store to store to get candy. It’s well lit, not scary, and offers places to sit and rest. Plus it creates foot traffic for the stores. Pretty smart. 

“Just wish I would have known before I got here,” she murmured to herself as she dodged past a ninja wearing squeaky white sneakers. “I might have dressed up.”

Laughing at that idea, she entered the store where she would be purchasing a new coat, her other one set to be retired. Taking the escalator, she arrived in the women’s section and started looking around. 

The clearance section was first and she spent some time looking for new work shirts or anything else that struck her fancy. A few items were selected and then she moved on to pants and skirts, before checking out the coats even as she thought longingly of her old one. 

Her arms full, she made her way to the changing room. 

Her phone rang as she was trying on a black skirt with a side zipper, which she liked much more than when it was on the back as it was easier to reach. 

“Scully,” she said, answering her phone as she looked in the mirror, seeing how it fit. 

“Did you know that people consider chocolate to be an aphrodisiac?” Mulder asked and she rolled her eyes as she smiled at her reflection. 

“That’s not exactly true,” she said, resting her phone against her shoulder as she smoothed the skirt with both hands. Yes, this was a nice skirt, definitely something she would be buying. “Chocolate contains the chemicals phenylethylamine and serotonin, which people believe are mood boosters and also mild sexual stimulants. Chocolate tastes good, yes, but the aphrodisiac aspects of it are more from the way it melts in your mouth than an actual sexual stimulus.” 

Silence on his end had her thinking she had lost connection with him and she held the phone in her hand, staring at it before placing it back to her ear. 

“Mulder? Are you there?” 

“Jesus,” he breathed. “You gotta warn a guy before you say stuff like that. Christ.” 

“That chocolate tastes good?” she asked innocently, unzipping the skirt and letting it fall to the floor, leaving her in her bra and panties. He snorted and she smiled as she picked it up and laid it on the bench seat. 

“You know what you said,” he said with a deep sigh. “Christ.” 

“You brought it up,” she laughed, picking up a green sweater she was not entirely sure about, the color not one she was usually drawn towards. Holding it up to her chest, she made a face, but decided to try it on. 

“I only asked if you knew people considered it as such.” 

“And I explained why they did, nothing more,” she said, readying the sweater and then quickly slipping it over her head as she transferred her phone from hand to hand, hearing him snort again.

“Yeah, that’s all,” he said and she smiled, knowing that she did know how her words would be received. 

Stepping back, she looked at the sweater in the mirror, smoothing down her hair and tucking it behind her ears. 

“Hmm,” she said. “It’s not too bad.” 

“What’s not?” Mulder asked and she was surprised to realize she had spoken out loud. 

“Oh. Nothing. I just… I’m trying on coats at the mall here.” 

“Georgetown Park?” 

“Yeah. Why?” 

“No reason. Just remember you saying you liked the shops at that mall and I figured you’d be needing to get a new coat and so you’d probably be there.” 

“Okay…” she said, shaking her head as she still contemplated the sweater. “Well, if you simply called to discuss people’s opinions on chocolate, I think we’ve covered that topic.” 

“And then some,” he mumbled and she laughed softly. 

“Right. So, I have a few more things to try on, so I’m gonna let you go.” 

“Okay,” he agreed. “Talk later then.” 

“Yeah. Bye.” 

She hung up and laid her phone down, giving the green sweater one more appraising look and nodding. 

A few more minutes and she walked out with the items, keeping the ones she wanted and hanging up the ones she did not on the rack outside of the dressing room.

As she stepped back onto the sales floor, she noticed a man standing near the coats with his back to her. Shaking her head at the thought that of course he would be there and know which store she was in, she walked over and tapped him on his right shoulder as she quickly moved to his left side. He looked to his right and then his left, smiling at her as she raised her eyebrows at him. 

“So are you stalking me, or do you normally shop in this store, and more specifically in the women's section?” 

“It all depends on how I’m feeling,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve recently found that stockings sometimes feel better than dress socks, you know?” 

“Oh, I do know. You in stockings though, that’s something I think I need to see, Mulder. Do you prefer full coverage or thigh high? Because if you’re not sure, I could show you my favorite brands and then we could compare notes,” she said and he put his hands up as he abruptly turned and walked away from her.

“As if the discussion about chocolate wasn’t bad enough,” he said and she laughed as she followed him. 

“Once again, I’ll point out that you brought it up.” 

“And you made it-”

“Harder?” she asked and he stopped walking so abruptly, she nearly ran into him. 

“Just…” he said, putting up a finger and shaking his head as she laughed silently. 

“I need to pay for these. Can you please keep moving?” 

“As long as you just…” He waved his finger and she gave him a gentle shove to get moving. 

“So you found a coat then?” he asked, changing the subject as they headed towards the register and she smiled. 

“Yeah. Plus a few extra things.” 

“Is that a green sweater?” he asked, reaching out to touch it. 

“Yeah, I wasn’t so sure about it, but it looks good. Not sure how often I’ll wear it, but…” She shrugged and he looked from her to the sweater and nodded. 

“It’s a good color. Goes well with your skin. Oh, that sounded super fucking creepy,” he said, snapping his fingers and hitting his right hand on top of his left. 

“You wanna try that again, or leave it there, stalker?” she asked with a laugh. 

“I think you chose a good color to accentuate your assets. Oh Christ, that’s even worse,” he said, shaking his head as she laughed harder. 

“Give it one more go. Third time’s a charm and all that,” she said with a smile and he stopped walking as she did the same. 

He reached out and extricated the sweater from under the coat. Holding onto the hanger, he held it out at her shoulder height, looking at it and then her. She smiled and waited to hear how he would dig himself out of this one. 

Nodding, he handed it back to her. 

“It’s a good color for you. You should wear it more often.” Nodding again, he pursed his lips and shrugged as he put his hands in his coat pockets. 

“Well,” she said, touched by his words. “And here I was expecting it to be worse than the others.” She smiled and he smiled back. 

“The plain truth of it is, Scully,” he said, sighing deeply as he looked her in the eyes. “It would be hard to find a piece of clothing that didn’t enhance your beauty.” 

“Oh… well, thank you,” she whispered, taken aback as she remembered his words from the motel, her heart suddenly beating faster. 

“You’re welcome.” 

They stared at each other until a child dressed as a little red devil ran past them and his mother came running after him, calling out and telling him to stop. 

“Would you like to get some dinner?” he asked and she looked at the mother and then at him. 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said with a smile and he nodded. 

Her items purchased and bagged, they walked towards the main hub of the mall and paused as they watched the families going into stores so their children could receive candy. 

“It’s actually a really good idea, you know,” he said. “Especially for the little ones who lose interest quickly. Plus it’s warm in here so they don’t have to wear coats over their costumes. That was always the worst. Weeks of planning the perfect costume and then you were forced into a puffy coat that made you sweat.” 

“Yeah,” she said with a chuckle, remembering those nights of begging to take off her coat and being told no. 

A little witch walked by with a plastic black cauldron full of candy and Scully smiled as an even smaller witch joined her, grabbing onto the older one's long purple cape. 

“They won’t get away with this,” the bigger of the witches said in a high pitched voice. 

“Nod diss time,” the small witch said, her voice also high, and they both cackled as they walked to the next store, the older witch taking the smaller one's hand. 

“So cute,” Scully said, smiling and then sighing with a shake of her head at the realization that she would never have children to dress up and bring trick or treating on Halloween. 

Swallowing down the sudden lump in her throat, she felt Mulder’s hand on her back. His touch was gentle and she knew he had noticed and was silently asking if she was okay. She nodded and he rubbed her back before moving his hand. 

She took a few cleansing breaths and glanced over at him, needing to speak about something else. Something that had been weighing on her mind. 

“I’ve been thinking,” she said, switching her bag to her other hand. 

“Yeah? What about?” he asked with a chuckle as he stepped out of the way of a trio of older kids dressed as blind mice, who kept bumping into one another and making people laugh. 

“About Sarah.” 

“Hmm,” he said, now giving her his undivided attention. “What were you thinking?” 

“Some things are still not clear to me.” 

“Some things, Scully? Only some? ” he teased. “It’s taken a while, but I think my belief in extreme possibilities is beginning to have its effect on you.” 

“Hardly,” she said, bumping his arm lightly. “Seeing as how you most likely won’t be curious about the same things I am, seeing as you believe almost everything, no questions asked.” 

“I don’t think that’s necessarily true.” 

“No?” 

“No,” he said, shaking his head and smiling at her. “I’d say we’re probably thinking about the same things.” 

“Go on then. Enlighten me,” she said and he nodded.  

“How’d she choose Peter?” he asked, and she raised her eyebrows. “How did she know he needed help?” 

“Yeah. Exactly,” she said, thinking about Leonard Betts and how he had known about her own cancer before she ever did.  

“The mirrored injuries between Peter and Trevor,” he continued, stopping her from walking and looking at her. “I think that she was taking from Trevor in order to treat Peter, but I don’t know how to begin to explain the logistics of it.” 

“Because she couldn’t take from either of them, Mulder. Not physically. She couldn’t touch or administer anything to them.” 

“That’s true. But, I don’t think she needed to touch them physically.”

“Thank you, that makes perfect sense,” she said sarcastically. 

He chuckled and nodded as he looked around and then back at her. 

“I think what she did was more of a feeling or a thought. If she needed to move them, treat them, let them go… she simply thought it and it happened. If they needed to be in a particular place, she pictured the place and they were there.” 

“She pulled them to her somehow,” she said and he hummed as he shook his head. 

“No. Not exactly, as that makes it sound sinister. I’d say she enticed them somehow. Maybe with a feeling of calm and safety. Once there, I’m sure they did feel afraid as things were not “normal” for them.”

“Peter said he could hear and feel them.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too. I wonder if he was mistaken and he was actually hearing Sarah. If he was sensing her pain and worry at how to carry out her plan.” 

“I hadn’t considered that,” she said quietly, looking down at the ground with a slight frown, then back up at him.

“Well, it’s just a theory.” 

“But that does make sense. In its own way,” she said as she shrugged. 

“What?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and smiling. 

“Don’t act so surprised. As if I don’t often agree with you,” she said and his smile grew as he nodded. 

“You must say it in your head then because I’ve not heard it much.” 

“Mmhmm,” she hummed and started walking again, watching him join her out of the corner of her eye. “So you think she healed him by thought? Persuasion? What?” 

“That is a question I’m afraid I don’t have an answer to, Scully,” he said, shaking his head. 

“Maybe it was through bright flashes of light like we experienced,” she said with a smile. 

“Flashes of light?” he asked, frowning at her. “You mean the candles you were using and the light glowing around Sarah?”  

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I meant the bright flash of white light that happened when we left wherever we were with her.” 

“Scully,” he said, placing a hand on her arm and stopping her. “There wasn’t a white flash.” 

“Yes, there was.” 

“No. There couldn’t have been. I didn’t see one.” 

“What? It nearly blinded me. You had to have seen it.” 

“No, I didn’t,” he said and she frowned. “Tell you what, tell me exactly what you remember and we’ll see if it’s the same.” 

“Okay. I remember being with Fauna and the others and seeing the candles glowing in turn. The one you were communicating to me with went out just as a light appeared in the forest.”

“A bright one?” 

“No. Well, not overly bright, but enough to draw our attention to it.” 

“Okay. What next?”

“I ran to it and-”

“Got attacked by nearly every tree in the place,” he said, nodding to her face. 

“No shit,” she said, touching her cheek and shaking her head. 

“So then what?”

“I found you… and Sarah. Wherever you were, I found you,” she said and he smiled and nodded. 

“But no bright flashes?”

“Not until you and Fauna convinced her to leave.” 

“When exactly?” 

“Just before she was gone. Fauna told her to find peace. You told her it was enough. That she had done enough and it was time for her to go.”

“I remember the conversation.” 

“She reached out to touch your hand,” Scully whispered and she was there again witnessing the sadness and worry on Sarah’s face. But then Scully had seen hope flash in her green eyes when Sarah had looked at her and smiled. 

“I think it will be enough,” Scully breathed. 

“What?” 

“That’s what Sarah said to me just before she touched your hand. Just before the bright light.” She looked at Mulder and he shook his head. 

“I remember all of that, but not the light.” 

“Then how do you remember coming back? If that’s even the right word?” 

“I… I don’t know to be honest with you. I know that wherever we were with Sarah felt thick and warm and then suddenly it was cold, the air a lot thinner.”

“The light was so bright, how did you not see it?”

“I don’t know. But none of the others mentioned a bright light. I suppose we didn’t ask directly, but I think that would be something they mentioned don’t you?” 

“Maybe they forgot? Maybe they didn’t see it because of the other things happening? The high blood pressure, the agitation… Maybe it was forgotten.” 

“Maybe,” he said with a smile, but her stomach dropped at the implications and her hand went to the back of her neck, feeling the spot where a metal chip had been placed when she had been on the brink of death. 

“Do you… do you think that it…?” she asked, her breathing increasing as she began to imagine the worst possible outcomes. 

“No,” he said, her eyes widening at the harsh tone he used. 

“It’s possible,” she said. “I could have-”

“No,” he said again, his tone softer as he pulled her arm down gently and replaced her hand with his own on the back of her neck. “I refuse to believe in any scenario in which that is possible. I will not hear it.” 

“Mulder,” she said and he shook his head, squeezing her neck tenderly. 

“I don’t want to hear it, Scully.” 

“But what if-” 

“No,” he said for the third time, his thumb rubbing her scar softly. He bent his head toward her and rested his forehead against hers, letting out a slow breath. “There are no scenarios where I will accept that.” 

She closed her eyes and wrapped an arm around his waist, his other arm going around her and they stood holding one another as families rushed past, calling and laughing to one another. 

He took her bag from her when they broke apart and she sighed. He crooked his arm, inviting her to take it, but instead she trailed her fingers down the inside of his forearm and took his hand, threading her fingers through his and nodding with a small smile. 

They continued on towards the restaurant, though the worry still lingered.  

“I’ll call and make an appointment in the morning, just to be completely sure,” she said softly and he squeezed her hand as he nodded. 

As she worried and tried to pretend that she was not and Mulder tried his damndest to make her laugh and bring them out of their funk, a healing was in fact taking place, but it was not one that either of them would have ever entertained. The thought of it, too raw and new. 

It was a healing that would take time and when discovered, would leave everyone with more questions than answers. Theories would abound and they would ignore and deflect each one. 

But one night they will know. 

Sitting on her couch, a pizza congealing on the coffee table and an old family keepsake beside her, she will smile as she covers his hand where it lays on her rounded belly and she will whisper Sarah’s name as she remembers and his wide eyes will meet her own as they remember.