Written August 1996
Synopsis: When Scully discovers who killed her husband, she decides to avenge his death in the only way she knows how–kill the murderer. Sequel to “Reunited.”
Disclaimer: The characters you recognize belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Television. No infringement is intended.
abandoned warehouse on the Atlantic Ocean
April 25, 2007
Am I dead? Dana Scully opened her eyes slowly, carefully. The gunshots she had heard caused her to jump. She glanced around the room, which was suddenly brighter. She felt a release of pressure on her left hand and saw Fox Mulder running.
Standing in the doorway, shaking like a leaf, was Samantha Mulder. The woman dropped the gun and embraced her brother, whom she had not seen in thirty-five years.
Scully turned her eyes to the ground. There lay two men, both dead. She looked back up at Mulder and his sister. Convinced that she was not dead or in any danger, she dropped to her knees and wept in silent relief.
The police arrived soon after and arrested Alex Krycek, charging him with kidnapping three people. The rest of them were taken to the hospital.
“No, no, Mom, I’m fine, really.” Scully sighed. Her mother, Maggie, was always overprotective. “No, just–Mom, li–Mom!”
“Now, Dana, I just want to make sure you’re okay,” she declared wearily.
“I know, and I’m fine. The doctors checked me out. I have a small concussion, and no one else fared much worse.” Except maybe the dead guys. “How’s Adam?”
“He wants to know when Mommy and Daddy are going to be home.”
Scully could hear the smile in her voice. After four years, Scully had admitted to Mulder that he was the father of her son. She had expected Mulder to be upset, but he was ever-loving. Even cheerful, despite the dreary situation they were in. She didn’t know what to do. “We’ll be home soon, with his aunt, Samantha.”
“You found her?” Maggie asked.
“Yes. And she’s fine. A little weak–apparently, Krycek was pumping her full of morphine and other drugs, but she’s recovering.”
“What are you going to do, Dana?”
“I don’t know.” She spotted Mulder heading her way. “I’ll be home soon. Tell Adam I love him.”
She hung the phone back up, not immediately acknowledging Mulder’s presence. Then she looked up at him. “How’s your sister?”
“Everything is a-okay. They’re giving her a quick examination. We’re supposed to take her back to Washington and have her undergo a complete physical. How’s your mother?”
“Nervous,” she chuckled. “She was very worried. But everything is fine now.”
He kicked invisible dust up with his shoe. “They took Krycek to state penn. He’s not even getting a trial. They’re hoping he’ll tell them how he got Samantha, but I doubt even he knows.”
“Oh, he knows, all right. He knows a lot of things.” Her eyes narrowed involuntarily at the thought of Krycek ordering a man to kill her husband, Frank Kwan, two years ago. He knows who killed him. And I have to find out. I owe it to Kwan. She sighed. A hand rested on her shoulder, and she looked up at Mulder, his heart in his eye.
She nodded. “Good. He wants to know when we’re coming back.”
“Well, as soon as they release Sam, we’ll head out.” He paused. “Scully, I–” He stopped short of what he was going to say. What was I going to say anyway? I don’t know what to say to her.
She smiled. “We’re all a little confused now, Mulder. What we need is some sleep.” She walked down the hallway and disappeared around a corner.
“I love you,” he whispered softly.
Once she had rounded the corner, Scully stopped and let out a long breath. She didn’t know why she was suddenly so afraid to be alone with Mulder. Less than two hours ago, she was madly in love with him. Was it because I was going to die? she wondered. No, don’t say that, Dana. I love him, I just don’t know what to do, how to act around him. She sighed once more and headed over to the small lounge area. She scrounged through her pockets for loose change and bought a cup of coffee from a vending machine.
She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting, but when Mulder arrived, her cup was half empty and whatever coffee was left was cold. “Hi, Scully.” He sat next to her on the couch. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. What’s going on?”
“I was going to check us into a hotel.”
“They found one of our little silver implants in Sam’s nose. They removed it and want to keep her overnight for observation.”
“So let me guess–you think it was an alien abduction?”
“Where else could she have been for 35 years?”
Scully sighed. She didn’t really want to get into this. “Someone–like Krycek–could’ve kidnapped her.”
“And you think he would’ve kept her for that long? No, the only explanation is alien abduction.” He paused. “Sam will remember in time.”
“Maybe someone brainwashed her.”
“I think someone brainwashed you,” he replied defensively. “After all we’ve seen, and you still don’t believe?”
“Mulder . . . I’ve spent the last five years doing rational things. Having children, getting married, working as the FBI’s director. I haven’t had time to think about the paranormal because I’ve been basing my life on the here and now–what’s on the earth at this present time. And those things I based my life on was Kwan and our son.” She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “You’re still chasing shadows. You still base your life on what you consider the truth. Mulder, you have to stop. The truth–the real truth–is right in front of you.” She stood up and walked off, throwing her cup in the garbage on her way.
He followed. “Scully . . . Scully, I’m sorry.”
She stopped and turned around, a smile forming slightly on her lips. “After all these years, you’re still obsessed with aliens and UFOs. What compels a man like you to chase them?”
“The same thing that compels a woman like you to be rational.” He grinned broadly. “Birth order.”
“Oh, poor Adam! I hope he has my common sense.”
“He’s already got my imagination.”
She nodded. “I noticed.”
He traced his finger along her jawline. “I’m sorry.”
He kissed her quickly. “Come on, let’s go. I’ll buy you dinner, and we’ll go to the hotel and get some sleep, okay?”
“Sure.” She kissed him longer. “Now I’m ready.”
He hugged her fiercely, as if he was going to lose her. “I love you,” he mumbled into her hair.
“Yeah, because I love you, too.” She smiled and took his hand. “Come on, I’m starving. That food Krycek fed us in prison was hardly edible.”
They drove the car graciously loaned to them by a police officer to a small diner just outside of Dover. They took a cozy booth near the jukebox and ordered a meal fit for a small army: two double bacon cheeseburgers with the works, a large order of cheese fries, two milkshakes (chocolate for Mulder, strawberry for Scully), a pitcher of diet Coke, a basket of mozzarella sticks, and a banana split for dessert. The petite waitress with the blonde ponytail gave them a disbelieving look upon delivering the food.
“So tell me, Scully, what do you know about Adam?”
She frowned, the cheeseburger just inches away from her mouth. “I birthed him. What do you want to know?”
“Anything.” He smiled slightly. “Everything. What’s his favorite food, his favorite color, his favorite superhero, his idol.”
“Potatoes, blue, Superman, you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Me?” he asked softly.
“Yes. As soon as he was old enough to understand, he’s known that Frank wasn’t his father, that you were. He says that he’s dying to meet you.” She chuckled. “I’ll bet he’s dying for you to come home, too.”
“So what does he know about me?”
“Everything.” She rolled her eyes. “Whatever I could tell him. I showed pictures, old home videos–”
“Oh, the ones we made that one rainy afternoon in March?”
“The very ones.”
He smiled in recollection of the day. He had gone over to Scully’s for lunch, and it had started to pour. Not wanting to go out in the storm, he had stayed with her. They had found the video camera her mother had bought her that had hardly been used and decided to see what they could do. It had turned out to be a humorous day, one that neither of them had forgotten.
“He really looks up to you. You and Kwan were his only heroes.”
“What about you?”
“Me? A woman hero?”
“Well, sure. I’ll bet that he looks up to you more than he does to Kwan and me put together. I bet he just can’t tell you.”
“Mmm, a shame.” She took a few bites before continuing. “Anything else?”
“Well, geez, Scully . . . everything. Does he have many friends, does he like school, has he shown any signs of abnormal behavior?”
“Are you suggesting our son is a serial killer?” She cocked her head. “Are you hiding a double life from me?”
He grinned. “That’s not what I meant. It was a joke.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, frowning. “He has lots of friends, making and keeping them very easily. He loves school. Bill picks him up when I can’t–which is usually. Whatever time Adam and I have together is treasured. Bureau life is tough.”
“So what about your brothers? How are they doing?”
“Bill retired early so he could spend time with his wife. Charlie and Medley are still happily married. Harmony has gone off and gotten married to a rocket scientist in Cape Canaveral, Florida. Aria and Melody are in college now, they’re both freshmans.”
“Didn’t they have other children, too?”
“Yes, four more.”
“Well, Harmony, Aria, and Melody were all from Medley’s first marriage. They had Valerie first, then the twins Jeremy and Matthew, and . . . Melissa.”
Mulder knew that she still missed her older sister, who had been murdered over ten years ago. “I’m sure she looks just like her.”
“Who, Melissa? No, she looks like Medley. She looks like Medley a lot.”
“So how old are they now? I remember them all . . . I think.”
“Oh, dear, let me think . . . Val’s 11, Jeremy and Matt are 9, and Missy’s 5. You haven’t met Missy. Medley was still pregnancy when you left. Well, you’ll have to visit them. They still live in Washington. Let’s go sometime, okay?”
“Sure. They are, after all, related to me.”
She frowned. “They are not.”
“Well, they’re not, but my son is their cousin. So–kind of.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re awful. Your photographic memory is worse than mine.”
“You don’t have one.”
“I rest my case.”
He shook his head. “That was low.”
She finished her cheeseburger without answering any more questions. But when she started on the basket of French fries, Mulder spoke.
“Do you think Adam will accept me as his father?”
She stopped, shocked. “What do you mean?”
“I haven’t been here for him since he was born and–”
“I don’t see how you can ask that.” She made a face. “He loves you, Mulder. He wants you as a part of his world as much as–” She stopped before saying ‘me.’
She smiled slightly. “When I called Mom, she said that Adam couldn’t wait for his mommy . . . and his daddy to come home.” She made eye contact with him. “He wants to be with you.”
He grinned. “Then let’s get a move on, shall we? Hurry up, eat.”
She frowned. “What about Samantha?”
“I’m going to see if I can pull some strings and get us all home early.” He shoved a few more fries in his mouth and went to hunt down the waitress.
Back at the hospital, Mulder was successful in getting the doctors to release his sister. Scully still wasn’t sure it was the best thing, but with her medical expertise, she was able to convince the doctors that Samantha would be in good hands. Which was true, of course. But her house was far from the efficiency of the hospital.
Scully glanced at her watch. It was nearing eleven-thirty. It would be a long drive home.
She turned to see Mulder and Samantha standing side by side. She was amazed at their similar appearance. Sam had dark brown hair. It was straight and went halfway down her back. Her eyes were triangle-shaped like Mulder’s and were the same color. She was trim and tall, like her brother. But to Scully, anyone over her petite height of five-two was tall. Samantha must’ve been about five-ten. Her smile was friendly but cautious, much like Mulder’s. Like brother and sister. “Hi, I’m Dana Scully.” She reached out her hand, and Sam took it.
“Samantha Mulder.” Her voice was pleasantly melodic. It was easy to listen to. “Thank you for taking care of Fox, more or less.”
She grinned. “Hardly. He never listens to me.”
“I do to,” he scoffed. “Now don’t give me a bad rep.”
“Bad rep? A little late for that, eh, Mulder?”
Samantha raised an eyebrow. “Fox, you’ve been bad? You always seemed to be the one to turn out intelligent and strong-willed, always doing right.”
“But I am, Sam. Scully hasn’t seen the new me yet.”
She shook her head with a chuckle. “I’ll bring around the car.” She walked off.
Mulder hugged his sister. “I’ve missed you, Sam.”
“I’ve missed you, too, Fox.” She took his hand, and they headed for the front door. “Dana seems nice.”
“She is. You and she are the only reasons I’m still here. She kept me level-headed. Without her, I’d–” He shrugged. “I don’t know where I’d be.”
“Hopefully you’d be all right.” She sighed. “Fox?”
“When we get into Washington, what’s going to happen to me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, from what you’ve told me, I was abducted by . . . ” She swallowed hard, afraid to say the words. ” . . . aliens. What are they going to do to me?”
“They’re not taking you away from me. We’ll do whatever it takes, Sam.” He embraced her again. “Whatever it takes until you remember what really happened to you.”
Margaret Scully’s home
“Mom.” Scully nearly fell into her mother’s arms.
“Oh, Dana, I’m so glad you’re okay.” She looked her daughter over. “You are okay, aren’t you?”
“I’m just really, really tired, that’s all.”
“Mommy!” Adam Scully came running into the foyer in his pajamas.
She dropped to one knee. “Hey, Adam.” She hugged him tightly. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” He kissed her quickly. She tousled his sandy brown hair, and he giggled.
A few voices from behind made both of them turn. Mulder and Adam looked at each other. The older of the two dropped next to Scully. “I–” He couldn’t find the words, felt the tears begin to sting his eyes.
Tentatively, Adam put a hand on his shoulder. “Dad?”
Scully began to sob, standing up as they hugged. She covered her mouth, embarrassed at her outburst but unable to stop.
Margaret turned to Samantha, who was watching with a childlike awe. “You’re Fox’s sister, aren’t you? I’m Dana’s mother, Maggie.”
She glanced at her, then quickly looked back at her brother, who was also crying quietly. “That’s his son?”
“Yes,” she replied quietly, noting that her daughter had left the room. “Why don’t I make you some coffee, let them catch up on lost time, and I’ll have Fox explain it when he’s ready?”
She smiled, feeling tears fill her own hazel eyes. “I’d like the coffee please.”
“Of course.” She went into the kitchen and found her daughter crying miserably. “Dana?”
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “Mom, what happens now?”
“Whatever feels right.” She put a hand around her. “Go home, all four of you. Sleep it off. Call me in the morning.”
September 17, 2006
Scully paced the living room so much she was worried about wearing a hole in the floor. Frank hadn’t come home yet. He was always home before ten-thirty every night, or at least he called, saying he would be late. But not tonight. The phone hadn’t rang, there was no message at the bureau or on the answering machine, and Frank wasn’t home.
“Oh, chéri, where are you?” Dana picked up the phone. Earlier that evening, she had called her husband’s place of work, the U.N. building. ‘No, we’re sorry, Frank Kwan left a few hours ago, about nine-forty five.’ That damn secretary. She dialed her mother this time. “Mom?”
“Dana.” It’s four in the morning. “What’s wrong?”
“Mom, Frank didn’t come home tonight.”
“Well, maybe he was working late.”
“I called already. There was no work at the bureau either. Mom, this isn’t like him. Something wrong.” It hit her, and she sobbed. “Do you think he’s–he’s cheating on me?”
“Dana Kate, don’t be foolish. Frank loves you more than life. He would never cheat on you.”
“Then where can he be . . . ?”
It wasn’t until two days later, on September 19, 2006, that they found him. He had been shot in the temple and had been found in his car at the U.N. building.
Identifying the body had been the hardest thing in Dana’s life. And it wasn’t even difficult. She knew that sable-colored hair, those small but cute facial features like she knew the back of her hand. But she would never forget the look of death on his face when they found him in the front seat. Thankfully his eyes were closed, but it didn’t stop her from feeling horrible and haunted. Hollow inside. He was dead, and there was nothing left.
The police said it appeared to be suicide–he was holding the gun. It was possible. ‘No, it wasn’t,’ Dana had wanted to say. But she was so upset that she cried uncontrollably for five days straight. Adam, just three then, didn’t know what was happening, but he was taken to grandma’s for a few days, and Mommy didn’t come along. He just assumed she was working as she often did.
But it was much more. She fell into a pit of despair over his death. All she did was cry when she saw his picture, heard the amusing answering machine message they had recorded together, heard his name spoken, listened to their wedding song. Even when his face appeared in her thoughts.
It had been Frohike, one of Mulder’s kooky friends, who had brought her out of it. He appeared at her house, the day after his funeral–her worst day ever. He had an apple pie in his hand and a sorry look on his face.
“Dana, how are you feeling?” He stepped inside and hung his hat on the rack.
She sniffled. “As well as can be expected.”
“You know you can’t go on like this forever.”
She glared at him. “Don’t tell me how to run my life.”
“I’m not. It’s just that . . . Adam has been with Maggie for nearly a week now. The only time you saw him was at the funeral, and I don’t even think you saw him. You’re so wrapped up in your own grief that you can’t function any more. Kwan’s death was a tragedy; it shouldn’t have happened. But it’s irreversible. Nothing you do will bring him back.” He paused to study her expression. She was paying attention–still sobbing but listening. “I only knew Kwan for four years. He was a great guy. And I know that he wouldn’t want you like this. He would want you to move on with your life. After you found out you were pregnant, Kwan helped you deal with the fact that Mulder wasn’t there. You got over that.”
She soon realized that all he said was true. Frank would not want her to be this way–ever. She began to cry again, but it was not over Frank. It was over herself. “Oh, Frohike,” she wailed, “what am I going to do?”
“Cope.” He took her into his arms gently, letting her cry.
A few days later, Dana was doing much better. Adam returned home, no questions asked. He knew where his second father was, and no one knew where his first father went, but neither of them would be around for quite a while.
Life went on as expected. Few changes occurred around their home. Adam did notice, however, that the answering machine message had been changed, and most of his second daddy’s pictures had been turned over. One day, before school, he went into his mother’s room where she slept and sat all of the frames upright. Then Uncle Bill came and took him to school. When Dana awoke, she sensed that Adam had been there. And when she saw the fixed picture frames, she was positive of it. It seemed like everyone was telling her to move on with life. So she did.
Scully flew upright in bed, panting heavily. She’d had that dream again, the one with Frank in it.
In her dream, she returned to the day she had identified her husband’s body. Only when she saw him, his beady black eyes that she once thought were gorgeous were open, gazing at her evilly. And then he started to move.
She didn’t know why she was still having the dreams–nightmares was probably a more appropriate word. Frank’s eyes were never open, and he wasn’t alive when she identified his body. There was no way. Yet this dream plagued her night after night, month after month–she’d been having them since his death. They were torture, she was sure of it. She figured it was Kwan’s way of telling her to avenge his death. Which was exactly what she intended on doing.
A figure appeared in the bathroom doorway. She pulled the covers up to her neck, briefly frightened by the stranger in her home. Then she realized who it was. “Mulder, what are you doing up?”
“I heard you scream.”
Scream? She gulped. “Oh.”
“Are you okay?”
“You’re sure?” He crossed the room and sat next to her on the bed. “You sounded really scared.”
“It was just a bad dream.”
“What was it about?”
She hesitated. She didn’t want him to know, yet she needed some comfort. She gave him a quick hug. “Go back to bed, Mulder. How’s Sam?”
“Fine. She didn’t even wake up. I guess this is the first good night’s sleep she’s gotten in 35 years.” He kissed her forehead. “You’re sure you’re all right?”
“Okay, okay, I’m going. Get some sleep, all right?” He walked out of the room.
the following morning
“Come on, Fox, go on.” Scully tried to push the Great Pyrenees out the door, but her dog wouldn’t budge from its steadfast position, woofing softly. “Will you just go outside, please?”
He jumped up on her, almost reaching her height. He licked her face and barked. She put his front paws back on the floor. “No, Fox. Just go outside.”
She heard someone walk into the room, and she turned. “Adam. Hi, honey.”
He smiled sleepily. “Where are you going, Mommy?”
“I have to go to work. I’ll be back later, I promise.”
“Okay. Is Daddy here?”
“He’s still sleeping but–”
“No, I’m up.” Mulder walked into the kitchen, yawning and stretching his arms above his head. Scully eyed him yearningly, then shook her head in dismissal. She watched as he bent down and swept Adam into his arms, the boy giggling. “And you’re up, too!”
“Yep, I’m up!” Adam reached the floor again and hugged Mulder’s legs. “I think I need to go back to bed. Good night!” He hurried back up the stairs.
Mulder looked down at the dog, whose tail was wagging uncontrollably. “No, don’t you slobber on me again. I’m not making the same mistake twice.”
Fox finally decided to go outside, and Scully closed the door quickly to make sure Fox couldn’t change his mind. She sighed. “Thank goodness.” She went over to the now full coffee pot to pour herself a cup. “Do you want some?”
He snaked his arms around her waist. “Not the coffee.”
She managed to turn to face him only to be pulled into a long and well-needed kiss. She could feel herself beginning to relax and forced herself to break away. “Mulder, we can’t, not with Adam and Samantha here . . . ”
“It’s not like they don’t know what we’re doing.” He ran his lips along her jawline. “Adam’s smart, and Sam probably still remembers the birds and the bees from grade school.”
“But–” She stopped trying to fight it, sighing softly. When he tried to slip her out of her coat, she cleared her throat, hands pressed firmly against his bare chest. “Maybe later. I really have to go.”
“Where are you going?” he asked, reluctant to let go, knowing she would put off any physical confrontation for as long as she could.
“Work.” All this lying would get her into trouble sooner or later. Then an idea came to mind. “I’ll be unreachable.”
“What are you doing?”
“It’s classified,” she lied carefully.
“Ah, I almost forgot what fun bureau work could be.” He released her. “Okay, but don’t forget to come back.”
She raised an eyebrow. “‘Don’t forget to come back’?”
“Well, yeah, in case you get sidetracked.”
“I’ll be back later this evening. Try not to destroy the house. Being a single parent who works, cares for a child, and cleans house tends to be a pain.” She smiled slightly, making her way outside.
Delaware State Penitentiary
“You have a visitor.”
Alex Krycek sneered at the tall, large guard and steepled his fingers. The person who entered was very familiar looking. “Oh, it’s you. I thought it might be someone important.”
Scully folded her arms across her chest. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Well, it’s not too much of a disappointment . . . ” He eyed her legs conspicuously.
She glared at him, her eyes growing dark. “Okay, Krycek, here’s the deal. You tell me who killed my husband, you get your sentence shortened.”
“From what? The death penalty to three life sentences? Uh-uh. No can do.”
“Right now,” she began through gritted teeth, “you have twenty years with no parole for your confession of keeping Samantha Mulder hostage, assuming the judge isn’t bribed. I think I can get it shortened to . . . ten without.”
“Five, and we have a deal.”
“F–five? Are you out of your mind? No one would go for that, especially Mulder.”
“Who said Mulder would have to know?” He stood, pushing the chair back with his legs, and leaned across the table to face her. “You’ve lived with a mystery for a little over eight months now. Who killed Frank Kwan and why? Why would anyone want to kill your poor husband?”
“You wanna answer that?”
“Think about it, Scully. You’re the director of the FBI, and you can’t think of anyone who might want your husband dead?”
She sighed. He was getting on one of her last nerves. “No. Can you?”
“Let me think. He was a Frenchman who joined the KGB. There’s one reason someone might want to kill him. Another–he turned his back on the KGB and worked against them. Plus he was a walk-in for the FBI and then had the nerve to return to Russia. There’s quite a few.”
“You haven’t given me names, Krycek.”
“You haven’t given me five years, Scully.”
They stood there, their eyes locked in a hateful gaze. She was the first to break it. “I’ll try to see what I can do.”
“I’ll try to remember who pulled the trigger.” He smirked as she walked out of the cell.
End of Part 1