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.
900 W. Georgia St.
Scully scoffed. “Crazy? You killed my husband, you son of a bitch.” She clicked off the safety and took aim.
Cancerman, as he had been called ever since Mulder had met him, had never faced an insane woman before. He couldn’t get to his gun; she had him pinned to the wall next to the door. “I don’t know you or your husband.”
She cocked her head quizzically. “Frank Kwan. Frenchman. Worked for the KGB but assisted every government office in Washington, including the FBI, where you frequently visited. He worked at the United Nations building as a diplomat–I don’t know how he got that job. And one day, he never came home.” She sniffed. “Because you shot him, made it look like a suicide, and left him in the front seat of his car. Now tell me you don’t remember that.”
“I never did it.”
“Oh, yeah? I suppose you didn’t beat up Alex Krycek either, did you?” She glared at him. “No, you didn’t. You must’ve hired someone else to do it. But you pulled the trigger with Frank, didn’t you? Tell me something. What did he say to you when you killed him? Anything? Anything at all?”
“As a matter of fact, he did.”
That was not an answer she expected to hear. She raised an eyebrow.
“He said, ‘Why?’.”
Her scowl deepened. He was just messing with her head, trying to make her feel sad, make it seem like he was suffering from a guilty conscience. But it wouldn’t work. Not this time. She owed this to Frank, to herself, so everyone could rest easier.
And then the door flew open.
She quickly changed her aim and shot at the wooden facing around it. The person who had opened the door slowly stepped inside.
“Mulder!” She sighed. “What in the hell are you doing here?”
“I came to stop you from doing something stupid.”
“What’s that?” she asked, adjusting her aim at Cancerman.
“From wasting a bullet on this guy.” He went up to her side. “Scully, don’t do it. It’s stupid. He’s not worth it. You’ll go to jail for the rest of your life.”
“But I’ll be rid of him.”
“No, you won’t. You’ll just be giving in. Scully, listen to me.”
She didn’t even look at him, still staring at Cancerman. Mulder noticed her stance; it was exactly the same one she used over five years ago while preparing to shoot at a target. Only this target was live.
“Dana, Krycek’s dead.” He noticed both Scully and Cancerman’s expressions change.
“Dead?” she repeated. Her new expression did not last long; the angry scowl returned. “You killed him, too,” she said quietly to Cancerman.
“No, don’t,” Mulder pleaded. “Just listen to me. Jail is not where you want to be. It’s not where I want you to be. I want you to come home every day after work, come home to Adam, Sam, and me. Don’t do it. Just call the police and have him arrested.”
She thought about his words. She wasn’t really sure if killing Cancerman would ease her conscience, cause the nightmares to cease. Adam really did need her, Samantha could use a woman figure in her life, and Mulder . . . in all actuality, she needed him. And Frank . . . what would he say to her if he was still alive? She didn’t know for sure, but she was absolutely positive that he wouldn’t tell her to kill him.
“This is for you, mon cher.”
Mulder held his breath. What’s she going to do? Please, please don’t kill him.
Scully clicked the safety back on and lowered her gun. “Call the police.”
10 minutes later
The police arrived, and Sgt. Hutchence asked Scully a few questions. She and Mulder stood under an umbrella, his arms wrapped around her, while she watched Cancerman being led in handcuffs to the police car.
Suddenly, two gunshots rang out, and everyone ducked. Police pulled out their guns, and Scully stiffened, recalling the incident merely five days ago. She looked back out into the rain, but Cancerman was no where to be found.
Angered, she ran out into the storm, Mulder calling something out. And then she saw him.
Red blood mixed itself with the rain as Cancerman lay fallen on the sidewalk. The officer was checking for a pulse. He looked up at Scully as she stood over them. “He’s dead, ma’am.”
She felt no remorse. She was glad he was dead, glad that someone had avenged her husband’s death . . . but who? Who had fired the two shots?
Who had fired the two shots before?
Scully turned to see Mulder standing beside his sister. The woman shivered in the rain, a gun being taken away from her and handcuffs being slapped on. She hurried over.
“What happened?” She saw Samantha, her face emotionless. “Oh, Sam . . . ”
“Why did you do it?” Mulder asked. Scully could see him getting upset, but he was holding it in very well.
“He was . . . he was there,” she whispered. “He was there, while Alex held me captive. He came and did . . . horrible things to me.” She shuddered at the thought. “And I remember him in other places, too . . . He was everywhere, Fox.”
“But how did you know it was him, that this was his house?”
She let out a long breath. “I did it for Dana.”
Scully covered her mouth. “Sam–”
“I did it for you because I knew you couldn’t do it yourself! This man who killed your beloved husband deserved his death. He should not have caused you so much pain. I couldn’t stand to see you suffer. So I went to your room, found your spare gun, and came here.”
“You didn’t have to, Samantha,” she replied, sobbing softly. “He was going to go to jail.”
“But he’ll get off! He will be released eventually. You would never be free of guilt until his death.”
Scully knew it was true. She never would feel like she had avenged Kwan’s death until the murderer was dead, too. “Sam . . . ” But she didn’t know what to say.
The officer grabbed her arm. “Come on.”
Samantha looked at her brother as she was led off. “Fox . . . please don’t hate me.”
“I could never hate you,” he whispered quietly, his face tightening as he tried not to cry.
Scully watched the car drive off with Samantha in the back. She looked up at Mulder and took his hand.
His tears fell as hard as the large raindrops, landing in puddles on the ground.
two months later
Scully unlocked the door and stepped inside, Mulder and Adam close behind. They had just returned home from visiting Samantha.
When she was arrested for killing Cancerman in early May, she had given a statement saying why she had done it. The prosecution read over her case and decided that jail was not the answer; a rehab center was the best option. “They just think she’s insane,” Mulder had commented sourly afterwards.
But that was not the case. The center Scully had hand-picked for her was wonderful. The doctors and nurses were the best in the country, and the facility was comfortable. Sam would be there for a year at least, and whether or not any longer would depend on her progress.
Adam ran up to the answering machine. “Oh, there’s a message.”
Scully smiled. “Well, press the button and see who it is.”
He pushed it and listened for the voice. “Hey, Mulder, this is Fred Robbins. They want us in New York City for the release of our book on Monday. Think you can fly up here in a hurry? Call me when you arrive, and I’ll book you a room. Bye.” The dial tone appeared.
“Daddy, are you going to leave?”
Mulder nodded. “Remember how I was writing that book on UFOs?”
“I’m going to have to leave to be there when it first gets on the shelves at the bookstore.” He looked at Scully. “Think you can come?”
She shook her head. “No. I have to work. Do you want to take Adam?”
Adam’s eyes lit up with glee. “Oh, please, can I?”
“Well . . . ” He weighed the decision and grinned. “I’m sure it’d be okay.”
“Yea! I’m gonna go pack.” He raced up the stairs, the dog on his heels.
Mulder smiled after him, then turned to Scully. “I’m sorry you can’t go. I really would’ve liked you to be there with me.”
“I know; I would’ve liked to go.” She sighed. “Better make your flight reservations.”
When he was finished, he found her sitting on the couch, looking . . . upset, maybe? Nervous? He wasn’t sure. “Try not to miss us too much.”
She grinned and took him into her arms. “Promise to call me every day.”
“I will.” He squeezed her tighter. “Something bothering you?”
“Well . . . there is something I need to tell you.”
She took a deep breath before continuing. “Mulder, I’m . . . I’m pregnant.”
His eyes grew wide with surprise and lit up like lightbulbs. “You–pregnant?” He put his hand gently on her abdomen, and a grin spread across his face. “A baby?”
“Not a baby . . . two babies.”
He nearly fell off the couch. “T–*two* babies?” he stuttered.
She tried not to laugh at his shocked expression. “My mother is a twin so there was always the possibility that Missy or I would have twins as well.”
His lips moved, but no sound came out. Then he kissed her. “We’re going to have babies.” He laughed joyously. “Adam!” he yelled. While he waited for him, he thought about the situation. I’m going to be a father–for the third time! Maybe now would be a good time to ask Scully to marry me. He saw Adam coming. No . . . I want to make it special. And it might help to have a ring when I ask her . . . He grinned at the thought.
“What is it, Daddy?”
She looked at her son with a smile. “Adam . . . pretty soon, you might have a baby brother or sister.”
“Or both!” Mulder added cheerfully, hugging Scully tightly.
Adam hurried to his parents and plopped on the couch between them. “I hope it’s a boy.”
“I’m having twins,” she told him.
“Oh, I hope it’s two boys!” He kissed both of their cheeks, and the three of them joined in a large hug.
Scully felt the tears rush to her eyes. Her family was together now, as a whole, with more coming on the way. She could finally go on living.
And, in a way, she had Samantha to thank for all of it.