Sandcastles

Summary: What if one event caused your life to take a different
fork in the road.

This was written for the Church of X monthly challenge for
February 2000.

Disclaimer: The X-Files name, concept, recognizable characters,
etc. belong to the surfer dude, FOX et al, not me. I’m just
borrowing them for fun, not profit. Just remember folks, imitation
is the highest form of flattery. Any similarity to other fanfics, real
people or events is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

Archive: Church of X. I’ll post anywhere else.

Dedication: As always, to the wonderful talent of David
Duchovny.

Feedback: medusafox@bigpond.com

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

It was a situation that Fox Mulder had found himself in more times
than he felt comfortable with. Fighting his way back from the
depths of unconsciousness. His body felt heavy and sluggish, he
could hear the beeps of the heart monitor and the hushed voices
of people around him, it was as if they were echoing down a long
tunnel. He felt disconnected. Straining to make sense of the
voices was difficult. His sluggish mind searched for the one
familiar voice that he could anchor himself to, but it was strangely
absent. So he slid back toward the comfortable darkness.

“I think he’s trying to wake up,” one of the figures in the room said.

“I’ll go get the doctor,” came the answer.

The man leaned over the bed. “Fox, Come on, Fox. Wake up.
It’s time to wake up.” He gently shook the sleeping man’s
shoulder, encouraging him back to the land of the living.

The constant nagging voice seeped into his dark world and slowly
he was dragged back to the light, back to the real world. He
moaned, throat dry from disuse. His eyelids fluttered and slowly
opened, eyes struggling to focus. When they did, he couldn’t
believe what he was seeing.

“Come on, son. Wake up.” Bill Mulder’s voice was gently
encouraging, and tears glistened in his eyes as he watched his
son struggle to come to full wakefulness.

“Dad?” Mulder croaked.

“Yes, Fox. I’m here.”

“Nooooooo,” he moaned. “You’re… dead…..” He barely
whispered before closing his eyes and willing himself back to the
darkness. He struggled to remember how he got where he was,
and came up a blank. It was too hard to try and focus, so Mulder
gave in to the comfort of the darkness.

The doctor appeared a moment later.

“He woke up, mumbled a few words and slipped back into
unconsciousness. He seemed to recognize me.” Bill reported
excitedly.

The doctor checked the monitors and made notes on the chart.
Bill Mulder watched as the doctor poked and prodded at the form
in the bed, eliciting a grumbled response.

“He’s certainly a lot more responsive, I think he’ll wake up
properly soon. Just be patient a little longer, Mr. Mulder.” The
doctor gave a reassuring smile and left Bill Mulder watching over
his sleeping son.

***********

Waking up the second time was easier but no less confusing.
Mulder opened his eyes to find his father still in the room with him.
This couldn’t be real, but the hand that squeezed his felt real. This
had to be some kind of elaborate hoax and this man that looked
like his father had to be a shape shifter, sent along to….. do what?
Mulder’s mind was foggy enough without trying to rationalize it all.
Part of him wanted what he was seeing to be true, but something
told him this was only a dream.

“Dad? Is that really you?” He asked softly, his voice cracked and
dry.

“Yes, Fox. I’m so glad you remember me, although I guess I must
have changed a lot.”

Mulder frowned without commenting. A very realistic, but
confusing dream. “Thirsty,” was all he said.

Bill helped him to sit up a little by adjusting the head of the bed
and poured some water into a glass. He held the straw up to his
son’s lips and Mulder swallowed a small mouthful of cool liquid
gratefully.

Mulder struggled to clear his thoughts. “Where am I? What
happened?”

“You’re at Boston Memorial Hospital. You’re going to be just fine,
now. You’re home.”

“Home? I don’t… Where’s Scully?”

Bill looked confused. “Scully? Who’s Scully? Don’t you mean
Samantha?”

The shock must have registered on Mulder’s face. Samantha??
Now he knew it had to be a dream, or a trick, but trying to sort it
out in his mind was like wading through quicksand.

Mistaking Mulder’s frown for total confusion, Bill Mulder sighed.
“I’m sorry. This is probably too much for you all at once. There’s
just so much to catch up on, I hardly know where to start. The FBI
have sent some people to talk to you when you feel up to it, they
want to know if you can remember anything about where you’ve
been all this time.”

“Where *I’ve* been? I don’t know what you’re talking about.
What the hell is going on?” Mulder’s head was beginning to
pound. This was no dream, he realized with a sinking feeling. It
had to be a Consortium trick. He looked up at the IV fluids being
pumped into him. He had to assume that they were drugging him,
but why? What did they want with him?

“It’s all right, son. I don’t want to tire you out. We’ll take this
slowly. I’m just so happy to have you back, that you remember
us.”

“I’m fine, Dad.” Even with the fog clouding his mind, Mulder was
cautious enough not to give too much away. He picked at the
tape holding the IV cannula in his arm. “Can we get rid of this? I
hate needles.”

“I’ll talk to the doctor about it, and I’ll tell the FBI agents they’re
going to have to wait a while longer to talk to you.”

“NO.” Mulder half sat up quickly and just as quickly found himself
back on the pillow, his head swimming, eyes clenched tightly shut;
“No. I want to see them.” The sooner he had an idea of what
these people wanted from him, the sooner he could plan his
escape.

“If you’re sure you’re up to it?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He rubbed one hand wearily over his face. “I
want to talk to them.”

“All right, I’ll call them.” Bill got up and left the room to make the
call.

Fifteen minutes later, the nurse reappeared and told him that he
would have to endure the IV for a while longer. She took his
vitals, made notes on the chart and left him alone with his jumbled
thoughts.

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

When the FBI agents were eventually allowed in, Mulder gaped at
who they were. The dark haired female agent came to stand
beside the bed and introduced herself and her companion,
showing him her ID.

“Mr. Mulder? My name is…”

“Diana?” He gasped.

“Well, yes, Special Agent Diana Fowley,” the dark haired woman
appeared a little nervous. “This is my partner, Agent Spender.
We’d just like to ask you a few questions if you’re up to it.”

Mulder glanced across at his ‘father’. He didn’t want to say too
much in front of him, or Spender, since he suspected that they
were definitely ‘in’ on whatever was going on around here. Maybe
now he could get some answers out of Diana, unless she was with
Them too.

“Sure, but I’d like to talk only to Diana, alone.”

Agent Fowley looked surprised at his use of her first name.

Bill Mulder didn’t appear to be upset by the request, just a little
concerned. He nodded. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,
Fox.”

Mulder looked pointedly at Jeffrey. “*All* alone, if that’s okay with
you.”

Spender seemed a little taken aback, but complied anyway. As
soon as the door closed, Mulder turned his full attention on the
female agent.

“What the hell is going on here, Diana?” He hissed at her, sitting
up (dizziness be damned) and grabbing her wrist.

Diana Fowley startled at the sudden movement. She pulled her
hand from his grip. “Mr. Mulder, I’m afraid I don’t know what
you’re talking about. I came down here to see if you could give us
any leads on your abduction, to where you’ve been all these
years.”

“My… abduction? Where I’ve been?” He shook his head, fighting
the thick-headedness. “Diana, for God’s sake, stop playing
games! You know me! You *know* where I’ve been. Just tell me
what the fuck is going on here. Are They watching?”

Agent Fowley looked at him with sympathy in her eyes. “Mr.
Mulder, I’d like to help you, to find out who took you from your
family, and I promise you I’m going to do my best to find out.
Why don’t you start by telling me the last thing you remember
before waking up here?”

“Diana, please! You have to help me. Tell me what they want
with me!” He begged. His mind was swirling with the dizziness
and a mounting panic. How could she betray him like this?

A little panicked herself, Diana tried to pacify him by changing
track, “Please just stay calm. Can you remember anything about
when you were abducted?”

“I wasn’t abducted. What did they offer you, Diana? Why are you
working for Them?” His agitation and fear made his voice rise.
The heart monitor beeped wildly in tune with his racing heart,
despite his best efforts to remain in control.

“You don’t remember being abducted from your parents house
when you were twelve?”

“NO! You’ve got it all wrong, and you know it. Samantha was
abducted. Diana, *why* are you playing along with this?” He
demanded again. If they were being watched, she was playing
her part beautifully. But couldn’t she give him *some* clue that
she knew it was a trick?

“Mr. Mulder, I can see that you are somewhat confused. I don’t
know what happened to you, or what you remember of the last 25
years. It’s amazing that you even remember your family. But the
reality is that you were found a week ago, in a raid the FBI did on
a cult stronghold. You were identified by your missing persons
record.”

He was tiring quickly, this was too much. He couldn’t think
straight, his head was swimming, pounding in time with the
beeping monitor. What the hell was happening here? Terror
gripped at him like a physical presence until Mulder thought he
was going to pass out. Oh God, Oh God, ohgodohgodohgod. This
couldn’t be real.

“They’re trying to trick me, make me think I’ve lost my mind. Why
are they doing this to me? What do they want?” He looked
furtively around the room, trying to detect any hidden cameras.

He screamed at the unseen faces, “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU
WANT WITH ME YOU BASTARDS?” The room seemed to gray
out. He was vaguely aware of others rushing back into the room.
He suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe and he gasped for air.

There were noises, people talking urgently to one another, but he
couldn’t understand the words. Someone forced him back down
flat, a female voice was trying to soothe him, telling him to take
deep breaths. It wasn’t working.

Blind panic made Mulder fight off the hands that held him. “Nooo,
let me go!”

Stronger hands held him down and rolled him onto his side. He
felt the sudden sting of a needle in his hip and he screamed out.

The drug acted swiftly, his breathing slowly calmed to shuddering
gasps and he felt the fight leave him as he lost the ability to
control his body. Hot tears began to fall. He silently cried out,
“Scully, help ME. God, *please* get me out of here.”

Bill Mulder watched his son slide into a sedated stupor, then he
turned angrily on Diana.

“What the hell did you say to him?”

Somewhat shaken by the display she had just witnessed, Diana
stammered. “I... I just asked him what the last thing he
remembered was… and about his abduction. He became upset,
he wanted to know what was happening to him.”

“I should never have left you in here alone with him! I assure you
it won’t happen again. Now I suggest you leave.” Anger turned
his voice icy.

Diana was about to speak again, but Spender put a hand on her
arm. “Come on, Diana. I think we should go.” He turned to Bill.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Mulder.”

*******

When Mulder woke again the room was dark. Night time, but he
had no idea how many hours had passed. He had a horrible taste
in his mouth, a side effect of the sedative. He stirred and became
aware of a presence beside him. He could smell perfume.

“Scully?”

“Fox?”

Not Scully. She didn’t call him ‘Fox’. A cool hand stroked his
forehead gently. He sighed and opened his eyes, focusing on the
face before him. “Samantha?”

She smiled at him. The most beautiful smile he’d ever seen, bar
one.

“Yes, Fox. It’s me.”

“Oh God.”

She couldn’t stop the tears as she reached for him and pulled him
into her arms. “It’s all right, Fox. I’m here and you’re safe now.”

He clung to her tightly, willing this part at least to be true. He
could accept what They were doing to him as long as this was the
*real* Samantha and she was safe.

Finally the tears stopped and he looked deeply into her eyes. “It
is really you, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is, silly,” she sniffled as she wiped her face with a
Kleenex and let him settle back against the pillows. “Are you
thirsty? The nurse said you should try to drink a little water.”

He nodded and watched her, intently absorbing her image as she
poured fresh water into his glass and held it for him.

“I can do it myself.” He grumbled trying to take it from her with
shaking hands.

“You haven’t changed much.” She laughed as she allowed him to
hold the glass while she still supported it. She paused a moment
before speaking again. “I thought we’d never get you back. I’ve
missed you so much.”

He swallowed the water quickly, a small dribble escaping down his
chin and allowed her to take the glass back.

“I’ve missed you too.” Mulder hesitated, not quite sure how to ask
for what he wanted next, but somehow sure in his muddled brain
that it was important. Aware of the unseen eyes being ever
watchful, he whispered urgently to her, “Samantha, I know that
what I’m gonna ask you next is going to sound strange, but I need
you to do something for me.”

“Anything, Fox. What do you want me to do?”

“Have you got something sharp, a pin or a needle, or something?”

Samantha looked puzzled. “I think so. Why?”

“I want you to prick your finger.”

She looked incredulous. “You want me to… what?”

“Please. Do it for me. I know this sounds crazy, but I have to
know you’re you.”

With a little shake of her head, Samantha went over to her purse
and rummaged through it. She came up with a little portable
sewing kit and pulled the needle out. After a moments hesitation,
she stabbed her finger. “Ow.”

“Let me see.” Mulder reached for her hand. He examined the red
blood oozing from the wound and sighed with relief. She wasn’t a
clone or an alien shapeshifter.

He let go of her hand and she sucked the blood away. “You
wanna tell me what that was about?”

“I can’t. Not yet,” he sighed as he relaxed a little. “There’s
something else I need you to do.”

“What, Buttmunch?” She sighed exasperated. He smiled at the
familiarity of the nick-name.

“I need to get out of here. I want you to help me get to
Washington DC.”

“Fox… I can’t. The doctor said you’re not strong enough to leave
yet. Maybe in another few days…”

“No. Now. Please. It’s important.”

She shook her head. “No, Fox. You’ve been very ill, you don’t
know how close…”

He begged, “Please? I need to contact some friends of mine
there.”

“I won’t help you get out of here until the doctor says you can
come home. I won’t risk losing you again, not when we just got
you back.”

Exasperated, he rubbed his face and tried to think what else he
could do. “Ok, then I’ll get myself out of here.”

Mulder sat up and leaned over the safety rail of the bed,
searching for the release mechanism. He was determined to get
out of there, come hell or high water. This simple act made him
dizzy again. He shook his head to clear it. Big mistake. The
room spun wildly and he groaned. Samantha grabbed his
shoulders and eased him back to the pillows.

“What do you think you’re doing? I don’t think you’re ready to get
out of bed yet.”

“I’m fine.” He spat, angry with his body for letting him down. “I
just need you to help me. Please, Samantha. I need to get back
on my feet.”

Reluctantly, and after a minute or two of deliberation, Samantha
lowered the rail. Secretly Fox was glad of the pause while she
thought it over, it allowed him time to get his equilibrium back.

“Okay, but just for a minute. I’m sure this is a bad idea.” But she
was going to do it anyway.

He determinedly swung his legs over the side of the bed and
pushed himself up to a sitting position. The dizziness returned
and he fought to control it. Holding onto Samantha’s shoulder for
support, he gently slid off the bed. His feet touched the floor but
his legs refused to hold him. He continued to slide and was saved
from becoming a puddle on the floor by his sister’s strong arms
holding him.

“Oh God, Fox. This was a bad idea. Worse than that stupid rope
swing in the tree.” She struggled to haul him back onto the bed.
He was able to help a little and was soon laying pale and
exhausted against the pillows again. He was panting with the
exertion, beads of cold sweat trickling from his brow, and inwardly
cursing at his weakened state.

After a minute his breathing returned to almost normal. “What
rope swing?” he asked.

She smiled, “Don’t you remember? The one I fell off and broke
my collar bone.”

At his look of alarm, she continued. “It’s okay, I never told Dad
that *you* made it. I stuck with our story that it was already there,
built by someone else.”

“I… I remember.” He shivered involuntarily. This was one piece
of information that he *knew* he’d never told anyone, only he and
Samantha knew. He was absolutely certain that Samantha had
never shared this secret as a child either, they’d both been too
scared, then, of the consequences. He desperately wanted to
believe this was the *real* Samantha, but he need more proof
before he could trust her entirely.

Heartened by his response, She continued with her trip down
memory lane. The more tales she recounted, the more Mulder
found himself believing that this was really his sister. He lay in
the bed, contentedly listening to her drone on. Suddenly she
stopped talking and stared at him.

“Oh, oh god, Fox I’m sorry… I didn’t want to upset you.”

He wondered for a moment what she meant, until her hand on his
cheek brushed away a tear that he hadn’t noticed had slipped
silently down. She leaned forward and pulled him into another
tight embrace.

“I’ve missed you *so* much,” she breathed into his ear.

She was crying too, now, and suddenly great sobs burst forth from
Mulder’s chest and he howled into her shoulder like a child,
clinging desperately to her. It was like a dam had burst and all the
pain he’d felt over the years was released. It was overwhelming,
he was sure this really was his sister.

Finally, they pulled apart, both hiccuping, their faces and
shoulders wet. They looked at each other, eyes searching deeply
into each others for the truth. Then they both broke into giggles,
followed soon by almost hysterical laughter. God, this was so like
their childhood days.

“It *is* you, Sam. It really *is* you.” He gasped out eventually.

“Yes, Fox. It’s me. And you’re finally home.”

“Home…” Mulder’s joy at finding Samantha was suddenly
overshadowed by thoughts why he was here. He frowned.

“What’s the matter?”

“I… Nothing.” He drew a shaky breath and couldn’t meet her
eyes.

“You’re tired. I should let you rest now.” She made a move to
leave.

“No. Wait. Samantha, I really believe that you are you. But I
have to know why I’m here, what They want from me. I need you
to help me get out of here.” The strain of the last hours caused
his headache to go from merely annoying to a fully fledged
migraine. He massaged his temples and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Fox? Are you all right?”

He forced his eyes open. Samantha was looking at him with a
worried frown on her face. “Yeah. I’m fine, I just have a
headache.”

“I’ve tired you out too much. I have to go now, but I’ll be back
tomorrow afternoon to see you.” She kissed his forehead
tenderly. “See you tomorrow. Be nice to the nurses.”

After Samantha left, Mulder found himself starting to doze. He
didn’t want to sleep, but he was mentally exhausted. A nurse
came in carrying a little paper cup and her entrance made him
instantly alert.

She handed him the paper cup and looked into it suspiciously.

“What’re these for?”

The nurse picked up the glass of water and held it out to him as
he inspected the pills in the container.

“Your sister said you had a headache, so the two big ones are
Tylenol. The red and yellow capsule is an antibiotic to help clear
up the last of an infection you had in your chest when you were
admitted, and the little blue one is a mild sedative.”

He shook the pills into his hand and deftly scooped the sedative
back into the cup. He dropped the cup onto the bed and held out
his hand for the water. The nurse held it back.

“You have to take all of them. Doctor’s orders. You need to rest.”

“I can do that without being drugged.”

The nurse gave him a stern look, picked up the paper cup and
tipped the offending pill into his palm with the others.

“We can do this the easy way, or I can put it in your IV.”

Mulder gave the nurse a sour look and dropped the pills, one at a
time into his mouth, so she could see he’d got them all. She
handed him the water glass and watched him take a sip and
swallow with exaggeration. He tried to hand her back the glass.

“You need to drink more of it to keep up your fluid levels if you
want to get rid of that IV.”

Damn. That ruined his little trick of sorting the pills with his
tongue and tucking the little one into his cheek so it wasn’t
swallowed. He could hold it there to be spat out later if he had
only one mouthful of water, maybe two, but not a whole glass. He
drank the water obediently and was disappointed to find the pill
had indeed gone down despite his best efforts to prevent it.

The nurse smiled at him. “Good. I know you may not think you
need the sedative, but you’ve had an emotional day. You must
get enough rest or you can’t hope to get better quickly. You *do*
want to go home, don’t you?”

That word again. Home. The ‘home’ that contained his father and
sister? The ‘home’ they were trying to make him believe in? Or
the ‘home’ that held Scully, Skinner and his whole life? He didn’t
want to wait around for them to decide for him. He was getting
out of here, just as soon as he could stand up on his own. He felt
the sedative begin to take effect and slipped into a dreamless
sleep.

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

Mulder slept well and he felt a whole lot better for it. In the
morning, he felt more alert, stronger and yes, even hungry.

A new nurse came in to the room and opened the blinds. The sun
was up and it promised to be a nice day.

“Good morning. My name is Debbie. How are we feeling today?
It’s nice to have you awake at last.”

Mulder had the distinct feeling she was talking to him as if he
were a pre-schooler instead of an adult. “I dunno about you, but
*I* feel fine. Actually, I’m kinda hungry.”

“Well, that’s a good sign.” Debbie continued to breeze about the
room, she cranked the bed up to 45 degrees, fluffed his pillows,
checked the IV, took his pulse, temperature and blood pressure.
She poured a half glass of water and handed it to him. “Think you
can manage to drink all that? Take it nice and slow. Doctor
wants you on fluids only until later today, then we’ll see about
getting you something light to eat.”

“Then can *we* lose the IV?” He asked hopefully.

To which Debbie smiled a toothy smile and said, “We’ll see what
doctor says.”

He finished the water and wanted more, but Debbie told him he
should wait a little while before drinking more. She explained, in
simple language that was really starting to piss Mulder off, that he
should drink regularly, but to pace himself and tell them if he felt
sick. She also promised him a glucose drink or juice for
breakfast.

Mulder spent the rest of the morning putting on a good show of
being a good patient, all the while plotting his escape. He
endured a sponge bath, drank plenty of water, took the hated pills,
rested and channel surfed on the TV.

At lunch time he was given some broth and pureed fruit. It was
disgusting but he ate it anyway. He needed to get his strength
back and he was hungry. He slept until Samantha arrived, waking
as she kissed his forehead.

“Hi, sleepyhead.”

“Hi.” Mulder eyed the grocery bag she held. “What’s that?”

Samantha peered conspiratorially at the door before leaning down
and stage whispering, “Contraband. Hershey bars, all flavors.”

Mulder reached for bag and Samantha snatched it away.

“Uh uh. Not yet. They’re for when you’re allowed to eat solid
food.”

“Sam,” he protested. “I’m starving. I’m sure they’re purposely
starving me to death.”

His sister laughed. “Of course they’re not. You just need to take
it slowly. We don’t want you getting sick. Especially on my
contraband Hershey bars.” She tucked the bag into a drawer in
the bedside cabinet. “You’re looking a lot better today. Dad will
stop by later, and I think they want you to talk to a shrink. Think
you’re up to it?”

“Samantha, I don’t need a psychiatrist. I just need to get out of
here. Have you thought any more about helping me?” Mulder
spoke in hushed tones so they wouldn’t be overheard.

“Fox… I don’t know,” she glanced nervously at the door.

Frustration crept in again, but Mulder kept his cool. He sighed,
and gave a little smile, “It’s okay, if you won’t help me, can you at
least not rat on me?”

Indecision still warred on Samantha’s face, but she turned to him,
“It’s against my better judgment, but count me in. Where do you
want to go?”

Mulder’s relief was palpable. “I need to get to DC. There are
people I need to get in contact with.”

“Why don’t you just call them?” The indecision was creeping
back.

“I can’t trust the phones. Please, Sam. I really have to get out of
here.”

Finally, she seemed to make her mind. “You’ll need some
clothes. I’ll come back tonight… God, Dad’s gonna kill me for
this. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Never surer. Thanks, Sam.”

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

Bill Mulder’s visit came and went. Mulder felt awkward trying to
make conversation with a man he knew to be a fake. He still
feigned memory loss, while trying to glean information on why he
was being held. It seemed odd that they hadn’t pushed him for
information - if that’s what they were after. If this elaborate
charade was simply to get him out of the way, why go to so much
bother to try to make him believe in it. Nothing made sense.

By 9.30 that night, Mulder was concerned that his sister wouldn’t
show up. The same night nurse brought in his medication, but this
time Mulder managed to avoid the sedative without her noticing.
He needed to be ready to leave as soon as Samantha got there.
As soon as the nurse left the room, he pulled the IV out and got
out of bed. He’d steadily felt stronger all day and was confident
he wasn’t going to fall on his ass again. He’d even eaten some of
the candy left in the drawer to build up his energy levels. It had
left him feeling a little queasy, but nothing he couldn’t cope with,
and the sugar rush was worth it.

Just as he was about to give up on her and sneak out in his
hospital gown, Samantha slipped in the door.

“Sorry I’m late. I had to wait until the floor was clear. They’ve got
an emergency down the hall.” She thrust a set of sweats and
some sneakers at him, “Quickly, get dressed and let’s get out of
here while they’re still busy.”

Mulder didn’t need telling twice and was ready to go in seconds.
They crept out of the room and made it into the stairwell without
incident. Samantha led him downstairs and out through the main
lobby to her waiting car. By the time he collapsed into the
passenger seat, Mulder was shaking with the exertion.

“Are you okay? Maybe we should just get you back to bed.”

“NO! No, I’m sorry,” he lowered his tone. “I’m fine, honest. Let’s
just go.”

“DC, right?”

Mulder nodded and they were off. They’d only been on the road a
half hour and he found himself fighting sleep.

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

Mulder woke when the motion of the car stopped. Blearily he
noted that they’d pulled into an all night diner. The thought of
food and hot coffee jolted his brain into gear. He looked across at
Samantha. She looked exhausted and that made him feel guilty
at having slept for… he looked at the dashboard clock… three
hours?

“Hey, sleepyhead. Hungry?” She asked good-naturedly.

He nodded. “I’m sorry, Sam. You’re tired, you should have
woken me and I could have driven for a while.”

She laughed, “A couple of hours out of the hospital and you think
you’re Superman. You needed the sleep more than I did. We’ll
stop here, gas up the car and ourselves, then maybe we could
find a motel for a few hours.” When Mulder started to protest, she
cut him off. “No, Fox. You’re not driving - and I’m too tired to go
much further. We both need to rest. Besides, what good will it do
getting to DC even before the sun is up? It’s not polite to go
calling on *anyone* until after breakfast at least.”

Mulder conceded her point as they made their way into the diner.
Besides, he wanted to stop by his apartment and change into
some decent clothes.

They ate a hearty meal, Samantha made sure that he didn’t eat
anything too greasy and made him have hot chocolate rather than
coffee. Mulder was a little tired of her mothering him, but he bore
it stoically. They found a small motel five miles down the road
and stopped. Mulder suspected that the manager didn’t quite
believe that they were brother and sister, but he’d said nothing as
he gave them the key to the room.

Despite asserting that he really wasn’t tired, Mulder was asleep
within minutes of hitting the pillow. He dreamt of strange places,
of people he didn’t know, of a life that had nothing to do with
reality. Samantha woke him at 5 o’clock and they hit the road
again. They’d be in DC by 9am.

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

Mulder directed Samantha through the streets of Alexandria until
they reached Hegal Place. Home… thank God. Mulder had a
need to be in his own clothes, to reassure himself that he was who
he was, and not some figment of his own imagination.

He knocked on the door to the building manager’s apartment. He
stared when it was opened by a stranger.

“Can I help you?” asked the man.

“Uhh, yeah. Is Mr. Redkin here? I haven’t got my key and I need
to get into my apartment.” Mulder gestured towards the elevator.

“Your apartment? I don’t remember seeing you around here
before, buddy.” The manager started to close the door and
Mulder pushed back against it.

“No, wait. If you’ll just get Mr. Redkin, he knows me. My name is
Mulder, Fox Mulder. I’ve lived here for the last nine years, in
number 42.”

“Look pal,” the manager was getting a little cranky now, “I don’t
know who you are or what game you’re playing, but Mrs. Kowalski
has lived in number 42 for the last six months. And Redkin was
manager here before me, three years ago. Now, I suggest you
get lost before I call the cops.” The door was firmly closed in
Mulder’s face and he didn’t resist this time.

“Are you all right, Fox?” Samantha asked from behind him.

Mulder turned slowly around, confused. “This has got to be one of
their tricks.”

Mulder went to the door of apartment 12 and knocked. It was
answered by gray-haired old lady. Mulder sighed in relief.

“Mrs. Goldberg, I’m glad you’re home…”

“Whatever you’re selling, sonny, I don’t want any.” The old lady
slammed the door.

Mulder pounded on the wood in frustration. He yelled, “Mrs.
Goldberg! Please, it’s Fox Mulder from upstairs. I need to find
Mr. Redkin…”

The door opened as far as the chain would allow again. “What do
you want with Mr. Redkin? God rest his soul.”

“He… he’s dead?” Mulder stammered.

“Gone three years, come June.”

Mulder did a quick calculation in his head. No, it wasn’t possible.
Three years ago in June Mulder had come in late from work and
he’d found Mr. Redkin in the hallway, bleeding from a stab wound
he’d received chasing two young thugs away that had tried to
break into his apartment. There’d been no-one else around so
late and Mr. Redkin would have surely died if Mulder hadn’t been
there to call the paramedics.

Samantha grabbed his arm to steady him as the blood drained
from his face. Mrs. Goldberg was about to close the door again.

“No, wait, please Mrs. Goldberg. Please. You have to tell me if
you know me.”

The old lady squinted at him through the narrow gap in her door.
“Nope, can’t say as I’ve ever seen you around here before.”

“Think Mrs. Goldberg. I found a stray cat in the alley nearly six
years ago and you took him in.” The old lady shook her head.
“You called him Boots, because he had two white feet…” Mulder
was desperately pleading with her.

“Sorry, son. I don’t have a cat. They’re not allowed in the
building.”

Samantha pulled on Mulder’s arm. “Come on, Fox. I think it’s
time to go.”

Shell-shocked, Mulder allowed his sister to pull him out of the
building and back to the car. As he sank heavily into the
passenger seat he wondered what the hell was going on.
Samantha climbed in behind the wheel and buckled up.

“Are you ready to home now?” She hoped that this wild goose
chase had come to an end and she could take her brother back to
the Vineyard.

Mulder took one last look at the building he’s called home for so
long. He ground his teeth together in frustration.

“No. I want to go downtown. To the J. Edgar Hoover Building.
They can’t have gotten to everyone.”

Samantha sighed, bit back what she was about to say and started
the car. They drove in silence until they pulled up in front of FBI
Headquarters. Mulder was out of the car almost before it stopped.
He marched into the building and straight up to the security desk.
He didn’t recognize the officer on duty.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“Yes. My name is Fox Mulder. *Special Agent* Fox Mulder. My
badge number is JTT047101111. I don’t have my ID on me and I
need to see Assistant Director Walter Skinner or Special Agent
Dana Scully.”

The guard tapped the numbers into his computer as Mulder
danced impatiently in front of the desk. Samantha hung back
watching.

“Sorry, sir, that number is incorrect. What Field Office are you
from, I can make a phone call and get your clearance details.”

“What do you mean, it’s incorrect. It’s not. And I work here, in
this building, in the basement. I run the X-Files division.”

The guards expression went from curious to incredulous.

“The basement? Look, sir, I think it best if you just went on your
way.” The guard gestured to the main entrance, throwing a look
across to another security guard standing nearby.

“No! I need to see Skinner! Please, can you just call him. He’ll
vouch for me. It’s important.”

“Skinner?” The guard repeated.

“Yes.” Mulder tried to remain calm. “Assistant Director Walter
Skinner. His extension is 9024.”

Again the guard tapped on his keyboard and waited for the
information to come up.

“*Deputy Director* Walter Skinner is in New Orleans on a
conference. He won’t be back until next week.”

“Deputy Dir…” This just got stranger and stranger. The blood
pounded in Mulder’s ears and he fought down the mounting panic.
“Okay, then Dana Scully.”

With thinly veiled impatience, the guard once again tapped the
information in.

“We *do* have a Special Agent Dana Scully…”

Mulder breathed a silent prayer of thanks to whoever might be
listening.

“But she’s based down at Quantico. She’s the Assistant Chief of
Pathology. You’re in luck, though, she’s in a meeting with
Assistant Director Colton. If you’d like to wait, I can have a
message sent through that you’d like to see her.”

At last! “Yes, please. How long do you think she’ll be?”

“I can’t answer that, I’ll see if AD Colton’s secretary knows. Just
take a seat and I’ll let you know.”

Mulder went over and sat on the plush seats in the waiting area.
Samantha followed him with her eyes and went over and spoke
briefly with the guard before going to sit beside him.

‘What’s going on, Fox? Why do you think you know these
people? They don’t know you.”

“They do,” he breathed. “They have to.”

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

For twenty minutes Mulder paced up and down before he finally
caught sight of a familiar red-head standing at the security desk.
The guard was gesturing in his direction. Mulder rushed over to
Scully excitedly. Just before he reached her he was grabbed by
the guard who had been standing in the foyer. Scully jumped
back in surprise.

“NO, let me go!” Mulder struggled against the big man. “Scully,
it’s me, Mulder.”

The petite woman looked at him carefully. “I’m sorry, do I know
you?”

“Scully! Quit fooling around. We’ve been partners for seven
years, of course you know me.”

Scully’s eyebrow raised in surprise. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken,
Mr…. Mulder, was it?”

Mulder fought earnestly in the tight grip of the security guard,
trying to break free but he was held fast.

“Come on, buddy, time to go.” The guard half dragged the
struggling Mulder towards the main entrance.

“SCULLY!!!! Scully, help me!” Mulder screamed.

With one more huge effort, Mulder broke free of the guard’s grip
and dashed back towards Scully. Two more security guards
appeared and one dropped Mulder with a flying tackle and held
him down while the other one grabbed his flailing arms and
slapped on the handcuffs.

Samantha came rushing up. “Please, don’t hurt him.” Tears
brimmed in her eyes. “He’s just confused, he doesn’t mean any
harm.”

Mulder continued to buck and struggle as he was lifted to his feet
by the two guards. They half carried him off towards the security
office with Samantha following. Mulder continued to scream
Scully’s name, begging her to help him.

Just before they turned the corner out of view, Mulder stopped
screaming as his breath caught in his throat. Tom Colton had
appeared beside Scully. He had his arm around her and was
comforting her. Scully’s hand, her left hand, was rubbing at her
forehead and Mulder could plainly see the wedding band and
huge engagement ring on her finger. All the fight left him
suddenly.

“No… No,” he moaned. “It can’t be…”

The guards pushed him into the security room and sat him down
on a hard chair. He could hear Samantha explaining how he’d
been missing and had just been in the hospital, that it had been an
emotionally draining few days, that she was sorry for all the fuss.
He heard her mention their father and ask if she could call him so
they could make ‘arrangements’. He heard her speak to Bill
Mulder, tearfully saying she was sorry for helping him, that she
understood now that the doctor was right, that Fox wasn’t well,
that he needed help to readjust.

It didn’t matter anymore. His head was pounding with the sudden
realization that this was no trick, this was real. He almost laughed
out loud as the scene from “Planet of the Apes” rolled through his
head, the scene where Charlton Heston found the Statue of
Liberty laying in the sand and realized that he really was on Earth.

He sat there in the hard chair, his head resting against the wall,
hands cuffed behind him, until paramedics arrived a short while
later. Samantha asked them to wait a minute and came to squat
beside Mulder’s chair.

“Fox? Can you hear me?”

He looked down at her. She was crying.

“Fox, these men are going to take you to the hospital. It’s going to
be all right, you’ll see. Daddy’s making arrangements for us to get
back to Boston, but right now you need to stay calm and do as the
medics tell you, okay?”

Mulder eyed the two men and then the stretcher they had brought
in with them. The guard came over and undid the handcuffs as
the paramedics moved towards him. As soon as he was free,
Mulder tried to bolt from the room. The security guards quickly
subdued him again, but instead of being handcuffed he felt the
waistband of his sweatpants pulled down slightly, then a sharp
stab as a needle bit home. He screamed and cried as the drug
started to take effect, then felt himself lifted and strapped down
onto the stretcher.

Slowly, the numbness crept into his body, into his mind. He let
himself slide away to that place on the beach where the little boy
waited for him. He had all the time in the world now to build
sandcastles that looked like spaceships.

Finis

Back to Medusa's FanFic listing