Title : 'To Kill A Nightingale' 0/11 Author : phoenix99 (xphoenix99@hotmail.com) Web site: www.members.home.net/xerxes42/ Category: MSR, angst, X-File, **complete story** Spoilers: everything really... but particularly En Ami, Millennium, uhhh and the mythology in general. Timeline: occurs after the episode En Ami (or Chimera), but before All Things. PLEASE take into account what happens after those episodes since this story can be set right into the TV story line. Rating : NC 17 for language, violence, and of course sex Summary : a mysterious tip leads Mulder and Scully into a web of danger and unexpected twists. Have they found what they had always wished for? ... or is the price too high? Archive : anywhere is great, just keep my name attached. Extra : to see the cover for this story go to: www.members.home.net/xerxes42/Planet X/angel_cover.htm X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X I'd like to give a big thank you to Denise for beta reading this story. She was the only reason this story was ever finished... or even started in the first place. Her encouraging words and wonderful beta reading kept the whole thing together. I also want to thank TJ since it was her beta reading that saved the day and helped to get this story finished. X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X Author's notes: First of all, I'd like to dedicate this to all the people who are fed up with all the 'baby fic' I'm sure you've all been reading over the summer. (no offense to 'baby fic' writers intended) This story means a great deal to me, since I've been working on it for almost a year. Unfortunately, I have very little time to write, and had to struggle to even finish this story. Because of this, I am retiring from the world of fanfiction, this being my finale work (unless some fantastic circumstances change my mind). I hope that I will go out with a bang, and that everyone enjoys this story. Feedback is greatly appreciated, and will be answered. It will mean a lot to me to know what you think of this story. Ok, I'm done wasting your time... read on :-D X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X CHAPTER 1 X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X "Death makes angels of us all And gives us wings where we had shoulders, Smooth as ravens' claws." -'The Severed Garden', Jim Morrison X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X March 18, 2000 8:45 am Mulder's apartment The first thing Mulder heard was the sound of cars; engines propelling their occupants to their various destinations this Saturday morning. He awoke slowly, the residue of his dreams clinging to the edge of his consciousness, gradually drifting away until they were unrecognizable to him. They hung in his mind like the smell of smoke after a fire. Without opening his eyes, he rolled onto his back, willing himself back into sleep, trying to remember and bring back the beautiful dream. However it had dissolved into the flurry of thought and sensations brought on by awareness, and all that remained was the wonderful feeling it had left with him. He blinked slowly a few times, letting his eyes adjust to the bright sunshine filtering in through the blinds. The soft shadows in his bedroom were slowly disappearing as the room grew brighter in the morning sunlight. He hated waking up early on Saturday. He wished he could sleep all day, but the pattern he was in from the week made sleeping in almost impossible. When he did go back to sleep, he always woke up grumpy and mad at himself for letting the day slip away. Especially spring days such as this where everything looked bright and happy, and the temperature was comfortable and least oppressive. From the hall he heard the familiar clunk of the newspaper hitting his front door and knew that to be his cue to get up. With obvious effort he pulled himself into a sitting position, causing his joints to protest to the drastic change in position by popping unpleasantly. God, he hated that noise.... When his bare feet reached the icy floor his body shivered with disapproval but, seeing no socks in sight, he shrugged and stood up. He stretched his arms high above his head, letting out a grunt of satisfaction at the feeling. Mulder wasn't as young as he used to be, and as much as he tried to forget it, every morning he was reminded of that fact. Having some sense of decency, he slipped on a pair of jeans which had been laying on the floor near his bathroom with the rest of his clothes. At least when they were all in a pile they didn't get lost. Right on cue, his stomach began to growl with hunger, convincing him to leave his bedroom to scavenge his kitchen for whatever food he had. After a few minutes of banging cupboards and several checks of the fridge, he returned to his living room carrying a box of Corn Pops. Forgoing a bowl, milk and spoon, he shoveled handfuls into his mouth. Munching away, he passed through the living room to the front door, a few little yellow balls slipping out of his hand and dropping to the floor as he went. He set the box of cereal carelessly on a table near the door where it teetered precariously on the edge. He jerked the door open, and reached down to grab the paper, automatically glancing up and down the hall before retreating back into his apartment. Sure, he was still slightly paranoid, but a little paranoia never hurt anyone... most of the time. On his return to the living room he found himself stepping on several of the corn pops that he hadn't realized were littering the ground, leaving a trail of little piles of yellow crumbs from his door to his couch. Lifting one foot at a time, he brushed the sticky crumbs from his feet with the back of his hand. Looking down at the yellow crumb road he had made, he sighed. He knew he would have to clean it up fairly soon... just in case Scully showed up. Not that she showed up unannounced very often, but you know... just in case. The mess remained untouched; instead he dropped the cereal box on the coffee table and sank into his leather couch, grabbing the channel changer and flipping on the TV. He yawned as his eyes roamed back and forth between the news on TV and the task of unfolding the paper. The weatherman was some annoying guy who had what looked suspiciously like a uni-brow with the middle shaved off. With his curiosity spurred, the half-unfolded newspaper was crinkling in Mulder's lap as he leaned forward, squinting at the screen trying to see the guy's forehead better. It took about three seconds before he lost interest. Mulder's opinion of the Uni-brow man quickly changed from indifference to hatred when he told Mulder that the beautiful weather would be over by that night, and that everyone should expect a good three days of rain. Not thunderstorms, which were exciting and interesting, but drizzle... spit and drizzle. When Mulder finally glanced down from the weather man to the unfolded but now very crumpled paper in his lap, he was surprised to find that the bold letters that usually read 'Washington Post' had been replaced by 'The Albany Gazette'. There was also a yellow post-it note covering up part of the headline, which had the words 'TURN TO PAGE 4A' written on it in black marker. Puzzled, he glanced back up at his front door, even though he knew whoever had left this would be long gone; he decided that running out into the street half naked after a suspect who he had never seen was not something he had planned for that morning... as interesting as it sounded. Attempting to find the desired page, he fought briefly with the uncooperative paper. It bent and folded in on itself like an accordion as he tried to turn the pages, only making him more agitated. It was like trying to unfold a piece of Origami, and he swore briefly until it surrendered. Finally able to see the right page, he ran his eyes over it until he found a tiny article circled in red. 'Miracle Recoveries at St. Peter's Hospital' His eyes ran quickly over the small print. According to the Albany Gazette, people with incurable diseases were walking away in perfect health from St. Peter's Hospital. The hospital claimed they weren't using any special treatment, and they had no explanation for the recoveries. Some of the staff and patients were claiming it was an angel.... Some one was tipping him off. But who would do that? He hadn't received an anonymous tip for a while, and what was there left to tip about? Had the consortium not died in a flaming inferno, leaving the project exposed and destroyed? Was it someone he knew? Would they end up dead like so many of his previous informants? And, most importantly, why did they want him to investigate an angel? He assumed that it must have something to do with the microchip technology that Scully had been offered by CGB... that would explain the idea of an angel. Maybe someone was trying to approach them again, trying to give the technology directly to them to avoid anymore mishaps. Mulder glanced back at his door, then to the paper as he made up his mind. With a quick flick of his hand, he tore out the small article and grabbed his phone. X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X 1:56 p.m. Hwy. #87 5 Miles north of Washington DC "Who gave you the case?" It was a good question, one Mulder had been hoping not to hear, but had been expecting anyway. He didn't respond right away and Scully raised her eyebrows at him expectantly, waiting for his answer. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable under her scrutiny and swore under his breath as an old person driving a car the size of the Titanic cut off their blue Ford. Traffic was a real bitch. "It was drawn to my attention." He finally muttered, trying to sound casual and pretending to be concentrating more on the traffic than their conversation. "Really..." Scully drawled out suspiciously. He could tell by the tone of her voice that his obvious reluctance to answer her was only fuel for the fire, and her determination to find out what was going on was only magnified. "Care to elaborate?" Mulder chewed on his lip thoughtfully; she deserved an answer, but he wasn't sure how she would react to them following another tip. He decided honesty would be the best choice... "Well, I found an article circled in red in my newspaper." He reached into his pocket, pulled out the small article and handed it to her. She almost seemed disappointed that he had given up and told her so easily... he usually put up more of a fight. She unfolded the crumpled paper and read through it carefully before looking back at Mulder. Her question was obvious before it even left her mouth. "An informant?" her voice didn't quite conceal her surprise. "Seems we're getting popular again...." She nodded unenthusiastically. "Uh huh..." after a brief pause she added, "Does Skinner know about this?" "Well, no... he doesn't need to know. I don't think it would be a good idea to tell him about this. If anyone asks, we're just going on a little weekend excursion...." "This is why we're driving all the way to Albany?" Scully sound slightly annoyed as she waved the piece of newspaper at him. Mulder nodded insistently and she sighed. "...we couldn't have flown?" "There would be a paper trail if we took a plane." Mulder answered. Scully made no comment to that; instead she turned her attention back to the little scrap of newspaper she held, inspecting it again. "Mulder, how do you know we're not being used... again?" He had been expecting that question as well, or one like it. He knew what she was talking about, and it pained him to even think about it. He had always seen Scully as the one who would see through all the bullshit, who would not be led away or tempted. But he had been shown the horrible facts, that she really was human, that even she could be lured away by promises of knowledge and truth. She had even lied to him in an attempt to accept the gift offered by CGB, which had really bothered him, even though she had explained to him why she had done it, he still had trouble dealing with it. But how many times had he fallen for the same thing? How many times had he ditched Scully to go joy riding with their smoking 'friend'? He could no longer count the number of times she had hunted him down and hauled his ass out of trouble. But this time, when the tables had been turned, he had been unable to do the same for her. He hadn't been so afraid since two years earlier, when she had been kidnapped right out from under him--from his own damn apartment building. It was the same fear he'd felt when she had been taken from him by Donnie Pfaster; and when she had been abducted. Unlike the fleeting fear and aftershock of the sudden dangers they often found themselves in, the long drawn out agony of several days or months of not knowing what was happening or where, and not being able to do a damn thing about it was devastating. It was something he never wanted to experience again... but in their situation it was as natural as the rain, and truly inevitable. They hadn't really discussed what had happened, and he had not made an issue of it. He knew that they would only argue about it and that he would lose since he would only sound like a hypocrite. And besides... they both needed some time to absorb and process what had happened. But no matter how much he tried to rationalize and justify it, he could still taste the bitterness in his mouth that'd been caused by his discovery of the lengths she had gone to conceal herself. Though he believed what she had said about the tape she had mailed to him, he still felt a horrible sense of betrayal. Now he knew what it felt like, having your other half run off without a word. And the fact that someone had gone to such effort to stop all contact between them frightened him greatly. Alone they could not accomplish anything; they were vulnerable and unable to achieve the kind of brilliant leaps they could make when united. "I still thought we should check it out; it may have something to do with that microchip technology." Mulder explained, trying not to sound accusing. Scully nodded as she considered his statement. "What if this is a religious incident and has nothing to do with any new technology?" "I'm not sure.... Considering the way it was brought to our attention, I just don't know if it will play a big part in this. I mean, in the past all the investigations we've done that have started with a tip turned out to involve the government... or some part of it." He glanced from her back to the road as he explained. "You think we might be looking for another Jeremiah Smith?" Scully asked, He could tell she was baiting him; probably wondering how long it would take him to launch into the theory she surely thought he was dying to explain. But he was careful to keep his expression neutral and his reply noncommittal. "I don't know, it's possible... if it is another Jeremiah Smith then we may be too late. Someone like him would be very valuable, but all these people claimed they saw an angel, Scully--not an alien." He wasn't looking at her but he knew the look she was giving him. He knew it very well. "I'm disappointed Mulder, you usually have a basic idea about what we're looking for before I even hear about the case." Mulder just shrugged and smiled strangely, "What can I say Scully?" and continued to steer the car towards their destination, Albany, New York. X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X March 19 12:21 am The Pleasant Pheasant Motel Just south of Albany, NY The motel, of course was another dump. That was the only word that came to Scully's mind when they pulled up. The blinking half-burnt out neon light screamed 'dump', as did the huge pot holes in the parking lot and the wooden sign nailed to the door which said in faded multicolored letters: 'COLOR TVs!'. She couldn't wait to see what the inside looked like. "Mulder, isn't there anywhere nicer we can go to? Why do we have to stay at another dump?" Scully sighed tiredly. It wasn't like the case was in some lonely town out in the middle of nowhere, where the only place to stay was the equivalent of a tool shed... Albany must have some nicer motels than this place... "This was recommended on the Internet, plus it's really cheap and it's not like we'll be spending a whole lot of time here..." he reasoned, though Scully wasn't quite convinced. "Just once Mulder, to get to stay in a nice *hotel* with one of those little indoor water fountains in the foyer and a pool and a gym and room service..." Scully said whimsically as Mulder parked the car. He got out, then turned back to look at her, his expression playful. "Well, sure we could do that... but it'd be pretty expensive so we'd have to share a room..." he said suggestively before closing the door and wandering off to pay for their rooms, skillfully avoiding her irritated response. Mulder had been quick to get the keys, and to both their surprise the inside of the motel was in much better shape than expected. The furniture and fixtures were at least intact... though they may have been older than Scully, that was inconsequential. The place was relatively clean and livable, which was all that really mattered at that point. Scully had just tossed her bag on her bed when Mulder came through the connecting door. She had been hoping to get at least seven hours of sleep because she knew she'd need the energy to go on Mulder's treasure hunt the next day. It seemed he had other ideas though, like denying her sleep so he could come in and harass her a bit. "Hey Scully...." He said from the door excitedly. If he had been a dog his tail would have been wagging so hard his entire body would be shaking. This would be where Mulder revealed all their exciting plans for the next few days; that or someone had died mysteriously and she was going to have the privilege of 'chopping them up' as he often liked to put it. "Thanks for knocking," she muttered quietly. Mulder gave her a pointed look and Scully turned away from unpacking to give him her full attention. Well, at least a bit of it. "I phoned the Sheriff, and he said... ", Mulder made little quote signs with his fingers," 'I don't give a rat's ass 'bout what's happening at that hospital, just as long as there ain't no one breakin' the law.' So, he doesn't care what we do or where we go. We don't even have to keep in contact with him." Well that was good. Mulder always pissed off the local law enforcement and it always came back to haunt them. At least now he wouldn't have the chance to, unless he had already managed it in the few minutes he had been talking on the phone. Scully thought about that a second. Yeah, he could pull that off. She smiled and glanced back at Mulder who had stopped talking and was trying to figure out what he had said that was so funny. "What?" He asked, frowning. He looked down at himself and not finding anything apparently wrong, he gave her a confused look. "Nothing," she assured him, "Please continue." She was still smiling as she turned back to the task of emptying her suitcase. He waited for a few seconds, hoping that maybe she'd explain, but apparently she was intent on her unpacking, so he continued. "Anyway, I asked him if he had any information on what was happening and he said that all he knew about it was that the angel only visits people late at night, when staff and visitors are low...," he paused then added, "like at one or two in the morning." Scully nodded, trying to act as uninterested as possible so that he would leave and she could sleep. When Mulder did not leave she turned to him and raised her eyebrows. He just stared back at her expectantly. "So... what, --you want us to go out now? Mulder... It's after 12..." Scully was whining; she knew it, he knew it; it was all part of the script... their 'perfunctory dance', as he had once put it. So, like many times before, Mulder employed the only tactic he had against Scully's whining. She crossed her arms in an attempt to ward off his expressional attack, but his 'My dog just died' look was too powerful. She just couldn't stand that look. Scully glanced back forlornly at the bed. Sure, it was hideous and the mattress was probably all lumpy, but it looked so inviting. She could almost hear it calling her... 'Come sleep on me... I'm sooo comfy....' "Scully?" When she turned back to him, he obviously saw his victory in her expression, because his sad face turned into a grin. Point one - Mulder. Scully had decided to let him win this one. He had seemed more 'into' this case than he had been in a while, and not letting him have his way at this point would probably make him grumpy or give him reason to ditch her.... She had almost forgotten how his passion could take control of him, how he could get so into the case that common sense went right out the window. He was going after this case with the kind of enthusiasm he'd had when he was younger and didn't know much about the truth, back when he was still innocent. That seemed like such a long time ago. "I should have known..." she turned back to her suitcase, "Whenever you get a mysterious tip you end up running around like you've got a fire under your ass...." That earned her a smile from Mulder. "Just... let me have a shower first, ok? You might want to have one too." Mulder got a strange look on his face when she said that, and bent his head down to his armpit. After taking a deep breath, he looked back up at Scully who tilted her head slightly and answered his unspoken question, "--Because, knowing how things go with cases like these, we may not get back to the motel for awhile and I don't want to drive around with you if you smell." "I'm hurt.... You don't like the way I smell?" "Not after two days, no." She was getting her toiletries and her robe and he knew his time was running out. He wondered what she would do if he invited himself to join her.... "Yeah, well," he tried to think up some smart comeback, "you smell pretty bad after two days too." He said lamely, putting his hands on his hips and looking about as threatening as a five-year-old. Scully just dismissed him with a wave of her hand as she entered the bathroom. He stood there for a second, feeling lost now that he was the only one in the room. When he heard the water come on he left through the connecting door and it clicked shut behind him. He tossed his jacket on his bed and took off his tie. Loosening the first few buttons of his shirt, he confronted his reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. The man who stared back at him looked ruffled, like he had been in a car for one hour too many, or had possibly had a really rough night... and not in the innocent sense either. Of course it obviously was not the latter. How sad, he thought. Grabbing his bag, he started dumping it out, looking for some shampoo. He really should act more like Scully; when she unpacked her bag she always put things into neat little piles. Maybe if he did that he wouldn't lose everything all the time. He knew she was suspicious of his enthusiasm, since she hadn't put up much of a fight when he asked her to go with him to the hospital this late at night. He wasn't normally *this* excited about a case, but he was getting nervous about how little progress they were making at the moment. Hopefully this lead would produce something other than more unanswered questions and dead ends. He had to find something, anything, that would justify their losses and sacrifices. There had to be a positive result, something to harvest from all the destruction that had been caused. But maybe he was expecting too much; he always did that. He would always get his hopes up, then when something didn't work out his disappointment was that much more acute. If he could just keep his expectations low, then the constant disappointments would be easier.... Perhaps he would be lucky this time... This might be his chance at getting that much closer to that smoking son of a bitch, and maybe even Krycek. Nevertheless, the idea that there was something out there that was healing all these people made him excited. This might be the key he was looking for. There had to be a reason someone wanted he and Scully pursuing this. What if this... 'thing'; whether it was a chip, an alien, a person or an angel, it really didn't matter; what if it could heal *their* scars? What if it could erase all the evidence of the horror Scully had seen during her time with him? What if all the wrong that had been done to her could be reversed? Wiped away? That was all he would ask for, to heal her scars, even if it was only the physical ones. To take away the chip and any threat of cancer would be a godsend. Maybe even give her back her children. He wanted to level out the playing field, to recover all that she--that *they* had lost... Maybe they could start again... The chip.... It was supposed to be the cure to all disease, but how could they believe the words that came from the mouth of a liar? Was it worth it? Was the cure to everything worth the risk of being unwillingly led away from their homes to remote places, where they were torched and burned to death? Being controlled or affected without their knowledge? Health for freewill? No, the chip was not worth it. They had given Scully a blessing and a curse, and it was still there, hiding just beneath the surface. Always there but never seen. Mulder had stopped getting ready and stood still, listening intently to his partner in the opposite room. As in all motels, the walls were paper thin and he could hear her quiet movements with amazing clarity. If only it could happen that way, he wished. He realized the one thing that would probably go unrepaired was the emotional damage, but that required a different kind of healing. Something they both needed, but had long denied themselves. Maybe that was it. Maybe they needed to take the next step. But what could he offer her other than his love? Would that be enough? She deserved so much more.... There was a knock on the door and he started. "Mulder?... I'm done with my shower, we can leave in fifteen minutes if you're ready...," Scully's voice came through the connecting door. It sounded close but distant at the same time, like he was in a dream. It gave him a strange sense of deja vu. "Ok...," he called back, only just realizing he had not even begun to get ready. He looked back at the mirror. The image of a lost and desperate man, still holding a towel and a small bottle of shampoo stared back at him with sad eyes. This time, he determined, he would give her something back. X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X END OF CHAPTER 1 X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X Feedback always welcome at xphoenix99@hotmail.com