Title:  Nothing Important 5:  Trust No 1

Author:  Vickie Moseley

Summary:  My personal rewrite of Season 9, the saga continues.

Spoilers:  Existence, Gethsemane, Redux II, Emily 

Category:  MSR, MA, SA

Disclaimer:  I'm pretty sure neither Chris or Frank would try to lay
claim to this, but hey, I'm having fun.  No copyright infringement
intended.

Archive:  yes

This is a continuation of a series.  They can be found on my website or
Gossamer.  They are as follows:

Nothing Important Happened
Nothing Else Important Happened Today
Nothing Important -- Hell Bound
Nothing Important 4 -- 4D

Author's note:  This is my personal catharsis for what I saw as a waste
of a good season.  No actors, living or dead, were harmed in this making
of this fan fic.  Fictional characters are another matter.

Comments to me:  vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com
 

Nothing Important 5 -- Trust No 1
by Vickie Moseley

 
Complex outside Salt Lake City, UT
5:45 pm

 

Dana Scully licked her lips.  "Let the battle begin." 

Slowly she got out of the old Ford truck and started toward the gates
of the complex.  There was no guardhouse, no guards for that matter. 
The place could have been an agricultural substation for all its
appearance.  Still, her senses were on high alert and the itching in the
back of her neck had grown to a fever's pitch.  She was most definitely
in control, but that damned itching was pissing her off. 

As she approached the gate a military humvee pulled around the side of
one of the buildings.  A single soldier -- non-commissioned -- got out
of the humvee and proceeded to unlock the padlock securing the gate.  He
wordlessly allowed her to enter the compound and then stood watching her
as she looked around.  Finally, she got into the back of the humvee and
the soldier got in the drivers seat and pulled out again. 

All this was too new, too different from anything she'd ever
experienced.  The itching was fading, so she knew she was on the right
track, but her heart was pounding in her chest.  At some point they
would frisk her, she knew that instinctively.  That was why she'd come
unarmed.  She didn't intend to come in guns a blazing.  That had never
been their way, her and Mulder.  Subterfuge, stealth, 'funky poaching'
were their methods of choice.  When the time was right she'd find a
weapon -- and use it with terminal force. 

The soldier seemed to ignore her, but he did call into his command
center, telling the person on the other end that 'the merchandise' had
been delivered.  She might have been offended, if she weren't so busy
watching every building, checking out all the details of the compound in
the late afternoon light.  High tech security cameras were secreted in
alcoves above rusted guttering and dilapidated sheet metal.  The doors
they passed had small pads, more than likely activated by pass cards, as
the one in the Department of Defense had been when Mulder had been left
for dead after his brain surgery.   

She was cataloguing everything, making sure nothing escaped her
notice.  As she rode along, bouncing over the potholes in the ancient
asphalt roadway, she wondered whom she would be meeting.  Cancerman was
dead -- supposedly, as were most of the rest of the consortium.  If
Skinner was right, Krycek was dead, too, but the crazed Russian had more
lives than a cat and Scully wouldn't have been surprised to see him pop
up again. 

Of course, she knew whom Mulder suspected -- John Doggett.  Even after
the evidence, she found it hard to believe that the man she'd worked
with for almost a year, that man who had seemingly moved heaven and
earth to find her partner had actually been sent to destroy him.  When
she closed her eyes, all she could think of was Mulder's voice reminding
her about his own blindness toward Diana Fowley.  How evil did you have
to be to take a person's trust in that way?  Was it possible that she'd
been wrong about Doggett just as her partner had failed to see Fowley's
duplicity all along?   

The vehicle jerked to a stop and the soldier hopped out.  He held his
out to Scully -- a gentlemanly gesture that seemed totally inappropriate
under the circumstances.  Because she'd come on her own free will, and
because she wanted to keep up the pretense of being under the control of
the chip, she accepted his hand and lowered herself to the ground. 
"Where to, soldier?" she asked. 

He pointed to the building in front of them.  "Right through those
doors, Miss," he said with a nod of his head. 

She squared her shoulders and walked over to the door.  The knob turned
easily in her hand.  The hinges squealed in protest as she shoved the
heavy steel door open enough to allow her to enter.  Inside the air was
cool and smelled of fresh paint.  A man in a lab coat was just inside
the door. 

"You must be tired and hungry.  I'll take you to your room.  Your meal
will be brought to you shortly -- we really didn't know when to expect
you," he said in a voice that held a slight Germanic accent. 

"Yes, I am tired," Scully admitted.  She really didn't know what to
expect and she worried that she might seem too alert for someone under
mind control, but the man seemed not to notice anything out of place. 
She followed him down a long hallway with doors on each side until he
came to a door with a sliding card pad.  He took his ID badge -- she
hadn't been able to see the name on it -- and slipped it through the
slot.  The light on the pad glowed green and the door swooshed open
noiselessly. 

The room was neatly appointed with a double bed, an armoire filled with
clothes her size and an attached bathroom.  She even found a few of her
favorite bath gels and shampoos.  A new toothbrush, still in the package
sat next to the sink.  A beautiful royal blue silk pajama set with
matching robe hung from a hook on the bathroom door.  If there had been
windows -- and a knob on her side of the door to the outside -- she
might have mistaken the room for one in a very upscale DC hotel. 

For the first time, she allowed herself to be frightened.  Scully sat
on the bed and thought about what she was doing.  She'd run out on her
family -- her breasts were aching from engorgement.  Would Mulder be
able to get to a store and buy more formula?  What if something had
already happened to him?  What if they only waited until she was out of
the trailer to go in and kill him and their baby? 

The knock on the door startled her and she found herself wiping at her
cheeks to hide her tears.  She stood as the door opened and gapped when
she saw who was bringing in the tray of food. 

"Hi, Sis," Bill said with a timid smile.  "Uh, I told them you liked
veggie pizza, but I guess you just have to make do with cheese tonight. 
I did manage to get a salad though, so maybe . . . "  His voice trailed
off as he sat the tray on the nightstand next to the bed. 

"C'mon, eat.  You have to be starved," he encouraged. 

"Bill, what are you doing here?" she asked, her throat dry with anger
that she couldn't afford to show.  She'd already figured out that the
armoire sported a concealed camera and microphone in the intricate
gingerbread molding. 

"I'm here in the hopes I can talk some sense into you, Dana," Bill said
evenly.  He pulled a chair over and nodded to the bed.  "Sit, eat.  We
can talk later." 

She chewed on her lip for a moment.  What the hell was going on?  Was
Bill in the consortium?  No, she knew her brother and that was
impossible.  Unless -- unless they were using him without his
knowledge.  She had to find out more about what he was doing here. 

She picked up the salad and moved to the table and chair along one
windowless wall.  "Bill, what are you doing here?" she asked again. 

He sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands.  "Dana, you're sick.  I
know you don't think you are.  I know you're going to tell me you're
fine, but you aren't.  You've been brainwashed." 

Scully forced the bite of food in her mouth down her throat. 
"Brainwashed.  By whom, may I ask?" she replied dryly. 

"That sorry son of a bitch partner of yours," Bill said, warming up to
his line of reasoning.  "For the last 9 years you've been running after
that crackpot and for what?  What has it got you?" 

"Well, Bill, I have a son . . ." 

Bill threw back his head and crowed with bitter laughter.  "Oh, yeah, I
bet this is _just_ what Dad and Mom dreamed for you!  You had a child
out of wedlock, you still don't have a husband, you've had cancer --
Missy is dead, all because of that bastard Fox Mulder!  Jesus, Dana,
wake up and look around you!  You're smarter than this.  You're the
sensible one, you always were.  Why the hell are you doing this?" 

It was the same old same old from Bill.  Scully looked at her brother,
positive now that he was not in league with the powers that were out to
destroy her, her partner and her son.  Just the over protective brother
he'd always been now caught up in forces he didn't even bother to
investigate.   

"Bill, I'm not going to defend Mulder.  I don't need to defend him. 
But you need to think about what you're doing," she said, lowering her
voice to a harsh whisper.  "Can you get out of here -- quickly?" 

He rolled his eyes.  "I can get us both out of here -- but I won't. 
Not until you've seen the light.  Dana, this is serious.  Your partner
is party to what amounts to terrorist activity.  It could mean prison --
for both of you!  Please, just wake up from this delusion he has you in
and see what you're doing to yourself -- to your country!" 

She ignored everything he'd said after his admission that he could get
out.  It wasn't worth the breath it would take to try and convince him
that he was the one in error. 

"Bill, go home.  Go home to Tara and Matty.  You don't want to be part
of this.  Please, I'm begging you -- go home." 

"No.  I'm not leaving.  Not until you stand there and tell me why you
would honestly choose a loser like him to follow over your own flesh and
blood."  His arms were crossed and standing as he was, towering over
her, she had a quick flashback to her childhood.  Something about her
father finding the dead rabbit -- 

"Dana!  Are you listening to me?" 

She glared at him and then slowly rose to her feet.  "Bill, have you
told Mom about this . . . this little deprogramming?  Does she even know?" 

At the mention of their mother, he wilted just a bit.  "I didn't tell
anyone." 

"Not even your wife?"  At his silence, Scully nodded, lips pursed.  "Go
home Bill.  Now.  While you still can." 

"Dana -- " 

Her eyes flashed and she shoved him, hard enough to knock him back a
few paces.  "Don't you get it?  This isn't some game.  This isn't some
schoolgirl crush on the star basketball player, either.  This is war! 
And right now, you're on the wrong side," she growled.  "Get the hell
out -- now!"  Hefting the plate of unfinished salad, she threw it
directly at his head. 

Only his quick movement saved him from wearing the salad or taking the
plate square on his temple.  He stood there a moment more, panting with
his frustration.  "They're right.  You are going to be hard to break. 
But believe me, Dana -- they will break you.  And when you've figured
out which way is up, I'll be here to take you home." 

Complex outside Salt Lake City, UT
11:21 pm

 

Mulder lowered the high-powered night goggles and sighed.  The guys had
already sent him on two wild goose chases for the night.  This was the
third abandoned complex on their list.  "Damn government -- no wonder
they can't afford universal healthcare," he muttered under his breath. 
"All they have are abandoned buildings." 

The security lights were bright and he was working hard to stay in the
shadows.  What he saw after a few minutes caused his heart to pound.  A
Ford truck sat deserted just off one of the access roads.  He left his
vehicle, a rented Taurus -- causing far too many trips down memory lane
that night -- and trotted on toward the other vehicle. 

Recognition was immediate.  The same torn cloth bench seat, the gear
shift that was cracked down the side, even the half package of infant
diapers stuffed under the passenger side seat -- but most of all, he
could smell her.  Scully had been in this vehicle, and recently.  He
closed his eyes, conjuring her up in his mind.   

Swallowing down his despair, he slammed the door shut and glared at the
compound.  Security lights for an abandoned complex -- more than just a
waste of the taxpayers' money.  It indicated that they were not that
serious about hiding the value of what they held on the other side of
the 10-foot high chain link fence.  Mulder chewed on his lip.   

He glanced to the left and then to the right.  There was no telling how
far the fence went in either direction.  But there was the strong
possibility that somewhere along that length of fence there would be a
breach -- one big enough for a man to squeeze through.  Taking a deep
breath, he jogged off into the night, following close to the fence, but
still in the shadows. 

Inside the compound
11:21 pm 

The tears had dried on her cheeks not long after they'd started.  Bill
had always been stubborn, and he'd done nothing to ease her pain in the
last 9 years, but she still loved him and feared for his safety.  She
could only hope that he had left the compound -- that he'd finally gone
home to Tara and little Matt.   

In the long hours, she had plenty of time.  More time than she needed. 
Perhaps it had been foolish on her part to rush into this.  She was no
Deborah; she wasn't even a Trojan horse.  She was one woman,
defenseless, against an army of galactic size.   

A grim smile came to her lips.  She'd just recently told Mulder that he
had given her the courage to believe.  Now she embraced the idea of
alien colonization with a certainty that would have astonished an early
version of herself.   But that belief, although important on so many
levels, also left her with a sense of helplessness and dread.  

"Time to buck up," she muttered to herself.  Mulder and William awaited
her, if she just finished the mission.  "Concentrate on one objective,
accomplish it, repeat," she concluded.  She stared at the 'eye' located
in the molding of the armoire.  "A little privacy would be nice," she
murmured and smiled into the camera.   

Pretending to change her clothes, she started unbuttoning the buttons
of her sleeveless blouse.  In a few steps she was at the armoire. 
Moving swiftly, she slipped out of the blouse, leaving just the tank top
underneath.  Then, with a smile on her face, she draped the shirt over
the edge of the molding, where it covered the lens of the camera.  That
done, she went back to the bed and waited for the door to open. 

San Diego, CA
11:21 pm 

"Billy, my god, why didn't you call?  Have you seen your mom yet?" Tara
asked anxiously as she juggled the 2-month-old infant in her arms and
held the phone receiver cradled against her shoulder. 

"No, um, there hasn't been time.  Look, Tara, this might take longer
than a day or two.  I'm not sure when I'll be able to call." 

"Bill," she broke in.  "Bill, something's happened.  I need to talk to
you, honey." 

"I'll be home before you know it, sweetheart.  I gotta go.  Love you,
love Matty."  Click. 

Tara put William against her shoulder as she hung up the phone.  She
looked down at the infant, whose face was scrunching up to break into
another crying fit at any moment.  She was no novice to colicky babies
-- Matty had screamed every night from 5:45 on the dot until just a
little after midnight for three whole months.  The fact that those three
months perfectly coincided with one of Bill's cruises never set well
with her, but eventually, she'd come to forgive him.  She wondered
briefly if she would ever forgive Mulder. 

He'd asked her not to tell anyone, but she was desperate -- and in need
of another pair of hands.  Matty had been good all day, but what was she
supposed to do when she had to go back to work?  She couldn't exactly
drop William off at the day care -- for one thing, they didn't have the
space and for another, technically she had nothing to prove that she was
his guardian.  Mulder hadn't even had time to sign over medical power of
attorney. 

As the baby curled in on himself and broke into another crying fit,
Tara picked up the phone and hit speed dial 4.   

"Hello?"  Maggie Scully held the phone out from her ear as a small
child's cry threatened to do permanent damage to her eardrum.  "Hello,
may I help you?" 

"Mom?  It's Tara.  I need your help."  She switched William to lie face
down on her arm, rubbing his back as she walked.  That had worked
sometimes with Matthew.  It wasn't showing much promise with the infant
in her arms. 

"Tara, sweetie, is that Matthew making all that ruckus?"  It was hard
to make out the words of the woman on the other line.  "Goodness, it's
almost 3 am, dear.  What's the matter? 

Is he sick?"

"Oh, crap," Tara muttered as she looked at the clock and quickly
realized that it was very early on the East Coast.  "Mom, I'm sorry I
woke you, but no, this isn't Matthew crying."  She started to blurt out
the news, but the memory of the fear in Mulder's eyes stopped her before
she could make that mistake.  "Can you come out here?  Use that
open-ended ticket we got you for Christmas?" 

"Tara, what is this about?  Where's Bill?" Maggie demanded, suddenly
alarmed. 

"Mom, please, I can explain everything when I pick you up at the
airport.  Please, just get out here as soon as you can.  Bill is away on
business and I need you." 

"Of course, sweetheart.  I'll call the airlines right now.  I'll call
back with my arrival time."  Maggie closed her eyes and silently prayed
-- she was almost positive who that baby was screaming on the other end
of the line, but understood if Tara wasn't forthcoming.  "Tara, is
anyone else with you?"

"No, Mom.  That's why I need you.  I can't go to work -- " 

"Enough said," Maggie cut in.  "I'll be there as soon as humanly
possible." 

She hung up the phone after a hasty 'I love you'.  Maggie sat on the
side of her bed and chewed her lip.  William was with Tara, she knew it
without her daughter-in-law saying it out loud.  But Bill was away? 
Where?  He was on shore duty for the next six months -- he'd just told
her as much two days ago.  And if Tara had William -- where were Dana
and Fox? 

She started to dial the airlines, but thought better of it.  The nice
young man who came to her in various disguises had said to call if she
needed anything.  What she was about to do definitely fit that bill. 
She reached into the drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a business
card.  Dialing the number, she tried to calm her jangled nerves.  It
took a few moments, but the line finally picked up.  Tersely, she asked
for the person who had given her the card. 

"Mr. Byers?  This is Margaret Scully.  How quickly can you get me on a
plane to San Diego?" 

Outside the compound
11:25 pm 

Mulder had been walking for hours in the dark.  It was colder now, and
his thin denim jacket was nothing against the cold mountain air.  He
wished he'd thought to bring his leather jacket -- but then he was
pretty sure they'd left that back in North Carolina.  What he really
wanted to do was roll over in bed and wake up from this dreadful
nightmare. 

The chain link fence, for being rusted in some places, was surprisingly
strong and in good repair.  The four strands of barbed wire hovering
over his head was the only thing keeping him from trying to climb over. 

He glanced at his watch -- the luminous dial telling him it was nearing
midnight.  His stomach growled.  Aside from a gallon of coffee and two
bags of airline pretzels, he'd not eaten all day.  It wasn't the first
time he'd gone without food, he'd gone without sleep -- he could go to
the end of the earth to find her, and he had on at least one occasion. 
But in the night, with the moonlight casting incredible long shadows, he
felt so helpless.   

Looking up at the stars, he shook his head.  "This is for her, not for
me.  Well, it is for me, too, I guess, but please, please help me find
her.  You gave us William, please don't take her away."  He chewed on
his lip, wondering if praying to a spiritual thought process would
really do any good.  It was then he noticed the break in the fence. 

It was not a huge cut, barely 4 feet from top to bottom.  The chain was
still strong and he had to squeeze through it to get in.  He had his
foot inside the compound, twisting his body to get his head and
shoulders through when something very hard hit him on the back of the
head and the dark night became even darker. 

Inside the compound
3:06 am

Scully had fallen asleep.  She'd tried to stay awake, but her late
night journey from the trailer and her long trek to this place made it
impossible for her to stay awake.  Years of service in the field and
recent months of motherhood had honed her sense to a sharp edge and when
the door shushed open, she was instantly alert. 

It was the man in the lab coat.  He smiled blandly at her, as if she
were a customer or a client instead of a captive.  "Did you have a nice
rest, Ms. Scully?" he asked, in that odd accent that she was still
trying to pin down. 

"What do you want with me?" she shot back coldly. 

"We have need to find out what happened.  Why a barren woman would
suddenly become fertile.  It's . . . an obsession of ours, I guess you
could say.  You will come with me?" 

If she had any thoughts of resisting, the pain that suddenly burned
through the back of her neck stopped them.  Gasping for breath, she
struggled to get off the bed.  The man before her simply smiled and
offered his hand.  With a sense of dread, she took it.   

San Diego International Airport
12:12 pm 

Tara scanned the crowd, looking for and finally seeing her
mother-in-law.  Taking Matty tiny hand in her own and hefting the infant
seat, she started walking toward the older woman. 

The minute Maggie Scully saw her family; she broke out in a run.  She
hugged first Matthew and then Tara briefly before taking the infant seat
from her.  "Hello, sweetheart," she cooed to the baby and then smiled
and gave her other grandson a one armed hug. 

"You don't look too surprised," Tara said, slightly miffed. 

"I suspected this was the reason you couldn't go to work and the ear
piercing scream in the background was the final clue.  All of my
children had colic.  I remember thinking that I'd never heard such a
unique cry -- just below a sonic boom," she chuckled.  She sat the
carrier down on a nearby chair and pulled the baby into her arms.  "I
knew you couldn't talk last night.  How did they get him to you?" 

"It was Mulder.  Mom, he . . . I've never seen a man more terrified. 
Dana apparently left them, she took off." 

Maggie closed her eyes for a moment, taking it all in.  "She wouldn't
go of her own free will," she said firmly. 

"Mulder wouldn't tell me anything.  But he's looking for her.  He said
something about some friends who are helping him." 

Maggie nodded.  "Yes, I know them.  They helped me get the flight out
here so quickly." 

"I haven't heard from him since he dropped William off.  The cell phone
he called from is no longer in service." 

"He's somewhere in Utah," Maggie said with a shrug.  "That's all anyone
knows."  She kissed the baby's head and rubbed the back of his neck. 
"Where is Bill?" 

Tara dropped her gaze to the tile floor.  "He's -- away.  He wouldn't
tell me, but he said something about DC.  But he was so evasive -- " 

"You've learned not to ask, I know, Tara.  I remember it well." 

"He called last night, said it might be a while longer and that he
might not be able to call.  I didn't tell him about the baby -- I didn't
think it would be wise to say anything and I didn't want to upset him if
he's on a sensitive assignment.  But if Dana is in danger maybe -- " 

"No, you did the right thing, I don't know how much help he would be in
this situation," Maggie assured her.  "Let's get these two home.  When
are you supposed to go to work today?" 

Tara blushed slightly.  "I was supposed to go in at 9 to open the
store.  But when I got your call, I called in and asked to switch.  I'm
working from 3 till close tonight.  I'll be home about 9:30.  But that
means you're all by yourself during the 'witching hour' at 5:30." 

Maggie smiled down at her youngest grandchild.  "Oh, there's nothing to
worry about there, Tara.  I've faced down quite a few terrors in my life
-- your husband included.  I can handle this little guy.  We're going to
be just fine, aren't we Matty?  You and Grandma can take care of your
baby cousin, right?" 

"You betcha, Grandma!" Matty chimed in, happy to finally be included in
the big people conversation.  Maggie chuckled and Tara let out a sigh of
relief. 

Compound outside Salt Lake City
12:11 pm 

Scully struggled to remain conscious.  The pain radiating through her
body was so intense, her throat was sore from screaming.  Tears were
coursing down her cheeks.  She wanted nothing more than to take a gun,
any gun and drill a bullet right between the eyes of the man standing by
the control panel, smiling blandly at her. 

Clone, she'd convinced herself somewhere around early morning, but she
wasn't really sure of the time.  The bastard had to be a clone -- or a
serial killer -- for all the emotion he displayed while putting her
through this torture.  He and the massive machine, obviously constructed
originally as a medical device, poised over her -- ready to continue
probing her body and causing anguish in its path. 

She closed her eyes.  Thoughts of Mulder and their sweet baby kept
floating into her mind.  Why in God's name had she come here?  She left
them defenseless.  It was just as they had discussed at the beginning of
this cross-country journey -- the plan all along was to divide and
conquer.  She should have told Mulder about the chip and the tingling
sensation, she should have warned him.  She bit her lip hard again,
drawing blood once more from the poor battered skin and tissue.   

"I will return shortly.  You will rest," the man/clone spoke
soothingly, as if he were only stepping out to get more towels for her
spa treatment.  A swoosh of a door and he was gone.  She was alone. 

She tugged on her restraints, but they were leather straps and wouldn't
budge.  She was so tired, and all she wanted was to blow up the facility
and get back to her family. 

Her family.  What was Mulder doing?  Assuming he wasn't dead, and she
had to convince herself that he was alive if she planned to keep her
heart beating, he would come after her.  He was an expert tracking, a
trained profiler -- hampered just slightly by a 2-month-old infant.  He
would contact the guys for help. 

He would think first of calling her mother and decide that too
dangerous.  He would contact the closest relative, a person he knew that
she trusted. 

It came to her in a flash -- he would take the baby to Tara. 

If he was out there, he was in danger.  She had to get out of the
compound to find him.  In the process, she had to destroy anyone and
anything standing in her way. 

She heard the door swoosh open again, fully expecting the man in the
lab coat.  That made the person standing in the doorway even more
unexpected. 

location unknown
time unknown 

"Easy -- easy there.  Just lie back, you have a nasty bump on your head." 

Mulder slowly blinked his eyes, but when that proved too painful, he
settled for squinting them in against the harsh ceiling lights.  "Where
am I?" he demanded in a voice that was anything but fierce. 

"You're in the Wasatch Mountains, just 30 miles out of Salt Lake City,"
someone told him.  The voice was familiar, but the pain in his head kept
him from remembering it fully. 

"No, I have to go back.  I have to -- there's someone in the compound. 
I have to get her out," Mulder said, forcing himself to rise up on his
elbows in preparation of standing.  He didn't get far when the pain
exploded and knocked him back to a reclining position. 

"Yes, Agent Scully.  She's being held there.  But you were going about
it all wrong.  You were going to get yourself killed," the voice said. 

"doesn't matter -- not if Scully's in danger."  He breathed for a
moment, then forced his eyes open.  "Who are you?  How do you know her?" 

"I know both of you, Agent Mulder.  Or should I just call you Fox?" 
The man behind the voice stepped out of the shadows.  It was none other
than Jeffrey Spender.  

To be continued