Dark Reflection -- conclusion (6 of 6)
By Sally Bahnsen and Dawn


ACT III


Marcussen Residence
5:07 p.m.


He met Beth coming out the front door. Head turned so that
she was gazing back into the house, she nearly bowled him
over. A small slip of paper and her keys tumbled onto the
front porch with a dissonant jingle, and her eyes flew open.


"Agent Mulder! I'm so sorry; are you all right?" She
touched his arm in an expression of concern, looking him up
and down for damage.

Actually, he'd been feeling rather lightheaded ever since
leaving the hospital, but he pasted on a reassuring smile.
"I'm fine; are you okay?"

"Except for a terminal case of clumsiness! I was just
headed out to the store – got halfway through cookin'
supper and realized that all the onions are moldy. Did you
need to talk to me? And where's Agent Scully?" Beth gushed
breathlessly.

"Agent Scully had to drive into Charleston. And I actually
stopped by to speak to Jacob, if that's all right."

Despite Mulder's deliberately casual tone, Beth tensed,
and her eyes turned from open and friendly to apprehensive
and suspicious.

"May I ask why?"

Mulder twitched one shoulder in a brief shrug and slipped
his hands casually into his pockets. Scully had brought him

a clean suit in anticipation of his release the following
morning, little knowing she'd wind up aiding and abetting
his escape from the hospital.

"Just wanted to see how he's doing. Shoot the breeze."

Beth shuffled her feet, glancing at her watch. "I really
need to get that onion," she said doubtfully. "Sam's due
home at six, and the casserole needs to bake for thirty
minutes."

"You go right ahead. I'll just keep Jacob company until
you get back." Mulder leaned against the door, trying hard
to appear non-threatening.

"Weeell, I guess that would be all right. I'll only be
gone about twenty minutes." She smiled tentatively.
"Jacob's back in his bedroom, playin' on the computer. You
can head right on back; you know the way."

"I'll do that. And please don't rush; we'll be fine."

Mulder waited until Beth had climbed into her car and
pulled out of the driveway before walking quietly through
the living room and down the hallway to Jacob's door. He
paused, listening to the innocuous sound of rapid clicks
and electronic laser bolts punctuated by soft grunts and
muttered expletives. Ordinary, everyday sounds made by
ordinary, everyday kids. Except this kid was just as far
from "ordinary" and "everyday" as you could possibly get.
Steeling himself for what lay ahead, Mulder knocked softly
on the door.

"Come in!"

At first he couldn't see Jacob, who was hunched behind the
computer monitor, so he circled around the desk. The boy
didn't bother looking up, his eyes glued to the screen, and
his thumb furiously stabbing buttons on the joystick.

"I thought you said you were goin' to the store, Mama."

"Hey, Jacob. What game are you playing?"

Jacob's head snapped around and every muscle in his body
tensed. His lips parted, and his eyes looked ready to jump
out of their sockets.

"Wha...What are you doing here?"

Mulder strolled over and sat on the bed. "Just stopped by
to see how you were getting along. You seem awfully
surprised to see me, Jacob. How come?"

Jacob's eyes narrowed and darted away from Mulder's,
returning to the computer screen. "Just wasn't expectin'
you, that's all."

"Well, to tell you the truth, I'm lucky to be here. After
I talked to your mom yesterday, I got really sick. So sick
that I nearly died. I spent all of last night in the
hospital."

Jacob's fist tightened around the joystick, and he jerked
it viciously from side to side, but his voice lacked
emotion. "Really? That's too bad, Agent Mulder."

"The puzzling part, though, is that when the doctor tested
my blood, he found an extremely high concentration of a
drug called Ergomar. People take it for migraine headaches,
but if you take too much it can stop your heart. The thing
is, I don't get migraine headaches, and until yesterday I'd
never heard of that drug."

Jacob didn't respond, but his tongue crept out of his
mouth to swipe nervously over his lips. Mulder leaned
forward, his elbows braced on his knees. He pitched his
voice low and silky.

"Your mom gets migraine headaches, doesn't she? In fact,
Doctor Blake told me she takes Ergomar for them. Quite a
coincidence – don't you think? If we checked your mom's
bottle of pills right now, what do you bet we'd find five
or six missing?"

Jacob went very still. After a long silence, he looked at
Mulder. "My mama would never hurt anyone."

Mulder held his gaze and slowly shook his head. "Not your
mother, Jacob. You. *You* took the pills from your mother's
medicine cabinet. *You* ground them up, and when she turned
her back, *you* put them in the sugar she gave me to put in
my coffee."

Jacob shook his head so hard it seemed likely to fly off
his neck. "I don't...No! Why would I do something like that?
I..."

"Jacob, it's over. Why don't you save us both a lot of
aggravation and tell me where Rachel is. You and I both
know she wasn't abducted by aliens."

"I...we saw lights, a big ship. Rachel..."

"Rachel would be too frightened to chase a spaceship into
the woods. You invented your entire story from the
abduction experiences of other people. You saw me find
those magazines, realized I was onto you, so you panicked
and tried to poison me. But it didn't work, Jacob. None of
it worked, and it's time to own up to what you've done."

Jacob shuddered and his eyes flooded with tears. "You
don't understand; it's not like that! I didn't mean to hurt
her, just scare her a little. I was just mad, that's all."

Mulder's stomach lurched and he barely concealed his
turbulent reaction to the boy's words. "You were angry
because you wanted a puppy. But your parents said you
couldn't have one, that Rachel's allergies would make her
sick."

"She always spoils everything! It started the very day
Mama brought her home from the hospital. Everybody makin'
such a big fuss over her, talkin' about how cute she was.
She didn't look so cute to me, all red-faced and squallin'
like a stuck pig."

"What happened, Jacob. Where is she?"

Jacob shivered harder, and began crying in earnest. "I
only meant to lose her in the woods, that's all. How was I
supposed to know she'd trip and fall down into that ravine?"

Mulder ran his hand over his jaw. "She fell and hurt
herself? How badly?"

Jacob shook his head, hiccuping. "I don't know, I don't
know. She wasn't movin' at all, and she wouldn't answer me.
I just knew I was gonna be in so much trouble if Mama and
Daddy found out."

"So you left her. And you made up the story about the
flying saucer and the bright light." Mulder blinked back a
wave of dizziness. He slipped off his suitcoat and loosened
his tie.

"I'm sorry! Are you gonna tell on me?" Jacob eyes were
huge in his face, his tone pleading.

"I need you to take me to where Rachel fell. Will you do
that?"

Jacob hesitated, then nodded, swiping his nose with his
sleeve. Mulder rose and tilted his head toward the door.
"Come on, Jacob. Show me."

Dusk was falling, the shadows long and deep. Jacob led the
way out the back door, across the yard, and into the trees.
He repeatedly glanced over his shoulder as he stepped over
gnarled tree roots and ducked under low hanging branches.
Mulder followed doggedly, his heart pounding with an odd
mixture of anticipation and dread.

"How did you get her out here in the first place?" he asked.

"Told her I discovered Luke's hideout and I'd show her
where it was," Jacob answered, voice catching.

"How come none of the rescue teams found her?" Mulder
panted, blotting a trickle of sweat from his forehead.

Jacob's shoulders pulled taut. "I dunno. The ravine where
she fell was pretty deep. It was hard to see her, and she
wasn't movin'."

Five minutes into the woods Jacob veered off the trail,
scrambling over a large, rotting log. Mulder imitated his
movements, his dress shoes slipping and sliding on the
slick, mossy surface. He swatted at a cloud of gnats that
rose and buzzed around his head, struggling to keep up with
the fleet-footed Jacob.

"Jacob, slow down!"

"It's just up ahead; she fell right over here," Jacob
called, swinging his arm in a beckoning motion. "Hurry up!
You can cut through those bushes."

Mulder tripped on a rock, regained his balance, and broke
into a trot as he neared the boy, who was now pointing down
a steep hill. The thought that Jacob seemed overeager,
nearly enthusiastic, flickered through Mulder's mind just
as the ground vanished from beneath his feet. His stomach
plummeted, and he instinctively flung out both arms as the
world spun sickeningly.

His forearms smacked something solid with enough force to
wrench a scream from his lips, and his fingers scrabbled at
the dirt. The impact halted his downward plunge, but his
feet dangled helplessly over thin air. He attempted to
wriggle onto solid ground, but merely succeeded in causing
the dirt to shift so that he slid backward several feet,
barely clinging to the lip of a very deep pit. Mulder
pressed his forehead into the earth, sucking in great,
sobbing gulps of air.

The snapping and popping of twigs prompted him to lift his
head, and he found himself staring at a pair of size four
sneakers. Gingerly tilting his head further, he looked up
into Jacob's indifferent face.

"You wondered what happened to Rachel, didn't you, Agent
Mulder? Well, now you know."


Montgomery General Hospital
5:09 p.m.


When she'd first entered the FBI as a very young, very
green agent, her encounters with violent death had sickened
Scully. Whether a grisly casefile discussed during a
training course, or a battered and barely recognizable body
to autopsy, she'd had to struggle against her own dismay
and revulsion in order to get the job done.

Then came the X-Files, toughening her until she could
dispassionately and clinically view a crime scene that left
seasoned veterans pale and shaking. Through it all,
however, Scully maintained a basic outrage when it came to
murder. She found it very difficult to understand how one
person could be driven to take the life of another.

Until now.

"And just exactly how long has Agent Mulder been missing?"

The nurse, Cassie – a very young blonde who was even
shorter than Scully – cringed under the weight of the
agent's disapproving glare. "I couldn't say exactly, Doctor
Scully. I went in to check on him about twenty minutes ago,
just to see if he'd fallen asleep again and left that
computer of his on." Cassie recovered enough of her nerve
to send Scully a look of mild disapproval. "You know, the
hospital frowns on patients usin' their phone lines for
hookin' into the Internet. I tried to tell Agent Mulder
that, but he just went and did it anyway."

"Welcome to my world," Scully muttered. "So, you checked
on him twenty minutes ago, and he wasn't there?"

"No ma'am. His gown was just layin' on the bathroom floor,
and Agent Mulder was nowhere to be found. Honestly, Doctor
Scully, I've never had a patient just up and run out on me
like this. It's real upsettin'."

Scully patted her arm before shoving open the door to
Mulder's empty room. "Don't take it personally, Cassie.
Agent Mulder's ditches are completely indiscriminate."

Cursing under her breath, she crossed to the small closet
where she'd hung Mulder's clean suit. The empty hanger was
not unexpected – the piece of paper propped up on the shelf
only mildly so. Snatching it up, she stalked over to the
window where she could read it by the waning sunlight.

*Scully,

I know how angry you must be, but don't reach for your gun
yet. Contrary to what you're probably thinking, I've
considered this very carefully. I'm pretty sure I can
convince Jacob to confess, but only if I talk to him alone.
He'd have a difficult time seeing you as the enemy, Scully,
and you have the same problem. I know how hard you've
struggled with your feelings on this case. Please
understand that if I'm going to get Jacob to talk, I can't
afford for him to sense any hesitation or ambivalence. I
know better than to ask you to wait for my call, so I guess
I'll see you at the Marcussens'. With any luck, by the time
you get there, it will all be over.

M.*

Scully crumpled the note into a ball and headed for the
door with it wrapped in her fist. Cassie stepped forward to
ask a question when she emerged from the room. One look at
Scully's face, however, and she scrambled quickly out of
the way.

She reached the Marcussen house just as Beth pulled into
the driveway. By the time Scully crossed the lawn, Beth had
pulled a small, plastic grocery bag from the car and turned
to face her with a slightly puzzled smile.

"Hello, Agent Scully. Did you have a pleasant trip to
Charleston?"

Scully arched an eyebrow. "It was beneficial. How did you
know I'd gone to Charleston?"

"Agent Mulder mentioned it. I didn't expect to see you
here."

"Agent Mulder is here now?" Scully followed her to the
front door, relieving Beth of the sack while the woman
fumbled for the correct key and slid it into the lock.

Beth bobbed her head. "He wanted to talk to Jacob. Said
he'd keep him company while I ran to the store. Hang on."
She grabbed the bag from Scully and bustled off to the
kitchen, returning empty handed a moment later.

Scully followed her down the hallway to Jacob's room,
trying to keep a lid on anger that threatened to bubble
over. No matter how furious she was with her partner, it
was imperative to remain professional in front of Beth and
Jacob. Later, back at the hotel, she'd let him have it.

"Jacob? I..." Beth trailed off, turning in a slow circle to
scan the empty room. "Jacob?"

Scully walked over to the bed and picked up her partner's
discarded suitcoat. "Well, they must be around somewhere.
Mulder wouldn't leave without his jacket."

"Jacob? Jacob Samuel Marcussen, where are you?" Beth
called, heading back into the hall.

Several minutes later, after searching the house from end
to end, they stood in the middle of the kitchen, Scully's
face tense with suppressed worry, Beth's blank with
bewilderment.

"Where could they have gotten to?" she asked Scully.

Frantic rapping on the back door absolved Scully of the
need to reply. Frowning, Beth pulled it open.

"Jacob, where...oh, Jess! What on earth is the matter, hon?
You look like you've seen a ghost."

Jess burst past Beth to seize Scully's hand. "Agent
Scully, you gotta come quick!"

Taken by surprise, the little girl managed to tug Scully
several steps toward the door before she regained her wits
enough to dig in her heels. She leaned over to better see
Jessica's frightened face.

"You have to tell me what's wrong, sweetheart. Where are
you taking me?"

Jess' eyes flicked over to Beth's face and then back to
Scully. "Please! I just need you to come."

Sensing the source of the little girl's discomfort, Scully
nodded to Beth. "Let me see what this is all about, Beth.
I'll be right back."

Jess pulled her out the door and down the back steps
toward the forest. When they reached the trees, Scully
slowed her steps.

"Jess, you have to tell me where we're going."

"I was in the woods, lookin' for Luke, when I saw Jacob
and your friend. I wanted to see what Jacob was up to, so I
followed them for a spell. Luke's teachin' me how to become
a secret agent," she explained proudly.

"Go on," Scully said, but allowed the little girl to lead
her into the woods.

"After a while they left the path, and I couldn't see 'em
no more. I didn't follow 'cause I knew Mama'd be real mad
if she found out. We aren't supposed to leave the trail --
even though Luke does it all the time." Her face screwed up
into a pout. "Anyway, I started to walk home, figurin' they
weren't comin' back. And then I heard it."

Jess broke into a trot, and Scully hastened to catch up to
her. "What, Jess? What did you hear?" The prickling feeling
that scampered up and down her spine warned she wasn't
going to like the answer.

Jess slowed just enough to look Scully in the eye, her
small face pale. "I heard a scream, Agent Scully. And I
think it was your friend."


Somewhere in the woods
5:43 p.m.


"Jacob, don't do this. You're not...going to get away...with
it."

Mulder's ribs protested the fresh abuse, and the muscles
in his shoulders and arms trembled with exhaustion. He'd
located a small ledge for his right foot, but the left
still dangled freely.

Jacob squatted down just beyond Mulder's reach. "You
probably know there's a lot of minin' in this area, Agent
Mulder. But did you know there's also a lot of old
abandoned shafts that no one knows about? Some of 'em go
real deep. You fall down one of them, and no one's gonna
find you."

"Agent Scully...will come looking. Knows...I'm here," Mulder
panted.

"You *were* here," Jacob replied calmly. "And then you
left."

"Won't...believe you."

Jacob shrugged. "I think they will. After all, everyone in
this town knows me, Agent Mulder." His lips stretched into
something that resembled a grin. "And I'm just a little
kid."

"I...didn't fall... for that act."

Jacob's brows knit together. "I know. And you've really
messed things up." He stood and stared down at Mulder for a
long time, then swiftly lifted his foot and ground the heel
of his sneaker into Mulder's left hand.

Bright shards of pain sparked through Mulder's fingers,
and he screamed. He reflexively loosened his grip, slipping
further over the edge and losing his precious foothold.
Several nails peeled back as he clutched at the ground, but
he was able to grasp a protruding rock and once again stop
his fall. He'd screamed Scully's name twice in sheer terror
before remembering the futility of the gesture.

"Jacob, don't...don't do this. You...don't have to...ahhh!"

The right hand this time, but Mulder had seen it coming
and somehow managed to keep his hand locked around the
rock. He grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes tightly shut,
tears trickling from the corners. Disjointed images
flickered through his head, like a movie on fast forward.

*"Caddyshack" playing and Scully on his couch, her face
relaxed and serene. "Well, I'm fairly happy, Mulder, and
that's something."*

*Jessica Miller's wide dark eyes. "You gonna bring Rachel
back home, mister?"*

*Jacob's head bent over a model, his words cold and
indifferent. "You can try all you want, Agent Mulder. But I
don't think they're gonna bring her back."*

*Beth's fluttering hands and pleading gaze. "Jacob's gonna
be just fine; no cause to think history would repeat
itself. None at all."*

*Scully, rumpled and exhausted, her voice quivering with
emotion. "I nearly lost you last night..."*

*Sorry, Scully.*

"NO!" he screamed as Jacob lowered his foot over the
fingers yet again.

"STOP! Don't do it, Jacob! Move away from him right now."

Scully's voice, harsh and commanding, brooked no refusal.
Jacob jerked in surprise, then slowly did as he'd been
instructed, backing up several feet and watching her
warily. Mulder heard the snapping of twigs as she
approached, but kept his face pressed to the earth, every
ounce of his remaining strength channeled into hanging on.

"Sit down against that tree and don't move. Jess, run back
to the house and tell Beth to call the sheriff." Scully
barked the orders as she knelt to grasp Mulder by both arms.

"Call...rescue squad," Mulder grunted as he wriggled forward
with his partner's assistance. "Think I found...Rachel."

Seconds later he was lying on his belly in the dirt and
dead leaves, gulping in air and dizzy with relief. His
fingers throbbed, the muscles in his shoulders clenched in
painful spasms, and his ribs ached, but solid ground had
never felt so sweet.

"You feeling okay?" Scully's fingers drifted through his
hair, but her eyes remained locked on Jacob.

Mulder hauled himself to his knees, groaning. "Yeah.
Stupid, but okay."

Scully's eyebrow did its dance, and she pursed her lips.
"I'll refrain from commenting, Mulder. For now, anyway."

Mulder dropped his head into his hands and moaned softly.

"What about me?" Jacob asked, voice quavering. "What's
going to happen to me?"

"We're going to make sure you get some help, Jacob."
Mulder's head snapped up at the hard edge in Scully's
words. Her face was grim but composed. "And that you can't
hurt anyone ever again."


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

EPILOGUE


The Root Cellar Bar
24 hours later


"So when he finally woke up – or should I say, regained
consciousness," Tim smirked at Mulder, who had buried his
face in both hands, "you could see the imprint of the
bathroom tiles all over the left side of his face. It took
practically the whole afternoon for 'em to fade."

Scully giggled merrily, a sound so rare that Mulder didn't
really mind that it had happened at his expense. He pinned
Tim with a long-suffering glare.

"Are you finished yet? Or do you intend to further impugn
my credibility?"

Spencer propped muscular arms on the table and grinned.
"Way I hear it, WonderBoy, there just isn't that much
credibility to impugn."

"Ha, ha," Mulder growled over Scully's snickering. "You're
a real barrel of laughs tonight, Spence. They ought to hire
you for live entertainment; you beat the heck out of the
band."

Scully sipped her Coke in a poor attempt to hide a grin.
"So Tim... Why do you call Mulder, WonderBoy?"

"Because he knows how much I hate it," Mulder muttered.

Tim's grin softened to something less like teasing and
more like affection. "I met him over ten years ago, in the
summer of '89. Everyone was talkin' about Fox Mulder, the
best profiler the Bureau had ever seen, a rising star. He
was tactless, opinionated, and arrogant as hell. I hated
him on sight." He chuckled softly, and Mulder joined him.

"That's an understatement! We were partnered for several
of those asinine exercises at a team-building seminar --
through no choice of our own." Mulder shook his head
ruefully. "It's amazing we didn't wind up killing each
other before the day was through."

"He was so cocky and sure of himself, I started callin'
him 'WonderBoy' – and not in a complimentary way, as I'm
sure you can imagine," Tim continued. "After nearly comin'
to blows, we finally started to talk to each other. By the
end of that seminar, we'd become friends, and I'd come to
see that Mulder's reputation as the Bureau's Great White
Hope wasn't all just smoke and mirrors."

Mulder shifted and leaned back in the booth, his
expression distant and pained. "That was a long time ago,"
he said.

Tim looked at him shrewdly. "Not so long, Mulder. You
haven't lost your touch. You solved this case and brought
that little girl home, just like I knew you would."

One long finger, the skin marked with bruises, traced the
rim of his glass. "By the time we got her out of that
shaft, Rachel was more dead than alive. She'd fractured her
leg in three places, and between the severity of the breaks
and the delay in treatment, the doctors are afraid she may
never walk normally again. Add to that the fact that Jacob
has been committed to a psychiatric facility for what
promises to be a very long time, and I don't think Beth and
Sam Marcussen have a lot to thank me for."

A small hand wrapped around the glass and tugged it away
from his finger, forcing him to look up. Scully's intense
blue eyes drilled relentlessly into his.

"Mulder, Jacob had concealed the opening to that shaft so
well, none of the search parties found it. The very fact
that Rachel is still alive is a miracle. That sufficient
run-off from precipitation had collected so she had water
to drink, that her body was able to fight off infection for
as long as it did, that she didn't succumb to overwhelming
loneliness and fear – she held on, Mulder. She held on in
hopes that someone would find her. And we did."

Mulder didn't answer, but one corner of his mouth lifted
in a crooked smile.

Tim shook his head. "Same ol' WonderBoy. Always have been
your own worst enemy – especially on the basketball court."

Mulder gaped in outrage. "It's either been too long since
we've played, Spencer, or your memory has deteriorated
along with your talent. Even on my worst day I could..."

"I think those drugs must still be percolatin' your brain,
WonderBoy; you're delusional. I..."

Scully just rolled her eyes.


Wildwood Institute of Mental Health
6 months later


"I really, really never meant to hurt my sister, Doctor
Shelton. Back then I guess I just didn't know how to deal
with my anger and frustration, and I lost control." Jacob
broke off studying the geometric pattern in the carpet to
look his psychiatrist in the eye. "I understand now, that
what I did was very wrong. And since I've been here at
Wildwood, I've learned to express anger in more acceptable
ways. I just hope that someday Rachel can forgive me."

Dr. Shelton leaned back in his leather chair with his
fingers steepled beneath his chin. "I'm very glad to hear
that, Jacob. You have made incredible strides since you've
been here. The nurses and therapists all give you glowing
reports. I'm very proud of you."

Jacob smiled, ducking his head shyly. "Thank you, Doctor
Shelton. Comin' from you, that means a lot."

"You can run along to dinner now; I'm sure your group will
be waiting for you. I'll see you on Tuesday, same time."

"Sure thing! Tonight's pizza – wouldn't want to be late
for that!"

Dr. Shelton waited for Jacob to pull the door shut behind
him, then reached for the small tape recorder on the corner
of his desk.

"Jacob Marcussen continues to make incredible progress in
both individual and group therapy. As evidenced in this
session, he has clearly begun to understand the impact of
his actions, and his own culpability. If he continues to
improve at the present rate, I have hopes that he will be
spending this Christmas at home, with his family. While
reintegration will provide its own set of difficulties, I'm
confident..."

The doctor continued to drone on, but Jacob pulled his ear
from the door and smiled. He'd heard everything he needed
to hear.


End


AUTHORS' NOTES: Well, we made it! Sally and I would like
to express what a joy it's been to be a part of I Made This
Productions Virtual Season. It's an honor and a privilege
to work with this group of talented people! Thanks go to
Vickie, Karen, and my hubby Ron, for their most excellent
beta; Suzanne, for being our resident advisor on all things
medical; Theresa Filardo for the wonderful artwork, and the
Crystalship gang, for support and advice. We hope you've
enjoyed reading this story as much as we enjoyed writing it!