Evil Follows Evil
By Lori Theodore (AKA PhantmCat)
August 22, 1995

Necessary, official sounding, legal gobbledygook (Y'know, it wouldn't be the
same without it):
Mulder, Scully, and the rest of the X-Files family are the creations and
property of Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions, and Fox Broadcasting and
have been used without permission.  The other miscellaneous people are mine--
mostly. :)

Part Four

     Scully blinked a few times as she came back to consciousness.  She tried
to focus on something solid, but could see only darkness.  Her head throbbed
and she felt her face resting against something rough and scratchy.  It took
her a moment to remember that she'd been involved in a car crash and that she
was lying face down on the floor in the back of the car, her face against the
carpeting.  She couldn't quite figure out what she was doing in the back
seat.
     She felt something loosely wrapped around her wrists and was surprised
to find it was Mulder's necktie.  She shook it loose and slowly pulled
herself back onto the seat.  The task was made even more difficult by her
pounding headache and the dull pain deep within her left shoulder.  Once
seated, she sat perfectly still--bent forward with her head near her
knees--long enough for her world to stop spinning.  When she was sure she
wasn't going to pass out, she sat up and looked into the front seat.  What
she saw made her swallow hard.
     "Mulder," she whispered, "my God!"
     She was sure he was dead.
     Scully strained to see as much as she could over the seat.  To her
relief, she could just barely detect the steady rise and fall of his chest as
he breathed.  She was alarmed when she noticed that, for whatever reason, he
hadn't been wearing a seatbelt.  While the airbag kept him from going through
the windshield, it couldn't protect him from being tossed from side to side.
Mulder lay slumped against the side door.  A few thin trails of blood
trickled down the cracked glass of the window.  She couldn't actually see the
side of his head and she desperately wanted to find out how badly he was
injured.
     She struggled to open the back door on the passenger side and realized
Mulder had locked all the doors.  There was no way to unlock the doors from
the back seat, so she reached over and pushed the automatic door lock on the
front door near where she normally sat.  Once the doors were unlocked, she
switched from the back seat to the front, thankful the doors, on her side
atleast, weren't jammed shut.
     Scully's medical mind evaluated Mulder as she leaned over him.  The
injury was serious.  His eyes were closed, and the entire left side of his
face was covered with blood.  The injury looked alarming, but she also knew
it might look worse than it was since head wounds tended to bleed easily.  He
was beginning to stir just slightly.  She cradled the nape of his neck in her
hand so she could hold his head still and check his pupils.  They were
uneven, an indication that, at best, he had a severe concussion--at worst, a
skull fracture.  Either way, he needed to be hospitalized.
     "Scully," he mumbled.  He clumsily lifted his hand toward the wound on
his head and she moved it away.
     "Lie still, Mulder," she said softly.  "We've been in a car accident and
you've been hurt.  I'm going to call for help as soon as I figure out where
we are.  We'll have you out of here in no time."
     "I have a hell of a headache," he muttered, speech slurred.
     "I can imagine."
     He closed his eyes then opened them again as if he thought of something
extremely important.  He weakly tried to sit up.  "Scully, are you okay?  Are
you hurt?"
     She carefully pushed him back down.  "A couple of bumps and bruises.
I've got a bit of a headache, too, but otherwise I'm fine.  Now, don't try to
move, okay?"
     "I don't want to move.  I ache all over."
     "I'm not surprised, Mulder.  Why the hell weren't you wearing a
seatbelt?  You could have been killed."
     Again, she got that strange feeling that he _should_ have been
dead--like she'd just awakened from a nightmare that seemed incredibly real.
     After a pause, he answered, "I don't know, Scully."
     She tried to shake off the feeling.  "That airbag saved your life.  I'm
going to check to see if you have any broken bones, okay?"
     He nodded just slightly and closed his eyes.  She deftly ran her hands
along the sides of his chest, feeling for any telltale swelling or deformity.
She stopped abruptly when she felt the concealed, metallic object.  She
pushed his suitcoat aside to reveal the dagger in its protective sheath,
neatly tucked into the waistband of his pants.  She stared at the weapon, and
then at him, in horror.  A mass of confusing images seemed to assault her
simultaneously, but they were gone before she could make any sense of them.
She pulled the knife and case free.
     "Mulder, what were you planning to do with this?"
     "With what?"
     "Look."
     He opened his eyes and studied the weapon she was displaying in front of
him.  He, too, experienced a terrifying moment of recognition before the
details slipped out of his grasp.  "I don't remember, Scully," he said
uneasily.  "I honestly don't remember."

     Dana usually hated rush hour traffic, but this evening she was grateful
for the chance to compose herself and prepare for the meeting she'd put off
for two days.  She hadn't see Mulder since they'd transported him to the
hospital shortly after the accident.  She hadn't even realized he'd checked
himself out a day early until she stopped by to see him earlier this
afternoon.  She'd been strangely unwilling--unable--to face him, to look into
those eyes.  Only now was she beginning to understand why.
     Mulder suffered a fairly bad concussion, not a skull fracture.  Scully,
also, had a mild concussion but, fortunately, had not broken her shoulder,
only bruised it.  She recalled the inevitable meeting with Skinner--how he'd
questioned her, and how, faced with gaps in her memory she couldn't explain,
she'd finally been forced to make up the answers.
She'd sat at his desk, fidgeting nervously, as he'd read her written report.
Finally, he'd looked over his glasses at her, wearing that borderline frown
that suggested he didn't quite believe what he'd read.
     "Agent Scully,  Agent Mulder is experiencing some short term amnesia and
has been unable to file a report."  Mulder's not the only one, Scully
thought.  She had made a mental note to get her facts straight with Mulder.
"This report states that your automobile was found near," he double checked
the file, "Street, Maryland.  Isn't that a good deal north of Chase, your
destination?"
     "Agent Mulder and I made a wrong turn, Sir."
     "I guess so."  He paused, "You say that Agent Mulder was driving, and
this accident was the result of him swerving to avoid a large animal in the
road?"
     "That's correct, Sir."
     "Not the bigfoot in question."
     "No, Sir."
     "Did the two of you stop for _lunch_ along the way?"
     "Uh, yes, Sir, at a little roadside restaurant.  I don't recall the
name."
     "Does the name Dottie's Kitchen sound familiar?"
      She shifted positions. "I believe that could be it, Sir."
     Skinner sighed.  "An employee of that restaurant by the name of," he
checked the file again, "Sally Myers reported a couple fitting your
description to the local police.  She said they were behaving strangely, had
some kind of argument, and left without paying, so she jotted down the car's
license number as they left.   The officers traced the license number to a
vehicle Agent Mulder signed out of the motor pool that morning and then
notified us.  Can you enlighten me on this incident?"
     Mention of the restaurant made Scully decidedly uncomfortable.  She
remembered--fear, a mysterious girl, and a grim warning, but answered, "As
far as I can recall, it was an ordinary meal, Sir.  Agent Mulder and I rarely
argue.  As for us not paying, the waitress disappeared into the back after
she spilled something on her clothes.  We waited for several minutes but
couldn't seem to find her or a cashier, so Agent Mulder left the money on the
table.  We never saw anyone else in the restaurant but Miss Myers."
     "Are you saying she took the money?"
     Scully cleared her throat.  "I'm not making any accusations, Sir.  The
waitress seemed like a nice enough girl, but Agent Mulder and I had no reason
not to pay."
     He glanced up at her skeptically.  "I see."
     Smooth, Dana, she thought.  Can you make it any more obvious that you're
lying?
     After a moment of thought, Skinner closed the folder.  "That will be all
for now, thank you."  She was walking out his office door when he added,
"Agent Scully?"
     "Yes, Sir?"
     "If you ever want to talk about what really happened--off the record,
I'll be here."
     "I still haven't figured it out myself, Sir."
     Skinner mentioned nothing more about the incident.  The bigfoot murder
case was assigned to an unfortunate soul who didn't share Mulder's enthusiasm
for the paranormal.
     Scully requested, and was granted, a few days personal leave.  She'd been
plagued by disturbing nightmares she didn't understand.  Sketchy details of
the mysterious hours surrounding the car crash began surfacing little by
little, and at the strangest times.  A series of chilling recollections made
a simple trip to the mall almost unbearable.
     A pair of romantic, young lovers on a bench painfully reminded her of a
passionate kiss and the taste of Mulder's lips against hers.  A lunch visit
to a favorite cafe brought to mind the horrors that small, roadside
restaurant and her partner's vicious, inhuman temper.  
     Even more shocking was the set of images awakened by a knife displayed
in the window of a tobacco shop, which caused Scully to run to the nearest
restroom in tears.  Most frightening of all, a girl with long brown hair and
a loose fitting dress, reminded Scully of another young girl and two
different conversations they'd had, one she could distinctly remember and the
other she could not.  Badly shaken, Dana retreated to a nearby diner where
she hunched over a cup of coffee, willing herself to solve the mystery.
She clearly remembered Caitlin.  Familiar voice, aura of safety.  Her
chilling warning in the restaurant would be forever etched in Scully's mind.
     >Dana, an evil entity is in control of your partner's body.  It is very
old and powerful and it will try to destroy you.<
     Where had the girl come from?  How could she have known that?
     But she also remembered a second conversation, distant and dreamlike,
with that same young girl, and it hadn't taken place at the restaurant.  Had
it ever really happened?       She strained to recall what was said.  Slowly,
the words started to return.
     >Think back, Dana.  I know this was a difficult time for you, but
remember when you were in the hospital?  You were very far from home and you
needed help finding your way back.<
     In the hospital after her abduction, Scully could hear the voice.  In
fact, the same familiar voice.  Nurse Owens.  Scully's heart filled with
love.
     >Dana...Dana, Honey, I know you can hear me.  I'm here to take care of
you, Sweetheart.  Help you find the way home.  I know you're far away from
home tonight...<
     Nurse Owens had been leaning over her bed.  They'd been alone.  No one
had been there to hear those words, not even Mulder.  Scully hadn't even been
conscious at the time.  How, then, if Caitlin did speak those words to her,
did she know what had been said?
     That same, familiar voice.
     >I'll be here when you need me.<
     With a chill, Scully came to realize that Nurse Owens and Caitlin might
somehow be connected.  They might even be the same person.  Dana hoped it was
true. 
     As she turned down the road leading to Mulder's apartment, even more
memories began to bombard her.  Memories, like the second conversation with
Caitlin, so unreal she doubted they were even factual.  Scully desperately
wanted to block them out--a very different car crash, running through the
woods, something other than Mulder in control of his body.
     Something evil.
     As she pulled her car to a stop in front of her partner's building, she
realized why she'd been avoiding him.
     She was afraid of him.

     Mulder sat in the shadows, rocking back and forth, silently cursing
himself.  An endless void stretched out before him, black and inviting, and
he was standing precariously close to its edge. He'd told himself repeatedly
he'd been involved in a car crash--nothing more.  Why then was a very
different set of memories threatening to overpower what had actually taken
place?  Where did reality begin and the nightmare end?
     Fleeting images would play themselves out in his mind like a terrifying
movies, and in each one, he'd see himself brutally tormenting the one person
he truly loved.  The memories were indistinct, and he didn't feel like an
active participant.  He desperately wanted to believe that they were a result
of the head injury.
     But the silence continued.
     Each passing moment, each hour that he didn't hear from Scully merely
confirmed his fears that he'd actually done something to hurt her.
    He'd lost her forever.
     He cherished the memory of her delicate body against his--how it had
seemed so right, so perfect.  How he knew then, as he'd always known, that
she was the one.  But those kisses had been stolen and that was an
unspeakable crime.  He'd abused their relationship and betrayed her trust,
and because of it felt repulsive and unclean.  He'd tried to hurt her, and,
in so doing, destroyed his only chance in life for true happiness.
     The lure of the dark void was powerful.  One small step off the edge
would free him from this unbearable pain.  Cutting his ties with sanity would
bring the welcomed bliss of indifference.
     He was so close.
     Take the step, Mulder.  Release yourself.
     Then he heard the knock at his door.

     Any fear Scully felt melted into concern the moment she saw Mulder.  He
looked haggard and drawn. His eyes were that of a person on the brink of
madness and Dana wondered if any man could endure as much suffering as her
tormented partner had.  The tense muscles of his face and neck revealed the
emotions he kept locked inside.  He gestured her into the apartment and
listlessly shut the door.  It took Scully'e eyes a few moments to adjust to
the gloom.
     "Mulder," she said softly, "why don't you turn on some lights in here?"
     "Darkness suits my personality much better, don't you think?"
     "Mulder--"
     "Have a seat, Scully."
     He collapsed heavily on the couch.  Scully turned on a table lamp and
sat at the opposite end of the couch from him.  He'd obviously been sitting
in the dark for quite some time and squinted against the harsh light.  Dana
could see the thick bandage on his forehead clearly now.  He hadn't shaved
since he'd left the hospital, and his eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot.
They were both reluctant to break the silence.  Finally, in a carefully
controlled voice, Mulder said, "I can picture it all, Scully."  She didn't
have to ask what he was talking about.  "At first, it was just bits and
pieces.  I tried to convince myself it was just a trick of my imagination,
but it's coming back to me.  Every last, sickening detail."  He looked into
her blue eyes.  "You remember, too.  Otherwise you'd have been here sooner."
     "I remember...a car accident, Mulder."
     "What else do you remember?"
     "Nothing.  Nothing at all."
     "That's not true.  I can tell by the look on your face."
     "Okay," she said, nervously twisting the strap of her purse. "I've been
having alot of nightmares."
     "About what?"
     "I'd rather not talk about it.  It's not important."
     "It's important to me, Scully.  I need to know."
     "About a forest," she told him hesitantly.
     "And what else?" 
     "A knife."
     "And my death?"
     "Mulder, stop.  I can't--"
     "Please, answer me, Scully."
     All the color drained out of her already pale face. "Yes," she answered
with difficulty "about your death.".
     "Then you do remember."
     "I remember...something.  My memories are unreliable."
     "They are reliable, Scully," he said numbly. "I've been having
nightmares, too.  Something happened to us."
     "We were in a car accident.  Leave it at that, Mulder."
     "I remember more than a car accident.  What I remember frightens me.  I
can't stop thinking about it."
     "Then don't think about it--don't try to remember.  So, we've been
having some similar dreams.  There has to be a logical explanation."
     "I don't think so."
     "Mulder, you were injured.  Even I had a mild concussion.  Maybe the
nightmares are a result of--"
     "You know better."
     "I don't know anything of the kind.  My memories are all blurred
together.  I don't know what's real and what isn't.  Just take them at face
value.  Maybe it's better that way."
     "Do you remember how I treated you?"
     She blushed.  "Of course, I do. You weren't...yourself that morning.
You never really hurt me."
     "I remember it differently.  I deserve to die, Scully."
     "Don't ever say that."
     "We've spoken these words before." 
     Tears clouded her eyes.  Even more painful memories came rushing back.
"I remem--No, it never happened.  There was the accident..." she insisted,
knowing her words were hollow.
     "I can understand if you want to dissolve our partnership.  I can't
stand to look at myself.  I don't know how you can stand to be around me."
     "I'm happy with the partner I have."
     He shook his head.  "It's okay.  You don't have to protect my feelings.
You're afraid of me.  I could see it in your eyes when I opened the door."
     "I might have been...uneasy then.  I'm not now."
     "Scully, it's all right.  Something evil took possession of me.  That
much neither one of us can deny.  What I did to you in the office--the
restaurant--was unforgivable."
     "It wasn't you, Mulder.  It was your body, yes, but it wasn't you.
Besides, whatever it was is gone now."
     "What made it leave?"
     She couldn't answer.
     He leaned forward, resting his head in his hands.  "You'd have been
better off if you'd never met me, Scully.  I'm in a downward spiral, and I'm
pulling everyone I know down with me.  Get away from me while you have the
chance."
     Dana moved closer and gently put her hand under his chin.  She turned
his face toward her.  "Mulder, haven't you figured out by now that I don't
want to lose you?  My head tells me these memories aren't real, but my heart
tells me they are.  I don't know which to believe.  I _do_ remember the
knife.  I remember...killing you with it. I don't know why I would remember
something like that, but the thought terrifies me.  When I saw you
unconscious in the car after the crash, I was sure you were dead.  I don't
ever want to go through that again.  The thought of being apart..." Her voice
trailed off.  The idea was too difficult to put into words.
     He shook his head as if he couldn't believe what she was telling him.
"I've caused you nothing but pain and suffering."
     "Listen to me," she said firmly.  "If I'd never met you, I'd have missed
out on my closest friend in the world.  Mulder, you're the most important
person in my life.  No-one could ever replace you."  For once he was
speechless and simply stared at her in wonder.  "I want you to know something
else," she continued.  "What we shared in the office--the two of us
together--was real.  Don't ever doubt that for a second."
     "I wasn't myself.  I tried to take something from you I had no right to
take."
     "No, what I gave, I gave freely."  She cast her eyes down, suddenly shy.
"I would have given more..."
     It was the first time Scully revealed her true feelings.  In this
unexpected moment, his fears gave way to tenderness. "You really mean it?
You don't hate me?"
     "Mulder, what more do I have to say to convince you?"
     "Nothing, I believe you.  It was special for me, too.  I wish it could
have been under different circumstances."  He lightly touched the soft skin
of her cheek.  "Maybe we'll have another chance to..."
     She smiled and pressed her finger against his lips.  "We will."
     They both fell into silence.  After a few moments he said, "I've tried
to figure it out, Scully.  If it did happen--why? Why was I spared?"
     "In my head I hear a woman's voice.  She said that you were forced down
the wrong path and that our destinies lie elsewhere."
     "Who?"
     "Caitlin," Scully answered after a pause.  "She's been ...watching over
me."
     "The young girl?"
     Scully nodded.
     "Did she say that while we were in the restaurant?"
     "No," Scully replied, "I think it was afterwards.  I can picture being
in a forest."
     "But you were never _in_ the forest, Scully.  Unless--"
     "I know what you're thinking--unless something really did happen to us.
I have a hard time accepting that, Mulder."
     "Do you know who she is?"
     Dana thought for a moment.  "I have a pretty good idea."
     "Well?"
     She hesitated, "I think she's the same person who watched over me in the
hospital--only in a different form."
     "Like a guardian angel?"
     "I guess. Something like that."
     Mulder wasn't surprised by her words and seemed to take what she was
saying quite seriously.  Scully thought it a typically Mulder reaction.  He
was always the first person to take anything supernatural at face value.
"Well," he said with a smile, "if she's your guardian angel, Scully.  I guess
you're mine.  I think I'm going to need one."
     "Mulder, it's over. You were injured in a car crash and you're
recovering.  The only thing that matters now is that, despite all these
frightening memories, you're alive and we're still together."  
     Scully watched familiar shadows of pain return to his expression. "I
can't help but remember what Maggie Holvey said after all those tragedies
occurred during her son's possession."
     "What's that?"
     "She said 'Evil follows evil.  Once someone suffers a misfortune,
they'll always have bad luck.'  Scully, I had no control over what took place
a couple of days ago.  I have no control over what will happen tomorrow or
next week."
     "Mulder, it's behind us--it's over.  Whatever awaits us in the future,
we'll face together."
     Dana took him in her arms and held him tightly, wishing she could
protect him from all the horrors he feared--even if they were only in his
mind.
     Scully flinched as a gust of hot air suddenly brushed her arm.  Mulder
shuddered as the racing air burned his skin.  Scully saw a myriad of emotions
reflected in his face in an instant--recognition, disbelief, anger, panic,
and ultimately fear.  Absolute, abject terror.  His body began to tremble
violently and she could see fresh tears cloud his eyes.
     "Scully, did you--?"
     She started to answer but stopped short, staring intently at the desk.
Mulder also froze, his body rigid and tense.  Nothing moved.  The air hung
heavy and still.  Across the room, a few loose papers lifted from the desk
and fell silently to the floor.

The End