From: larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca (Jess Archibald) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: new: Commitment 8/? Date: 15 Nov 1995 21:07:50 GMT Here we go again. This part will be short. They've put a time limit on the computer terminals at UBC! Commitment part 8 by Jess Archibald Raven Crest Mulder came awake again adn aly staring up at the ceiling for a long time. he still didn't know what this was about. No one had interrogated him about anything, but he was here for a reason and he wanted to know what it was. He wanted to know if Scully was all right and he wanted to know if they were going to kill him or just keep him here for the restg of his life, which might just be worse than death. So far the only members of the staff that he had seen were Taylor, the two orderlies, and the nurse with the needle fetish. During his dazed stupors, he thought he had heard other 'guests' calling out but he couldn't be sure. There were no windows, the lights never went off, so day and night were subjective. The room he was in was small and cramped, a cot against one wall, where he spent most of his time. He hadn't had anything to eat since arriving, they had probably been taking care of his nutritional needs through IVs while he was unconscious, which he was willing to bet was more than twenty out of twenty four hours. It was one hell of a way to go on a diet. When he had the time and inclination, he wondered if the other people here were bing treated the same way he was; if they were people the government wanted out of the way; if doubles of them were living their lives for them He also wondered if Taylor had lied about the double, about it all. Maybe this was all some sort of twisted dream and he *had* flipped out; consigned to a nut house of the rest of eternity. Willing that thought far, far away, he tried to figure out what their game was. So far he was totally baffled. He had never really given much thought to psychiatric institutions before and was now thoroughtly horrified by the conditions in them, hoping that this one was the deviant from the norm, that maybe he was being treated worse than the other patients here. Except he now found he was thinking of himself as a patient and that *wasn't* true. One thing was certain. If he stayed here much longer, he just might lose his mind. He tried to fill what waking hours he had with memories from his youth with Sam before she disappeared and with more recent memories with Scully, but the latter only served to make him worry about her. There was no way that a double could fool her for very long, a few days; maybe a week or two on the outside, depending on what she and the double were working on currently, how much tim they spent together, and after that...their only recourse would be to kill her unless... Unless the same thing that happened to him had happened to her. He was beginning to doubt his sanity; all the memories he had of alien encounters, mutant creatures, ghoulish cases, what if they were all just a product of his mind... He refused to believe that; he *couldn't* believe that... Once again, he drifted off into drug induced slumber. ********** Offices of the Lone Gunmen 7:34 p.m. The analysis was complete and Langly was frowning at the results. Frohike was sitting by the listening device equipment, idly fiddling with the dials, Byers was sitting out near the Hoover Building, as the impostor hadn't left for the day yet, and Scully just walked in , her whole posture changing almost as soon as she stepped throught the door. "That was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do," she said in a low voice, sitting down on the edge of one of the desks, her coat folded carefully next to her. She couldn't take this much longer. What she had really wanted to do all day was draw her gun and threaten to blow off the imposter's head if he didn't tell her where Mulder was, but that wouldn't work. Instead she was reduced to going about a familiar daily routine with the man, making nice, while watching her back every step of the way. It was making her scared; she had surpassed nervousness a day ago when the pieces stated to fall into place. If this kept up much longer she was going to slip up somehow. It took all of her self-control to even stay in the same room with the man; she half expected him to whip out his gun and shoot her at any minute. "I kept wanting to confront him." Confront was the polite word for it. "That wouldn't have been a very good idea," Langly said, hading her the printout. "Take a look at that. The compound was a narcotic that causes immediate loss of consciousness. No way something like that would be in Mulder's apartment unless he had a new hobby. This baby looks custom made, designer anesthetic for nosy federal agents." Some of the weariness left her face. "So Mulder is probably still alive." "No one goes through this sort of trouble just to kill someone." "It's the government," she said softly. "It has to be." "Wouldn't surprise me," Frohike put in, getting up to join them. "Mulder's been stepping on toes for years; it was only a matter of time before they decided to take care of him --- " "They've tried to have him killed in the apst, but *nothing* like this." She stabbed a finger at the paper. "This is -- it's insidious ..." "It's the government," Langly said simply, taking the paper back. "Nothing is too insane for them to pull, not even this." "So now what do we do?" Frohike asked, looking at the paper with interest. "And how did they pull this off? If it isn't one of those shapshifters then how did they find someong to look and sound like Mulder? It's incredibel. With the finerprints being so close a match, it would have to be something more than just the doppleganger that everyone is supposed to have..." "Right now, I don't care *how* they did it or even *why*," she said in a sharp tone. "What I care about is finding Mulder before they kill him." "Or you," Langly added. "Thanks for the reminder. Has this guy been meeting with anyone, calling anyone?" "Not so far. Byers is sitting on him now. It's like he's a ghost. No visitors, no phone calls, nothing." Langly tilted his head as a thought struck him. "He must have his instructions and has been told not to deviate from them. There's no need for him to contact anyone..." "What about the car that almsot hit Agent Shelton and I? That would have to have been set up in advance...maybe from his cellular or even the office phone.." She wanted to screm in frustartion of something. This couldn't be happening. Only with Mulder would such a thing be even remotely plausible. "Those are harder to monitor. You could bug your office phone, but the cellular's out." Frohike handed her a tiny device. "Ust stick that in the phone receiver at work and we'll be able to keep tabs on your office and any calls that you get there." Her hand closed over it. She didn't liek the idea but was willing to go along with it for now. "I think it's safe to say that we aren't the only ones listening in," Lanlgy said after a moment. "I'd bet that your place is budgged and so is Mulder's apartment, even your office...don't call us from any of those places..." "I haven't been anyway." "Keep it that way." "Has he been to see you at all?" "Not since you two left for Idaho." "Damn, this plan of their's could really work, couldn't it?" Her tone was soft. "Not if we don't let it," Frohike said earnstly. She smiled slightly. "In case I haven't said it before...thanks. I couldn't pull this off on my own." Both men grinned at her. "Like we would have sat this out," Langly said. We expose government conspiracies for a living, remember? This is just a little more exciting and personal than most." "A lot more personal..." **** =========================================================================== From: larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca (Jess Archibald) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: new: Commitment 9/? Date: 15 Nov 1995 23:19:49 GMT I had so much fun earlier today, I just had to post another part...I think I'm neglecting my studies...what a shame (snicker) Characters copyrighted 1993 by CC and 10-13 Productions. Story copyrighted 1995 by me. The story so far: Mulder's bizarre behaviour endangers Scully's life and she turns to the Lone Gunmen for help. They have discovered that the Mulder Scully's been working with is an imposter and are trying to discover what has happened to the real Mulder, who, unbeknownest to them, has been commited to a psychiatric institution in Baltimore. Commitment part 9 by Jess Archibald Day 20 12:23 p.m. Frohike sat in the front seat of the van, camera in hand and pointed at the two men sitting at an outdoor table at a cafe. The fake Mulder had met someone for lunch and Frohike was snapping pictures whenever it seemed prudent, wondering what they were discussing. The second man was in his fifties, gray haired, well tanned, wearing an expensive suit. There was an air of self confidence around him that Frohike could sense sitting some thirty plus feet away, making him sure that this man was somehow involved. He also wondered if Mulder was really still alive or if they were all just fooling themselves. He hoped that Mulder was all right and that they would find him before it was too late. Part of him was glad to be seeing so much of Scully, but on the whole, he devoutly wished the circumstances were different. For the past six days, she had been at their offices at all hours and in the past three, since they had discovered what was going on, the toll it was taking on her was all too bovious. After all, she had the hardest job; she ahd to spend most of the day with the impostor, pretending that everything was fine, that it was really Mulder she was working with, all the while worrying about her friend. Frohike was also glad that it wasn't him in that position. He would have given himself away immediately. The two men were still deep in conversation and that was one discussion Frohike would have traded half his info on congress to hear. ********** Hoover Building 1:00 p.m. Dana looked up as he walked back into the office, choking back the urge, as she had for the past three days, to take aim and open fire at thim. "Hey." He smiled a greeting, nodded at the stack of paperwork she was going through. "What's all this?" "Autopsy reports. Since we're not currently assigned to a live case as such, I thought I should go over some of these and see if there's anything of interest. It's the pathologist's version of a conference, sharing these reports." "Sounds interesting." "Try boring...how was your lunch?" "Boring." He grinned. "Your car fixed yet?" "Tomorrow," she sighed. "Maybe...I guess when we went to idaho the mechanic decided that I didn't care how long it took to fix it and now I can't convince him other wise." He laughed and she decided that he was in altogether too good a mood. It made her nervous. "When are you going home?" he asked. "I can give you a ride..." "I'm not sure. I might be here pretty late." No way was she going to go anywhere with him if she didn't have to. She wasn't going to tip him off, but she wasn't going to be stupid either. "Whatever." He went over to his desk and started going through some more profiles. The rest of the afternoon passed uncomfortably. ********** 6:49 p.m. Langly opened the passenger side door and climbed in the van, nodding at Frohike who had been waiting for him for nearly an hour. "They both still inside?" Langly asked. "Yeah. Here's the film of that guy from lunch." Frohike had already called the LG offices and brought Byers and langly up to speed. "Anything new?" "He and Scully are boring Byers to tears doing paperwork," he replied with an evil grin. Scully had placed the bug in the phone that morning and now the LG ould monitor every word that was said in the X-Files office;it didn't mean that it would be interesting. ********** 6:57 p.m. "That does it for me," Dana said, stifling a yawn, pushing the last file away from her. "I'm calling it a day." He looked up and gave a tired smile. "I think I've had enough too. Want to get some dinner?" "Not tonight, Mulder," she replied. "I think I'm just going to go home and go to bed. Reading these things is more tiring that chasing UFOs all around the country. Now I know the real reason you opened the X-Files." No real reaction; she had expected as much. He got up and grabbed their coats, tossing hers to her, shrugging into his own. "The least I can do is give you a ride." They headed out to the elevator. "I need to clear my head, Mulder," she said, forcing a smile. "All those reports are getting to me. I think I'll walk." The elevator came and they got in, punching for the main floor. "You sure?" He looked mildly disappointed, but she was willing to bet that the resent ment ran a lot deeper than that. "Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow." The doors opened and she headed for the front enterance, leaving him to go to the parking garage. The evening was clear, twilight already starting to descend as Washington began the headlong rush into night. Car headlights were on, street lights chasing away the gloom to form little cones of light that reflected off the pavement and blinded pedestrains before they passed into the darkness that hid between the lights. Dana took a deep breath before starting to walk. She really was quite tired and heading hom seemed to be a good idea. ********** When he got into the car, the first thing he did was make a phone call before pulling out if the garage and following her from about a block behind. ********** "This isn't good," Frohike said, setting out behind Mulder's car, Langly still in the passenger dear. "He's follwoing Dana." "Thanks for filling me in; I never would have noticed." Langly began searching his pockets for the number she had given them. "I know I have it here somewhere..." ********** The walk to her building was about thirty minutes at a nic pace, but Dana took it faster than she normally would have. Langly had phoned to say that the impostor was following her, with him and Frohike right behind, and she didn't want to stay out in the open for longer than she had to. When she reached her street, she could see that there was a van parked directly in front of her building. Instinct sent her right hand to her gun, while the need for reassurance sent her left up to toy with the chain at her throat. Keeping as far away from the van as possible, she tried to slip by to her front walk. The side door on the van slid open and two men practically erupted out of it at her. Her gun was out and aimed before her mind had really registered the attack, held steady as she jumped back. "Federal agent," she said clearly, authoritative register in her voice. "Back away." Neither one of them complied and without hesitation, she opened fire when she saw the knives in their hands. Her first shot caught one of them in the throat while the second hit his left shoulder, sending him crashing to the pavement, dead before he even hit the ground. Swinging her gun over to fave the second man, she saw that he was coming in on her left and that she wouldn't be able to bring her weapn into position in time to do her any good, so she improvised. As the man swung the knife in a lazy arc at her head, she grabbed his arm with her left hand, slammed her knee up into his groin, stepping back as he collapsed with a cry of pain, his free hand hitting her in the mouth as he went down, a ring on his finger catching her lip, making her taste blood as her head snapped to one side. Raising her right arm, she brought the barrel of the gun down on the back of his head, knocking him out cold. Facing the van again, she covered it with her gun, looking in at the man in the driver's seat, peering in at the side door, but not seeing anyone else. "Step out of the vehicle," she said slowly, gesturing with her weapon. "Slowly, keeping your hands where I can see them." "Scully?" Mulder's car had turned onto her strett and the man pretending to be her partner was walking toward her, something that looked like concern on his face. His gun was also out, pointed at the ground as he approached. "I thougth you might change your mind aobut dinner," he said by way of explanation. "You okay?" "I'm fine," she replied automatically, but her thoughts were racing. If she divided her attention between the man in the van and the one coming up to stand to her left, she'd be in a lot of trouble... "Too bad." She saw his expression change a split second before he acted and she stated to turn the gun in his direction as his came at her head. Just before she could pull the trigger, something made her hesitate and his gun connected with the side of her head, an explosion of sparks going off followed by blackness. ********** He watched with disdain as the driver got out of the van and came around to the side. "You could help," the driver grunted, hauling the unconscious Scully onto her feet and shoving her into the van. "not my repsonsibility," he replied with a wicked smirk. "you're the ones that screwed up. You'd better get out of here." The driver nodded, leaning over the woman for a moment to grab hold of something and yank it loose. "What about...?" "Take her gun and shoot me with it," he said. "Quickly before someone else comes along." "Shoot you, huh?" The driver looked happy at the prospect, scooping up her gun from the pavement and holding it loosely in his hand. "Not too seriously," he warned. "Flesh wound." "Maybe next time." The driver pulled the trigger, scrambling back into the van, behind the wheel and driving away. He clamped a hand over the wound in his arm, hssing a little at the pain, regarding the two men on the sidewalk. Truthfully, he never would have expected her to get a large enough advantage to take one of them out, much less two. He had severely underestimated her and was glad that he didn't have to worry about her anymore. ********** Potomac River 7:43 p.m. the rocking motion of the van brought her to nausea filled consciousness, the side of her face pressed uncomfortably against the rough carpet that floored the back of the vehicle. The van came to a sto before she could even sit up and the driver's door opened, the side door following a minute later as she was still arguing with herslef abou the merits of allowing herself to pass out agin. Self preservation won out, but the man who opened the side door had a gun in his hand that was aimed more of less at her chest when she finally dragged herself into a sitting position. "Get out of the van," he said, voice reasonably calm for someong who was probably going to kill her in the next minute or so, "or I'll shoot you right now." Slowly, shakily, she managed to climg out, one hand braced against the van, the other reaching for the lump that was forming on the side of her head. The cold night air helped diminish the dizziness, but not by much. They were on the docks of the Potomac, down along an old pier that looked like it had no businnes supporting the wieght of the van. There was no one around that she could see. "Where's Mulder?" she asked, finding her voice. He grinned. "The real Mulder," she amended, glaring at him. His grin faded, grudging admiration taking its place. "How long have you known?" "Long enough." The finger on the trigger guard tightened and she assumed that a more precise answer was wanted. "A couple of days. He's good, whoever you have pretending he's Mulder, but he's not good enough." "Evidently. Who have you told." "No one." She shrugged even though it hurt to do so. "Who would believe me?" "No one." He gestured with the gun; she noticed that it was hers. "Over by the edge of the pier." She obyed, trying to think of a way out of this mess. he was good, she had to give him that much, keeping well away from her, covering her with the gun, not giving her an opening that she oculd use. He was between her and the van, witholding whatever cover it may have provided, the rest of the city beyond that. it might as well have been the other side of the planet for all the good it was going to do her. "Where is he?" she asked again, hoping he would answer. "I'm not stupid, Agent Scully," he said, smiling with satisfaction at the look that crossed her face. "Just hold still and it will all be over." He raised the gun a little, finger tightening on the trigger. The edge of the pier was just behind her; if she could dive off the end before he pulled the trigger, she would have a chance... She threw herself over backwards as the sound of the gunshot filled the night, something hitting her hard, wrenching her around, open air under her, followed by a cold splash of water, fiery pain blazing through her body, chasing away the chill of cold water, leaving a black numbness in its wake.... *********** =========================================================================== From: larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca (Jess Archibald) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: new: Commitment 10/? Date: 16 Nov 1995 21:17:59 GMT Characters copyrighted 1993 by CC and 10-13 productions. Story, the characters of Doug Shelton and Robert Wainwright copyrighted 1995 by the author. COMMITMENT part 10 by Jess Archibald Langly and Frohike had wisely decided to abandon surveillance on the false Mulder and had taken off in pursuit of the van, following as closely as they dared as it approached the river. They had notified Byers of what was going on and he was standing by at their offices, waiting to hear from them. The pair heard the gunshot from their position at the mouth of the neighbouring pier, saw Scully lummet into the water, watched the man climb back into the van and drive away as fast as he could. They were out of their own van and running for the pier before the taillights were truly out of sight. Frohike slid to a stop just shy of the end of the pier, his arms windmilling briefly as his sudden halt threatened to toss him forward. Langly managed a more controlled stop by dropoing flat onto his stomach to look over the edge. "Scully!" he called in a stage whisper as Frohike knelt beside him. "Scully!?" Night had cast dark shadows over the water, making it hard for them to make out anything underneath them. Frohike had grabbed a flashlight on his way out of the van and he clicked it on, shining it onto the water directly below them. "There!" Langly said in triumph as he spotted a figure surrounded by a rapidly spreading stain of black, which was blood dyed dark by the late hour. As he pointed, the figure began to slip under the surface of the water. Frohike was already taking off his jacket, thrusting the flashlight as the startled Langly, shoving his glasses in the coat pocket as he tossed it to one side. "Frohike, what are you doing?" "What does it look like," snapped the smaller man before he jumped off the edge of the pier to land in the watwer, sending an icy spray up to smack Langly in the face. "Over there," he said helpfully, shining the light in the water as a beacon for Frohike, who swam out to meet it, taking a deep breath and disappearing under the surface. Langly waited tensely up above, the flashlight held tightly in sweaty hands. Watching conspiracies from afar like he usually did was much different from being thrust into one. Now he could completely understand why Mulder usually look so frazzled. Langly was surprised by Frohike's assertiveness, and tried to find a matching well of strength in himself. Frohike broke the surface with a gasp. Langly immediately flashed the light at him and saw that he had Scully with him. Relief washed through him for a second before he remembered the blood they had seen. "I need some help," Frohike called up. swimming for the pier, but hindered by Scully. "She's out cold; I don't know if she's still breathing or not." "Hang on." Langly found a ladder that would normally lead to any small boats moored below, and used it to climb down until he was just above the water, one arm bracing him, the other reaching for the pair in the river. Frohike got one arm wrapped around the base of the ladder and pulled Scully up to it until Langly got a grip on the back of her coat. "This isn't going to work," he said after a minute, trying to pull her up. Instead, he dropped into the water to join them, maneuvering until she was slung over his shoulder. with much effort, he managed to climb back up the ladder, Frohike right behind him. When they reached the pier, it was tempting to just lay there for a minute to catch their breath, but they didn't have the luxury. Instead, Frohike checked Scully's pulse while langly opened her coat to get a look at the bullet wound that was just under her right ribcage. "She's still breathing," Frohike reported with relief, shivering from the icy water. "The bullet went right through her side," Langly countered. "We've got to get her to a hospital..." "Bring the van over here. We shouldn't move her more than we have to." he reached for his jacket, scrunching it into a bundle and pressed it against the wound. Langly nodded once then climbed to his feet and started running back to their van, leaving Frohike to try and stop the bleeding, Scully's head cradled in his lap. Frohike retrieved his glasses and shoved them onto his nose so he could see better. He couldn't believe that he had just dived inot the Potomac to save someone's life. He was impressed if he had to say so himself. Scully let out a small cry as she began to come to, coughing a bit at the water in her lungs. "Dana?" he asked in a soft voice. he could see that Langly had just reached the van and was starting it up. "Fro -- Frohike?" She blinked rapidly, trying to focus. "It's okay. You'll be fine. We're going to take you to a hospital." "No," she whispered frantically. "No hospitals." "Dana," he protested, "you've been shot, we *have* to -- " "No," she said again, fighting pain to get the words out. "They think...think I'm dead...this may be our...our best chance of...of finding Mulder." "If we don't take you to see a doctor, you may die." The van was approaching, easing its way onto the pier. "They know...that I know...about...about Mulder...if they find out that I'm...I'm still alive...they'll kill him..." The worst part was that she was right. "What then?" he asked as Langly pulled up and got out to help. "Baltimore...Doctor Wainwright...residency advisor..." Her eyes flickered shut again and she passed out, leaving the two men to decide the next move. ********** Washington General Emergency Room 8:09 p.m. Agent Douglas Shelton had been about to head hom for the night when the call came in from the lcal authorities. Upon hearing the names of the agents involved with the incident, he had headed straight for the hospital arriving just after Assistant Director Walter Skinner, who was already holding court. Mulder came out of one of the examining rooms, an intern nervously accompanying him, trying to direct him back into the room. Doug headed for him "Mulder, what happened? I've heard three different stories since I walked in here. What happened to Dana?" The older agent gave a helpless shrug, wincing as the move ulled on his injured arm. Skinner joined them and also pressed for an explanation. "Agent Mulder, what the hell happened? There's a man in the morgue shot to death by a 9mm and another man in the E.R. under guard, with a severe concussion. I have one agent who's been shot and another one missing." "Sir, I -- " He broke off. "THere's still no sign of Scully?" "None. Right now, Mulder we don't have a clue. Neighbours say that there were several shots fired." "I was on my way to her place when I saw that she was being attacked by some street punks...I went to try and help but one of them got her gun away from here and opened fire on me, I had to take cover, couldn't shoot or I would have hit Scully...last thing I saw was her being shoved into a van...I heard another gunshot...they shot her..." He raised a tired hand to his head, covering his eyes in pain. "I tried, sir..." Doug cursed under his breath as Skinner's expression mellowed slightly. "We've got the local police out looking now as well as what agents we could spare. Did you get the license plate of the van?" Skinner asked. Muldre shook his head, eyes downcast, avoiding the other men's gazes. "I didn't get a chance to see it clearly...what about the other one, the one that's got the concussion?" "He still hasn't regained consciousness. He was hit hard with a blunt instrument." Yeah, I saw Scully hit him with her gun..." His face clouded over for a brief instant. "After all this, to lose her to street violence, it just doesn't make any sense..." "We don't know that she'd dead yet," Skinner said gruffly. "Shelton, I want you to take him home and make sure he stays there. I'll have someone call if we find anything. We'll find her, Mulder." "Maybe, but it'll be too late." There was no sorrow in that voice, only a bitter promise. *********** Fox Mulder's Residence 8:34 p.m. Letting Shelton take him back to the apartment, he promptly disappeared into the bedroom and shut the door. Almost immediately he had to sit down as the silent laughter boiled up in him. God, what a performance. The strain of putting on such an act over that bitch had almost mad ehim burst out laughing in Skinner's face. Oh, she was dead all right; Taylor's men had seen to that even if she had taen some of them with her. he supposed it was worth it; it would certainly make the next few months that much easier without her hovering over him; it had only been a matter of time before she figured out at least part of it. He only wished he could see the look on Mulder's face when he was told about it. ********** Raven Crest the orderly was back again, hauling him to his feet and propelling him down the hall. Mudler believed he was losing his mind; he thought he could smell Scully's perfume on the man. No straight jacket this time. Mulder didn't have the strength left to try anything. Taylor was waint for him in the room again. Dumping him in the chair, the orderly stepped back against the wall, trying to fade into the shadows, watching the federal agent with dark glitters serving as eyes. "Good evening, Mulder," Taylor said. "I'm afraid I've got some bad news for you." "Let me guess," Mulder said, his voice harsh from lack of use. "This has all been a misunderstanding and I'm free to go, right?" The orderly smirked with delight. "What's with him?" "He's always happy when his job gets done."' "And that would be?" Mulder was tired of playing twenty questions, tired of all this. He almost wished they would just kill him and get it over with. "Agent Scully is dead." "I don't believe you." It couldn't be true, it couldn't be...but he had smelled her perfume on the orderly...it *couldn't* be true... Taylor held up a thin chain of gold, a tiny cross gleaming in the light. And the bottom dropped out from under Mulder's world and his sanity. "You son of a bitch," he shouted, trying to stand and failing. His anger was directed at both of them, but his angry glare sought out and found the orderly. "What did you do to her?" "She took a late night swim in the Potomac," the orderly said with a nasty smile. he knew that there was more to it than that, and he promised himself that if it was the last thing he ever managed to do, he would kill both the men standing in front of him. Except he couldn't even got out of the chair he was in. Taylor smiled, dropping the cross onto the table, shoving it over to Mulder, whose hand closed over it in despair. "Why are you doing this?" he asked dejectedly, feeling tears starting to form in his eyes. "You've crossed the wrong people, Agent Mulder," Taylor said, leaning in, but careful to keep his distance. "they want you out of the way, permanently, but we can't do that quite yet." "Why the hell not?" "No one likes a martyr, Agent Mulder, so you need a change of focus." It was beginning to make sense. His double would be pushing him out of the X-Files, effectively changing his focus and when the time was right they would have him killed. he could see that now. Scully had been in their way; they had killed her. The metal of the cross bit into his hand where he clutched it but he didn't care. He felt like all the fight he had left in him had drained away and that he would never get it back again. If they ever even gave him a chance to recover it. ********** ========================================================================== From: larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca (Jess Archibald) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: New: Commitment 11/? Date: 17 Nov 1995 19:18:24 GMT Here's the next installment of this no so little epic. Thanks go to each and every one of you for reading this and for all the wonderful feedback. I was a little nervous about posting something so long and in so many parts, but you all have made me feel like I made the right decision... Standard disclaimer: see part 10. Perviously: Mulder's bizarre behaviour forces Scully to seek help from the Lone Gunmen. They discover that Mulder really isn't Mulder at all, but a government sanctioned impostor. When trying to uncover the mystery, Scully is shot and left for dead in the Potomac River, but it rescued by Langly and Frohike. The real Mulder, meanwhile, has been commited to a mental institution in Baltimore... COMMITMENT part 11 by Jess Archibald Day 21 Hoover Building 7:02 a.m. Assistant Director Walter Skinner had a headache. It had started last night when he got the phone call telling him that Mulder and Scully had gotten involved in yet another fiasco. with the two of the, he wasn't very surprised, trouble seemed to follow them everywhere, but they got their job done and idid it well. Or at least they usually did. lately, he sensed that something was coming between them, their usually close, productive partnership somehow subverted. Skinner was ready to bet that Mulder's willingness to set aside the X-Files had something to do with it and was inclined to let thing take their course with those two, purposely throwing mounds of paperwork at them until things settled down. he *wasn't* going to put them out in the field, especially after that incident in Baltimore. Unbeknownst to Scully, he had had Mulder in his office the next day to chew him out for not providing adequate back up for his partner. Frankly, Mulder's behaviour on that occasion had come as something as a shock as had his request to be transferred to Quantico for a couple of months, and Skinner's meeting with Scully had led him to believe that she was as bewildered as he. *Had* been as bewildered. Various reports had come in from at least two different precincts, ten field agents, and the lab, all indicating that Scully had been forced into a van, which no one could find, but could be place near the Potomac. A canvass of the immediate area conducted shortly after midnight had yielded blood stains on one of the more remote piers and the lab analysis had indentified them as being of the same blood type as the missing agent. Skinner's headache had gotten progressively worse after that. The hard part now was to notify Mulder. Skinner had already tired phoning his apartment, but had got his machine which meant that Mulder and Shelton were on their way back to the office. Skinner left word out in the bullpen that he wanted to see Mulder as soon as he arrived. Pushing aside the newest batch of reprts on at least a baker's dozen of investigations, Skinner pulled off his glasses and placed them on his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to ward off the headache that had descened on him. He remembered having to deal with Mulder the last time something had happened to his partner, how upset the man had been, how hwne she nearly died in a local hospital, Mulder had nearly thrown his career away along with her life. Skinner sincerely hoped that it wouldn't be the case this time. Fox Mulder was a damned good agent, even if he seemed to forget that fact more often than not. The Bureau needed him and his talents; hell, Skinner sometimes thought they even needed those damned X-Files as well. But Mulder needed Scully, that much was obvious to anyone who had ever seen them work together. Skinner wondered how well Mulder could function on his own, when practically the whole Bureau had ostracized him. It looked like it was time to find out. ********** It had been so hard to sit in front of Skinner and nod his head, say the right words at the right time, pretend like he was worried sick about Scully, who was most likley at the bottom of the river if everything had worked out right. Instead, he had concentrated on his arm, which really did hurt. He supposed that a bit of pain was worth it in the long run, but it didn't ease his discomfort any. Plus, he hadn't slept weel with that idiot Shelton in the apartment all night long, ostensibly to make sure "Mulder" was all right. It had meant that he couldn't call Taylor to see how things went, but he had successfully tucked away all his doubts and was now ready to get down to the task at hand, namely getting Fox Mulder the hell out of the X-Files so thta he could finally be taken care of once and for all. Personally, he didn't understand what all the fuss was about, why Mulder hadn't been taken out of the equation months, if not years ago. He didn't understand why one man had gotten so many people in an uproar by investigating UFO sightings and the like. But he wasn't paid to understand, he was paid to deal with matters. And now he had free reign to do so. ********* Day 22 Washington 11:56 a.m. Doug Shelton paced around the tiny room where he was supposed to be listening to a wiretap on a local drug kingpin. Everyone in the Bureau, it seemed, had already taken a whirl at it to supplement the investigation, although the assignment was officially Doug's, but he couldn't bring himself to listen in on what movie the drug kingpin and his cronies would be taking in that evening. there were enough redundancies in the setup that every word would be recorded and later transcribed, so Doug wasn't too worried about not doing his job. He had, after all, sat up all night with Mulder again, of his own accord, trying to reassure the other man. The truly weird thing was that Doug got the impression the *he* was more worried about the missing Scully than Mulder was and that just *couldn't* be. Doug tried to analyse his reaction to Mulder's behaviour and finally dicided to shrug it off as the man dealing with stress and worry in his own manner. Nothing wrong with that, it was perfectly natural. Why then, couldn't he shake the feeling that he was missing something? ********** Raven Crest They had started him on some sort of drug treatment shortly after his meeting with the chief of staff last night. It had left him so dazed he couldn't remember his own name or why he had the strongest conviction that he should hate these people here. They were only trying to help him get past his own delusions. And then the drug wore off and Mulder remembered everything quite clearly. The feeling of utter hopelessness and desolation returned along with his memories. He still had Scully's cross, having kept it when he was bundled back into his room, and he looked at it now, the clasp broken, speaking silently of the violence that had befallen its owner. It gave him an anchor though, reminded him that he wasn't insane, that all his memories of aliens, lunatics and mutant creatures had really happened. Slowly but surely his will to fight was coming back to him, despite the fact that he had enough pharamaceuticals in him to supply a total inventory for a major drug company. He knooted the ends of the broken chain and strung it around his neck, the cool touch of metal an icy thread of reality. The problem was that he was still too weak to prevent them from injecting him again and again, leaving him muddle headed and unconscious for much of the time. He was unsure how long he had been there now, time had ceased to have much meaning. What he did know however, was that if he didn't get out of there soon, he would die. ********** Day 23 Baltimore, Maryland 3:47 p.m. The first thing she realized when she woke up was that she wasn't dead after all. Heaven, she decided after a moment, would *not* (she hoped) have Frohike there to greet her, and yet here he was. When he realized that she was conscious, he all but leapt out of his chair, heading for the door to the room, throwing it open and calling to someone outside. As he did so, she took stock of her surroundings, the off white wall,s the wooden dresser and night stand, closet, floral paintings, gray shag carpeting. In short, she wasn't in a hsopital. But there was a medicinal taste in her mouth indicative of sedatives, so someone here had access to drugs. So where exactly was she? The answer came in the form of Dr. Robert Wainwright, who bustled in, wide grin on his face, twinkle in his eye as he surveyed her from the foot of the bed. "Well, Dana, I did say you should come visit more, but I never imagined I'd find you on my doorstep, shot and near drowned," he said mildly. She was confused and shot Frohike a puzzled look. "Don't you remember, Dana?" he asked hesitantly. "After Langly and I fished you out of the Potomac, you told us not to take you to a hospital, that we should find Dr. Wainwright?" Digesting this information, she though, <*Frohike* saved my *life*? Mulder, you're going to owe me big for this one...if we ever find you...> "I don't remember," she said honestly. Wainwright nodded his head. "You were probably in shock at the time. Not to worry thought, I patched you up just fine. You'll be out chasing the bad guys in another few days..." "No time," she said, fighting to sit up. "Whoa!" Wainwright said, reaching out with one had to stop her. "You have to rest, Dana, you know that. I would think that I taught you *that* much at least!" "Robert, my partner's life is in danger. I can't wait---" She lost her breath momentarily from a spasm of pain centering on her right side. "That is precisely why you can't go rushing off," Wainwright chided. "The bullet passed thorugh your side, not hitting any organs or doing much damage, but if you aren't carefully you could reopen the wound and it's possible you could bleed to death..." "It feels partly healed already...how long have I been unconscious?" "Over sixty hours. I had to keep you sedated, Dana, I know you and once your friends told me some of what was going on, I knew you'd leap right out of that bed and try to sort this whole mess out on your own." "Sixty hours?" she echoed. "Frohike..." "We haven't found out anything, Dana. Byers and Langly are still running taps on the aprtment and your office...he placed a call to samone named Taylor this morning, we're still trying to trace the call." "What did he say?" "He asked if you were really dead...they think you are." "What about everyone else?" "There's been a short press release...carefully worded of course...saying that you're missing but tht they can't prove you're dead..." She felt sick at the idea of putting her family though all this again, but she couldn't take the chance of letting them know she was all right, not when Mulder's life was still at stake. "There's this too." Frohike handed her a batch of black and white photos which she took carefully. they were of Mulder, or rather his double, and another man, taken outside a cafe. The other man looked vaguely familiar but she couldn't place where she'd seen him before... "those were taken the afternoon before you were attacked...we haven't been able to ID the other man yet, but Langly's working on it now." Frohike looked over at Wainwright. "I should call and let the others know she's awake." "You know where the phone is, young man." After he left, Wainwright looked down at her. "Robert," she began. "I'm sorry that you've gotten involved in this. I never should have told them to bring me here..." "You did the right thing, Dana. From what they told me, which wasn't much, I must say, taking you to a hospital would have either cost you your life or your partner's. Besides, I was happy to help. Nothging this exciting ever happened when I taught medical school." He smiled slightly and patted her hand. "get some rest, Dana. If you behve yourself, I may let you up and about tomorrow." He held up a hand to wave off any protest. "That young man said it. Eveyrone that poses a threat to you thinks you're dead. Nothing's going to happen if you get a good night's rest." She wanted to argue, but she was still so damned tired. As she drifted off again, her thoughts went back to Mulder. ****************** =========================================================================== From: larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca (Jess Archibald) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: new: Commitment 12/? Date: 17 Nov 1995 21:20:06 GMT What can I say? My creative side has triumphed over my rational, shouldn't-you-be-studying side. Here's another post...and for those of you wondered how long this story is...we've just reached the half-way mark! Disclaimer: see part 10 There's a synopsis in part 11 Commitment part 12 by Jess Archibald Offices of the Lone Gunmen 4:02 p.m. Byers got off the phone and looked over at Langly. "That was Frohike. Scully's finally woken up." "I was beginning to think she'd sleep through the rest of it," the other retorted lightly, but gave a silnet sigh of relief. he hadn't particularily liked having someone's blood all over him and was glad that it had been worth it. Besides which, he didn't want them to find Mulder only to have to explain to him that his partner had gottne killed while they sat and watched. Langly didn't think it would go over too well. Byers went back over to his computer, frowning at it. he was having a little bit of trouble getting into the phone company's records so that he could track the call their impostor had made that morning. It wasn't a big problem, but any delay cost them time they might not have. "Shelton's back," Langly said suddenly. He was monitoring Mulder's apartment now that the double had returned there after spending a day in the X-Files office talking to Skinner abou the 'missing' Scully and working in other divisions. his hints on switching sections were subtle, but to Langly they were as blatant as a faulty government cover up. Shelton had been over to the aparment quite a few times in the last few days and Langly could tell that he was genuinely concerned with how 'Mulder' was dealing with having his partner vanish on him again. "you'd better watch yourself, pal," Langly whispered as Byers came over to join him. "Don't mess with this guy." More than once, Shelton had broached the fact that he didn't think Mulder was reacting the way he should be. "what were they thinking when they started this plan?" Byers asked. "It's falling apart on them. First Scully and now Shelton. I think that it just might backfire on them..." "But they've still got Mulder." ********** Day 24 Baltimore 6:03 a.m. Dana woke up early and was out of bed and dressed before Wainwright had the chance to protest. She ahd found a change of clothes that fit her, a long full skirt and rather puffy white blouse more suited to Missy than her, and upon discovering amirro, she took a good look at herself, managing not to wince. Her lower lip was still a little swollen from where the one attacker had hit her, the lump on the side of her head still purple and swollen, the bruise spreading to along the outside of her right eye. She looked and found that the bullet wound had been stitched up with an expert hand, no sign of infection yet, but she would have to keep watching. it was the one thing that would slow her down, the wound still hurting like hell every time she moved, but it couldn't be helped. She had lost her cross somehow, and with a bitter pang of regret, she realized that it must be on the bottom of the Potomac by now. Frohike had left sometime during the night and when Wainwright got up nearly an hour after her, he found her on the phone, having a heated discussion with the LG. When she saw him, she terminated the call and hung up. "You shouldn't be doing this, Dana." he was looking at her with a strictly paternal expression. "i have to do this." "You should have gone into a surgical program," he sighed, "You had the ability." "Robert, I'm happy with what I do," she replied, refusing to rise to the old debate. "Your partner, this Mulder, is he worth this much heartache? Wouldn't it be easier to just bring this out into the open?" "That would get him killed, Robert. I can't let that happen. He's my partner,he's my friend. Nothing with him is ever easy and that includes getting out of the trouble he always seems to land him." She laughed, despair and fear behind the sound. "They should have partnered him with a baby-sitter, although he needs a doctor often enough..." She looked at him, eyes bright. "Let's just say things would be a lot duller without Mulder. I can't just abandon him to this. he was the only person not to give up hope on me, I owe it to him to do the same." Robert smiled. "Sounds like he's quite a character. Wish I could meet him." "When we find him, I'll make sure you do." Her breath caught as a sudden movement pulled on the wound. "Dana?" "It'll pass. In case I forgot to say it last night, thanks for helping me." He laughed. "I'm an old man, I have to get my excitement somehow." She managed to smile back. "You're not that old." "Compared to what?" he could tell he'd lost her again. She was staring at the stack of photos Frohike had left. "I know this man from somewhere, but I just can't remember..." Robert looked over her shoulder. "That's Mark Taylor. He runs one of the psych institutions in Baltimore, Raven Crest, I think." "Are you sure?" She sounded excited. Taylor was the same name the double had mentioned in his phone call. "Yes, I've had lunch with him a few times. Do you really think he's tied up with all this?" "I'm not sure yet. May I use your phone again?" "Help yourself. "Langly? It's Scully. I know who the man in the photos is." ********** Raven Crest Mulder was lucid again. He didn't know how long this respite would last, but he wasn't counting on it being long. He was beginning to wonder if all these drugs they were pumping into him would do any permanent brain damage; he wondered if he would be alive long enough to care. It would, he figured, take the double a fair amount of time to worm his way clear of the X-Files to avoid suspicion. But without Scully it would be an easier job. Without Scully... The urge to give into despair when he realized that she was dead was almost too great to resist. But resist he did, as much as he was able, for as long as he was able. Until they came again and he was lost to the blackness that was his only companion. ********** Offices of the Lone Gunmen 12:05 p.m. "We've got a location, Scully, what more do you want? An invitation?" Langly was glaring at her from his computer. She stared back, planting her hands on the table in front of her. "We don't know for sure if Mulder's there. If *any* of us goes within thrity feet of Raven Crest and Taylor finds out, Mulder is as good as dead, Langly!" The argument had been raging for nearly forty minutes now. Langly was sticking to his suggestion that they just go busting into the place and demand to see Dr. Taylor. Scully was being the realist and it wasn't going over well. "We can't wait much longer, Scully!" he shouted back. "Dammit, I *know* that!" she yelled, fighting her temper, staving off and attack of weak knees and dizziness. Robert Wainwright had warned her about pushing herself too hard and as usual she was too stubborn to listen well. "What would you suggest then, Scully?" Byers asked,trying to inject a neutral tone inot he discussion. He gestured for her to sit back down and after a moment she did, trying not to wince. Langly immmediately developed a guilty look and turned back to his computer terminal. "We need some help. I can't go into Raven Crest and neither can any of you. The impostor knew who you are so it's likely that Taylor would as well." "Scully, where can we go for help?" Langly asked in a quieter tone. "From what you've told me, I've got a good idea." ********** Washington 9:31 p.m. Dana stood out in front of the building and hit the appropriate buzzer, huddling deep into the cost she had borrowed from Robert's home. As it turned out, the clothing bleonged to his daughter who hadn't lived at home for years. "Yeah?" came a voice over the intercom and she bit back a sigh of relief, casting a quick glance over at the van parked just up the street. It had taken a fair bit of aruging to get the LG to agree to her plan and they had only agreed on the term that they weren't letting her go on her own. It seemed that langly and Frohike felt responsible for what had happened because they had just sat and watched her get shot. She had tried to get them to see that they would only have gotten themselves killed trying to intervene, but they wouldn't listen. Byers was for it on general principles. "Is someone there or not?" snapped the voice, shaking her out of her reverie. "Doug, I need to see you." "*Dana*?" Doug Shelton was incredulous. "What the hell..?" "Doug, please, can I come up?" "Yes, of course, hang on a second..." The door released and she stepped inside, waving briefly at the van before heading up the stairs for the second floor. the door to Doug's apartment was open and he was waitng for her out in the hall. "My God, Dana, what happened to you? Half the Bureau's looking for you and the other half thinks you're dead!" He looked her over carefully as he motioned for her to enter, coming in behind her and shutting the door. "Are you all right?" "I'll be fine in a few days," she said tiredly. In the bright light of the apartment, Doug got a better look at her and whistled briefly. "You don't look it." "I know." "Dana, not that I'm not glad to see you, because I am, but why are you here? Mulder's been worried about you; hell, *Skinner's* been worried about you!" She looked at him and wondred how she could possibly explain it all. he misunderstood her hesitation, and she could practically see the wheels turning in his head, eyes narrowing with suspicion and anger. "Mulder didn't have something to do with what happened to you , did he?" "In a way..." "Dammit, I *knew* something wasn't right aobut him! This time he's gone over the edge -- " "Doug, *no*! It's not what you think." She raised a hand to stop him. "Fox Mulder didn't do anything wrong...but the man whom you've been suspicious of isn't Mulder" He stared at her and then sat down heavily, waving her into a chair oppoiste his. "I'm not following you, Dana. What's going on?" She took a deep breath and began to explain, starting from when the car nearly hit them several days ago, working forward and backward as she went on. Doug's expression changed from neutral to disbelieving to stunned acceptance. "Why Mulder?" he asked when she was done, burying her face in her hands to collect herself. "I don't know, Doug," she said finally, lifting her head. "I'm not sure who he pissed off this time, he's so damned good at it. What I do know is that if I don't find him, he's going to be killed." The blond agent tugged at his hair; she could sympathize with that feeling. "you're taking a risk bringing me this, aren't you? I could be working with the ones responsible." she looked at him and thought of another agnet who had once seemed trustworthy, at least initially. But Doug wasn't another Krycek, he couldn't be. She'd known him for too long and she felt that he wouldn't betray her trust now. "Yes. yes, I am." he grinned briefly. "I'm glad you feel you can trust me with this because you can. I'll help you find Mulder." "Thank-you, Doug," she replied with a tiny smile of her own. "How about you though? you said that you were shot. How bad was it?" "Bullet through the side. Not good, but not as deadly as it could have been. I was lucky that it wasn't worse and that I had friends nearby to fish me out of the Potomac." "These frineds, who exactly are they?" She'd been purposely vague on this pointj, just in case things hadn't worked out as she had intended, but now it seemed advisable to bring them in. "They're right outside, actually," she said to his surprise. "They're called the Lone Gunmen and Mulder introduced us..." "Wait a minute, I've heard about hem. They publish an anti-government publication, don't they?" "That's one way of saying it," she admitted with a small smile. He thought this bit of information over carefully. "Good choice to turn to if you think that the government is really behind this." "With Mulder involved, when *isn't* is the government?* ********* =========================================================================== From: larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca (Jess Archibald) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: new: Commitment 13/? Date: 17 Nov 1995 23:22:47 GMT There's just no stopping me today! Disclaimer: (everyone in chorus now) see part 10 Commitment part 13 by Jess Archibald "How much longer is she going to be?" Langly groused, shifting in his seat behind the steering wheel. "This is taking too long." Byers bit back a sigh. "she's going to have to convince him that she's telling the truth. That could take a while." "Wait, here she comes," Frohike announced, peeering out form his position behind the seats. Scully came out of the building, Shelton right behind. they walked out to the sidewalk and then up to the van, Scully pulling open the rear doors so they could climb in. "I take it that things went well." langly turned in his seat to face the newcomers. "You might say that. Langly, Frohike, Byers, this is Agent -- " "Agent Douglas James Shelton," Byers interrupted. "born August 21, 1963 in Arlington, Virginia." Shelton blinked in mild surprise and then smiled faintly. "FBI records right? I always knew our security should be tighter." This won approval from the LG since feds usually flipped out when they realized that the trio had access to records that were supposed to be sealed tightly. Scully hated it when they pulled this stunt; Mulder had had the good sense to warn her ahead of time the first occasion they had tried it on her, feeding her information on *them* to turn the whole thing around, but it still bothered her. "Very good, Shelton," Langly said. "so, Scully, now what?" "Now we head to Raven Crest...first thing in the morning, Doug will get an interview with dr. Taylor and see what he can find out about the place." "Then why are we going there now?" "Frohike, haven't you ever wanted to *legally* stake out a place?" Scully asked with a mischievous expression. "Now's your chance." "I can hardly wait," said the small man with a grin. ********* Day 25 Raven Crest Baltimore, Maryland 9:03 a.m. "Scully?" "Hmmm." Dana opened her eyes as Langly poked her shoulder gently. they were in the back of the van with Byers while Doug and Frohike were up front. "What time is it?" she asked hoarsely, surprised to discover that the sun was up. "Just after nine," he replied. "We just spotted Taylor going in." Last thing she recalled it had been quarter past five in the morning. "Did anyone else get any sleep?" She pushed hair out of her eyes, stifling a yawn. "Not really, but nobody else got shot a couple of days ago, so we figured you were entitled." "Thanks. I think." "Hey, Scully, mind if I ask you a question?" he went on in a quieter tone. she thought. "Go ahead." "The other night, why didn't you just shoot that guy?" "Which guy?" "The other Mulder. You hesitated, Scully, and that almost got you killed." She bit her lip. "you saw that , huh?" He nodded. "I don't think Frohike saw though. He was too busy wincing." She exhaled slowly before answering. "I couln't pull the trigger...any shot I would have made then would have killed him...it would have been too much like killing Mulder." The answer seemed to satisfy him for the moment. "I...ah...I'm sorry that I argued with you yesterday. You know more about these sorts of situations than I do..." She knew that was a costly admission and she appreciated the gesture. "Thank-you. Langly. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have gotten so carried away. We're all tired and worried about Mulder. It's beginning to wear us down." Byers finally shifted over to join them, handing her a cup of coffee. "We made a coffee run about half an hour ago." "Thanks. Doug, have you called in yet?" She leaned forward to hear his answer. "Yeah. I spoke to Tony Hess and told him that I had to take care of some personal business. He's taking over the wiretap for today." "Who are you running it on?" Langly asked with interest. "I -- ah -- can't really say...it's classified." The LG exchanged grins while Dana groaned. Saying the word 'classified' was like waving a red flag in front of these three. when this was over, they'd probably spend half an four figuring out who Doug was listening to; she wasn't naive enough to think it would take them longer than that. "Nice going, Doug," she said, patting his shoulder while he watched the LG's expressions warily. The movement pulled on her side and she managed to hide the grimace it caused. She hoped that she wouldn't have to move too fast today; she wasn't sure what the result would be. "Taylor's gone in. What now?" She changed positions slightly to get a better view of the place. It was a two story building with far fewer windows than most, the gournds hunched all round it, its doors a foreboding black painted wood. There was a tall fence of bars surrounding the place, but the gate stood open, no one walking on the brown lawn, no one visible in what few windows they could see. It was one of the most depressiong places any of them had ever seen. "Byers, what did you find out about this place?" she asked. The van held computer equipment that closely paralleled the setup in their offices and could be used in the same manner to hack into information systmes. During the night, Byers had dug around in several databases to see what he could find pertaining to Taylor and Raven Crest. "It's a private institution -- " "Not as much security as a government facility," Doug interrupted apologetically. Byers nodded before continuing. "Taylor's been head of it for five years, had various articles published in medical journals; he's a psychiatrist not a psychologist." "Maybe that's where I've seen him before," Dana muttered, but she wasn't sure. "There isn't any money trail taht leads back to the government that I can find, but I didn't have time to do in depth background checks on all the backers. That doesn't mean the government still isn't involved somehow..." "Any way to get into their records from here?" "Not really, Shelton, unfortunately. There's not too much else I can tell you." Byers met the eyes of each agent in turn. "I don't know what else to say..." "I do," Dana said assertively. "Dou, I need you to talk to Taylor, about what I don't know, but think if something...ask for advise on a profile of *somekind*. Make it up if you have to. Frohike, do you still have any of those 'bugs' that we planted in the apartment and the office?" "Yes." He found one and gave it to her. "Doug, I want you to plant this somewhere in Taylor's office. We need to find out everything we can and this is the safest way to do it." Doug looked at it then at her. "Dana, I don't know about this..." "Doug, we aren't going to be able to save Mulder by playing this by the book. It doesn't have chapters dealing with when the government kidnaps your partner and replaces him with a duplicate while God knows what happens to him. If we stay on the straight and narrow, Mulder will *die*, don't doubt that for a minute. This is his way of sneaking off for a paid vacation." "No, I guess it's not." He took the device from her as Frohike rested a hand lightly on her shoulder until Langly swatted his head not so lightly. "Ouch!" "Doug," she continued, glancingbriefly over at the LG who seemed to be out to double as the three stooges. "I know that this is hard for you...if you don't want to do it, I'll understand...I had to make similar choices with Mulder..." "What, the prim and proper Agent Scully walked the brooked path?" Doug placed a hand over his heart in mock terror. "How will I ever measure up?" "Doug..." "Seriously, Dana, I said I'd help and I will. Just tell me what to do and I'll do ti, even bug this guy's office." ********* "What do you mean there's a federal agent here to see me?" Taylor snapped into his phone to his secretary. "Yes, I see. Did he say what it's about....no..send him in." Slamming donw the phone, he picked up a pen from his desk and twirled it in his fingers, trying to calm himself down. Just because there was an FBI agent here it didn't mean that they were on to him...not necessarily. The office doors opened and a tall man entered, early morning sunshine glinting off blond curls. "Dr. Taylor? I'm Agent Shelton," he said, extending his hand as Taylor rose to his feet. "I'd like to discuss a case history with you, if you wouldn't mind. The FBI finds that going over cases with outside experts helps bring all angles into an investigation." Taylor began to relax, amused by the irony of the FBI cming to him for help on a case while one of their experts on applying psychology to criminal cases was about to get his daily drug treatment. "Anything I can do to help the FBI..." ********** The drugs were beginning to take their toll more than ever. Mulder could barely keep his eyes open now, spending more and more of his time unconscious. he hadn't seen the chief of staff since he had learned of Scully's death, but that was scarcely a relief. At times, he had trouble remembering his own anme, let alone the fact ath he was being held here against his will, not that anyone would have listened if he had had the strength to tell them. After a while, the words ceased to have meaning. ****** =========================================================================== From: larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca (Jess Archibald) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: new: Commitment 14/? Date: 20 Nov 1995 06:49:31 GMT Well, we've past the unlucky 13 mark and the rest should all be smooth sailing...at least for the readers (smirk). But with this group, 13 might be a lucky number after all... For all those requesting parts, I'll try to get them off to you tomorrow...honest... Disclaimer: (God I hate this part...we need to come up with a catch phrase everyone can use and knows what it means...it would save time and reading...) Characters copyrighted 1993 by CC and 10-13 productions. Story, the characters of Doug Shelton and Robert Wainwright are all mine...unless I get a better offer...;) Story to date: Mulder's behaviour endangers Scully, who seeks help from the Lone Gunmen ( yes, even Frohike...she was desperate, okay?!) and the four discover that their Mulder is an imposter. The real Mulder, unbeknowenst to everyone who could help him, is being held in a psych hospital in Maryland. After an attempt is made on Scully's life, she disappears from sight, recovering from a bullet wound. Eventually she and the LG seek help from another Bureau agent named Doug Shelton. Shelton is about to interview the head of a Baltimore mental hospital... (If this keeps up, these blurbs are going to be longer than the story...) COMMITMENT part 14 by Jess Archibald Doug was beginning to run out of things to say to Taylor. He had exhausted the avenue of case studies mainly because profiles weren't his specialty unless they were profiles of eligible women and that didn't really help right now. "I'm more than willing to help, Agent Shelton," Taylor was saying and Doug thought he could see the birth of suspicion in the other man's eyes, "but I don't really see where this interview is going." Doug thought sourly, the weight of the electronic listening device heavy in his hand where he had palmed it. Where in the world was he supposed to put it? "Doctor Taylor," exclaimed a nurse, bursting into the room. "Mr. Cooper's at it again...shouting about Sam and little green men..." Taylor climbed hastily to his feet, shooting Doug a discinctly uncomfortable look. "Now, now, Julia, how may times do I have to tell you that when I'm in conference I am not to be disturbed. This is Agent Shelton of the FBI..." At the sound of the words FBI, the nurse's eyes narrowed so slightly that doug almost missed it. Almost. he thought, getting up. "I was just about to leave," he said smoothly, winking cheerfully at the dour looking nurse who blushed slightly. On his way out the door, Doug ran his right hand against the edge of the bookcase that bordered the wall by the door, pressing the bug up underneath the lowest shelf he could reach until it stuck there. ********** Out in the van, the quartet were listening anxiously to every word that was being sent, the bug still sending out a signal althought it hadn't been placed yet. "Sam?" Byers asked, a glint in his eye. "Little green men?" chorused Langly and Frohike with delighted grins. "Mulder," Dana whispered, sitting in the back of the van. She suspected that the ridiculous expression on her face was similar to the ones on those of the LG. "Mr. Cooper, huh?" Byers said, going back to the one terminal. "I'll see if I can pull his file out of their records." "I thought you couldn't do that," Dana said. That set them off in a fit of laughter that lasted for nearly a full minute. "The day we can't get into a computer system is the day we stop publishing," Byers grinned. "We don't even need the Thinker for this one." "So in other words, you lied to Doug." "Yep." Langly looked like the cat that had savoured, swallowed and digested the canary. She shook her head in mock disgust but she wasn't really too surprised. The back doors to the van were pulled open and Doug climbed in. "Well?" "That Mr. Cooper the nurse mentioned," Dana said, smiling at him. "It's Mulder...it has to be..." "Yeah, she clammed up pretty fast when she heard I was FBI..." "It's a gift you guys seem to have," said Langly mockingly, hunched over his surveillance equipment. "We can't stay here much longer," Frohike pointed out. "Not without raising suspicion. If we pull around the corner, we can still hear the signal just fine...we used the equipment in the van to act as a relay for the transmitters in your office and Mulder's apartment, Dana." "Do it," she said, eyes narrowing in speculation. "How the hell are we going to get Mulder out of there?" "Disguise one of us as a staff member and sneak him out?" Langly suggested. "Too trite," Byers retorted. "How about using the computers to falsify their records, making them think that Mulder's to be transferred to another facility, then we can step in to get him?" "Taylor's in on it," Dana reminded, shaking her head. "And so's some of the staff. They'd never fall for it." "We could just go in, use our badges, call the Baltimore Bureau for back up," Doug said, rubbing a hand over his chin. No wonder the staff there had been looking at him funny. He had just enough stubble to be noticeable. "They'd say we neede to get a court order first and by that time they would have either moved Mulder or killed him," Dana said. "And if just the two of us walk in, I wouldn't lay bets on us getting back out." "Think they'd risk killing us there?" Doug was surprised. "Why not? They've already tried killing me everywhere else." She massaged her temples, warding off the headache that was developing. "There has to be another way..." "Dammit Julia," said the voice of Taylor, startling them all as Frohike moved the van around the corner, just out of sight from Raven Crest. "I've warned you about barging into my office like that. You're damned lucky that nothing came of it this time, but I don't want you going all around talking about a certain Mr. Cooper and I don't give a damn *what* colour aliens he talks about. If he gets out of hand just sedate him again..." "Bastard," Dana said in a dangerous tone. Getting Mulder out was going to be only half the problem from the sounds of things. A drug addiction was a very real possibility. The others waved her into silence. "What about that agent?" asked the nurse. "What was he here for?" "Supposedly, to seek my advice for the Bureau on some cases that they are working on." the reply that the nurse gave was a disbelieving grunt. "Yes, that's what I thought, but the man didn't seem too much of a threat. It seems our government is hiring every would be surfer these days." Langly nearly choked trying to hold back his laughter and Doug glared at him until he noticed that Dana was smiling slightly as well, making him throw up his hands in disgust. "What about our problem?" the nurse was saying. "Cooper or Mulder, whichever you prefer, won't be a problem for too much longer. Plans are under way which will eliminate the mantle of security behind which he's been toiling." Dana decided that she didn't like the sound of that one bit. ********** Hoover Building 5:02 p.m. Skinner went looking for Mulder when the agent missed a four forty-five appointment with the AD. He finally tracked him down in the parking garage, about to leave for th day. "Agent Mulder," he called, taking quick strides to stop the man before he left. "Sir?" Mulder turned to face him. "You were supposed to be in my office fifteen minutes ago, Mulder," Skinner said, coming to a halt beside the other man. A flash of something -- annoyance? -- raced across Mulder's face. "I'm sorry, sir. I forgot..." "You seem to be doing that a lot lately." Skinner made his tone more gentle. "Mulder, it might be a good idea for you to take some time off. I know that things haven't been easy for you the past few days..." he was shadow dancing around the real issue which was the fact that Scully was presumed to be dead at this point and that Mulder was enduring the pitying looks of the other agents. Rumours were beginning to spread that 'Spooky' Mulder was on the verge of an emotional collapse. Skinner looked at the man before him and was inclined to belive that. So far, after that first day, Mulder hadn't shown any real grief or emotional turmoil of any kind, which meant to Skinner that it was only a matter of time before something gave way. Mulder gave a bleak laugh. "Scully is *dead*, sir, and you think that the last few dys haven't been *easy* for me?" "Mulder -- " "I think a few dys off would be a good idea." "Good. SCully's mother and sister are coming to Washington tomorrow if you want to see them -- " "No." The word was nearly shouted, a panicked look emerging briefly on the man's face. "I don't hink that I -- I could face them right now..." "Mulder, what happened wasn't you fault," Skinner said gently, reaching out to touch the younger man's shoulder briefly. "I know that, sir, but it doens' make it any easier." He shrugged off the hand and started to his car again. "Take as much time as you need, Mulder the X-Files can wait..." "Sir, as far as I'm concerned, they can rot in that damned office. They've cost me more than I was willing to pay." "Mulder, we've been through this before. Take a few days and if you feel the same way, we'll discuss it." The younger man got in his car, pausing before clsing the door. "I won't be changing my mind." Skinner stared after him for a long time. ********** Residence of Robert Wainwright 9:04 p.m. They were holding a war council in Robert's living room. Taylor had left for the nigh nearly three hours ago and after another hour of sitting outside Raven Crest, they had come to the conclusion that nothing else was going to happen tonight. Most of the group had been prepared to stay the night in the van, but Langly and Shelton had ganged up on the others in a surprising fit of fellowship. Langly complained that they were bound to be noticed if they stayed near the institution all the time and Shelton worried about Scully's health, who truth be told, wasn't feeling so hot and had spent the afternoon alternately tormented by the fact that Mulder was so damned close and drifting into exhausted sleep that lasted only briefly. By seven the van was littered with fast food containers, Taylor's office had been empty for nearly an hour, and the closed confines were beginning to wear on frazzled nerves. While Byers and Frohike worked at hacking into Raven Crest's files on Cooper, and Scully dozed off again, Langly took the iniative to start driving. The ensuing protest had lasted as long as it took Shelton to shout everyone else down and Langly to find the nearest street sign. They hadn't picked a destination when Frohike discovered that Scully wasn't so much sleeping as passed out. Robert's home had seemed like the logical place to go, even when she had come to a few minutes later. The elderly doctor was only too happy to see them and had waved Scully's half heared protests off with a sweep of his hand. He liked the idea of helping the government agents even when their actions weren't exactly being sanctioned. So far the ideas being put forth at their conference were too wild to be of any use. "This isn't getting us anywhere," Shelton said finallym running a hand through his hair. "for right now," Byers said carefully, rubbing his beard, "Our best course of action is to maintain surveillance of Dr. Taylor and hope that we find something we can use." "Which could be never," Langly muttered under his breath. Scully was looking out the window, her back to the group. "Dana, what do you think?" Shelton asked. "I'm not sure anymore. I can't stand the thought of Mulder being stuck in that place, but I'm not willing to do something stupid that may risk his life..." "Life is a risk," Robert said after a long silence. "I don't pretend to know even half of what's going on here, but I do know that you can't let your friend stay there much longer." Scully swung back to face them. "For now, we'll follow byers suggestion, but if we haven't found anything out by tomorrow night, we'll have to try something else. Doug, you'd better go back to work tomorrow...we can't afford to arouse suspicion at the Bureau right now." He nodded reluctantly. "But I'll be ready to come out here if something happens." "I know, Doug, and thank-you." Frohike made a small disgusted sound which made Byers and Langly lsugh tiredly. Scully smiled lopsidedly. "Thank-you too, Frohike...all of you.: the small man smiled back. Shelton grinned. "Just hang in ther, Dana, this is almost over, I can feel it." "So can I," she replied, her only hope that what she was feeling wasn't dread. ********** ===========================================================================