From: calobee@gmail.com   
      
     Umbra Reverie by 6hoursgirl   
     Summary: Mulder and Scully find their son, setting off a series   
   of events that force them to confront some painful and   
   terrifying truths.   
     Disclaimer: I love 'em, but I don't own 'em.   
     Category: X   
     Sub-categories: R,A   
     Rating: R   
     Spoilers: I Want to Believe, Season 10   
     Keywords: Mulder/Scully   
     Content: Post-Series   
      
      
        John Doggett stays at the safe house after Mulder and   
   Scully's departure. He can't wait long or there will be   
   questions, but he hopes to give them a decent head start. As a   
   dark stroke of luck would have it, the body doesn't leave much in   
   the way of evidence.   
        The only forensic analyst even remotely qualified to examine   
   that mess up there just left the scene.   
        He peeks at the woman's remains, but the term is too   
   generous to describe what awaits in the dark room at the top of   
   the stairs. His stomach turns, any grim fascination leaving him   
   in a final glance at the angry black pool of bubbling flesh. He   
   turns away, reaching into his pocket to pull out the cell phone.   
        "Yeah, this is Special Agent John Doggett, badge number   
   GHT0342032. I have a possible homicide at a local safe house; get   
   a team out here as soon as you can."   
        He gives the dispatch officer the address, and it's several   
   hours before two young FBI agents, a man and a woman, pull up in   
   a rented Chevy.   
        They're rookies judging by looks alone, barely out of the   
   Academy. The man's face is smooth, he probably doesn't shave more   
   than once a week. The woman wears heels that make Doggett think   
   she doesn't spend much time in this part of the country.   
        Since when did the FBI start hiring college kids? he   
   wonders, folding his arms as they approach.   
        "Agent Doggett?"   
        "That's me."   
        "I'm Agent Henderson, Federal Bureau..."   
        "Yeah, I figured as much, put the damn badge away. You got   
   the call, I take it?"   
        The young man, taken aback by the senior agent's unexpected   
   animosity, tries to recover. "Sir, we have reason to believe that   
   two former FBI agents were recently housed at this location   
   without official authorization. Do you know anything about that?"   
        Doggett narrows his eyes, but doesn't flinch. "I might."   
        The young man looks over at his partner nervously, and she   
   steps in. "They were said to be accompanied by a young boy and   
   his mother."
	"Mother's dead, the body's upstairs," Doggett   
   retorts. The shock on their faces would be priceless if he   
   weren't so preoccupied in covering for Mulder and Scully. "I   
   arrived before they escaped with the boy. We were attacked.   
   That's why I called."   
        "Uh...," the young agent falters, "I..."   
        "Attacked? By what?"   
        The woman's sharper than she looks, thinks Doggett. She   
   might make a decent agent some day.   
        He snorts. "Fucked if I know." This is the truth. He still   
   has no idea how to explain the smoldering body of Mrs. Van de   
   Kamp, which has almost completely melted into the upstairs   
   floorboards.   
        "Fox Mulder and Dana Scully took the boy and the car no less   
   than half an hour before your lazy asses got here. They're   
   headed south. Why don't you two have yourselves a wild goose   
   chase and leave me to the body? I've already called C.S.I.,   
   they'll be here any minute."   
        The two agents exchange looks again, clearly unsure how to   
   deal with the bossier, more experienced ex-cop standing before   
   them.   
        "Sir, with all due respect..."   
        "What I can't figure out," Doggett interrupts, raising his   
   voice, "is why you're both still standing here. Am I going to   
   have to tell your superiors that you let two former FBI agents,   
   one of them an ex-fugitive, flee a crime scene with a young boy?   
   'Cause lemme tell ya, I don't know how they do this out here in   
   East Bumfuck, Montana, but back in D.C. that's a fast track to   
   early retirement."   
        To Doggett's surprise, his intimidation tactic works. The   
   man, Henderson, takes a step back, visibly disarmed. For a moment   
   it looks as though the woman will stand her ground, but then   
   she, too, retreats, shooting Doggett a cold look. "C'mon,   
   Henderson. Let's go. Agent Doggett, did you..."   
        "I put out at APB on the car twenty minutes ago. Think I can   
   handle this."   
        That was almost too easy, he thinks as he watches the Chevy   
   tear off in the wrong direction.   
        He has called for an investigation, he'd been truthful about   
   that point, though he knows the team won't be able to explain   
   what they find any more than he could.   
        But that's the least of his problems. He'll have to answer   
   to Skinner when he returns to D.C., and likely face a panel of   
   higher-ups about why he let two former FBI agents escape with a   
   child whose mother lies dead in a Montana safe house.   
        He'd been truthful about another point, too. What had he   
   told the younger agents? "A fast-track to early retirement."   
        Yeah, he thinks morosely, that just about sums it up.   
   #   
        They stop occasionally to fuel up and stretch, taking   
   two-hour shifts across the winding, mountainous back roads. Isaac   
   remains silent, waking from his fretful sleep only to stare out   
   the window, then doze off.   
        Mulder and Scully don't talk, either. Whatever passed   
   between them earlier have been temporarily put aside; the events   
   of the last day have dulled their anger, but the tension remains.   
        "What will happen to him?" Scully asks out of the blue,   
   somewhere around mile 700. Isaac is sleeping deeply; he's calmed   
   down, no more tossing and turning, she's moved to the front to   
   give him space.   
        Mulder looks over, surprised to hear her voice. "If we get   
   out of this, you mean? Don't know...he'll probably become a ward   
   of the state. There's foster care."   
        She considers this. "I wonder if the Van de Kamps have other   
   family. An aunt or cousin...someone who could take him."   
        "I didn't see any mention of extended family in his file,"   
   Mulder continues. "Anyway...we have to figure out how to stop   
   these attacks first."   
        Scully nods, sighs, resting her head back against her seat   
   and turning away.   
        Mulder glances at her, desperate to continue this   
   conversation--anything is better than the cold, heavy silence.   
   "How's the hand?"   
        She looks down at her wrapped right palm. "Hurts like a   
   bitch, now that you mention it." She unwraps it slowly, grimacing   
   at the painful red blisters on her palm. "Second degree, not   
   big. We should find a first aid kit, though." She re-wraps it in   
   the scrap of sweatshirt, drawing in a sharp breath at the   
   contact.   
        "You're lucky it wasn't more than just your hand back   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
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    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)