From: ceilidh_o@yahoo.com   
      
   TITLE: Disciple (Part 2/4)   
   AUTHOR: CeilidhO   
   CATEGORY/KEYWORDS: X-File; MSR; AU- Casefile   
   RATING: R, probably, for violence and occaisionally disturbing   
   descriptions of criminal activity. Warning: Involves violence   
   against children.   
   SPOILERS: In theory, everything up to "Fight the Future".   
   DISCLAIMER: I own nothing here, and intend no copyright   
   infringement. All characters and ideas are the property of Chris   
   Carter, 1013, and the FOX network. No profit will be made.   
   SUMMARY: What if Scully had accepted the transfer to Salt Lake City?   
   Five years later, a horrifying murder case reunites her with Mulder,   
   even as it threatens to rip her new life apart.   
      
      
      
   - - - -   
      
      
   V   
   The New Canvas   
      
   Soft piano tinkled from the corner as Scully walked into the   
   restaurant, the soft lighting aggravating her eyes.  The phone call   
   from Rob had come after the initial excitement of her discovery,   
   asking her to meet him at eight at the Piastra restaurant on State   
   St., not far from the FBI building.  He sounded happy.   
      
   Scully had been at work for the rest of the day, writing up the   
   autopsy report in full, filing it with the others, barely able to   
   keep still until she had written her theory down and placed it on   
   top of the case file.  Mulder and Paring had shut themselves in the   
   office, bouncing ideas off of each other, sharing their thoughts,   
   their theories meshing and supplementing each other, spinning off in   
   new directions.   
      
   Scully was envious, remembering when it was her, and only her, whom   
   he trusted with his thoughts.  She knew she was ridiculous feeling   
   it. Agent Paring was like him, someone trained to do just what they   
   were doing, trained to do something she could not.  Still, it hurt   
   more then she would have expected.   
      
   She had been glad to get away at seven, her head clouded and her   
   thoughts fuzzy, glad to go home and change for the emergency   
   immersion back into her real life.  She had to work at sharpening   
   her gaze, at keeping her mind on the things directly in front of   
   her.  She felt like everything was slipping away slowly and quietly,   
   like being too silent at a party and then suddenly realizing that   
   you are alone, that everything had moved on without you.   
      
   Scully felt like asking someone to slap her, or shake her, anything   
   to wake her up.   
      
   The marble of the restaurant foyer clicked beneath her heel.   
   The headwaiter walked up to her, extending his hand, his expensive   
   cologne wafting over her.   
      
   "You must be Dana Scully.  I was told by Mr. Abrams to watch for an   
   exquisite lady with equally beautiful red hair.  I knew you just had   
   to be she."  His voice was oily and slick.  Scully worked very hard   
   to smile.   
      
   "That's very kind of you to say."  She managed to get out.  The   
   waiter inclined his head, gesturing grandly with his hand toward the   
   seating area.  Scully followed him past the red velvet rope, to a   
   beautifully set table in the back.  Rob stood up as she approached.   
      
   "Hey, Dana.  You look gorgeous." He murmured.  Scully reddened   
   slightly, feeling herself relax as she took in his familiar face.   
   She suddenly felt on the verge of tears.  She leaned forward to kiss   
   him softly, touching his cheek slowly with the tips of her fingers,   
   and then pressing her whole palm against it, feeling the stubble   
   just beginning, marring the silk of his skin.  Through her palm she   
   held him like a lifeline, slowing the wild spinning exit of her   
   thoughts.  Gravity seemed to reassert itself on her mind, and it   
   settled back like the talcum from her gloves.  She took a deep   
   breath.   
      
   Rob looked stunned.   
      
   "Wow."  He murmured.  "I've missed you too."   
      
      
      
      
   The car slid quietly into the parking space, the streetlights   
   reflecting in tiny constellations off the roof and sides.  Scully   
   shut the passenger door behind her with a gentle thump, staring up   
   at the sky as she waited for Rob.  She heard his door shut.  The dim   
   orange light in the car faded and died.  He took her hand, walking   
   her in silence to the door of her apartment, standing silhouetted   
   with her against the night.  His eyes were troubled.   
      
   "Dana…" He began, and then changed his mind.  "Oh, god.  I'm so   
   sorry you have to do this.  It's not something anyone should ever   
   have to deal with, not ever.  Those poor boys… Their poor parents…   
   Oh, man…" His eyes were glittering.  She couldn't stand to see it.   
   He gazed at the doorknob, at the ground, anywhere but her.  She   
   slipped her hands over his cheeks, touching the corner of his eye   
   with her thumb.  Rob looked up then, and kissed her suddenly,   
   breathlessly, and then hugged her to him.   
      
   "Dana," he whispered into her shoulder.  "Can we call Tyler?"   
   She understood completely.   
      
      
   Later in the night she watched him sleeping beside her, his arm   
   thrown across the bed, his hand dangling limply off the edge,   
   fingers trailing in the still air.  She imagined that he was dead.   
      
   Suddenly, he was, his pale, cold flesh hanging off his bones, his   
   eyes, livid red and blank, staring up at her, bruises deep on his   
   neck and wrists.  And then the blood, seeping over her white sheets,   
   pouring from his back, glittering dark in the moonlight, running   
   over the bed toward her…   
      
   She opened her eyes with a snap, gasping in mute horror, hair   
   streaming over the pillow behind her.  The moon shone through the   
   curtains, illuminating only the slight sheen of sweat on the body of   
   the man beside her.   
      
      
      
   *The man stood, resplendent in the candlelight, the same golden   
   shadows sliding over the bare bodies of him and the boy.  The boy   
   was empty, his purpose fulfilled, his soul departed, leaving the man   
   with only the used canvas of his body.   
      
   It was not enough.  It never was.  True, the canvas was beautiful,   
   and it was his, but it was not a masterpiece.  With each canvas his   
   art improved, but never enough to satisfy him.  The wings he saw in   
   his visions never made it perfectly out through his hand, and it   
   only increased his frustration.   
      
   The man forced himself to remain calm.  Soon he would allow this   
   Work to see the light, and he had already selected his next boy-   
   canvas.  He just had to remember:   
      
   He was one step closer.*   
      
      
      
   There was a message from Alex Paring on Scully's answering machine   
   the next day, Saturday morning, telling her that they didn't need   
   her at the moment, if she wanted the day off.  She knew that he was   
   trying to get into her good books.  She hadn't been as kind to him   
   as she could have.   
      
   Rob used the opportunity to take her to his parents' in Park City.   
   The day was overcast and heavy, matching the shadows under Scully's   
   eyes as they sped along the I-80, the brownish green hills rising on   
   either side of the car.  Soon enough the road branched out into   
   flatter land, the hills grey in the distance.  They were the only   
   ones on the road.   
      
   Scully gazed out the window, watching the sky for hawks like she   
   always did on car trips.  It had been a marvel for her to see them   
   so often after moving to Utah, to see them sailing on the thermals   
   rising off the hot scrubland.  It felt to her like they meant   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)