Title: Triangle Too: The Case That Never Happened
Author: Kirsten
E-mail address: Kerz1013@aol.com
Archive: Anywhere, just let me know where.
Spoilers: Triangle
Classification: MSR
Summary: Mulder and Scully find strength in each other,
in a life-threatening situation.
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. I just borrowed them
for a little while and am now returning them with love and gratitude to
Chris Carter, 1013 Productions.
Dedication: Special thanX to Kathers, my fellow obsessor.
Authors Note: FEEDBACK! PLEASE! Just a word or two will do!
Triangle Too:
The Case That Never Happened
Dulles International Airport
Monday, November 2, 1999
6:57am
"I can't believe Skinner is sending us on this wild goose chase Mulder. I
think we proved the first time around that this whole Devil's Triangle thing
was a figment of your overactive imagination," Scully teased, sitting down
next to her partner in the terminal.
"Scully-there are countless records of
people who have experienced the type of phenomena I went through. What
happened to me was very real. I just can't understand, with all you've seen,
why you don't even try to open your mind to extreme possibilities." He
stated in frustration.
"I was just giving you a hard time Mulder. I realize
you experienced something out there. Now that the oceanliner has been
spotted again, we'll have a chance to do a real investigation-together this
time." Scully replied. "Since you bring it up though, perhaps you can help
me understand why you decided not to include me the last time? We're
partners Mulder. I thought you trusted me."
"I do trust you, more than
anyone-you know that Scully. I just didn't think you'd-" He went silent.
"What Mulder? Believe you? Have I ever refused to go on any investigation
with you, however outrageous it seemed?" She sounded hurt.
"No, you've
always been there. I guess I just didn't want to risk your job the way I was
risking mine."
"You took that decision away from me and in the process you
took a big risk going it alone. That's why the FBI assigns partnerships
Mulder, we're supposed to be there for each other."
"Scully, you were there.
Even though I left you out of the investigation, you were there with me on
board that ship."
"Mulder-" she said, that "come on" look in her eyes.
"I
swear! She looked like you, sounded like you, smelled like you and she even
had your attitude." He added the last part with a grin, as he rubbed his jaw
where her look-a-like had punched him. "You were there." He finished.
"Mulder-" She looked at him. "I-" She couldn't find the words to tell
Mulder that as she ran the halls of the ghost ship with the Gunmen, she felt
his presence. She just knew he was there. Somehow, she could feel his
essence and even smell his cologne. Remembering sent shivers up her spine.
Scully let all this go unspoken as they boarded their plane to Jamaica.
Forty five minutes later, seated in row thirteen, seats A and B, Mulder slept
like a baby while Scully studied the casefile for their assignment.
Suddenly, the 737 must have hit an airpocket. Scully felt as if the plane
dropped miles rather than the few feet her rational mind reminded her was
reality. She looked over at Mulder as the turbulence continued. He slept
peacefully. Oh! That's it, she thought clutching the armrest, white knuckled.
No ditching me this time partner, Scully thought as she elbowed him.
"Ow?"
He stated groggily. "What was that for?"
"Sorry Mulder-turbulence, she said
with a smirk. Just then, the plane pitched again and Mulder watched the
color drain from Scully's face. She had always had a fear of flying. This
was one of the little details Mulder had uncovered being partnered with her,
though she never said a word. Scully had a strength Mulder had seen in only
a few people in his lifetime and he admired her for it. He decided the
turbulence must have gotten pretty bad for her to wake him like she had.
"You okay?" He tried to ask nonchalantly.
"I'm fine, I just wanted you to
get your money's worth on this ride."
"Thanks pard-ner." He said softly
elbowing her back. Several rows back, a dark complected man shifted his eyes
nervously, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Nobody Move!" The hijacker yelled in a quivering voice. He waved a strange
looking gun from one person to another, finally choosing a young girl sitting
on the aisle and pulling her to her feet. Holding her to himself, he pushed
her down the aisle toward first class as he yelled, "I will talk to the pilot
or this girl will be the first of many to die." A flight attendant tried to
reason with him, only succeeding in making him angrier. He pointed the gun
at the terrified girl's temple. "The pilot! NOW!"
"Okay! Okay! The
attendant shouted as she ushered the pair up the aisle to the flight cabin.
"Scully-" Mulder whispered patting the bulge under his jacket where his
shoulder holster carefully sheathed his sidearm.
"Mulder-there's protocol in
situations like this-we're not trained to deal-" She was cut short by the
PA.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," the pilot said calmly. "I want you all to remain
calm and cooperative. We are being temporarily detoured. Please, stay in
your seats and remain silent as this situation unfolds." The PA clicked off
as the door to the flight cabin flew open.
"No tricks Captain! I know how
long it should take to reach Iraq. All of you do what I say and you will
live. You have my word."
"Somehow, I don't think I trust his word Scully,"
Mulder whispered sarcastically.
Holding the frightened girl, and shoving his way back down the tight aisle,
the hijacker pushed her into an empty seat in the first row of coach. He
stood there in the curtained doorway, nervously looking from one section to
another. Finally, Mulder saw the opportunity he had been waiting for. The
hijacker tried to lower the crew jump-seat, his attention somewhat diverted.
As Mulder slowly stood, Scully grabbed his arm, her eyes filled with concern.
Although she felt the same responsibility to do something, she couldn't help
but question his judgement. Mulder pulled away, trying to assure Scully with
that look she knew all to well. She knew it was useless to try and stop him.
As Mulder stepped slowly forward, reaching under his jacket for his sidearm,
the hijacker spun around as if sensing his thoughts. Mulder pulled his
weapon only seconds too late. He heard the pop and felt the sting on his
forearm, inches from where Scully had just had her hand. The bullet ripped
through Mulder's arm and found it's way unto the thigh of a man sitting four
rows back. In less than a heartbeat, Scully was up and at Mulder's side.
"Oh
God! Sit down Mulder. Where are you hit?" She said as she helped him out of
his jacket.
"Get away from him!" The man yelled.
"I'm a doctor!" Scully
protested, looking back at Mulder.
"He will not be needing your help." The
hijacker stated as he grabbed Scully by the hair, pulling her to her feet.
"Now, sit down!"
"Please, just let me look-" Scully begged.
The angry
man's eyes widened in his fury as he hauled back and slapped her, shoving her
into her seat.
"Don't touch her!" Mulder yelled, his eyes a blur of anger
and pain.
"QUIET!" The hijacker yelled again as he kicked Mulder in the
side. "Her life is now in danger for your small efforts . . ." He paused.
"Your efforts? To do what?" He shook his head and smiled. "Stop Me? Nothing
will stop me from getting to my destination-what is it you called him?
Mul-der?" He kicked Mulder again and Scully out of instinct lunged out of
her seat. The hijacker caught her by the arm, twisting as he pulled her
back.
"No more!" He shouted slapping Scully again. "Sit down and don't
move! Next time I use my fist! Understood?" Scully shook her head. He
turned around quickly and pulled Mulder to his feet, shoving him at gunpoint
toward the first class section. Scully craned her neck as the curtain fell
to block her view. From her short examination, she could tell that Mulder
hadn't been wounded badly. She just couldn't let herself think of what he
was going through now.
Time seemed to stand still in the silence, broken only by the whimpers and
soft crying of the traumatized passengers. Scully noticed most were dressed
for vacation, shorts and T-shirts, most brightly colored symbolizing their
paradise destinations. Wondering where and how this would all end, Scully
turned toward an anguished sob coming from behind her. An old woman doted on
a man sitting at her side. He, also elderly, was pale and his head lolled to
the side. Scully made contact with the woman's pleading eyes.
Making her
decision, looking back once more at the first class curtain, Scully slipped
out of her seat. She hoped Mulder could keep the hijacker busy while she
once again disobeyed orders.
To the frantic woman's relief, Scully moved quickly down the aisle. The man
at her side, she assumed to be the lady's husband, looked even paler at this
short distance. Scully immediately saw the evidence that this gentleman had
not faired as lucky as Mulder. Clearly, the pooling blood at his feet meant
the bullet hit the main artery. She placed her fingers at the pale man's
neck, searching for a pulse. Nothing-- Scully placed her hand over the old
woman's and looked down as she sadly told the woman her husband was dead.
"I'm so sorry-" she whispered, tears in her eyes. As she looked up at the
woman, she saw a terror on her face that could mean only one thing. The
hijacker marched down the aisle and Scully could tell he was going to
explode.
"I warned you Ms. Doctor, to stay in your seat," He shouted as he
backhanded Scully with full force across the jaw, knocking her to the floor.
"You really should have listened to me." He kicked her before grabbing the
collar of her jacket and pulled her to her feet.
"Please! Don't hurt her!"
The old woman pleaded. "She was only trying to help my husband."
"Shut your
mouth!" As the hijacker spun around yelling, Scully quickly reached around
her waist for her weapon. It was gone. The snap to secure it hung loosely
and her hand met only the empty holster. "This is my plane! Under my rules!"
He demanded. "Don't test me any further or there will be more blood spilled.
I'm not afraid to die! You see, I have nothing to lose. If we have anymore
heroics I'll blow this plane out of the sky," he said as he pulled out a
small remote control devise from his pocket. He turned, his full attention
once again on Scully. Her ears still rang from the kick to the side of her
head as she stumbled up the aisle, shoved from behind. She searched the
seats she passed for Mulder.
Finally, in the front row of first class she
saw him. He was tied there with makeshift ropes, ranging from luggage straps
to torn strips from clothing and pillowcases. As Mulder's face came into
view, Scully winced, her eyes tearing from what she saw. He had been beaten
severely. His face was cut and bleeding and his left eye was swollen shut.
Drying blood trailed from his split lip and dripped scarlet on the white of
his shirt. His good eye opened upon feeling his partner's presence and the
corners of his mouth tilted up in a painful attempt at a smile.
"What the
Bureau puts us through these days to fly first class . . . " He started to
whisper, cut off by a swift punch that started his lip bleeding again.
Scully was pushed into the seat next to Mulder and tied in a similar fashion.
"Now, here is how we will play this out," the hijacker hissed. "If one of
you talks or makes any move, the other will receive the punishment. Am I
understood?" Both Mulder and Scully shook their heads. "Good-then we will
have a nice flight. You--will love my country," he smiled, caressing
Scully's auburn hair. She pulled her head away in disgust. He laughed softly
as he turned and left them.
Escape on her mind, more than ever now, Scully
racked her mind to recall where she'd lost her weapon. If she could only
figure which blow dislodged it from its holster, she would know where to
look. Now she just needed to figure out how to free herself without getting
Mulder killed in the process. Scully looked toward Mulder as he moaned
softly. She noted that his lip had stopped bleeding again.
Though his eyes
were closed, he felt her concerned stare. Moving his long fingers along the
armrest between them, he brushed hers gently. She in turn moved her hand
closer, entwining their fingers as their fates had been for years.
The moment was broken by shouts coming from coach. "You killed my husband!"
Scully recognized the voice of the old woman. "You said you had nothing to
live for, well, now I don't either. You took my reason to live!"
Scully
twisted in the seat, trying to look over the back of the high, first class
seat. She instinctively ducked when a gunshot rang out in the quiet.
Another shot fired mere moments later. Scully could tell from the sound that
it was the hijacker's distinctive, plastic gun that fired last.
Screams from
terrified passengers combined with the sound of sucking wind as the cabin
quickly began to depressurize. Mulder looked over at Scully through a
whirlwind of flying debris. She had a look of panic on her face that came
from pure terror. With her fear of flying, she now was living out her worst
nightmare.
"Hey!" He squeezed her hand as he shouted over the noise.
Scully
turned her head, not quite believing her eyes. He was smiling at her. Leave
it to Mulder to be smiling in the face of certain death. He yelled again.
"With all the people I've pissed off over the years-never thought I'd go like
this!"
Though Scully's eyes were still wide with fear, Mulder noticed the
slightest smile at the truth in his statement. She let go of his hand as he
twisted his violently, stretching the cloth bonds until they broke. Seconds
later, Scully's hand was free as well. As she worked frantically to free her
other wrist, she felt Mulder's hand on her cheek wiping away a tear she
didn't know she had shed. She suddenly realized her efforts to free herself
were pointless and found Mulder's hand with her own. Scully squeezed tightly
as if his hand was the only thread of sanity left in the chaos around them.
She was appalled when she looked and found him still smiling. "My God
Mulder! We're gonna die!" She screamed through her sobs.
"Scully! Look at
me!" Mulder yelled, trying to break through her panic. "Dammit Scully! Look
at me!" Her eyes finally came aware. "Scully . . . I" He shook his head.
"I . . . I have to tell you . . . I have
to . . . Shit!" He cursed the words. The words that stuck in his throat, the
words that she needed to hear, the words that he needed to say.
Scully
watched him struggle and smiled softly through her tears. He didn't have to
say the words, he never did.
"I know Mulder . . . me too" Tears filled his
eyes as he held her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly. "I love you."
The plane jolted suddenly as the wheels screeched on the runway. Scully's
head lifted from it's resting place, the back of her coach seat. She found
herself holding Mulder's hand. He was sleeping. Thank god, she thought,
feeling her face flush as she removed her hand from his. Scully looked at
the other passengers and realized everyone seemed to be waking from an
unusual sleep. She turned to Mulder and noticed soft shadows on his face
where the bruises and welts were in her dream.
"SCULLY!" He shouted as his
eyes flew open.
"I'm right here Mulder, it's okay." "What the hell?" He
was obviously as confused as she was.
"Mulder look." He turned to see the
other passengers still sleeping or waking in complete silence. Scully's hand
found her jaw, which was mysteriously sore. She pulled a compact from her
bag and saw the shadow running from her cheek to her jaw.
"Ladies and
Gentlemen, welcome to Jamaica and thank you for flying with us. Please wait
until the seatbelt signs are off to claim any carry-ons. Have a wonderful
stay.
From behind her, Scully heard a familiar cry-the old woman. She
turned to see her and her husband next to her.
"Excuse me, but you wouldn't
be a . . . doctor . . . Would you?" A flight attendant asked Scully, a
strange look on her face.
"Yes, I'm a doctor, if I can help . . ." She
replied. With the strongest sense of dejavoux, Scully unbuckled her lap belt
and made her way back to the couple. The man sitting next to the woman was
very pale and his head lolled to the side.
"Please!" The old woman begged.
Scully moved closer looking at the floor near the man's feet-nothing.
"He's
. . . he's had a history of heart problems . . . the doctor told him he
shouldn't fly . . ." The woman sobbed.
Scully placed her fingers, looking
for a pulse. He was cold to the touch. She lowered her eyes and turned to
the woman.
"I'm sorry, he's gone . . ." Scully whispered. She stood, turning
toward the flight attendant. Scully rubbed at the bridge of her nose
informing the flight attendant that she and Mulder were with the FBI and that
the body was evidence. She continued, saying Mulder would contact the Bureau
and the passengers would need to be debriefed. As Scully turned to walk back
to Mulder, the flight attendant grabbed her arm.
"I just wanted to say thank
you, from all of us, for helping the way you did. I . . . don't really
understand what happened, but I don't think we would have made it if you
hadn't done all you did." Scully let her mouth fall open in shock.
"You're
. . . you're welcome."
When Scully returned to her seat, Mulder, who had been observing from a
distance, stated flatly, "He's dead . . . isn't he?"
"Yes," She answered,
recognizing a certain look in Mulder's eyes. She then added, "the strange
thing is that he's been dead long enough for his body to become cool. Rigor
has even started to set in Mulder. That means he's been gone for at least
three hours?"
"Here's the big question then Scully. How come no one noticed
until now?" Mulder raised his hand to his temple to rub away the headache
that was starting.
"Mulder! Your arm!" Scully gasped, holding his arm as
she saw the fresh blood soaking through his white shirt. He paled slightly
as he rolled up his sleeve to reveal a tiny puncture wound.
"What the hell
happened here Mulder?" Scully asked. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged.
"Maybe it's the "triangle" again? I hope it's done with me this time." She
took his hand in hers.
"Us, Mulder. This time, it was us . . ."
"Yeah
Scully. It's us." His hazel eyes searched hers. "It always will be, from
now on. I promise." She gave him one of her most beautiful smiles as they
turned and filed off the plane. Her smile continued as she felt his hand in
it's place at the small of her back.
The End~
CASE FILE REPORT
Special Agent Dana Scully-
Enroute, on assignment X-148121 to Jamaica, Special Agent Mulder and myself
counted ourselves among the victims of a mid-air hijacking. The hijacker, of
Arab descent, demanded the flight be rerouted to Iraq. He "convinced" the
pilot of his intentions using a high-tech, non-metallic weapon. He also had,
what appeared to be a remote control. He explained to the Captain, the
frequency of this devise would set off explosives, located in the luggage
compartment in the belly of the plane.
Agent Mulder saw an opportunity in
the confusion at one point and attempted to apprehend the hijacker. In so
doing, Agent Mulder was shot and as the bullet continued behind him, one Mr.
Robert Matheson was killed. Offering my assistance medically, the hijacker
became agitated and used this excuse to become violent with me physically and
also with Agent Mulder as he reacted to my abuse. We were at this point
searched and after the hijacker found us to be Agents with the Bureau; we
were secured in the first class section. Unbenounced to Agent Mulder and
myself, my weapon was lost during one of my attempts to help those hurt.
The deceased wife found my weapon and fired, killing the hijacker but not
before he could get a round off. His bullet missed his target, Mrs.
Matheson, and hit a window, which resulted in rapid decompression of the
plane. The 737 plummeted and as the blood rushed to my head, I blacked out.
The next thing I recall is waking in my coach seat, watching those around me
waking as well. The tires of the plane screeched on the runway below us and
as the engines reversed, we roared to a stop. Agent Mulder woke and from his
reaction, I realized what I had experienced or rather, we had experienced,
had not been a dream. As the passengers were still waking and started to
talk quietly amongst themselves, I listened as they told the story that I
myself had experienced. Somehow, we had all been deviated from our timeline,
together. Physically, our minor injuries had all but disappeared with the
exception of some vague shadows on Agent Mulder's face and my own. Agent
Mulder had only a small puncture wound in his left arm, where the gaping
gunshot wound had been.
Mr. Matheson, who died from a gunshot wound in the
alternate reality, was found dead from apparent cardiac arrest upon landing.
My examination of the body at the site, taking into account its pallor and
coolness, lead me to mark the time of death close to three hours before we
landed, which coincides with the shooting in the alternate reality.
Completion of the autopsy on Mr. Matheson revealed that my estimated time of
death had been correct. I also was able to rule out cardiac arrest as the
cause of death, finding the actual cause to be loss of blood or
exanguination. In the final entry of my autopsy report I listed the finding
of a small puncture wound in the right thigh and also the fact that not a
drop of blood was found at the scene.
Agent Mulder's theory as to our experience insists that this incident
occurred as part of the ongoing Devil's triangle phenomena and that we were
drawn into some sort of tear in time or dimension.
My theory behind this event stems from a psychological phenomena called
Folie A Deux, which is defined as a madness shared by two. As this incident
was experienced by a planeload of people, my theory is left unfounded
scientifically. However, I feel there must be a parallel between what
happened to us and the theory behind the afore mentioned phenomena.
Agent Mulder and myself are found once again without any physical evidence.
Nothing remains but our shared memories of a tragic event that never
occurred.
This case remains unsolved--