The X-Files: Spoiled Water

(Spoilers: "Redux II")

By Amanda Smith

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CHAPTER 1

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Todd and his wife, Laura, sat at the front of their covered wagon, tugging lightly on the reins. Laura insisted to her exhausted husband that it was necessary they stop for the night. The mules were tired, they all were thirsty, and the kids were hungry. Todd nodded in agreement. He hopped down and turned to help his wife to the ground. The 1846 summer sun was beating down on them relentlessly, as if punishing them for trying to cross the unknown alone. "Mommy, I'm thirsty," whined an eight-year-old Caleb.

"I know, baby. Daddy's trying to find us something to drink," she assured him, combing her fingers through his messy hair. She faced her two daughters, Lynn, eleven, and Mary, fourteen. "Would you girls mind preparing dinner, please?" she asked in a hopeful tone.

"Of course not, Mommy," they replied, almost in unison.

It is nice having three children, Laura thought, but it'll be even nicer when Caleb is old enough to help out, as well. She was just about to lie down in the wagon for a brief nap, when she spotted her husband returning from his search. "Did you find any?" she called out to him.

He wavered a little from side to side, but steadied himself with a shake of his hand. "Uh, yeah." He waited until he was close enough to speak normally before continuing. "Yeah. There's a small stream about half a mile southeast from here…maybe closer if we just go south."

"Well, Lynn and Mary have started dinner, so I'll go get the water."

"Don't be silly, Mother," interjected Caleb, holding a large pail, "I'll get it."

Laura smiled and put her hand on her chest. "Oh, thank you, sweetie, but let Mommy get it. You need to stay here in case Daddy needs your help." Caleb reluctantly handed her the pail, and she was on her way. Todd was right. The stream was a lot closer straight south. When she approached the running water, she noticed the lack of life nearby. There was no grass…no fish…not even any bugs. However, she and her family were very thirsty, and she needed to take water back to the mules to prevent dehydration or other illnesses. Those mules were extremely vital to this trip, and she must keep them healthy. Laura filled the pail despite the odd observation she had made, and took a closer look. Satisfied with it being liquid at all, she headed back.

The water was divided among the original pail and three others. One was for cooking, one for drinking, and one for each mule. Laura sipped her water, not knowing she would soon be screaming in agonizing pain. Todd sipped his water, not knowing it would dehydrate his organs in a matter of seconds. The kids sipped their waters, not knowing they were approaching the end of their desert journey. The family enjoyed their meal, unaware it would be their last.

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(present day)

The sun rose behind the mountainous horizon, bringing a new day with it. An eleven-year-old boy ran across the sand with a shovel, followed by another boy, nine, and a girl, twelve. "Alex, check this out!" screamed Bobby from the front. "I'm tellin' you guys! This is awesome!" They followed him breathlessly, Sandra at the end of the line in a knee-length skirt. They were only friends, but they felt like family because they had grown up as neighbors. Bobby ran to the base of a nearby cliff, the result of a plate tectonic collision decades before. He slammed the shovel into a soft, dark, bruise-like spot in the wall of earth, and water began to trickle down the side. "I told you this was cool."

The other two kids looked at him unimpressed. "This is what you brought us out here to see?" asked a disappointed Sandra. "Water?"

Alex was just about to leave when he got an idea. In a way that a nine-year-old boy would challenge a brother to eat a bug, he exclaimed, "I dare you to taste it!"

"Don't do that!" Sandra reprimanded. "You have no idea what's in that water."

Despite her good point, Bobby was always up for a good dare. He pressed his hand against the rock in the shape of a cup, trying to get as much water as he could. Once he was satisfied with the amount, he slurped it up happily. "Ha!" he shouted. "I did it." Alex cheered, and Sandra rolled her eyes.

Suddenly, Bobby grabbed his throat, and fear took over his delighted expression. He didn't look, nor did he feel, very powerful anymore…he felt terrified.

"What's wrong?" Sandra asked, very seriously, as tears began to flood her friend's eyes. "Bobby?" But he couldn't speak. Sandra turned to Alex. "Go get help!" she demanded and then returned her attention to Bobby. There was nothing she could do. She watched his knees buckle, and he fell. He was dead before he hit the ground.

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CHAPTER 2

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FBI Headquarters was a busy building. Agents rushed in and out of elevators, through hallways, and in and out of offices. No one had the neither the time nor the patience to stop and chat or share a kind glance. The day had barely begun, and already, there was a bitter mood in the atmosphere, especially when Special Agent Dana Scully exited the elevator. That partially had to do with the fact that she and her partner hadn't had sleep since before they finished their last case and partially because it was Scully. In the entire building, she had two friends…her partner and her boss. Scully wasn't very social when it came to anyone else, and she didn't care to be. She was there to do her job, and she did it well. As she walked down the hallway, the heavy clip clop of her black, high heels attracted all sorts of attention that she automatically ignored. Scully was in too big of a hurry to be concerned by awkward stares. Hanging over the tops of her shoes was a pair of black slacks, accompanied by a matching jacket and a simple white dress shirt. If one looked closely, he would notice a gold necklace barely hiding beneath the collar of her shirt; however, he would not expect it to hold a cross. Scully was a skeptic. She could not fathom the idea that some things could not be explained by science. As a scientist, a chemist, and a doctor, she relied on science to prove and explain even the most phenomenal events she and her partner encountered. She turned the corner and, unexpectedly, had to dodge a security guard. Her chin-length, red hair bounced slightly with her every stride. Dana Scully had a powerful aura, despite her petite figure. Her true height was five-foot-three, but her high-heels (that no one could run in like she could) added at least another three inches. She was thin and fit. Usually she wore a black knee-length skirt, but today she just didn't feel like it. Finally, she came to a halt in front of an open door, taking a deep breath before entering. The secretary nodded toward the door to her left. Entering cautiously, Scully sighed in relief to see that her partner was already there. She sat down next to him and looked at the man in front of them. The name plate on his desk read Assistant Director Walter Skinner. This was their boss.

"Agents," he greeted, in place of a hello. "I'll try to make this short. A young boy died this morning, in Boulder, Colorado of a mysterious cause…something about poisonous water." He went on to explain the particulars and handed Scully the file. Then, he briefly shared some suggestions.

"Can't the local police take care of this, sir?" asked Agent Scully.

"Well, that's what I think should have happened," he answered with a shrug, "but they prefer you guys take a look." Skinner raised his eyebrows, as if to say whatever, and continued. "I already booked your flights and hotel rooms. You leave this afternoon." He handed them each their own packet of flight and motel information.

Scully eyed her partner. It wasn't unusual for him to be this quiet, but she was surprised that he hadn't yet acknowledged her presence. "Mulder?" she said, interrupting his mental nap.

Special Agent Fox Mulder was one of a kind. He had first gotten involved in the X-Files because he wanted to find his sister, whom he believed had been abducted by aliens. As his work became more of a crusade to prove the existence of a government conspiracy, their section chief assigned Scully to be his partner and debunk his work. Unofficially, her job was to spy on him and shut down the X-Files, but it had never been her intent. Instead, Scully became Mulder's strongest advocate and always looked out for his best interest. She joined him in his attempt to uncover the truth about his sister and the government. Within only a few months, they were best friends, and she was the only person he would trust. Scully placed her hand on Mulder's, bringing him out of his trance. "What?" he blurted, somewhat startled. She smiled at him, and he half-grinned back. "I heard every word, I swear." She nodded and rose from her seat. After Skinner excused them, Mulder followed his partner out of the office, stretching out his arms. Then, he extended a hand to regain his balance. Scully faced him to say something but caught him in a yawn, consequently causing her to yawn in reply. "Well," he began, trying to hold in another yawn, "at least we'll be able to sleep on the plane."

"Tell me about it." Scully put her arm around her partner's waist and walked him to down the hall, back to the elevator. He was much taller than Dana, towering about a foot over her…perfect for times like this when he could put his arm behind her neck and rest it on her shoulder. Scully noticed they were getting the same cold stares she had gotten before by different people. She was used to it by now, but couldn't help chuckling at how silly she and her partner must look. They were dressed practically alike. He wore black, shiny shoes, silky, black slacks, and a heavy, black, wool jacket over a white shirt with a black tie. Scully recalled one case they were working on in Dallas when a couple of boys thought she and Mulder were door-to-door salesmen. I don't blame them, she thought to herself. They reached the elevator and rode it down to the basement, where their office was. "So, did Skinner say anything else about the case before I got there?" she asked.

Mulder shook his head as he leafed through the packets Skinner had given them, his short, brown, feathery hair barely shifting from its assigned position. Then he looked up at her and arched his eyebrows. "Six years together, Scully. You'd think that we'd be reading each other's minds by now." His face felt too heavy to give her a full grin, so he gave her another partial, which she returned sarcastically.

"Awe, and not get to hear your charming voice everyday?" she teased. They each grabbed an overcoat and headed back toward the door. "I guess we better get packed." She paused. "So, am I meeting you at your apartment or are you picking me up from mine?"

"Yours is closer to the airport; so I'll pick you up at your apartment."

"Okay, then. See you in a couple hours."

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CHAPTER 3

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Mulder was like clockwork…when he wanted to be. But this was not one of those times. Scully, however, couldn't be more relieved that he was running late because she wasn't anywhere close to being ready. One minute she was talking to her mom on the phone, and the next, she was waking up from a needed, but inconvenient catnap. All she knew was that she must have finished her conversation before lying down because the phone had been returned to its cradle on her nightstand. She was just packing her carry-on when she heard a knock at the door. "It's open," she yelled from her bedroom. Her partner entered and gestured to the two small suitcases in the front room. She nodded and zipped up the bag in front of her as he left with the other two. Scully locked up quickly, followed Mulder to the taxi he had waiting, and hopped in the backseat. She didn't especially enjoy cab rides, but they were a convenient source of transportation at times like this. Keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times, she thought to herself, a little disappointed that she couldn't share this joke with her partner who was sitting in the passenger seat. Within only an hour, they were through security and in the middle of chaos. "What gate are we?" asked a bewildered Scully, trying to be heard over the crowd.

"Seven! Gate seven!" Mulder pointed to his left, her right, and then pressed his hand on her back, guiding her through the horde. "Right on time," he sighed as they walked straight onto the plane. He looked back to see if they were the last ones, but they were being followed by a handful of people who looked like they had never flown before in their lives. The two agents found their seats effortlessly. They had done this more times than they could count. Mulder chuckled. "Doesn't matter how often you fly, the chaos never gets…well, less chaotic."

"That's for sure," Scully agreed. While Mulder thumbed through a magazine he had found in the pocket of the seat in front of him, Scully reviewed the file Skinner had given them. Reading and rereading all the information on the young boy, Scully became a little more intrigued by the case. "You know," she began, "it seemed strange to me before that they called in the big guns, but read this part, right here." Mulder silently read the paragraph above her fingertip and looked at her indifferently. "Mulder, the boy took a sip of the water, grabbed his throat, and within seconds, he was dead. That doesn't seem odd to you?" Mulder was about to say something, but Scully interrupted. "I already thought about that," she said, completely unaware that he hadn't even said anything yet. "But even if it was any naturally-occurring poison, I don't think he would have reacted that way." Mulder opened his mouth in another attempt to make a new point, but she beat him again. "Arsenic, cyanide, and strychnine are definite possibilities," she confirmed, "but we will still need to run tests to be sure we aren't dealing with chemical dumping."

Mulder shook his head and smiled. "Scully, I was wrong." She arched her eyebrows in quiet curiosity. "I guess you can read my mind, after all." She laughed and replaced the file in her bag.

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They got off the plane drearily. Apparently neither of them was able to get any sleep during the flight. Scully stepped to the side of the crowd and stopped to yawn and wipe sleep from the corners of her eyes. "How long have we been up, Mulder?" she inquired, trying not to sound too disgusted.

He looked at his watch for a long moment. "Not counting the time difference, of course…and your little catnap earlier…" he threw her a glance that made her smirk. Then he paused as if he was still trying to interpret his watch, "…about twenty-seven hours."

Scully shook her head in a that's-ridiculous fashion. "Okay. Motel, here we come."

"Thank you, God." Mulder took her arm as they walked out of the airport and into the rental car place. "Nice of Skinner to set this up for us, huh?" Mulder mused with a hint of sarcasm. Scully didn't respond. She just retrieved the information the assistant director had given them, and soon they had a car.

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CHAPTER 4

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In her motel room, Scully tossed and turned in her sleep. They are walking through what appears to be an abandoned warehouse. The image is cloudy and hard to follow. Scully looks down at her hands and sees a gun, ready to be fired. What could they possibly be looking for? She looks at her partner and notices his gun, too, is out and ready. Suddenly, she hears a sharp, hair-raising cry and sees her partner fall to the ground. It seems to happen quickly and in slow-motion at the same time, building even more onto the confusion she already harbored. Responsively, Scully lunges to her partner's side, searching for his mysterious wound. There it is. "Oh, my God," she gasps, letting her head tilt in comprehension. Scully feels tears sting her eyes as she removes a knife from Mulder's stomach with a shaky hand, and then covers his bleeding lesion with the other. She looks around wildly, only to see they are completely alone. She returns her gaze to her best friend. There isn't much time left for him, and there's nothing she can do. The better part of her life spent in medical training, and there was nothing she could do to save him. The painful tears begin to flood her eyes and pour out as if a dam had just collapsed. Never in her life has she ever felt so helpless. "This isn't fair," she sobs, pressing her head against her partner's bleeding body. Mulder gasps for air, on the verge of fearful and sorrowful tears himself. Dana reaches her body up his and lies as close to her friend as she can. Caressing his face with a soft, feminine hand, she comforts Mulder, allowing him to relax for his final moments. She wants to kiss him. She has wanted to kiss him for a very long time, but it wasn't right. Watching Mulder's eyes lull shut as he takes his last breath, she parts her lips against his, unsure if he ever got to feel it.

Mulder awoke abruptly to the sound of his phone ringing. "Hello?" he answered in a scratchy voice. He could barely hear sniffling on the other end of the line, but he knew who it was. "Scully?"

She was obviously trying to hide the uneasiness in her voices as she began to speak. "I was just checking to see if you were okay," she said.

"What are you talking about?" Mulder sounded worried himself. "Are you okay?" He heard her mumble what he assumed was an apology for waking him, and embarrassed, she hung up the phone. I wonder what that was all about, he wondered silently, and then fell back asleep.

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CHAPTER 5

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The next morning, Mulder knocked on Scully's motel room door. "Are you feeling better?" he asked when she opens the door. She moved to the side, letting him in, before responding to his question.

"Yes. Sorry about waking you. I just had a bad dream…that's all." Scully stared at a spot on the ground, diverting her eyes from his face. Though Mulder was curious about the dream, he knew she didn't want to discuss it any further, and he allowed the subject to drop as they proceeded to walk to a restaurant down the street. Even more than wondering about her dream, Mulder was wondering about the restaurant's breakfast menu. It had been hours since they had eaten anything besides the plane's peanuts.

"I have marked our map to make it easier for you to navigate," Mulder said through a full mouth. He handed her the paper between inhales of pancakes.

"Thank you." Scully's thanks were sincere, but her eyes and voice were distant, not quite directed at him. He leaned down and to the side, blocking her view to get her attention. "Thank you," she repeated, popping back into reality. She elevated her fork unsteadily and ate a bite of scrambled eggs. When she took the bite, a piece of egg stuck to the corner of her mouth, and Mulder unconsciously reached up to wipe it off. She flinched and held in her breath as his thumb touched her skin. Normally, Mulder's action would have gone unnoticed, but this time, Dana felt her heart jump, and she wished his hand would stay right where it was…against her skin…in the restaurant…out of harm's way.

Mulder held her face in his hand for a few seconds and then took her hand, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. "What is it?" he asked, genuinely concerned. His partner waved his question away, but he persisted. "You can tell me anything. You know that."

"It's just that…" She paused, considering whether or not to tell him about the dream. Finally, she continued with a made up mind. "…this case gives me the creeps." When he gave her an elaborate, skeptical expression, she fired back her own famous don't-push-me look. He knew better, and listened.

Mulder and Scully pulled up to a ranch-style house in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. They stepped out of the rental car and approached the door. The door opened before Mulder could knock. "You're here!" a woman almost cried.

Mulder and Scully exchanged glances and turned back to the woman, nodding. "Yes, ma'am."

"I was hoping you'd find the place just fine." The woman paused, allowing the agents in the house. Then, she grabbed for each of their hands, one right after the other. "I am Bonnie. Bonnie Jacobson. Bobby's mother." She seemed to trail off when she said her son's name.

"Mrs. Jacobson," Scully began, "we are very sorry about your son."

"That's sweet. Thank you."

Scully continued. "But if you don't mind me asking, is there a Mr. Jacobson?"

"There was," Bonnie confirmed. "Not anymore, however." She left the front room for a few seconds, returning with three mugs. "Coffee?" Again, the agents exchanged glances and nodded. "He left when I got pregnant with Bobby." Bonnie seemed to be in a state of reminiscence. "We were young, you know? Nineteen. He wasn't ready to be a father, so he took off, and I moved in with my parents. Here, actually. They died about four years ago." Suddenly, she blinked back into the present time, finishing her story with, "I'm glad they aren't here to go through this." Then, she began to cry. Mulder looked at his coffee cup awkwardly, trying to avoid looking at the tearful woman. Scully, however, stepped up to give Bonnie her shoulder on which she cried even harder. Rubbing Mrs. Jacobson's back gently, Scully glanced at her partner, surprised by his reaction to the woman's sorrow. She knew her partner better than anyone, and this was out of character for him. Mulder was an extremely sensitive man. That's one of his qualities she admired and loved the most. But, instead, he seemed uncomfortable. She eyed him for a second and, then, returned her attention to Mrs. Jacobson, who was in the process of pulling herself together. "I'm sorry," she whimpered through a stuffed nose and the last of her tears. "I thought for sure I would have run out of those by now." Scully smiled sympathetically, knowing Bonnie was referring to the tears.

"It's completely understandable," Scully assured her and gave her an almost motherly shoulder rub. Bonnie sat on the couch, and Scully sat next to her, Mulder taking the chair across the coffee table from them. "Now, Mrs. Jacobson," she continued, "please share with us only what you feel comfortable telling us, and feel free to take your time. We are only here to help."

"Thank you for your understanding and concern," Bonnie smiled, "but I'm afraid I don't really know what to say. I already told the police everything I know, which isn't very much."

Scully pulled out the file and paraphrased its contents, excluding the autopsy report. No mother should have to hear about that. Then, Scully asked, "Is this everything you told them?"

"I'm afraid so." Bonnie looked disappointed that she couldn't give them more information. She felt so helpless. "I can make a couple phone calls, though, and have Alex and Sandra come."

Scully could sense the desire to be of some help in Bonnie's voice and thanked her. "That would be very helpful," she said, hoping the emphasis on "very" would ease some of the woman's regret.

She smiled. "Okay, then. I'll be right back."

"Thank you," Scully smiled back. When Bonnie had left the room, Scully faced her partner. "Are you okay?" she asked, noticing the irony in her asking him that after the way she had been acting.

Mulder nodded without expression. "It must be so hard for her, Scully," he whispered.

Scully slanted her eyebrows sadly. "Well, of course it is, Mulder. But we've had cases that dealt with children before." There was no response, and Scully wasn't sure if she expected one. But before she could say anything else, Bonnie reentered the room.

"They'll be here shortly."

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Mulder and Scully left the Jacobson house two and a half hours later, not having learned anything new. They had just finished playing psychologist with Alex, Sandra, and all three mothers, and they were feeling terribly drained. Neither wanted to say what their trip to the house really was. A waste of time. So, instead, they returned to their motel in silence.