The X-Files: The Truth Revealed

Chapter 4

Mulder and Scully's Home - Chilmark, MA 

Mulder dumped the bike in the gravel driveway. For a split second, he envisioned running into the house and finding everything as he'd left it that morning. Scully would remind him of his paranoia, and they would laugh about it... but for that split second when all was well. 

The porch light was on, anticipating his arrival. The lights inside indicated that Scully was home from work. He raced up the porch steps, slowing as his eyes took in the splintered door. He stopped mid-breath, as the life was sucked from his lungs. 

The flowers in his hand fell to the porch floor. Instinctively but without a hint of recognition on his part, he reached for the gun holstered on his hip. It wasn't there. It hadn't been there for years. 

Starting forward, his greatest fear rushed at him, a fear involving Scully's fate. Although he'd witnessed hundreds of crime scenes, scenes far worse than this, he wasn't prepared to enter the portrait he'd just stepped into. Rocking backwards on his heels, he was held erect only by the broken door frame and years of experience that forced him to maintain his sanity. 

Gathering his wits, he stepped inside. Furniture was ripped to shreds. Pictures and plants lay among broken clay pots where potting soil darkened the floor. China that had once belonged to Scully's mother lay smashed at the base of the hutch. Torn sheet music lay beneath the piano bench on the hardwood floor. The living and dining rooms, which were in his immediate sight, looked as though a nor'easter had blown through. 

"Scully?" he said just above a whisper before finding his voice. "Scully!" 

No answer. Mulder walked cautiously into the kitchen and stopped. A wooden block lay on the floor, knives scattered about. Broken glasses from smashed dishes littered the floor. A large pan teetered on the edge of the stove where water dripped slowly out of it. Beneath it on the ceramic tile, a mound of partially cooked spaghetti rested in a pool of steaming water. Another pan's lid rattled incessantly as spaghetti sauce bubbled over, conjuring up a hiss from the hot burner. 

Stepping around the end of the corner bar, Mulder found he had to rely on it for support. Blood stained the side of the white bead-board cabinets beneath the bar. A trail of it was smeared across the floor in the direction of the back door. A knife, its blade bent in half, rested in a pool of the same. Unable to take his eyes from it, Mulder began to tremble. 

Something small lay on the floor beside the knife. Involuntarily, he went to his knees, his eyes searching the object out. When he recognized it was Scully's gold cross necklace, he dove to recover it, his free hand flat against the floor in support. How long he stared at it, he didn't know. Recalling this moment later, he would swear that time had stopped, that the very image of the bloodied cross stirred something deep within him. 

Suddenly overcome with weakness, he reached up and grabbed hold of the counter top, pulling himself to his feet. He looked at the cross resting in his bloody hand. As if seeing the blood for the first time, he dropped the necklace on the counter and frantically wiped his hands against the front of his shirt. Panic seized him. 

Mulder exploded out the back door, missing most of the steps that led down to the lawn. He landed hard on his knees in the damp grass. An anguished cry forced its way from deep within him and shattered the night sounds. Tears burned his eyes. Terror gripped his midsection, seizing his breath. Everything was a blur. It didn't make sense... or did it? 

"Scully!" he screamed, his voice blending in with the sudden sound of whirring rotors. 

In the darkening sky at the back edge of the yard, a helicopter rose up from the beach, hovering just above the treetops. In that moment in time, Mulder understood the anxiety he'd felt earlier when his attempts to reach Scully had failed. He understood it, but he struggled against accepting it as the helicopter began to move away. 

Hurrying to his feet, he raced across the backyard towards the embankment. Crashing through the back gate, he descended the wood plank steps, screaming Scully's name. Fear pushed him towards the jetty where, at the end of it, the helicopter waited, daring him in a standoff. Without hesitation, he sprinted with only one goal in mind. It left no room for failure. 

Resistance from the rotors threatened, but Mulder remained focused. Realizing they'd been playing him all along, he ran harder as the helicopter jerked slightly from its position. Without concern for his own safety, Mulder leapt off the jetty, arms outstretched and just barely grasping the rung at the last second with one hand. Struggling desperately to hang on, he pulled himself up where both hands held fast now, but the rung was slippery, making traction difficult. Hanging suspended, he screamed for Scully, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of the helicopter. 

The pilot raced back and forth, moving inland towards the edge of the tree line only to jerk away at the last minute in the opposite direction. It was all Mulder could do just to hang on, leaving him no opportunity to reach for the door. Time slipped by; exhaustion bore down on him. The muscles in his arms and shoulders burned away at his resolve. 

"Scully!" he screamed, hoping she could hear him. 

A sharp turn dislodged one hand. Swinging wildly, he tried to grab the rung again, but the pilot sent the copter into a spiral that disoriented him. His grip failing, he fell blindly into the darkness below. 

Not knowing if he'd hit land or sea, Mulder really didn't care. The only thing that mattered was that he had failed the woman he loved.

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A/N:  How many times in the show did Mulder call out Scully's name, concerned with her whereabouts? And how many times was he on the verge of finding out the truth, when it would be taken away from him at the last minute just as he was about to grasp it? Too many times, and yet viewers continued to cheer on this underdog. Failure was a constant part of Mulder's life and while there were times when he thought he could go no further, he did. Failure was never an option... never!