Letonia - 10/10

Letonia
10/10

The room was dark, but Scully’s internal clock told her that it was late afternoon. She’s dozed off just as the sun started to come up. It certainly hadn’t been her intention. Someone had closed the drapes for her, and tucked a blanket around her. Waiting for her eyes to adjust, she lay there, luxuriating in the cool air circulating throughout the room.

It was the only thing that she was going to enjoy about the day. Dragging herself out of bed, she padded silently through the room. She didn’t want to open the blinds just yet. From the strength of the air conditioner, it was going to be a scorcher of a day, and she thought it considerate to keep the room cool for the others. They’d be moving her things out soon enough, and she didn’t want to make it uncomfortable for them.

She looked through the bags of clothes for something practical and comfortable. She didn’t know how long she’d be in what ever she put on. She finally settled on a two layer box neck tank top with a pale yellow sheer layer over a white fabric, and dark board shorts. She’d be hot when she went outside today, but the nights were still cool, and the air conditioning prevented it from becoming too warm in here. She set aside a tan pea coat and dark jeans that looked like they could take the wear, feeling slightly guilty. She’d take them with her too. She didn’t know what she’d end up needing.

Pulling the tank down over her head, she stopped as she caught site of herself in the mirror. She tugged the shirt the rest of the way down, then walked in close to the glass.

“Oh crap,” she muttered under her breath. Her eyes were slit like an eagle’s. She couldn’t remember if there was a pair of sunglasses among her things. This would certainly make her more noticeable.

Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself.

Maybe....

She took another deep breath, and braced herself against the wall table below the mirror. Looking deep into her eyes, she concentrated. Thought of darkness. Slowly, her pupils returned to normal, and the shadows in the room deepened. Letting go, she let her eyes return to a cat’s. This time, the change back to normal was faster. Feeling her confidence rise, she repeated the process several more times, then finally did it without the mirror. She did it until she could tell by her vision what her eyes would look like to someone else.

Satisfied, she headed to the door. *Xavier didn’t know what he was talking about,* she assured herself. *Look at exactly how much time it took me to get that under control.*

*Of course,* that voice whispered, *Exactly how serious is what your eyes look like? *

*Shut up. I can do this.*

Then she opened the door, and bright sunlight hit her eyes, penetrating to the base of her brain. Letting out a little shriek, she covered her face with her hands and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms.

*Stupid, stupid, stupid. Eyes accustomed to the dark, pupils as big as they get, and you walk out into the sun filled hallway. You really are the bright one now, aren’t you?*

She felt hands on her shoulders as she bent over double. Someone was asking her if she was all right. Trying to blink the brilliance from her sight, she couldn’t see the face of her well wisher. She thought that she could recognize Remy’s voice though. He sounded confused and sleepy.

The last of the spots fading from sight, and she looked up into Gambit’s confused face. He really didn’t look quite awake. “You all right chere?” He asked.

Glancing around, she saw his trench coat wadded into a pillow on the floor. Seeing where her eyes rested, he merely shrugged. For some reason she could see him there, propped up against the wall while she slept. He had to have been the one who closed the drapes and covered her.

“I just got some sun in my eyes. I’m fine.”

He looked at her strangely, but let it slide. “What you want to do today Dana? Remy be your guide,” he said, flashing her his brightest smile.

Smiling sadly, she tried to gently deflect him. “I think that I know where every thing is.” Which was truer than he could know. “Plus, I just woke up, and I usually spend some time by myself after manage to drag myself out of bed.”

Gambit scrutinized her carefully, maybe looking for signs that if he left her alone, what had afflicted her after she came out of the room would trouble her again. Looking unsure of himself, he nodded slightly.

“I thought that I might take a walk, if that’s all right. I promise not to destroy any expensive imported flora. Scout’s Honour.”

“Why is it dat I don’t think you were ever a Boy Scout?”

“FBI Agent’s honour, then.”

“Look, Chere, about last night, you have to understand dat da Professor, he,” Remy started.

“It’s all right, really. I do understand. Maybe even more than you do.”

Bidding him good bye, she headed downstairs. She didn’t see anyone else. The mansion seemed deserted. Maybe the others were off training in the Danger Room. Stopping in the kitchen, she grabbed some fruit and a muffin from the fridge. She’d missed breakfast and lunch. She padded outside, digging her bare toes into the soft, warm grass. She wandered a bit. The lands inside the fence were huge, much bigger than they appeared from the outside. *I guess when you occasionally have to crash land a jet....*

She sat down by a pool to eat, dangling her feet in the water.

Her strategy was very simple. Avoid everyone until she was ready to go. These people, this place, they all ready had too strong a hold on her. It was harder to let go every time she saw Bobby pull a prank, Bishop sigh dramatically, Logan shoot Ororo a sidelong glance when he thought no one was looking, every time she spent time with Remy and Ro, even when Betsy rolled her eyes in exasperation. Finishing up the muffin, she glanced around. She was still too close to the house.

Without any direction from her mind, her feet wandered into the woods. The pine needles and fallen leaves were cool against her soles, the ground itself soft and dry. Glancing at her skin in the light that filtered in through the canopy, she saw that despite the fact that she’d been out in the sun for more than an hour, she didn’t have even the faintest signs of a tan, let alone a burn.

She wandered aimlessly for a time, exploring the woods. Hank had loved it here, and she could see what it had looked like from his tree top perches. It was slightly disorienting, almost like being in two places at once. She liked to imagine that she could feel him striding beside her, but it was only his memories.

Without consciously realizing it, her feet found their way to the graveyard, which was on the property. So it was a surprise to her when she found herself standing in the last of the trees, looking into a cemetery which wasn’t quite uninhabited. A single figure stood by the fresh grave. This was one that Scully didn’t recognize, but something else inside of her called out in recognition.

“You’re trespassing,” she called. When the figure, a man, dropped into a fighting stance, she continued. “This is private property. It doesn’t mean that I’m going to shoot you, you know.”

The man didn’t say a word, nor did his bearing change. His eyes reminded Scully of the Bounty Hunter’s for some reason. Maybe it was just the fact that he hadn’t made a single sound yet, that that same eerie quiet seemed to cloak him. Then the other familiarity stirred again, the one from inside her other recollections. The man didn’t move, his eyes still locked on Scully. She forged on, hoping for something concrete to surface. “Look, it’s all right, but you might want to get out of here before the others find out. They tend to be a bit touchy about their privacy.”

He spoke finally, but his voice was sing songy and melodious. “You’re new.”

Scully felt shivers shoot up and down her body, despite the fact that she had just stepped back out into the sun. The sound was more than slightly scary. It edged on insanity. “Yeah, I am.” *What am I getting myself into?* she wondered as she cautiously moved forward, drawn by some strange attraction.

The man seemed to be guarding Rogue’s grave. “They let her die, you know. They seduced her to their side with their pretty words and fancy toys, and they let her die.”

The man’s face shimmered slightly.

*Mystique. Raven. * The recollections finally offered up. The man was a woman, and she was losing control of her form. As Scully was thinking that, Mystique shimmered again, and snapped back to her natural body. Blue skinned and dark eyed, the illusion of sanity seemed slightly thinner now.

“That’s not how it was, Raven.”

“Really, pretty one. Tell me how it was. Tell me how a girl I raised as my daughter abandoned me. Tell me how she died. Tell me *why* she died.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand.”

Taking a deep breath, she hoped that what she was about to say wouldn’t get her strangled. Or worse. “She died for what she believed in. It was how she wanted to go, you know that. Her only regret was that she’d had to turn on you to follow her path. This was her home. She’s at peace now, more than she found in life.”

“Is that supposed to comfort me?”

The silence was broken by the chirping of squirrel, which immediately fell silent as if it knew what it was intruding on.

“No. It’s just how it is.”

And gathering all the courage she had ever had, she turned her back on a killer and padded slowly back into the trees. She could feel Mystique’s eyes at the base of her spine. She kept on waiting for a flash of pain, the coldness of steel, a blur of movement preceding blackness. And she kept her path steady, her back strait.

She wouldn’t let Mystique see her fear.

She felt the dancing eyes leave her as she disappeared into the forest. Not daring to hope that she’d gotten away that easily, she glanced back furtively.

The clearing was empty.

When she returned to the Mansion, the heat was just starting to leave the day. The sun was no longer high in the sky.

She headed in the back entrance and walked up to her (*The*) room. Opening the door, she stopped dead. All of her things were gone, save for the coat and jeans she had set aside earlier, and a pair of cross trainers and socks. A hollow ache filled her. Yes, she had expected this, but she’d thought that they would’ve waited at least until she had gone. She would have thought that they’d wait to see what had happened to her, then pack up. She hadn’t even told them that she was going to sneak into Doggett’s grab Evan, and figure things out from there. She’d tell Doggett, of course, so that the search for her son was not quite to brutal, but she’d figure things out from there. Scully was reasonably sure that she could get in without being seen.

But the room was empty and impersonal once again.

She hadn’t even told them that she was leaving.

Stuffing the lump of betrayal back down into her throat, she changed clothes quickly, not wanting to remain in the empty room for any longer than necessary. Why did she feel so wronged? It was only logical, their reaction. It wasn’t like she really meant anything to them.

She was slightly surprised that she didn’t meet anyone throughout the house. Usually, it seemed to be crawling with people. Now not a single step ghosted through the corridors. Feeling suddenly alone and wondering what she was going to do for transportation, she headed down the steps for the last time, trailing her fingers on the railing.

Pushing open the heavy front doors, she stepped out into the recently picked up wind, her hair flipping behind her. This certainly was a week of contrary weather. The fact that a weather witch lived on premisis probably had something to do with it.

The scene in front of her didn’t make sense at first. She could see a non-descript blue sedan with Montana plates parked on the asphalt by the curb. Remy was just finishing dropping the last of a series of bags into the trunk. Ororo sat on the front hood of the car. Raising an eyebrow at Scully, she said “Enjoy your walk?”

Scully could recognize one of the bags in the trunk as definitely being one she’d brought back from the mall days ago. Feet rooted half way down the stairs, she gaped.

“Well petite, you coming or no?” Gambit asked as he slid open the door to the rear seat.

Ororo smiled at the look on Scully’s face. “Did you really believe that we would leave you high and dry?”

Feeling some of her hope return, Scully climbed into the shotgun position, and Gambit grumbled something about being made to sit in the back. Ororo got in gracefully, then pulled the car out towards the highway, heading back to DC.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she said finally, breaking the silence.

“You would have us cast you out leave you nothing?” Storm replied

“I’ve already imposed on you enough.”

“You aint been no trouble, Dana,” Remy told her. “In fact, I be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“There was no need to drive out with me, at the very least. You could even be putting your friends at risk. If I’m spotted and you’re with me, it could bring the government down on you.”

“I’m afraid we can’t go with you all the way, for that very reason,” Ororo continued. “We must leave you a few blocks before your partner’s. We’re merely here for moral support.”

“One, how are you planning on getting back, and two, how did you know where I was going to go?”

“You are risking this for your son. Where else would you go?

“As for the other, I can fly high enough to not be noticeable to human eyes.”

They drove in practical silence for the rest of the trip. By the time that they reached DC, the sun was going down.

The sunset was magnificent that night. The sun was a huge scarlet ball hanging low in the sky, bathing everything in a rosy glow. Maybe it was because of this that they didn’t notice the fire until they were almost at Doggett’s. The harsh light from the blaze was lost in the setting light. Scully smelled it before anything, carbon and ozone and rubber, and something sickly sweet that she didn’t want to think about. Her senses alerted, she searched the horizon. She finally saw telltale licks of flame touching the red sky.

It looked like it was coming from Doggett’s neighbourhood.

“Shit,” she whispered, not quite under her breath. Ororo and Remy followed her gaze, and she saw Ororo’s eyes go white, as if she were checking something. She stepped on the gas, weaving through the light traffic, heedless of being seen by any Syndicate Agents. She pulled right up to the street. The three clambered out, quickly taking in the destruction. The fire had consumes half of the block, and was working its way through the back alleys.

Why wasn’t the fire department there?

A young woman carrying a child bumped dazedly into Scully. “Are they coming?” she asked, her voice thick with smoke. “I called ten minutes ago, but the trucks aren’t here yet. Why aren’t the trucks here?” The child in her arms coughed weakly. Scully reached out without a thought, and draped clarity through the both of them, minimizing the damage that the paramedics would have to look after. She thought that she recognized the woman. She was one of Doggett’s neighbours. Rain began to fall, hammering into the pavement, sizzling in the fire. Storm’s eyes were white as she stood in the middle of the street, her arms upraised towards the sky. The rain intensified, but the fire was out of control. Gambit was helping some of the people wandering the street to the relative shelter of a bus stop at the far corner of the street.

Scully concentrated on the girl. “Listen to me. This is very important. Do you know if Agent Doggett was home when this started?” The girl, sobbing quietly, nodded her head. Scully scanned for him or Evan, but the downpour made it impossible for her to make out features. The girl started shuddering, clutching the babe tight to her chest. Scully was starting to panic.

She could feel Evan now. He was hot and afraid. There was a lot of smoke and a pressure on top of him.

Evan and Doggett were still inside. Running down the street, her footsteps were lost in the crackling and showers, giving her the odd feeling that the fire was more than it seemed, that maybe it had eaten everyone but her and Doggett and Evan, and it was starting in on them.

Doggett’s house was in the process of being consumed by fire. The front door was too hot for to even consider using it, but the back one was only partially blocked. She threw herself through, and then the heat hit her. She ran through the kitchen. They weren’t in the living room, or any of the downstairs bedrooms. She stared in apprehension at the stairs, consumed by flames as she doubled over coughing in the smoke.

The were upstairs. She knew it.

Steeling herself, telling herself that it was a short flight, that it would heal, that they needed her, she dashed up the stairs, managing to avoid the worst of the flames. She felt her skin begin to sizzle.

She found Doggett passed out from smoke inhalation part way down the hall. Evan’s still form was partially under him, shielded from the worst of the smoke and heat. She could hear her son’s weak screams. Doggett was starting to come around a little, from being under the smoke level. It was a miracle that the blaze had taken so long in eating its way down this hall. Counting her blessings, she tried to revive him a little. When he was roused enough to move, she grabbed his hand, pulling him farther down the hall, Evan clutched tightly under her other arm.

She couldn’t take them down the stairs, not now.

Doggett wasn’t much help. He was barely conscious, and had no idea what was going on.

The porch roof out back was probably their best bet. She found her way arduously to the supply room, keeping low. She closed the door tightly behind them, cursing as the heat of the metal nob bit into her palm. Searching the small, cramped room with her eyes, she found what she was looking for. She grabbed an old mop propped up against some shelving and used it to break the window open. The fresh air coming in seemed to revive Doggett a little, and at Evan’s increased wail, he reached almost frantically for the child. He still didn’t recognize her, though. His eyes were probably completely blurred. She turned his head to the window and he nodded in understanding. They crawled out onto the roof, and then she headed as quickly as she could over the hot, steaming tiles to the edge. She handed Evan to Doggett and ignoring the pain that lanced through her fingers, she grabbed onto the gutter and flipped over the edge, then dropped the remaining few feet to the ground. Doggett lay down on his stomach and passed Evan into her waiting hands. He then attempted to perform the same move as she had, but his arms gave out on him and he came crashing down to the ground.

Part of his sleeve was on fire. Scully beat it out desperately, feeling the stifling heat growing.

The seconds had cost them. The fire almost completely cut the backyard off from the street. Scully had forgotten that it was raining. It didn’t seem to be doing much good, in any case. The fire was closing in on them, hungry fingers reaching out to pluck at their hair and clothes. The rain hit the wall of fire separating them from the street with a vengeance, intensifying until it pushed to the side slightly. Scully could see the toll the intense volley was taking on Storm. The rain elsewhere had slackened slightly. Grabbing Doggett and holding Evan closer to her chest, she plunged through the small opening and out into the street.

Almost the entire block was burning.

Ororo was flagging. Remy had almost everyone away.

Where were the fire trucks? The ambulances? Why the hell were they taking so long?

She practically dragged Doggett and Evan to safety, feeling herself start to grow stronger with each step. When they were far enough away, she let Doggett lie down, and placed Evan in his arms. She started to hear the sirens approaching. Leaning forward, she pushed the energy into Evan. When he was almost completely well, she cut off, starting in on Doggett. She was very afraid for him.

He’d been in there so long.

She felt him start to leave the woods when a hand closed on her shoulder, pulling her away from him. She hit the ground hard several feet away, the pavement taking the skin off of the burns on her hands which had only just begun to heal. A man clothed all in black with a headset on aimed a gun at her head. Acting on instinct alone, she threw herself to the right, farther away from Doggett and her son. A shot slammed into the ground where she had been mere seconds before, sending water and slivers of asphalt flying.

“Mutie freak,” he hissed, his face twisted with hate.

Scully knew all of a sudden why the fire department and ambulances had taken so long to get here. Playing for time, she asked him, “Why?”

“Like you deserve an explanation.” But his hatred was mixed with a desire to rub what had happened in. “There was a chemical got into the water. They thought it might make more abominations like you. Already had, actually. They had to wipe out the danger. Cull the herd.” She read the tension in his body, and darted off again just before he fired again. She was around the corner in a flash, hoping that he’d focus on her.

The sirens were close now. She headed down a back alley, away from the open. It was too late before she realized that this was a dead end. A high brick wall closed off the gap between the apartment buildings. She turned around and saw the man pacing slowly towards her.

He was enjoying this. She could see it in his eyes, in the way he handled the gun, never quite bringing it to bear on her. Then he smiled that ugly smile, and brought the gun to a bead on her forehead. She stared into his eyes. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her cringe. A shot rang out, and she winced back in reflex, despite all of her best intentions. Feeling a sort of shock as no pain tore its way through her head, she watched as the man in black toppled over. When he hit the ground, she could see Krychek standing behind him, his gun still pointed to where the other man had been standing mere seconds before. She waited for her turn, but the shot never came. Instead, he holstered his weapon and walked towards her, shouting over the pouring rain. “....ggett and Evan, one of the ambulances. Heading to St. Mary’s. They’ll be fine.” When he stood beside her, she contemplated killing him. Just the fact that he’d recognized her was a bad sign. He’d report back to them, no matter that he had just saved her life. She must be worth more at the moment alive than dead. It would be so easy, just reach out and stop the flow of energy to his throat, effectively strangling him. It would look like a double murder. Unaware of the train of her thoughts, he stopped talking for a second, as if out of air, and rubbed his throat uncomfortably, gulping in oxygen.

Gulping for air.

Horror filled her. She’d been contemplating murder. She could’ve killed him without even trying. Reaching out, she let go of her unconscious hold. Krychek looked at her strangely. Looking deep into his eyes, she thought that it would be in his own best interest to never mention this to anyone. He’d just killed one of his own men.

He had to know that.

Surviving was what Krychek did best.

Brushing past him, she headed for the hospital at a run.

The journey was mostly a blur to her. She remembered dodging the cops on patrol. At one time, she stopped to take inventory of herself. The rain had washed away the soot, and her burns were almost completely healed. The jacket was a loss, but the fact that it had been done up had protected her shirt for the most part. She’d leave the coat on for now, because she would attract more attention in just a tank top, but when she got the hospital, she’d have to ditch it.

In the confusion caused by the great number of new patients, Scully managed to sneak into the hospital and get a look at the charts. Evan was up in the children’s ward. Dropping the jacket behind a potted plant, she worked her way through the white corridors.

Evan’s room had a window in it. She could see Doggett in a wheelchair beside Evan’s crib. His eyes looked like hell. It would be awhile before they finally healed. She wished that she could help, but she couldn’t touch him. Mulder was pacing furiously, angry that Doggett had put Evan in danger. Skinner was calming him down.

Evan looked so small, so fragile.

Doggett was hovering over him.

What would it be like for him to grow up on the run, never having a permanent home? Never trusting anyone, moving every few years, if indeed they could stay even that long? Always hunted, never safe, never being able to let down your guard?

What kind of life was that?

Scully leaned against the glass, the coolness welcome against her forehead. She reached out her hands to him, but the glass held her back.

If they looked over and saw her, she’d stay. She wanted to cry out for them to turn around, to see her.

But life stood still in that room, even as it slowly revolved around that child. Her child.

She kissed her finger tips, and touched the glass by each of their heads.

*

John Doggett looked up from Evan. Something called in the back of his head, demanding his attention. He looked at Skinner and Mulder, not bickering anymore, then turned his blurred gaze to the window. A flash of red and gold skittered out of the edge of his vision. Mulder saw his eyes strain.

“What? What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing. I just thought I saw someone for a moment.” Doggett replied.

Mulder studied him for a few seconds, then bolted from the room and into the hall. He scanned the people milling, looking for any sign of her. A flash of flame, an overheard sarcastic comment, anything.

Finding nothing, he pushed himself farther and farther away, searching.

Doggett remained in the room with Skinner. He watched as Mulder started his search again.

Then he turned back to Evan, stroking the boy’s fine red hair.

He had his peace.

*

Dana managed to walk evenly to the back set of hospital doors. She pushed outside and felt suddenly weak. She leaned back against the wall, feeling the roughness of the bricks against her bare arms. All of the strength flowed out of her legs, and she slid slowly down to the ground. She watched the rain flow in torrents over the overhang. It was bright against the night, but it obscured what lay ahead.

Wetness trickled down her face slowly.

Without looking up, she could tell that Remy and Ororo stood beside her. They’d probably been driving themselves crazy looking for her. Ororo finally crouched down beside her, and put an arm around Dana’s shoulders. “Shhh, it’s all right. It’s good to cry. Just let it out,” she whispered. Dana felt a wracking sob come up from deep within her, and she clutched onto the other woman as if she were a child. She cried for what could have been an hour or a minute or a day, and after a time, Remy put an arm around her too. When she’d used all her tears, she let out a single sniffle. One arm on the wall, she stood up, and started forwards. Remy wrapped his long coat around her without a comment, the warmth helping subdue the shudders that coursed through her.

She paused at the curtain of rain, glancing back to the hospital, with its bright lights and familiar warmth. People she knew, people she loved, were inside. It wasn’t too late to turn back. She looked a the sheet of rain, trying to discern what lay beyond it, but the images were shadowed and strange.

She took a deep breath and started forward, Ororo and Remy at her side, then stepped through the curtain and into the world. The rain washed over her, chilling her to the core, stripping away the residual heat, but she kept going.

She knew that some where up ahead, there was warmth.

~Fin~

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