Chapter Seven:

Mulder

Aylebourne Apartment
10:44 p.m.


I was angry. Just plain, old-fashioned fucking angry. More at myself than anything. For getting Scully caught up in this. If anything happened to her, it would be my fault. I had a chance to just walk away from my suspicions. But I didn't. I had to know the truth. The goddamned, fucking truth about Aylebourne. I paced the room of their flat over and over again. We were meeting this Cyrus at 4:30 a.m. at Riley Observatory, outside of town. Some abandoned building no longer used for scientific research.

Jessica insisted on playing Scully for this charade. I suspected it was really out of some sense of guilt. Knowing she was the intended victim. But Scully was once again, in the wrong place at the right time. I would have rather just left them both here and go and get Scully on my own. After all, it wasn't the first time I'd have to kill a vampire. It was so rare anyone helped me find Scully. Normally, I have to go it alone. This time, I'd be fighting fire with fire.

"Fox, is this okay?" Jessica asked, emerging out of their bedroom.

I turned around to get a better look at her.

"I only have two pantsuits. I mostly wear formal gowns for my concerts," she said, stepping into the room. "Will this do?"

She was wearing a dark suit, tailored like Scully's. Buttoning in the front across her shapely figure. She turned around slowly, seeking my approval. It looked brown to me, but I am red/green colorblind. Her hair was swept up, wound tightly in a twist. But she parted the wispy strands in the front like Scully's. Now that she was all dressed up, it was easy to see how the mistake could have been made. They looked so much alike. But she was just a pale reflection of the real thing for me.

"Fine," I said, nodding at her. I reached in the pocket of my trench for Scully's ID. I threw the badge at her, her quick reflexes caught it smoothly. "Clip that to your lapel."

She did, looking up at me. "Here?"

"Yes," I said, tossing her Scully's gun. "Ever use a gun?"

Jessica nodded, holding the weapon carefully and checking the safety. "Yes, I have. I learned to use one for protection. From my first husband. Need to see my license?"

I shook my head. "Doubt it you'll use it. I don't have any silver bullets anyway."

She smiled at my joke. "You know that's werewolves, Fox."

I grinned slightly.

Aylebourne was busy making a weapon of another kind. He had some broken wood pieces he was quickly sharpening to a point.

I continued to pace, not wanting to talk. Jessica sat down at the piano. The clock on the wall had barely moved. Goddamn it.

"Ever use a stake?" Aylebourne asked, imitating my question.

"Actually, I have," I replied. "But I didn't penetrate the heart correctly. The bastard got up and tried to kill the coroner."

Music, soft and low played in the background. Chopin, I think.

"Quite a story," Aylebourne said, studying me. "So, what happened?"

"The vampires just left town," I said, quickly abbreviating the tale.

"I know a few things about leaving town," he said. "That's how I figured out your whole Rob and Laura charade. I know how to disappear and reappear as someone else. How not to be observed or followed."

Her playing increased, filling the room around us.

"You knew what to look for. Like I knew what to look for," I muttered. That fucking clock still hadn't moved.

"You're either a danger or an asset to my kind," he said. "Your kind is."

"What? The FBI?" I snapped, getting irritated at waiting.

"No. A believer. Jeremiah is a believer, too. Someone I can trust," Aylebourne continued, working on the stake.

The music continued, rising and falling dramatically. Almost mirroring my emotions.

"And a believer is a danger because...?"

"Because some believers want to expose us for what we are. They know we exist and therefore, must find the proof of it," he said quietly. "Agent Scully could be a danger."

"But she is not a believer," I said, matter-of-factly. "Which is why this is so fucking dangerous for her!"

"She knew your theory, right? You told her..." Aylebourne said, stopping at staring at me.

"Yes, but she didn't believe a nice, normal couple like you were really what you are," I said, more bitterly than what I wanted to. "Now, I hope she knows what's she dealing with."

Aylebourne opened his mouth to speak, but was silent as the music swelled even louder.

"And will you stop playing that goddamn piano!" I shouted, pressing my fingertips to the bridge of my nose. "I can't hear myself think."

"I'm sorry," Jessica replied, closing the piano cover and folding her arms on it. "I was just trying to relax you."

"Jessie's had some hard critics before," he mused, smiling at his wife. Jessica nodded, smiling back.

"No offense taken, Fox," she said quietly.

I have this same unspoken communication with Scully. The ability to just look across the room at someone and know what they are thinking. Feeling. Functioning as one complete person, than two separate beings. One half-just doesn't do.

"We'll find her, Fox," Jessica said, breaking the uneasy silence. "I promise you."

"I promise you," Peter said firmly, grabbing me my the arm. His eyes bored into mine, sealing his words.


*****

3:00 a.m.


I have no idea how I made it through the night, but I did. Mostly in part to Jessica, telling me stories about her transformation. Learning to live as a vampire. Telling me how it wasn't at all what she thought it was going to be like. Aylebourne avoided telling me much more about Cyrus, probably so I wouldn't worry. But I already feared the worst.

Peter gathered the wooden stakes, Jessica was ready to play Scully. I had given her a rundown of standard hostage protocol. I'd been in the negotiator position numerous times. We were able to download some maps from the field office of the Riley Observatory, studying the layout carefully. It had been abandoned for years, but hopefully the schematics hadn't changed. It all depended on where he'd have her.

"Nice car," I said, surveying the 1997 BMW convertible. Black. I eased into the passenger side, Jessica into the back. She leaned forward so she was between us. Riley Observatory was in Naperville, 40 minutes away.

"Being a vampire artist does have its advantages. You don't spend so much money on food and can afford other luxuries," he said, looking over at me.

I smiled weakly. If things were different, I'd love to question the hell out him. About his strange life and situation. But it was neither the time or the place.

"Has Cyrus ever bargained for someone's life before?" I asked, as he drove out.

Aylebourne was quiet, glancing over at me. "Honestly? No. He would just kill them anyway."

"But that's not going to happen," Jessica said, putting her hand on my shoulder.

I sighed, clenching my teeth. "But we do have a bargaining chip...something he wants."

"Yes," Aylebourne answered. "He wants me. The mere fact he's gone through all this trouble to get me here makes me firmly believe she's still very much alive."

"And he did return Jeremiah," Jessica added, obviously trying to make me feel more in control.

"Does he have any idea that you're a vampire?" I asked, turning my head so we were face to face.

Jessica's eyes searched mine, but it was Aylebourne that answered. "No, I don't think he does. That will make her safe as well, he won't expect anything from her."

"But he can expect something from me," Jessica said firmly. "I can be full of surprises."

"No," I said firmly. "Let's stick to the plan. Peter goes in first, we will shadow him from behind. Our first priority is to get Scully away from him. Safe."

"What about Cyrus?" Jessica asked, moving her hand to her husband's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Aylebourne sighed, then placed his hand over hers. "What about him, my love?"

"He's not going to let you go without a fight," she said, clutching him tighter.

"Then we'll show him a fight. Together," he said, smiling at her gently.

I turned away from them, staring out at the dark landscape ahead. Although he was trying to be strong for his wife, I could tell in his body language and tone he was worried.

And that worried me even more.


****

Peter

3:45 a.m.


I was scared.

I will not lie about that fact. I was completely, absolutely, bone-chillingly scared.

But I wasn't about to tell Jessie that. And I certainly wasn't going to let Agent Mulder know about it.

The pressure of Jessie's fingers against my shoulder was a comfort and I thought briefly of the first time we made love; remembering the feel of her fingers clutching my shoulders in a much different manner. My hand was resting over hers, touching her in a comforting manner. She was scared too. I could feel it.

I wanted to convince myself that everything was going to be all right; that we were all going to live through this. I had promised Agent Mulder we would get his partner back. And I always did everything I could to keep my promises.

Everything.

The headlights of the car suddenly illuminated a roadside sign that read, "Naperville." I felt Jessie's fingers tighten on my shoulder and next to me, I felt Agent Mulder sit up a little straighter, peering out at the darkened houses we were passing as we drove through the town.

In studying the maps back at the flat, we had discovered a water reclamation district building a mile from the observatory. We decided that would be the best place to leave the car while we each made our way across the open fields. I would go first with Jessie and Agent Mulder following ten minutes behind.

As I pulled the car behind the sickly green building, Agent Mulder was already unfastening his seat belt. As I turned the car off, he jumped out. For a brief moment, I thought he was going to take off towards the observatory. Instead, he took a few steps around the side of the building and gazed at the structure across the fields.

It loomed against the heavens, cutting a dome-shaped section of stars out of the night sky. Silent and dark, it reminded me of a great slumbering beast.

Funny that I should think of a beast when I was here to do battle with a monster.

Jessie climbed out of the car a few moments later, but she stayed near me. I got out a moment later.

I could see her in the semi-darkness. Her face was a neutral mask, but her eyes held fear. I reached out, took her hands in mine and softly kissed her. As I pulled back, she peered up at me, her eyes wide.

"You do realize," I whispered to her. "That Cyrus may succeed in what he's trying to do."

"Destroying everything you love?"

"Yes," I answered. "And because of that, I'm going to have to destroy him."

The neutral mask of her expression suddenly slipped and fear came shining through.

"I can't let him do this anymore, Jessie," I whispered to her. "He's hurt too many innocents in his quest to get me back. And he'll never stop until he feels he has me back." I shook my head and felt my grip on her hands tighten. "I should have ended this a long time ago, but I was too weak. I was so tired of killing and I didn't want to take another life."

"But you think you have to now."

"I know I have to, Jessie," I said softly. "It has to end here. I can't let anyone else be hurt. Not Agent Scully. Not Agent Mulder. And especially not you."

"Can you destroy him?"

"I don't know."

It was at that moment, the truth of what I wanted to tell her struck home; that in destroying Cyrus, I might not survive. Her wide eyes suddenly filled with tears. "Peter—," she whispered.

"Shhh, my sweet," I whispered. "Don't say anything. Just do one thing for me."

"What?"

"Pray for me."

A choked sob escaped her throat. "Yes."

Slipping my arms around her, I kissed her as if for the last time. And for a brief moment, I was certain it was. Her arms wrapped around my neck as she fervently returned the kiss.

Pulling away when it finally ended, her voice was a mere breath. "Come back to me."

I gave her a sad smile and whispered, "I love you, Jessie."

"I love you, Peter."

"I have to go."

She silently nodded, tears beginning to course down her cheeks.

It was so hard to walk away from her at that moment. How I managed to find the strength, I will never know.

I didn't look back to her, knowing that if I did, I wouldn't be able to keep walking. And if I stopped, I'd break my promise to Agent Mulder.

"Peter?"

Speak of the devil.

I stopped and turned to him as he stepped out of the shadows of the building and into the starlight of the early morning sky, allowing me to see him clearly.

"Yes, Agent Mulder?"

He hesitated a moment before he finally spoke. "Good luck."

I couldn't help smiling. "Thank you, Fox," I said quietly. "Would you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Look after my wife."

In the darkness, he nodded. "Only if you look after Agent Scully."

"I already promised you I would."

I turned away from him and began to walk across the fields towards the observatory.


****

4:05 a.m.


It's said that upon impending death, a man's life will flash before his eyes and he will see his regrets and his losses. I had over 400 years to flash before my eyes, but oddly enough, that didn't happen. At least not the 400 years. As I walked across that field, only the last decade or so flashed through my mind. Meeting and knowing Jeremiah, my best friend. Meeting and falling in love with Jessie, my lover, my wife, my soulmate.

I had no losses. And the only regret I had was that I was leaving Jessie alone. Somehow, I knew she would have the strength to go on. But I silently prayed that she would find someone else to love, so she wouldn't have to go on alone. She had been alone enough in her life.

The fields seemed to stretch out in front of me into forever, even though I knew there was only a mile between me and the observatory. I could have easily crossed the distance in a few moments, but like any sane living creature, I was not anxious to meet my death.

But still, I refused to run from it, cowering and screaming. I would certainly fight to keep my life. But if needs be, I would look Death straight in the eyes before I left this world.

When did I suddenly become so morbid?

That thought came out of nowhere and I had to fight not to laugh out loud at its absurdity. In an instant, my mood was suddenly lifted and I was filled with a sense of determination.

Cyrus meant to take everything from me that I loved.

I refused to allow that.

I was going to make him pay for everything he had done, all the killings, all the kidnappings, all the pain he had inflicted on people, just to get at me.

For a brief instant, I remembered a night just after Jessie and I had been married. We had been laying in bed, quietly talking after having made love. Somehow, the conversation had turned to the subject of her first husband and she had admitted to me that her feelings for him had changed.

"I used to hate him," she had whispered to me. "Now, I just pity him."

"Really?" I'd whispered to her.

She'd nodded. "He was a pathetic creature." She'd suddenly shrugged. "It doesn't matter anyway. I've gotten my revenge on him."

"How so?" I'd asked, genuinely curious.

She'd smiled at me. "By going on. By meeting and marrying you. Sometimes surviving and living your life is the best revenge of all."

That, I decided, would be my revenge on Cyrus.

I found myself stepping up to the observatory and after circling its perimeter, found a door with a small plaque on it. "The Glen D. Riley Observatory."  It was unlocked and I carefully pushed it open to step inside.

The domed building was silent and dark and for several moments, I stood there. Opening my senses, I could hear the soft sound of rats scurrying about, but other than that, everything was eerily silent. Opening my eyes, I stepped forward and looked around.

Even in the sheer darkness, I could see the walls of the dome were lined with stairways leading up to several levels of catwalks that circled the perimeter of the observatory. Directly in the center was a raised circular platform where the telescope would have sat. Now, abandoned, it was empty and open, save for brass railings on either side and what appeared to be a small control panel on one edge.

There were two stairways on either side of the platform, leading up from the ground floor where I was standing to the telescope platform itself. I carefully, cautiously, stepped up the stairs to the platform. Moving over to the control panel, I could see there were two main controllers, covered in dust. One was marked "Platform." The other was marked "Dome." Beneath them were several dials that supposedly told which area of sky the telescope was pointed at.

Touching the controller marked "Platform," I was startled when the platform and the dome above began to rotate. Immediately, I touched it again, stopping the motion. Ah yes. That must control where the telescope was pointed. The one marked "Dome" probably opened the dome up, allowing the telescope its view of the night sky.

At that moment, alarm bells suddenly went off in my head. The sun would be rising soon. I glanced at my watch. 4:20.

Ten more minutes.

Stepping down from the platform, I looked around the ground floor area and spotted some old equipment piled up against a far wall. Amongst it sat a tired looking chair. I walked over, picked it up, tested it, then set it down and settled myself down to wait.

In over 400 years of living, I had spent a great deal of time waiting for one thing or another.

Ten minutes would be a piece of cake.


****

Scully

Somewhere


I was standing amid chaos. People were all around me, shouting and screaming, waving torches. I looked down, my body was not my own. My hands were small, the hands of a child. I had on simple clothes, a tattered vest and torn pants. My heart was pounding inside me, and everywhere I saw fear as people ran. There were men on horseback, racing through the street, trampling those who got in their way.

"Nosferatu!" screamed a woman, as she ran from the horseman.

I have to hide. I have to run. They are coming. Fear and more fear washed over me as I ran down the street of the village. The small, simple buildings were being set afire. Their flames cutting through the darkness of night. Flickering light by which to run.

But it was hard to run, my small feet were bare. The rocks and cobblestones cut into me as I ran. But I had to get away. I had to hide.

"The Ghosts!" screamed a man, shoving past me. "It is Osiris' Ghosts!"

The horseman rode closer, causing the crowd to scatter. A man knocked me down in the panic and I hit the ground behind a tavern. I laid there for a while, covering my face with my hands, hiding from the chaos around me.

Suddenly, I felt a hand on the back of my shirt. Pulling me to my feet harshly.

"Who do we have here?" the man said. He had long hair, pulled back in ponytail and a goatee. His clothes were that of a nobleman, with tall riding boots and a long velvet cloak. But I knew those eyes, blazing yellow fire back at me. "It is the songbird! I have caught the songbird."

I could hear my shirt ripping under my weight, and he lowered me.

"Peter my darling! Come here," he cried, holding me in place by the shoulders. He smiled at me, his teeth were long and sharp. His mouth, stained with blood. I screamed, only to have him silence me with a hand over my mouth.

"Shhh, my little one," he said, long fingernails scratching my cheek. "Save your voice for Peter."

I nodded, and he held me tighter in his grasp. I was so afraid, so afraid.

"Ah, Peter!" he said, gesturing to a man coming towards us. It was Peter Aylebourne, only dressed in a long frock coat and a high cravat. A long cape swirled around him. His hair was long, falling in thick curls as it framed his face. His eyes were also yellow.

And his mouth was also stained with blood.

"Cyrus," he said, wiping his lip with a handkerchief. "Who is this boy?"

"I believe this is Philip Burton, if I am not mistaking. You sing in the local church, do you not boy?" Cyrus said, leaning close to my ear. I could smell the blood in his mouth.

"Aye, sir," I said, in a tiny child's voice.

"Peter here loves music," Cyrus said, as his fingers wrapped gently around my throat. I stood perfectly still, afraid to move.

"He is just a boy," Peter said, as his eyes shifted back to blue. "Why not amuse yourself with the others?"

"Ah, but this is a boy who will sing for you!" Cyrus cried out. He grabbed me by the waist and set me on a wooden box that was there behind the tavern. Cyrus pointed to me, upon his makeshift stage. I could see the village burning as the men on horseback were ravaging the people. Screams of fear and panic and death filled the night.

My legs were shaking and my body grew cold with sweat. "What shall I sing for you, sir?"

"Any song you like," Cyrus said, wrapping an arm around Peter's shoulders. Holding him close. "Sing, child. Sing for Peter."

I stared at them, fearing my voice was paralyzing inside my throat. Cyrus waited, his lips curled back in a snarl. His tongue darted out, running them along the sharp points of his teeth.

I mustered all the courage I could, forcing a song from my lips. The only one I could think of.

"My life goes on in endless song above earth's lamentations. I hear the real, though far-off hymn that hails a new creation," I sang, voice wavering. "Through all the tumult and the strife I hear its music ringing, it sounds an echo in my soul. How can I keep from singing?"

Please God, don't let me die, I thought.

Peter's eyes stared at me. They grew soft and wide as I sang.

"While though the tempest loudly roars, I hear the truth, it liveth. And though the darkness 'round me close, songs in the night it giveth," I continued, as tears streamed down my face.

Cyrus was watching Peter watching me. Peter had a look of disgust on his face, disgust for what he was making me do. He broke away from Cyrus' grasp, coming closer to hear me sing.

"No storm can shake my inmost calm, while to that rock I'm clinging. Since love is Lord of heaven and earth how can I keep from singing?"

Perhaps he will spare my life, if he likes my song.

It was an old hymn. Of forgiveness and hope. Of creation. Of light dispelling the dark. The words hung in the darkness, sung by a voice that was mine, but not mine. The sweet, angelic voice of a child.

"When tyrants tremble in their fear and hear their death knell ringing, when friends rejoice both far and near how can I keep from singing?" I took a deep breath, watching Peter's face. Seeing the struggle within. His lips mouthed the words with me, silently singing along. My voice trembled through the final verse. "In prison cell and dungeon vile our thoughts to them are winging, when friends by shame are undefiled..."

Cyrus narrowed his eyes at Peter, anger was swelling inside. He cast a look at me, full and hatred and evil.

"...how can I keep from singing?" I finished, voice faltering.

Cyrus raised his hands and clapped, breaking the uneasy silence.

And for a second, I thought he might let me go.

"Not a good choice of song, my boy," he said, eyes full of fury. He sneered at me. "Not a good choice AT ALL!"

I jumped down from the box. I started to run, but Cyrus grabbed me, throwing my head back as I screamed in fear.

"This is what you are, Peter," he hissed, pulling a knife out from his cloak. "Don't you ever forget that."

Peter looked mortified as he watched Cyrus cut my throat as I screamed. Blood poured from me, spilling down my shirt. Over his arm. Everywhere. My life draining away.

"Don't forget your promise to me, Peter..." were the last words I heard.

****

I awoke, shaking all over. My face was wet. Wet from tears. I was still sobbing.

My eyes looked up, I was in a room. A large room with an dome. It was dark, except for the candles he was lighting all around. In a circle.

I rubbed my throat. I could still feel the blood pouring out of me. But I was not cut. I was not bleeding.

"So, now you know, dearest Jessica," he said, lighting the tall tapers. "The last time I saw Peter, what happened. Before he left me."

"You killed him," I whispered, almost afraid to speak. I was so shaken by the experience. I felt as if it had been me. My heart was racing in my body still. "You killed that boy."

"Yes, I did. Could you taste the boy's fear?" he said, smiling at me. "I could."

I felt weak and groggy. He must have drained me. I barely had the energy to lift my head and look at him. I was lying in the middle of the circle.

"What about Peter? How do you like your husband now? Quite different, wasn't he?" Cyrus continued. "He just stood there, watching me as I killed that boy. He didn't even try to stop me."

"He wanted to," I breathed, trying to sit up. Something about his eyes told me he did.

"Makes me wonder, will he stand there and watch when I kill you too?" Cyrus said, then he laughed. He lit the last candle, then blew out the match. "He always did love his music. Too bad you don't sing, Jessica. Or I would have you sing for him. Maybe I'll just cut off your fingers instead."

"Where are we?" I asked, pulling myself up more.

"We are waiting for Peter," he said, stepping inside the circle with me. "We are waiting for Peter."

"I'm here," called a voice in the darkness around me.

Cyrus rushed to me, kneeling on the ground beside me. He grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling it sharply so my face was looking up. I saw Peter walking towards us, emerging from the shadows. Stepping into the light of the candles.

"Say goodbye, Tigerlily," Cyrus whispered in my ear.

****

Jessie

Riley Observatory
4:30 a.m.


Snapping the cell phone shut, I handed it back to Agent Mulder.

"He says half an hour, but with morning traffic starting up, it'll probably be longer."

Agent Mulder nodded.

I turned away from him to open the door, allowing us to slip inside. But before I could touch the door handle, Agent Mulder's hand was on my arm. I turned back to him.

"Before we go in there," he said, his voice low and intense. "Let me warn you. Don't do anything foolish because you think your husband is in danger."

I frowned at him, remembering how he had been ready to run off on his own to get Agent Scully back. "Be sure to practice what you preach, Fox."

Turning back towards the door, I was reaching for the handle again when it seemed like a siren started to go off inside my head. I gasped, my hands raising up to clutch my head. I felt Agent Mulder take my arm.

"What is it?"

I shook my head until the sound faded. "We need to get inside. The sun will be rising soon."

He nodded as I reached for the handle again.

The air was cold as we stepped inside. Immediately, we heard voices. I had stopped to listen, but Agent Mulder gently guided me to a pool of shadows back near the curved wall of the building. From there we could watch and wait.

That was the hardest thing to do. Wait.

From where I was standing, I could see Agent Scully in the grasp of a sharp-faced man, holding her in front of him like a shield. I swallowed nervously and glanced at Agent Mulder. His eyes were wide, his mouth a tight line. Beyond that, his face betrayed no emotion.

I turned my gaze back up to the platform. I could tell Cyrus had been feeding off of Agent Scully. She looked pale and weak. It didn't look like she was weak enough to be turned, but I could tell she was close.

"I'm here, Cyrus." Peter's voice echoed out off of the curved walls as he slowly climbed the stairs to the platform. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

Cyrus took several slow steps back, keeping Agent Scully in front of him.

Peter blinked in pure surprise. "You're backing away from me, Cyrus?" he asked, his voice astonished. "My God, are you that afraid of me?"

An expression of pure fury crossed Cyrus' face, as if it enraged him to be told he was afraid. His voice was a low, fierce whisper. "I'm just making sure you know what's at stake here, Peter."

"I know exactly what's at stake here," he said quietly. "A woman's life." I could see his gaze turn to Agent Scully, looking into her eyes, searching for some kind of understanding. "I know what you did to her, showing her Philip Burton's death." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Believe me, that is a name that is burned into my soul." He paused, taking a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was clear, sure. "I couldn't save the life of that boy. But I know I can save her."

"In hope of what?!" snarled Cyrus. "Redemption?" He laughed, a hard, angry sound. His voice quickly returned to a snarl. "That child is DEAD! And you did nothing to stop it! Now your Tigerlily will soon follow! And I don't believe you have the guts to save her! So don't entertain any notion of redeeming yourself, Peter. You were damned long ago! Long before you met me!"

Peter's eyes locked with Agent Scully's again. "I made a promise that I would get her back."

"AND YOU MADE A PROMISE TO ME!" screamed Cyrus. He gave Agent Scully's hair a hard yank, causing her to cry out. Next to me, I felt Agent Mulder shuffle, as if preparing himself to spring. "THAT supercedes any promise you would make to this mortal INFANT!"

"Are you all right, my love?" he said quickly to Agent Scully, seeing her wincing.

"Yes," I heard her croak. "Yes, I'm all right, my darling."

Next to me, I felt a small bit of tension drain from Agent Mulder. She was playing the role. Good for her.

"How touching!" sneered Cyrus. "You've lost your fire, Peter. And it pains me to see it. But we can get it back. We can get you back to the way you were. All we have to do is eliminate everything that changed you." Agent Scully yelped as he yanked on her hair again, pulling her head back and exposing her throat. A moment later, a knife was pressed there. "Starting with her!"

I could feel Agent Mulder tensing up next to me, getting ready to lunge forward into the dim light. Instantly, my hand shot out, clamping down on his shoulder. He spun around to glare at me, his hazel eyes wide in the near-darkness.  What the hell are you doing?!

I gripped his shoulder tightly.  Not yet.

He turned away and tried to pull himself loose. I let my grip on his shoulder tighten until he was wincing. He turned back to me and I stared at him, my own eyes wide.  Not yet!

He stared at me a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. I carefully released my grip on his shoulder.

"No," I heard Peter say. "Not her."

"And what's to stop me?"

A rage of such intensity filled Peter's blue eyes; so intense it frightened me. "Because," he said, his voice just above a growl. "If you take her life, your life is forfeit. Kill her and I swear, you'll be dead before her body hits the floor. That's the only promise I will make to you that I know I will keep."

A small, cruel smile touched Cyrus' lips. "Well, well, well. It seems some of the fire in you is still smoldering." He pressed the knife a bit closer to Agent Scully's throat. "What would you do, Peter? How far would you go to save your Tigerlily?"

Peter's eyes shifted from Cyrus to Agent Scully and back again. Then he did the last thing I ever expected.

He got down on his knees.

A stunned expression crossed Cyrus' face; only to be replaced by an expression of pure disgust mere seconds later.

"Get up," he hissed. "Get up, you pathetic, old man."

"Not until you give me her life," Peter answered softly. "Give me her life and I will give you mine."

This time, it was Agent Scully's eyes that widened. "Peter-," she managed to squeak out.

"Shhh, my love," he said gently to her. "Everything will be all right."

"Are you certain of that?" growled Cyrus, his fingers tightening on the knife and her hair. A sick, sadistic smile crossed his face. "Are you absolutely certain of that?"

The silence that fell over the observatory made a sound all its own.

****

Continued in Chapter Eight