Title: Achilles' Heel (1/?) 
Author: fran58 
Email: fran58@wonderhorse.net
http://www.wonderhorse.net or
http://www.wonderhorse.net/authorspgs/fran58/fran58.htm
Category: Story, Angst, Case File-ish
Rating: PG-13
Feedback:  Of course <g>
Distribution: Wherever - just let me know.
Spoilers: Up through Tithonus
Disclaimer: Characters owned by Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen
Productions and 20th Century Fox. 
Summary: Mulder is drawn into a group that claims to want to
cast light on alien abductions.

Author's Note: Thanks to addicted2fanfic, who has put up with
me for longer than I care to think.  And too MaybeAmanda for
cracking the whip..


Achilles' Heel

"Mulder, have you seen this?"  Scully held up a slim newspaper. 
"Is this something you got from the Gunmen?"

"No."

"This article details the events experienced by a woman named
Josephine Sartini.  It suggests that she was at Ruskin Dam."

"I know, Scully, I read it." Mulder's words were clipped.  He
impatiently pushed back a pile of  papers covering his desk and
reached for a file.  "I read it cover to cover."

"Where did you get it?"

"Came in the mail."

"Did you see where it mentions Wendell Fong as one of the
searchers who found Josephine Sartini?"

"Yes, yes I did.  He's the guy that brings the mail."  Mulder rose
from his desk and poured another coffee, the third one of the
morning, dosing it generously with cream and sugar.  He drew
the cup too quickly to his lips sloshing some of  the hot liquid
onto his lap.  Swearing loudly, he dumped the ceramic mug
and its remains into the trash can next to his desk.  It shattered
as it hit bottom.

Scully looked up quickly.  Mulder had been like dry tinder
the last few weeks, catching fire at the least bit of spark.
She had noticed the sallowness of her partner's skin, the
dampness on his forehead, but, unwilling to start the
inevitable argument, had refrained from pestering him about
his health. 

Now, she gritted her teeth.  She had been more than patient,
but couldn't seem to get on track with Mulder no matter how
hard she tried.  She thought things had gotten back to normal--
normal for them, at least.  They were back on the X-Files. 
Cases were flowing in and out of her in-basket with regularity. 
Arthur Dales had even written a letter of commendation to
the Bureau after what she thought of as their 'sea monster'
experience in Florida.  It was a nice pat on the back for them. 
They were not used to positive recognition from higher up.

Mulder looked up at her.  "Ritter get anything done last night?"

Scully nodded.  "As far as I know, he finished what you
assigned to him."  She leaned forward a bit.  "Mulder, you need
to ease up on him.  He's working hard."  She dropped her gaze
and flicked a speck off the lapel of her jacket.  "He's trying to...
right a wrong."

"Assuaging his guilty conscience is more like it," Mulder
muttered.

"It's more than that.  He's looking for answers."

Mulder dismissed that idea with a shrug.

Scully knew it was more than just guilt on Ritter's part. His
ordered, even-keeled world had been tipped and skewed, much
like hers had been since she joined the X-Files. As much as he
may have been seeking penance, he also sought to right his
world.

Ritter had come to see her in the hospital twice as often
as anyone else.  He sat by her bed, eyes wide and staring. He
brought her flowers and magazines, newspapers and balloons.

He stood next to her at the funeral. The day was wet and misty,
but not raining. There were few mourners. Scully and Ritter
stood off to the side, away from the rest of the group.

Afterward, he took her for coffee. He told her about the thing he
had seen, the presence that had fluttered around her fallen body,
touching her face with long, black wisps before moving to where
Alfred Fellig lay. Ritter had been on his knees in front of her, his
arms soaked in blood as he pressed his hands against the gunshot
wound.

He explained the thing had touched him, too.  Just for a
moment. He said its touch was unlike anything he had ever
known. It left him feeling desolate and looking for answers

She wondered how she could explain it all to Mulder.

Scully watched as Mulder bent over a file on his desk, brow
furrowed, movements jerky.  His mouth was set in a tense
line.  His shoulders were rigid.  She couldn't recall the last
time she had seen him smile or even attempt a joke.

His behavior had been strange enough lately that Scully had
considered checking the water source in his building, as she had
so many years ago, for evidence of tampering.

Sighing slightly, she reined in her frustration.  "Listen, Mulder, I
did a little digging into Sartini.  She's a second generation
abuctee.  Turns out she's Max Fenig's daughter. "

That got his attention.

~~~~~~~~~~

Mulder had left early for lunch.  Scully had stayed behind to
take advantage of the quiet, Mulder-less office to tackle some
reports.  She rolled the pen she had been holding across the table
in front of her.  It made a clicking hum as it rolled back towards
her.  When the pen reached the end of the desk, she flicked it with
her finger.  It skittered backward then rolled towards her again.

So much for diving into the paperwork.

There was a sound at the door, and Scully snatched the pen up. 
She stood and turned toward the sound.  

A dark head appeared through the half-open door.  "I... I'm
Wendell Fong.  Someone upstairs said you wanted to
see me."

Scully raised her eyebrows.  "Yes, we do.  At the moment, my
partner is at lunch.  Maybe you could come back around two?"

The young man nodded.  "Yeah, okay.  I can do that."

An hour an a half later, Wendell was fidgeting in the chair
Mulder had pulled out for him.  The chair was metal frame,
without much in the way of padding.  Fortunately, Mulder
noted, Wendell had plenty of his own.

Mulder leaned over the desk.  "Wen, that's what they call you,
right?  Would you like some coffee or something?"
                    
Wendell nodded. 

"Cream?  Sugar?"

"No, no sugar." Wendell glanced nervously at Mulder, his
voice a bit too loud.  Mulder looked at him sharply.  "I'm
nervous.  Sorry.  No cream either, thanks."

Mulder poured the coffee and handed Wen a chipped blue
cup.  "What can you tell me about Josephine Sartini?"

Wen shifted his eyes apprehensively from Mulder to Scully.

"Wendell?" Mulder's voice was soft.  "There's no need to be
nervous, no one is going to ridicule you here, are we
Scully?"  he glanced at her pointedly.

Scully looked at Wendell.  "Its okay, Wendell.  We've
heard a lot of strange things."

Wendell nodded, relaxing slightly.  "Yeah, I've heard."  He
shifted again in his chair.  "I don't know much, really.  Just that
a few years back she disappeared for a while.  When she
came back, she was full of crazy stories.  I don't know her that
well. She's the cousin of a friend of mine -- Marshall De
Young."  

"But you did help search for her that last time she went
missing, correct?"  asked Scully.

Wendell nodded again.  "We found her near, ah, Ruskin
Dam?  It's about..."

Mulder interrupted him.  "We know where it is.  How did you
know to look for her there?"

"I don't know.  Marsh might, though.  I figured someone
spotted her, and that's why we were there."

"Do you know anything about Max Fenig?"

Wen nodded.  "Marsh has mentioned him.  He's Jo's father.  I
don't think she saw him much.  I guess her mom thought he was
too... unstable."

The questions went on.  Wendell loosened up, and Mulder got
more details out of him.  By the end of the interview, Mulder
had Josephine Sartini's address, and a pamphlet on an
organization Wen belonged to called New Light.

~~~~~~~~~

Mulder slammed the door shut, making Scully jump. 
Irritation ate at him.  A monstrous headache was threatening
and the office seemed too bright.  He strode to the half-
window near the ceiling and yanked down the shade.  He glanced
at Scully, who was frowning at him.  For a moment, he
envied her control.  The composed way she stood in front of
him.  The suit she was wearing was a deep blue.  In theory,
he liked it.  Usually, he found the color calming.  Usually, he
found Scully herself calming; but lately, she, like everything else,
was chafing.

"Thanks for deciding to come back to work today."  The words
came out more sharply than he intended.

Stifling a sigh, Scully answered, "Peyton and I were having
lunch, Mulder.  It took a bit longer than I expected."

"Peyton, huh?"

"I know that you're allergic to first names, especially when it
involves me, but that's how the rest of the world operates."

"So what exciting things did the Boy Blunder have to say?"

Scully shrugged.  "Nothing important.  Not unless you
consider a mildly entertaining story about his trip to Idaho for
Easter at his Aunt Susan's noteworthy."

Mulder grunted and moved to his desk.  "Couldn't be
bothered to ask me?"

"You're going to Idaho for Easter?" Scully asked attempting
to lighten his mood.
                       
"To lunch," Mulder said tersely.

Scully stared at him.  "Mulder, I *did* ask if you wanted
lunch.  You declined.  I'm sorry lunch took longer than usual,
but, Peyton had just gotten back from that wild goose chase
you sent him on and wanted to vent.  Frankly, I don't blame
him."

Mulder merely grunted again, located his glasses and flipped
through the pile of papers littering his desk.  "He's the one
that wants to experience life as an X-Files agent.  It's part of
the job."

"Having him check the property records of decades old
abduction cases simply because you want him out of the
way is not part of the job."

"Yeah, whatever."  Mulder dropped heavily to his desk chair. 
He pushed his glasses up and pinched the bridge of his nose,
grimacing.  

Scully frowned and moved toward him.  "Are you feeling all
right?  You've been so on edge lately, maybe you should take a
break, go home early."  Her tone was soft and tinged with
concern.

"Maybe I should, but I've got a lot of work to do here.  Coffee
will help.  It's probably just a caffeine withdrawal headache."

"You're kidding, right?  Caffeine withdrawal?  Mulder, you've
been living on nothing but coffee lately."

"My appetite's been off."

"Maybe you should see your doctor?"

He gave a short laugh.  The first she had heard in weeks. 
"You're my doctor, Scully.  I see you all the time."

"And I think you should slow down.  I can make an
appointment for you to have a complete physical.  We've got
time.  We've got the X-Files back.  They aren't going
anywhere."

"Oh yeah?  Then why is Ritter here?"

"Mulder, I honestly think Peyton is here for the reason he
says he is.  He's interested in the work.  He wanted an
opportunity to explore areas outside his own expertise."
								
"Well, you oughta know, Scully.  You spend enough time
with him."

"Only because you won't," she said.  "Mulder, he really isn't
that bad.  He's a good agent for the most part.  Thorough,
careful about the details and pretty good company if you'd
give him a chance."  Her voice ended in a hopeful upswing.

"Yeah, well, like I said.  You oughta know."  He scraped his
chair back, snatched at his mug, and, ignoring her troubled
look, went to the coffee maker.

~~~~~~~~~~          

The forensics lab was cold, as usual.  Mulder found Scully
there, with her head bent close to a dark haired lab tech who
was explaining something to her.

"I tried MitoSearch, but came up with nothing," the young man
shrugged.  "But, we have that chemical analysis, and maybe if
we-- "

"What's MitoSearch?"  Mulder broke in.

"It's a software program.  Basically, it searches a database of 
complete nucleotide sequences of the first and second
hypervariable segments of the control region of the human
mitochondrial genome," the tech turned toward Mulder. 
"MitoSearch estimates the relative frequency of specific
sequences... "

Mulder waved his hand.  "Okay.  Got it.  Or rather, I don't. 
And that's fine," he smiled.  "That's what Scully is here is for," he
reached out and gave her a light punch on the shoulder.

She raised her eyebrows.  "Feeling better, Mulder?"

"Are you almost finished here?  We've got a date with the Big
Man upstairs.  He called after you left."

"Ah, yeah.  I'll be done in a few minutes," Scully gave him a
tight smile.  "I'll meet you up there, okay?"

~~~~~~~~~~

The knock was not wholly unexpected.  That afternoon's
meeting with Skinner had been nearly disastrous.  Nearly. 
Mulder had managed to keep his comments about Ritter
merely scornful, not venomous.  

Scully flicked the television off and reluctantly went to answer
the demanding rapping.  A quick peek into the peep hole and
she opened the door for Mulder.

He grinned widely at her as he stepped into the apartment. 
One arm snaked from behind his back and presented her with
a array of flowers.

"Flowers, Mulder?  Lilies?"

"Yeah, I swiped them off a dead guy on the way in."

Scully poked through the stems and pulled out the small white
card.  "Oh, look.  The dead guy's name was Scully, too.  What
a coincidence."

"Lucky for me," Mulder said.

"They're lovely, Mulder.  I hesitate to ask what the occasion is,
though."  Scully walked to the kitchen, lay the bouquet on the
counter, and knelt to rummage in a low cupboard.  She
withdrew a wide-mouthed vase and filled it with water.

Mulder leaned against her table.  "No particular occasion. 
Can't a guy bring a girl flowers?"

Scully eyed him.  "Well, you may be a guy, but I'm no girl. 
What gives, Mulder?"

Mulder hitched one shoulder.  "Things have been... not so
smooth between us lately, have they?"

"We've been through rough patches before," she said
carefully.  "How is this different?"

Mulder shook his head.  "Can't say, exactly.  Just feels
different.  Maybe it's the third wheel we've picked up."

Scully turned to face him.  "You have to give him a chance,
Mulder.  A *real* chance.  I've gotten to know him fairly well -

Mulder grunted.  "I've noticed."			

Scully continued, ignoring Mulder's expression.  "He's trying. 
And, he's capable of doing good work.  I've seen that.  You
would too, if you let yourself."

"You're a paragon of virtue, Agent Scully."

"Hardly.  I've just managed to forgive him," Scully drew closer
to Mulder and peered into his face.  He didn't seem as tense
as he had earlier, but there were dark circles under his eyes,
and his skin was more pale than usual.  "How're you feeling? 
I wish you'd let me make an appointment for you.  I know
several good doctors..."

Mulder waved a hand.  "I'll think about it, okay?  At the
moment, I think a bowl of ice cream would make me feel
better.  Offer me some?"

"What makes you think I have ice cream?"

Mulder smirked.  "You always have ice cream."

~~~~~~~~~~          

Scully closed the door behind Mulder.  If a jigsaw was a puzzle,
then Mulder was an enigma.

She picked up the bowls and spoons they had used and
walked to the sink.  Tonight, she thought, had been nice.  A
reprieve.

Scully turned the tap, letting warm water fill the bowls, squirted
some dish soap into the water and quickly washed and set the
bowls on the drain board to dry.  She twisted around to dry her
hands and her side cramped painfully.  She lifted her left hand
and pressed down.  She could feel the scar, still angry and red,
through the layer of clothing that covered it.

Scully breathed slowly, deeply, in and out.  When the pain had
dissipated somewhat, she walked carefully to the bedroom,
holding her side.


~~~~~~~~~~          

Petyon Ritter was worthless, Mulder thought, despite what
Skinner or Scully said.  He couldn't even get the
necessary basic information on an interview subject.  His
notes on Josephine Sartini stated that she was evasive.  Ritter
had completely misread her.

Mulder glanced at the figure seated in the chair on the other side
of his desk. He had, thus far,  found her to be intelligent, fairly
concise, and cooperative.

"I want to continue talking about your time on the bridge itself." 
Mulder kept his voice deliberately soft.

The girl shrugged and peered at him through her dark bangs. 
Her slightly angular face was pale in the basement light.  "A lot of
it isn't too clear.  I remember the dam, and a bright light.  I
remember something about fire... men with torches or
something..."  Here her words trailed off and she shuddered
slightly.
          
Mulder nodded.  "And this was the second time you were...
called?"

"Yes.  I was taken the first time.  This would have been the
second if... well, if whatever had happened," she said with a
shrug.

"What about your father?" asked Mulder.

Jo grimaced.  "I don't know much, except that he said he was
taken several times."

"He never talked to you about it?  What about after your first
abduction?"

She dropped her eyes.  "He was dead by then."

Mulder chewed the inside of his cheek.  "I see."  He leaned
forward a bit.  "How do you feel about the abductions?  Both
yours and his?"

Jo fidgeted.  "I don't know.  My mom was freaked out by the
whole thing.  I didn't talk about it much.  But... when I was
little, way before I was taken, I used to have these dreams about
my dad.  They would come right before..."

"Before one of his abductions?" Mulder asked.

Jo nodded.

"Ms. Sartini, is there anything else you can tell us about your
time at Ruskin Dam?"  Scully spoke for the first time.

"I don't know.  What do you mean?"

"Well, what happened when you saw the bright light? 
Anything unusual?"

Jo Sartini fingered the hem of her fitted shirt and ran a hand
over her jean-clad thigh.  "I don't know.  I don't remember any
more than I already told you."

"It's all right.  We understand that this is difficult for you," 
Mulder reached over the desk and squeezed the girl's hand. 
"We appreciate that you came down to talk to us at all."

"Before you go, can you explain to us exactly what your
group, New Light, does?" Scully asked.

"We, well, some of us have experienced abductions, like me. 
And others are just interested.  We are trying to get the word
out.  About what happened to people like me."   She looked at
Scully.  
"The ones who have the mark.  Eventually, we would like to get
into researching events like the one at Ruskin Dam."

Scully nodded, seemingly nonplused.  "Okay.  I think that's
all for now.  Thank you for stopping by."

Jo gave them an awkward half nod and made for the door. 

Scully watched her exit.  "I don't know, Mulder, her story
seemed too sketchy."          

"You're basing that on Ritter's report."

"No," Scully said deliberately.  "I'm basing it on her interview.  I
haven't even read his report yet."

"Well, you weren't exactly a wealth of information yourself
after Ruskin Dam, Scully."

"True.  But the difference was I didn't remember anything until
the hypnosis.  Jo claims to remember some details, but there
are others that are missing."

"Everyone's brain works differently, you know that," said
Mulder shortly.  "And she has the mark on her neck."

"That she does.  Her x-rays came back, by the way."

"And?"

"And there is definitely something there, but it appears
markedly different from the chip that's in my neck."

"And that means exactly what, Scully?"

Scully cocked her head slightly.  "It means what it means.   That
there is something in her neck, but that whatever it is, it  doesn't
look the same as mine.  I can't tell you much more than that
without actually extracting the object itself."

Mulder grunted.  "What about her being a second generation
abductee?"

"It may be worth looking into.  I'm not saying that there isn't
anything at all to take a look at here.  I just think her Ruskin
Dam story is..."

"...sketchy." Mulder finished for her.

"Yeah.  Look, I've got some stuff to check in the lab," Scully
said, gathering a sheaf of papers from the table.  "I should be
back in an hour or so."

"Yeah.  Okay.  I'll be here."  Mulder watched her leave.  Another
day, another headache.  His stomach rumbled, but he really
didn't feel hungry.  He supposed he should eat anyway.  As he
was contemplating making a run to the vending machines, their
interview subject returned.

"I... I left my purse here.  Sorry to interrupt."  She hovered in
the door looking uncertain.

Mulder spotted the purse on the floor, half obscured by his
desk.  He picked it up.  "This must be it."

"Thanks."  Jo hesitated.  "I'd like to ask you something if you
have time."

"Sure.  What is it?"

"We... our group, New Light.  We were wondering if you
would come and talk with us?"

Mulder blinked, surprised.  "Talk with you?  About what?"

"Well, your experiences.  The kind of things you do to
decide whether or not a situation is authentic... stuff like
that.  It would mean a lot to us."

"I'm not sure if I'll be of much help to you," Mulder said slowly  

Jo looked up at him with wide eyes.  "Just your coming to
meet with us would help.  We really need someone to give
us a shot in the arm.  A mentor.  You've got the experience
and the interest.  People know who you are.  We'd have
more credibility if you were involved."

Mulder held up one hand.  "Slow down.  Let's start
just with meeting.  We'll see what happens and take it from
there."                  

"That would be great!  Thanks so much," Jo smiled, suddenly
alive and lovely.  "I really appreciate it."

~~~~~~~~~~

Mulder scrubbed his hand over his head, making his hair
stand on end.  Jo smiled at him, and he self-consciously
patted it back down.  He was starting to drag.  Earlier, he
had been up for this meeting, but now, it was late and their
cause seemed less than promising.  The air in the cheap diner
felt heavy and greasy.  The overhead fluorescents glared and
Mulder thought they had an uneasy bee-like hum.

"I think part of the problem here is that you're thinking too
big.  You're too unfocused."  Mulder held up a hand before
anyone could protest.  "I'm not saying thinking big is bad, but
you need to take it in small steps."

"But we really want to get into it, make a difference," said
Marsh.

"Right.  I understand that.  Believe me.  But you don't have the
resources, facilities or know-how to do that right now," said
Mulder.

Marsh who had been leaning earnestly across the table toward
Mulder, now slumped back against the worn booth, defeated.

Mulder studied him.  Jo had fondly introduced the bright-eyed
young man as the 'founder of New Light'.  The cousins were
remarkably alike in both appearance and mannerisms,  though
Marsh was fair where Jo was dark.

"So what you're saying is we should just throw in the towel?"
asked Wen.

"No, not at all.  What I'm saying is that you have to take
things slow and not expect too much right away.  You have
an idea of what you want to accomplish, and that's good. 
You should look to those things as long term goals and
concentrate on obtaining some shorter term goals that you
can make happen in the more immediate future."  Mulder's
head was beginning to hurt.  He wanted to wrap this up and
get home, but there were three pairs of eyes on him asking for
help.

"All right.  Let's do this.  You get a plan together.  Write
down three feasible goals that you could accomplish within
the next six to nine months.  Do the same thing for the next
six to nine months after that.  Don't go out any farther at this
point.  We'll meet again and take a look at what you've got."

Marsh chewed his upper lip.  "Okay.  We can handle that.  It
means a lot that you're willing to help us with this, Agent
Mulder."

Mulder gave them a tight, tired smile.  "Mulder.  Just
Mulder."

~~~~~~~~~~

"So, Mulder, how's the new club shaping up?"  Scully leaned
her elbows on the iron lattice work table top.  The late
autumn sun danced over the Mississippi and cast oblong
shadows across her face. 

"We aren't the Mouseketeers, Scully."  He quirked a smile at
her.  Four days exploring the intricacies of phantoms in corn
silos in Coon Valley, Wisconsin, had done them both some
good.  Ritter had not been able to join them.  They sat now on
the terrace of a small cafe, at a table looking out over the
Mississippi, some 30 miles away from the last 'haunted' silo 
they had seen.
	
"Oh, but it is *we* now, is it?" she smiled at him.

"Yeah, I guess.  To a point."

"But?"

"But -- but I just don't know where this is all going.  I let myself
get sucked in without really thinking what might be involved."

"So, un-suck yourself."

"Such language, Ms. Scully!  I'm shocked!"

"I find that unlikely," said Scully, lobbing a torn corner of
dinner roll at him.  He batted it away and Scully looked at him,
lips pursed.  "Seriously, Mulder, if you're feeling
uncomfortable, you should probably watch your step.  Have you
had the Gunmen check these guys out at all?"

Mulder rolled his head back.  "Yeah, Byers did a bit of checking
on the organization for me.  No big red flags popped up.  Not
much popped up at all."

Scully bit her lip.  "I know you aren't going to be happy about
this, but, I did some digging on my own."

Mulder raised his eyebrows.

Scully went on.  "Marsh had fraud charges brought against him
about a year ago.  It seems Marsh took part in a swindle
involving a shady internet provider, FastLink. FastLink
promised good rates and reliable service. The scam was simple
in its conception. Sign up subscribers, provide them access for a
few weeks, then disappear and change the company's name.
FastLink was just the most recent of several names the company
had used."

Mulder shrugged and tossed his napkin on his plate.  "I know
about that.  The charges didn't stick, and Marsh says it was a
mistake.  He didn't know the company was on the take.  Jo has a
clean record, so does Wen.  Byers did his thing, Scully.  It works
for me."  He pushed away from the table.

Scully watched Mulder as he strode away.  It had occurred to
her that the three New Light members might have juvenile
records.  She would need help if she wanted access to them.

It was time she called the Gunmen herself.

End One