BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE By Kate Dyer Athena1600@aol.com CATEGORY: X; A,R RATING: PG SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully investigate an X-File dealing with ghosts and 'broken hearts'. SPOILER WARNING: None KEYWORDS: UST DISCLAIMER: The characters of Mulder and Scully are not mine, though all other characters are original and come from my mind, and I wish their names not to be used without permission. ARCHIVE: Yes, though please inform me of any archiving please. FEEDBACK: Please WRITTEN: February 1, 1999 POSTED: March DEDICATION: To my wonderful and very helpful beta reader Lena. Thanks for all the help! BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE By Kate Dyer Athena1600@aol.com ---------------------------------------- Tuesday Wilderness, Virginia ---------------------------------------- A cry for help broke the silence in the sleepy inn. The calls for aid echoed through the halls and bounced off of the high ceilings. Hearing the calls, an occupant of the inn traced their origin to a room near his. Upon looking in, he saw a man leaning over a body. The man looked at him with wild eyes and quakingly said, "She…was just standing here. She was all right a second ago. Then she fell. Get an ambulance! She has not pulse! Dear God, don't let her go. Don't let her go!" The observer ran off to use the telephone while the man tried hopelessly to give his breath to the woman he loved. As the paramedics pulled up, a single shot reverberated through the walls, shaking the foundation of the old home. And when the paramedics entered the room they found, not one, but two bodies. ---------------------------------------- Tuesday, October One Week Later Wilderness, Virginia ---------------------------------------- Golden yellow branches threw dappled shadows upon the cars that traveled along the dirt road, stirring up clouds of dust that marked their presence. The dust floated back down to the earth and formed a gossamer veil upon the dirt road. A fragment of green glinted from among the sea of brilliant foliage as a Ford Taurus sped by, upsetting the veil of dust, moving on to its destination. Mulder cut the ignition to the rental car and glanced at the huge Civil War era mansion that lay before him. "This the place?" he asked Scully, who sat low in the seat beside him. The large brick home loomed in front of them. The main section of the house was three stories tall, with one-storied wings jutting out from either side. All the windows were trimmed in white, with dark shudders. The setting sun reflected colors of crimson and orange off of the glass. Dormer windows protruded from the roof. Wide steps led down from the white double doors to a gravel path, which winded throughout the property. Surrounding the land was an old, wooden fence made of aged timbers that were interwoven with one another. "This is where Mrs. Harper, the owner, said it would be." Scully replied, opening her door and stepping into the crisp air. She brushed herself off and stretched before running to catch up with Mulder, who was already at the door. The door was opened by a short woman in her mid sixties. Her hair was white, though it still contained strands of brown and gold. She wore no makeup, and was dressed in jeans and a shirt, but even her presence made her seem elegant. "You two must be the FBI agents." She greeted them, stretching out her hand and individually shaking theirs. "Hello. I am Agent Scully and this is Agent Mulder." "Well, I'm Fay Harper. I'm the owner of the Wilderness Inn. Oh, please come in." She gestured with her hand and shut the door behind them. The inside of the home was as impressive as the outside. Spacious rooms were joined by open door ways. The furniture set a mood of age and comfort. The high ceilings stretched above their heads, and stairways wound up to the other floors. "You know, I didn't think y'all would actually come. The police said that they would be calling in the FBI, since there could be the possibility of a serial killer, but I didn't think you would really show up." "Well, Mrs. Harper, here we are. We were wondering if we could get a couple rooms while working on this case." Mulder said. "If you have any left." Fay Harper laughed sadly. "Actually, there will be plenty of rooms tonight. I haven't been getting that much business since the deaths. That and the rumors of the ghosts." Scully raised her eyebrow and frowned at Mulder. "Ghosts?" she asked suspiciously. "All in due time, Scully, lets get our stuff." Mulder replied, leading Scully out to the car. As soon as they were out of the house, Scully asked, "What does this have to do with ghosts, Mulder? I was actually thinking that we might have a normal case for once." "Well, the victims were plagued by spirits come back from the great beyond." Mulder replied with a smile. "Mulder, I would expect you to respect me, and that includes briefing me of our cases. Fully. Did you think that the only way to get me down here was to lie to me about our case?" Scully asked, stopping in front of the car and folding her arms. "I didn't lie to you, Scully, I just…" Mulder began, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. "Omitted a few details?" Scully asked. "Well, you aren't the most accepting person I know." Mulder replied. "I mean, if I had told you about the ghosts, would you have ever come along on this case?" "Of course I would, Mulder, we're partners after all." Scully admitted. "But I am going to prove you wrong." Scully remarked stubbornly, turning back to the car as Mulder laughed. After carrying their bags up to the second floor of the inn, Mulder and Scully entered their own rooms. As Scully unpacked her two large bags, she admired the view from the two large windows in her room, through which scarlet light flowed abundantly. The setting sun threw darkened shadows upon the walls, covered with a faded periwinkle wallpaper, and beneath the large queen sized bed, covered with an ivory white comforter containing stitching so small and delicate that they were almost invisible to the naked eye. The last rays of light reflected off of the oval mirror, which lay atop the immense, mahogany dresser onto a row of pictures, which hung upon one wall of the room. Each frame contained a very old, brown and white photograph, which depicted children and women in stiff, formal positions, looking off into space, with blank eyes and dreary features. On the other hand, Mulder hadn't even bothered to unpack, throwing his suit bag and small duffel bag on an oak, straight-back chair. He pulled closed the forest green curtains, though no light shined through, all the shafts of light having already disappeared from the eastern side of the house. This having been done, he kicked off his shoes before collapsing into the oversized oak bed and taking out the latest Magic Bullet, published by the Lone Gunmen. As the room grew dim, he switched on an old storm lamp, facilitated for electricity, and continued reading on into the night. ---------------------------------------- Wednesday Wilderness Inn Wilderness, Virginia ---------------------------------------- Scully was already up and dressed when Mulder came into the large dining room the next morning. Putting down the piece of toast she had been eating, she smiled at him and greeted him with a 'good morning' as he slumped into the chair across from her at the long, hard wood table. Silver utensils framed every place setting, and a linen tablecloth lay beneath them. "You look like you had a rough night." Scully observed. "Couldn't get to sleep?" "Actually, I had no trouble falling asleep, which was weird. But then I had this really strange dream." Scully encouraged him to continue. "Well, it was really fuzzy. All I can remember is that I was in a field and someone was coming toward me. For some reason I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep." "Well, I hope you got enough sleep. We have a big day ahead of us. I'm going to drive over to the morgue to autopsy the latest victim and to get the files for the other two." Mulder sipped at a glass of orange juice before speaking. "I'll talk to the police chief about the deaths. I wish they had sent up the files so we knew more about what was going on. Three people dead in as many weeks. The latest victim was actually with the local police investigating the earlier deaths." "Okay, I'm off. Take a nap or something, you don't look so good." Scully said as she left the room. "Thanks mom!" Mulder remarked jokingly. ---------------------------------------- Wednesday Wilderness Morgue Wilderness, Virginia ---------------------------------------- The drive to the morgue had been very lovely, old trees lined the road, green pastures stretched out into the horizon, and fences peeked from behind the trees. Even the morgue seemed to have a feeling of antiquity and age. Scully parked outside and entered the stone building. All antiquity was lost inside. The Wilderness morgue was like any other morgue across the country. Stainless steel blinded her eyes; greenish tiles lay beneath her feet. Silence welcomed her as she was greeted by a gust of chilled air, bearing upon it the smell of dead bodies, formaldehyde, and that of other assorted chemicals. Her shoes echoed throughout the hall as she walked toward the front desk. Showing her ID to the lead coroner, she was led to the refrigerator, which housed all those waiting to be inspected. "All six of 'um are right here." The young man said nonchalantly and began to walk off. "Wait." Scully said, confused. "Six? I was told there were only three." "Three deaths, three suicides resulting from the deaths." "Could you get me the files from their deaths? I'll just autopsy the latest death, and wait until another time to autopsy the suicides." Scully muttered. The young man walked away and Scully entered the women's locker room. She dressed in scrubs, a gown, latex gloves, shoe coverings, and a face shield. A woman entered the locker room and introduced herself as Victoria Donelson. She stood tall compared to Scully, though only five foot six. Long brown hair was gathered atop her head in a disorderly bun, strands of hair poking out rebelliously. She was dressed from head to foot in medical scrubs, and wore no makeup save a pale shade of lipstick. "I'll be acting as your assistant on the autopsy. I'm training to be a forensic pathologist, so I help with a lot of the autopsies." She said, extending her hand. They shook hands and walked back to the refrigerator again. Victoria wheeled the body out of the cooler and into the middle of the empty autopsy room where she stationed it and gathered tools and cutting utensils. Victoria measured and weighed the body and checked the nametag. Scully entered and flicked on the overhead light, checked the tape recorder, and pulled back the sheet from the body. Scully first checked for any external abnormalities. Seeing none, she began to open the chest cavity with a Y-incision. After doing so, she removed the rib cage by using a bone cutter. She began removing organs as Victoria opened the skull. Scully weighed each organ, recorded the results, and began to dissect each organ. Three hours later, they finished sewing up the incisions in the body. "I didn't find anything unusual. What is the cause of death?" Victoria asked Scully. Scully was silent for a minute before admitting that she didn't know. "Everything is normal. We'll have to wait until the tox-screen comes back, but I'm afraid that it will not provide an answer. The only thing abnormal is the heart." She led Victoria to the table where it sat. "Do you see this tearing of the tissue in this area?" She asked, handing Victoria a magnifying glass. "Yes. What could it be?" "I don't know. I've never seen anything like it. It's as if…this is going to sound strange, but it's as if her heart were being torn in half. As if it were breaking." ---------------------------------------- Wednesday Wilderness Inn Wilderness, Virginia ---------------------------------------- "Her name is Brenda Pulaski. White female, around thirty years of age. No apparent cause of death." Scully said, as she tossed Mulder the autopsy report. "I thought that you'd be gone longer." Mulder remarked. "Well, I have some news. There are six victims, not three. Three deaths, three suicides, each coinciding with each other." Scully remarked. "I know, I was surprised when Chief of Police Brices told me he had lost two officers." Mulder replied. "Ms. Pulaski was a junior officer, sent to investigate the former four deaths. Jack Grant was the suicide victim. From what they've gathered, the local police believe that something happened to Brenda, as the man that had called the paramedics remarked, Grant had said, "She was standing there, then she fell". So she faints or falls or something. Grant attempts to give her CPR, stops, upholsters her gun, and takes his own life, all the while muttering 'now I can't tell her, now it's too late'." "Did you interview any of her family?" Scully questioned. "Yes, actually. Her sister Sarah McCulloch told me something very interesting." Mulder answered. "And what would that be?" "Ms. Pulaski and Mr. Grant were actually romantically involved, unbeknownst to anyone, except her sister, of course." He answered. "Well, that explains the suicide. And where do the ghosts come in?" Scully asked mockingly. "You're gonna love this Scully, Pulaski was worried about Grant and had written in her diary that a few days earlier he had told her of a young woman he kept seeing. Pulaski said that he thought she looked 'very out of place'." "Ah. And you think this girl is a ghost." Mulder nodded vigorously. "Did you ever think that maybe it was the killer? She could have been stalking him." Scully rationalized. "But he wasn't the one killed." Mulder pointed out. "But he did die." "No one else has mentioned this young woman. And as far as we know, she had no contact with the victims." Mulder said. "We've seen things like that before. Remember Robert Modell and his sister?" "So you think maybe he was pushed to kill himself?" "Well, I don't know, but it's a better theory than your ghost story. The pathologist who performed the autopsies on the first two unexplained deaths, Catherine Lee, is meeting with me in town. I'll tell you what I find when I get back." Mulder watching Scully leave from of one of the large windows in the front of the house. What he hadn't told Scully was that after he met with Chief Brices, he had taken her advice and took a short nap. Shortly after falling asleep, another dream began to plague him. It was the same as the last, yet it was more vivid. He could make out his surroundings better. He had found himself in a large field, the grass trampled and dying. Again, he had seen a figure moving toward him slowly, a figure with long golden hair that poured down from its head and enveloped its body, a figure that wore a simple blue garment. As he remembered the dream, the hair on the back of his neck pricked up and he suddenly felt very paranoid. ---------------------------------------- Wednesday Wilderness, Virginia ---------------------------------------- As Scully entered the small café that lay on Orange and Fredricksburg Plank Road, she immediately saw Catherine Lee, the only customer who had papers and reports spread across her table. Looking up, Lee saw her and waved her over. Taking a seat across from her, Scully introduced herself. After ordering a cup of decaffeinated coffee, they got down to business. Scully listened as Lee told her of the evidence gathered from the autopsies of the first two unexplained deaths. "Both were women, both staying at the Wilderness Inn. The first was a woman in her twenties who was working on her thesis. While at the Inn she was staying with a group of students and their professor. The suicide resulting from her death was that of her professor, a male in his thirties. The second death was that of a Civil War researcher. She was an african- american woman in her forties who was staying with a group of friends at the Wilderness Inn. The resulting suicide was that of one of her friends, a male, forty-five years of age." "And the third was another woman, a police officer investigating the past two deaths. The suicide was that of her direct superior, another man." Scully finished. "They're all women. The suicides are all men. The only connection is the Wilderness Inn." Lee surmised. "Do you think that it could be the owner?" Scully asked. "Fay? No, I've known her my entire life; she isn't capable of killing anyone. Though it's a good possibility that the Wilderness Inn was being targeted by the killer to find his next victims." Lee replied. "In my autopsy I found some peculiar tearing around the heart. Did you find anything abnormal about the other two female bodies?" "I found the same tearing. I've never seen the likes of it before. I also found gun powder residue on both victims." Lee replied. "Well, that would be expected, considering that the men fired a gun above the bodies to commit suicide." Scully said. "Yes, but in this case it practically covered the bodies from head to toe. And it was from a very old firearm, it didn't match that of the newer handgun models." After reviewing the cases and having a short meal, Scully and Lee parted and Scully traveled back to the inn. Waiting for her were the files of all the suicide victims. Grabbing these, she headed up to her room on the second floor, adjacent to Mulder's. As she passed his room, she noticed a dim light seeping through the crack under his door. Knocking softly, she entered when he sleepily told her she could. He was stretched out over a large armchair looking over the police reports. "Mulder? Don't lose any more sleep over this, you look exhausted." Scully said, concerned. "I already tried to sleep. I'm used to being tired." He said weakly. "Did you have another dream?" Scully asked. "Yeah, but it's no big deal, don't worry about about me." Scully smiled comfortingly and squeezed his hand before going to her room. Yet, despite his words, she couldn't help worrying about him, or his latest series of nightmares. And neither could he. Yet, when he finally did fall asleep, the dreams haunted him once more. Again, Mulder found himself in the same field, yet this time he was aware of his surroundings. He could hear the chirping of birds, and a distant, unknown booming. He could smell an odd mix of gunpowder and newly cut grass. And he could clearly see the figure of his earlier dreams. A beautiful young woman approached him. She wore a long blue cotton dress and held a straw hat in her hands. She stared at him with large, unmoving eyes filled with wild fervor. Her lips moved, as if she was desperately trying to tell Mulder something, but try as he could, he could not make out the words. And as a cloud of smoke enveloped them both he heard the faint, almost whispered words urging him. 'Tell her! Tell her before it's too late!' came the innocent pleas. And then he awoke in a sweat, covers kicked back from his body. ---------------------------------------- Thursday Wilderness Inn Wilderness, Virginia ---------------------------------------- When Mulder dragged himself from his bed and down to the dining room, Scully had already eaten and left to perform autopsies on the suicide victims. Fay served him a large home cooked breakfast and sat down near him. "So how's the case going?" She asked. "It's a strange case, we can't find a cause of death for the victims. But, Mrs. Harper, if you see anything strange around the Inn, be sure to tell one of us." "Oh, call me Fay." The innkeeper laughed. "This is a beautiful house." Mulder said through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. "Yes. It was built by my great grandfather. He ran a cotton plantation. It was almost destroyed in the war though." "The war?" "The Civil War. During the battle of Wilderness a cannonball actually struck the horse stables about twenty feet away. The Confederate forces swept across my great grandfather's pastures and met the Union forces over the crest of Tapp's Hill. The battle began at Noon on May 5th. I remember my grandfather, who was a small boy at the time, telling me of the battle. He and his sisters could hear the firing of muskets in the distance and the booms of the dual cannons echoing each other. He rarely spoke of it, though. His eldest sister took her own life soon after." "I guess this house has a million secrets." Mulder said, a theory forming in his mind. "Fay, where is the nearest archive?" ---------------------------------------- Thursday Wilderness Morgue Wilderness, Virginia ---------------------------------------- Scully had woken early that morning and had taken advantage of the time on hand to begin the autopsies. She had found nothing unusual about the bodies, beyond the gaping wounds caused by the single bullets that had taken their lives. Washing up, she was about to file the autopsy documents when something struck her eye. All the original victims had died at the same time; all at exactly 3:57 PM. She noted the item before filing the autopsy reports. ---------------------------------------- Thursday, 3:27 PM Meade Memorial Library Wilderness, Virginia ---------------------------------------- Six hours later Mulder sat at an old oak table surrounded by aged, dusty books, records and other documents. Although he had had to sort through years of documents to find what he needed, he now held it in his hands. Sarah Harper, Fay's great aunt, had committed suicide on May 6th, the day after the Wilderness Battle. While the medical technology wasn't as advanced as it would be in the future, no autopsy had been done. The death certificate only listed cause of death as 'a broken heart'. Perplexed, Mulder approached the librarian and asked about Sarah Harper and her death. The librarian, a local of the area, was very helpful and led him to Sarah's journal, which had been donated to the library. A cloud of dust erupted from the yellowed pages as he opened it to May 5th, 1864. The entry was written during the battle and spoke of the fighting from the point of view of a scared woman, more mature for her age than she should have been. The writing seemed to waver with each discharge from the huge black monsters. Mulder could almost see Sarah and her younger brother and sister huddling together in a room of the ancestral home. Mulder turned the page to the last entry in the book. It was short and written sporadically. The page was wrinkled with tearstains. All the entry said was that James Higgerson, a lifelong friend of Sarah's, had died during the battle. Sarah had written, 'Dear James was killed in the battle. He had looked so handsome and brave in his uniform. And his body now lies amongst those of his friends and enemies alike in a field devoid of all life. We received word of his death today at three hours and fifty-seven minutes after noon. I never thought he was so mortal, nor I. I never imagined I would miss him this much. I never knew. I never knew that I loved him. I still do love him, and I shall always love him. But no longer can I tell him, for it is too late.' The rest of the pages were blank. Shutting the book with a light thud, Mulder leaned back in his chair. The words from his dream ran through his head in a continuous thread. A piece of paper fell out of the journal and Mulder leaned over to pick it up. As he straightened out he saw that it was a picture of Sarah. For a second he froze, not knowing what to think, for the girl in the picture was that in his dreams. Glancing at his watch he saw that it was 3:34. He stood up so quickly that his chair tipped over, though he didn't seem to notice. He ran out of the library, ignoring the calls of the librarian behind him, and jumped into his rental car before peeling out of the parking lot. ---------------------------------------- Thursday, 3:42 PM Wilderness Morgue Wilderness, Virginia ---------------------------------------- Victoria Donelson nearly spilled her cup of coffee when the double doors of the morgue flew open. A man with stood before her, his eyes full of desperation. "Where is Scully?" He asked, out of breath, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her slightly. "Well, she was here until half an hour ago…" She began. "Where did she go?" Mulder breathed loudly, his eyes flashing and his chest heaving. "She…I don't know? I assume she went back to the Wilderness Inn. She had paperwork to do." He was already through the doors before she finished, running toward his car as his shoes kicked up small whirlwinds of dust. ---------------------------------------- Thursday, 3:54 PM Wilderness Inn Wilderness, Virginia ---------------------------------------- Gravel spun out from under Mulder's tires as his car screeched to a stop in front of the inn. He jumped out of the car leaving the car engine running and the door open. He wrenched the ornate door handle of the Wilderness Inn open and threw the door to the side. "Scully! Scully!" His calls echoed through the halls, yet went unanswered. He took the stairs two at a time, all the while calling her name. A door at the end of the hall opened and Scully stepped out. "Mulder, what is it? Are you alright?" She asked as he rushed toward her and enveloped her in a large hug. He held her against him and managed to say through uneven breaths, "I thought…that…it was too…late. I thought I had lost you." "Mulder, what are you talking about?" Scully asked, confused. "Scully, I need to talk to you, I need to tell you something." He said quietly. And as he clung to her, he whispered something in her ear. Somewhere in the house a clock marked the time: 3:57 PM. And if the two agents had not been so involved with each other, they might have even noticed the smell of gunpowder that wafted through the air, and a lone ominous boom of a long forgotten cannon.