Title: More Black Magic
Summary: Scully and the Lonegunmen deal with the fall-out of Diana's damage to Mulder. An authorized follow-up to "That Ole Black Magic" by Vickie Moseley.
Author's note: I got Vickie's story on Friday afternoon and it sparked a thought. I told er I was too busy, but she asked really nice and this is what came out.
Many thanks to her for catching the errors we only make in haste (can anyone remember the Dupont Square Metro stop?) as well as saying a few nice things. Special thanks to Martha for some speedy copy-editing. You can run my VCR any day even if you did cut off the last 90 seconds of Triangle.
The magic contained within is completely, absolutely made up. It was done with amusement intended and is intentionally vague.
Scully looked back at the list and shook her head. How had she gotten mixed up in this? Black magic. She didn't even believe in it. This was beyond crazy. At least there wasn't any eye of newt required. She looked again at the paper in her hand, which Frohike had downloaded off the Internet. Not completely unpredictable for the Lone Gun Man, but there was something about this that a dusty book from the back shelf of the library might have helped. She crammed the paper back in her pocket.
Mulder was under a spell. It made so much sense now. His behavior the past few weeks had been, well, irregular. Even for Mulder it had been off.
She pushed open the door to the bookstore. She had identified the Dupont Circle neighborhood as the home of a large variety of gay and lesbian retail outlets, but it also happened to be the location of a well-known occult shop as well.
She wandered the aisles, looking carefully at the variety of implements not really knowing what to expect. She felt a presence at her shoulder and turned.
"May I help you find something?" a young woman asked. She looked . . . she looked completely normal, strawberry blond hair, pale skin. She could have been a distant relation. Scully reached in the pocket of her trench coat for her list.
"'m looking for a female wax figure," Scully said, her voice cracking slightly.
"Sure, they're right over here," the woman responded leading Scully to a box of crude wax male and female figures.
Scully picked one up, looking at it carefully. *3.95 for that?* she thought. "And it doesn't have to resemble the person at all?" she asked, following the clerk to the cash register.
"This isn't Gilligan's Island. Is this your first spell?" Scully nodded. "Be careful. Magic isn't to be messed with. It can be very powerful. Did you need anything else?" Scully shook her head and collected her change and the figurine. One more stop at CVS for black eye shadow and she would be ready to go.
Three days earlier
"It has to be black magic," Langly said, looking up from the screen. "I did a little searching this afternoon and it has all the markings of a possession. Think about it, when did Mulder start to seem off to you?"
Scully put her hand up to her forehead. She still hadn't recovered fully from the abdominal surgery and the end of the day seemed more filled with aches and pains than ever. "I don't know, since we got back from Antarctica? Maybe when we went to Arizona? There was that whole strange episode with the boat in the Caribbean, but I chalked that up to salt water. Our trip to Nevada was certainly strange. Christmas. He's been completely unreliable the whole time we've worked with Kersh. He keeps disappearing. And this latest episode, well, I don't know what to say."
"If it isn't a possession than he's got to be the dumbest guy on the face of the earth," Frohike said, crossing the room to look over Langly's shoulder.
"So, we've determined that he began acting strangely early last fall. What we need to know is if we can lift the spell or if she has to do it," Byers responded.
"Hey, Langly, didn't you date a witch?" Frohike asked.
"She belonged to a coven, yeah, but it's not like she was 'Bewitched' or anything," Langly responded, shooting a dirty look towards the short man.
"Whatever. What I'm thinking is she might be able to help us here. Is that too much to ask? For Mulder?"
Langly's girlfriend had not been able to help them, but she had put them in contact with someone who could. It was most likely a possession, but only one that Diana could lift. They would either have to get her to release Mulder or destroy her power, her ability to hold a spell over Mulder. The woman they talked to wouldn't help them, but she did point them towards some resources which led to the Dupont shopping trip.
The big showdown was set up for that night. Byers would stay with Mulder in his apartment to witness any changes in behavior. Frohike, Langly and Scully would conduct the spell at the Lone Gunmen's headquarters. Agent Fowley remained unaccounted for, but the spell was against inanimate things as well as specific people, so Scully didn't figure Diana needed to be present.
"So what was Byers using to keep Mulder occupied?" Scully asked as they prepared the table for their business.
"Amazingly enough even witchcraft hasn't diminished Mulder's love of . . . " Langly began.
"I can't believe it," Scully interrupted, shaking her head.
"Nah, not the porn, the basketball. With the lockout he's more desperate for Knicks coverage than ever. Byers offered to hot-wire his cable so he could get the NBC output from New York," Frohike answered, setting down the orange candle in the middle of the table. "By the way, I like the new look."
Scully just shook her head. She had been a victim of the blue eye shadow phase, but this black goop on her eyelids was a new fashion low. Yet another unspoken statement of her devotion to that broken, disturbed partner of hers.
"I hope he realizes how much you care," Langly said.
"Me too," Scully replied. "I guess we might as well get started."
The spell was relatively uncomplicated. They melted the orange wax into the figurine. Chanted some words and then waited. It seemed like there should be a flash of lightning, crack of thunder, flickering lights, something. The three co-conspirators sat silently until the quiet of the room was interrupted by the sound of Scully's cell phone ringing.
"You had better get over here. All hell is breaking loose," Byers' voice came through the receiver.
Scully rushed down the hall to Mulder's apartment. She could hear him screaming. Strangely enough, the big CDC break-in and threat of long-term decontamination had disappeared after the incident at El Rico Air Force Base. Mulder had figured his lease would never be renewed this time, but until it came up in May he would stay put. This sure wouldn't do anything to help his case. She pushed open the door that had been ajar.
"Thank god," Byers said. He was in the kitchen where Mulder was cowering next to the refrigerator, completely incoherent, screaming at the top of his lungs. "I wasn't sure if you had a key, so I left the door open. I didn't know what to do."
"That was good. Let me see," Scully said, moving quickly to Mulder's side.
"Mulder, it's me, Scully. Can you calm down? Can we get you out of here?"
Mulder stopped screaming and looked at her with deadened eyes. "Get out," he said in a low tone.
"You want me to leave? What do you want me to do?"
"The wrath of the realm shall come down on you. Get out."
Scully turned and looked at the trio of men. Their faces were drawn. Scully flashed back to the clerk. What had they done? Magic was a powerful thing. Why had they thought they could do anything about this? She got up and moved over toward the door. "Stay with him. Let me try and get him some help." They each nodded their support and moved closer to Mulder as she left for the living room.
Where did Mulder keep his phone book? She finally found it underneath the couch. Sure it was fine for him with his memory, but most people needed to refer to the index every now and then. She flipped though the yellow pages looking for the shop. She reached for the phone, hoping that for once the Fates would be with her.
"Black Cats and Wands, this is Sarah," the voice answered.
"Sarah, this is Dana Scully. I was in yesterday, bought a black wax figurine. I think you helped me?"
"Oh yeah, Dana, I remember. I hope the magic worked out for you. You didn't get into any trouble, did you?"
Scully paused. She had always trusted her intuition before. Would it pan out for her this time? "Well, it didn't go all that well. What do you know about possession?"
Scully pulled open the door to allow Sarah to enter. Thankfully Mulder had stopped screaming.
"Where is he?" she asked. Scully pointed toward the kitchen. Sarah had a small black bag over her shoulder.
"Have wand, will travel?" Langly whispered under his breath. Byers silently smacked him on the arm, the blond man reacting as if it had actually hurt.
"He was screaming bloody murder when we got here," Frohike said as he ushered her into the small room. Mulder remained on the floor tucked between the refrigerator and the closet door. He looked like a little boy, all hunched up.
"So, you did a spell with a figurine, but not a figure of him. It was a female figure. Who was the woman?" Sarah asked.
"She . . . " Scully's voice trailed off.
"She's a witch and a bad one at that," Langly responded. "She had a spell over him, made him completely wacked."
"So you tried to lift the spell?"
"No, we were told that would not be possible. Instead we tried to eradicate her ability to hold the spell over Mulder," Byers responded, moving to take a closer look at the items the woman was removing from her bag.
"So, this spell. What was it?" she asked.
"It was one of the cycles of malsom," Scully replied, pulling out the page they had printed from the Internet. She handed it to Sarah.
"This is one of the things wrong with our world today. We work all this time to preserve sacred rituals and they get spread around to just anybody. I mean no offense, but I warned you that magic was not to be played with. This is serious stuff and you've created a pretty serious situation here."
Scully and the three men looked suitably reproached. Sarah pulled a large black book and began flipping through the pages.
"I'm not happy about this, but we can't leave him this way. I'll help you, but only if you promise me your spell-casting days are over," she said, looking up from the book. The others all nodded their agreement.
"So, you can help him?" Scully asked.
"I sure hope so, because the explanation to psych services isn't going to be pretty."
Between the three of them, the Lone Gunmen were able to carry Mulder into the living room and lay him on the floor. Sarah collected a number of his personal effects and put them next to his catatonic body. She began to chant softly over him. He remained quiet at first, but then as she chanted more loudly he began to shake. Scully moved over to him, but the other woman waved her away. His body began to shake wildly until he sat up and shouted, "I am what I am. Why do you challenge me!"
Sarah put her hand up to his forehead, now shouting the incantation. Mulder grabbed her hand and held it forcibly onto his head and then as her voice reached a crescendo, he fell back against the floor.
"Does he have a bed? Somewhere he can rest? He'll be very tired," Sarah said, helping herself up off the floor.
"This isn't the part with the projectile vomiting?" Langly asked.
"That was an exorcism, you idiot," Frohike responded. Scully looked around the room and then walked over to the door on the right-hand wall. She pushed it open and then signaled them to come over.
"Now I know he was possessed," Frohike responded as they took in the leopard skin covered waterbed. The Gunmen again transported Mulder, this time into the bedroom, onto the bed where he was more than willing to lie in an incoherent state.
"Let him rest throughout the day. He should be fine. I don't know what you did to him, but the spirits seemed to be willing to leave. He must be pretty motivated to be free of them. I trust the motivation behind this possession had something to do with you?" Sarah asked Scully, as they watched the Gunmen argue whether or not Mulder needed his jeans removed to rest peacefully.
"I don't know, I guess," Scully responded. "So, was he under the influence the whole time? Because there were moments, flashes of him every now and then."
"No one is capable of completely dominating a spirit. If he said anything to you that seemed to be right, then chances are it was him. It's like the fog. You might be able to see the Golden Gate Bridge off in the distance and then it's gone again. Good luck with him and call me if you have any more problems." Sarah handed her a card with her number on it, collected her things and headed for the door.
"Thank you. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you doing this," Scully said. The woman nodded and disappeared.
"I'm telling you, you need to let your butt breathe," Frohike was saying as Scully entered the bedroom. She looked over, surprised to see copies of Newsweek and the Reader's Digest on Mulder's bedside table.
"I'm a medical doctor and I feel that it's safe to say that Mulder will be just fine in what he's wearing. Why don't you go get us something to eat. Say what you will for possession, but I'm famished."
The men exchanged glances amongst themselves and then Byers jerked his head toward the door.
"You have my pager number if you need it, Agent Scully," he said as they headed for the front door.
"Thank you Byers, I'm sure we'll be fine," she responded.
Mulder moved slightly in the bed. Scully had dozed off resting against the footboard, but she instantly snapped to attention at the movement.
"Mulder?" she asked as she crawled across the waterbed to reach his head. These stupid beds were impossible to move in!
"Mmm," he responded. He raised his hand up to his head, his eyes still closed.
"It's Scully. Can you open your eyes?" she asked.
He lay there for a moment, then slowly opened his eyes. She looked into them, slowly exhaling, having not noticed she was holding her breath.
"How do you feel?" she asked. He levered himself into a seated position.
"Weird? Foggy. What's going on? Where are we?" he asked.
"Your apartment," she said slowly, trying to ascertain if this was the Mulder she knew and well, dammit, loved.
"My bedro . . . but this . . . where did this bed come from?" he asked.
"You tell me. Do you remember anything?"
He thought for a moment. He looked at her, his face scrunched in concentration. "Arizona. Aliens. Diana. She said she had to talk to me. You went to the hospital with Gibson. She talked to me. What did we talk about?"
"This is going to sound crazy, Mulder, but you have to trust me."
"Scully, you know that I would trust you with my life. How can you even question that?" Mulder asked.
"If you had lived through the past few months, you wouldn't be asking that," she responded, a wry chuckle in her voice.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm trying to tell you, if you would shut up for a minute," she responded. "I think Diana put a spell on you. As far as I can tell you've been possessed since sometime last fall. You've been completely unpredictable, even for you. You've behaved in ways that made me think you had been replaced by some kind of clone. I almost cut you to see if you would bleed red or green."
"Possessed? That's crazy. I would expect better from you, Scully."
"I know it sounds crazy. Don't you think that I, Dana Scully, would be the last one to offer this as a possible scenario? I'm telling you that this is what happened. I don't know how, I don't know why, hell I don't even know where Diana Fowley is. All I know is that she is a witch and you acted completely unlike yourself after an encounter with her. You have to trust me Mulder."
Mulder sat quietly, trying to absorb Scully's dramatic revelation. Finally he turned and looked at her.
"I don't know, but I think you're right. I'm running it over in my mind and there is a lot missing. Things are confused, they don't add up. I mean, I'm sitting in a waterbed, in my apartment. That isn't right."
"Do you remember anything?" Scully asked.
"You were shot. It scared me, I thought I'd lost you," he said, putting his hand on her abdomen. She reached down and covered his hand with hers.
"Yes. What else?"
"I . . . I remember a hospital room. You were there and I told you something."
Scully looked away, blushing. Mulder's admission of love was one of the first things she thought of when she began to consider the possession theory. "So, you remember that."
"That and your response," he said. "But, I also remember something else, something French."
"French?" Scully looked confused. Mulder reached toward her, pulling her face closer to his. She flashed back to that July afternoon in his hallway, the encounter interrupted by the bee sting. Mulder continued to approach until suddenly his lips were upon hers. She slowly opened her mouth to admit him. He gently explored her oral cavity while his left hand began to snake up her back. His right hand went forward, pulling her closer to him. The kiss grew deeper until finally she pulled back.
"Now that, that was familiar," Mulder said, smiling at her. She looked at him as a flash of a woman dressed in 1930s garb filled her mind.
"Folie a Deux. That isn't a chronic condition?" she asked. He shook his head, chuckling at her expression. She laughed herself and then pulled his head toward her for a return engagement.