Chapter Seventeen
Climax

Free's POV

I used to sing a lot. I could come up with an appropriate song for almost any incident and occasion. For instance. A rescuer has finally shown up. A handsome FBI agent, no less, shooting out a lock and kicking down a door to come rushing to my aid. Can't get much more dramatic than that, eh? Wrong. Because just as he's getting ready to call in the troops, my captor, his partner, appears and draws down on both of us. I believe the appropriate tune here would be "Isn't It Ironic?" by Alanis Morrisette. But I don't feel like singing right now.

"Dana,"Muldex says quietly. "Put the gun down."

"Stop touching her, Mulder."

He carefully removes his hands from my arms. "What happened, Dana? What's going on?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

She frowns. "I don't have to give you an explanation that's acceptable to you, or to the rest of the world. I needed her, I took her, she's mine."

"Scully, listen to yourself. You need help."

"I need to be left in peace. I've finally found someone who makes me happy, Fox. Someone outside all the garbage that goes on in the rest of my life, the rest of the world. I have to keep her here, so she'll stay uncontaminated. Besides, it's best for her, too. I've seen how the world treats her."

I can't take it any more. It's stupid, I know. My only excuse is that my self control has been worn down to a hair thin line. "The world?" I manage to lift my arms, holding them out to her. They're so coated with bruises that it almost looks like I'm wearing one of those massive oriental tattoos. Despite the padding on the leather cuffs, there are chaffed rings of raw skin around each wrist.

She winces, as if I've struck her physically. "I never meant to really hurt you, Free. You know that. You..."

I finish the sentence with her. "...made me. How many abuse cases do you think you'll find those words in, Dana?"

"It isn't like that," she whispers.

"No? What's it like, Dana? Is it love? Is that what you're telling yourself? That's what you keep telling me. Well, you're fooling yourself. I'm not your wife." I scrabble at the collar around my neck. My fingers are slow, and clumsy. "I'm not your girlfriend, or your spouse, or your mate." I manage to unbuckle it, clutching it tight. "I'm not your lover!" I throw the collar at her, screaming. "I'm your bitch! That's what you made me!"

Fox whispers, "For God's sake, Free. Shut up."

"I don't care! Do you think I care if she kills me? She's been killing me for weeks now. I'm tired, I could rest. And I'd go in peace, knowing the shit she'd have to deal with after this. No, I take that back." I narrow my eyes at her. "I won't go in peace. I'll come back from the grave and haunt you. You won't be able to draw a breath without me standing beside you, telling you that you don't deserve the oxygen you just sucked down."

As I speak, I hear something. Sirens are wailing in the distance, coming closer with every second. Fox looks past Dana, as if expecting to already see uniformed men coming down the hall. "The old lady must have called 911. Scully, they'll be here any minute now. Put down the gun and let me take you into custody. Maybe I can keep you out of their hands, let the Bureau deal with this. I can try."

"Mulder, take your gun out, very carefully, and toss it over here gently."

He sigh, and obeys her, removing it with two fingers and tossing it at her feet. She stoops and picks it up, never taking her eyes off us, her gun never wavering. She closes the bedroom door, and stands to the side of it. "I have to think about this."

"Scully, please, before it's too late." Fox pleads.

"It's already too late, Fox. It was too late the second I saw those apartment to let ads circled in the paper."

We hear voices approaching. There are heavy footsteps in the living room. There are instructions to check the kitchen. Footsteps start down the hall. Dana calls out. "Don't come in here! I have people in here with me, and I have a gun!"

There is a conference outside. "...lady next door says there's probably a woman, the roommate, and a guy, the owner's partner, she thinks, kicked in the door and went in. Then Scully showed up and went in, too."

A voice is raised. "Who are we talking to?"

"Special agent Dana Scully."

"Special...? FBI."

"Yes."

"Son of a... Scully, did I understand you to say that you're holding a gun on some people?"

"That's correct. My partner, Fox Mulder, and my roommate."

"Are these suspects you've captured? Do you need assistance?"

"No. These are hostages."

Silence for a moment. Then, quietly, obviously to someone else, "Call for a negotiator." The voice rises again. "What do you want, Scully? What can I give you or do for you to get you to let those people go?" Dana doesn't say anything. "Scully? Talk to me. Cash, transportation, media access. What do you want?"

"Can you make someone love me?"

"I... that's kind of out of my hands. Maybe if you talked to this person..."

"She's sitting right here, and I don't think she much wants to hear anything I have to say right now. I... I think I fucked things up pretty bad with her."

"That would be Free, wouldn't it? Free, can you hear me? Are you all right?"

"Yes, I can hear you, and how the hell do you think I am? I've been chained to a bed for over two weeks, repeatedly raped by a mad woman, beaten black and blue, and been reduced to an object. It's been a bad month!"

I can sense the astonished dismay emanating from the other side of the door in waves. Fox is gaping at me. He's certain I'm committing suicide, and possibly taking him along with me.

"And now... now I'm being held at gunpoint in a fucking hostage situation. Channel 12 is probably on its way right now. Someone out there is trying to figure out the closest place to go for coffee and sandwiches in case this turns into a seige. I've had enough!" I start to haul myself off the bed. Fox begins to reach for me. Then he takes another look at Dana's gun, and stops.

"Free, sit back down."

I ignore her, sliding my feet over the edge of the bed. The circulation, which had been sluggish, speeds up with the position change, and I suddenly feel like my legs are on fire, but I don't stop. I get my feet on the floor.

"I'm going to be coming out. I'd appreciate it if you didn't shoot me, but if you do, then put one through my head, and make it quick, because I am sick of this crap!"

"Free, sit back down."

I push myself to my feet, and immediately sit back down when my knees won't hold me. Determined, I try again, and manage to keep my feet. I wobble perilously, but I stay upright. "No. Remember, guys. Innocent bystander, coming through. I have curly hair and a lot of bruises. You won't be able to mistake me."

"Free, I'm warning you." Her voice is thin, desperate. I can see panic building in her eyes.

"Lady, don't do anything stupid." the voice outside urges. "We have a professional on the way right now."

"Why, or you'll kill me, Dana? We've been over that, haven't we?"

Dana's POV

She's standing in front of me, wavering. She looks so weak, so fragile. I want to take her in my arms and comfort her, but I'm the one who's done this to her.

I've lost her. All I wanted to do was to keep her forever. Whatever happens, whether she lives, or dies, she's not mine anymore. If she ever was. My hand flexes on the butt of the gun. We're both in so much pain now. Maybe it would be best...

She's watching my eyes, and she speaks slowly. "And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard. Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word. The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword. How brave are you, Dana?" She turns her back on me, and goes to the door. "I'm coming out."

Her hand is on the knob. "Free." She glances back. I put the gun to my temple. "Don't go."

She stares at me. "I can't do it, Dana. I can't be your reason for living." She opens the door.

Free's POV

My hands over my head, I step through the door. "Don't shoot."

One of the men standing flat against the wall beside the door grabs me, and shoves me farther down the hall. Another man grabs me, and I am being hustled outside, half carried, half dragged. Behind me I hear, "Okay, Scully. That's one. Real good, I see you want to work with us. Now, just..."

"Dana, no!"

The voice is Fox's, and almost simultaneously, there is the crack of a single gunshot. There is a lot of shouting, and the sounds of frantic activity inside. Above all the noise, Mulder's voice rises in a scream. "Get an ambulance!"

I drag the unprepared policeman down with me as I slip into unconsciousness.