All Characters copyright of TenThirteen Productions and Chris Carter. No infringement intended on any part... go ahead, take me to court... I'm using the insanity defence... heh, heh, heh... Comments, complaints and just plain talk to sheryl_martin@tvo.org Jackie St. George belongs to me, natch... Summary: A series of blinding attacks send the trio on a search. Rating: PG for disturbing images, Story, Paranormal... Dragons of The Sight (1/2) by Sheryl Martin The full moon illuminated the front yard of the small two story house; the white paint glowing oddly in the darkness. A set of wind chimes jingled a sweet tune; hanging out one window on the second floor where the window was open, propped with a thick volume of the encylopedia. Inside the young boy slept fitfully in his bed; under the poster advertising the newest release of Star Wars and beside the tattered piece of blanket that he would just die if any of his friends found out that he still had. A breeze stirred a lock of the blonde hair, and he murmured as he flipped onto his back. The hand clapped over his mouth roughly; the scream muffled by the wind chimes as they jangled loudly in the strong wind. "You will learn to See..." The deep hoarse voice whispered in his ear. "You will See..." Then the world went dark. ********* "You must have a death wish." The blonde looked up at Mulder. "She's in an extremely foul mood today." "Why?" Mulder raised his hands sympathetically. "Rosie, she had a week's vacation with her fiance and I didn't bother her once. Well, except for that phone call, and I swear Scully put me up to it." He beamed at the woman. "Really." She didn't wilt under his high intensity charm. "She just got a new prescription for her glasses and they need to be stronger." "Glasses?" He frowned. "I never see her wear glasses. Never thought she used them." "Why do you think they're being replaced?" She tilted her head to one side. "Add that to Marty flying out to Seattle for a job interview with this new consulting group; and she's in a foul mood... I've already taken all the breakables out of..." A sound of shattering glass came from behind the closed door. Rosie continued, not missing a beat. "...the office, except for her drinking glass. Which is now an ex-glass." "Well, I'll risk it." Waving at the blonde, he opened the door and walked in. The first thing Mulder noticed was St. George's hand twitch towards her face, probably to remove the offending item. Instead the Canadian sighed; a deep, tired sigh. "What is it, Mulder? I'm really having a bad day." She gestured towards the floor. "And watch out for the broken glass. I kinda had an accident." "So I see." Deftly sidestepping the shards, he laid a folder on her desk. "I was wondering if you wanted to tag along for a case." Raising her eyebrows, she flipped open the folder as Mulder droned the particulars. "Two children in the same small town were blinded in the past six months; their eyes gouged out while they lay in their beds." He nodded in response to the unasked question. "Drugged, certainly. Removal of both eyeballs; bandages applied while the kids were still unconscious." Jackie didn't flinch as she stared at the stark colour photographs. "Good thing I skipped breakfast." "The first one, Janet McCall, remembers hearing someone climb in through her window... unfortunately she suffered memory loss from the trauma, obviously." A finger pointed at another. "Five months later, almost to the day, David Thompson - the same thing. Both ten years old and that's where the resemblance ends. They attended the same school; but that's natural in a small area like theirs. But they had different friends; different classes; different likes and dislikes... no connections whatsoever." "And no suspects." St. George offered. Mulder nodded. "And that's the rub. Two in six months have the community baffled and scared stiff. Already the sheriff's had to quell two disturbances where they started throwing accusations at each other while having a town hall meeting to try and figure this one out. He's asked for FBI assistance ASAP before someone gets lynched." "But why blind the kids..." She tapped a pencil on her front teeth. "And more relevant, why ask me along? This isn't exactly in my jurisdiction, as you know." "Ah..." Mulder dropped his eyes to the floor. "Scully's been feeling a bit unwell lately... I can tell. And they just dropped this one on my desk, and I want to go work on it. But she won't tell me when she's ready to stop - you know how she is." "I do." Jackie smirked. "And she'd kill me if she knew you were here asking me to keep an eye on her and babysit her." He shrugged. "Well, she wants to keep working..." "And she'd kill me for saying yes." Pushing her chair back from the desk, the woman got to her feet. "But if she asks, I'm telling." "Agreed." "And thanks for not saying anything about the glasses." She sighed. "My birthday's this month and I'm feeling like such an old Dragon." "Well, you were warned that if you kept doing it you'd go blind..." ********* Rosie wrote briskly on the note pad "Buy Plastic Drinking Glasses"; pausing to scratch her nose with the tip of the pen. A loud crash came from behind the closed door. Without missing a beat she wrote "Nail Bookcases to Floor." ********* "So what are we looking for?" Scully hid a yawn as the sun started to creep over the horizon. "I'm assuming that you've done up a profile on this attacker already." "Right there." One hand on the steering wheel, Mulder dug out a folded piece of paper with the other and handed it to her. "Male, middle aged - probably living in the area since he's picking out his targets over time. Strangers usually stick out in small communities." She nodded. "Strong enough to scale the tree beside one of the houses and able to dose the kids with ether - a bit of medical knowledge..." Flipping through the pictures, she shook her head. "But not much - the way he did the eyes wasn't very complicated. Or pretty." "But why the eyes?" St. George pushed the glasses further up her nose, grumbling under her breath. "I mean, why not kill the kids?" "He doesn't want to kill them; just blind them." Mulder shrugged. "There's a variety of possible psychological reasons he might be doing it - anger towards family members; maybe the loss of a younger brother or sister... Right now I don't have enough to guess." "And the town is panicked." Scully noted. "Totally." Mulder agreed. "Two of them within six months. Windows are being nailed shut; school activities cancelled... it's turning into a lynch mob just waiting for a target." "So we're assuming it's a male, probably white... living in the community." St. George yawned. "Hell, we've got it solved already. Let's make dinner reservations." ******** The hospital was small but functional; the light blue walls and pastel curtains adding a homey touch to the private room where David Thompson lay in his bed. Sitting beside him and holding his hand sat the mother; her face drawn taut by fear and anger. "Hi, David." Mulder pulled up a chair to the bed, looking at the pale face; the bandages still wrapped around his head and face. "I'm Special Agent Mulder, with the FBI." "The FBI? Cool..." A trace of eagerness came into his voice, quickly dampened by the reality. "I guess you're here about what happened, huh?" "Yes." Mulder looked at the anxious mother. "I just wanted to check on what you told the sheriff." "He's tired." Mrs. Thompson said quietly. "They want to start rehabilitation in a few days. There's a blind volunteer who already wants to start teaching him how to find his way around." "That's good." Mulder nodded. "Do you remember much about the attack, David?" He shook his head slowly. "I don't. The doctor says that I have a memory loss." The youngster shrugged. "I just remember the wind blowing in through the window... and then it all disappeared until I woke up and started to yell..." His hand went up to the empty sockets. "They say I'll be okay..." Scully reached out and touched his arm. "You'll be fine, David." With a nod to Mulder, they left the mourning mother and her son. Once in the hallway, Mulder shook his head. "I don't think the family's involved. They ran a search on the parents and it came up empty." Scully crossed her arms. "Unless they just want the publicity - but then there's the other family. I doubt two of them in the same town would try this - maybe sickness, but not intentionally maiming their children." She gestured down the hallway. "That must be the volunteer." A man strode purposefully towards them; his white cane efficiently rapping from side to side as he came closer. Humming a soft tune, he stopped suddenly. "Excuse me..." He smiled uncertainly. "I know someone's there - can I help you?" Despite herself, Scully smiled. "We're here to help out on the Thompson case." "Oh, yes... poor David." The man sighed. "It's going to be hard to teach him how to survive in a world where you're the odd one out." He extended a hand into the air. "John Taltem." Mulder took it. "I'm Agent Mulder - Agents Scully, St. George. We're investigating the other blinding that happened a few months ago." Taltem frowned. "Yes, I'm working with Janet as well... You think you'll be able to catch this kook?" "With any luck, yes." Mulder hesitated. "Can you think of any reason why anyone would want to hurt them?" The blind man shrugged. "Maybe they saw something they shouldn't have... or maybe they didn't pay attention or something like that..." He rapped the cane on the floor. "Sometimes I don't regret losing my sight so I don't have to see the pain on their faces..." The humming resumed. "If you'll excuse me, I've got to go see David. Got to start somewhere..." Back in the car, Mulder drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "There was a letter left behind at each of the attacks." He looked down at his note pad. "You will See. Capital on the S." "Strange, considering he's just blinded the kid." Scully commented. "We've got it in already for analysis?" He nodded. "Along with the usual tests. But obviously this person thinks that somehow he's helping the children." "To see... Maybe he's referring to their intuition; their 'second sight'." Jackie offered. "Many blind people develop skills far beyond sighted ones." Scully looked into the back seat. "But that's to compensate for being blind. I doubt that you'd find many people willing to give up their sight to build up their other senses." She turned back to Mulder. "Delusional, my guess. Maybe he thinks that somehow he's helping the kids by taking their vision away. Or that he's saving them from not seeing something or someone..." She paused. "Maybe they saw something that they didn't realise; something that he doesn't know they're unaware of." "Possible." Mulder pulled the car into the parking space. "The Sheriff says that he's made copies of the notes before sending them off to our lab - we'll get a look at the copies and then figure out which trail to go on." ******* Sheriff Matheson was peeved, to say the least. Pushing his cap back, he shook his head sadly. "I've got no experience in anything remotely like this." Handing Scully and St. George small styrofoam cups of coffee, he sat down behind the desk as Mulder sipped his own cup. "I mean, two kids in six months... and the community is right on edge about it; looking behind themselves and wondering who it could be..." "Sheriff..." Scully started. "Has there been anything in the last year or so that could be related to this? Some case where witnesses couldn't be found; something where children were involved?" Mulder took up the thread. "We're pursuing a theory that the man wants to somehow mutilate possible witnesses to a crime. Or that he thinks they might have seen something. Or that the children are representative of witnesses who testified perhaps at his trial." Matheson stared at him. "This psychological stuff is still shaky in my mind." "In mine too, at times." Mulder smiled. Pursing his lips, the man leaned back in his chair. "Can't say that anything leaps to mind. Gillerton's a small place; a happy place. We don't get much crime here; much less a murder. We've had ten murders in the past ten years; an average we're darned happy about. And in the last year..." His forehead creased with thought. "Can't say that anything happened. No major trials for anything like that." "What crimes did you have?" Scully prompted. "A few cases of robbery; a few sexual assault..." He sighed. "That was hard to prove - the witness was as upset on testifying as the victim as the criminal. But we did get a conviction on that one." Shaking his head. he sighed. "I can get you the official record, but I can't say that any one stands out in my mind. We didn't even get our one murder."A tight smile forced its way onto his face. "Below average." Getting to his feet, Mulder nodded. "Let's see if we can keep your town below average." ******** The large tree next to the Thompson house was a thick oak; long strong branches reaching out to try and cradle the structure in a wooden embrace. Around it in a grotesque parody of decoration lay the yellow police tape; blowing loose in the breeze as the policemen walked around the house again and again, searching for some piece of evidence they had missed. "I'll look at the tree." St. George offered, looking up into the branches as she pushed the glasses up her nose again. "I think it's pretty obvious that he got in that way; but maybe he left a trail." "We'll see you in the bedroom." Mulder headed off towards the house, Scully behind him. "In your dreams, Mulder..." The Canadian laughed as she lifted the tape, flashing her badge at the officer standing by. Putting one foot in the small crack, she began to climb. The bedroom was decorated with Star Wars posters and a few Baywatch pictures discreetly hidden behind the closet door. Mulder smiled as he pointed at the woman. "Another great Canadian, Scully. Think St. George knows?" "I think she does, and I think that if you mention it to her she'll make sure you're not doing anything except looking at posters for the rest of your life." Grimacing comically, he shut the closet door as Scully picked up a toy figure; the arms outstretched as the plastic ray gun was pointed at an imaginary attacker. "What do you think?" "I think that he was attacked by someone who knew him well enough to not trip over the toy chest." Mulder pointed towards the window and the thick wooden sea chest sitting just under the sill. "Anyone who came in that way, even at a full moon, would have a hard time missing tripping over that. It's impossible to see, the way it's tucked under there." "Hey, Mulder..." A voice came from outside. Moving to the window, the two agents looked out as St. George balanced herself precariously on a branch. "He came up this way, definitely - a few scrapes on the bark tell me he was wearing boots." She bounced on the branch. "No heavier than about 200 pounds, though... this branch won't take too much more than that." "Come in here." Mulder gestured. With a easy hop the woman landed on the window sill and stepped down, catching herself as the sea chest threatened to trip her. "See?" "See what?" St. George frowned. Scully pointed at the chest. "Mulder thinks that the attacker knew this room well enough to avoid tripping over that." "So he was a friend of Thompson's who got up here a lot." She tilted her head to one side. "Maybe another teenager? I somehow doubt his parents would let him invite lots of adults up here." "Whatever." Mulder rubbed the windowsill, noting the dark circles of fingerprint dust blowing away. "They got no prints other than Thompson's. And he had to know where to step." "Agent Mulder?" They turned to see one of the deputies in the doorway. "They're getting ready for another Town Hall meeting in an hour or so; and the Sheriff thought you'd be best going there. Show yourself to the town and whatnot." He tipped his hat at the two women. "Give them a sense that we're getting somewhere on this case." "I love stretching the truth." St. George growled as she stood up straight from checking the floor around the bed and the sea chest. ******** "We want this guy caught! My god, he's already blinded two of our children! How much longer do we have to wait!" The angry man shook a fist at the stage. The small school had an even smaller auditorium; barely enough to fit a hundred people in; and definitely not the angry adults that swarmed in like bees heading for an attack. The table set up on the stage had a few chairs sitting haphazardly around it; but no one was using them - including the Sheriff, who stood awkwardly holding the microphone. "Folks, you know I'm doing all I can. I've called in the FBI's best experts on the case." He waved a hand at the couple to one side. "Agents Mulder and Scully are here to help us figure this one out." Scully looked over the anxious and angry faces; searching out St. George who was mingling in the crowd. After a hasty discussion, the Canadian had pointed out that while she couldn't be introduced as an agent in any sense of the word and not raise a lot of questions; but she could wander around and get a sense of what the general mood was. Not that either agent needed that right now. Because the crowd was scared; terrified and on the edge of panic. Wild-eyed mothers clutched their children to them; enraged fathers stood and ranted about their civil rights being violated and planning to buy extra firearms to protect themselves if the police couldn't do it; bored teenagers with an eye on the two agents to see if they were going to get caught drinking underage. As if scripted, the meeting disintegrated into a bit of yelling and assurances from Sheriff Matheson that things would be resolved quickly and if anyone had any information to pass it on to him or the agents. St. George met up with the pair as the last of the cars raced out of the school parking lot and back to the relative safety of their homes. "They're scared out of their wits." She sighed, tucking her hands in her pockets. "But no one's hinting at anything; no comments about the kids. Seems everyone liked them; no murmurs about getting back at the parents or anything. A blank." With a shrug, she looked at Mulder. "Next?" Mulder pursed his lips. "Let's get some dinner and work on it. I can't believe there's no reason here. Nothing happens without a reason." "'See'?" Scully repeated. "'See' what? Or who?" She opened the car door. ******** The hotel room was easy to get into; the luggage lying on the bed where the agents had left them. Two rooms for the three agents. One woman, one man... and he didn't know about the third. He hadn't Seen him/her on the stage; and no one recalled any third person there. But he knew there was a third one, and that unnerved him. Opening up the briefcase, he hummed a jaunty tune as he placed the thick rectangular box inside; setting the spring trigger gently as he closed the lid down. He assumed this was the man's briefcase, but it wouldn't make a difference. After all, it was to send a message. Go away and leave him alone to his crusade. To teach the blind to See. ******** "Mulder, that must have been the worst dinner I've had in years." St. George groaned as she opened the door to the room. "Good thing Dana's a doctor - I might just need to have my stomach pumped." "Oh, quit whining. It's on the Bureau's tab, not yours." He joked as he stepped in behind her, followed by a smiling Scully. "Besides, I didn't hear you complain until after the third piece of apple pie." "Well, I had to wash that lasagna down with something." She protested, picking up her suitcase. "And just because you get to claim it doesn't make it good." "Cut it out, you two." Scully grabbed her own overnight bag. "I'm tired and I still have to make my preliminary notes before we pack it in. And I should have the results back from our lab on the letters sent to the children; at least the start of them." "Right..." Mulder put his briefcase on the table. "I'll call you if I come up with..." St. George heard it first. A low humming from inside the briefcase, and it sure as hell wasn't his cell phone. "Mulder..." Slamming her hand down on the lid, she turned to him and opened her mouth to say something; realising at the last second that the lid had already been opened enough - the few millimetres enough to trigger whatever was inside. The dark-haired agent saw the lid fly up towards them both; pulling back at the same time as the woman wrenched his hands from the top of the briefcase and stepped forward to shield him. Then the world became a blazing, white-hot star in his face. Scully was the first to recover, lying on the floor against the wall where she had instinctively thrown herself when the explosion had gone off; mere seconds ago. Scrambling to her feet, she stared at the fire enveloping the briefcase and melting down into the mattress for only a minute before dashing out the door. Smashing the glass window with her elbow, Scully pulled out the plastic tab holding the extinguisher and headed back into the room; a part of her mind already registering the cries of the other tenants and the fire alarm bellowing in the background. Mulder was still lying on the ground, shaking his head as he tried to sit up; the fire now eagerly burning the sheets and threatening the rest of the room. Aiming the nozzle of the extinguisher at the base of the fire, the woman squeezed the handle once, twice... a third attack seemed to quell the fire and put it out; but she'd leave that to the experts. Dropping the now empty canister, she grabbed Mulder's arm; kneeling down in front of him and checking his stunned face and arms for cuts or burns. As her hands ran quickly and efficiently over his hair and face, he couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm fine, Scully... A few spots in front of my eyes, but I'm okay. Although if you want to run your hands over a few things to see if I'm fine..." His joking voice broke off as they turned together to see St. George curled up on the floor, her arms wrapped around her head in protection or pain. Scurrying over to the fallen woman, Scully took ahold of the arms; trying to pry them away from the face. "Jackie, work with me here..." She grunted, unable to work the arms free. "Let me check you out and see what's..." The arms came down reluctantly and slowly; the Canadian squinting at the redhead as the first firemen came in through the door. Without a second glance at the three agents they attacked the smouldering mattress; dragging it through the doorway and out into the parking lot. A different siren filled the air; signalling the arrival of an ambulance. Scully let out a slow sigh of relief looking at the unscarred face; realising that if any shrapnel had been in the small bomb, they would be dealing with a much more enraged St. George than the tired woman in front of them. The smallest cut would have set off a berserker-like Rage; and although St. George had been working with Mulder for years to control and channel it; she didn't want to put money on Jackie's control just yet. "Jackie..." Scully said quietly, as her friend gripped her arms with a fierce hold. "Are you okay?" She scanned her hands for burns, seeing only the lightest reddening of the skin. The woman looked blankly at her; her face scarlet from either the explosion or the heat in the room. The tension increased where her hands lay on Scully's arms, the skin stretched and tight. "No... I'm not okay..." Then a whimper escaped her throat, something neither of them had ever heard before. "I... can't see..." ************ end of part one... All Characters copyright of TenThirteen Productions and Chris Carter. No infringement intended on any part... go ahead, take me to court... I'm using the insanity defence... heh, heh, heh... Comments, complaints and just plain talk to sheryl_martin@tvo.org Jackie St. George belongs to me, natch... Summary: A series of blinding attacks send the trio on a search. Rating: PG for disturbing images, Story, Paranormal... Dragons of The Sight (2/2) by Sheryl Martin "A magnesium flare; something like that." The doctor looked from one agent to the other, noting the concern in their faces. "We'll get the results back from your lab; but that's my best bet at this point." "I've put a rush on it." Scully said softly. "But whatever it was, it was definitely meant as a message to us." The young doctor nodded. "Well, that's your area - not mine. Skipping the technical terms, I can tell you that she suffered mild burns to her face and arms; nothing that won't go away in a few weeks." He paused. "And as for her vision... the tests seem to show that it's only a temporary loss, that maybe it'll come back completely. But we'll know more in twenty-four hours when we redo the tests. And get a proper look at the eyes." "But she could be..." Mulder didn't finish the sentence. The doctor shrugged. "I can't say. I can't say either way. But I think she should stay in the hospital for safety's sake..." As if on cue, a crash came from inside the room. Scully stepped towards the door. "That might be harder than you think." Stepping inside, the redhead watched for a minute as St. George struggled with her combat jacket; tugging it onto her shoulders with a curse. The thick bandages wrapped around her eyes made Scully's stomach lurch with the memory of David Thompson; a floor above them. "Yah, Dana... I'm leaving..." Rubbing her palms against her jeans, she took a hesitant step forward. "If I can just find the door." Taking a step towards the Canadian, Scully couldn't help smiling. "How did you know it was me?" "Mulder doesn't wear high heels. Well, at least in public." A short laugh. "And I scared the last nurse out of here with a few French words." "Jackie..." "I'm not staying here." "You have to." Scully put a hand out, touching St. George's forearm. The contact made her friend jump. "You can't come back to the hotel - we've still got the team working it over. The magnesium flare or whatever it was managed to burn through the mattress and half of the bedspring. They're still checking the briefcase, or what's left of it, for prints." "So? I've shared with you before..." The sentence came out slowly, as if drugged. The worry and exhaustion showed on her face, along with the fear. "But we can't drag you along with this right now." Scully took a deep breath. "The doctor says that in twenty four hours they'll be able to take the bandages off and check to see if your sight loss is temporary..." "Or if I'm blind." The words grated out. "Wonderful. A blind Dragon. Might as well call in the undertakers." "Jackie..." Dana's head spun. "Don't talk like that. Let's wait until the doctors come back with a proper diagnosis before you start thinking that way..." The woman's shoulders slumped. "And here I was worrying about having to wear glasses." One hand patted a pocket. "Now it might be all pointless." She sighed. "I'll stay. Although this is not how it was supposed to work out." Scully smiled. "I know Mulder asked you to come along to keep an eye on me." "I'm that transparent?" St. George groaned. "Oh, man..." "Actually, no - Mulder is..." ******** "She's got the room down the hall from Thompson." Scully murmured to Mulder back in the hallway. "Although she does want to have it on the record that this is against her wishes." "Duly noted. I'll make sure I put it in the report." Mulder smiled, then grew solemn. "That bomb was meant for me..." "For us. For whoever opened up the briefcase." Scully wagged a finger at him. "Don't start with the guilt, Mulder. I'll wager that she can chew your ear off on this one, bandages or no bandages." "And I thought that was your job." He weakly joked. She led him towards the front doors of the hospital. "Let's get back to work. Because you know that Skinner's going to have us both if we don't deliver something more concrete than good guesses..." "Don't go there, Scully..." In the parking lot she paused, her hand on the top of the car. "Mulder, why didn't he make it a stronger bomb?" He stared at her, trying to follow her logic. "Stronger?" Leaning her elbows on the glossy roof, the woman nodded. "It's likely that Jackie'll get her sight back; at least a good chance. More than he gave those two kids. And if he were serious about killing any of us, he would have made it more than just a flare. He would have packed a few sticks of dynamite into it, or something to ensure our deaths. Not just try to scare us away." "You think he doesn't want to kill?" She opened the car door. "I think he definitely wants to avoid it." ******** He was upset. The workers in the hospital told him that the woman had been moved to the same floor as Thompson. The woman he had blinded, even if only for a few days or weeks. He didn't know it was a woman. St. George. He wanted it to be Mulder, the man. Pursing his lips and whistling his favourite tune, he headed out towards the taxi stand. He had more work to do that couldn't wait. ******** "If you need anything, just push the button at the side of the bed." The nurse put Jackie's hand on the cold steel rail. "I'll be here." "I'll be fine." St. George mumbled. A second later she heard the door shut behind the nurse with a snick. Taking a hesitant step forward, she felt the heat of the sun coming in through the window. Putting one hand up, she pressed it against the glass, feeling the warmth on her skin. ********* "He wants to blind his victims, not kill them." Mulder stood in the small office given to the agents by the Sheriff; spreading out the pictures of the two youngsters and the crime scene photographs. "He wants to teach them to See but he takes away their sight." "Nothing yet on the briefcase." Scully looked up from the desk, the receiver cradled in her shoulder. "They may have some partial prints; but it'll take a bit of time to put them together." She smiled. "Although the sunflower seeds did confuse them for a few minutes until they realised it was your briefcase." He grinned in response. "What about the flare?" "They're trying to track back the serial number. Not much there, but Skinner's making this a priority request." Scully sighed. "Nothing much other than that right now." The tall man tapped the photographs. "There's something here we're not seeing, Scully. He's doing this to the children. Young adults. Why not adults?" "An easier target?" She offered. "Maybe he can only attack children; maybe he's afraid of an adult fighting him off." "Then why creep into their bedrooms? Why not steal them from school; take them off the playground..." He shook his head, thinking out loud. "He's going for the bedroom at night because that's where he's got an edge..." ********** David Thompson woke up in a sweat, feeling his mother's hand land lightly on his arm and her soft voice. "Mom..." He swallowed. "I think... I heard... I think I remember..." He turned the sightless eyes towards the woman. "He spoke to me before..." ********* Mulder crouched by the hospital bed. "David, tell me what he said. What did the man say to you?" "He said something like... seeing... that I'd see... it was low, growly... a man..." The youngster's forehead furrowed with thought. "He said he would teach me to see..." "Was it a familiar voice?" Scully gently prompted, keeping a cautious eye on the mother; anxiously standing by the bed. "Yes... no... I can't say..." He shook his head from side to side. "I mean, I think I might have heard it before, but I don't know where..." "That's okay, David." Patting the boy's hand, Mulder stood up. "Just yell out when you remember who it is." With a nod to Scully, they exited the room, followed by Mrs. Thompson. "I want to put a guard here on the door." Mulder said quietly to the woman. "Just in case word leaks out that he remembers something. I want him kept safe." The mother nodded. "Yes... whatever you want..." She looked at Scully. "You think it's someone we know?" "It's possible." Uncrossing her arms, the petite woman looked at the floor. "As his memory returns, he'll be able to place the voice, hopefully. But that doesn't mean it's anyone he's close to. Could be a friend, a teacher... someone he heard on a playground once - the voice could be anyone's." "Okay." Mrs. Thompson disappeared back into the hospital room. Mulder looked at his partner. "Definitely male. We've got that much." Nodding, Scully took a few steps down the hall. "But that still doesn't resolve the question of why he's doing this. If he 'wants them to see' - to see what? Teach them what?" "Kinda blows the idea of them seeing a crime of some sort and the attacker wanting to dispose of the evidence." Mulder noted. "Mulder?" They turned to see St. George feeling her way down the hall; her hands gripping the railing running along the wall. "I'm thinking that this guy is a bit whacked out - that he thinks somehow that by taking away their vision he's going to somehow turn on something inside them. The Messiah thing..." Reaching out, she grabbed his arm. "And I'm going nuts here..." Her voice dropped to a low plea. "Can't you just leave me in the hotel? I won't do anything..." "Jackie, you know that's not the best thing right now." Scully interjected. "And we just got a voice identification from David. Which means that he might be a target." "He knows who it is?" "He heard a male voice. But when word gets out, the attacker might come back." Scully looked at Mulder. "And word will get out. This sort of news never stays secret for long." "So what?" "So I think it'd be best if you stayed close. We're putting a deputy at the door, but just in case..." St. George laughed. "Weak, Dana... dammed weak..." Her friend laughed. "Yah, but you can't blame me for trying." "Not at all..." Putting a hand out gingerly, she touched Scully's shoulder. "But at least you can get me back to my room - I'm totally lost right now." Opening the hospital door; the two women made their way back to the bed, Mulder a safe distance behind. Tugging on her sweatshirt, St. George flopped back on the bed and crossed her legs; rubbing the jeans back and forth nervously. "If you can set the television to the baseball game, that'd be great - Rocketman's pitching for the Jays today, and I can at least listen to it." "You're one hell of a patient." Mulder noted. She smiled in his general direction. "And you're so much better, hmm? I've heard the stories..." He looked at his partner. "You have, hmm?" Scully grinned in response. ********* The volunteers' lounge was buzzing with the news. One older woman stared over her glasses at the young candystriper who was enthusiastically recounting the news she had overheard at the nurses station. "So she says that he told the FBI agents that he remembered a voice, and now they can catch the guy!" "Annie..." The wiser voice sent a wave of calm over the happy teenager. "That doesn't mean anything yet. And it still won't bring back his sight. Whatever happens, he'll still be blind; and it's up to us to try and help him adjust to this new world. Right, John?" John Taltem nodded, leaning heavily on the white cane. "I just hope that he doesn't get his hopes up about catching this guy. Because that might just make it harder for him to learn." Rapping the cane on the tiled floor, he headed for the door. "I'm going to get some fresh air - anyone care to join me?" No one budged from the small group; all intent on their own theories about who it could be and where the attacker could be hiding. With a weary sigh, he closed the door behind him and headed down the hall; humming a show tune. ******** "What can he want to make them See?" Mulder mused as he dipped his spoon into the cup of coffee. The hospital cafeteria was the closest they could get to food at this point; neither agent eager to leave the young witness completely alone. "Too bad the other victim can't remember anything..." "Maybe in time, Mulder." Putting the cup to her lips, Scully took a sip. "But seeing... he's not meaning it in the literal sense, obviously. So he's talking about some sort of philosophical aspect; making them See in the spiritual sense, perhaps..." "But that doesn't explain how he got into the room without tripping over that chest." Mulder lifted the spoon, watching the dark fluid drop down into the nearly-full cup. "The Thompsons would know if he had had any male visitors; and they've said nothing about any suspicious kids hanging around the house. No bullies at school; and I still think that we're looking for an adult. The low voice substantiates that much." "He must have been able to see the chest." Scully shook her head. "Somehow he managed. Maybe infrared goggles or something - those are available to anyone with the right amount of money these days. But it's a lot to pay just to climb in a window..." Her voice trailed off as she watched Mulder's face. He was staring intently at the drops of coffee as they dripped into the cup; the ripples rolling out from the impact to the rim of the mug and then back atop each other; eventually cancelling each other out. His eyes met hers; dark and sad. "I know who it is. And how he's doing it." ********** "And the Rocketman closes them down again in the eighth inning - he's probably going to go for the game." The announcer shouted from the television set. With a weary sigh St. George turned the sound down again; fumbling with the control. This was boring. And annoying. And as scary as all hell. She'd even tried to strike up a conversation with the deputy sitting outside David's door; but that had disintegrated into a series of yahs and nos, encouraging her to duck back inside her own room to get some decent company from the television set. Then she heard it. A gunshot. Rolling off the hospital bed, she scrabbled for her revolver which was lying atop the bedside table, then stopped. No use having a weapon when you can't see where to aim it. Staggering to one side, she grabbed at her jacket; hanging from a hook on the back of the door. Reaching inside a pocket, she retrieved the black leather glove and tugged it on her left hand, feeling the tacks press against her skin. What her ancestors would have made of this, she had no idea. Absentmindedly as she struggled to open the door, she wondered if any of them had gone blind. ******* Smacking the elevator button, Mulder swore at the closed doors as they waited in the basement. Beside him, Scully shook her head in confusion. "Mulder... what are you talking about?" He punched the button again. "He's talking about making the kids see again... see using some aspect of their senses that they don't have; or haven't developed, right?" She nodded as the doors opened and they entered. Jabbing at the sixth floor button, Mulder watched the steel doors close. "But he can't teach it if he doesn't already know it." Mulder looked down at the floor; pounding his foot up and down for a second. "Feel that?" She nodded. "Reverberation. I felt it in my legs." Her eyes widened at the realisation. "You think this guy 'sees' by using some sort of sonar?" He nodded, eagerly waiting for the door to open. "That's how he managed to miss the chest in the boy's bedroom. He didn't have to see it with his eyes, because he saw it with his senses. He's like a bat; using the bounce backs from the sounds he sends out to decide where the objects are." The elevator settled on their floor. Scully looked at him. "But whoever had that would have to deal with an overload of information possibly - having the mixture of sight and sound would be too much to sort out. And how would he send out the sound waves to discern where things were?" The doors opened as Mulder reached for his pistol. "Songs, Scully... and how would you expect a blind man to see?" ******* Pulling the door open, St. George took a cautious step out into the hallway, sniffing the air. The smell was faint, but obvious - weapon discharge. And way too close for comfort. Putting her right hand on the wall, she took a step towards what she thought was Thompson's room. "I'm sorry, you know." The voice startled her; freezing her in motion. It came from in front of her; maybe a few feet. "I never intended for you to get hurt. I wanted to scare him away; send you all home before you figured it out." The voice identified itself in her mind. John Taltem. The blind man. She frowned. "John... where's David?" A muffled cry. "He's here. With me. I'm going to have to take him away to teach him now." The words came out in a singsong tune; the humming only stopping for him to speak. "You'll be fine - I can't teach the adults how to See. I can only teach the children." "Taltem!" The familiar voice brought St. George around; facing down the hallway. It was Mulder's voice, and not a very friendly one. Her foot hit something solid. Her stomach turned when she realised that it was a body; most likely the deputy's. And she was in the worst spot possible. Because she was in the middle. Scully assessed the situation quickly; sending the few nurses hiding under the desks in the nurses station down the emergency stairwell with orders to call the Sheriff and the local State Troopers with the information that they had a hostage situation on their hands. Maybe two hostages... She stepped up behind Mulder, who had his pistol out and trained on the blind man. In front of Taltem stood David Thompson, wearing a t shirt and jeans; the bandages still thick and wrapped around his eyes. And the service revolver from the dead deputy on the floor was pointed at the young boy's head. A few feet away, St. George stood; her back now against the wall. But definitely within the gunman's range. "Let the boy go, Taltem..." Mulder advanced slowly, sensing Scully close behind; her own weapon now out and the safety off. "Let him go and we'll talk..." "There's nothing to talk about." The tall man shook his head. "All I ever wanted to do is teach them to see like me... I never wanted to hurt anyone..." The barrel of the revolver pressed against the boy's temple. "But that means that you let us go." He drew a deep breath. "Don't push me, Agent Mulder. I know you're exactly twelve feet away from me; your partner thirteen... and this other woman is to my left, about three feet from the deputy. I know what I'm talking about; and we're walking out of here now." Taking a step forward, he pushed the boy ahead of him. Mulder stopped walking. "Taltem, let him go and we'll discuss this..." His eyes locked on the two figures. "I know how you do it - you send out waves that bounce back to you and you identify the shapes." His eyes shot to the Canadian. "Just like sonar..." St. George felt the cool wall against her back, through the tshirt. Unrolling her left hand, she lightly laid it palm down against the wall. "I can teach you to see..." Taltem whispered to the frightened boy. "I'll take you away and teach you to do what I can..." She slammed her hand down; feeling the tacks pierce the skin and drive into her left palm. Sighting down the barrel of her pistol, Scully watched as Taltem's hand began to shake; the revolver drifting back and forth as the static assaulted their senses. Acting instinctively, she dashed ahead of Mulder and reached out to the stunned child; grabbing a handful of shirt and pulling him out of harm's way as Taltem's hand dropped to his side. Swaying side to side, the blind man brought the revolver up in front of him; swinging left to right in obvious confusion as the static roared around them all; deafening the two agents as well as effectively blocking Taltem's ability. Mulder aimed high, seeing the revolver slowly settle on the slumped woman between them. Squeezing the trigger gently, he fired. The blind man staggered backwards, dropping the weapon as the bullets drilled into his left shoulder. As he fell to the ground, Mulder strode forward quickly to kick the revolver away from his hands. Kneeling down, he checked for a pulse, then looked back to the crouching Scully; still holding the terrified child. "He's alive." Scurrying to the right, he put two fingers to the unconscious woman's neck. "And she's fine. Just passed out." The redhead nodded, stroking David's blond hair as he clung to her. ********* "Although Agent Mulder's theory that John Taltem possesses some sort of extra sense that enabled him to send out sound waves and interpret the results is intriguing; there is no evidence at this point to support it. Taltem is blind, has been blind since birth, and has never shown this ability before or since our contact. All medical tests have come back negative at present; but if such a sense is present, it could be well hidden somewhere in the brain and unable to be seen by the naked eye or any of the medical technology available to us at this time. John Taltem is being of no assistance to us. He refuses to speak at all; closing himself off to everyone and everything. And if he ever did possess this ability; the lack of speech has truly taken his sight away. There are no written diaries; no tapes to give us any idea of what he was attempting to do, aside from his rantings at myself and Agent Mulder. That he was trying to encourage this skill in others; primarily children that he blinded with the intention to teach them eventually to develop and learn this skill; perhaps to pass on this knowledge. But we may never know what it is, or how he came by it..." Scully looked up as Mulder opened the hotel door. He looked at her with a soft smile, noting the fingers flying over the laptop. "It's time..." ******** "I'm going to turn all the lights off at first, then bring them up slowly - so don't panic if you can't see anything at first." The doctor carefully unwrapped the bandages around St. George's head; careful to not tangle the long dark hair up in the white gauze. "Yah, well I saw that episode of M*A*S*H a hundred times." She growled; although Scully and Mulder could see her hands clenching and unclenching with the nervousness. Taking a step forward, Scully looked at the unscarred eyes in the dim light; seeing nothing. "You're doing fine, Jackie..." "Well, not if I wake up to Mulder's ugly mug. There are some things that aren't meant for human sight." She quipped. "Okay, open them slowly. And don't be upset if things are a bit blurry." The doctor's voice came from the other side of the room. The Canadian squinted at first, then forced her eyes open. The room grew lighter and lighter as the doctor raised the intensity of the overhead lights. "Jackie..." Scully breathed out slowly. "Can you see anything?" She turned towards the two of them. And smiled. "Man, Mulder... that's one ugly tie..." ************ "There is no such thing as a problem without a gift for you in its hands. You seek problems because you need their gifts." Richard Bach -- Illusions