Contents

Table of Contents ...... 2 Locusts by Syn ...... 2 LOCUSTS: Chapter One: “The Whirlwind” ...... 3 LOCUSTS: Chapter Two: “Technicolor” ...... 9 LOCUSTS: Chapter Three: “The Golden Road” ...... 14 LOCUSTS: Chapter Four: “Wisdom” ...... 21 LOCUSTS: Chapter Five: “Courage” ...... 26 LOCUSTS: Chapter Six: “Flying” ...... 34 LOCUSTS: Chapter Seven: “The City Of Emerald Hue” ...... 40 LOCUSTS: Chapter Eight: “The Man Behind The Curtain” ...... 46 LOCUSTS: Chapter Nine: “No Place Like Home” ...... 51 LOCUSTS: Chapter Ten: “Awake” ...... 58 x-libris.xf-redux.com Locusts by Syn Return to main “Locusts” page

Table of Contents

LOCUSTS: Chapter One: “The Whirlwind”

LOCUSTS: Chapter Two: “Technicolor”

LOCUSTS: Chapter Three: “The Golden Road”

LOCUSTS: Chapter Four: “Wisdom”

LOCUSTS: Chapter Five: “Courage”

LOCUSTS: Chapter Six: “Flying”

LOCUSTS: Chapter Seven: “The City Of Emerald Hue”

LOCUSTS: Chapter Eight: “The Man Behind The Curtain”

LOCUSTS: Chapter Nine: “No Place Like Home”

LOCUSTS: Chapter Ten: “Awake” Locusts by Syn

Category: TA / R (for violence & profanity)

Disclaimer: These characters are owned by Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Television. No copyright infringement is intended and no money may be made from this story.

Spoilers: US Season Five up to “Emily.” Detective John Kresge is the San Diego detective who starred in “A Christmas Carol.”

https://x-libris.xf-redux.com/story/locusts/ 2/67 x-libris.xf-redux.com Locusts by Syn Summary: An unexpected death begins a terrible journey for Dana Scully and Fox Mulder, one that threatens to tear their faith, their beliefs and their partnership apart.

LOCUSTS – by syn

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~~~~~~X~~~~~~ LOCUSTS: Chapter One: “The Whirlwind”

The bullet was lodged in his skull like an unwelcome guest.

Entering without invitation, staying too long and making one hell of a mess while there. There was blood, that was true, but along with the encrusted crimson rivulets that lined his face, there was sharp white bone and the dark brown stain of secret things surrounding his head, ruining the carpet upon which he lay.

His eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling above him, two unblinking and bloodshot orbs. That ceiling had seen better days, but he would never know them, or even note the disrepair it was in now. There was nothing left for him to note, to see, to feel…he simply existed, an inanimate object, perfect within his lifeless surroundings.

For he was dead, absolutely so. There were no more thoughts or plans or futures to contemplate; the only thing left was the journey unknown, for his intangible parts. His spiritual being had abandoned his body against its will, and his anger at the betrayal was still evident in his down turned mouth and curled lips, both showing aging teeth.

Murder it was, plain and simple and even the dead man seemed to acknowledge it with rage.

But the means didn’t change the end, for the man who lay upon the floor of his own home, with his dark blood permanently staining the middle class rugs of his rented house, was dead and gone and eternally so. His body alone would await his wife and child’s return, wait for key to click in the front door’s lock, the discovery to be made and the horror of his family to begin. If alive, he perhaps wouldn’t have wished for what was to come, the terrible confusion to be followed by shrill screams and torn sobs, but he no longer had a say in the dispersion of his fate.

Just as he never had a say in it while alive.

But that was over and done with now, and there was little left for him to do, except bleed and stare and ruin those who had once loved him…those who’d loved the strong, stubborn, seemingly righteous man they thought they knew well, but they knew him not at all and he left them ignorant, with only a ghastly corpse left to tell the entire…the true, story.

But Bill Scully Jr. probably wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

X

Mulder had taken his vacation the day after he and Scully had returned from San Diego.

https://x-libris.xf-redux.com/story/locusts/ 3/67 x-libris.xf-redux.com Locusts by Syn They’d talked briefly before he’d left, leaving a pile of manila on her somewhat new desk, and a few humorous e-mails in her in-box. But nothing of note was said, there were no important recaps of recent events, the ones that tore Scully from the comfort of her independent life…her formerly barren life.

For when a woman was once with child, even against her will, she was forever with child.

And she could not forget.

But, this child was dead, almost kindly so, and Scully immediately returned to her job which was the cutting and searching and defining of human tragedy as seen through the stiff corpses of those who’d suffered a violent end at the hands of someone else. How she loved pathology; it had the emotional benefit of the story combined with the distance of science. So, Agent Dana Scully did her autopsies during her partner’s absence, absorbing her internal anguish over Emily and was comforted by the work.

She was a bit surprised that Mulder hadn’t called once during his furlough, for Mulder had the habit of calling her daily, even if separated by official sanction, but it was his vacation and she didn’t begrudge him the distance. Instead, she was almost grateful for the respite, for it meant that there were no hasty misunderstandings, no foolish spur-of-the-moment arguments based on things other than the facts at hand.

But on that bright and very cold Monday morning, her cel phone did ring.

“Scully,” she answered, waiting almost impatiently for her partner’s returning salutation.

“Agent Scully?” the deep voice replied, hesitantly.

“Yes?” she said, with an imperceptible sigh, the one she always gave when it wasn’t Mulder.

“This is Detective Kresge, San Diego Homicide.”

Scully hesitated for a moment before replying. She had no good memories of her last visit to San Diego. “Detective Kresge. How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” came the polite…almost formal, reply. Immediately, Scully knew there was something…something, not quite right. In her capacity as a law officer, she’d used that tone with too many people…too many victims of some type or another to be unaware of when it was being used on her.

“Is there something wrong, Detective?” she asked, her heart uncharacteristically in her throat.

“Well, I’m afraid there is,” came the reply and it was then, at that moment, that Scully heard it. That terrible call of distress, the call of heart-broken women throughout all the world, throughout all times.

Scully heard the keening.

A sharp, piercing noise, a high-pitched scream that came from somewhere behind Kresge, coupled with the painful wail of a terrified infant. Shrieking it was, and loud enough to startle a person who stood, behind her desk, piled high with thick manila folders, nearly

https://x-libris.xf-redux.com/story/locusts/ 4/67 x-libris.xf-redux.com Locusts by Syn three thousand miles away. And it wasn’t one woman, but two of them, shrilling grief with their voices, a harmony of pain.

“What is it?” asked Scully, the pitch of her voice rising in unconscious empathy.

She could hear Kresge swallow twice, two harsh gulps. “There’s been a murder, I’m afraid.”

“Related to the Emily Sim case?” she asked, wondering at the chills that crept down her spine.

“No.”

Scully’s throat tightened further, as the cries of the unknown victims, those poor torn and faceless souls who stood behind Kresge grew louder. “Then who’s been murdered?” she asked, her heart tripping, its beat furious within her chest. She heard Kresge take a deep breath before replying.

“Your brother, William Scully Jr.”

The phone fell from Dana Scully’s hand.

And for a long moment, she stood stock still, as over the dangling receiver the tinny sobs and cries of her sister-in-law, her mother and her infant nephew continued, echoing through the closed basement office. Suddenly, death itself had a face…and a family.

Kresge’s spoke again, sounding haunted over the wires. “Agent Scully?”

No answer.

“Agent Scully?” he repeated.

But unbeknownst to him, the office was already empty.

X

The only thing she heard on the flight was his voice.

//Hey, Dimwit. Get out of my room!//

//Put me down, Billy! Lemmee go!//

The only thing she saw outside the window was his face, somewhere… somehow, etched into the clouds.

//Hey, Billygoat…Marissa says she likes you//

//Shut up, Dana!//

The only thing she felt when she closed her eyes, was his arms around her, just as when he’d scooped her into them after she fell from the tree, after she graduated med school…after Melissa’s death.

//Not bad for a Dimwit.//

https://x-libris.xf-redux.com/story/locusts/ 5/67 x-libris.xf-redux.com Locusts by Syn //Oh, thanks Goatboy.//

The only thing that filled her mind was their last conversation, an argument, a furious screaming match over the phone two days after her return to Washington. Scully didn’t remember what it was about, she only remembered its heat and its fury, so akin to emotions as ugly as hatred itself. The phone had been slammed down so hard, her hand ached for hours afterwards. Oh, what were her last words to him? What could they have been?

But as hard as she tried to, Dana Scully just couldn’t remember.

//Love you, baby sister.//

//Love you too, Billygoat.//

X

Detective John Kresge was waiting for Scully when her plane landed, a mere six hours after receiving his phone call. There was no luggage visible, she appeared to have with her just her long trench coat and purse. She didn’t even bother to pack, he thought. Quickly, she strode toward him and he mentally prepared himself for the barrage of questions that was sure to come.

But Scully walked right past him…dazed.

“Whoa. Hold up, Agent Scully,” he called out, jogging after her. He caught up and grabbed her arm to slow her stride. When she turned around, he was surprised to see the extent of her shock. She was pale, trembling and looked as though she were ready to drop. A wave of pity rolled through him, along with a desire to sooth, but he shook it off.

That’ll only make this worse, he thought with an imperceptible shake of his head.

Scully looked up at him, her eyes slightly unfocused. “I have to go to my mother,” she whispered hoarsely and he felt the trembling running through the arm he held onto.

“She’s at the station with your sister-in-law and nephew,” replied Kresge, grasping her arm a bit tighter. She really looks like she’s about to lose it, he thought, trying to support her without being overbearing.

Scully looked confused. “Why are they at the station?”

Kresge immediately looked uncomfortable and slowly began to lead Scully from the terminal. “They asked to be taken there,” he said carefully. “We have a suspect in custody.”

“So soon?” asked Scully, as an unspeakable rage clawed its way up her throat and cleared away the dull and miserable fatigue of shock. “Are you sure its the right person?”

“Pretty damn sure,” replied Kresge, holding open the building door and pointing her in the direction of his car parked directly in front. Scully strode over and jumped in without waiting for him to help her.

Kresge entered at the driver’s side and started the car as he continued. “He was confirmed

https://x-libris.xf-redux.com/story/locusts/ 6/67 x-libris.xf-redux.com Locusts by Syn armed and we have people placing him at the scene at the approximate time of death. We also have eyewitness reports of him in a violent altercation with your brother at some point earlier in the day.”

Kresge looked over at her, trying to gage her reaction to this news, but Scully didn’t reply. Instead, she stared stonily ahead, biting her lip, as the car pulled out onto the palm tree line freeway. It was unseasonably warm, but Scully didn’t even loosen her trench coat. Instead, she actually drew it up higher around her throat, shivering at the onslaught of some imagined cold wind. Tears, silent and ignored, rolled down her cheeks, dripping unhindered onto her coat, but her eyes retained their enraged fire.

Kresge observed this silently from the corner of his eye and then turned back to the road as they flew along underneath the hot, bright skies of a California afternoon. He shook his head again. This was going to be worse than he’d originally thought.

Much worse.

X

The station house was the usual madhouse of activity, with flying clerks, dropped papers, circling lawyers and yelling criminals. Kresge shoved a path through the main lobby and bade Scully to follow him to the relative quiet of the back rooms. She walked behind him, not taking any note of her surroundings, her entire being focused on her goal.

To see what was left of her family…

And to see the man who’d destroyed them.

As soon as the halls grew clearer, Scully broke into a jog behind Kresge, not able to bear another minute separated from her mother, whose comfort she desperately needed…and whose grief she desperately feared. Kresge led her toward a small back room with an old wooden door and gently motioned her inside. Scully took a deep breath and entered, the tears already beginning to flow.

The woman sitting in the hard plastic chair in the middle of the room looked terribly old…much too old, much too frail, to be her mother. But upon closer inspection, Scully saw the familiar deep brown eyes shining through the redness and above the hardened lines and wrinkles that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Scully knelt down slowly and took her mother’s cold, bone-thin hands between her own. “Mama,” she whispered, unconsciously reverting back to a child, one who was filled with terror at her mother’s distress. Maggie Scully did not respond to Dana’s greeting, but continued to sit, staring blankly at the far wall, her features collapsing under some great invisible weight.

Somewhere, in another room, Scully heard an infant crying. That must be Matthew, she thought dully. Her nephew was weeping, no doubt also terrified at his mother’s grief, clutched tightly in her arms, not understanding why his safe and comfortable world had suddenly shattered. Scully turned back to her mother and gently pushed a fallen lock out of Maggie’s eyes, caressing her cheek.

“I’m here, Mama,” she said, trying to get her attention…somehow. “I’m here.”

https://x-libris.xf-redux.com/story/locusts/ 7/67 x-libris.xf-redux.com Locusts by Syn Maggie Scully slowly looked up and stared at her daughter, who shivered beneath her face’s blank dignity and completely drained expression. “Dana?”

“Yes, I’m here,” repeated Scully, brushing her mother’s cheek once more.

“Oh, Dana. Do you want to know something, Dana?” whispered Maggie Scully, her cheek twitching slightly. “About William. Your brother He…he…”

“Yes?” asked Scully gently.

“He didn’t want to come out,” said Maggie Scully softly, with a strange, blank smile. “He was such a stubborn baby, even when he was being born. I was in labor nearly two days with him, and it was such a circle…such a circle of hell. It never ended, it was like fire and I’d never felt such agony. After the second morning, I wanted to die, I wanted us both to die, even if only to make it stop.”

Scully nodded silently, the tears threatening to choke her.

“But then he was born, finally, it was then that I realized one thing,” continued Maggie Scully, her voice cracking and thick. “Yes, I realized one thing.”

“What was that, Mama?” asked Scully hoarsely.

Her mother looked down upon her and began to sob. “I realized how very much I loved him. Oh, Dana. I still love him. What am I going to do without my baby? What am I going to do?” The sobs became louder, uncontrollable and no amount of soothing would assuage their terrible violence.

Scully listened for a few moments, and then took her mother in her arms, rocking her back and forth, as she were a child. Finally, after nearly an hour, Scully rose and turned to Kresge, with a white face and blazing fury in her eyes. “I want to see him,” she hissed, enraged. “I want to see him now. I want to see the son-of-a-bitch who did this to my family.”

Kresge paled slightly, but nodded. “All right, but I’m warning you, this might not be easy.”

“I just want to see him,” she replied, coldly shoving past him.

Kresge complied and pointed Scully in the direction of interrogation rooms. “He’s still being talked to in Room 1013. You can view the proceedings from the two-way mirror, second down from the end.”

Scully tottered toward the room on a pair of unsteady legs, numb from kneeling. She braced a hand against the wall, sliding it down as she walked. The mirrored wall came into view and she took a deep calming breath before looking through it. Her gun weighed ominously against her hip, its cold weight biting heavily, but she ignored it, concentrating instead on memorizing the face of the suspect inside. To keep inside her heart to hate forever.

But as it turned out, that would be unnecessary.

For there, sitting behind the scrutiny of the two-way mirror, behind a battered table was a tall man with dark hair and a profile she knew better than her own. Scully looked twice,

https://x-libris.xf-redux.com/story/locusts/ 8/67 x-libris.xf-redux.com Locusts by Syn blinking with shock, but the apparition refused to change. Her head spun and her breath caught cruelly in her throat, because in the interrogation room, sitting handcuffed and silent in the chair, being questioned for the murder of her brother, was a man who Dana Scully knew very well.

For the man in that room was her partner.

Fox Mulder.

X LOCUSTS: Chapter Two: “Technicolor”

Ensign “Turk” Wheedle looked exactly like a rat.

All he needed were the fishing line whiskers, a fat pink tail and he’d have been an exterminator’s dream come true. The giant rodent of legend…a wall-hanger. But as it was, Turk was just another lousy human being with pointy ears and an ugly face and those came a dime a dozen.

He’d joined the Navy to beat out a rap in Chicago; trying to avoid a few acquaintances who’d been asking too many questions about a large amount of narcotic alkaloid derived from coca leaves that had been last seen in his possession and was now missing. Turk swore on his granny’s grave he didn’t know anything about it, but unfortunately the man he’d fenced it off on had told the mob a slightly different story.

Finally, Turk figured that getting out of the country might be a good idea. There was nothing like hopping on board a ship headed to the ends of the earth to avoid certain entanglements. And, he got paid for it.

But after his duty abroad was over, and the Chicago gang had given up on his skinny rat- ass for the time being, Turk found himself stuck behind a desk in San Diego, working boy- Friday for the hardest-assed, biggest brass-balled, loudest-lipped Lt. Commander you could imagine.

Lt. Commander William Matthew Scully, Jr. of The United States Navy was one Drano-eating son-of-a-bitch who spent half his time writing up the poor bastards under his command and the other half making Turk run out and ream out the dry-cleaning boys over some damn wrinkle in his uniform. And