Work Text:
December 2002
She sat nervously in the park, a book in her lap, trying not to appear suspicious. She looked left and right and then chastised herself for doing so.
That’s precisely how a suspicious person would behave, she thought and she let out a breath, trusting he would be there soon, their agreed upon meeting time fast approaching.
A woman walked by pushing a stroller inside of which sat a deliciously chubby baby with big blue eyes and her heart ached, tears filling her own eyes. Shaking her head, she tried to smile at the baby, but she knew it was wobbly and not one a baby would respond to eagerly. But just as they walked past, the baby turned his head, giving her a happy smile. She drew in a deep shaky breath and waved as the mother kept walking, oblivious to their interaction.
Letting out her breath, she wiped her eyes and looked down, needing to calm her sadness. She opened her book, continuing to look down, not reading a word.
She saw the shoes first, the shiny business type dress shoes she had seen for most of her life in one way or another. Lifting her head and looking to her left, she saw Walter Skinner standing beside her, a briefcase in hand as he looked around the area, but not at her.
He had a newspaper under his arm and as he sat down, he set the briefcase on the ground beside the bench and opened the paper, blocking his face from those walking by.
“Mrs. Scully,” he said softly as she looked back down at her book.
“Maggie. Please, Mr. Skinner.”
“Walter then, if we’re dropping the formalities.” She nodded, turning a page in her book and sighing. He was quiet for a moment and she felt the need to break the silence.
“Thank you for meeting me. Dana said if anything were to ever happen… I was to contact you.”
“You think something’s happened?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I need your help.” She saw him glance at her from the corner of her eye and heard him sigh.
“Have you been in touch with either of them?”
“Not… exactly. I…” She turned another page in her book, keeping up the ruse that she was reading. “I got a letter in the mail. Well, not a letter but an um…” She sighed and then smiled, closing the book and running her hand across the title of Moby Dick.
“When they were younger, my husband told my kids about codes, about how Navajo was used in World War II because it was a code the Japanese could never break. They all wanted to know more about it, but no one more than Dana.” She smiled again, remembering her sitting at the kitchen table, making up codes of her own. “She would create codes and give her sister notes, both of them cracking up. I could never figure it out, not having the key myself, but I remember those days. I remember the pages of her scribbles and little hieroglyphics.”
“She sent you a key,” he said softly and she nodded.
“I think she did.” She turned her head and stared at him as he looked at her. “I don’t know what it means, not yet… but if the time comes, I may need your help.” She sighed and searched his face, waiting for him to agree. “Dana always spoke so highly of you, Mr. Skinner… Walter.” He sighed, looking around before he nodded and glanced back at her.
“Do you… do you have the letter with you?”
“I do.” She opened the book and took out the note card that had arrived in the mail a week ago. She set it between them on the bench and he shifted, picking it up and staring at it. With a sigh, he shook his head.
“There are thirteen symbols, all of them different. I would say it’s the alphabet… but it’s not enough letters.”
He turned it over and shook his head again as he placed it back on the bench. She set her book down on top of it, picking up the notecard and holding it tight to the back of the book. She knew it had to be a key, she just needed to figure it out.
“When did you get that? Was there a return address?”
“A couple of days ago and no…. it wasn’t written in handwriting I recognized, but I know it’s from her.”
“Mrs. Scully… Maggie… I don’t know what I can do to help you. I… I want to, but…” He sighed and she nodded, tears in her eyes again. “I want them to come back. To know they are okay. But… right now, they can’t. It’s impossible. He is still a fugitive. And she… well, she could come back, but we both know she won’t do that without him.”
“No. No she won’t,” she said with a soft smile. “Too long they were apart. Too much happened in between. Too much was sacrificed.” She drew in a breath, stifling back a sob as she thought of William, of Dana’s pain, the tears they had shed together.
Pressure on her hand pulled her attention back to the present, looking down to see Walter’s hand on top of hers. He squeezed gently and she sniffled, pushing down her tears and clearing her throat. He moved his hand and she took another deep calming breath.
“Whatever you need… I’ll do what I can.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, nodding her head and bringing her book back into her lap and placing the notecard inside.
He moved the paper and reached into his coat pocket, taking out a business card, which he held between his fingers as he opened the paper again.
“I got a different phone, specifically for this, assuming we would be speaking again. The number is on the back of the card. If you need me again, call that number.” He set the card on the bench and she placed her hand upon it when he had moved his hand. “I know all these clandestine actions may seem unnecessary, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Nor do I,” she agreed quietly, picking up the card and slipping it into her coat pocket. “Thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for them.” She stood up and looked around before turning toward him and looking directly at him. “Thank you.”
He nodded slightly and she walked away from him. She placed her hand in her pocket touching the business card as the other held the book, the key from Dana held safely within.
_____________
Three days later, another note card with thirteen different symbols arrived in the mail. Different handwriting, local city postal stamp just like the last letter, though she knew Dana would not risk being back so close to home. She wondered who was playing go between, keeping their location secret and safe.
Staring at the twenty six symbols, she knew they had to be the alphabet. Sent separately, not taking the chance of them both becoming lost, she knew there would be a letter following, though she did not know when.
She paced the house, looking at the scarce Christmas decorations she had put up, not feeling particularly festive but needing something. Christmas had come and gone and New Year’s was tomorrow. Usually she loved the holidays, but now all she could think was that it would stop mail delivery for a day.
A week into the new year, a letter arrived in the mail. Same city postal stamp and she stared at it before finally opening it carefully.
A page of symbols was written on a piece of paper and she hurried into the kitchen to take the keys from the pages of Moby Dick. Sitting at the table, she set the notecard she had labeled number one on the left and number two on the right.
She took out a pad of paper and began to try and decipher the letter. Not wanting to write on any of the original letters, she rewrote the symbols, labeling them with what she believed to be the correlating letters of the alphabet. When she was done, she took out a fresh piece of paper and began trying to break down the code.
A half an hour later, she sat back and looked at what she had written down. She sighed as she shook her head, sure it was right, but not quite understanding it.
The body of the letter had spelled out: one four zero six five one two seven three one four
Where the closing would be, with a cordially or sincerely, there was another set of numbers:
One thirteen nine p m
One twenty nine p m
She stared at it and then it hit her.
“It’s a phone number,” she whispered, covering her mouth. “Oh my God.”
Rewriting it as numbers, it made even more sense.
1-406-512-7314
1-13 9 pm
1-20 9 pm
“A phone number and two dates. Ohhhh.” She stood up quickly and walked to the calendar, staring at the date. “Monday. Five days from now. Oh my God.” Turning around, she opened the book again and took out Walter’s business card. Swallowing, her throat suddenly dry, she picked up the phone and called him.
He answered on the second ring and she jumped at his voice, different from the last time she had spoken to him: gruff and brusque.
“Skinner.”
“Mr. Skinner. Walter. It’s M-”
“Yes?” he said, interrupting her, and her eyes moved to the clock, realizing he was at work.
“I’m sorry for-”
“Did you have new information?”
“Um…” she said, looking back at the letter on the table.
“Well, get it. Two hours, no later.”
“Okay,” she said, understanding what he was saying. The phone disconnected and she sighed, shaking her head.
Sitting back down at the table, she looked again at the letter, knowing that she had cracked the code and gotten it right. Dana was attempting to contact her, giving her two dates, in case something happened and one of them was unable to meet one of them.
Standing up, she paced, nervous energy pushing her forward. She walked into the living room and stared at Fox’s fish tank, watching the fish swimming peacefully, her own heart pounding quickly. Usually the fish calmed her, but not today. Not right now.
She went back into the kitchen and took the mop from the cupboard, needing to do something with the energy coursing through her.
The phone rang as she was drying her hands, the kitchen spotless and smelling cleaner than it ever had before. She ran to it and answered it breathlessly.
“Hello?”
“Same place. Bring a coat.” The phone disconnected again and she hurried to the table, closing up the letter, the keys, and her own writing. She placed them inside the book, hiding it in the dryer, under her load of clean clothes.
She hurried to leave, and then slowed down, not wanting to appear too anxious should someone be watching her. She had never seen anyone sitting outside the house, coming or going, but she knew she would most likely not see them. It had been months, but still they all needed to be careful.
Leaving the house, she kept watch, making sudden turns, nearly double backing at times, but she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Breathing a sigh of relief, she headed to the park.
Gathering her things, she buttoned her coat and walked toward the bench. Her guard up now, she looked at the faces of people passing by, watching them for anything abnormal. Nothing seemed it, but she was on the alert.
Standing across from the bench, she waited, watching others as they walked by on this cold January evening. She saw him coming towards her, recognizing his frame, and as he drew closer he slowed and jerked his head, telling her silently to start walking. He kept a couple of steps behind her, but close enough to talk.
“What’s happened?” he asked quietly.
“Another key and then a letter. Arriving a few days apart.”
“Thirteen symbols?”
“Yes.”
He was quiet and then he cleared his throat.
“You figured it out?”
“It’s a phone number. Dates and times to call it.” She heard him chuckle and she turned to glance at him over her shoulder.
“Your daughter… she never ceases to surprise me. Truly. She’s tough and amazing, smart… She sent them knowing you would know what to do with them. She puts her faith in the right people.”
“Well, I am her mother,” she said with a smile and he chuckled again.
“When?”
“Five days from now and then a week after.”
“Okay. You realize it can only be one of those dates?”
“I do. I understand.”
“And… it can’t be a long call. Just in case. It… Mrs. Scully…” He touched her arm and they stopped walking. She glanced around as he did the same, but there was no one close to them. “Dana will have taken precautions. Perhaps purchased or cobbled together something that will make the call harder to trace, but…” He shook his head and she nodded.
“I understand. I just… I just want to know that they are okay. That…” She shook her head and let out a breath, blinking back her tears.
“I know you do. I do too.” He sighed and looked around again. “Don’t call from your home number. Go to a pay phone or someplace different to make the call. Is there someplace like that you could go?”
“Umm…” She looked around, thinking of what she could do or where she could go. “Yes. I could go to my friend's lake house. I could be there a couple of days early, so as not to arouse suspicion.”
“I think a pay phone would be better.”
“No… I don’t want to mess anything up. Not have the right amount of money, or the pay phone is broken, anything. The lake house will be good.”
“Okay.” He nodded as he looked at her and sighed. “Do you know where they are?”
“No. I didn’t recognize the area code. I don’t want to know. And even if I did, they will most likely move on from there soon, not wanting to take any chances.”
“You’re right.
“The letters though… they had a Maryland postal stamp.”
“They wouldn’t be here. Not this close.”
“I know.” She stared at him, silently asking if he was the go between person, and he shook his head.
“No. It’s not me. They would know better than to try to get in touch with me. I’m still being watched, though Kersh would perjure himself if he was to out my hand in anything.” He looked around and she did the same, though again there were not many people nearby. He smiled and she sighed, putting her hands in her pockets.
“Is there anything I should do other than using the other phone number? Keeping the call to a minimum? Anything else?”
“I think that’s all you can do. Honestly, the lengths that have been taken… I think you’re as covered as you can get.” He smiled again and she nodded, closing her eyes briefly. “Let it ring once, hang up and call back.”
“Okay,” she whispered and nodded again. “Thank you. I… this isn’t something I normally worry about.” She sighed and he nodded in understanding.
“Get home out of the cold and get to that house.”
“I will. Thank you. And you’re right, Dana does put her faith in the right people.” She took her hand out of her pocket and squeezed his arm as she smiled and he looked down, clearing his throat. Squeezing once more, she turned and walked away, heading back to her car.
____________________
Five days later, she paced the living room of the lake house, the hour of nine approaching. She had all the lights off, looking out the windows occasionally, expecting to see a car outside with some kind of spy equipment watching her. She knew how ridiculous it was, but she could not help it, she was feeling nervous.
Looking at the clock, her stomach dropped and she sat down on the couch, turning on one lone light, reading off the number, though she knew it by heart. Her fingers shook as she began to dial the eleven numbers that would carry the sound of Dana’s voice into her ear. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and pressed the last number.
_______________________
Two thousand miles and two time zones away, Scully waited in a pay phone booth outside of a gas station.
The attendant had left an hour ago, right on schedule, just as he had done when she had watched him in December, when they had recently arrived in Montana.
Motels, tents, and nights in the back of the car had become tiresome, creating short tempers and causing arguments. As it became colder, they had moved north, figuring they could find a place that someone had vacated in search of warmer weather.
In mid November, she had found a little cabin style home that the owner had been happy to rent, especially when they had paid three months upfront in cash. No one else was around, as snow began piling up, and winter set in to stay. They had very rarely ventured out and usually only her, Mulder staying behind to remain safe.
Stopping at the closest gas station one day, a small operation with only two pumps, she had canvassed the area, noting the pay phone booth at the edge of the gas station. The place did not have surveillance equipment around it, no cameras anywhere, and the owner left every day at six. She had watched him for a week, making sure it was his regular schedule, before she began to make her plans.
She had made sure the pay phone in the booth at the edge of the gas station worked, calling the station from the phone book she had found inside the booth. She had heard the phone ringing, watched the man walk inside to answer it, and hung up when he had.
Driving back to the cabin, she had gone over in her head how she was going to do two things: tell Mulder and craft a way to pull off her plan.
Pulling into the garage, she had taken a deep breath and gone upstairs, finding him in front of the fire reading a book. He had smiled when she walked into the room, his expression changing when he had seen the look on her face.
“What’s going on?”
“I need to speak to my mom. I need her to know that I… that we’re okay. I need to know that she is too.” Blunt and to the point, she had stood there, waiting to hear what he would say.
“Scully…”
“I know what you’re going to say, but I have an idea. A way that it won’t be traced and no one will know where we are.” He had stared at her and she sighed.
“What did you have in mind?” he had asked and she had gone to him, wrapping her arms around him as she sat on his lap, crying softly as he hummed and rubbed her back.
“A key code,” he had said after they had eaten dinner.
“Yes. I told you before how my father told me about Navajo code talkers. Well, I tried to make my own codes after that, always trying to discover new ones.”
“Of course you did,” he had said with a laugh and she had smiled.
“My mother knows about it and I think she will remember. I’ll keep it simple. Keep it a twenty six symbol key code representing the alphabet. I think she’ll understand.”
“She will. She’s a Scully woman.” She had laughed and they took out some paper, working on a rough draft of symbols to use.
Staggering the sending of them to the post office box that had been set up after Mulder had left, Scully had waited nervously, hoping they were passed onto her mother, and then she would be able to figure them out. She had faith that her mother would remember the obsessive days when she created those pages of keys and code, mostly writing silly things that made her and Missy laugh, her mother shaking her head with a smile.
An unforeseen storm was due to hit the night of the thirteenth, and they had both gone into town, buying extra supplies they would need for the next week. They had finished with the shopping and then waited until 6:30 to drive to the gas station. They had left the car running with the lights off, the sky dark and the snow beginning to fall lightly.
“If this doesn’t work… I don’t know if next week will either, Scully,” he had said, reaching for her hand and kissing the back of it. “If this storm is worse than the one in December, we might not be able to make it back here.”
“I know,” she had whispered, staring at the payphone, the wipers running intermittently and scraping away the falling snow. “I just need to talk to her. I need to hear her voice.”
“I know, honey,” he had said, and she smiled softly at the recent pet name, and squeezed his fingers.
They had stared at one another, speaking quietly for the next twenty five minutes, until she had put on her beanie and gloves with a sigh. Kissing him and touching his face, she had left the car, shivering as she stepped into the phone booth and closed the door.
Picking up the receiver, she checked to be sure there was a dial tone. Hanging it back up, she looked at her watch and swallowed hard, her heart racing. Three minutes until seven.
She could see her breath coming out in white puffs of mist, the phone booth cold. Looking up, Mulder smiled at her and she tried to smile back, but she knew it was shaky. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she once again prayed that all of the letters had reached her mother and that she was waiting by a phone to call her right now.
Opening her eyes, she saw Mulder holding up his hand and she knew he meant no longer than five minutes for the phone call. She nodded, knowing it would have to be brief.
The shrill ringing of the phone made her jump, breathing hard, her heart in her throat. It stopped after one ring and she frowned. About to pick it up and check for the dial tone, it rang again and she lifted it from the cradle and placed it to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Oh…” She heard and then her mother was crying, tears filling her own eyes.
“Mom?”
“I’m here,” she whispered and Scully laughed happily, a gloved hand going to her mouth.
“You’re okay?”
“Yes. Are you?”
“I am. We… yes.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “You figured it out.”
“I remembered.” Scully laughed and nodded. Of course she had.
“This can’t be a long call.”
“I know.”
“I just… I needed to hear your voice. I wanted you to know that… we are okay, to know you were, and to say… to say that I’m sorry. Sorry for so much.” She knew her mother knew what she meant, thinking of the days after William was gone and how it had broken her. Both of them.
“Dana,” her mother whispered, her voice thick with tears. “I’m sorry too. Sorry this is how it has to be right now, but you have to stay safe. Stay… far.”
“We will.”
“I miss you. But, I know this is how it has to be. You are where you need to be.”
“I am,” she said, looking out at Mulder who tapped his watch and put up three fingers. She nodded and sighed deeply.
They were both quiet, the realization that this would most likely be the last time they spoke for a while, weighing heavy upon them. Too many things needed to be said and not enough time to do it.
“I love you, Mom,” she said, the most important thing to relay, as Mulder held up two fingers and her heart raced, warm tears falling on her cold cheeks.
“I love you too. So very much. You… don’t stay where you may be in danger.”
“No. No we won’t. We’re okay.”
“Good. Stay that way.”
“We will. I have to go now, Mom,” she whispered, sniffling and she heard her mother doing the same.
“Stay safe. Take care of each other.”
“Yes.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
She held the phone until she heard the dial tone and then placed the phone back in the cradle once more, covering her mouth again as tears began falling faster.
_____________________
At the lake house, Maggie stood staring at the phone, tears on her cheeks and a hand at her mouth.
They were okay.
Sitting down on the couch, not remembering when she had risen, she replayed their conversation. Though short, it was just what she had needed, learning they were safe.
She would not stop worrying or praying, but she felt she could breathe a little easier now.
There would not be another call, not anytime soon, but she would be on the lookout for any new letters, and praying for the day it would be safe for them to come home.
__________________
Three weeks later, another letter was delivered to post office box number 3107, a number of no relevance to anyone who had purchased it. It was in a dark blue envelope, addressed to Delia O’Malley, again, a name no one would assume was affiliated with them.
When the letter and other mail was collected, it was not looked at until a few blocks away from the post office. At a red light, the envelope was opened carefully and all that was inside was one notecard with the words Thank you written in the middle, and a D at the bottom corner.
With a soft chuckle, Monica put the card back inside the envelope, beyond happy to know that it had worked. All the letters she had passed along had reached their destination and whatever was needed had been fulfilled. Looking out the windshield as she waited for the light to change, she smiled.
Wouldn’t John be thrilled when she told him tonight at dinner?