Work Text:
That arrogant, self-serving, son-of-a-bitch.
As he finished reading Scully's report, Skinner couldn't resist making the slightly melodramatic gesture of snorting and tossing the report on this desk with an air of contemptuous disregard.
He looked up at the two agents sitting in front of him, knowing that his face displayed nothing but his usual impassivity. At the same time, he was surprised to realize that the rage that had simmered just below the surface of his consciousness for the past several months could still surface with Vesuvian abruptness.
Narrowing his eyes, he contemplated Mulder for a long moment. In a decidedly erratic career, Mulder's past four days of ill-considered, potentially dangerous, and ultimately stupid behavior had just surpassed all of his previously incredibly rash and stupid maneuvers. This, at least, was Skinner's considered opinion, which was based on not insignificant experience.
It was no small achievement if you looked at it in a certain perverse way.
Mulder's obsession with determining what had happened to his sister was understandable. His head-long and reckless pursuit of even the most tenuous possibilities had already nearly brought him and the Bureau to disaster once this year. The fallout from the Roche incident had barely cooled to the half-life state of forgiven and almost-forgotten; and now Mulder pulled this.
Skinner knew that Mulder was convinced that there was a connection between his sister's disappearance and Scully's abduction, and that Scully's abduction was the root-cause of her cancer. Nevertheless, Mulder's behavior over the 72 hours of April 15-17 forced Skinner to consider an ugly possibility.
Could Mulder be so easily side-tracked by any vague promise of finding his sister that he would lose sight of the very critical short-term objective of finding everything possible that could save Scully? Could his personal quest overrule everything else in his life?
Was it possible that Mulder had failed to understand the significance of the near-framing of Skinner for the murder of Detective Thomas? Surely Mulder understood that despite Skinner's deal, there were no guarantees? That every avenue had to be explored and quickly? Skinner still believed that there were other ways, and Mulder was now the only one who could find them.
This was no time to test "unconventional" memory recovery treatments. There was only Scully and her losing battle. And Skinner had not forgotten, although perhaps Mulder had, how very near the edge Mulder had been when he thought he'd lost Scully before. Had her return made him complacent?
"....driving him more dangerously forward in impossible pursuits." Indeed. He wondered briefly if Scully knew about him and his deal and Mulder's partial involvement.
Giving himself a mental shake, Skinner turned back to the matter at hand. He was still an AD, however little he felt suited to the job these days, and Mulder's actions demanded, and deserved official discussion.
Skinner was not inclined to be lenient.
"Agent Mulder," he paused to make sure that he had the younger man's full attention. Apparently even Mulder had realized the full potential ramifications of his actions; he was as attentive and professional as Skinner had ever seen him.
"You had quite a weekend. While I appreciate that agents' free time is in fact their own, I cannot but suggest that you took a particularly ill-considered course of action in seeking treatment from Dr. Goldstein. For god's sake, Mulder, you're a trained psychologist. You know better than to allow someone to drill holes in your head!"
Skinner continued ruthlessly over what looked like a half-formed protest from the agent.
"Your personal medical decisions aside, there is the far more critical issue of protocol and common sense." He paused to glower.
"Based on Agent Scully's report of her assessment that you were suffering from shock when she arrived at the hotel in Providence, I am willing to accept that you might not have been in the best of condition to make rational decisions. However, that does not obviate the fact that once she arrived you systematically ignored the advice and recommendations of the person you called for help."
A single look prevented Scully from entering the conversation at this point.
"As soon as it became clear that the blood on your shirt was not your own and that two rounds were missing from your weapon, there is no question that you should have called me to inform me of a potential situation involving one of my agents, and you should have followed Scully's advice to seek medical treatment.
"The fact that my first notification of this case came when the Providence Police Department called me to inform me that one of my agents was being booked on suspicion of two murders does not even require comment."
Mulder shifted in his seat, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Good, let the bastard squirm a bit. He'd obviously had some time to consider the fool-hardiness of his actions, but certain lessons bore reinforcing.
"Then there is the issue of your actions in leaving Agent Scully at your mother's house." He paused to glance at Scully, who was looking straight ahead, a vaguely mutinous set to her jaw. Interesting. He had to admire her on-going loyalty to her partner, but he was beginning to wonder if perhaps it was misplaced.
"Your abandonment of your partner, coupled with your return to Dr. Goldstein for a continuation of treatments that had already caused you to be implicated in a murder investigation, demonstrates a state of mind that cannot be tolerated in a field agent." He was certain that he had both of their full attentions. He thought maybe Scully was holding her breath.
"Your actions, Agent Mulder, are clear grounds for reprimand, suspension, or even dismissal. Do I make myself clear?" Mulder nodded; apparently an Oxford education had taught him to recognize a rhetorical question when he heard one.
"Moreover, I find myself, for the first time, truly questioning the wisdom of allowing you and the X-files division the leeway you have so-far enjoyed. If your actions of the past several days, not to mention your actions of earlier this year in conjunction with John Lee Roche, are any indication of the ‘functioning' of the X-Files team, it is perhaps time for me to consider reassignment for one or both of you."
He was now certain that they were both holding their breaths.
"However, given the extenuating circumstances of your search for your sister, there may be some ...leeway in the range of actions that I will need to take. We will discuss this in a moment."
Skinner now turned to consider Scully.
"Agent Scully, I think I need to pose the same issue to you. Once it was clear that Agent Mulder had potentially been involved in an .... incident, why didn't you inform me?" He hoped the vague disappointment he heard in his tone would be taken as a general supervisory disappointment with a rogue agent.
Unlike Mulder, she never fidgeted. She straightened slightly and met his gaze, a faint challenge in her eyes. "Well Sir, I had fully intended to call you as soon as Agent Mulder and I returned from the Cassandras' cottage. Unfortunately, as you know from my report, Mulder had a seizure at the property, and then by the time we discovered the Cassandras' bodies and called the local police, my sole concern was for Agent Mulder's health. When the dust settled, the Providence PD had already called you.
"As you know, I left you a voicemail shortly after the Providence police contacted you." She left unsaid the fact that he'd never called her back after she'd left the message.
She looked down briefly, but met his stare again before continuing. "I am sorry, Sir, it was a major oversight. It will not happen again."
There was an odd undertone to her words that he'd have to decipher later. There were other issues to be dealt with.
"I'm sure it won't. I have one other question for you. Is this your final version of this report?"
"Yes, Sir." He could see the slight confusion in her eyes, along with a subtle wariness.
"You have nothing more to add?"
"No, Sir. I have provided all the details of the .... incidents of the past four days that I considered relevant and appropriate."
"I see. In that case would you care to explain to me why you failed to mention that seven rounds were discharged in the room that you and Agent Mulder were in two nights ago? I have the Quonochontaug police report here which indicates that the officers began their entry because they heard shots. Were none of these shots ‘relevant?'"
He noted Mulder's flinch out of the corner of his eye, but he was more interested in Scully's reaction.
He had to admire her calm and poise even under these circumstances. He thought he saw a delicate flush to rise on her face, though. "Well, Sir, it's true that Agent Mulder fired his weapon, but he was under the influence of a powerful hallucinogen.."
"Even more reason to note that you were potentially in danger here, Agent Scully. I still do not understand why you didn't include the fact that Mulder was threatening you with a loaded gun in your report."
"I was never in any danger," she glanced quickly over at Mulder, trying to reassure him, Skinner thought. "Agent Mulder would never have shot me. The shots he fired were purely a reaction...."
"While I appreciate the fact that you are a medical doctor, I was not aware that someone under the influence of a powerful hallucinogen could be predicted to behave, or not behave, in specific ways."
"No, Sir, but even under the influence..." she finally gave up. "Would you like me to rewrite the report, Sir?"
"That won't be necessary. Agent Scully, you are dismissed. Despite what I consider poor judgment on your part about when you finally contacted me, I do not feel that it is necessary to place an official reprimand in your record at this time." He was uncomfortably aware that she might think that the lack of a reprimand was made out of pity for the little time that she had left, but he truly did not think it warranted in this case.
"For the time being, there will be no change in the status of the X-files. However, Agent Mulder, I have a few other issues to discuss with you."
Oddly, Scully did not look to Mulder before exiting his office.
Turning back to the maverick agent, Skinner wondered briefly if Mulder already had some sense of what he was about to say. Hell, he probably did. Although Scully hadn't looked at him, Mulder had watched her walk out with a look of undisguised anguish in his eyes.
He rose to stand behind his desk - a less than subtle gesture, but one that he was sure would not be wasted on Mulder.
"We're running out of time. I just got a copy of her latest medical reports. I don't think she even knows this yet, but it would appear that the tumor is metastasizing." He noted the younger man's flinch with a tiny glimmer of satisfaction.
Mulder started to speak and then stopped, looking around, clearly wondering if the office was bugged.
Skinner waved tiredly at the agent. "I swept the office myself this morning." He left unsaid that the lack of surveillance on this office was probably more troubling than the presence of it.
"I'm sorry." The words were whispered, barely discernible from the chair where Mulder had slumped forward, his face cradled in his hands. "It's a form of psychosis - my obsession with Sam. I am a trained psychologist," he repeated the words with a bitter self-mockery. "I do know better, but...."
"We are running out of time," Skinner repeated the words because they were all he'd been able to think for the past six weeks. As they ran through his mind for the hundredth time that day, he couldn't help but wonder if Mulder had apologized to Scully for ditching her and then nearly killing her. He thought not, actually.
He leaned forward across his desk. "Mulder, I am....limited in what I can do here. You are not." He leaned back, his professionalism slipping effortlessly back in place. When had he become an actor? His tone crackled.
"Agent Mulder, although you have been exonerated of any involvement in the deaths of the Amy and David Cassandra, your actions during the past few days violated several important Bureau rules and protocols. Therefore, I am placing you on a 5-day suspension, beginning immediately. Please leave your service weapon and badge with me. I will see you in a week." He willed the younger man to hear the subtext. Take the time, it's a gift. Go find out what you can to help Scully.
Mulder looked up, his gaze sharpening. Skinner thought for a brief moment he was going to protest the suspension. Then the agent visibly relaxed.
"Yes, Sir. I'll be back in a week." He hesitated, then he rose, removed his gun and placed it and his badge carefully in front of Skinner. "Do you want to tell Scully, or should I?"
Skinner leveled his best no comment glare at Mulder and considered the options. It was clear that Mulder was suffering severe levels of guilt for having nearly shot Scully, and Skinner was under no illusions that it had been anything but a close thing despite Scully's assurances. He decided to be merciful.
"I'll tell her." He looked back down at the files on his desk, a clear sign that he was dismissing Mulder. As he heard the agent start to leave, he looked back up for a moment. "And Mulder? Use this time productively."
Mulder's retreating back stiffened, and he didn't turn around, but his voice held a new resolve. "Yes, sir."
Watching the door swing shut, Skinner found himself slumping back in his chair, releasing a tension he hadn't been aware that he'd carried though the meeting. There was so much at stake. They were close to the end game, he could feel it. There was no time to chase demons or make any more errors.
And Skinner had made a critical error, a couple weeks ago, he had to acknowledge. Firing the shots at the cigarette smoking bastard, satisfying though they had been, had been a mistake. Since that night in the bastard's room, the smoker had kept him on a much shorter leash.
He'd gotten yanked back on the his response to Mulder's weekend activities, certainly. Skinner had no sooner gotten off the phone with the Providence PD than the smoker had wandered into his office. "I do hope you weren't planning on leaving the DC area, Mr. Skinner."
"Surely you think others in the Bureau might notice if I failed to attend to such a serious matter myself?"
"Oh, I think a little overlooking can be arranged...."
So, of course, he hadn't gone to Providence or Quonochontaug two nights later, or returned Scully's phone call.
He didn't know how much longer he could walk this divided path. He had begun the journey, making the deal, with a clear understanding of his loyalties and what he needed to do. He'd known that ultimately the price for Scully's miracle would be more than he could pay. He'd just hoped against hope that he could survive long enough to help her.
He'd already lied, stolen, corrupted cases and even destroyed the body of an innocent victim. There was not much left to be asked of him before he broke completely, but it would be asked, he had no doubt.
If the smoker actually upheld his end of the deal, a possibility that seemed increasingly remote, the game might still be won.
All Skinner could do in the mean time was to try to keep Mulder from slipping over the ragged edge of insanity. He wondered, not for the first time, how Scully had managed to hang on all these years. But Mulder was the last, best hope.
Skinner hoped that Mulder would really use the week's suspension to....
The phone interrupted his thoughts.
"Skinner."
It was him, the chain smoking SOB. There was a new assignment.
END