Scully frowned as she watched Mulder use his fork to push the food around on his plate. As far as she could tell, he hadn't eaten more than two bites of the steak he had ordered for dinner.
"You might as well give up, Mulder."
He looked up, not quite sure what she meant. "Give up what?"
"On eating. The steak is just getting cold."
He pushed the plate away. "I guess I'm not as hungry as I thought."
"Maybe that would change if you talked with John."
"I can't go to see him, Scully. You saw him at the hospital and heard what he had to say. Aside from his delusion that a "ghost" killed Joseph Thielen, there's the very real fact that he never once acknowledged the fact that we...well, he was cold."
"And there you sat, gushing over him and telling everyone what a wonderful night the two of you had spent together."
"I wasn't there to tell everyone about my love life, Scully," he snapped.
"And neither was he. Did it ever occur to you that he thought you were acting cold toward him? Maybe even condescending or dismissive? Mulder, he truly believed what he was telling us."
"And you're now a mind reader?"
"No. But, I can tell when someone believes what they're saying, and he believes it. If you weren't so closed minded about the paranormal, then maybe you would see that he might be telling the truth."
"Ghosts aren't real. Aliens are real."
She shook her head, wondering why she even bothered with trying to change his mind. For a man who was so quick to jump to outrageous conclusions on bizarre cases, he was now being so maddeningly stubborn on this. But, he had always told her that he didn't believe in ghosts. No, Fox Mulder believed in aliens and government conspiracies. He believed in werewolves and genetic freaks of nature. He believed in vampires and fairy rings. But, he did not believe in ghosts, end of story.
She grabbed the check, then went to pay the cashier. The sooner this case was over and they were back in Washington with everything back to normal, the better. They drove back to the hotel, neither one of them wanting to talk any more.
"I'll see you at breakfast, Scully," Mulder said as he unlocked the door to his room.
She pushed her door open and nodded at him. "Good night, Mulder."
Mulder didn't go into his room until he heard her lock her door, and then he stepped across the threshold, switching on the light as he closed the door. He turned around, then quickly reached for his gun as he saw a young black man sitting on his bed.
"That won't help you," the man said.
"Who are you? What do you want? How did you get in here?"
The man smiled. "So many questions, Agent Mulder. Or can I call you Fox?"
"Mulder is fine."
The man nodded. "You can call me Dennis. I'm here because I want to talk to you, and I just appeared in here. Any other questions?"
Mulder shoved his gun back into the holster. "Not yet. What do you want to talk to me about?"
"Not 'what', who. I want to talk to you about John Carter."
"Talk then." Mulder pulled a chair out from the table and sat down, making sure that he could easily reach his gun if he needed. Dennis would have to get past him in order to leave, and he was determined that Dennis wouldn't leave until he was ready for him to go.
"Bobby wanted to come to talk to you, but he used up so much energy dealing with Joseph Thielen that he couldn't manage it."
"Bobby as in Bobby Carter? John's dead brother and the one he claims killed Thielen?"
"The very one."
Then something else clicked in Mulder's brain. "You're Dennis Gant."
Dennis smiled. "That's correct."
"You're dead."
"Again, you're correct," Dennis; smile grew wider. "I can see why you're a FBI agent. You have the most remarkable powers of deduction that I've ever seen."
"You can stop it with the sarcasm. I don't believe in ghosts, therefore, it's impossible for you to be here. You are obviously a man who has been hired to play the part of Dennis Gant."
"Have I now? If that's true, then who hired me?"
Mulder shrugged. "I don't know. Clark Morgan, perhaps? After all, his career could be ruined if it gets out that he falsified records in order to conceal a murder. It could even be the Carter family. A drawn out murder investigation would have given the family a lot of media exposure and I'm sure they wouldn't like that."
"So it isn't possible that I really am Dennis Gant and am here to try to talk some sense into you?"
Mulder shook his head. "It's not."
Dennis literally rose up off the bed, hovering in the air a few feet above the mattress. Mulder remained calm.
"Optical illusion. You could be some type of holographic projection."
Dennis settled back upon the bed. "And would a holographic projection be able to tell you exactly what went on in that hotel room last night? I followed John to the bar and I followed the two of you to the other hotel. I was in the backseat of the car. I saw you kiss him out front. Shall I give you all the details of the night you spent with John?"
"That won't be necessary." Mulder was angry. He was used to the idea that he could be under surveillance at any time, but he didn't like having the consortium or others prying into his private business. "Just tell me who hired you? Spender? Krycek? A foreign government? Who?"
Dennis shook his head. "You are one stubborn fool, Fox Mulder. No one hired me. I'm simply what I appear to be -- a ghost. A ghost who is concerned for his best friend and what your investigation into the Thielen case is doing to him. And ever more importantly, what your disbelief of his story is doing to him. What would it take for me to convince you that I am a ghost? That I really am Dennis Gant?"
"I don't know." Mulder looked thought about it for a few moments. "Tell me how you died."
"I had gone through a bad night at work. I was scheduled to cover the ER after the night shift ended and I was feeling very stressed out. I thought that if I went out for a walk, then I might be able to clear my head. John had been acting strange for most of the night and we almost got into a fight. I had been having a huge personality conflict with Peter Benton, who was our teacher at the time. He had laid into me in the cafeteria in front of a lot of people. It embarrassed me. John agreed with me that Benton was out of line, so, feeling that I had endured enough of Benton's abuse, I went to see Donald Anspaugh, the Chief of Staff. He listened to my complaint and then as luck would have it, Benton happened to walk by. Anspaugh drew him into the discussion. Of course, he didn't feel he was out of line. We were at an impasse and then we saw John in the hallway. Anspaugh asked him if he thought Benton was out of line. John hesitated, then said that he wasn't. I was crushed. I thought that John would side with me. I never noticed the looks that John was giving Benton; all I cared about was the fact that I had been made to look like a fool in front of the head of the hospital. Anspaugh dressed me down. Later, John told me that he never thought I would go to Anspaugh. I told him to forget about it. By then, I was feeling numb. That's when I decided to get outside. I walked around for a little bit in the snow, then decided to go home and change into some dry clothes before starting my ER shift. I was standing on the platform waiting for the El and thinking about John. I knew he had horrible nightmares, but I had never spoken to him about them. I was thinking that maybe those were what had him behaving so strangely that night -- he had been having the nightmares all that week. As the train neared the platform, someone pushed me to the tracks and I was hit by the train."
Dennis paused. This was the first time that he had ever had to tell someone what had happened that morning. All the other souls knew the story.
"Benton and John worked on me, but they weren't able to save me. After I died, a boy approached me. He said he was Bobby Carter, John's older brother. I knew about Bobby because John talked about him a lot. Even after all these years, he missed him. Bobby told me that John had been romantically involved with an older doctor at the hospital -- a woman who was not only one of our teachers, but Benton's teacher as well. She was scheduled to leave that day for Pakistan and in the early morning hours had managed to get some private time with John. And Benton walked in on them. John had been afraid that if he backed me against Benton, then Benton would say something to Anspaugh about John and the other doctor, thereby ruining her career. Bobby also told me about Joseph Thielen and the fact that he had molested not only him, but also John and their cousin Chase. That had been the cause of John's nightmares. Bobby said that Thielen had made John believe that he had killed Bobby because John had told him about the abuse. I can't imagine what it was like for John to have lived with that kind of guilt for all of these years. After Thielen died and Bobby assured him that it was a lie, John had been so relieved. And then he had to find out that it was Thielen who pushed me in front of the El. And he's now living with that guilt. I guess that you can empathize with John on that, right? You've been feeling guilty about Samantha's abduction for all of these years."
"How do you know about Samantha?"
"I know because I'm dead. I know a lot. I hear and see a lot, Mulder. Look, Bobby and I conspired together to kill Thielen and bring him to the highest justice possible. His soul is now burning in Hell and he'll never haunt or hurt anyone else. Clark Morgan knew that he couldn't charge a ghost with murder and he also knew that he couldn't write the truth in his report. So, he managed to convince his Captain that Thielen committed suicide. The case was closed and everyone was happy with the outcome. Everyone that is except for Dwight Evans. He's an honorable man, and I'm sure that if he knew the truth, then he would agree that the case was handled in the best manner possible. He wasn't out to ruin Clark Morgan. When he called the FBI, he was doing so because he truly wanted to right a wrong. I'm going to go see him next. I don't think he'll want you and Dana Scully here once I leave his apartment."
"Do you intend to threaten him?"
Dennis looked at him levelly. "I intend to tell him the truth. The same truth I've told you. The truth is out there, Agent Mulder. Isn't that the motto you live your life by? Even when the truth is painful, such as finding out that your most hated enemy is in reality your father? Think about it, Mulder. And if you find yourself believing that there really are ghosts, then tell that to John. Just don't tell him that I was here. It would hurt him even more to know that you only believed him because a ghost had to convince you of the truth. He wanted you to believe him without any interference from the spirit world."
Dennis rose up off the bed again, then floated through the wall. Mulder jumped up from the chair and opened the door, but he didn't see anyone at all in the parking lot. Nor did he see any cars speeding away. He closed the door, then went over to the bed, feeling the spot on the covers where Dennis Gant had been sitting. There was no indentation there, no sign that anyone had sat there at all. The only thing that told him that something had been there was the fact that the blanket was ice cold. With a frown, Mulder sat back down at the table. He had a lot to think about.
Dawn came finding Mulder still at the table. And the only big realization he had come to was that he needed to see John at least one more time. Needed to tell him he was sorry and that he cared about him. However Mulder was so afraid that John would shrug off those words and turn his back on him. A knock on his door roused Mulder from his seat and he opened it without first looking to see who was there.
"You look like Hell," Scully said as she stepped into Mulder's room.
Mulder sat back in the chair. "Thank you. I feel like Hell, too. I had...a visitor last night."
"John Carter?" Scully asked, hopeful that the man had come by and that all was settled between him and her partner. Although, judging by the grim look in Mulder's eyes, if John had been there, then nothing had been settled.
"Dennis Gant, Junior." Mulder evenly replied.
"Dennis Gant, Junior as in the man who died several years ago? The owner of the gun?" Scully asked as she closed the door.
"The very same."
"Oh." Scully sat down on the foot of the bed. "So you had a visit from a ghost?" She asked, a smile playing around her lips.
"I did. And he sat right where you're sitting."
Scully shivered but she didn't move. "So, he changed your mind?"
Mulder shrugged but Scully's unwavering stare made him nod. "He did. I believe him. I believe what John said, too. I just...I don't know how to tell him, Scully. Gant said that I shouldn't tell John about his visit, that John needs to believe that I believe John without any outside interference." Mulder ran a hand over his eyes. "I hate lying to John, but Gant is right. John would be even more hurt to find out that I had to be visited by a ghost before I would believe him."
"Okay," Scully nodded. "I can see your point. So what's the problem? You go to John and you tell him that you believe him and that we're recommending that the case remain closed."
"We're recommending that?" Mulder asked.
"Of course we are. You go to him and tell him and then ask him to forgive you for not immediately believing him. Hell, Mulder, get down on your knees and..." Scully grinned wickedly "beg him or something. I'd like for you to leave Chicago a happy man."
"I'd like that, as well, but I don't think John will see me."
"Try him. You've got all his numbers, Mulder. Call the man and tell him you need to talk to him -- personally and not professionally. Don't take 'no' for an answer, either."
Mulder nodded, knowing Scully was right. He needed to see John, needed to tell him that he believed John's story about what had happened to Joseph Thielen. Needed to get down on his knees and beg his forgiveness while he was sucking the life out of John through his cock. Mulder grinned. Yes, he could do all that...and more.
"I'll call him. So, are we leaving in the morning?" Mulder got to his feet and walked over to the nightstand by the bed, moving the phone to the mattress.
"How about the day after that? I wouldn't mind taking in some sights while here and we're both due some time off. I think Skinner will understand. I'll call him and get us an extra day one way or another." Scully headed for the door. "Good luck." She left for her room to call Walter Skinner and Mulder fished John's card out of his pocket, then dialed the number for the ER. One way or another he'd get John to listen to him. Get John to forgive him so that he could leave a happy man behind in Chicago.
To be continued
Copyright Footer', 'This site is not affiliated in any way with "ER", its writers or production company, or NBC, and makes no profit from the show. The ERROS skin is by Brihana. The script is eFiction version 3.4.2© Tammy Keefer, http://efiction.org\r\n