TITLE: None So Blind (1/5)
AUTHOR: bcfan
FEEDBACK: bcfan@shaw.ca
RATING :strong NC-17 for disturbing content. Please heed the warning.
SPOILERS: post-episode, Fallen Angel
CATEGORY: X (casefile), M/S UST
SUMMARY: Child sexual abuse cases leave Mulder and Scully struggling for resolution.
NOTES at the end. 


Mulder leaned back in his desk chair, scratched around his ace bandage and sighed, 
shoulders slumping. Looking at his watch, he began drumming his fingers on the nicked 
wooden surface. Where was Scully? He carefully stood, balanced, and hopped on one
foot to the lights and doused them, ignoring the crutches leaning haphazardly against 
the wall. Just as he slid into his chair, Scully knocked and opened the door.

"Do you want me to switch on the lights, Mulder?"

"No, leave them."

"Another slideshow?"

"A video. I've got it set to the right spot. Could you turn it on?"
The television lit to a large, sinister, singing bag other misshapen creatures called  Oogie Boogie. 
Suddenly, a cascade of wriggling insects surged out when Oogie Boogie's seam was split.
Mulder grinned at Scully's surprised face. "Gross, huh?"

"Where did you get this? Isn't this the new Tim Burton film?"
Mulder nodded. "I've got some friends doing research for me. I asked them to find out about 
boogymen, and this was in the package. Must have snuck a camcorder into the movie theatre."

"You hang with a bad crowd, Mulder."
Scully's teasing focused Mulder's attention away from his throbbing ankle and firmly on his partner.
She looked rested and upbeat, he realized - a fizzy sparkle of champagne to his dull, flat beer. Would
they ever be on the same page? Mulder shuffled through his papers as Scully watched the rest of the
Oogie Boogie scene before switching off the t.v. She turned in her chair.

"Okay, why are you researching boogymen?"

"I've been doing some reading," he held up the National Enquirer and Scully softly moaned, "and there
ave been three disappearances in California in the last month. All children. And - this is the kicker - 
witnesses claim it was the boogyman who took them." 

"Witnesses?"

"None in one case. In another, the sibling of the victim. And in the third, it was a neighbour girl 
who heard a noise and looked out the window."

"Mulder, as sad as this is, children are hardly credible witnesses. Are you sure the missing
 children weren't runaways?"

"None of the three are over six. The National City police couldn't find any evidence. I spoke to 
Captain Ortega yesterday, and he asked me to consult." An expression of disquiet seemed to 
flit across Scully's face, so quickly he wasn't sure he'd really seen it. 

He paused. "Something wrong?"

Scully shrugged slightly. "National City, California?" He nodded. "I used to live in base housing 
near the San Diego Naval Station. National City is a bit further south."

"Good, you're familiar with the area. You'll have to do the driving."
Mulder snagged his crutches as he stood. "Our flight leaves in two hours."

Scully appeared troubled. Mulder knew the feeling - missing children cases were always the 
worst. But the concern in her eyes didn't stop her questions.

"I don't suppose it matters that you're supposed to be on desk duty," Scully asked, but began
to gather Mulder's file folders and notes.

"Nope. They need our help. Let's go catch us a boogyman."

xXx

Scully's first genuine smile of the day had been when he left the details of hotel booking up
to her. Since she knew the area, it made sense to delegate, Mulder thought. He relaxed as
Scully negotiated the route from San Diego airport to National City. As they passed the San 
Diego Naval Station, Scully spoke fondly of her childhood - hopscotch and skipping rope, tag 
after dark on a summer's night, swimming at the local beach.

"I made friends there and I still see some of them from time to time. All the families moved a 
lot, so we tried to keep in touch. I had four pen pals by the time I finished high school."

"I didn't know you were a Navy brat."

Scully smiled. "Yes, and San Diego was one of my favourite places. National City is close by,
but it always seemed like another world." Mulder understood what she meant. As he looked out 
the window, a public swimming pool and golf course were side by side with shabby apartments 
and run-down single homes. And car lots. Many, many car lots. "This isn't what you expect when
you think of California," he murmured.

"No," Scully agreed, "National City has urbanization and pollution problems without a strong median
income. I know the unemployment rate is above the state average. If someone decided to victimize 
children in an area without fear of reprisal, this would be a place to start."

"Not just someone, Scully. A boogyman."
Scully's expression warred between exasperation and amusement. "Do you know where the phrase, 
'Don't let the boogyman get you' was coined, Mulder? The tribal pirates of the south sea islands - 
whose commodities included kidnapped children - were called Boogymen. We're a long way from the 
south seas. Isn't it possible that we're looking for a human perpetrator?"

In his delight over Scully's repartee, Mulder couldn't stop the admiring, "You're turning me on here."
Scully ignored his comment. "My father's a naval captain. I've heard the stories - and their
explanations."

"I'm betting you were the kind of kid who always wanted an explanation."

"You'd win that bet."

Their car pulled to a stop in front of the National City Police Station. Mulder turned and hoisted 
his crutches out of the back seat. His lips tightened as he navigated the uneven sidewalk into the 
reception area.

"Captain Ortega?" Mulder nodded, as a neatly groomed man came out to meet them. "I'm Agent Mulder
 and this is my partner, Agent Scully."

"Come in and take a load off." Ortega stepped through the short hallway into his office, and Mulder sank 
gratefully into a chair.

"I called you yesterday, sir," Mulder began, "regarding the disappearance of three local children."

"Yes - and frankly, we're happy for the FBI's help. We've gotten nowhere with the cases, and we're 
not sure if they're even related."

"Captain," Scully leaned forward. "We've read your report. Would we be able to talk to the families?"
Ortega gave a helpless shrug. "Of course. All three families have been thoroughly investigated - there 
wasn't a hint of suspicion with any of them. However, I know the Parraz family has already moved on. 
They're migrant workers, and despite what happened, they gotta eat. I have a list of where they plan
to be in case we find their son, Tomas. They're very upset."

"And the others?"

"Mrs. Findlay comes in every day. She just stands in the lobby and cries. She's a young widow and
Jimmy is her only child. Mr. and Mrs. Andros live across town - they've got four kids, and little Richie
was their youngest. This is a terrible tragedy for us, Agents. Like I said, anything we can do to help, 
just let us know."

"Thank you, sir. We'll interview the parents, and see what we can find." Mulder rose, and smiled gratefully
 when Scully handed him his crutches.

"You know, Agent Mulder, I'm kinda surprised the FBI sent you out here when you're obviously injured."

"I have my own personal physician with me, Captain. Agent Scully is a medical doctor."

"Mighty handy. Here's a copy of the case files then. Good luck to you both." Ortega turned back to his 
desk, and Mulder began to count silently. They made it to the sidewalk before Scully turned.

"Mulder, Captain Ortega is right. How can you pursue an active investigation-"

"57."

"What?"

"It took 57 seconds for you to bring it up again. Look, Scully, I just have a strong feeling we
can help." He held out his foot and flexed it slightly. "My ankle's better already. You can have 
a look at it tonight - you'll see."

Scully's lips thinned. "Fine. You call ahead to make sure someone's home."

xXx

A late-afternoon blue sky contrasted with dingy grey siding and a trash-strewn yard of 
the sagging rancher. Mulder stood behind Scully as she rapped on the door.
The door opened - and Mulder looked down, curious, when Scully remained silent.
Mulder stuck out his hand. "Mrs. Findlay? I'm Special Agent Mulder and this is my-"

"Dana?" The woman sounded shocked.

"Mary." Scully leaned in and gave her a quick hug, then turned to Mulder, her face 
flushed with surprise. "Mulder, this is one of my childhood friends, Mary Callahan. Are 
you Mary Findlay now?"

"Yes, yes. Please come in. Are you - are you here about my Jimmy?" She clutched Scully's 
arm as they were led inside and sat around a dusty coffee table. Mulder peered at Mary 
with apologetic eyes, but it was Scully who spoke.

"We don't know anything yet." Mary sagged, and Scully gave her shoulder a brief squeeze.
"As Agent Mulder mentioned on the phone, we're FBI agents. We want to help you find out 
what happened to your son."

Mary nodded, swallowed back tears. Her unkempt hair and careworn face made her look 
years older than Scully. This was what grief did.

Mulder watched as Scully gently led Mary through a series of questions. Nothing new, and 
his attention wandered to a child's photo on the wall. He stood and used his crutches to 
maneuver as he carefully touched the edge of the frame.

"That's my Jimmy. He was three when this was taken, but he's four now."
He nodded, recognizing Jimmy from the police file. Mulder examined the picture with careful eyes, 
trying to understand why Jimmy had been chosen. Was there anything special or different? Jimmy 
looked like a thousand other towheaded preschoolers, but with a smile a little shyer than most,
more tentative.

"Do you mind if I have a look at Jimmy's bedroom? Is it this way?" At Mary's nod, Scully stood.

"Let's go in the kitchen, Mary. I remember how much you liked ice tea."

"Thank you, Dana." She trailed after Scully. Mulder went down the narrow hall into the child's 
room. He stopped short, catching his breath. The room echoed that long-ago feeling of a shrine 
which still had the power to haunt him.

Jimmy's bed was neatly made, his toys aligned with military precision on the low shelf. Two 
picture books were waiting for their small owner on his nightstand. Mulder picked up the top 
one - Goodnight Moon. Happy sleep stories contrasted cruelly with the reality of abduction.

Mulder examined the window ledge, even though the trail was a week old. He peered out, startled 
to see a small, solemn-eyed girl staring back from the next house. Mulder smiled, and the girl
immediately disappeared.

He was carefully maneuvering towards Mary Findlay's subdued voice when the conversation
stopped him in his tracks.

"Do you remember how we used to tease each other about the boogyman, Dana?"
Mulder's pulse quickened. He leaned closer to hear Scully's reply.

"We liked to scare ourselves silly, didn't we? I remember throwing rocks at a haunted house 
near the base, too."

Mulder entered the kitchen. Scully and Mrs. Findlay sat next to each other, heads bent together 
over a photo album.

"Did I hear something about a boogyman?"

Scully shot him an even look. "We were talking about our childhood superstitions, Mulder, when 
we both lived in base housing." She stood. "I promise that we'll keep in touch, Mary, and let you
know if we learn anything at all. Here's my card if you need to contact me."

Mulder stood in the doorway. "One more thing, Mrs. Findlay. I was wondering if the little girl I just
 saw through Jimmy's window was the witness Captain Ortega mentioned?" Mrs. Findlay nodded.
"I'd like to speak to her. Are you friendly with her family?"

"Yes." She nodded again.

"Would you mind calling next door and seeing if it's okay?"

They said their goodbyes after the brief phone call. Mulder looked at Scully, curious, as they
 crossed the yard. "Why were you in such a hurry to leave?"

Scully looked surprised. "I wasn't. There doesn't seem to be anything else we can learn from 
Mary at this point."

"Odd that Mary should mention the boogyman."

"Simply a coincidence," Scully replied as she knocked on the door.

The door opened before Mulder could inform her that he really didn't believe in coincidences, but
he swallowed his frustration. Moments later they were in a living room that was the mirror image
of the Findlay home. Worry lines on the neighbour's face deepened at the mention of Jimmy's name.

"Sarah, sweetie," her mom put calming hands on her daughter's shoulders, "tell these FBI agents what
you saw."

"Nuthin'."

Mulder tried to see Sarah's eyes through a curtain of dark hair and failed.

Sarah's mother gave her shoulders a small shake. "Speak up, Sarah. This is important."

Mulder noticed that Sarah seemed to be edging away from him. He was a stranger to her - 
a strange man - after Sarah had already been exposed to the bad things a strange man could
do. He asked quickly, "Do you mind if Agent Scully and I speak to Sarah in her room? I'd like to 
look through her window."

"Sarah, would you like to show Fox and Dana your collection of ponies?"

Mulder distanced himself behind Scully and Sarah's mom as the little girl led them down the hall. 
He turned toward the window, saw nothing unusual. Scully sat on the bed and smiled at the girl.
Sarah threw open her toy chest lid and dropped her multicoloured pony collection next to her on 
the yellow quilt.

"Here's Rainbow and Daisy and Buttercup and Gumdrop." Sarah solemnly pointed out each pony's 
name and Scully touched their manes.Mulder held out his crutches. "Want to see how these work?"

After a quick glanced at her mom for reassurance, Sarah carefully held each one, stuck her arms 
through the hand grips, and began to swing her legs as she balanced. Her serious face relaxed
into a smile. "This is fun."

After a few minutes of play, Scully patted the spot on the bed next to her. "Sarah, can I talk to you?"
Sarah nodded, dropped the crutches to the floor, and hopped up beside Scully. Mulder nodded to the
mother, hoping for silence. Sarah's mom nodded back and crossed her arms.

Scully bent low, spoke quietly. "Did you see someone when Jimmy was taken?"

Sarah whispered conspiratorially, "It was the boogyman."

Mulder watched their interchange, saw acceptance and empathy in Scully's face despite her
doubts. Scully was good with kids, he realized. Something he hadn't known about her.

"Why are you sure it was the boogyman, Sarah?"

"When I seen him before, Rosa said it was the boogyman."
Scully spoke calmly. "Where did you see him?"

"At the park. He was staring and he wouldn't stop. We told Mrs. Nanny, but she said he wasn't
a stranger, and that we should go play on the swings." 

Mulder looked at Sarah's mom and said, "Mrs. Nanny?"

"Sarah attends a play group at the community centre three times a week. Jimmy Findlay is in 
her group. They take the kids to the park, and Mrs. Nanny is one of the volunteers."
Scully continued. "Was Jimmy at the park that day?"

Sarah's brow wrinkled. "I dunno."

"Can you tell us what the boogeyman looks like, Sarah?"

"I gots a picture."

Mulder shared a surprised look with Scully and Sarah's mom. Sarah hopped off the bed
stuck her head and arms inside her toy chest. She straightened, holding a wrinkled crayon
drawing in her hand. Sarah passed it to Scully, who smoothed the picture on her knee.
Mulder leaned forward. They stared at the black crayon scribble, which was roughly 
body-shaped. Two red slashes near the top were the only touch of colour on the page.

Scully asked, "Can you tell me about this picture?"

"That's the boogyman."

Scully pointed to the red marks. "What's this?"

"Those are his eyes."

"He looks really scary."

"He is."

Scully nodded. "I'm going to sit still, and I want you to tell me everything that happened 
the night Jimmy was taken. Can you do that, Sarah?"

Sarah's small face creased with worry, and Scully hesitated - then drew her badge out 
of her pocket.

"Would you like to hold this when you tell us, Sarah?"

A shy smile and nod and Sarah spoke so quietly it was almost to herself. "I'm not supposed 
to tell big people, but I can tell you cause you're police."

Scully solemnly handed Sarah her badge. She nervously traced the metal with her fingers 
as she talked about a bad man who was "real big and black. All over." The same bad man 
whom she saw lifting Jimmy out of his window and away into the night.

"I was scared, real scared." Sarah clutched the badge harder. "Mommy says to stay in bed, 
and I didn't. I looked. I ran back to bed and hid under the covers so the boogyman wouldn't 
see me."

Mulder felt a hint of something close and had to ask, "Sarah, you said before that you're not 
supposed to tell big people about the boogyman. How come?"

Sarah put her head down, began to swing her legs and kick the bed.

Mulder tried again. "Who else knows about the boogyman?"

"Everybody. We gots to be careful."

"Sarah-" Her mother sounded exasperated, but it didn't stop her child's concern.

"Are you gonna find Jimmy?"

Mulder retrieved his crutches and stood as Scully pocketed her badge. "We hope so, Sarah. 
We're going to try as hard as we can."

xXx

Mulder scrubbed his hands over his face. Scully's grim silence as she drove to the Andros 
family interview revealed a woman who was shutting down her feelings. Mulder could almost 
hear the drawbridge clanging shut.

The coincidence of Scully and her friend's shared boogyman memories niggled at his brain too.
Mulder had just started to hope that Scully was the genuine article, not sent to spy on him,
but to be a real partner. He wasn't sure how he'd feel if Scully refused to share information. 
Damn it, he thought, Scully has to pull with me on this.

Mulder switched off the radio. He ignored Scully's glare. "It must have been quite a shock to 
see an old friend."

"I'm fine." Scully's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

He listened to the hum of wheels on pavement for a moment, thinking. "Look, Scully. I can't 
operate in the dark here. I need all the information you have about Jimmy's mother and this
area, but you're not talking to me. You seem upset."

"I admit it was - unexpected - to meet someone I used to know."

"I thought it might be hitting a little too close to home. But this could also be to our
advantage - we're not coming into this case cold. Anything you can remember could be useful."
Scully shrugged. "I don't know how. Mary Callahan was in my fourth grade class, and we were 
friends until I moved away when I was twelve.

She was always so happy and full of confidence. Mary told me her husband was killed in a
car accident - and now to have this happen to her son."

"Were you and Mary close?"

"We lived next door to each other. Proximity makes friendships at that age. I spent a 
lot of time at her house, mainly to get away from my siblings." Scully smiled faintly.
"I haven't seen Mary in more than fifteen years."

"And your talk about the boogyman?"

Scully's lips thinned. "That's all it was, Mulder - talk. Children externalize their fears. You're 
a psychologist so you know that better than anyone."

Mulder made a non-committal noise, hoping she'd continue.

She did. "We're here to catch a real kidnapper. Jimmy's disappearance is all too real." Her voice rose.
"And if we're being honest, I thought it was inappropriate that you questioned Mary about childhood 
fantasies at all."

Mulder held up his hands in mock surrender. "I didn't exactly question her, Scully. And if we're being
 honest, you have to know that I'm just being me. Trying to find out as much as possible. Besides - 
there are no inappropriate questions in a crime scene investigation."
Silence, and a brief nod of agreement.

"We still have a forty minute drive, Mulder. Could you please turn on the radio?"

"What would you like to hear? Some funkadellic boogy down music?"

A slight smile, and Mulder was grateful for eased tension the rest of the trip.

xXx

Hours later, after a fruitless interview and a quick meal, they checked into their well-appointed 
motel. They hadn't learned anything new at the Andros house. Just another confused and hurting 
family, with nothing to hide, no answers, and not a single witness. Another exercise in futility.
Mulder leaned against the headboard of the queen size bed, files strewn around him and ankle 
propped up on a pillow. Sweats and a t-shirt and he was good to go.

He wasn't expecting the knock when it came. Scully had still seemed ill at ease during dinner, 
and had firmly stuck to small talk. Scully entered with her medical bag in one hand and a cane 
in the other. Mulder sat straighter, pleased.

"Where'd you get that, Scully?"

"You said your ankle was better today, so I arranged for delivery. I'll help you with your
range of motion exercises, and then you can try it out."

"Thanks."

She smiled briefly, put her bag on the bed, and eased off the tensor ankle brace.

"You're right, Mulder. This is looking better. Can you bend and straighten your ankle?"

Mulder tried twice. It felt stiff and sore, but not as bad as yesterday. Not as much
swelling and bruising, either.

"How about rotating it?"

Mulder showed what he could do. "What next?"

"Three things. When you use the cane, try stepping straight down. Pushing steadily with 
your foot will prevent your ankle from moving too much at first. You'll know when you can 
put more weight on it. Second, continue the exercises you just did to loosen up your ankle."

"Sounds good."

"One more thing - your ankle should be massaged once a day to break down scar tissue, or 
you might have recurring problems."

Mulder blinked, felt slightly queasy as feelings of dislike at being touched warred with feelings
of confusion at his partner touching him. He clenched his jaw against flippant comments until
he noticed Scully's discomfort. She's being a professional and a friend, he realized. What kind 
of asshole does that make me to take it the wrong way? He looked at her, serious. "Thanks, Scully."

Scully shrugged. "No problem. I'll have to concentrate my effort at the direct point of injury, and 
use my thumbs to get in as deep as possible to break down the scar tissue. Let me know if it's too 
painful."

"Okay."

Mulder leaned back and closed his eyes, lacing his hands behind his head. Scully massaged his 
ankle using some kind of ointment with lighter, then firmer strokes. Scully gradually increased the 
pressure, and he was silent until he couldn't prevent a small grunt of pain.

Scully straightened. "That's enough for tonight." She tapped his calf before moving away from him 
on the bed. Mulder grabbed a pillow and stuck it behind his head.

"I have an idea about our case, Scully."

"Oh?"

"Sarah said she's not supposed to tell big people about the boogyman but that everyone knows
about him. He's become a part of kid culture - and like any kid culture, no one's listening because
interpreted from a adult's perspective, it's a fantasy."

"Someone abducted those kids, Mulder. If there's an underground knowledge of what's going on 
that no one out of grade school wants to talk about, I suggested we go to where the children are."

"Bingo." Mulder stood and tentatively began to pace the room, getting used to his cane. "Tomorrow 
we head to the community centre and the park - and I plan to ask Sarah to be our guide."


Continued in chapter 2