It Knows You (Part One)

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Title: It Knows You (Part One)
Author: Rev. Anna < rev_anna_ts@hotmail.com or anna_ts@juno.com >
Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, Skinner, Colton and Father McCue belong to
Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox TV. Ezekiel Stone and Father
Horn have been banished to cancellation hell by their short sighted
owners (the creeps know who they are!). I don't own any of them I'm
just making good use of them.
Rating: PG-13
Thank Yous: To Roseanne, Dean of Crossover and Fantasy at XFU whose
presence gave me the courage to start posting my XF fanfic in the first
place. The original version of this story was posted there on May 1,
1999. I've made changes in this version to get the chronology of events
in Mulder's life correct. (It's easy to slip up when writing a story in
season two when you've got four more seasons of information at your
fingertips!)
Summary: When the evil encountered in The Calusari comes after Mulder,
help comes from an unexpected source from AD Skinner's past.
Spoilers: The Calusari, Avatar, Ghost In The Machine, Young At Heart,
Anasazi, Talitha Cumi,

Mulder didn't scare easily, but the look in the old guy's eyes had truly
frightened him. What he had witnessed in Charlie Holvey's hospital room
had terrified him. Demon possession wasn't his favorite type of
paranormal encounter to begin with and now that he was more likely to be
targeted, he liked it even less.

He rubbed his hand over his mouth remembering this morning in his
apartment. It wasn't anything he wanted to repeat.

He had woken up, washed up, gone about getting dressed as he did
everyday. Nothing was out of the ordinary, yet there seemed to be a
heaviness all around him. He had first noticed it in the bathroom but
just thought it was the steam from the shower. By the time he had
gotten to the kitchen he couldn't catch his breath.

He moved to the window but couldn't get it open. The exertion had him
gasping. He ripped the knot from his tie, desperate to get some air.
His vision had gotten blurry and his head was throbbing. He wasn't sure
but he thought he heard someone laughing behind him.

He moved unsteadily to the living room. With his eyes closed, he headed
from memory to the desk and the window beyond. He couldn't get it up
either.

His head slumped against the cool glass panes as he fell to his knees.
Then he thought he heard the voice again.

A heaviness settled on his shoulders, pushing him down on his back. A
crushing weight settled on his chest, pressing down, harder, heavier. He
opened his mouth, gasping, gulping, trying to remain conscious but going
under, away.

He couldn't be sure if he had said it aloud or merely in his head. With
one last painful surge of air, he closed his eyes and shouted again.

And just as suddenly air was surging around him, chilling him. Another
voice was in his ears. A hand was beneath his head, gently lifting,
smoothing wet strands of hair from his forehead. He opened his eyes and
saw Scully, worried, in doctor mode.

He looked at Scully now, wondering if he should say anything to her, but
she hadn't been too talkative these last few days. Maybe this case had
shaken her up more than she wanted to admit too.

He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the case file
before him.

Scully glanced surreptitiously at her partner, not wanting him to catch
her eye. She had a feeling he wanted to ask her a question she didn't
want to hear.

Finding him gasping, semi-conscious on the floor of his apartment this
morning, she had thought he was having some kind of attack. His words
made it clear he thought he was being attacked. She didn't know who was
right. She didn't want to know. His words had brought all the images
flooding back.

She didn't want or need to be reminded of what she had seen and
experienced in that house. It shattered everything she believed about
the physical world, as she knew it. It dragged her back to the
teachings of her upbringing; teachings about things unexplainable,
unproveable. It dragged her back and made her face things that had to be
believed just 'because'. The hated world of 'because' and 'it just is.'

She cleared her throat, looking around for a glass of water she knew she
had yesterday. Not finding it she turned her attention back to the
autopsy report before her.

The phone rang. The ringing was breaking through the silence that
neither wanted broken. Both agents rushed to answer it. Scully got to
it first.

"Scully..." She nodded her head, listening attentively. Mulder already
knew it was Skinner by the way she had snapped to attention. He wondered
sometimes what his partner felt about their boss.

"Yes sir . . . yes sir . . . I realize that sir, but--- . . . Yes sir .
=2E . Right away sir . . . I'll be right there."

Mulder nodded, putting his eyes back on the file folder in his hands.
She turned and went to the door.

She finally looked at him with a sadness he hadn't seen or felt around
her since her father died. She turned around and faced him fully.

"Mulder-some things I--I just find it hard to talk about -- because I
find it hard to believe them . . . I don't want to believe them."

He watched her leave, then shuddered as he heard the voice from this
morning asking its question again.

A chill ran through him as he sensed a heaviness in the office. He
pushed away from the desk and rushed to the door. The knob wouldn't turn
in his hand. He shook it, twisted it. No luck. The heaviness was on him
again. He couldn't breathe. He began banging on the door, screaming for
help.

He turned to go back to the desk but was pushed back hard against the
door and held there, as if by a heavy hand at the base of his throat. He
grunted, trying to push away but couldn't get up. He could feel his
lungs collapsing; his eyes burned as tears of pain welled up and spilled
down his cheeks.

His head was throbbing. He couldn't see. He could feel himself slowly
slipping down to the floor. The laughing from this morning was back.

He slumped hard to the floor, falling over on his stomach, his face
resting on its left side. Through his gasping and wheezing, he heard
something hard thump along side him. His hand reached over and felt his
cell phone. It had fallen out of his pocket. He gripped it, turning it
on. He felt himself being rolled onto his back as he pressed the button
he thought was two, praying he wouldn't pass out before it was answered.

"I can't, sir. I've written what I experienced. As much as I don't
want to believe it, I can't deny what I saw. I can't deny what happened
to me."

"It won't be in his report. He wasn't there, sir. He doesn't even know
about what happened to Mrs. Holvey and me. I--I haven't been able to
talk to him about it yet."

"I can't, sir. I know I've behaved unprofessionally toward my partner
by withholding this information." She looked hard at Skinner's tough AD
exterior, trying to find the ally she knew he really was.

"I--I don't want to believe I went through it. I can't explain it and I
can't ignore it. But I don't want to believe it. I don't want to."

Her eyes were pleading with him. Pleading for what she didn't know.
Understanding? Patience? She closed her eyes to keep the tears from
falling.

Skinner came over and sat in front of her just as his phone rang. Kim
had already gone home, so he picked up.

He couldn't make out the rasping on the other end. His eye caught the
look of concern on Scully's face. Something tickled at the back of his
neck.

Scully sat up straight as Skinner hit the speaker button and they
listened to the wheezing together. Scully jumped up, recognizing the
sounds her partner had made this morning.

Mulder knew he was on his back, immobile, pinned down like a butterfly
in a glass case. Something, someone was on him, pushing him out of his
body. Pushing, pressing, shoving, pulling.

But he wouldn't go. Refused to go. Suddenly a banging noise caught his
attention. Scully and Skinner. He could hear them on the other side of
the door. Skinner, shouting, worried.

Mulder opened his mouth, lips moving, like a fish on dry land gasping
for water. He opened his eyes and thought he saw something. A
diaphanous, shimmering shape. The pressure on his chest increased. The
pain was excruciating. He couldn't hear Scully or Skinner anymore over
the roar in his ears.

Some kind of mist seemed to be shrouded over Mulder's head and chest.
Skinner's eyes quickly scanned the room and saw a glass half full on a
file cabinet. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Scully start forward.
He grabbed her, pulling her back into the hallway.

Scully could hear him but she was frozen, her eyes frozen on the sight
of her immobilized partner. Skinner squeezed her arm, causing her to
wince. Instinctively she started to pull away but he slapped her hard,
jerking her head to the right.

She gasped, startled more by the frantic plea she heard in his voice
than by his shoving or slapping her. She ran down the hallway, her
heart beating so hard she could feel it in her throat. She slipped
against the wall, skinning her knee. She cried out in fear and pain,
slapping the button incessantly.

"Demon, be gone!" he shouted, flinging the water into the heart of the
mist. A horrendous screeching filled the office and a whirlwind blew
books, papers, anything not nailed down around the room.

Scully looked back. The horrific sound of the screeching coursed
through her veins like ice water. Tears began falling as she swore,
pushing the button, bruising her the heel of her palm.

Skinner grabbed Mulder, threw him over his shoulder and rushed back out
the office just as the elevator came.

She stumbled forward. Turning she saw Skinner with Mulder over his
shoulder running as fast as he could.

Frozen again, Scully shook her head at the horrendous sight before her.
Behind Skinner a whirlwind was swirling behind them, spectral fingers
ominously reaching for the two men.

"GET BACK! GET BACK!" Skinner shouted, simultaneously throwing Mulder
and himself in through the narrow opening, just as the doors closed.

Scully threw her arms out as Mulder's and Skinner's bodies came crashing
into her, all 385 pounds of them slamming her into the back of the
elevator like an angry fist in her solar plexus. Her head bounced hard
on the floor as she fell, the wind leaving her lungs in one shuddering
whoosh.

She turned her head and caught sight of Skinner slamming his fist
against the emergency stop button. She grimaced, trying to catch her
breath as she watched her boss slump down into the corner, gasping. She
could see blood trickling from his nose.

Outside Scully could hear cursing. It wasn't English but she knew it. A
terrible scratching and banging assaulted the doors of the elevator.
Scully covered her ears to close out the sounds that were curdling her
blood. She found herself shaking uncontrollably as if by some cold
arctic wind.

A loud, horrific shout rose up, followed by a deafening, deadly silence.
Only the elevator alarm was still sounding.

Scully closed her eyes, grabbing her stomach. She looked over at
Mulder, moaning as he slowly came to consciousness, then at Skinner with
his eyes closed, panting through his mouth. She watched him pull a
handkerchief out of his pocket and press it to his nose.

Opening his eyes Skinner pressed the alarm button, shutting it off. He
looked at her and saw a red hand print where he had slapped her.

Her face showed she was confused. He pointed to her face. Her hand went
up to her cheek.

"Oh. That." She smiled weakly, trying to make a joke. "I guess I'll
feel it in the morning."

"Where am I?" He looked from Scully to Skinner, then winced as he
grabbed his chest. "What happened?"

Skinner crawled over to his agents. He placed a hand on Mulder's
shoulder, gently forcing him to stay on his back.

"An ugly bit of evil I didn't think existed anymore," he answered.
"Leave it to Mulder to force it out into the open."

He looked at Mulder lying on his back. The elevator phone began to
ring. Skinner crawled back over to it and picked up as Scully helped
Mulder to a sitting position.

"No, we're all right. Don't do anything to move this elevator . . . You
heard me right. No one's hurt . . . No, I don't need an ambulance. Now
listen to me carefully. Don't let anyone come down here. I repeat no
one is to come to the basement floor. Understand? . . . I don't give a
damn what you have to do to make sure that doesn't happen. Make sure no
one comes down here! Do I make myself clear? . . . Good. Now take down
the number I'm about to give you and ask for Ezekiel Stone. Tell him
an old soul he and Walter Skinner both know well has reappeared . . .
That's what I said 'old soul' and be sure to use those words. He'll
know what it's about . . . That's right . . . No. Only Stone is to come
down here . . . Look, stop asking questions, take down the damn number
and do what I say!"

Mulder and Scully listened and watched Skinner quietly. Neither had
noticed that Scully was cradling Mulder's head in her lap.

"Well now," he said, "Seeing it's how we're not going anywhere for
awhile, why don't we all start at the beginning to see how the hell we
got here in the first place."

"Ezekiel saw the wheel, way up in the middle of the air
Ezekiel saw the wheel, way in the middle of the air"

"Oh now really. If you must sing, why not some Gershwin? You
know=85something like=85 It Ain't Necessarily So. That Sportin' Life
character got it right,

Ezekiel Stone glanced in the rear view mirror at the complaining demon
in the back seat and went on singing.

"The big wheel run by day and the little wheel run by the grace of God
A wheel in a wheel, way in the middle of the air."

The devil shuddered at the mention of the Almighty. Ezekiel smiled,
putting his attention on the road before him.

"I'm here to register an official complaint, Ezekiel. I consider this
step you're taking a violation of our arrangement."

Stone glanced back at the devil. "And just what part of our arrangement
is it violating?"

"You are only supposed to go after the escapees. Not stage reunions
with old acquaintances."

Stone didn't answer. The devil leaned forward and poked him in the back
of the head.

"Don't think you can ignore me. I will be heard. You are here in D.C.
to do my bounty hunting, not go off freelancing to do a good turn;
especially not for someone who knows you're not alive."

"He knew me. I couldn't exactly tell him it didn't happen now could I,
seeing it's how he attended my wake and my funeral."

"Stop it. I always felt had arranged to bump into him on purpose. I
could sense real joy in you when you saw him; not that sloppy longing
called love that fills you up when you're thinking of your wife."

Stone took the next corner more sharply than he had to, throwing the
devil hard against the seat.

Mulder didn't know what hurt more - the pain in his chest or knowing
that Scully hadn't wanted to tell him about the events in the Holvey
house. He moved away from her as she relived it for them.

"Mrs. Holvey was suspended above my head, stuck against the wall and the
ceiling like an insect trapped on flypaper. It was so dark in there,
but it wasn't dark enough to hide that from me. The windows shattered
and a force of some kind threw me into a corner. Before I could pull
myself together, I was cowering before the boy with the knife upraised.
I just knew I was dead for sure when suddenly the knife dropped and only
a pile of ash remained behind."

"And while this is going on, you're taking part in an exorcism being
performed on this boy by the Calusari." Skinner said, looking at Mulder.

"I've never experienced anything like it," Mulder said, wincing at the
pain his next breath caused. "I just stared and stared. There was so
much anger - fury - rolling around on that bed in that little boy. I
was mesmerized=85maybe even identifying with it in some way. Something
akin to that fury has dwelt in me since Samantha's disappearance. It
dwells in me still."

He shifted his body, still having a hard time breathing without pain as
he leaned his head wearily against the cool metal panel behind him.

"Anyway, the old man yelled at me to look away. When it was over,
Scully and Mrs. Holvey had arrived and it was after Mrs. Holvey was with
her sonthat the old guy warned me."

"You said that in your apartment this morning." Scully said, still
hugging her knees.

"Did I? I don't remember that. I remember not being able to catch my
breath, not having the strength to open any of the windows I tried." He
closed his eyes as he continued. "I remember feeling pulled down by my
shoulders onto my back and then the most excruciating pain settling on
my chest. Then I just remember the pain being gone and Scully looking
in my eyes."

He looked over to Skinner who was listening intently. He watched the AD
shake his head as if he missed something.

"In the office, after Scully left me, I thought I heard a voice -yeah,
"He sat up more straight now as he remembered. "It was the same voice
from my apartment this morning. I thought I had imagined it then. But
when I heard it again in the office, felt the air get heavy around me, I
knew I hadn't. I tried to get out and it attacked me." He closed his
eyes remembering the pressure on his throat, the helpless feeling of
lying on his back like an overturned turtle.

"You said you heard a voice?" Scully asked, looking at Mulder now.
Skinner stood up, leaning in the corner. "What did it say?"

"It said a lot of different things in the office, but in my apartment it
only asked a question."

"In 1977 I was in New York. I had been lent to the local bureau office
to help with a series of killings in presbyterian churches. A
detective named Ezekiel Stone was assigned to the case. It seemed
straightforward at first, but it turned pretty quickly into an X-file
type situation. Somehow Stone got me to hear things his way and we set a
trap for this guy in one of the Brooklyn churches we thought would be
next on his list.

I remember standing in the sanctuary looking at one of their stained
glass windows when the air around me got heavy. So heavy I couldn't
breathe. Then I heard it. That voice. Asking me "You wanna believe?
Do you wanna? Do you really wanna?"

He looked at Mulder hard. He wondered if the fear he was seeing now in
Mulder's hazel eyes was the same fear Ezekiel Stone must have seen in
his that night in Brooklyn.

"Before I could reach my gun or shout I was on my back. A mist of some
kind, shimmering, sheer, straddled me, settled on my chest." He rubbed
his chest, remembering. "It was like being in some giant vice. All the
air was being squeezed out of me. Just when I thought I had had it,
Stone arrived shouting and throwing some liquid on it. All the lights
came on at once and the place was filled with screeching and cursing."

"That's how you knew what to do this time?" Mulder asked. Skinner
nodded quietly. "But that glass only held water."

"Evil intelligence is nothing but an oxymoron, Mulder. It wasn't the
water that worked. I played on the stupidity of the evil we're dealing
with. It didn't know that what was in that cup wasn't what Stone was
throwing on it seventeen years ago. Resist the devil and he will flee
from you."

"So what now?" Scully asked. "If all we have to do is resist, why are
we trapped in here? Why can't we walk out?"

"Are you in any shape to confront that thing?" Skinner asked. Scully
shuddered. "I didn't think so. None of us are." He sighed and leaned
his head against the elevator door.

"Resisting isn't as easy as it sounds. I fooled it once. It won't be
fooled again."

A mischievous twinkle gleamed in the devil's eye as he smoothed his
mussed hair back into place.

"Walter Skinner. Of all people on earth, why did it have to be him? I
almost had him back there in Vietnam. Reefer, hashish, prostitutes.
That beefy little marine was preparing himself for a nice little niche
in hell. Then that damn harpy intervened."

"Oh well, I'm patient. You do-gooders always end up under my thumb in
the end. And who knows, I may still get ol' Walter. He's gonna do a few
things in the future that might just land him in hell yet. "

Stone gritted his teeth and took another sharp turn, rolling the devil
off the seat.

"Well whatever your equivalent of chillin' is, do it. This won't take
long and I'll be back on the hunt, all according to Hoyle."

They pulled up a block away from the Hoover building. Stone looked at
the police cars and emergency vans parked outside. Police were
cordoning off the block. Stone flashed his badge and was directed
through the crowd to the lobby. An agent standing by the door directed
him to Tom Colton.

Colton extended a hand and shook it warmly. Stone glanced back at the
circus in the street.

"I don't know. Someone must have monitored our phone call somehow. The
next thing I know the Director is ordering everyone out of the building.
I'm gonna catch hell for it when Skinner learns of it."

"Catch hell," Stone murmured thoughtfully. "I'd say that was about
right. So how do I get down to him?"

Stone looked from one to the other then stared a long time at Mulder's
photo. Something about the look in the eyes was familiar, very
familiar. He blinked and looked back at Colton who was handing him a
walkie-talkie.

"Okay. I'll contact you when it's safe to come down." Stone pushed the
door open but felt Colton's hand on his arm.

"I think I'd rather leave the explaining to Assistant Director Skinner,"
Stone answered, shrugging him off.

"Checking out potential recruits. I've had my eye on that Colton for a
long time. He's ripe for the picking. Just needs a little
encouragement. I wouldn't mind getting a crack at Fox Mulder too. He's
a twenty-first century Job if ever there was one. Take his sister,
crush one partner in an elevator, strangle another in his home, put a
third in a coma but somehow he keeps bouncing back. I wonder if he'll
still be believing when his father is murdered and his mother has a
stroke. He's even got Agent Scully in her own inimitable way telling him
to curse God and die. How I would love a chance to meet one on one with
Agent Scully. Lapsed Catholics are just my favorite group of people.
And let's not forget good ol' Walter. "

Stone heard a slurping noise, as if the Devil were licking his chops
after tasting something especially delicious. Stone turned and looked
at the demon, eyes closed, smiling as only evil can smile.

The Devil pulled himself together, embarrassed at being caught enjoying
himself. Stone reached the bottom of the stairs, pulling a small bottle
from his pocket. He turned around, sensing that the Devil was no longer
behind him and saw him on the last landing.

"Do you really think that you heard the last of my objecting when you
threw me off that car seat? I didn't even get a chance to berate you
for your ingratitude. I give you a beautiful red corvette, never runs
out of gas, never needs oil. All it needs is some slick orange and
yellow flames burned along the sides to give it just the right 'je ne
sais quois'. "

He licked his thumb and pressed it to his hip, giving off the sound of
steam heat.

"Please, " Stone said, pulling the stopper out of the bottle, an old
familiar feeling of tired exasperation settling on him like a worn
woolen blanket. "I know a bribe when I see it. I just haven't figured
out yet why you gave it to me."

Stone reached for the doorknob when it hit him. He glanced back up at
the demon.

"It's one of yours, isn't it? Not an escapee, not some angry misguided
soul lost between heaven and hell, but a follower. Doing just what you
can't."

"No? I think I hit the bull's eye with that one. You know I always
wondered why it was you have no power on earth, but all these others do.
Is that your hell? Is that the twenty-first century equivalent of
slithering on your belly? To have to live vicariously through the
misdeeds of others?"

"Be careful Ezekiel. Twenty-first century D.C. is no Garden of Eden.
And I am no snake."

"Yes," the devil hissed, his dapper demeanor totally dissolved as he
stepped into Stone's physical space. No cool, calm or collected charm
emanated from the gaunt frame forcing Stone to step backwards. The
devil radiated only the heat of malice aforethought in the dead
detective's direction.

"Yes, you are. And I want you to remember something as you go through
that door to help your friend no good deed goes unpunished."