Subj: Darane Svatura -- 1
Date: 6/14/00 4:47:05 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Katrinka
Another Note: As a Romany-American, I know it is not politically correct to call a person a Gypsy. It is used in this story simply because a Romany character calls herself that.
Their first real case since the events of Oklahoma City. Mulder couldn't believe they had been put back on field duty. Of course, it wasn't a real X-files case. Skinner told Mulder and Scully that their getting the X-files back would depend on how this case worked out. It was all or nothing. Mulder let the weight weigh heavy on himself. If he screwed this case up, then the partners would be reassigned.
The agents had been assigned to interview witnesses to a crime in Collinsport Maine. A beautiful coastal town. Beautiful, unless you knew some of it's secrets. Mulder was haunted by the thought of visiting this town. The place where his curse began.
"Why do we have to take Byers with us?" Scully asked.
"I grew up in Collinsport." Byers said simply. "I know the area."
"We could have used a map. We didn't need you."
Mulder put his hand on Scully's knee. "Please, Scully."
"I don't want to read a thing about this case in the Lone Gunmen." Scully warned.
"Trust me, I wouldn't write anything about this place in my paper." Byers promised.
"Why wouldn't you?"
Byers shrugged. "I know Collinsport. It's a boring town. Nothing to write about."
*Does he really believe that?* Mulder asked himself.
Mulder could see the house on top of the hill, a large mansion. Without thinking, Mulder fingered the pentagram that he always wore. The mansion looked different then he remembered. He had only been ten when he went to visit a friend of his mothers in Collinsport. It hadn't been until his return home that he found out that these people where relatives. Just because some ancestor of his lived in this house didn't mean Mulder could believe the stories his mother had told him, especially the one about the distant cousin who was a vampire? His great grandfather an immortal werewolf. Even Mulder couldn't believe in immortal ancestors.
"Do you think you could interview the witnesses by yourself?" Mulder asked.
"Mulder, we're partners. We work together." She reminded him.
"Just at Collinwood. I'll interview anyone you want in town."
"Give me one good reason why I should interview by myself?"
"Nothing, it's nothing." Mulder decided to ask the question that had been haunting him. "Do you think a person can be held responsible for the actions of their ancestors?"
"Of course they can't!" Scully pulled into the driveway.
"We're here." Byers sounded just as frightened as Mulder.
************************
Mulder looked around the grounds of the mansion. Mulder had an ancestor who lived her. He wondered if his great-grandmother hadn't left his great-grandfather, if all this would have been his. "I still think you could do this alone."
"Mulder your beings silly." Scully said coldly. "You're my partner, you need to be with me. I really don't have to search this place alone."
"I can help." Byers told her.
"Yes you can. We're going to need all the help we can get with a house so large." Scully said slowly. "Mulder, you can't just chicken out."
"I'm not chickening out!" Mulder said firmly.
"Then why so scared?" Scully rang the front doorbell.
"Perhaps no one will be home." Byers suggested.
A few moments passed, and the door opened. The man standing at the doorway looked to be in his late twenties, his clothes had droplets of paint on them. He was as tall as Mulder, with hair as dark, but eyes white-blue. He stared at Scully.
"I'm Special Agent Mulder." Mulder took out his ID card. "This is Special Agent Scully."
The man looked at Byers. "Who is this?"
"Agent Byers." Byers flashed his FCC ID.
The man didn't take his eyes off of Scully. "How can I help you?"
"We are here to serve a search warrant." Mulder tried not to stare at this man. He bore a strong resemblance to Mulder's ancestor.
"DO you mind giving us your name?" Byers asked.
"I'm Quentin Collins."
*Calm, I have to stay calm!* Not only did the man look like his ancestor, he had the same name!
"Are you related to the Quentin Collins that lived in Collinsport in the year 1897?" Byers asked.
The man looked startled. "Why do you need to know that?"
"Just answer the question." Mulder told him.
"Quentin Collins of the year 1897 was my great-grandfather." Quentin explained. "Do you mind if I read the warrant?"
"Sure." Scully handed the man the warrant.
Quentin spent a minute reading the warrant.
"Can we come inside?" Scully asked.
Quentin jumped as if pinched. "Sure, come in."
They followed him into the house. Into a large entranceway, there was a staircase, and to one side, open door. Inside it looked like an artist studio. When Mulder had been there before, it had been a sitting room.
"Would you mind if we ask you a few questions?" Mulder asked.
"Go right ahead," Quentin's eyes never leaving Scully's.
*This is strange, do they know each other?* Mulder thought trying to squash feelings of jealousy.
"What is your profession?" Byers asked.
"I'm an artist."
"Elizabeth Collins Stoddard owns this house, not you." Mulder pointed out without thinking.
"Yes, yes, she does." The man looked surprised. "I am house sitting while the owner is on a trip to Europe. My cottage is down by the cliffs."
"Is there anyone else here?" Mulder could feel something from this man, almost as if he had the curse.
"My wife is upstairs, putting our son down for his nap."
"Is her name Cassandra?" Scully asked.
"No, it's not, it's Janette." He looked up towards the staircase. A woman came down the steps. The first thing Mulder thought was she had a beautiful dress sense. She looked nothing at all like the woman in the photo. She went over to Quentin who put an arm around her. She had a slight accent that Mulder couldn't place. "Darling, who are these people?"
"I'm Special Agent Mulder, and this is Special agent Scully and Byers, FBI." Mulder said.
"I see," the woman barely gave Mulder a glance. Instead she looked Scully up and down, like she was choosing a piece of meat. "What can we help you with?"
"We have cause to think that a known felon, Cassandra Collins is in this house."
"There is no one here, beside us and our child."
"We have a warrant to search the house." Mulder reminded his distant cousin.
"We have nothing to hide," Quentin told him. "Go ahead and search."
***************************
Mulder, Scully and Byers searched through the house finding nothing. Byers knew this house, as his mother worked as cook for the Collins'. He had played in this house with some of the servant's children. He had even lived in the mansion for a few months after his mother left his father. The mansion was full of secrets. Some so old, that they were forgotten.
Byers didn't understand why Quentin Collins didn't recognize him. He had grown up in Collinsport. He knew all the Collins' that lived in the town. The Quentin Collins that He knew when he left Collinsport in 1982 looked exactly the same as this Quentin Collins. He was also an artist, the way this Quentin was.
There were so many memories in this house. He didn't blame the current inhabitants for what happened to his family at the turn of the century. It wasn't their fault that his great-grandmother had left his great-grandfather. The Collins' had treated Byers like family, even though he was only the child of a servant. When he went to college, he found there had been a trust fund set up for him by the head of the family, Elizabeth Collins Stoddard.
Finally all that was left to search was the basement. Which seemed like a normal basement, until they found a door. Byers had been told to stay away from the basement as a child, so never went inside it. The doorknob gave Byers a tingling feeling as he touched it. The door was locked! "Do you have a key?"
"There's nothing in it, its just a storage closet," Quentin told them.
"Is there a key?" Mulder asked.
"I can promise you there is nothing in that room."
"Our search warrant covers the entire house, including this room." Mulder reminded him.
"But...."
"Don't argue with him. They are only following orders." Janette pulled a key ring out of her pocket. She unlocked the door.
Byers opened the door; it was a room, with a staircase that led to the actual room. It seemed as if the room was empty. So perhaps Quentin had been right.
Quentin reached out and grabbed Scully's arm. Scully looked up to him. "Don't go in there, let the men search the room."
"Why?" Scully asked.
"It's dangerous for you."
"How is it dangerous?" Mulder demanded.
"Its just is, I can't tell you anymore. But please, you search the room, leave Scully here." the man pleaded.
"You mean it's not dangerous to me?" Mulder couldn't keep the disbelief out of his voice.
"No, only to Dana." Quentin looked into Scully's eyes. "Please Dana, try and understand."
Byers couldn't understand how this man knew Scully's first name.
"If I'm in danger, I would feel more safe with Mulder," Dana said firmly.
They went into the room; Byers could hear Quentin and Janette talking.
"Quentin, you can't change the past." Janette told him.
"I can try!"
"What happened, happened." she shrugged.
"If she doesn't go down the steps, it won't." Quentin said firmly.
"I know you feel guilty, but it was 100 years ago." she reminded him.
"It wasn't one hundred years to her!" Quentin almost shouted. He went to the doorway. "Please Dana, don't go down the steps!"
Mulder put his hand on Scully's arm, then he half dragged, and half pushed her down the staircase. He could hear Quentin shouting " NO!"