~The Lonegunmen, Jimmy, Mulder, and Scully all belong to Chris
Charter. I did not get permission to use these characters or make
any profit off of them. This is a short `what if' story. ~
I couldn't believe it. We've been spotted. I tried to call the guys
in on our transmitters, kind of like the ones on Star Trek. I hear
people running towards me and did what Frohike told me to do. Jump
over the fence and hide. Leave. Get out of harms way. I did.
I scrambled over the fence, tough to do in my dress shoes,
and got my pants leg hung on the top. I struggle a bit then hear a
loud rip as my pants tear free. I overbalance and fall hard to the
ground, rolling down into the ditch full of weeds and what I hope is
As I make the other side of the ditch, my heart falls and my
gut freezes at the sound of gunfire behind me. Part of me knows it
isn't me they are shooting at. They're shooting at the guys. But I
run into the dark woods just beyond, hoping that my three friends are
okay. I trip more than once on tree roots and the underbrush as I
run on through, towards what I remember the guys said would be the
meeting spot. When I make it to the parked van on the other side of
the green belt, no one is there. I don't even have a key. It's
pitch black and I listen hard, trying to hear if I was alone. I
was. I didn't like it. Where were the guys? What had gone wrong?
All I was allowed to know was that we were going to check out
this company who was supposed to be eco-friendly but was
experimenting on animals or something, using some sorta mind control
drug they had run into a few years back. The guys had left me here
as point. I thought it was going okay. The guys are real smart. I
can't even program a V.C.R. and they can break into the Franklin Mint
and empty their vaults. So, how come their plan went wrong? Where
I had been waiting quietly by the van for almost ten minutes
when I heard a noise coming out of the woods. Um, what was our alert
signal again? I don't remember what a giraffe sounds like, so I make
a sound up, calling it three times.
I hear someone sigh and then get the answering sound, a rabid
raccoon getting hit by a truck. Next time I'll come up with
something that sounds better for the guys to use as recognition
Grinning, I whisper loudly, "I was worried when I heard gun
shots. You guys alright?"
"No." I hear Byers say, his voice sounded strange. It
wasn't pleasant like usual and that word caused fear to sour my belly.
"Were one of you-" I start but cannot finish.
"Jimmy, we have to get Frohike to the hospital, NOW!" Byers
It was dark, but I had been out here long enough for my eyes
to get adjusted and now I could see that two people were supporting a
"Frohike got shot?" I say, panic fills me and I rush
over, "Give me the keys. I'll drive!"
"No way! Don't let him, please, Byers!" Protests a voice I
know and admire. It momentarily warms my heart to hear Frohike sound
like himself, until I realize how strained his voice is. He is
hurting. How bad is it? It can't be that bad if he's talking,
"I'll drive. I got the keys. Here," Langly grabs my
arm, "take Frohike and I'll open up the van."
I do as Langly says and take Frohike into my arms. I can
support him by myself and lift him up cradling him in my arms so
Byers doesn't have to hold him anymore. Frohike doesn't even
struggle against me, like he might under normal circumstances. He
lets me hold him. God, I think, it's bad. I hold onto to him,
The van door slides open and Langly ushers Frohike and me
inside. They close the door and turn on the ceiling light (it
doesn't light up when you open the door for some reason) and I get my
first look at the damage. I bite back a sob. It's bad! His chest
looks like Swiss cheese with and his shirt is soaked in his blood.
He can barely keep his eyes open and his head from rolling back. I
keep a hold of him, hugging him.
"Frohike. Frohike!" I say his name over and over, hoping to
keep his attention so he doesn't leave.
Langly fires up the van and hits the gas and we peel out of
there, almost tipping the van over as he makes a fast, tight corner.
I jiggle Frohike slightly.
"Come on, Buddy. Come on, who am I? Say my name." I say.
"Royal Pain in the Ass." Frohike mumbles. His eyes aren't
open and he tries to let his head sag back.
"Close enough." I say.
"Come on, Jimmy." Byers says to me, then to Frohike, "Come
on, Frohike, hang in there. Just eight minutes and we'll be at a
hospital. Stay with us, okay? We have that appointment with Scully
tomorrow. You don't want to miss it, do you?"
I have heard tales about the infamous Agent Scully and how
Frohike favored her. I have never met her and had been happy to have
a chance to do so tomorrow, but I wanted Frohike to introduce her to
I jiggle him slightly again, "Yeah. Come on, Frohike, you
have to introduce Scully to me."
There was no response. I jiggle him again and panic grips me
tighter. I look up at Byers with a look of horror on my face. Byers
lunges forward and places a hand on Frohike's neck. He leaves it
there for a moment, then another.
"Langly!" Byers yells, voice breaking.
"Almost there! Hold on!" Langly yells back.
"I don't have a pulse!" Byers is frantic.
"Are we there yet?" I holler and crush Frohike's
frighteningly still body closer to mine. I don't care that his blood
is getting all over my sports jacket and white shirt.
"GOD! Just a moment! Stupid stone age van!" Langly curses.
"This can't be happening." I say over and over again, like
it was a prayer, I rock Frohike back and forth in our chair as the
van makes crazy, wild turns.
Byers is quiet. The computer glow lights up his face. It
has a look of barely contained anguish and I know that this is really
bad. I am afraid.
When we had gotten to the hospital, we'd careened into the
emergency driveway. I had hauled Frohike out with Byers behind and
Langly after him. The doctors had taken Frohike from us and nurses
and we were sent to the waiting room. Byers had to fill out form
after form for this and that and Langly called Mulder and Scully. It
hadn't seemed like much time had passed, but enough did for us to
have sunk into a pit of despair. I wondered what was going on in
Byers and Langly's heads while we waited. They were very quiet and
the look of dread never left their faces. I looked up to see a
doctor coming towards us with blood smeared on his smock and with a
look that didn't look like it was full of good news.
"I'm sorry. Your friend was dead before you arrived. We
tried to resuscitate him, but the damage was too extensive. I'm
sorry. You may go in and say your respects to him before we take him
to the morgue, if you like. Again, my sympathies."
I can't believe it! He can't be gone! I follow Byers and
Langly silently down to the little room that was now completely
empty. Empty as in it just had Frohike's body in it, not Frohike.
As I knew him, anyway. A lump grew in my throat as I stared at his
body. He'd died in my arms. I'd never been so close to death
I don't hear whatever it is that Byers and Langly say to the
body of Frohike as I stare at the still, lifeless form. When they
back up to give me room to say goodbye, I step up and clasp his
hand. It feels funny. Growing cold, slowly. It doesn't feel real.
If Frohike were alive he'd never let me hold his hand. I grip it and
find that tears fall from my eyes.
"I know I've only known you for a little while, but I like to
think that we were friends. The guys, they love you and I don't know
how they will be after all of this. I will try to do my best by them
for you, okay? I'll try not to screw up. I know how much you hated
it when I did. I'm sorry for putting the coffee filters through the
paper shredder and all that other stuff. I'll do better because it's
what you would have wanted. I'll try to think before I act. I… I
don't know what else to say…"
I didn't, so I left it at that.