The LPF's

Okay so a while ago, I was obsessed with the X-Files and I was on a Linkin Park fansite when I wrote the first of these. The LPFs were a fan fic base of the X-Files - The Linkin Park Files. This is the most recent one, I am writing at the moment, it backtracks a lot of what happened in the first one, as there is one major character from the first one in this one. I do these things in time slots, like chapters. Please, don't ban me for being bored.


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10.15 pm, St. Louis, Missouri

It was another closing night at the Hogbreath Pub. By law , all pubs on Saturday nights had to close by three o’clock or encounter a fee per hour after thereso. The dark haired owner was on the phone, in his office, at the back of the pub.
The room had tattered wallpaper that was peeling off at the corners. The dim light that filled the room reflected the pale and faded pinkness of what used to be a mild pink decoration. The smelt like damp mould combined with fresh cigarette smoke.
It was obvious that the owner was smoking, as he sat at his desk, leaned back against the wall, with his grey office chair tipped backwards slightly. In one hand, he held an alive Peter Jackson Gold, and in the other wrinkly and aged hand, had the black ear piece of the corded phone. His grey hair reflected his old age and the years battling with the glass next to the phone, filled with gin. The dark circles showed the kind of pain that he had to battle with on a daily basis - insomnia had plagued him with its sickness and the cancer in his lungs was making his life shorter by the day.
He had basically nothing to live for now. His cancer was killing him, his failing kidneys were failing him, and his wife was leaving him. Anything that he said to get her back, seemed like as though he was talking to a brick wall. No a brick wall at least tried to look human and his imagination tried to convince himself that somewhere in that pattern of cement there was a person willing to let him live - he had nothing, so he talked to no one.
He slammed the phone down after his wife abused him and blamed him for every marital problem there was under the sun. He took another drag of his cigarette and gulped down another mouthful of gin.
There was nothing.
And there was no one.
Life seemed even more pointless now.
There was a knock at the door and he looked up, to see an employee clad in her black coat, looking like she could offer some advice. But she didn’t.
“Do you want a lift home, Greg?” she asked, as her bright red hair turned to a dull redish brown in the dim light of the room.
“No thanks, Beck,” he grunted, as he cleared his throat. Greg couldn’t look at another woman the same after his failed marriage. “Go home, I’ll be fine.”
Beck knew he wasn’t okay but she didn’t know what else to do and how she could help. She bit her lip with her pearly white teeth and looked down. She looked up again, and looked back at her boss.
“Okay then,” Beck replied, unsure about her boss. “Drive safely.” Beck closed the door, before her boss could answer her.
“I will,” he whispered. He went back to drinking his gin.
He looked blankly at the dusty clock that was sitting on its hook loosely,near the door. It wasn’t touched very often or even noticed very often. He watched aimlessly at the clock tick his life away, slowly tick by tick his eyelids felt heavier. He had never noticed the tiny cracks in the clock’s face before.
They were so delicate and so little, but enough of those little cracks could become one major crack and one day, the whole porcelain clock face that was once a pearly white, could just crack in half. He had a lot of dealing with cracks in life, metaphorical cracks to be honest.
He let out a loud and exhausted yawn, and was ready to call it a night behind the desk, when he had some sort of water trickling. He frowned, as the nearest bathroom was on the other side of the building.
He had to urge himself to get up and investigate, in which he did. He walked to the other side of the room, where the dusty old clock had somehow stopped ticking. He Tapped the clock several times to try and get it working, but none of the attempts were successful.
The sound of water increased and suddenly, Greg found himself at the hands of something dangerously weird.

12 am, Washington DC

It had been a long night for both the Agents as they had finished wrapping up another case and they were currently on the way back to their apartment blocks when Agent Harris’s cell rang. He, who was driving, managed to pick it up but instead of bringing it into his ear to talk, he gave it to his partner in crime fighting, Agent Lee.
“Hello?” Sarah asked, as the neon streetlights of the morning dew, flickered past her. She like her partner, were tired as hell and jetlagged. They had just finished a trip to Virginia.
“Agent Harris?” asked what seemed to be a manof authority on the other end of the phone.
“No it’s his partner, Agent Harris is driving and unable to speak,”
“And whom am I speaking to?”
“Agent Lee,”
“Sorry to disturb you Agent Lee, but my name is Mark Keating, and I’m the deputy sherriff for the state of Missouri. We’ve had an unusual event occur and we were giving your number to see if you can help investigate.”
“What sort of event?”
Rob, alias, Agent Harris, quirked up an eyebrow as he knew immediately they had just been given another case. It was all in Sarah’s wording and tone of voice. He could see the amber in her hair trickle with streetlight colours flicker on and off from her, and could also see the tiredness written all over her face like a neon billboard advertising sex products.
And by the comment, and description, yes, he was attracted to her, but he knew she had someone else in her life, someone whom he didn’t like very much.
“I think it’s better if you come over here as soon as possible, we’ll fax you the report if you like,”
“Why don’t you email our department the report, because judging by the sounds of things, and the urgency and worry in your voice, you seem to be in a rush. We can be there as soon as possible.”
“That would be greatly appreciated, Agent,”
“No worries,”
“Thank you Agent, have a good evening,”
“You too, cheers,”
Sarah hung up on the man and looked to Rob, who she knew had his eyes flickering back and forth from the misty screen window to Sarah.
“Another case?” asked Lee, as Sarah nodded. “Let me pick Matilda up, her babysitter has to be somewhere tomorrow apparently and is unavailable to do the job I pay her to do.”
Matilda, his daughter, the girl who was born out of wedlock. There was much history with Matilda, as it dated back to the days of a particular case of insane Fluke Worms, mutating to the point where it caused death and most probably the mental illness of her mother, the Texan coroner. Ravyn, had taken her life sadly as a cheap means to get away with the murder of various suspects and victims in that one particular case, and left behind a daughter that Rob never knew of until the passing of the woman whom he had one fling with.
Everytime Matilda’s name was mentioned, Sarah couldn’t help but to remember the shock and grief Rob went through, when Ravyn had taken her life and how much she had been involved, criminally involved, with the case. She assumed Rob still liked her, even though Ravyn was made a widow during the case, as her stepdaughter had taken her own life as a means of protest against another and her husband had taken his life, distraught with grief.
The question was just pushing at Sarah, and it always pushed whenever Rob mentioned Matilda’s name. Sarah looked sincerely at Rob who had his main focus set on the road.
“Can I ask you a question?” Sarah asked, as Rob frowned, but he agreed anyway with a soft nod of his head. “When we worked on the case with Ravyn in Texas, did you.....” She bit her lip. “Did you still have feelings for her? Like the kind that tells you that you just want to spend the rest of your life with them, feelings?” Rob looked at her for a second and then looked back at the road. She saw his dark eyebrows narrow further inwards with thought and she noticed he was gripping the steering wheel of his car tighter, and with both hands. “I thought I’ll ask but nevermind.” She went back to staring outside the window, leaning on one hand and in the other, firmly gripping her partner’s cell.
“She’s still alive,” he answered softly, still looking ahead.
“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” asked Sarah, looking back at Rob and continued to watch him. “I thought you said that corrupt coroner was still alive, you know the suicidal maniac coward of a woman who left the daughter you never knew about, behind.”
“Ravyn didn’t kill herself,” he explained. “Everyone thought she did, but she survived her own bullet.” This was all said with no eye contact at all, which told the receiving end of this conversation that he was recalling a memory and was concentrating on it. Blame Sarah’s boyfriend for that talent. “I went back to where it was said that she shot herself, I remember that moment, it was horrible. She was barely breathing, she still had a pulse - why didn’t they check her pulse? Why did they leave her corpse there?” Rob got sidetracked in his own thoughts.
“I don’t know,” Sarah muttered. “Maybe because she had left other people to die....”
“That’s beside the point,” spat Rob.
“So what happened?” asked Sarah.
“I rushed her to the hospital under a false name, false ID, and the list goes on,” continued Rob. “You know, she was Kenji’s pawn-”
“She killed him!” Sarah intervened. “Do you not remember that frantic phone call you received from me, saying that she’s a murderer, and that she killed him right in front of me?”
“He threatened her-”
“She was a person of legal power, you’re one hell of a coward to let someone like him, intimidate you like the way Kenji did,” Sarah interrupted. “Why are you defending her, Harris? Are you still in love with her, or something?”
“Of course not, she hasn’t gotten over David’s suicide,” answered Rob, as he shot Sarah a nasty eyeful of disgust.
“If I recall correctly, David killed himself, because Isabelle used herself as a living experiment to prove a stupid point to Kenji, and eventually, her own stupidity killed the damn teenager,” Sarah spat, angrily, as Rob pulled up to his set of apartment blocks, creaked the parking breaks on, and looked at Sarah. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you, Harris? Your fascination with your one night stand those god damn six years ago, has elevated into an obsession. You’re protecting a murderer, and what’s worse, you’re in love with one.” The disgust in her tone, was plainly obvious.
“She’s the mother of my child-”
“Doesn’t excuse the fact that she’s a murderer,” interjected Sarah, as she handed Rob his cell phone which she had been holding on to for some time now. “She killed Megan, so that she could live her happily, distorted, sick family lifestyle. Megan was a threat to her happiness with David, as she was full aware that David was going to leave Ravyn for a much younger woman.”
“I won’t bother defending her, because it’s pretty damn obvious that you won’t hear any of it,” Rob retorted, as he opened his car door, stepped out into the cold misty night, and slammed it shut. However, Sarah hadn’t finished. She followed his lead. Rob sighed when he saw her following him up to his apartment. “What, am I leaving a trail of breadcrumbs now, Lee?”
“Just admit it,” answered Sarah, but before she could continue Rob turned and stopped in front of Sarah. Sarah stopped and looked into her partner’s dark and stern eyes.
“Listen, I have busted my ass to keep her cover a secret and I have my reasons to protecting her, if you blow her cover, it might be your career that might be underfire, not Ravyn’s identity,” warned Rob. “Now don’t go around talking shit about Ravyn. No I don’t love her. I once upon a time I did, but not now, is that clear enough for you to understand or do I have to write it down for you?”
“Answer me this,” requested Sarah.
“As long as it’s not a naive and stupid question, then I’ll act rational,” replied Rob.
“She’s babysitting Matilda, right now, isn’t she?” asked Sarah, as Rob nodded.
“How did you know?” asked Rob, putting his big hands into his giant pockets of his coat.
“I’m not stupid,” answered Sarah. “You’ve never sat down with Matilda and told her that her mother went to a better place have you? Because her mother went nowhere. That makes sense now.”
“Why are you following me?” asked Rob.
“I want to see for myself, if she’s alive or not,” answered Sarah.
“Be my guest,” answered Rob, as he turned around and stormed off.
“So I can arrest her!” yelled Sarah, as she swallowed hard and Rob immediately stopped. He turned around and glared at Sarah as though Sarah had just said the worst thing ever.
“You wouldn’t,” replied Rob, as he bit his bottom lip, as Sarah withdrew a pair of metallic handcuffs. “You arrest her, and you’ll never get to see another day as an FBI Agent, Lee.”
“What are you hiding then?” asked Sarah.
“Put the handcuffs away, or risk demotion Agent,” warned Rob.
“Admit it,” Sarah shortly said.
“Admit what?” asked Rob.
“You’re in love with her,” answered Sarah, as she swallowed hard.
“I’ve already told you, I’m not in love with her,” Rob told. “Put them away. Now, Lee.” Sarah shook her head stubbornly. “If that be the case, you’re off this case.”
“Doesn’t stop me from arresting her,” replied Sarah.
“Lee, you don’t have to do this, don’t make me do this,” begged Rob, as he started to reach for his gun.
“Do what?” asked Sarah, stubborn as ever, as she slowly started to make a move for her gun as well. “Are you going to shoot me? Are you going to shoot, Harris, a fellow FBI Agent?” He stopped reaching for his gun, but that didn’t stop Sarah from reaching from her gun. It was only a matter of seconds before she held her gun, pointed at Rob. “I’m not going to shoot you Rob.”
“Then why are you still pointing your gun at me, Agent?” asked Rob, as he raised his hands in mercy.
“I’m getting ready to make an arrest,” answered Sarah. “The feds will at least promote my ass for this.”
“Sarah, please, don’t,” begged Rob. “I told you before, I’m not in love with her. I am protecting her for other reasons. Do you want to know who I’m really in love with, if you must know?”
“Who then?” asked Sarah, lowering her weapon and Rob lowered his hands.
“You,” he answered bluntly. “And I have been before you got with Cal, and when we first met. I’m begging you, drop your weapon.”

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