#omg this hurt to write bc beck's instinct is to lash out

[maggicktouched]

Get out of there! Angrboda screamed in the back of her mind. Beck physically winced from the intrusion, but she was completely frozen. There was bile at the back of her throat, and the only part of her that seemed to have no issue running a thousand miles an hour was her own fucking heart. Her feet fell from the table to the floor, and she sat up a bit straighter. Did it even matter if they knew they were getting to her if they already knew so much? Did it matter if there really was any such thing as “hard evidence” in the face of the knowledge that she could change forms? They would drug her, drag her off somewhere, try to take her apart to see if they could find anything.

“I’ve been smoking since I was thirteen, lady. I think I’m fine.” But the cracks were showing in her demeanor. Her tone wasn’t so smooth, the confidence in her eyes was wavering. For a long moment after that she stayed silent, her jaw locked in place, desperately trying to think of the smart thing to do in this situation. She had worked her way out of worse spots, but the trick was not to panic. 

“Ok. I want my goddamn lawyer.” She said, throwing up her hands in an exaggerated display of exasperation. Her attention turned to the man even as she pointed at the woman. “Do I look like a dog to you? Do you see my bushy tail or pointy ears? No. This woman is clearly mentally unstable, and I refuse to entertain nonsense. It has to constitute as some kind of harassment. No. No. I’m not saying another fucking word. You get my attorney in here, or I’m not saying shit.”

She neatly crossed her arms, then one leg over the other, and refused to look at this strange woman who was searching so sincerely for something inside of her that wasn’t there. At least the man seemed to be oblivious. But without looking at her, Beck pushed her own thoughts out of the boundaries of her own head and into the woman’s.

I don’t know what the hell you’re doing, but you can’t do it here. If I don’t get out of here before someone else finds me here, it is going to be bad. People will get hurt, and I don’t want that. Help me get out of here and then we---just you and me---we can talk.

Forward? Flashing a look of confused disgust at her daughter, and wondering why she was talking this way, why she was behaving like this at all, she turned her attention back to Mulder. While he could be absurd and far-reaching, and ever prone to trying to prove his point to her about whatever new theory he had, and even the way his humour could sometimes run, she knew that he would never push something when he could see how it was effecting her; he wouldn't upset her, and he certainly wouldn't put their child at risk. Something was wrong.

"Mulder," she put her hand on his arm, her thumb pressing into the muscle slightly, silently showing her urgency and her sincerity. "If this is a joke or you're trying to prove something, I need you to tell me." She stepped closer, her blue eyes looking deeply into his as she searched his expression for any flicker of a sign. "Do you really not know who this is?"

"Wendy Putts," he replied. "Our suspect." It was now his turn to look into her eyes, looking for answers. "Scully, are you alright?"

"No, I...something is going on here," she whispered, practically hissing the words to him in case someone was listening, that whoever was responsible for all this was watching them.

"Like what?" He asked, before looking over at Beck, distracted by her backchat. "Did you just call me a jackass?"

"She's getting defensive because she's scared," Scully told him, before turning to her daughter. "You know better than to smoke. You know how bad that is for your health? What it does to your lungs, as well as the added risks specifically for women? The cancers the female body is prone to by smoking?" Giving her a look of heavy disappointment, she shook her head a little, and then tried to focus. Something was wrong here, terribly, and she didn't know what. She didn't even know where to begin with a theory.

Taking a breath, she slipped into the chair on the opposite side of the table to Beck and looked at her sincerely.

"I know you didn't do anything wrong and I know you're probably very worried that someone might find out what you can do, but I need you to focus for me, Beck, and I need you to over-ride whatever it is, whatever drug or suppressant, that is making you-- and Mulder-- forget." She reached out for her hands but then hesitated, dreading that Beck might pull back, that the rejection would make it feel like this was something more than a chemical control of the brain's memory links, a possible drug targeted the hippocampus perhaps, and that she had lost her daughter.

"Look at me." She waited for the inevitable eye contact. "I remember when you were a little girl and you were so scared when you changed into a fox that I wouldn't want to keep you, that I wouldn't want to be your Mother. I told you we were going to be a family and nothing would change my mind about that. And sometimes, when I had to work late or away, my Mother would look after you and you would always go missing and Mulder would have to get you from the lake. I remember watching you grow up into a beautiful, strong, capable woman, a daughter I am so proud of. I can't believe there's anything that could erase that. So please," her voice was a hoarse whisper now as she looked into Beck's eyes as she looked into Mulder's. "Try to remember."