6ABX08 Die Geister, die ich rief (englisches Transkript)
| Transcribed by CarriKendl
Edited by Libby, Used with kind permission from Libby (www.chelonium.plus.com)
Somewhere In Maryland
Night. Outside a spooky old mansion. Car radio is playing Christmas songs. We hear Bing Crosby's version of "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas". We see that it is Mulder's radio. Scully drives up beside him. They both roll down their power windows.
BING CROSBY: Have yourself a merry little Christmas let yourself be light From now on, our troubles will be out of sight....
Mulder is happy to see her.
MULDER: I almost gave up on you.
SCULLY: Sorry. Checkout lines were worse than rush hour on the 95. If I heard "Silent Night" one more time I was going to start taking hostages. What are we doing here?
SCULLY: On Christmas Eve?
MULDER: It's an important date.
SCULLY: No kidding.
MULDER: Important to why we're here. Why don't you turn off your car and I'll fill you in on the details.
SCULLY: Mulder, I've got wrapping to do. It's the night before Christmas.
BING CROSBY: Here we are...
Mulder looks in the back of Scully's car where there are a number of neatly wrapped packages.
BING CROSBY: Happy golden days of yore...
Scully rolls up her window, gets out of her car and joins Mulder in his car.
SCULLY: Let's hear it. Give me the details.
MULDER: Look, if you've got Christmas stuff to do I don't want to... you know...
SCULLY: Mulder, I drove all the way out here. I might as well know why. Right?
MULDER: I just thought you'd be more... curious.
SCULLY: Who lives in the house?
MULDER: No one.
SCULLY: Then who are we staking out?
MULDER: The former occupants.
SCULLY: They've come back?
MULDER: That's the story.
SCULLY: I see. The dark, gothic manor the, uh, omnipresent low fog hugging the thicket of overgrowth. Wait-- is that a hound I hear baying out on the moors?
MULDER: No. Actually that was a left cheek sneak.
SCULLY: Mulder, tell me you didn't call me out here on Christmas Eve to go ghost busting with you.
MULDER: Technically speaking they're called apparitions.
SCULLY: Mulder, call it what you want. I've got holiday cheer to spread. I've got a family roll call under the tree at 6 a.m.
Mulder locks her door.
MULDER: I'll make it fast. I'll just give you the details.
MULDER: Christmas, 1917. It was a time of dark, dark despair. American soldiers were dying at an ungodly rate in a war-torn Europe, while at home a deadly strain of the flu virus attacked young and old alike. Tragedy was a visitor on every doorstep while a creeping hopelessness set in with every man, woman and child. It was a time of dark, dark despair.
SCULLY: You said that.
MULDER: But here at 1501 Larkspur Lane for a pair of star-crossed lovers tragedy came not from war or pestilence-- not by the boot heel or the bombardier-- but by their own innocent hand.
SCULLY: Go on.
MULDER: His name was Maurice. He was a... a brooding but heroic young man, beloved of Lyda, a sublime beauty with a light that seemed to follow her wherever she went. They were likened to two angels descended from heaven whom the gods could not protect from the horrors being visited upon this cold, grey earth.
SCULLY: And what happened to them?
MULDER: Driven by a tragic fear of separation they forged a lovers' pact so that they might spend eternity together and not spend one precious Christmas apart.
SCULLY: They killed themselves?
MULDER: And their ghosts haunt this house every Christmas Eve.
MULDER: I just gave myself chills.
SCULLY: It's a good story, Mulder, and very well told. But I don't believe it.
MULDER: You don't believe in ghosts?
SCULLY: That surprises you?
MULDER: Well... Yeah. I thought everybody believed in ghosts.
SCULLY: Mulder, if it were any other night I might let you talk me into it but the halls are decked and I got to go.
Scully gets out of the car and heads for her car. Mulder also gets out and heads for the house.
MULDER: My best to the family.
SCULLY: What are you doing? Mulder, don't you have somewhere to be?
MULDER: I'm just going to take a look.
Scully mutters to herself.
SCULLY: I'm not going to do it. My New Year's resolution.
Scully checks her pockets. No keys. She looks in Mulder's car. No keys. She looks in her car. No keys.
Sound of door creaking as Mulder enters the house. He turns on his flashlight and shines it around the foyer. Thunder rumbles as Scully follows him into the house.
MULDER: Change your mind?
SCULLY: Did you take my car keys?
SCULLY: Come on, Mulder. Don't kid around.
MULDER: Why would I take your car keys?
SCULLY: Maybe you, uh... Maybe you grabbed them by mistake.
MULDER: Maybe it was a ghost.
They both look up at the knocking sound above them, then over at the clock chiming in the foyer. Sound of wind blowing.
MULDER: That's a cold wind.
SCULLY: There must be a window open upstairs. You know, the weather report said that there was an 80 percent chance of rain maybe even a... maybe even a white Christmas.
Sound of thunder crashing. Front door slams shut. Scully runs to try to open them. They do not budge.
MULDER: I think the spirits are among us.
SCULLY: Mulder, will you quit trying to scare me and help me get these doors open.
MULDER: Sounds like there's somebody walking around upstairs.
More knocking upstairs.
MULDER: There. You hear that?
SCULLY: Mulder, I really have to go.
MULDER: There's nothing to be afraid of.
SCULLY: I'm not afraid, okay?
MULDER: Ghosts are benevolent entities.
Sound of chains clanking from above.
SCULLY: You are not scaring me, Mulder.
Scully checks her watch. 11:03. She looks at the clock in the hall. It also reads 11:03. (The clock's maker is J. Cameron & Son, Kilmarnock, a real 19th century Scottish company, but also a neat reference to James Cameron the director.)
SCULLY: Look, I really have to get home.
Mulder starts up the stairs leaving Scully alone. Lightning flashes showing her the silhouette of a figure next to the window. When the lightning flashes again, the figure is gone. Scully follows Mulder.
MULDER: Shh! What was that?
The knocking stops.
SCULLY: These are tricks that the mind plays. They are ingrained clichés from a thousand different horror films. When we hear a sound, we get a chill. We-we see a shadow and we allow ourselves to imagine something that an otherwise rational person would discount out of hand. The whole... Mulder...?
Switching on her flashlight, she follows him up to the second floor.
SCULLY: The whole idea of a benevolent entity fits perfectly with what I'm saying. That a spirit would materialize or return for no other purpose than to show itself is silly and ridiculous. I mean, what it really shows is how silly and ridiculous we have become in believing such things. I mean, that... That we can ignore all natural laws about the corporeal body...
Mulder tries a locked door.
SCULLY: ...that-that we witness these spirits clad in-in their own shabby outfits with the same old haircuts and hairstyles never aging, never... never in search of more comfortable surroundings-- it actually ends up saying more about the living than it does about the dead.
Mulder tries another locked door.
SCULLY: I mean, Mulder, it doesn't take an advanced degree in psychology to understand the... the unconscious yearnings that these imaginings satisfy. You know, the-the longing for immortality, the hope that there is something beyond this mortal coil...
Mulder tries another door which is also locked.
SCULLY: ...that-that we might never be long without our loved ones. I mean, these are powerful, powerful desires. I mean, they're the very essence of what make us human. The very essence of Christmas, actually.
They both turn as a door creaks as it opens slightly by itself. A light is on in the room behind it.
MULDER: Tell me you're not afraid.
SCULLY: All right. I'm afraid... but it's an irrational fear.
Scully takes a few breaths, then heads for the cracked open door. Mulder stays where he is.
MULDER: I got your back.
Scully whispers a response.
SCULLY: Thank you.
Scully pushes the door open and looks inside.
SCULLY: Mulder, did it occur to you that there aren't ghosts here but that somebody actually might be living in this house?
MULDER: No one lives here.
SCULLY: But when you and I were sitting out in the car there was not a light on. And look at this.
Mulder and Scully walk into an elegant turn of the century two story library. There is a ladder leading down to the lower level. Furniture is covered with white cloth. Chandelier. Great harpsichord music.
MULDER: Must have been some kind of electrical surge.
SCULLY: Mulder, did you happen to notice the clock downstairs is keeping perfect time?
MULDER: Is it?
SCULLY: And how do you explain that?
She indicates a smoking fireplace. They go down the ladder to the fireplace.
SCULLY: This fire has just gone out.
SCULLY: Don't look so disappointed.
MULDER: Why would anyone want to live in a cursed house?
SCULLY: Mulder, it's not enough that it's haunted? It has to be cursed?
MULDER: Every couple that's ever lived here has met a tragic end. Three double murders in the last 80 years. All on Christmas Eve.
The lights flicker and go out.From above there is the sound of a door slamming and a thumping.
MULDER: Whoa... There's that sound again
They look down at the floor boards which are rattling. Mulder moves the furniture out of the way and puts his ear down to the floor. Scully tries a door, which is locked. Scully looks up and notices that the ladder to the upper level of the library is missing.
Scully turns back to Mulder who has gotten up from the floor and is holding the flashlight under his chin in the classic "scare the bejeebees out of your little sister/friend" pose. It works. Scully turns and screams and he screams back at her.
SCULLY: That's not funny!
MULDER: I think there's a hiding space under the floorboards.
SCULLY: What are you going to do?
MULDER: There may be somebody trapped under there.
SCULLY: Mulder, don't.
MULDER: I got to get them out.
SCULLY: Not now.
MULDER: Hey, you have a gun, right? Rationally, you've been in much more dangerous situations.
Mulder begins pulling up floor boards. Exposes a very dead man.
MULDER: I was half right.
SCULLY: Oh, my God.
Mulder keeps pulling up boards, exposes another body.
MULDER: Hey, Scully... Look at this.
SCULLY: It's a woman.
Scully shines her flashlight on the two very decomposed corpses. Woman appears to have a bullet wound in her belly, man a wound in his chest.
SCULLY: Mulder, it looks like they were shot to death.
SCULLY: You know what's weird?
SCULLY: Mulder, she's wearing my outfit.
Scully and the female corpse are both wearing a white blouse and black jacket.
MULDER: How embarrassing.
SCULLY: Yeah, well, you know what? He's wearing yours.
Mulder checks what he's wearing- white T-shirt and leather jacket.
MULDER: Oh... Scully...
SCULLY: That's us.
They run out of the room and into ... the library again. They go back and stand in the doorway, looking at each room in turn. Great flashlight sequence, shining opposite directions, then over each other.
MULDER: Hey, Scully...
SCULLY: This is the same room.
They try again, and enter the library again. They still see the dead bodies.
MULDER: All right. I'm beginning to... get this.
SCULLY: You go through that door and I...
MULDER: I should come out... this door.
Mulder crosses to the opposite end of the room and exits into the library again. Scully waits for him to enter the door next to her, but he doesn't. They are separated.
Doors slam between them. Mulder crosses to the door that just closed. He goes through it into the library again. The room is empty.
Mulder is banging on the door trying to connect with Scully.
MULDER: Hey, Scully. Scully, can you hear me?
Mulder shoots the lock off the door, then opens it only to find that the doorway has been bricked up. He turns to see Maurice, an older man wearing a hat, standing in the room.
Mulder turns and points his gun and flashlight at the man.
MULDER: Who are you?
MAURICE: That's a question I should be asking being this is my house you're standing in.
Maurice switches on the lights.
MAURICE: This isn't one of those home invasions, is it?
MAURICE: Good. Would you like me to show you the door?
MULDER: That's very funny.
MAURICE: I wasn't making a joke.
MULDER: Have you looked at the door?
MAURICE: Uh-huh, I'm looking at it now.
MULDER: Tell me what you see.
MAURICE: I see a door with the lock shot off it. You going to pay for that?
MULDER: That's a door with a brick wall behind it.
MAURICE: Okay, sure.
MULDER: You're playing tricks on me.
MAURICE: If I am, I'm sorry, but I don't know any tricks.
MULDER: Yeah? That's a trick in itself, isn't it? You've been playing tricks on us since we got here.
MAURICE: Am I to take it we're not alone?
MULDER: Ah, that's very funny coming from a ghost.
MAURICE: Yeah, oh... the gun fooled me a little at first. You're a ghost hunter, huh? And you think I'm a ghost, huh? I've seen a lot of strange folks coming around here with a lot of strange equipment but I think you must be the first I've seen come armed.
MULDER: Strange folks?
MULDER: Like those folks under the floorboard...
Mulder turns and shines his light on the floor, but the corpses are missing, the floor untouched.
MULDER: How did you do that?
MAURICE: I didn't do anything.
MULDER: There were corpses here-- bodies buried under the floorboards.
MAURICE: Why don't you have a seat, son.
Short time later. Mulder is sitting with his face in his hands.
MAURICE: You drink? Take drugs?
MAURICE: Get high?
MAURICE: Are you overcome by the impulse to make everyone believe you?
Mulder looks up at him in surprise.
MAURICE: I'm in the field of mental health. I specialize in disorders and manias related to pathological behavior as it pertains to the paranormal.
MULDER: Wow. I didn't know such a thing existed.
MAURICE: My speciality is in what I call soul prospectors-- a cross axial classification I've codified by extensive interaction with visitors like yourself. I've found you all tend to fall into pretty much the same category.
MULDER: And what category is that?
MAURICE: Narcissistic, overzealous, self-righteous egomaniac.
MULDER: That's a category?
MAURICE: You kindly think of yourself as single-minded but you're prone to obsessive compulsiveness, workaholism, anti-socialism. Fertile fields for the descent into total wacko breakdown.
MULDER: I don't think that pegs me exactly.
MAURICE: Oh, really? Waving a gun around my house? Huh? Raving like a lunatic about some imaginary brick wall?
Mulder looks over at ... the brick wall in the doorway.
MAURICE: You've probably convinced yourself you've seen aliens. You know why you think you see the things you do?
MULDER: Because I have seen them?
MAURICE: 'Cause you're a lonely man. A lonely man chasing paramasturbatory illusions that you believe will give your life meaning and significance and which your pathetic social maladjustment makes impossible for you to find elsewhere. You probably consider yourself passionate, serious, misunderstood. Am I right?
MAURICE: Most people would rather stick their fingers in a wall socket than spend a minute with you.
MULDER: All right, now just, uh... Just back off for a second.
MAURICE: You spend every Christmas this way... Alone?
MULDER: I'm not alone.
MAURICE: More self-delusion.
MULDER: No, I came here with my partner. She's somewhere in the house.
MAURICE: Behind a brick wall?
Mulder smiles and nods.
MAURICE: How'd you get her to come with you? Steal her car keys?
Mulder drops his smile.
MAURICE: You know why you do it-- listen endlessly to her droning rationalizations. 'Cause you're afraid. Afraid of the loneliness. Am I right?
MULDER: I'd just like to find my partner.
MAURICE: Good... Easy. Piece of cake.
Maurice gets up and walks to the door where Mulder shot off the lock. He walks through then turns back to face Mulder.
MAURICE: Brick wall...
He indicates the doorway.
MAURICE: ... Or brick wall?
He points to his head.
MAURICE: Go ahead, change your life.
Mulder gets up and starts to walk through the now clear doorway. He runs into an invisible wall which we quickly perceive as the brick wall again. Maurice is now out of sight. Mulder turns to see the now dark library which quickly cuts to Scully's version of the library.
Scully backs away from the locked door then turns and screams when she sees Lyda, an older woman dressed in a long white dressing gown. Lyda screams back. Scully frantically tries to get her gun out of the holster at the small of her back, but is shaking so badly she can't get hold of it.
LYDA: No, no, please, I won't hurt you.
SCULLY: I'm a federal agent! I'm armed.
Lyda turns on some lights.
LYDA: You're what?
Scully finally gets her gun out.
SCULLY: I'm armed.
LYDA: You said...
Scully's hand is shaking.
SCULLY: I'm armed.
LYDA: ... you're a federal agent?
SCULLY: Please, I'm a little on edge. Don't come any closer. My name is Special Agent Dana Scully. And, uh, I can... I can show you my I.D.
LYDA: My goodness, I... I thought you were a ghost.
SCULLY: I can assure you that I'm not. I, uh, I got stuck in this room looking for my partner.
LYDA: Oh, the gangly fellow with the distinguished profile.
SCULLY: You've seen him?
LYDA: With you in the foyer. I thought he was a ghost, too.
SCULLY: Oh... That was you.
LYDA: I sleepwalk sometimes. I thought maybe I'd dreamed it. But then here you were again.
Scully catches her breath.
SCULLY: I am sorry... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I, uh... It's just that we found bodies.
LYDA: Bodies? Where?
The floor is untouched.
LYDA: You look like you saw a ghost. There are ghosts in this house, you know.
Scully raises her gun again.
SCULLY: Who are you?
LYDA: I live here, thank you very much.
SCULLY: Where's my partner?
LYDA: Why are you pointing that gun?
SCULLY: There were corpses right there underneath the floor!
LYDA: I think maybe the ghosts have been playing tricks on you.
SCULLY: I don't believe in ghosts.
Scully runs to the door and opens - there's a brick wall there. She quickly shuts the door again.
LYDA: Then what are you doing here?
SCULLY: It's my partner.
LYDA: He believes in ghosts?
LYDA: Oh, you poor child. You must have an awful small life. Spending your Christmas Eve with him. Running around chasing things you don't even believe in.
SCULLY: Don't come any closer.
Lyda continues to walk closer.
LYDA: I can see it in your face... The fear... The conflicted yearnings... A subconscious desire to find fulfillment through another. Intimacy through co-dependency.
LYDA: Maybe you repress the truth about why you're really here, pretending it's out of duty or loyalty-- unable to admit your dirty little secret: your only joy in life is proving him wrong.
SCULLY: You don't know me. And you don't live here! This isn't your house!
LYDA: You wouldn't think so, the way I'm being treated.
SCULLY: Well, then why is all the furniture covered?
LYDA: We're having the house painted.
SCULLY: Well then where's your Christmas tree?!
LYDA: We're Jewish. Boo.
Scully turns as Maurice enters the room.
SCULLY: Hold it right there. Don't make me shoot you. Stay where you are.
MAURICE: We really attract them, don't we?
SCULLY: Where's Mulder?
MAURICE: Mulder? Is that his name?
SCULLY: Where is he?
MAURICE: He'll be along.
SCULLY: Move over there.
They just look at her. She tries to sound authoritative.
SCULLY: Both of you, move. Move over there. Move over there!
Maurice and Lyda move to stand together in the middle of the room.
MAURICE: This violates our civil rights. I have friends at the ACLU.
SCULLY: Put your hands up.
They do. Lyda's robe falls open - she has a huge gunshot hole through her abdomen. Scully stares at her, then walks over to Maurice and lifts his hat. There is a gunshot hole clear through his head. Camera pans to show her looking through the hole, then Scully faints. Lyda and Maurice put their hands down.
MAURICE: You see what we've resorted to? Gimmicks and cheap tricks. We used to be so good at this.
LYDA: We used to have years to drive them mad. Now we get one night.
Lyda has wrapped her robe around herself again and Maurice has replaced his hat.
MAURICE: This pop psychology approach is crap. All it does is annoy them. When's the last time we actually haunted anyone?
LYDA: When was the last time we had a good double murder? Not since the house was condemned.
MAURICE: This is embarrassing-- amateur kid stuff.
LYDA: Look, if we let our reputations slip they're going to take us off the tourist literature. Last year no one even showed up.
MAURICE: Oh, of all days, why did you pick Christmas? Why not Halloween?
Lyda grabs him by the lapels.
LYDA: Now, who is filled with hopelessness and futility on Halloween? Christmas comes but once a year.
MAURICE: You're right. These two do seem pretty miserable. We need to show them just how lonely Christmas can be.
LYDA: Now that's the old Yuletide spirit.
They kiss and begin laughing.
Mulder's version of the library. Flashlight in his mouth, Mulder is straining to pull himself up to the upper level of the library. Lyda watches from the lower level. Just as he gets up, Lyda enters the upper level.
LYDA: Are you Agent Mulder?
MULDER: Who are you, now?
LYDA: What are you doing using my chair for a ladder?
MULDER: I'm trying to get out of this room.
LYDA: Trying to get out?
MULDER: Excuse me.
LYDA: No, no. You can't get out that way.
Mulder hesitates, then pokes her in the shoulder. She is solid. He pushes her against the wall.
Mulder opens the door and is confronted by another brick wall.
LYDA: I don't know who you're calling a frump but I don't appreciate that-- being manhandled, or called names. Certainly not at this hour.
Lyda's voice has come from a different direction now, as she climbs down the ladder which has mysteriously reappeared.
MULDER: You're a ghost.
LYDA: Oh, more names!
Mulder climbs down the ladder.
MULDER: What happened to the star-crossed lovers?
LYDA: Oh, let me tell you the romance is the first thing to go.
Mulder realizes who she is.
MULDER: It's you. You're Lyda, and that was Maurice. But you've aged.
LYDA: I hope your partner finds you a lot more charming than I do.
She prances to the bookcase.
LYDA: Let's see. Where is it?
Lyda mutters as, by themselves, books pull out of and then return to the bookcase. Mulder is fascinated.
LYDA: No, no, no, no...
She continues muttering.
LYDA: ...there it is.
She selects a book - The Ghosts Who Stole Christmas by R. Grimes.
LYDA: I was young and beautiful once, just like your partner.
She goes over and sits in a chair, looking through the book.
LYDA: Whoo! Look at us. Maurice was so handsome.
The fire blazes up in the fireplace.
LYDA: He didn't have a gut.
She hands Mulder the book which has a picture of an attractive couple in it - chapter title - Tale of the Star Crossed Lovers.
LYDA: I hope you're not expecting any great advantages to all this.
MULDER: To all what?
LYDA: I'm assuming you came here with similar misconceptions.
MULDER: We came here looking for you.
LYDA: Oh, yeah? You didn't come here to be together for eternity?
LYDA: Because you're filled with despair and woeful Christmas melancholy?
LYDA: Maybe it was your partner, then.
Mulder crosses his arms over his chest.
MULDER: What about her?
LYDA: You knew this house was haunted.
LYDA: Maybe you two should have discussed your real feelings before you came out here. I'm speaking from experience.
MULDER: What experience?
LYDA: I'm not going to get into semantics. A murder-suicide is all about trust.
MULDER: I thought you had a lovers' pact.
LYDA: Poetic illusions aside, the outcome, Mulder, is pretty much the same.
Lyda stands and holds open her robe exposing the bullet wound. Mulder is shocked.
LYDA: I don't show my hole to just anyone.
He is rather disgusted.
MULDER: Why are you showing it to me?
LYDA: It isn't like you're going to be eating any Christmas ham, is it?
MULDER: Oh, you're trying to tell me that Scully's going to shoot me. Scully is not going to shoot me.
LYDA: Suit yourself, but if you shoot first, for her the rest is an act of faith.
MULDER: I wouldn't shoot her.
LYDA: Maybe she shoots herself.
Mulder responds confidently.
MULDER: I wouldn't let her.
LYDA: The bodies under the floor-- maybe that was just some kind of Jungian symbolism. Or maybe... there's a *secret* lovers' pact.
Mulder sighs with a smile.
MULDER: We're not lovers.
LYDA: And this isn't a pure science. But you're both so attractive and there'll be a lot of time to work that out.
She holds a gun out to him.
LYDA: Go ahead, take it.
Mulder quickly checks his holster and finds that the gun is missing.
LYDA: Take it. Think of it as the last Christmas you'll ever spend alone.
Lyda disappears letting the gun fall into a surprised Mulder's hand.
Scully's version of the library. Scully wakes up from her faint and looks around holding her gun and flashlight. She tries one locked door, then the other. Maurice is sitting in one of the chairs.
MAURICE: I locked it. For your protection.
Scully whips around to face him. Maurice stands up.
SCULLY: Stay away from me. Look, I want you to get me out of here. I am quite capable of pulling this trigger.
MAURICE: I'm glad to hear it. You may well have to defend yourself against that crazy partner of yours.
SCULLY: What have you done with him?!
MAURICE: Kept him safe from his own mad devices-- at least for now. Do you have any idea why he brought you here to this house?
SCULLY: Look, all I know is this is just some bad dream. This is all in my head.
MAURICE: Yet here you are waving a gun at me like your partner.
There is a pounding at the door. Mulder is outside the door.
MULDER: Hey, Scully!
MAURICE: Do you realize how seriously disturbed that man is? How dark and lonely? What he's capable of?
Scully starts to run to the door, but stops for Maurice.
MAURICE: Want your car keys?
Maurice dangles her car keys in front of her. She stares at them.
SCULLY: Where did you get those?
MAURICE: He's got nowhere to go this Christmas. No one to go with. Did he happen to mention a story about a lovers' pact?
SCULLY: Where did you get those keys?
MAURICE: The man is acting out an unconscious yearning. The deep-seated terror of being alone.
More pounding on door.
MULDER: Scully... Scully, are you there?!
SCULLY: I'm here, Mulder!
MULDER: Open the door, Scully!
Scully takes the keys from Maurice.
SCULLY: Open the door.
Maurice goes reluctantly to the door.
MAURICE: I've seen it happen too many times in this house.
SCULLY: I don't believe you. Just open the door.
SCULLY: Open the door!
Maurice opens the door and Mulder enters the room, gun drawn.
MULDER: Where's Scully?
Mulder turns to face her and fires his gun at her. Mulder, holding his gun keeps advancing on Scully. She holds her gun, but doesn't fire. He fires, shattering a mirror behind her.
SCULLY: Mulder, what are you doing?
He fires again.
MULDER: There's no getting out of here, Scully. There's no way home.
SCULLY: Mulder, come on... Mulder, don't come any closer. You're scaring me. Put the gun down!
MULDER: You going to shoot me?!
SCULLY: I'm not going to shoot you! I don't want to shoot you!
Mulder responds maniacally.
MULDER: It's me or you... You or me. One of us has to do it.
SCULLY: Mulder, look... We don't have to do this.
MULDER: Oh, yes, we do.
SCULLY: We can get out of here.
MULDER: Even if we could what's waiting for us? More loneliness! And then 365 more shopping days till even more loneliness!
SCULLY: I don't believe what you're saying! Mulder, I don't believe a word of it.
Mulder lowers the angle of the gun and fires. Scully drops her gun and stares down in shock at the bullet wound in her abdomen. She looks back up at Mulder who is biting his lower lip as if in pain himself, but still has a wild look in his eyes. Slowly she falls to the floor, still staring up at him.
MULDER: Merry Christmas, Scully.
Mulder raises the gun to his own temple. Camera angle changes, showing us that is not Mulder, but Lyda.
LYDA: And a happy New Year.
Maurice walks over and restrains Mulder/Lyda from firing the gun.
MULDER/LYDA: Let me go!
Camera angle changes. We see again that it is Lyda. Scully still sees Mulder.
LYDA: Let me go!
LYDA: Let me go... Let me go...
MULDER/LYDA: Let me go!
Mulder entering another version of the library. Scully lies bleeding on the floor. He runs to her side.
SCULLY: Mulder... Is that you?
MULDER: What did you do?
SCULLY: I didn't believe it, Mulder.
MULDER: You didn't believe what?
SCULLY: I didn't believe that you'd do it... That I would...
Mulder looks down and sees that she has raised her gun to his chest.
SCULLY: Merry Christmas, Mulder.
Mulder doesn't pull away.
MULDER: What are you doing?
She fires the gun. Mulder, in shock falls back, bleeding from the chest.
Lyda, lying where Mulder just perceived Scully, giggles happily. Old phonograph player begins playing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." .
Scully, who is alone on the floor, groggily rolls over and begins pulling herself out of the room.
MUSIC: Have yourself a merry little Christmas Let yourself be light From now on, your troubles will be out of sight.
Mulder is stumbling down the stairs, bleeding heavily.
MUSIC: Have yourself a merry little Christmas Make the Yuletide gay From now on, our troubles will be miles away Here we are, as in olden days...
Mulder reaches and falls into the foyer which has a trail of blood across it. He sees Scully a few feet away, crawling toward the front door.
MUSIC: Happy golden days of yore Faithful friends who are dear to us Gather near to us...
MUSIC: Through the years, we all will be together...
Scully rolls over painfully and points her gun at Mulder. Mulder manages to point his gun at her.
MUSIC: Until then, we'll have...
Scully whispers as she lowers the gun and falls back on to the floor.
SCULLY: Ah... I'm not going to make it.
Mulder continues to point his gun at her.
MULDER: No, you're not... Not without me, you're not.
SCULLY: Are you afraid, Mulder?
She is gasping.
SCULLY: I am.
MULDER: I am, too.
They both roll over painfully.
MUSIC: Faithful friends who are dear to us Gather near to us...
MULDER: You should have thought of this.
SCULLY: You should have.
MULDER: You shot me first!
SCULLY: I didn't shoot you! You shot me.
MUSIC: If the fates allow Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow...
With dawning realization, Mulder stands up.
MULDER: Get up.
SCULLY: I can't.
MULDER: Get up... You're not shot.
Mulder holds his bloody shirt away from his stomach.
MULDER: It's a trick. It's all in your head.
He pulls Scully to her feet and holds out her bloody shirt. She looks down, then they both run out the now unlocked front door. Once outside, they look down at their now clean shirts, then run to their cars and drive off quickly.
MUSIC: Faithful friends who are dear to us Gather near to us once more Through the years, we all will be together If the fates allow Hang a shining star upon the highest bough And have yourself a merry... little Christmas now.
Inside, clock begins striking twelve. Maurice and Lyda are sitting in the library.
LYDA: You hear that? It's Christmas.
MAURICE: One for the books.
LYDA: We almost had those two, didn't we?
MAURICE: Almost had them.
LYDA: Two such lonely souls.
MAURICE: We can't let our failures haunt us.
LYDA: You wonder what they were really out here looking for.
MAURICE: Hard to say. People now... This is just another joyless day of the year.
LYDA: Not for us.
MAURICE: No. We haven't forgotten the meaning of Christmas.
They hold hands and fade away.
Mulder's apartment a little later, still dark outside. Mulder, still dressed in his jacket, is on his couch watching a black and white version of A Christmas Carol. He looks rather depressed.
TV SCROOGE: I don't deserve to be so happy. I can't help it. I just can't help it.
TV NARRATOR: Scrooge was better than his word. He became as good a friend, as good a master and as good a man as the good old city ever knew or any other good old city, town or borough in the good old world. And to Tiny Tim...
There is a knocking sound. He looks up first, then realizes it is his door. He looks around the corner of the room, then shuts off the TV and opens the door. It is Scully, also still dressed as before.
SCULLY: I, uh... I couldn't sleep. I was, um...
SCULLY: Can I come in?
Mulder puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her into the apartment and closes the door. They are both exhausted.
MULDER: Come in. Aren't you supposed to be opening Christmas gifts with your family?
SCULLY: Mulder... None of that really happened out there tonight. That was all in our heads, right?
Mulder is unsure of what to say.
MULDER: I-it must have been.
SCULLY: Mmm. Not that, uh, my only joy in life is proving you wrong.
MULDER: When have you proved me wrong?
SCULLY: Well... Why else would you want me out there with you?
MULDER: You didn't want to be there?
Scully has no answer. They both think about it.
MULDER: Oh, that's, um... That's self-righteous and... narcissistic of me to say, isn't it?
SCULLY: No, I mean... Maybe I did want to be out there with you.
They look at each other for a moment.
MULDER: Now, um... I know we said that we weren't going to exchange gifts but, uh... I got you... a little something.
With a shy smile, he holds out a small wrapped tubular present - about the size of a short paper towel roll insert.
MULDER: Merry Christmas.
SCULLY: Well, I got you a little something, too.
Embarrassed she holds out a small rectangular wrapped gift - size of a small book, or a video. He chuckles as they take each other's presents. He shakes his, and she grins happily, then like kids they run over to the couch and begin opening their gifts as the camera pans away outside the window through the falling snow.
BING CROSBY: Have yourself a merry little Christmas now.