The X-Files: I Want to Believe

Keep it straight!

Come on, straight.

Give him room!

Hold the line, gentlemen! Look left! Look right!

Hold the line!

It's here. It's here.

Hey, calm down, Buddy. Hey.

Let him go. Let him go. Let him go.

Let him go. Let him go.

Easy, easy. Let him go! Let him go, let him go.

Here. Here, it's here.

- It's here! - Back up. Give him some room.

I've gone over the charts you've sent...

and consulted another pediatric neurologist who works with me here.

- We're alarmed by two things. - Deficiency in lipid metabolism...

- ...and diminished enzyme output. - Right. That's exactly right.

Both indicate lysosomal storage illness.

You're the boy's primary physician, Dr...?

Scully. Dana Scully.

You tested his lysosome function?

I think you have all my results there, doctor.

My fear is that it's a type-two, degenerative brain disease...

like Sandhoff disease...

that his enzymes aren't clearing lipids from his brain, causing atrophy.

If you suspect Sandhoff disease, I'd test the boy's levels of hexosaminidase.

I've done that. What I'm looking for here, doctor...

is a course of treatment.

There is no treatment for Sandhoff.

But if there were, I'm sure you'd tell me.

Hi, Christian. How are you feeling?

Okay, Dr. Scully. How are you?

Me? Well, I'm doing just fine, thank you.

You got some outside opinions?

Yes. We're gonna do some more tests.

Dana Scully?

Dr. Scully, I'm looking for Fox Mulder.

Excuse me.

- Special Agent Drummy with... - I can guess who you're with.

The FBI urgently needs to speak with Fox Mulder.

I don't work with Fox Mulder any longer. I don't work with the FBI.

Well, if you could contact him...

it might just save the life of an FBI agent.

What's up, doc?

You've become awfully trusting, Mulder...

for a man wanted by the FBI.

Eyes in the back of my head, Scully.

"Auf einer Wellenlänge," as the Germans say.

It's a precognitive state often confused with intuition...

in which the brain perceives the deep logic...

underlying transitory human existence, unaided by the conscious mind...

materializing much as you did just now.

Though if you'd actually materialized, you'd be rapidly dematerializing.

But who believes that crap anymore?

Well, they do at the FBI, apparently. I had a visitor today, Mulder.

The FBI wants your help finding a missing agent.

I hope you told them to screw themselves.

They say all is forgiven.

That they'll drop all charges against you if you come in and help them solve this.

The FBI will forgive me?

They put me on trial on bogus charges and tried to discredit a decade of work.

They should be asking me for my forgiveness.

I think they are. Desperately.

How can I possibly help these people?

Someone's come forward with some promising evidence.

- A psychic, he claims. - Ah.

It's a trick, Scully, to smoke me out.

If the FBI wanted to get you, I have no doubt that they could.

I think they've been happy to have you out of their hair.

Good. I am just as happy having them out of mine.

A young agent's life is at stake.

Mulder, I know I don't have to say this, but it could have been you once.

Or me.

You know, the truth is, I worry about you...

and the effects of long-term isolation.

I'm fine here.

I'm happy as a clam.

I'll tell them your answer.

Shit.

Okay, I'll go.

Under one condition.

Thanks for the lift.

Don't thank me. I didn't send it.

Wait here.

Come in.

Excuse me. They're here.

Thanks for making this happen. I'm Special Agent in Charge Whitney.

- Dana Scully. - Fox Mulder, I believe?

I know this is awkward. Welcome back. My team and I appreciate your trust.

Well, trust being what it is, what if I can't help you?

Or your agent turns up dead?

The past is the past.

I know your work on X-Files cases...

and believe you may be the best chance Monica Bannan has now.

- How long has she been missing? - Since Sunday evening.

Almost three days.

I know you know this, but after 72 hours...

- ...there's slim chance she's still alive. - We have slim reason to believe she is.

So far, we've got no evidence to the contrary...

and the facts give us hope.

Soon after she goes missing, A severed arm.

- Where? - About 10 miles from her home.

I don't understand. It's a man's arm.

Is it a match for evidence found at or near the crime scene? Blood or tissue?

Blood. Found in her garage and on the tool that matches the wound.

- You were led to it? - Like a needle in a haystack.

By someone claiming psychic powers.

Joseph Fitzpatrick Crissman.

- And you think he's full of shit. - What makes you say that?

Psychic.

- Father Joe was... - Father?

- He was a priest? - Catholic.

He cold-called six hours after Monica Bannan was reported missing...

claiming a vision of her. A psychic connection.

- And he tells you she's alive? - That's right.

Have you found any other connection?

- To Monica Bannan? - No. That's why I sent for you.

- I need to know we're not wasting time. - Well...

he's a religious man, clearly. Educated man.

He took right action, said nothing to cast doubt upon himself...

has no connection to the crime. You're wasting time...

only it's mine and your agents'.

There's a question of credibility.

If you have no reason to doubt the man, why doubt the man's visions?

He didn't lead us to Monica Bannan. He gave us a guy's bloody arm in the snow.

This is not an exact science. If it were me, I'd be on the guy 24/7.

I'd be in bed with him, kissing his holy ass.

Father Joe's a convicted pedophile.

Maybe I'd stay out of bed with him.

What is this?

- Dorms for habitual sex offenders. - Dorms?

They manage the complex and police themselves.

Father Joe lives here voluntarily with his roommate.

Just avoid the activities room.

Joe?

Tell them to come in.

Father Joe?

Excuse the mess. I haven't been sleeping.

Father Joe, this is Fox Mulder.

- Okay. - He'd like to ask some questions.

Actually, I'd like to ask something.

What was it you were praying for in there, sir?

- For the salvation of my immortal soul. - Do you think God hears your prayers?

- Do you think he hears yours? - I didn't bugger 37 altar boys.

Oh.

- That's a colorful way of putting it. - I have another word.

I'm sure you do.

I have to believe he does hear me, or why would he send these visions?

Maybe it's not God doing the sending.

You call them visions. You see them?

In what you might call my mind's eye.

What do you see?

I see the poor girl being assaulted.

I see her putting up a fight.

- I hear dogs barking. - Where?

Can't tell.

- But you see her alive. - No, but I...

I feel that she is.

Can you show us how you do it?

I don't know that I can do this right now.

Maybe it'd be better if she wasn't here.

Maybe what you see is a way to try and make people forget...

what it is that you really are.

Jesus, Mulder.

So much for kissing his holy ass.

I'm sorry.

I've been too long away from this business. Or not long enough.

No, you were good in there.

All I had were questions. But you pushed him, you challenged him.

Like old times.

Yeah, well, he's a creep. And a liar.

He knows who did this. They're supplying him with information.

Look where he lives. And this arm they found?

This wasn't severed in any fight. It was cut cleanly, chopped off.

And tell me how he's been able to lead them straight to it...

and not even muster a guess as to where the victim is.

Two things you're gonna find in the next 24 hours:

A dead agent, and that this guy, Father Joe, is a big, fat fraud.

You could be right, Scully.

You could be right.

But what if you're wrong?

- What are you doing? - Gonna take him for a ride.

See just how psychic this Father Joe really is.

Yeah, well, it's been fun.

Scully? Nobody's gonna make you sit next to him.

Thanks, but I've already been taken for a ride. Anyway, he doesn't want me there.

- I want you here. - This isn't my life anymore, Mulder.

I'm done chasing monsters in the dark.

I think you've done all they've asked of you here too.

You know, no one says you have to stay here.

These people need my help.

And I could really use yours.

- Are we getting warm? - You tell us.

I don't know I have a clue of where we are.

That's all right. Everybody works differently.

Who are you, the good cop?

I'm the non-cop.

I don't know this girl. This Agent Bannan of yours.

I haven't a clue of the connection.

There's always something, however small.

And who made you the expert?