Night. Street. We open on a large warning notice, printed on yellow poster paper, stuck to an external brick wall.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE!

AN AREA CLEANING WILL COMMENCE ON:

MONDAY

FEBRUARY 8, 2016

AT 5:00 A.M.

Suddenly the notice is doused in water from a high pressure hose and washed off the graffiti-covered wall. The hose is held by a man dressed in yellow waterproofs, who is slowly walking down the sidewalk and spraying water on the many homeless people who are sleeping and taking refuge against the building. Their belongings are caught in the spray, their bags and carts pulled away by the cleanup crew.

A man in his mid-40s, JOSEPH CUTLER, is following the water jet, berating the homeless people for not having moved on already.

CUTLER: You people were told this was coming. This is the first phase in a relocation project that will see you transferred to the old Franklin Hospital in Bucks County!

An officious-looking man drinking soup and a police officer in riot gear are watching the operation unfold in the background.

CUTLER: Any personal items collected tonight by the US Department of Housing and Urban Development can be retrieved... at our field office at 1804 South Walnut Street.

His assistant is standing behind him. CUTLER surveys the operation before turning to his assistant.

CUTLER: Which is where I'll be.

He takes a final look before heading to his car.

CUTLER: Hey, give me a ride back to the field office.

They leave. The officious-looking man, still watching, takes another good slurp of soup.

CUTLER's car pulls up outside the building. Dozens more homeless people occupy the sidewalks, their carts and bags full of all their worldly possessions. CUTLER gets out of the car and heads towards the entrance to the Field Office.

CUTLER: Your street is next! Tomorrow morning! You've been warned!

As he climbs the short flight of steps leading into the building he jabs his finger on another printed eviction notice, stuck to the wall by the entrance:

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE!

AN AREA CLEANING WILL COMMENCE ON:

TUESDAY

FEBRUARY 9, 2016

AT 5:00 A.M.

The wind suddenly starts to pick up. A low rumbling. A crumpled drinks can starts to shake on the sidewalk. The warning poster starts to flutter in the breeze. A homeless woman pushing a cart full of her possessions looks back, ominously. Other homeless people start to panic: some leaving, others retreating into their tents so they are not seen. The wind, stronger still, pulls the warning poster off the wall and it flies off into the night.

HOMELESS PERSON: Hey! Hey, come on!

Later. The street is deserted. A large refuse truck pulls up outside the building. It stops for several seconds, its engine idling, before driving off. We see a lone figure, dressed in a long dark trench coat, standing in the road behind where the truck came to a halt. The figure turns towards the building, before walking over to the entrance, his lumbering footsteps ringing out into the night.

Inside the building. CUTLER is in his office. He squirts some antibacterial gel onto his hands from a dispenser on his desk. He picks up his cell phone and makes a call.

CUTLER: Landry. Cutler. You still down there? Everything okay? Any problems?

His sniffs. Suddenly he snorts heavily, losing his breath. He coughs.

CUTLER: Oh.

He hangs up the phone. The lights suddenly fizzle out, plunging the room into darkness. More lumbering footsteps. Metallic thuds sounding like pipes being struck with a hammer.

CUTLER: Somebody out there?

Through the frosted glass of his office door we see a large silhouetted figure approach the office. It stops in front of the door. CUTLER, starting to panic, dials 911 and pulls open his desk draw, reaching for his gun.

CUTLER: This is Joseph Cutler. I'm at 1809 South Walnut. There's an intruder.

He holds out his gun, aiming it on the figure standing the other side of his office door.

911 OPERATOR: Sir, we're notifying the police. Are you in danger?

CUTLER holds the phone to his ear but says nothing, too petrified to talk. The silhouetted figure gets larger as it steps towards the door.

911 OPERATOR: Hello? Sir, tell us what's happening. Hello?

The office door suddenly explodes into the room. Shards of glass fly through the air. The huge, barefoot figure walks over the floor strewn with broken glass towards CUTLER, who tries to draw his gun, but it is too late. The hulking figure grabs CUTLER and dismembers him using just his hands. The figure stands motionless, his arms outstretched, holding CUTLER's freshly-severed arms by the wrists.

911 OPERATOR: (On phone) Sir, are you there?

A short time later. The figure leaves the building through a side exit, carrying CUTLER's arms. The refuse truck is waiting for him at the kerbside. He loads the remains into the back of the truck, before climbing in and lying down in the trash. The compactor lowers and closes over the two bodies, and the truck drives off, into the deserted street.

Day. CUTLER's office. A FORENSIC TECH is photographing a bloody print on the ground. 2 pairs of suited and booted feet enter, walking over the broken glass on the floor. It's MULDER and SCULLY. They hold up their FBI IDs for the tech to inspect.

SCULLY: I'm Special Agent Dana Scully, and this is Special Agent Fox Mulder.

The FORENSIC TECH looks at the badges before calling out to his superior, DETECTIVE DROSS.

FORENSIC TECH: Detective?

DROSS: How you doing? I'm Aaron Dross. I called the Bureau. They said that you two have experience with these, um... spooky cases.

MULDER pouts.

DROSS: Well, I don't want to be confrontational here, but, uh...

MULDER: It wouldn't be Philadelphia without a certain degree of confrontation, right?

DROSS: Look, all I'm saying is just because I called for a hand doesn't mean I'm looking to pass off this investigation to you.

MULDER kneels down. We see a very large bloodstain in the middle of the office floor.

SCULLY: I'm sure I don't have to point out to you, Detective, that the FBI has jurisdiction over the murder of a federal employee.

MULDER: (To the FORENSIC TECH) Have you tried polyvinyl siloxane to try to lift the print?

FORENSIC TECH: It's not that I can't lift a print, it's just... there's no prints to lift. A footprint is here, but there are no ridges.

MULDER and SCULLY are now both kneeling down, inspecting the print.

MULDER: Well, it looks like this person was born without footprints. Which is impossible... by the way.

SCULLY: (Looking up towards DROSS) Where was the victim found?

DROSS: He's still here.

With no obvious body, SCULLY looks perturbed by this. She stands up. DROSS moves towards CUTLER'S desk.

DROSS: He's there.

He points to a bloody torso lying behind the desk.

DROSS: And, uh, his head... is in a trash can here.

DROSS motions down to the waste basket next to his feet.

MULDER: (Deadpan) Not even in the proper recycling bin.

DROSS: Both arms are gone, too. Must have been a sword or machete.

SCULLY: The supraspinatus and the deltoideus appear to be shredded from the torso, not severed, as do the other points of separation.

DROSS: So what are you telling me, that he was pulled apart?

SCULLY: Well, I don't think that would be possible for a... for a single human being.

MULDER looks out of the office window. On a large, blank billboard atop a low rise building nearby we see a large, full-length mural of a man wearing a knee-length trench coat, his arms hanging by his side. The black-painted mural is almost 2 storeys high.

DROSS: (To MULDER) You know, the homeless out there, they hate this guy, this Cutler. See him as a reason for them having to relocate out to the old Franklin Hospital.

SCULLY's cell phone starts to vibrate. She takes it out of her pocket. The caller display shows "William". It rings off, then rings again. The caller display shows "William Scully Jr.".

MULDER: When a medieval prisoner was drawn and quartered, it took four horses charging off in four directions at full speed to tear him apart.

SCULLY's phone rings again. She can't not answer it now.

SCULLY: (On phone) Bill, I'm at a crime scene. Is everything okay? Are you still in Germany?

SCULLY stands up slowly, distraught.

SCULLY: Okay. Okay.

MULDER: (Concerned) Scully?

SCULLY: That was, uh... that was my brother. He just... The EMTs found his phone number. Uh, my mom's just had a heart attack. She's in ICU in DC.

SCULLY is in shock. MULDER steps over towards her, putting his hands on her arm for comfort.

MULDER: You go. Go.

SCULLY: Yeah.

He watches SCULLY leave the office. She grabs the door frame as she rounds the door for support. As he looks up over the door MULDER notices the security camera in the office has been deliberately turned away from its intended viewpoint.

MULDER is reviewing the security footage from the office. We see video from 4 cameras displayed in a grid on a computer screen. One by one, the first 3 cameras are disabled.

MULDER: Here are the four mounted security cameras. There's the first one knocked out of position. Then the second one. And the third. And I saw that Cutler's was knocked out. But Cutler's eye-line is trained above the door, about Tim Duncan height. We can eliminate any 76ers, 'cause those guys can't find the rim.

MULDER goes back to the footage. He notices something.

MULDER: Oh. Look at that. The billboard outside Cutler's office. At the time of the murder, there's no artwork on it or graffiti.

MULDER shows DROSS the black figure painted on the billboard opposite.

MULDER: That street art was put up this morning. After Cutler's murder. Maybe the artist that put it up there is saying something or saw something. I'm gonna see if it's signed or if anybody knows who made it.

DROSS: (Agreeing) Yeah.

They leave the office. As they pass a small drinks station in the hallway MULDER stops as he hears something squish underfoot. He lifts his leg, turns his ankle to reveal the bottom of his shoe, and notices a small Band-Aid stuck to the sole of his shoe. Using a paper napkin he carefully peels it off. It's very sticky and bloodstained. He straightens up to better look at the Band-Aid. The smell is noxious. He grabs a few more paper napkins to preserve it as evidence and heads out after DROSS.

SCULLY enters the corridor leading into a small cardiac ward in the medical center. She pauses as she notices her mother, MARGARET SCULLY, lying in one of the beds. She is connected to a ventilator and unconscious.

SCULLY slowly walks over to the bed. She takes her mother's hand in one of hers and affectionately strokes her mother's forehead with her other.

SCULLY: Mom.

A nurse, NURSE TAILLIE, walks over to the bed.

NURSE TAILLIE: Are you related to Margaret?

SCULLY: Yes, I'm her daughter. I'm Dana (pause) Scully.

NURSE TAILLIE: She regained consciousness for a few moments. She repeatedly asked for someone named Charlie?

SCULLY: Charlie's... my brother, her youngest son. They were estranged.

NURSE TAILLIE: Oh, I thought you'd want to know.

SCULLY: She didn't ask for me, or, or Bill? Or her grandchildren?

NURSE TAILLIE: (Shaking her head) Just Charlie.

NURSE TAILLIE walks away, leaving SCULLY and MARGARET together in the empty ward. SCULLY leans in, caressing her mother's cheek with the back of her hand.

SCULLY: Hi, Mom. It's me, Dana. I'm here. I've been where you are. I know that Ahab is there. And Melissa. But, Mom, I'm here. Bill Jr.'s here. And William. William's here. And Charlie... is here. Please, Mom, don't go home yet. I need you.

Fade to black.

Day. Outside the H.U.D. Field Office. MULDER exits the main entrance. A uniformed POLICE OFFICER is waiting outside on the sidewalk.

MULDER: Hey, Officer?

POLICE OFFICER: Mm-hmm.

MULDER points up at the mural on the billboard behind the building.

MULDER: I'm gonna need access to the roof of that building.

POLICE OFFICER: Yes, sir.

MULDER: All right?

The POLICE OFFICER heads off to sort out access. Whilst he stands looking up at the mural, MULDER overhears raised voices - one male, one female - on the street around the corner from the building.

WOMAN: Landry, I'm not finished with you!

MAN: Look, look, this street gets cleaned out tomorrow morning.

WOMAN: Not after I get an injunction. This street is a crime scene.

MAN: Are you blaming these poor people for Joseph's murder?

WOMAN: Doesn't his murder convince you how much these people hate what you're doing to them?

MAN: Are you threatening me?

WOMAN: I've been threatening you for six months.

MAN: Well, stop.

MULDER approaches, holding his ID out in front of him.

MULDER: Special Agent Mulder with the FBI. And who are these two fine representatives of the City of Brotherly Love?

WOMAN: Hmm.

We see the male is the soup eater from earlier.

LANDRY: Daryl Landry. I've been working with Joseph Cutler. We've been redeveloping this area.

MULDER: Mm-hmm. And you are? And why do you think someone down here killed him?

HUFF: Nancy Huff. I'm the president of the Central Bucks County school board. And this... douchebag and Cutler are moving...

MULDER: Oh, you guys married? (Pause) No?

HUFF: To him? No.

MULDER: Oh. "Douchebag." I thought maybe...

HUFF: Yeah, him and Cutler are moving these poor homeless out of this area in order to build a ten-story apartment building to kick-start gentrification.

LANDRY: The old Franklin State Hospital is in her district, just sitting there empty. We're taking these poor people out of the downtown to that facility, away from the drug bazaar, the rats, the urine in the streets.

HUFF: I want these people to be safe and comfortable as much as anyone. I come down here every Thanksgiving and serve turkey dinners.

MULDER: Oh. (Pause) But?

HUFF: But the Franklin Hospital is just two blocks from Pennsbury High School. If one of these... downtown people killed Cutler, would you want that person moved near your children?

MULDER: Okay, okay, okay.

Turning to HUFF

MULDER: I hear you speaking for them, but really you're speaking for yourself.

Turning to LANDRY

MULDER: And I hear you speaking for them, but really speaking for yourself. What I don't hear is who speaks for them.

A voice interrupts their conversation and provides the answer. Leaning against a large commercial trash bin in dirty clothes is a dreadlocked man. He points up towards the billboard.

HOMELESS MAN: The Band-Aid Nose Man.

They all turn towards him. MULDER walks over, his interest piqued.

MULDER: Band-Aid Nose Man? What is that? That's... the name of the artist? Who is that? You know where I can find him?

The HOMELESS MAN skulks off. MULDER looks up at the billboard. It is blank. The black figure has gone, along with the plywood sheeting it was painted on.

Beatus Medical Center. SCULLY is sitting at her mother's bedside, rubbing her chin as she stares at her mother in deep thought.

We flashback to a much younger MULDER sitting at SCULLY's bedside in One Breath. Scene 15 if you're reading along.

MULDER: (Flashback) I don't know if my being here will help bring you back... but I'm here.

Back to the present day. SCULLY notices an envelope on the bedside table containing her mother's personal effects. We note her patient ID number is 171927. She picks up the envelope and empties its contents into her hand. Two gold rings and a silver quarter on a necklace. She examines the necklace more closely, holding the coin in the light to read its engravings.

Her cell phone buzzes. Caller ID says William Scully, Jr.

SCULLY: (On phone) Hey, Bill. What time is it where you are? What time is your flight from Frankfurt?

Nearby, a cardiac monitor flatlines. A nurse, followed by porters, prepare to dress and remove the deceased body from the ward. They work fast. SCULLY is all too aware of their speed.

SCULLY: (On phone) Oh. I think you should get here as soon as you can. (Listening) Oh, I can't... How am I to know that? (Listening) I-I won't answer as to whether she's going to die before you get here. (Listening) Bill, yes, I'm a doctor, but I'm also her daughter. (Listening) Well, we'll keep her on life support. That's... that's what she wanted. (Listening) Yes. Mom and I talked about it after my experience in a coma. (Listening) She said that she wanted us to do everything that we could to keep her alive. (Listening) Her advance directive is on the Living Will Registry. (Listening) Yes.

The porters wheel the recently-deceased patient out of the ward, passing directly in front of where SCULLY is sitting. She watches forlornly and sighs heavily, the closeness of death ever-apparent.

Laboratory. MULDER is sitting on one side of a lab bench; a white-coated scientist, JACK BUDD, sits on the other. A partition screen runs down the middle of the desk, a large window allowing MULDER to see BUDD's desk. The Band-Aid from CUTLER's office is illuminated in a Petri dish.

MULDER: Clean?

BUDD: So clean. There's nothing here.

MULDER: You can confirm that there's no presence of any pathogenic agents?

BUDD: No, Mulder. I mean, there's nothing. Something's there. Some material appears apparent, but it's also not there. I used backscattered electron imaging to separate and identify inorganic particles from organic materials, and I found neither. There's no organic material on this Band-Aid, but there's no inorganic material either. It's not alive. It's not dead.

MULDER fixates on the Band-Aid, intrigued.

Beatus Medical Center. SCULLY is standing, looking over the range of IV drips being given to her mother. NURSE TAILLIE approaches, holding a document.

SCULLY: Nurse? Is it wise to administer a hypertonic saline to a cardiac arrest patient?

NURSE TAILLIE: Agent Scully, we had to confirm your mother's advance directive, and it indicates that she not be resuscitated if unconscious or requires artificial respiration. (She hands SCULLY the document) She amended it last year. It's signed and witnessed by two retired naval officers.

SCULLY looks shocked. She turns to look at her mother. Suddenly MARGARET SCULLY's breathing becomes more laboured. Her eyelids flutter.

Day. Warehouse interior. Two would-be art thieves, PROUDLEY and FITZPATRICK, are wheeling in the recently-stolen billboard artwork on a large trolley. They rip off a layer of protective black plastic to reveal the large, black figure.

FITZPATRICK: Let's see what we got here.

PROUDLEY: Whew!

FITZPATRICK: This one's so big.

PROUDLEY: Yeah.

FITZPATRICK: This is new territory. It's not like him. We should go to Sotheby's on this.

PROUDLEY: Never knew you could make so much money off the homeless.

PROUDLEY laughs at their apparent good fortune.

FITZPATRICK: I'll call our usual collectors. Put that away.

PROUDLEY: Okay. I got it.

PROUDLEY slowly pushes the trolley further into the warehouse space. We lots lots of items covered in protective sheets and cloths. Professional photographic equipment for taking high quality images.

PROUDLEY: Let's go, buddy. All right.

He parks up the trolley and walks back. He starts to dial a number on his cell phone. The trolley suddenly rocks forwards and backwards before coming to a rest. PROUDLEY stops in his tracks. A fly buzzes. PROUDLEY turns back towards the artwork. The black figure on the artwork has disappeared. Confused, PROUDLEY walks around the artwork. The buzzing continues.

FITZPATRICK, working at a computer at a nearby desk, calls out to PROUDLEY.

FITZPATRICK: Hey? You input that new guy's number we met from last week?

His cell phone chirps as it receives a message. His eyes light up.

FITZPATRICK: The waitress from the bar? (Laughing) She's got a friend.

FITZPATRICK walks over to where PROUDLEY parked the trolley. He notices the billboard is blank.

FITZPATRICK: What are you doing? Why'd you turn it around, man? Those slats will mess up the paint.

As he approaches the trolley, he sees PROUDLEY's legs and feet sticking out from beside it. He walks around to berate his partner.

FITZPATRICK: Dude, what are you doing?

But as he rounds the trolley, FITZPATRICK finds his partner motionless, sat up on the floor with a black trash bag tied over his head. Suddenly the billboard crashes out of the way to reveal the BAND-AID NOSE MAN, who quickly overpowers the shocked FITZPATRICK and tears his head and arm cleanly from his torso.

Later. The BAND-AID NOSE MAN pulls the two lifeless bodies across the concrete floor to the open warehouse door, where the waiting refuse truck stands. The camera pans back to the blank billboard, spattered in blood, now tagged with the name "TRASHMAN".

Beatus Medical Center. SCULLY is sitting in one of two chairs at the foot of her mother's bed. The other chair is taken by DR COLQUITT, her mother's physician. SCULLY has her head down solemnly, as she fingers her mother's necklace in her hands.

DR COLQUITT: We have to extubate her. It's not necessarily termination, but we not only have to honor the law, Dana, we also have to respect your mother's wishes.

SCULLY's phone stars to vibrate. She picks it up. Caller ID states "William", then "Mulder". She answers.

SCULLY: Yeah.

We hear MULDER's voice on the phone and also in person, some distance away. The camera pans and we see him standing behind the closed ward doors, looking towards SCULLY. SCULLY notices him. She looks very relieved to see him.

MULDER: I'm here.

Night. Outside the H.U.D. Field Office. A large yellow school bus pulls up at the kerb. LANDRY is standing outside the entrance. Homeless people are milling around outside.

LANDRY: All right! Time to go to your new home. Everyone on the bus.

NANCY HUFF approaches, holding a crisp, white document in her hand.

HUFF: Excuse me.

LANDRY: Oh.

HUFF: This is an injunction against this operation, Landry. If any of these buses show up at Franklin Hospital, they'll be turned away by Bucks County sheriffs.

HUFF walks off. As the camera pans we see that a new mural of the BAND-AID NOSE MAN has been painted on a nearby red-brick building.

Beatus Medical Center. In the private corridor leading onto the ward, MULDER is sitting with SCULLY, who is still holding her mother's necklace in her hands.

MULDER: There was some artwork displayed outside Cutler's office after the murder. It was of a figure the people on the street believes defends them. The street artist that made the artwork goes by the name "Trashman". No-one knows his real name. Stays anonymous. No one's ever seen him. I suspect the subject may be a mission-oriented killer who believes he's helping the homeless by eliminating those involved with the relocation. And I would stay, but I suspect the subject will kill again.

SCULLY nods.

SCULLY: (Whispering) She asked for Charlie, before she fell into the coma.

MULDER: Your brother?

SCULLY: Yeah. Just him. Not Bill or me or... I don't even know where he is. He hasn't bothered with her or with us for years. Why would she do that?

MULDER gently shakes his head.

SCULLY: And why would she change her living will without talking to me?

MULDER leans back, breathing deeply. SCULLY now looks more intently at the necklace.

SCULLY: And what's this? Oh. I've never seen her wear it. (MULDER picks up the necklace to inspect it.) The-the-the date has no significance. It's not any of our birthdays. It's not dad's death or Melissa's. I mean, what is it about that quarter that she would frame it to put it around her neck?

Back at MARGARET SCULLY's bedside, DR COLQUITT, NURSE TAILLIE and another nurse are in discussion. A male RESIDENT joins them.

DR COLQUITT: Are you ready to extubate?

NURSE: Yes, Doctor.

DR COLQUITT: You have a stent on hand?

NURSE: Removing the tube.

DR COLQUITT: On her next exhale.

RESIDENT: Ready?

MULDER holds SCULLY close as they watch the medical staff extubate MARGARET SCULLY. SCULLY is distraught.

SCULLY: I don't care about the big questions right now, Mulder. I just want one more chance to ask my mum a few little ones.

Night. Rainy residential street. NANCY HUFF pulls up outside her large house, parking her SUV under a stone porch. Petula Clark's 1964 hit record "Downtown" is playing on the radio.

When you're alone and life is making you lonely

You can always go downtown

When you've got worries, all the noise and the hurry

Seems to help, I know downtown

She turns off the ignition and the music stops. She gets out. Once in the house she listens to a voicemail from her husband Tom, whilst eating a yogurt from the refrigerator in the kitchen.

TOM: (Voicemail) Hey, honey, letting you know I checked in at the hotel. I'll call you on the way to the meeting. Kids are good. They're staying at Ed and Melinda's. Love you.

Outside, bright headlights suddenly burst into life as a refuse truck appears ominously, cresting a small rise at the far end of her street.

Back inside the kitchen, HUFF throws her empty yogurt pot and spoon straight into her trash compactor. She flicks a switch and it rattles into life.

Outside, the refuse truck slows down to a stop outside her house.

HUFF starts to make a coffee using a Nespresso-type pod machine. She puts a paper cup under the dispenser. Low rumbling. Her phone starts to vibrate across the counter. She walks over to check it - assuming she has a new message - but the phone shows no new activity. She puts it down, annoyed.

"Downtown" starts to play again, as HUFF takes a large packet of unused coffee pods and throws them straight in the trash. We notice a soft drinks can much like the one we saw on the street earlier.

Outside on the street, the refuse truck drives off, leaving the BAND-AID NOSE MAN standing purposefully in the road.

When you're alone and life is making you lonely

You can always go downtown

When you've got worries, all the noise and the hurry

Seems to help, I know downtown

Inside, HUFF starts to walk around the house making sure all doors and windows are locked. Outside in the street, the BAND-AID NOSE MAN starts to approach the house.

Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city

Linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty

How can you lose?

The lights are much brighter there

You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares

As a storm rages outside, HUFF is shocked to notice spots of green sludge and maggots on her polished wooden stairs. As flashes of lightning fill the darkened house, we see BAND-AID NOSE MAN standing at the top of the stairs.

So go downtown

Things will be great when you're downtown

No finer place for sure, downtown

You're gonna be alright now, downtown

BAND-AID NOSE MAN starts to descend the stairs towards HUFF, who turns and runs. He catches her, but she fights back and hits him in the face, momentarily startling him and sending gobs of green puss flying. She runs through the house towards some French doors leading outside.

Downtown

Downtown

She gets to the doors but BAND-AID NOSE MAN appears in the window and it's too late for HUFF and her wasteful ways.

And you may find somebody kind to help and understand you

Someone who is just like you and needs a gentle hand to

Guide them along

Afterwards. BAND-AID NOSE MAN stuffs HUFF's dismembered body into the kitchen trash compactor, before flicking on the switch.

So maybe I'll see you there

We can forget all our troubles, forget all our cares

Later. Outside. His rubbish cleaned up, he throws the sack of trash into the back of the waiting refuse truck before climbing in after it. The truck's compactor lowers and closes and the truck heads off into the rainy night.

So go downtown

Things will be great when you're downtown

Everything is waiting for you, downtown

Downtown (downtown)

Downtown (downtown)

Downtown (downtown)

Downtown (downtown)

Beatus Medical Center. Night. A roll of thunder overhead. MULDER is sitting in a chair on one side of the bed, SCULLY in a chair on the other side. She has her eyes closed but is awake.

SCULLY: Back in the day, did... we ever come across the ability to just... wish someone back to life?

MULDER: I invented it. When you were in the hospital, like this.

SCULLY: You're a dark wizard, Mulder.

MULDER shrugs his shoulders and laughs.

MULDER: What else is new?

SCULLY's cell phone starts to vibrate on the bedside table. She answers.

SCULLY: (On phone) Hello? (Listening) Charlie. (Listening) Did Bill call you? Yeah. Um... Mum asked for you. Charlie, can you just say something to her, please? Just anything. I don't know. Just... (Listening) Do what I can't do. (Listening) Bring her back to us. (Listening) Okay. I'll put it on speakerphone.

SCULLY holds the phone near to her mother's ear.

SCULLY: I've got Charlie here. He's on the phone. I know you can hear him.

CHARLIE: Mom? It's me. It's Charlie. I heard you were asking for me, so... here I am, for once. What do you want to know? What's the big mystery?

SCULLY: Anything? Any reaction?

MULDER: Well, her pulse rate quickened, but I didn't see her move.

They both look at MARGARET. Her eyelids start to flutter, before her eyes open slowly. She looks around with her eyes, her head remaining still.

SCULLY: Mom? She just opened her eyes.

MULDER leans in.

MULDER: Do you know where you are? Do you know your name?

MARGARET turns her head slightly towards MULDER. MULDER holds her outstretched hand in his. She smiles up at him.

MARGARET SCULLY: My son... is named William, too.

MULDER shares a look with SCULLY. Suddenly MARGARET's gaze fixes, and her head turns as she exhales slowly.

SCULLY: (Worried) Mom? Mom? Mom. Mom, it's Dana.

The heart monitor flatlines. SCULLY holds her mother's face in her hands, willing her to come back.

SCULLY: Mom, I'm here. I'm here. Come back to us. Mom? Mom?

Her brother CHARLIE is still on the phone, unaware of the sudden change for the worse.

CHARLIE: (On phone) Dana? Dana?

SCULLY: Mom.

CHARLIE: (On phone) What's going on?

Tearing up, SCULLY leans forward, kissing her mother's forehead as she holds her mother's face in her hands. MULDER looks on.

Fade to black.

Beatus Medical Center. Later. Two hospital porters enter the ward pushing an empty gurney, its clattering wheels breaking the silence. SCULLY notices and turns to stop them.

SCULLY: No! You get that out of here! Get that out of here!

MULDER gently puts his arm around SCULLY's shoulders and leads her away from her mother's bedside.

MULDER: Scully! Scully! No. Margaret's an organ donor. They need her right away. Let her go.

SCULLY cries into MULDER's chest, clutching her mother's necklace. He holds her close, his chin on her head.

SCULLY: Her last words to us... were about our child. Her grandchild. That we gave away. Why did she say that? Why did she have to say that?

In the background, the efficient porters are now leaving the ward, pushing the noisy gurney with MARGARET SCULLY's body. SCULLY watches as her mother leaves the ward for the last time.

Drying her eyes with her hands and looking for an immediate distraction, SCULLY turns to MULDER.

SCULLY: Mulder, let's drive to Philadelphia. I need to work.

MULDER: No. No, no, no.

SCULLY: Yes. Right now.

MULDER: No, I get it, Scully, I do. But not right now.

SCULLY: Mulder, right now. I need to work right now.

SCULLY won't take no for an answer. She picks up her jacket and bag from the bedside and walks off towards the exit. MULDER stands there, concerned for her.

Laboratory. MULDER is sitting with JACK BUDD on one side of the glass window. SCULLY sits at the desk on the other side. A monitor shows some spectrographic plots.

BUDD: I broke down the paint samples you chipped away from the Trashman's signature and analyzed it with vibrational spectography. It defines binders, pigments and additives that are used in spray paint. The binder present in this breakdown was patented by a brand called Cannonz and used only in their high-end spray paints.

Whilst BUDD was talking SCULLY has been researching the brand up on her phone.

SCULLY: Product locator indicates there's only one store in Central Philadelphia that carries it.

MULDER gives her a "Let's Go" gesture through the window.

Day. SCULLY is sitting in the SUV, supposedly staking out the hardware store. But she's miles away, subconsciously fingering her mother's necklace as she sits in the driver's seat. A man exits the store, followed moments later by MULDER, who looks over towards the SUV. He whistles to get SCULLY's attention. It breaks her out of her trance, and she chastises herself for having drifted off.

SCULLY: Damn!

She fires up the SUV and heads after MULDER in pursuit of the suspect.

Day. Rear of a red-brick warehouse unit in a wooded area. The suspect from the store approaches the entrance, ducking through a hole in a wire fence. MULDER and SCULLY are in close pursuit behind. The man stops as he gets his keys out to unlock the warehouse door.

MULDER: Federal agents!

The man opens the door and enters into the unlit warehouse. MULDER and SCULLY follow. The man suddenly turns and draws a gun, but SCULLY, almost on autopilot, gets him into an armlock, down onto the ground and disarms him in a single, fluid motion. She holds the secured weapon out for MULDER to take as he starts to interrogate the man.

MULDER: We're looking for the Trashman.

Moments later. They are descending stairs into darkness.

MAN: I'm just letting you know, guys, from here on down, there's no light. Power's out.

The man suddenly gives them the slip and races back up the stairs into the light.

MULDER: What? I wasn't gonna shoot the kid. And I don't do stairs anymore.

SCULLY: Mulder, back in the day, I used to do stairs and in three-inch heels.

MULDER: "Back in the day." Scully, back in the day (lighting his torch) is now.

SCULLY turns her torch on and leads the way. MULDER, smiling, follows.

MULDER and SCULLY are exploring the pitch-black underground corridors of the warehouse. Torches drawn, they slowly make their way towards signs of life. Suddenly a white disfigured humanoid form shuffles across the corridor in the front of them. It hits the wall and falls to the ground. They draw their weapons.

SCULLY: What the hell?

They explore further, with both guns and torches drawn. They come to a closed metal door. Light emanates from the bottom of the doorway. MULDER bangs on the door.

MULDER: Federal agents! Open up! If you're in danger, we're here to help.

A male voice calls out from inside.

VOICE: I am in danger! But go away.

MULDER kicks open the door. They enter, guns drawn. They scan the room. We see a life-size clay sculpture of the BAND-AID NOSE MAN, its torso shrouded in black plastic and a clean band-aid stuck over its nostrils.

VOICE: Put the guns down! They don't work on them! Put them away! They don't work! I tried. I've tried to shoot them.

As they move deeper into the room they come across a man, cowering at the back of the dark room behind a shopping cart full of spray paint cans. They train their torches and guns on him.

MULDER: You the Trashman?

TRASHMAN: Turn down the light, man. Turn down the light. If they don't see me and I don't see them, they can't hurt me.

They turn their torches off.

Later. The TRASHMAN is sitting at his workbench, strewn with spray cans and lit with a few candles.

TRASHMAN: The people on the streets - the homeless, street people - they ain't got no voice, right? They get treated like trash. I mean, actual trash. It's like this. You throw your grande cup or your pop bottle in the right trash can under the sink - recyclables here, trash there - you tie it in a bag, you take it outside, you put it in the right dumpsters. Pat yourself on the head. You're a good person, yeah? You did the right thing, you fought global warming, you love all the little animals. Well, Friday come, Wednesday maybe, garbageman takes the trash away. It's not your problem anymore. Magic! But it is your problem, because it piles up in the landfill. And the plastics leak toxins into the water and the sky. But if you don't see a problem, there's no problem, right? People treat people like trash.

MULDER: So, what, you took care of the problem?

TRASHMAN: I did my part.

MULDER: By killing Joseph Cutler and Nancy Huff and those two art thieves?

TRASHMAN: Nah, I was just trying to give those people a voice the only way I know how - through art. Not violence. Something I can put around town, so they wouldn't be forgotten. A stencil that looked over the Bad Suit Building Man, looked down on the Lawn Gnome Suburban Lady...

MULDER: Well, why'd you put up the art after the fact? The morning of Cutler's murder?

TRASHMAN: I didn't. That, that... that wasn't me. I only thought him up. You know? Those people who got killed - that was only him.

MULDER: Him? Who, who is him?

TRASHMAN: You saw those things in the hall.

MULDER: Yeah.

TRASHMAN: I made them. I didn't mean to, but I made 'em. They'll go away, eventually. They're fading. But the Band-Aid Nose Man... he's different.

The camera pans ominously to the sculpture of the BAND-AID NOSE MAN.

TRASHMAN: Tibetan Buddhists would call him a Tulpa. A thought form using mind and energy to will a consciousness into existence.

MULDER: Tulpa is a 1929 Theosophist mistranslation of the Tibetan word "tulku," meaning "a manifestation body." There is no idea in Tibetan Buddhism of a thought form or thought as form. And a... and a realized tulku would never harm anyone, let alone kill.

TRASHMAN: Okay. But I'm telling you. I spend a lot of energy in my art. I, uh, meditated on it. I willed it.

Flashback to the TRASHMAN at his desk, sketching.

TRASHMAN: What I wanted him to look like, what I wanted him to be, and why I wanted him.

Flashback to SCULLY giving birth.

TRASHMAN: I didn't bring him here. He came to me.

Flashback. A baby cries. It's WILLIAM. We see his bassinet mobile turning by itself.

TRASHMAN: But in the end, he told me what he wanted to be. All we do is hold the pencil. All we do is hold the clay. I think there must be spirits and souls floating all around us. And if you think real hard, or you want them so bad... they come to you.

Flashback to SCULLY and MULDER holding WILLIAM.

MULDER: (Flashback) What are you gonna call him?

SCULLY: (Flashback) William.

TRASHMAN: And then they become alive with a life of their own.

Flashback to earlier at the hospital.

MARGARET SCULLY: My son... is named William, too.

Flashback to SCULLY and MULDER.

SCULLY: Our son, Mulder. I gave him up.

Back in the basement, the TRASHMAN is standing next to his BAND-AID NOSE MAN sculpture.

TRASHMAN: This... this is what came to me in my dreams. From some other place, yeah? But now it's alive and it's out there. Down to the Band-Aid I used to hold the clay in place. Who would copy this? And did you smell it? It smells like nothing on this Earth. It has its own life. Does what it wants. I just wanted to scare 'em, scare anyone that took dignity away from the homeless. That's where the violent idea popped in my head. It was just an emotion that ran through my head. An idea is dangerous, even a small one. But now he uses that violent idea. He thinks that is what he is supposed to do.

SCULLY is almost trance-like - holding her mother's necklace in her hands as the TRASHMAN's words focus her mind on WILLIAM and her mother.

SCULLY: You are responsible. If you made the problem, if it was your idea... then you're responsible. You put it out of sight, so that it wouldn't be your problem. But you're just as bad as the people that you hate.

MULDER: If what you believe is possible, the last person involved in the relocation would be Landry.

TRASHMAN: He got the injunction lifted. They're moving people out to Franklin Hospital tonight.

Day. An empty yellow school bus pulls up at the kerb. LANDRY is there, directing the relocation operation.

LANDRY: All right, all right. I'm paying a lot of good money for all this. Let's get going. Time to go home.

A queue of waiting homeless people slowly start to climb aboard the bus.

Cut back to the warehouse, where MULDER, SCULLY and the TRASHMAN finally exit back into daylight and cell phone coverage. They immediately make calls as they climb back through the wire fence.

SCULLY: (On phone) We're looking for Daryl Landry...

MULDER: (On phone) Mr. Landry, this is Agent Mulder. I need you to call me back. It's urgent.

Franklin Hospital. Day. The school bus pulls up outside the hospital building. People are milling up steps. Inside homeless people are being directed to rooms and being given bedding and other essentials from a desk. A HOMELESS MAN is asking a member of LANDRY's team about his dog as LANDRY himself approaches.

HOMELESS MAN: I want my dog. I said it. I didn't want to be be here if they wouldn't let me have my dog.

LANDRY overhears and interjects.

LANDRY: Sir, go to your room. The dogs have been sent to the shelter. I'm sure you can find it there.

The HOMELESS MAN stares as LANDRY leaves and makes his way down a corridor. Another of the relocated homeless tries to get his attention as he approaches her.

HOMELESS WOMAN: Mr. Landry, sir?

But he ignores her, waving her away and carrying on down the corridor.

Several steps later he suddenly stops. He coughs as an unpleasant smell overwhelms him. The homeless people milling around in the corridor suddenly disappear into their rooms. The corridor is eerily quiet. A fly buzzes in the air. LANDRY retches again at the smell. He starts to investigate the source of the smell and ventures into a disused part of the building.

LANDRY: Somebody down there? This area is off limits! Come back here to the rooms.

In a room at the end of a long, dark corridor, a light is buzzing on and off. On the floor, LANDRY notices the same spots of green pus that we saw in NANCY HUFF's house. He turns on his cell phone to use as a torch. His other hand covers his nose and mouth to provide some protection from the smell. He starts to look through the windows of closed doors leading off the corridor. Suddenly we see the shadow of a large figure flickering on the dimly lit wall. More flies buzzing. LANDRY turns and the BAND-AID NOSE MAN is suddenly standing behind him in the corridor. LANDRY starts to run towards the doorway at the end of the corridor as the BAND-AID NOSE MAN strides after him.

MULDER, SCULLY and the TRASHMAN are now in the hospital and are quickly tracing LANDRY's movements. They follow down the corridor.

Meanwhile, LANDRY is still trying to get away from the BAND-AID NOSE MAN. Looking back, he enters a doorway leading into a communal shower room with no obvious exits. The BAND-AID NOSE MAN follows. LANDRY retreats backwards into the communal shower stall, cowering as the BAND-AID NOSE MAN closes in on his next victim. LANDRY screams out.

Moments later, MULDER, SCULLY and the TRASHMAN arrive at the shower room. But it's too late for LANDRY. We see a bloodied, haphazard pile of various limbs, head and torso on the shower floor, his still-lit phone illuminating the room. TRASHMAN hangs back. MULDER and SCULLY inch forward.

SCULLY: There's one way out of this room. He just screamed seconds ago. How did we not see whoever did this to him leave the room?

As they look down, they see the bloodied tell-tale band-aid on the floor beside one of LANDRY's shoes.

Day. TRASHMAN's studio.

TRASHMAN is corralling a few belongings into a backpack and art supplies - paper and paint - into a large holdall. The camera pans onto the BAND-AID NOSE MAN sculpture. We see that instead of his usual fearsome face, an Acid House-esque round smiley face now sits atop his shoulders. As the TRASHMAN exits the building and climbs through the wire fence, we see the black figure of the BAND-AID NOSE MAN painted on the wall of the adjoining warehouse building.

A grey, overcast day. Lakeside. MULDER and SCULLY, dressed for a funeral, are sitting together at the end of a large, long-fallen tree trunk which lies on the lake's pebble-strewn shore. A black urn rests at SCULLY's feet.

SCULLY: I know now why Mom asked for Charlie, even though he was out of her life. She wanted to know before he left that he'd be okay. She gave birth to him. She made him. He's her responsibility. And that's why she said what she said to us. She wanted to make sure that we'd be responsible, to know that William's okay. Even though we can't see him. I know that, as parents, we made a difficult sacrifice, to keep him safe. That it was for his own good to put him up for adoption. But I can't help but think of him, Fox. I can't help it. I believe that you will find all of your answers. You will find the answers to the biggest mysteries, and I will be there when you do.

She turns to MULDER, her voice breaking. He turns to her.

SCULLY: But my mysteries... I'll never have answered. I won't know if he thinks of me, too, or, if he's ever been afraid and wished that I was there. Does he doubt himself because we left him? What questions does he have of me? The same that I have with this quarter? And I want to believe... I need to believe, that we didn't treat him like trash.

MULDER puts his arm around her, and she puts her head on his shoulder, sobbing.

Fade to black.