Disclaimer: We own nothing.

Howdy everyone! So this is a story written by both evgrrl09 and PolHop. We both love the X Files and Criminal Minds, so we collaborated on this story to get these fabulous characters together. Leave a review for us if you have some time :)

A note on the X Files portions: This story takes place in 2015, and what we've done is just moved Mulder, Scully, and Skinner to present day.

Outside of Devils Tower, Wyoming

Daniel Watkins fiddled with his keys, as he got ready to enter his small trailer. He had an exhausting day at work, and he was ready to prop his feet up on his coffee table and crack open a lukewarm beer. As he trudged inside, he kicked his shoes off and flipped the television on. He grabbed a beer and flopped down in his worn armchair to watch a rerun of The Dukes of Hazard. After drinking half his beer, he lit up a cigarette.

The clock ticked by to midnight, and Daniel hadn't moved from his spot since arriving home. All was quiet, save for the sound of the television. Yawning widely, he rubbed his face and stubbed his sixth cigarette out.

It would be smart for him to get to bed now. He sighed and flipped the TV off, heading off to his bedroom. As he did, he heard a creak from his front stoop. Grunting, he stumbled to his front door to see what was causing the noise. When he pulled his front door open, he peered out into the darkness. His porch light did not extend far, and he could see nothing beyond a ten-foot radius. The blurred vision from his inebriation did him no favors.

Faint footsteps caught his attention, but that couldn't be right. Nobody would be around this late at night. Then he heard it again, followed by a bang. At first he believed he might have been wrong and just hearing things. But then a pattering of footsteps could be heard, followed by a bang. It sounded as if the assailant had struck his car.

Frowning, he called out, "Who the hell's out there?"

He received no reply, save for the shuffling of more footsteps.

"I've – I've got a gun!" he threatened, stepping off his front stoop and onto the bone-dry earth. He took a few tentative steps away from his trailer. The hairs on the back of his neck rose when silence fell.

Suddenly, he felt the burning desire to run and barricade himself inside his home. Backing up, he swiftly turned and bolted for the door. Before he could reach it though, it slammed shut. He had no earthly idea how it had. There was no wind, no breeze whatsoever. His eyes went wide, and he shot forward to attempt to try to yank the door open.

Something kept it closed. No matter how hard he tried, it wouldn't budge. "What the hell!" he cried.

Behind him, a groaning sounded. He turned around and pressed his back to the side of the trailer. His head shot side to side in fright. The groaning became deafening, and Daniel cried out in terror. When he realized it was his car being lifted into the air by an unseen force, he stood, frozen in place. The car spun around in the air, going in vicious circles.

"Sweet Jesus," he said, shaking uncontrollably.

He had no opportunity to run as the car shot through the air toward him. The instant it hit his body, it smashed him into the wall of his trailer in a mess of blood and bone.


Quantico, Virginia

"What have we caught, Baby Girl?" Derek asked as he took a sip of his coffee. The round table room had filled with the team, and Penelope was readying the screens to present the case.

Penelope grimaced. "Nothing good, my love," she said. "All of us are headed to an area just outside Devil's Tower in Wyoming."

"Well that explains why you're coming with us, Garcia," Rossi remarked, looking at his tablet. "This place will practically be a dead zone."

Derek was pleased his best friend would be coming on this case with them. He was itching to get to spend time with her, and even a case would allow him to see her more. He smiled internally, knowing if he did outwardly it would seem out of place with the case.

Nodding, Penelope turned on the stream of photos. "We'll have some troubles with signals out there, but I'll do my best," she said. "Now, the victims names are Lexi Hanson and Daniel Watkins." She produced the crime scene photos of the dead bodies. Wincing, she lowered her eyes to avoid looking at them.

Even Derek had a hard time stomaching these photos. The bodies were not covered in stab wounds or sprinkled with bullet holes. No, they were smashed. Blood splatters surrounded both the bodies, and splinters of bone littered the ground. The male victim's body looked as if something had struck him in the middle of his body. His chest had burst open where his ribs were poking through his skin. Organs were visible.

The female victim was unrecognizable; her head had been smashed in to the point she was not identifiable.

"The amount of overkill on these victims indicates severe rage," Derek began, breaking the shocked silence in the room. He had no idea what kind of monster would do this to a person, but he needed to push those feelings aside and tried to remain objective.

"To say the least," Penelope commented, keeping her face down and shielding her eyes from the screen. She gulped. "Can – can I switch the photos? Please!"

Derek gave her a sympathetic glance. He was glad when Hotch nodded, and she changed to a map of Northern Wyoming. Penelope breathed a sigh of relief, and sat down in her seat, folding her hands in front of her. "Alright, now that those are out of the way, let's talk deets. I've been in contact with the sheriff at the police department, and they're eagerly expecting our arrival. They've never seen a series of murders, much less a serial killer. And it's a good thing I'm coming with you because they are back in the stone ages in terms of operating systems."

Hotch started to rise from his seat. "We need to get there as soon as possible before we have another crushed body on our hands," he said. "Wheels up in thirty."


Washington D.C.

"Mulder, what exactly was so important you rushed me here on a Saturday?" Scully asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "And…what exactly are you doing?"

Mulder glanced down from flicking pencils up in the air toward the ceiling. Since he received a call from Wyoming, he had gone to work searching through the files for any signs of what could have done this to two grown, healthy people. As soon as he realized he had nothing that fit this description, he sent Scully a text for her to get to the office as soon as possible.

Rising from his seat, he abandoned his pencils and pulled up images on his computer to show to his partner. "C'mon Scully, don't tell me you had plans this weekend," he teased. Her usual eye roll he saw with much regularity made him smile. In all the insane cases they followed, at least he could count on her to be her usual skeptical self.

Even when he tried desperately to get her to believe in the very real dangers in the world, somehow her skepticism was something constant and reliable in his life.

"Go ahead," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. She made no answer on whether or not she had plans.

Clicking through a series of files, he pulled up the grisly images of two destroyed bodies. Scully's eyebrows raised, but otherwise she made no reaction.

"These two victims, Daniel Watkins and Lexi Hanson were found dead in a small town outside of Devils Tower, Wyoming," Mulder started to explain. "Lexi Hanson's face was crushed in, while Daniel Watkins was nearly cut in half by something striking his midsection."

"And how did you come across this case?" Scully asked.

"Glad you asked," Mulder said, raising his finger to grab a scrap of paper he had scribbled the name down on. "I got a call from a guy named Hank West, who runs a local general store. Apparently Mr. West reads the online edition of The Lone Gunmen, and when he saw what was going on in his town, he got ahold of Byers who directed him to us."

Scully shook her head. "I'm not following," she said. "Is this Mr. West claiming this is some kind of alien activity?"

"He apparently thinks aliens are responsible, but I'm not convinced that's what it is, and neither is Byers," he replied, leaning against his desk.

"I'm failing to see where the X File is in this," Scully said. "It would take a particularly violent killer to do something like this, but it's not out of the realm of possibility this could be done by a man. There's no need for us to go all the way out there to the middle of nowhere."

Raising his finger, Mulder nodded. "Ah, but there is one detail I haven't mentioned yet," he said. "Mr. Watkins' car was found flipped over near his body…with his blood and bone fragments splattered on the front bumper."

Scully arched a brow. "What are you suggesting this is? Someone with super strength throwing heavy objects at people?" she asked with doubt.

Mulder shrugged. "Not sure yet," he said. "But I've booked us two plane tickets out there. Our plane leaves in two hours."

Blowing out a sigh, Scully turned for the door. "I'll clear my schedule," she remarked dryly.