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Title: Shifts Author's Notes: In this story, Scully's POV is told going backwards from the first scene and Mulder's is told going forward. This was always supposed to be the set up for Christopher Scully II, but we'll see what happens next.
Jasper, Alberta, Canada The wind is howling around us even though we're closed up in this structure. There's nothing that can silence the sad moan as it creeps under the door and the dirty windowpanes. I close my eyes and the low, hollow sound takes me back to a sunny day when I was young. Back to a family vacation near the beach. It sounds like the wind blowing through the masts on the sailboats moored behind the bungalow we were staying in. There will be no more vacations. No more sailboats. Right now, I'm not even so sure there will be any sunny days again. Samara shifts around in my arms and brings me back to here and now. Wherever that might be. "Is this the place?" I ask, my throat raw from sucking in cold air for so long. I set Samara down next to Kessie and Chris on a threadbare quilt covering what must be the bed. It's the only bed here. I have no idea where we are going to all sleep. My arms are numb from carrying Samara or Chris all this way and I'm tired. I'm also numb from the constant cold. It's been days since I've been warm. "This is it. The center of our universe from now on," Mulder replies with a scoff as he opens the door to the wood burning stove. There's a pile of wood near the wall and he grabs some and puts it in before searching for something to light it with. We need to warm this place up but the wind is so strong, I'm not sure that's going to be possible. "This is where you came last year? Where Krycek ..." "This would be it. I just never thought it would be home. Just never thought I'd be hiding out here ..." he mumbles but stops when the match he's holding sparks to life. He carefully stokes the fire he starts, making sure it's going before moving away from the stove. "I thought I could stop it." The three children look like they are in shock. Kessie can barely keep her eyes open and her cheeks are so chapped now that she cries out when Christopher touches her face. "Mommy, when are we going home?" Chris asks. His throat sounds parched and he stares at me with glassy, sad eyes. They're all staring at me, waiting for an answer. I don't get a chance to give them one. Their father does it instead. "We aren't. We aren't going home but at least we still have each other. That's all that matters now." Jasper, Alberta, Canada There is nothing before me but an old farmhouse-like structure standing in the middle of a grassy field. The tall summer grass is dotted with wildflowers and they sway in the blowing wind. Mountains rise up as a backdrop to it all and I imagine during the winter the temperatures are damn near unbearable here, especially since the peaks on those mountains are still covered in white snow. It's taken me two days just to make it this far and I check my GPS one more time to make sure this is the right structure. Not that there's any other building within a hundred miles of here. Nothing but mountains and lakes and fields. I've passed an occasional hiker on these back country trails. We would discuss the weather and where in the hell we were going and then move on. I'm still not certain where I'm going. Or why. This is the location that was given to me and that looks like the building in all those satellite pictures the Gunmen procured. Still, I have no idea what this location is supposed to mean. I hope someone left bigger clues inside than they did outside. I shift my backpack around and trudge forward through the thick grass, my feet aching in my hiking boots. If nothing else, the old barn will give me a place to rest for a day before heading back and adding this to my long list of unsolved mysteries. I did solve one mystery late last night. My cell phone doesn't work way out here. Walking around the perimeter of the building, I run my hand around the dilapidated wood. This place is beyond a can of paint and new gutters. The windows that remain are covered in years of dust and grime. I brush my hand across a pane of glass and try to see in but can only see shadows and a trace of light. Rickety steps lead up to a worn front door and I open it, letting it swing in on its hinges. I step across the threshold and onto the dusty floor and that's when I notice a fresh set of footprints leading across the room. "Shut the door, Mulder. You don't want to let any wildlife in," Krycek says. He's sitting on a chair against the far wall looking as if he has nothing better to do with his life but wait for me. His skin is pale and he coughs after he finishes speaking. "What could be worse than you?" I ask, closing the door behind me. I just stand there, facing him. He only moves his right hand, moving his fingers over the surface of a denim clad thigh. His left arm hangs stiffly at his side, unmoving. "You'd be surprised at what's out there, Mulder. So close to us right now," Krycek says, his voice raspy and uneven. He coughs some more, not bothering to put his hand over his mouth. I take a step back from him and he laughs. "What in the hell happened to you?" I ask. He continues to stare at me, his eyelids heavy. "This is the price we sometimes have to pay in the business I'm in. Play too many sides for too long and it sometimes ..." he stops and coughs more, this time raising his right hand to form a fist in front of his mouth. "Sometimes one of the sides catches up to you and makes you pay." I listen to him cough more. I can't even begin to imagine how many people have wanted to bring Alex Krycek down. I'm sure it's more than just me. "What's this about, Krycek? I'm sure you didn't drag me all the way up here expecting my pity. What is this place?" I ask, looking around. There's hardly any furnishings here. A bed is shoved in the corner, covered by a worn quilt. Krycek is sitting on the only chair and there's a dilapidated table barely standing on its four legs. A wood burning stove stands cold but I see the remnants of a meal on it. "This place? This place is your future, Mulder. Doesn't look too bright, does it?" Krycek asks with a soft snort. I take one step back toward the door, wary of what he's up to. "Don't worry. Your future doesn't start now. But soon, this will be the center of your universe." Somewhere in Canada "How long will you be able to carry her?" "Forever." I answer his question again, tugging Samara close to my exhausted body. She complains but there's nothing else I can do but hold her tight and keep walking. Mulder hitches Christopher higher onto his hip and rearranges the blankets over his head. The wind tries to pull it off but he tucks it around him tighter, holding on to the tattered edges. "Kessie, keep up," he calls out over his shoulder. I look behind us and Kessie nods as she trudges through the snow. She is as exhausted as we are and there is no one here to carry her. "How much farther?" she asks, her throat sounding parched. I stop and wait for her to catch up, pressing my chapped lips to her forehead when she stops in front of me. She still has the fever she's been running for the last day and her cheeks are flushed from more than just the cold. We both look at Mulder and he closes his eyes. It's falling apart quickly around us and I have no idea how to pull all the pieces together. "Not much longer." Kessie simply nods her head this time instead of letting out a string of protest like the last time Mulder said 'not much longer.' That was yesterday. No one asks how long we've been walking but rather, we all have kept our own silent count of the days and nights. Night is quickly descending upon us again and I can tell from the look on Mulder's face that we aren't going to be to our destination before it completely wraps us in darkness. Sunlight can barely filter through during the day and the stars are obliterated at night. We'll have to stop soon. "We have to keep moving," he says, countering my thoughts. He avoids eye contact with any of us, as if he failed us all by letting this happen. Samara squirms against me, trying to pull away. "Momma, I'm hungry," she says softly and I try to quiet her. "Keep moving," Mulder says, walking ahead of us. Kessie stands still, her glassy eyes not hiding how tired she is. She's not even supposed to be alive and now this might kill her anyway. "We have to go. We can't stand here. They'll find us." "I know," I say, shifting Samara to my hip and taking Kessie's gloved hand in mine. "Kessie, we have to keep moving." She looks at me and then looks to her father. "I'm so tired." "I know," I say as we both start to trudge forward through the snow. Jasper, Alberta, Canada "What are you talking about?" I ask Krycek. He stands and walks over to a dusty window, wiping it with the sleeve of his shirt. A mountain comes into focus the more he wipes and his eyes focus off into the distance. "Did you really think you'd be able to save the world, Mulder? Did you really think you would put it all together in time to stop it? That isn't going to happen," Krycek says, still looking out window. He shuts his eyes and coughs some more. "So, what is going to happen?" I ask. I take the chair he just left and turn it around, using it myself. He turns from the window and stares at me, his eyes narrowing as he thinks about what to say next. "One day, they'll just sweep through the streets. It will go faster than anybody ever expected. Those chosen to live will be sent to the appropriate place. Those not chosen ... won't be so lucky," Krycek says with half a laugh. "Actually, maybe they will be. It's a matter of opinion, I guess." "And the appropriate place would be ..." "It might as well be hell. They had alternatives started. Places with schools for your children. A safe place for your family. You saw what they were working on with that kid of yours. A virtual Noah's Ark of humanity," he says. He puffs air into his right hand. It's beginning to get cool here now that the sun is setting. It's a hell of a lot cooler than it is in DC right now. "So, you're saying those plans have failed?" I ask. He leans against what's left of the windowsill and laughs again. "Fell apart so damn fast no one knew what hit them. Just because you took that kid out. Someone panicked and ended the project. All those kids you saw there ... gone. Just think of all the parents who gave up their children to that project because they thought they would be safe that way. People just like Diana Fowley," Krycek says and now I shut my eyes. No one was ever able to find any trace of such a settlement ever again after I got out with Kessie. Two governments searched and found nothing. Damn it. Damn them. "So, now what?" I ask. "The unfortunate people chosen to live will be sent to camps, to work for them until they die. The lucky ones will die," he says with a soft snort. "The problem with you, Mulder, and with most of your children, is they are selected to live." "That's a problem?" "That is a problem simply because it's not going to be much of a life. But someone doesn't want you to live that life. Doesn't want that life for those two children you have with Scully ..." "What about Kessie?" I ask, looking at him. He just shrugs his shoulders. "Wrong genes. Don't worry. If this fails, she's one of the lucky ones who'll end up dead. Anyway, like I was saying, one night ... or day... who the fuck knows, they'll come and gather you all up ... you can't let them." Somewhere in Canada "Where are we?" I ask and Mulder just shakes his head. He opens our map with one hand as he struggles to hold Christopher against him. The map doesn't seem to be doing much good. We seem to be lost more often than not. The wind blows through what's left of the pine trees surrounding this area and I stare up at them, and then past them to the pale sky. The sun has been nothing but a softly diffused light for days now, always lost behind dust or clouds or whatever that haze is. I imagine it will only get worse as we move farther north. I finally take my eyes off of the sky and look into the abandoned building we're standing by. I think this was a general store, set back in away from the highway. Now, it's nothing but a gutted out building that has been picked clean. "Looks like it's the end of the road to me," he says, nodding at the barriers that would block any cars or trucks from going further north on this road. That is if there were any cars or trucks. We've been on foot for a while now and I haven't seen one. Samara squirms against my hip but I can't put her down here. Shards of glass litter the asphalt in front of the shell of the building and I can still smell some sort of fuel. The odor permeates the area and I struggle not to cough. "Kessie, come here," Mulder calls out and he hands Christopher over to her as he begins to investigate the area more. He makes it around the building and begins to pick up some of the charred debris. I follow him watching as he turns over more rubble, but I'm not sure what he expects to find. This place looks like it was picked clean well before we got here. He turns over one last sheet of blackened plywood and makes a face. I know that face and I know what he's found isn't good. I approach but he quickly motions for me to stop. "Don't bring her any closer." "What is it?" I ask. He walks towards me, taking Samara from my arms so I can take a look. The bodies are burned beyond recognition but I can tell it was a family of five. This was probably their store and their home. Having the number of children they did probably ended up costing these people their lives. If they had any vehicles, they were taken for there's nothing around here anymore. No food, water or transportation. Just a hollowed out shell of what life used to be like. "I didn't think it would start so soon. You said ..." I start to say and he interrupts me. "We can't do anything for them now. We better get going before it begins to snow," Mulder says, looking up at the heavy sky. So far, we have been lucky. All we've had to deal with is older, mostly melted snow. Add a fresh layer to the landscape and we may never find where we're going. "Okay," I say, covering up the bodies and leaving them behind. Samara stays wrapped up in Mulder's arms as I take Chris from Kessie. As silently as we came upon this place, we leave again. Jasper, Alberta, Canada "Why are they doing it?" "Your children, Mulder, are the key to it all. They always have been. Not the oldest girl. That was a mistake and Diana paid for that one. She thought she could beat the system but she couldn't," Krycek says with a slow shake of his head. "But the other ones? The ones I had with Scully?" "You really do believe that, don't you? That you two actually conceived those kids with no outside intervention? You really do believe in anything." "I don't care where they came from anymore, Alex," I say, meaning every word of it. "You should. If you knew, you'd have all your answers." "I've come to realize, over time, that maybe there are no answers," I say and he looks stunned. "Is there no truth either?" he asks and I look away. "Just what people like you make up," I say, moving to window and staring out at the empty landscape. "I couldn't possibly make up a story this good. No one could. Sometimes, truth is better than fiction," he says, his voice growing more raspy with every word. "So, what's their purpose?" I ask and he just turns to me and smiles. Near the Canadian Border The rattling of the truck is louder than any of us can talk. Or think. The sound bangs around the inside of my head and almost makes me forget what's happening to our lives. I open my eyes to find Samara staring at me, her hands over her ears, her eyes filled with fear. "It will be okay," I say, knowing she can't hear the words. She just nods and cuddles in tighter against her father. Kessie has Chris on her lap, wrapped up in blankets. It's so cold but we have no other means of transportation. We have to hope this works. That we can get over the border without detection. Mulder moves closer to me, and Samara climbs onto my lap, clinging tightly to my jacket. She buries her head against the fabric, trying to stop the noise that we can't escape. Mulder has to shout for me to hear him, but I can make out the words. "I'm sorry," he says, putting his hand on mine. I shake my head, knowing that apologies won't change anything now. This is the life I asked for. The life I chose when I stepped into the basement office so many years ago. Now it's just him and our children and a destination I know nothing of. "I'm so sorry," he says again, resting his head on my shoulder. His hand strokes the hair that is escaping out of under Samara's woolen stocking cap. "We're alive, aren't we?" I try to keep my voice to a level that only he can hear but Kessie turns her head in my direction. "We're still alive. We're still a family. What else is there?" With that, the two of us fall silent, listening only to the tumult around us. Jasper, Alberta, Canada "They're the end product of a project years in the making. Something that goes back as far as Roswell. Actually, with your family, maybe a little further back. That's how they were chosen, their pedigree. The studies that had been performed on them earlier," he says and I have no clue what he's talking about. "Why us?" I ask and he shakes his head. "I have no clue. Luck of the draw, Mulder. You and Scully are the final pieces in this experiment. Sure, there are others, but not like the two of you. You made it easy for them," he says, not really telling me anything. "I've heard enough," I say, turning to leave. He steps away from the window as if to stop me, but he knows he can't. Instead, he laughs. "You want the truth? You want to know what they've been genetically designed for?" he asks and I turn towards him. "Not really. I don't need anymore of your stories or your lies," I say, going to pick up my pack. I just need to get out of here. Get home to Scully. I don't need to listen to him. "You want to know what 'Weather Control' really is?" he asks and as tempted as I am to stop, I keep walking. "It's the final solution. The answer no one wants to face. You and your children have been designed to survive it. Especially your children." "Survive what?" I ask, scoffing at him. "All these years, I've heard about this invasion that never happens. Rebel aliens and gray aliens and you know what? I don't think they even need a final solution because there's no problem to solve." "Nuclear winter." I look at him, struggling for breath there by the window, barely able to hold himself up. Now it's my turn to laugh. "You think I'm kidding?" "Yes, Krycek. Most everything that has come out of your mouth for years is a joke. So they're going to blow us all up? For what purpose?" "To stop them. They need it warm. We block out the sun and it all goes to hell. They can survive the radiation, believe it or not. They thrive on it. But the winter that will follow? It will kill them," he says and I stop moving. I remember something, from a long time ago. Something that happened in a nuclear plant. "And my children? How do they fit in this?" I ask and he smiles. "Pull up a chair and find out." Somewhere in Idaho "What happens if someone finds us?" I ask and Mulder doesn't answer. He doesn't need to. "Why are they doing this?" "Because they want them. They want the kids and they can't have them." The children are all asleep, resting as close to each other as they can get. We are at some rest stop somewhere. I don't know where. The only light we have is from a small lantern that we shouldn't even be burning but it was the only way I could get Christopher to think about sleeping. "If they made them, why would they want them? There's no reason ..." "I don't think they believe they actually achieved it, or rather that it occurred naturally. They want to know how so they can do it again. Now they want to study them more closely. They say they don't want Kessie but I don't believe them. They want to know why she's not the same. That would be too good of an opportunity for them to pass up." "We can't run forever," I say, wrapping up in a blanket. It's so cold here and I have no idea how much further we have to go. Mulder says this will get us over the border and into Alberta but then we'll be on our own. People are already looking for us. It's that important. "We have to. We can't stop. Can't quit now." "How do we know we'll be safe when we get there?" I ask and he doesn't have a good answer. "Because the same people who are chasing us said we would be?" "No." "Maybe it's a trap. Dammit, Mulder. Alex Krycek is the one who gave you the directions for this journey," I say and I need not say more. He knows what I'm implying. He tenses up against the wall of the truck trailer we've been hiding in for a day now. I reach for the lamp, turning it off and leaving us in complete darkness. "I have to believe in something," he says and I want to laugh. He always believes in too much. That's his problem. "But does that have to be Alex Krycek? And why now? Why are we doing this now?" "Because we were running out of time. You think they're looking for us for no reason?" he ask and I close my eyes, wishing to be anywhere but here. To be having any conversation but this one. "Do you think those checkpoints are a joke?" "No," I say, shuddering at the memory of the last one and of trying to keep Samara quiet inside of a crate while they searched the truck. "We'll be safe once we get there." "I hope so," I say, my body desperately needing sleep. Mulder stand up and quietly makes his way towards me before sitting down beside me. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, his body warm and comfortable. Finally, I fall into a restless slumber. Jasper, Alberta, Canada "Years of testing, mostly on government employees. Your father, for example and on those in the military. Scully's family was perfect. A perfect match for yours," Krycek says and I lean back in my chair, waiting for him to go on. He seems to be waiting for me to say something. "And why am I supposed to believe you?" "For chrissakes, Mulder. Who in the hell else are you going to believe at this point? Anyway, they've been waiting for years to finally get these matches to work up right. You and Scully ended up being their test subjects. Of course, because of that, the aliens were just as interested in you as was the government. A natural reaction to what was going on," he says as if that explains everything. "Right." "If they could dissect you, they could figure out what the plan was," he says. "If you know it, it couldn't have been that big of a secret," I say and he shrugs a shoulder and coughs some more. "You'd be surprised," he says as he gets up to pour himself a cup of water. "You'd be surprised." Continued in Part 2 Somewhere in Idaho "He's the man," Mulder says, nodding his head in the direction of a surly looking truck driver. "He's our transportation." "How do we know?" I ask, handing Samara something to eat. She picks at her piece of toast and Chris doesn't eat at all. They are both so confused, as is Kessie. At least she's old enough to understand that we aren't going home anytime soon, if ever. "Because of this," Mulder says, folding up the piece of paper that has been our guide in all of this and tucking it into his pocket. He slides out of his side of the booth and approaches the man. Neither of them say a word inside of the diner, but leave out the front door. Mulder turns to look at me before it closes, leaving me alone with the kids. "Who's that?" Kessie asks, looking out the window. "I don't know," I say and she looks down at her food, picking at it just like Samara. "Is all of this because of me?" she asks, her voice filled with apprehension. "No, Kessie, this isn't happening because of you. None of you are to blame for this," I say and all the kids look at me, their eyes sad. "Because of Dad?" she asks quietly. "What is happening isn't his fault or mine. This is something that has been going on for longer than any of you've been alive. This is something ... I just can't even explain," I say, looking down into my cup of hot tea. How can I explain something I don't understand to them? Samara is still just a baby and Christopher is just as confused. He says nothing, but lately, he never has a lot to say. That bundle of infant energy has grown into a thoughtful and reserved toddler. I don't know what sparked the change but it happened over the last year. "You need to eat something. All of you," I say, sliding a glass of milk towards Christopher. He picks it up and takes a sip, never saying a word. "I don't know when we'll be able to stop to eat again." I look out the window to see Mulder and that man he was talking with coming back towards the door. He looks nervous until he notices that I see him. Then he tries to give me a smile but it falls flat. There is nothing to smile about right now. Nothing at all. Jasper, Alberta, Canada "So, what's all this for?" I ask, motioning to the cabin around me. "Your escape. They're going to come looking for all of you. Millions will be killed just to get rid of your type." "But you said ..." "That's our government. Not them. They're going to get the jump on them. Our government thinks you can be used as bargaining chips -- slave labor in trade for their survival. They don't want that. Don't want you alive. If they kill all of you, then there will be no humanity to survive whatever it is they have planned. Not that I'd call it surviving," he says and I get up out of my chair and pace around. I don't know what to believe. I can't imagine why I should trust him. "So, it's a race?" "Always has been," he says. "And for some reason, someone wants you to win." Somewhere in Idaho "Did anyone see you?" Mulder asks, looking over his shoulder as we walk out of the bus station. Kessie is behind us, trying to pull Samara along but she keeps fighting her. I finally scoop her up into my arms so we can move faster. "Not that I noticed," I say, trying to keep up with him. We've been apart for three days now, going separate ways to meet up here. "It isn't exactly easy to travel quietly with a toddler, you know." He scoots Christopher up further on his shoulder and nods. "I know," he says. He's been alone with Chris for all this time while I've had the girls. At least I've had Kessie to help. "Where are we going now?" I ask and he points to a tiny diner down the street. "Where are we now?" "Nowhere. There's nothing here. We're sitting ducks if someone comes through here looking for us. They have to know our path by now. Roads have been blocked. They're looking for a family with three kids. They looked right at me and moved on," he says, looking over his shoulder once more. "Maybe we shouldn't have met up so soon," I say, not wanting to look at what's behind us. "We had no choice. This is where we meet up with the person who's going to get us into Canada. It's all been arranged," he says and I just nod. I only wish I could trust the arrangements as much as he does. Jasper, Alberta, Canada "So were going to come here to escape? Why won't they just come get us here?" I ask and Krycek considers it. "They might but sooner or later, this will be the center of the world. Hard to believe, huh?" he says, dragging a toe through the dusty floor. "You're kids are destined for greatness, I tell you. Maybe that boy will be the leader of all of humanity someday." "How many people will that be? Fifty? Sixty?" I ask and he laughs. "Just the unlucky ones. I'm telling you, it's not going to be a life worth living. I guess if I had kids, I'd feel differently." "Yes, you would," I say, stopping at the window to consider everything he's said. "How will we know when to leave? Is someone going to drop by the front door and tell us to pack?" "The date is set, Mulder." "And you know the date?" I ask incredulously. I'm starting to believe him less and less. He knows too much. I have no idea how or why. "Of course I do. That's why you're here." "You couldn't have just dropped by the office and told me? Did you forget your way down there?" I ask and he laughs. "Then how would you find your way back here?" he asks. "I don't know if I should find my way back here," I answer and he shrugs again. "Then don't. Let them kill you. All of you. I don't care," he says. "You must." "Not me, Mulder. Someone else cares, but it's not me," he says with a smile. Somewhere in Montana "I miss Daddy," Samara says. "I know. So do I," I say, repositioning her on my lap. We're in some tiny bus station somewhere, waiting for a connection. I fight the urge to look over my shoulder, afraid of what could be behind us. "I have to go to the bathroom," Kessie says, standing from the seat beside me. "You can't go alone," I say, motioning for her to sit back down. That's just what I need. Her to go into the restroom and not come back out. "I have to go." "Can you wait just a minute?" I ask, trying to get up with Samara and collect our few bags at the same time. "No," she says, rolling her eyes at me. God, she looks just like her mother when she acts like this. "You'll have to," I say and she starts dancing from one foot to another. I collect the last bag and sigh. There's no way we can get anywhere without attracting attention. "Okay. Let's go." Jasper, Alberta, Canada "So, what's going to happen? Is someone going to knock on our door and tell us to get moving?" I ask. It's growing cool in here even though it's the middle of summer. Or maybe it's just the company. "Close," he says. "You'll know when it's time. And you're going to have to move fast or else they'll find you. This place will be safe, though. We'll make sure of that. Or someone will." I don't know what else to ask. I have a million questions, but I need to think about this for a few minutes. "Tell me one thing," I ask after we both stand in silence. "Maybe," he says, leaning up against the window sill. "The children ... Christopher and Samara ..." "They're yours," he says with a smirk. "I know that," I say, shaking my head. That wasn't what I was going to ask. "You want to know how? You've always wondered how, haven't you?" he asks and I nod. "They were in control of her fertility the whole time. They were just waiting on you, sport." "And what if we never ..." "Like that was going to happen. It was only a matter of time," he says, sounding more confident than I ever did. I can't help but laugh. "So they didn't control that storm? The hurricane?" I ask and he doesn't answer. "They didn't, did they?" "I can't tell you everything, Mulder." Scully-Mulder Household "Get on this bus. When you get here, get off of the bus and wait for me. I'll be there. I promise," Mulder says, showing me a piece of paper that looks old and worn. He must have studied it a million times over the last year. Maybe he was deciding whether we should do this or not. I'm not sure he's convinced even now. "What if they find us?" I ask and he closes his eyes. "Mulder? What if they find us?" "Get away. Get there by some other method. But be here by the 8th," he says, opening his eyes to look at me again. He looks tired. Or worried. No one can be more worried than I am. "And Christopher?" I ask, my voice rising as I say his name. "What if something happens to you?" "We'll be fine, Scully. I won't let anything happen to him. You know that," he says, pulling me into his embrace. The children are in the other room, barely able to make out what's going to happen to their lives. All they know is we have to leave here in the next hour and we don't know when we'll be back. "I need to call ..." "You can't," he says before I can even finish my sentence. "She can't know. No one can." "Mulder ..." "You can't." "I hate this," I say, tears coming to my eyes. I can't cry again, not with the kids worried about what's going on. "So do I," he says, kissing my forehead. "But I'd hate for anything to happen to any of them even more." Jasper, Alberta, Canada "I can't tell you more," he says, sounding as if he's dismissing me. "Why not?" I ask. Maybe he doesn't know anymore than this. Maybe this is the end of his story, some fabrication of his for an unknown purpose. "I can't. All I can do is give you this," he says, pulling a sheet of paper out of his pocket. He hands it to me and I go to unfold it. "What is it?" "Don't do that yet. You aren't ready for that right now," he says and I stop unfolding it and shove it in my pocket. "Go home. Go home and wait." "For how long?" "It won't be long," he says and I nod. "And don't spend your whole time trying to stop it or figure it out." He knows I'm not going to listen to that bit of advice. I pick up my pack and turn towards the door. I don't want to stay here tonight. Not with him. I just need to get out of here and clear my head. "Mulder ..." he calls after me and I turn to look at him one last time. "You can't tell anyone." "Whatever." "Everything will be okay, you know," he says, sounding so damn confident. "Right," I say as I leave the cabin, slamming the door behind me. Scully-Mulder Household "You must be kidding!" I say, my voice angry and excited. Kessie sits as still as possible, Christopher tucked safely in her arms. Samara isn't sure what's going on. She continues to sit on the floor, playing with her toys. "Two hours, Scully. We have to be out of here in two hours." "I can't. We can't. This is our home. Mine and yours and theirs." "It won't be a home if we don't do this," he says, grabbing hold of one of my hands. I pull away from his touch. "You waited all this time to tell me about this. You could have told me, Mulder. A year? You waited a year?" I ask and he gives me a sheepish look. I'm sure he had his reasons but I don't think any reason would be enough right now. "I wasn't sure. Not until this morning. Not until this came across my desk," he says, handing me a fax. There's only two words on it, in bold type. 'Moving day' is all it says. He's been waiting for this for a year now, remaining silent. "And this is enough to make me leave my home?" "No, saving them is enough," he says, nodding at our family. I know he's right. "Saving you is enough for me." "Is this what you've been working on over the last year?" I ask and he nods. Something has been bothering him, keeping him away for days on end. Now I know. "You were trying to stop this?" "I couldn't, Scully. I tried for you, for them. I can't stop the future," he says, his voice cracking at the admission of his failure. "Then I guess this is what we have to do," I say, still not happy with it. I don't know who to trust. I can only trust him and he believes in this. "I will follow you anywhere, Mulder." "I know," he says. Tears come to my eyes, mourning the loss of everything already. I fight them, not ready to let go. A few spill over and he wipes them dry. "Anywhere," I repeat again and I mean it with all my heart. Jasper, Alberta, Canada I turn around to look at the house in the distance. My legs wobble a little when I think about it all. I wanted answers. Now I'm not so sure anymore. We were happy without the answers. I'm sure of at least that much. How can we ever be happy here? Maybe together, we can be happy anywhere. If the children are safe and we're safe, we can survive. I shake my head, wondering how far that theory can be stretched. How I'm supposed to convince Scully of this. I'm still not sure I believe any of it. Why should I? It all sounds preposterous. I have so many questions and concerns and nowhere to go with them. I don't know how we'll live out here. How will we survive? We can't survive this. We just can't. How are we supposed to walk away from our lives? I start to walk away again. This can't happen. I have to stop it. After all these years, I should know better. I'll never be able to stop it. I couldn't stop it so far. I want to kick myself for giving up before I even tried. I'm going to have to at least try. The end
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