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Title: Messenger Summary: This tale is an angst-o-rama. Following the return and recovery of Dana Scully, unseen forces have caused traumatic consequences for her and her partner. I would not classify it as a romance, nor a true X-File (though the pair become an X-File unto themselves!) Author's Note: I have seen countless references to Dana Scully's abduction period as 3 months. For the purposes of this tale, I have followed the airing dates of the episodes 'Duane Barry', 'Ascension', '3' and 'One Breath'. In 'Messenger', Scully's abduction was Oct. 14 - she was missing for 1 month - she would've been returned mid-November. I am a true proponent of proper spelling and I would appreciate being told of any typos. There's even a reward! I'll e-mail a twonie to anyone who can spot a typo! A twonie is an Canadian coin - never mind. Speaking of culture, this piece employs Canadian English spelling - so don't be too swift to claim the reward! :-) I have attempted to portray the characters as true to their roles as possible: caring but not demonstrative, witty and often argumentative. The key word is 'dignity'. Why spoil a good thing? Dedication: Heartfelt thanks goes to my pal/editor Vasaris - the Fuzzy Dragon (a.k.a. Jill). She contributed so many ideas and words to this tale. If you haven't yet read her brilliant work "Seasons", do not delay! Prologue: The Awakening date: November 17 Dana Scully had, quite simply, returned from the dead. He watched her sleeping through ragged eyes laden with sorrow and regret. All was still in this dry antiseptic room. Earlier, the night nurse had stopped in to check the IV drip and heart monitor. She jotted a note on the chart and snapped on the small fluorescent light over her patient's bed. Turning to face the visitor, she made an obvious gesture of glancing at her watch. There was no use in trying to enforce hospital rules on this one. He wasn't about to leave, nor would he cause any trouble as long as he was allowed to stay. They exchanged nods and she retreated, switching off the overhead bulb. The room was cast into a dreary half-light. Finally, they were together, alone. Fox Mulder remained in the shadows, sitting in the hard chair by the window. He marveled at the bitter kindness of Fate. Dr. Logan and her team had been grim in their prognosis and were astounded when Dana roused from the coma after only three days. Not so, her companions. Margaret Scully had never stopped praying, Melissa had practiced energy manipulation therapy when the doctors weren't looking. And me? he wondered. "I had the strength of your beliefs," she had told him. The tiny gold cross rose and fell with her breathing, a pulsing icon caught in the light. She was no longer as pale as the hospital sheets and the luster was returning to her hair. His thoughts wandered back over the past few days... She had undergone a battery of tests and was visited by the hospital psychologist. That session had been especially strenuous. "Dana has been trying to recall images," Dr. Fielding confided. "They're just not there. She's not ready for regression hypnosis therapy at this time." The doctors saw to it that she slept through the night, but daytime slumber revealed her terror. Mulder kept vigil during her visions. She would be breathing calmly for the first part of the nap, then she'd begin to twitch and whimper. His body tensed, misery pooled in his eyes. It ripped his heart out to see the convulsions intensify, hear the monitor's spasmodic beeping. There was nothing he could do. Then Margaret entered the room and spied Mulder in panic's grip. She rushed to her daughter's side. "There, there baby," she cooed while stroking Dana's hair and cheek. A soft lullaby purred from Margaret's lips. Peace returned to her child's sleeping form and the machines resumed a steady rhythm. Just this afternoon, Mulder recalled, they had been in the middle of a conversation, when Scully drifted into sleep. She was somewhere safe for now, oblivious to the unknown. He was still consumed by guilt, burdened by so many questions. She needed serenity to heal. He studied the image of her closed eyes in their hollow, gray sockets. Her split lip was also healing nicely. Whatever atrocities were committed, she was back and he could scarcely believe he was seeing her again. Scully, why would anyone want to hurt you? He stared out the window into the quiet afternoon, then closed his sad, dark eyes. How long had it been since he'd slept? A sudden out-of-sequence blip from the heart monitor jolted him back. The cycle of terror held her in its grip. He darted to her bedside. What had Mrs. Scully done? He replayed the mental video tenderness, soft words, stroking hair... Okay, I can do this. He swallowed his awkwardness and reached out to touch her hair. "You're going to be fine Scully, you're safe now." She grimaced and jerked her hands to the defense posture, snagging the IV tube on the sheet. Mulder gently straightened it out and took her trembling hand in his sweaty one. "Shhh, I'm right here, nobody's going to take you away. I won't let them. I'll take care of you." He continued his tender stroking. "I missed you, Scully. I missed seeing you every morning. I missed your eyes." I can't believe I'm whispering sweet nothings to my FBI partner! As he continued his verbal massage, she settled down. He didn't know what he was saying after a time. He rationalized that his mere presence, his calm voice and a soft touch were contributing somehow to her serenity. He often practiced this on survivors in the Violent Crime Division, but seldom on Scully. She had always been the strong one. She would resent this coddling from her partner. He was always so swift to assume the burden for her losses and pain. Maybe he could play a role in alleviating her grief. I can do this. I'll do this to help her heal. He even found a traditional Hebrew chant in the recesses of his mind. It was a 'round' that he and his mother and Sam used to sing - so long ago. "Shalom chaverim / Shalom chaverim / Shalom / Shalom Le hit ra-ot / Le hit ra-ot / Shalom / Shalom" He also felt at peace as he intoned the words. He had blocked out so much of his childhood after Sam was taken. But some warm memories remained from when they were together as a family. He vaguely remembered the feeling as 'security', but he hadn't found it since. He loved his mother, he loved Samantha, but their love was taken from him. His own ability to love was buried so deep, he didn't even think about it anymore. Fox Mulder - emotional cripple. He took an inventory of what emotions he did possess. Pain, fear, passion. Passion for what? The truth? "Dana Scully, you are my truth. If I lost you the way I lost Sam, any other truth would not matter." "Le hit ra-ot / Le hit ra-ot / Shalom / Shalom" He returned to the present. Knowing she would sleep soundly through the night. He succumbed to slumber with a silent prayer that the nightmares would leave them both alone. I. Recovery Date: November 24 Giddy was not a term one would normally use to describe Dana Scully. I'm going Home, the thought bounced around in her brain and animated her spirit. The words were equated with 'control', and in her life, control was paramount. Not the power-over-others type of control, rather, the feeling of self-sufficiency and self-discipline. Hospitals were not conducive to regaining that confidence. She was not yet up to full speed, but her doctors agreed that a more relaxed environment would hasten her progress. Psychological healing was needed and home was a good place to go. Home to mother, and while that wasn't complete control, it was a step up. Armed with her medications and directives for diet and exercise, she sat on the bed and waited eagerly for her chauffeur. The door stood ajar and a friendly face peered in. "Right on time Mulder!" she smiled. "Scully, let me take you away from all this." She grumbled good-naturedly as she sat in her chariot. "I'm perfectly capable of walking out of here - " "Come on Scully, hospital policy." "Shut up and drive." Mulder couldn't see her beaming smile as he pushed the wheelchair down the hall. But he noted how the nurses and orderlies were grinning and congratulating her, so he smiled too. "I suspect they're happier to see *me* leave." Mulder owned up. He hadn't always been the most courteous of visitors. He checked her out and pulled her up beside his car. She slowly extricated herself from the chair, but not before he scrambled to assist. "I'm fine Mulder." How long had he waited to hear those words from her? His eyes danced and he smirked at their private joke. She rewarded his chivalry with a broad grin. Pulling up to her apartment building was dreamlike. How she had missed her refuge, her personal haven! It was the sense of comfort she always felt after a case took them on the road. The thought was not lost on Mulder. "Before you know it, you'll be back for good," he said with a smile. They sat silently, just looking at the building. She no longer possessed her key, but Mulder produced a newly-cut one on a key ring bearing the letter 'X'. "You don't know how hard it was finding that particular letter. I had to go to four shops before coming up with an 'X'." he moaned. "Thanks partner. I'll make sure I don't loose this one." She took it from his fingers and they lingered in touch. Dana didn't know what emotion to brace for when she opened her door. She gazed upon her familiar sitting room and swayed slightly. Mulder put his hand on her shoulder and leaned into her ear. "Welcome home, Scully." She took baby steps to her couch and sank into it. Welcome home. She quashed a tiny tear and drank in the sight. "Melissa drove out the dust bunnies and I watered your plants. You've got a ton of mail, I picked it up yesterday at the post office. The box is rented for awhile longer while you're at your mom's." He playfully counted the errands off his fingers: "I renewed your Playgirl subscription and ordered a few items for you from your Victoria's Secrets catalog - oh and good news - " he grinned, holding up an envelope, "you may already be a winner!" Scully smiled at his banter. "I'm going to need practice on my witty retorts Mulder." "I'll wait for you Scully." this spoken with only a trace of jest. He continued, "Do you want to start packing or have some coffee first? I can run out to --" "Caffeine's a no-no while I'm on these pills, but I might have some herbal tea left in the cupboard." she stirred to rise. "Let me, you just get your bearings." Mulder bustled off into the kitchen to fill the kettle. He flipped on the radio as soundtrack to the kitchen noise. Dana felt soothed at the rhythm of life, going on as usual. She offered up a silent prayer in thanks. Rising from the couch, she slowly wandered around the room. The familiar surroundings swathed her in comfort. She absent-mindedly fingered trinkets and framed family photos, tracing over one image of her and her partner, taken last summer. The photo was snapped by a fellow agent in a perfect example of 'right place, right time.' She remembered that investigation near a wooded area, and how a strong wind loosened the team's yellow boundary tape. It had floated up and over her shoulder. Frozen in time, a bemused Mulder was trying to unravel an irritated Scully. The words 'Do Not Cross' were draped across her chest like a beauty pageant's sash. A picture tells a thousand words she smiled. The view from her window was riveting for some reason, nothing out of the ordinary, just the pace of normal life, only now it wasn't passing her by. "Tea is served in the drawing room," announced Mulder in his best English butler's voice. They settled into the warming brew. "How's Skinner these days?" Scully had been told he had dropped by after her transfer out of ICU, but she had been with her physiotherapist at the time. She looked fondly at the prickly cactus he had left for her. How appropriate! It now bloomed with tiny red sincere-looking flowers. "He's fine and sends his regards. He wants you to take all the time you need before --" "I'm anxious to get back!" she almost shouted. "Um, what have you been working on since ... for ... lately?" "The usual - your basic conspiracy, cults, vampires..." he blushed at that last reference. "Oh, and a Bigfoot sighting on film!" Scully's eyebrow shot up, as she took the bait. "Turned out to be a hoax though. At the end of the footage, someone voiced over 'You ain't seen nothin' Yeti!'" They chuckled together, he had been saving that one for weeks! Scully continued to smirk, shaking her head at his laughing form. Some things never change and Mulder's humor was still as warped as ever. She lazily sipped her tea and studied her environment anew. "Thank you for helping Missy take care of my place Mulder. My plants look healthy, how are the violets on my dresser?" "Uh-oh", he confessed "I never went in - there." They both rose and headed down the hall, Mulder stopping just short of her bedroom. "Oh well," she sighed, surveying the ex-plant, "I guess I should clean this up. Can you get my hand vac in the broom closet?" Mulder scurried away like an errant school boy I'll buy her a new violet. He returned with a vacuum and garbage bag. "Sorry Scully." He felt uneasy standing in her bedroom and concentrated on helping to dispose of the very dead leaves and flowers. She felt compelled to tidy up even more and bustled about the room with a dust cloth. Mulder glanced around. It was a simple space, not too frilly. A small wooden crucifix hung over her bed among the Maxfield Parrish prints, botanical drawings and Victorian cherub figurines. Busy but tasteful. An unfinished embroidery sampler sat on the window seat. He didn't notice when she shoved a romance novel in the drawer of her nightstand. She pushed back the cotton eyelet duvet and dust ruffle from her bed and reached under, tugging out a suitcase. Mulder felt like an intruder and didn't know if he should offer his help. His inactivity was just what Scully needed. "It feels so good to be doing for myself" she noted smugly. Striding to her closet, she pulled open the doors. Casual wear was tugged from hangers and draped over her arm. "Oh dear, I bet my laundry hamper's got a life of its own!" she pulled up the lid and gasped, "it's empty." "Succubus socks consume unwary underwear - sounds like an X-File Scully!" Mulder quipped. "I guess Melissa must have dealt with it, say, do you think she'd do mine?" Scully didn't respond. She was staring mournfully at something on her dresser. Mulder followed the path of her gaze. An innocent little calendar pad read 'October 14'. Six weeks and change before today's date. Shit shit shit! Mulder cursed and gritted his teeth. He had turned over the page on her kitchen calendar, but had not known about this one. She tore a thickness of pages from the pad, "Well, I guess that's history." she uttered, unceremoniously dropping the month into the garbage bag. Mulder let his chin fall to his chest and swung his head to the side, as if in pain. He mumbled "Excuse me" and made his way to the bathroom. Quietly closing the door, he sat and stared at the tiles. Her words had come from a painful place and woke the agony he also bore. Dana Scully did not let the regret possess her for long. In fact, she was mildly annoyed at her partner, knowing he would let himself be consumed with guilt over her abduction. She, on the other hand, felt energized by this day, bringing to mind that old cliché about the first one of the rest of her life. She stood before her packing, rather pleased with herself, determined to make her convalescence a brief one. "Toiletries," she stated, wiping a strand of hair from her cheek. "Yes, you'll need those." Mulder responded from his stance at the door. "Oh, there you are, I thought you'd fallen in. Could you tie up this garbage and put the hand vac away? I'm going to hit the showers, I'm sweating like a pig." "Women don't sweat, Scully." "Okay, I'm glowing like a pig." Grabbing her robe, she patted his arm. "I won't be long, in case mom phones." Mulder dutifully finished the chores, relieved that the calendar hadn't depressed her too much. He wished he owned half the strength she did. He tidied the tea leavings, and bagged the box of herbal leaves, along with her mail. He checked the remaining living plants, snapped off the radio and pulled the drapes shut. She emerged from the steamy bathroom, shaking her still-damp hair, looking revitalized. "I feel *much* better." she beamed. Mulder returned her smile, though his was haunted. "I'm really glad for you Scully." Date: November 30 It was the perfect place to regain her strength of character. Dana was comfortably ensconced in the shelter of her mother's home. The days were chilly but the warmth of family helped her to regain some sense of 'normal'. She caught herself smiling at tales of the neighbors' antics. There were enjoyable phone calls with her brothers and her dear, if eccentric, sister even got her laughing with New Age light bulb jokes. During those first few days, she would excuse herself after a bout of happiness. Retiring to her room, Dana let the fugue wash over her. Head as thick as cotton batting, eyes swimming with confusion, I have no right to be happy. Her shrink predicted her emotions would fluctuate that way. Her reactions would be similar to the loss experienced by the death of a loved one. "The mood swings are going to overwhelm you Dana, but the recovery process is going to take time. You mustn't suppress the sadness when it hits you - just let it come. Talking about it will be very good, but it must be someone you can trust. Oh, and you won't be returning to your stressful job until January, I've made all the arrangements for your medical leave with the Bureau." That had been the thrown gauntlet. The good doctor didn't realize that work was her reality and she needed to regain that place, the sooner the better. It made the stubborn Dana Scully vow to recover in double-time. After the first week, daytime TV, books and chit chat were not enough. Mother and daughter went for a pleasant walk in the crisp November air. Their limbs were stretched, their mind's cobwebs blown away in the fresh wind. "You are getting stronger dear." Margaret was smiling, yet her eyes betrayed concern. "I'm feeling better every day" smiled Dana, linking her arm in her mother's. "I think I'd like to return to work in a week or two." This was met with a dead halt. Maternal instincts kicked in. "No Dana, I don't think that's wise. Dr. Fielding said one month or longer." "Mom, that was a recommended leave, not a mandatory one. Besides, you know that work would help me regain confidence. I need to put my back up against something. I'm good at what I do - I'm needed at the Bureau." "You'll be no good to them if your first case sends you into a depression. No, really Dana, think of the long term! If you're bored, maybe we could take a little trip. Somewhere warm for a few weeks? Just you, me and Missy. That would be a nice distraction. I'll pick up some brochures and --" "Mom, please..." she remembered her breathing exercises to calm the static in her head. "I don't want to fight. Let's go back now." The women returned to find a familiar car sitting in the driveway. Mulder tried not to jump as he saw them approach, and he quickly ended his cel-phone call. They couldn't have known he was near frantic. She's okay, they're fine. Just taking a little walk. A mind can go to drastic places in 20 minutes. He emerged from the car. "Hi ladies" - a big smile. Despite the chill, his brow was beaded with sweat, but his hazel eyes fairly sparkled. It had been six days since he brought Dana from the hospital, and he'd only phoned once - on day three. She had been napping at the time, but Margaret updated him on her progress. She looked well this day. Not great, but so much better than she had in the hospital. They exchanged polite hugs all around. "I hope this isn't too soon to be visiting. I just wanted to say hello." Dana exchanged a secret smile with her mother, both wondering what had taken him so long. Margaret shivered and laughed. "You're always welcome here Fox. Come in, we need some tea." Mulder stepped into the front hall and helped the ladies off with their jackets, then removed his own. Dana took him in with her gaze. God, I've missed him. His eyes were circled in gray belying a haggard state, and his hair looked rather rumpled. He pushed the errant fronds aside. He was attired in his Saturday clothes of denim shirt and jeans. Still, in her eyes, he looked wonderful. "You look well Scully," he stated awkwardly. Her fire gold-hair had regained its sheen and her complexion was flushed with the late autumn air. Her welcoming smile seemed so warm and genuine. God, I've missed her. He was glad he'd decided to come. They stepped into the living room. "Um - the guys wanted me to give you this" Mulder could not wipe the grin off his face as he handed a large envelope to his partner. "Oh, and these are from various colleagues - they all say hello." Dana felt somewhat timid at receiving 'get well' cards, but she was curious as to what the Lone Gunman's creativity could generate. She opened the packet and a few snickers escaped her. Then a couple of 'tsks', followed by a definite 'guffaw'. "Did you see this? ..Those guys!" Mulder gave his best 'uh oh' look and took the paper from her. It was a 'special edition' newsletter - the 'Trust No One Gazette' filled with doctored photos of Scully with Elvis, Scully with Jimmy Hoffa, Scully floating over the Bermuda Shorts Triangle. There was a recap of world events - all completely made up, but ever so funny. And a Top Ten List of Reasons why Scully Came Back. Number One caused him to squirm: "...Because Mulder refused to bathe until she returned." "It's not true you know." He appreciated the guys' efforts at making Scully laugh. A major sign of healing. "How do you know? Maybe I *did* see Elvis." Margaret was so pleased to hear laughter coming from the living room. The kettle began to sing. "How long had you been sitting in the driveway Mulder?" "Oh, 10 minutes, give or take." Just then his cell phone chirped. He turned away to respond. "No, all's well. Yeah, she's here. Thanks, just the same. Okay, I will." He took a deep breath, then turned to meet her eyes. The blue gems were puzzled. At times like these, he just felt so lost in them. A slight shiver ran over his body. "Where were you Scully?" it was barely a whisper. "We just went for a walk Mulder, no big deal." "No, I mean ..." It was driving him crazy. He had spent a month of his off-duty time searching for her. Nobody could or would help him. He tried to control his voice but his insides were roiling as he fired off the questions: "Why were you taken - did you see your abductors? Do you remember any tests? They brought you back for a reason, Scully - did they bring anybody else?" He couldn't allow it to go unavenged. Margaret tensed as she prepared the tray of cookies and squares. The voices from the living room raised into an argument. She inhaled her lips and sniffed. Please Fox, not now. It's too soon, don't make it worse. "Don't you *dare* treat me as an X-File, I won't be scrutinized in this way. I'm not going to stand for it." Scully hissed into the tension. "You have to deal with it Scully. And I have to know!" he tried not to shout. "Why? Because you want a perfect record of solved cases? I'm *not* a case and you're too personally involved. It happened, okay. I can't answer your questions, so *Just Back Off* Her hands flew to her temples and rubbed furiously. She sucked in a breath. This was not the way she wanted the visit to go. "Look Mulder, don't you think I'd tell you if I knew? I'm trying to get over this, get my life and my emotions back under control. Part of me wants to expose the whys and wherefores of my - kidnapping. But I just have to get better so I can get back to work. Please." This was not a request, rather - a demand. Mulder's eyes were still on fire, but Margaret's presence forced him to drop the issue. He debated making a run for it, but he had to retain some dignity. He excused himself to the bathroom. Cold water relieved some of the burning in his skin. God his eyes hurt! He leaned on the vanity and gazed into the sink, breathing heavily, willing his self-control to return. Dana, was still rattled but felt a small victory. She didn't want to shout down her partner, but he was so obsessed. That tactic had often worked in the past to pull him back into reality. One point for me she snorted. "Do you want me to ask him to leave?" Maggie asked as she poured the tea. "No mom, he'll pull out of it. He needs to see that I'm alive and well. That should be enough." "Don't you think you'd try to do the same for him if he went missing?" That struck a nerve. Margaret had seen her daughter in controlled frenzy, when Mulder was lost in Puerto Rico. She was sure it wouldn't be the last time they would be separated by crisis. "I would look forever" Dana whispered, gaining sudden insight. She was hit with an overwhelming sense of empathy. Fox Mulder had lost two people who were dear to him. Only one had returned. She understood. She blinked out a single tear of regret. "Tea is on Fox." Margaret tactfully bridged the awkwardness of his return. "Oh Dana dear, I left the other goodie tray in the kitchen, would you get it for me?" When her daughter took her cue, Margaret turned to Mulder and said, not unkindly "Please Fox, you have to let Dana come to terms with her loss. She needs more time - maybe she won't ever be able to answer your questions. It's just not important right now." Mulder nodded knowingly, but not wholly accepting Margaret's take on the matter. Scully returned bearing muffins and cheese. They passed the next few hours in pleasant conversation, future non-specific plans. Margaret was at her most charming hostess-self. Mulder played the perfect guest. Dana polished her witty repartee and joined in with opinions. She especially enjoyed watching her mom tear down Mulder's walls in the most endearing manner. Only her mom could get away with it. The rare instances where Margaret left them alone, Dana grinned slyly at the spotlight over her partner. "What?" he feigned innocence at her smiling stare. "Why do you let her do that to you?" "Do what?" "Turn you into some kind of 'cute mutant'." Margaret would return to the room to hear teasing and snickers. That's better she sighed. Lying awake in her bed that night, Dana couldn't suppress her grins. She felt so strong today, verbalizing her plans to return to work, standing up to her partner's inquisition, leading conversation on a multitude of topics. She felt more in control. Her therapist would be pleased with her progress. The days unfolded and her self-esteem grew. Eventually, the resignation that she might never remember settled in on Dana Scully. When she could no longer answer her own questions, she listed the facts as she knew them: 1) I was taken 2) I was missing for a month 3) I was returned 4) I have no memory of it. A tidy little analytical package to be filed away. It was useless to agonize. She was just so relieved to be returning to her former strength. Next stop: the office of the X-Files. III. Revelations Place: The X-Files office True to her word, and much to the protests of her caregivers, Dana Scully returned to work sooner rather than later. Mulder received a call from Dr. Fielding, the psychologist, prior to her reappearance. "Due to the nature of your work, Agent Mulder" he explained "I must warn you that she'll have a low tolerance for stressful situations. She will need to start slowly and with a certain amount of supervision." "I can't babysit her, much as I'd like to." Mulder retorted. "She just won't tolerate it and it would only increase the tension. But I'll do my best to curtail the really scary stuff until I think she's ready." Fortunately, Dr. Fielding had a sense of humor. "Right, low-level monsters. Oh, and Agent Mulder, please don't probe her for abduction theories. We're not making any progress there and it *is* bothering her, though she may deny it. I don't want her to suppress it forever." "I hear you." "However, she is most anxious to resume her work and that is a good sign. You'll be able to help her in that regard, just don't expect too much. And I still want to see her every week, will that be a problem?" "No problem there." The day matched her mood. A brilliant sun lit the cloudless sky a rare sight in Washington in November. She came in bright and early that Wednesday morning, dressed in a new deep blue suit to complement her eyes. She was greeted warmly by security and a few cronies in the hallway. 'Welcome back' was their collective greeting. She anticipated a happy reception from her partner when she opened the door to the basement office, but he wasn't there. The surroundings seemed different too. Rather ... alien. Tidier? She imagined him in a ruffled apron, waving a feather duster. The housecleaning was his gesture of welcome. She walked to her desk, depositing the briefcase on her chair. It took a moment before her eyes focused on a small clumsily wrapped gift sitting next to a potted violet. She smiled and ripped open the paper. It was a perpetual calendar with a Victorian motif and inscribed: 'May you never lose time - Regards, Mulder'. 'Regards' - how very Mulder-ish Where was he? She scanned the room once more. As if on cue, the door swung open. "Honey, I'm home!" he announced in a sing-song voice. He struggled with two coffees and a sack of morning comestibles. "Hi Scully" as if it were another day. "Teacher's not looking so I brought you some caffeine and sugar. You don't have to have it if you don't - " "I haven't had a coffee for so long, well maybe just a few sips." She did indeed feel like a truant schoolgirl. "What's in the bag?" Mulder peered in, as if it were bottomless. "We've got an apple Danish, a muffin - bran, you know, in case... and let's see - two jam busters. What's your poison?" "I'll take the Danish. Ugh, this coffee tastes funny." "Your Danish, Dana" he handed it to her wrapped in a serviette. He didn't notice her setting the coffee down, far away, and covering her nose. "D'you like your plant to replace the one I murdered?" "It's beautiful Mulder, thank you - and for the calendar." His head hung momentarily, but rose again bearing a smile. "Welcome back partner." The door moved open propelled by a small knock. A.D. Skinner stepped in. "Rather early for a break, isn't it?" Mulder held up the bag. "Muffin sir?" Skinner ignored him. "I wanted to come by and welcome you back Agent Scully. If it's not too soon, I'd like you and Mulder to come up in about - " he glanced at his watch "45 minutes for a briefing - that is, if you're finished your coffee by then. And Scully, have Personnel send down the regulation ream of paper regarding your medical leave." And with that, he left. "He really should have taken the muffin" Mulder deadpanned. December 13 She awoke in a fog to the rude buzzing of the alarm clock. Mornings were hard to face and the first two days back at work had been exhausting. A robotic hand waved around and came down on the snooze bar. What's wrong with me? She attributed the drowsiness to her daily prescription cocktail, but this nausea - ? not again! No time to ponder it - she bolted from her bed and barely made it to the bathroom. Wave after wave emptied from her stomach and she was sweating profusely. She slumped against the tub, but reprieve was short-lived. Within minutes, she was again hunkered over the toilet bowl, vomiting violently. Back in her bed, face buried under a cold towel, Dana recalled earlier incidents of this nausea, in the hospital and at her mother's. Must be the flu. She dozed off. X-Files office "Mornin' Scully." Mulder did a double take when his partner walked in. Her hair was still damp and straight. Her face was ashen, despite a brave attempt at makeup. Her usual business attire was replaced by an unmatched jacket and loose cotton trousers. She looked like death warmed over, but he would never say it. "Bagel?" he asked instead. "No! ... thanks." she winced. Mulder silently chewed on the last of his roll. He absent-mindedly looked at his watch, she was later than she had been on the previous days. Not to worry. "TGIF, eh Scully?" "Yeah." She grinned weakly, "this paperwork is making me ill." "Well no offense, but it doesn't look like you could handle an autopsy just yet. Are you sleeping alright?" "Well enough," she lied. "I think it's time to lower my dosages. All these drugs are doing a tap-dance on my metabolism." He approached her desk and sat on the corner. "Well just do what you can this morning - you've got a date with Fielding this afternoon, right? You can just go home after that, catch up on your rest." His intentions were kind and he underlined his concern with a hand on her shoulder. She jerked it away - "Stop patronizing me Mulder!" He blinked in confusion and heard Scully gasp in an equal measure of surprise. "... I - I'm sorry." Her eyes darted about. "No problem Scully." He slowly walked back to his turf. They worked in silence, Mulder resumed the sorting of his slides, Scully reviewed current medical journals. They each took a phone call and Scully placed one, confirming her appointment at the hospital. Mulder was called out to assist on profiling a serial rapist/ murderer for Violent Crimes and stayed out for the remainder of the day. He found it particularly disturbing while interviewing one of the few survivors. Laura was a young professional woman, but the ordeal had shattered any traces of her former vibrancy. Mulder saw dangerous signs and warned her caregivers not to let her out of their sight. His thoughts turned to his partner and he managed the time to ring her in the afternoon, but was informed she had left for the day. Just as well. He debated pressing auto-dial #1 on his cel, but feared he'd be interrupting a session with one doctor or another. I'll call her tonight. 3:30 p.m. "Dana, have a seat. You're looking rather weary. Here, have some water and tell me about your days at work." She bristled, but was too tired to defend her appearance. "It's been gruelling, mentally - as in, too dull, nothing to challenge. I really need something to stimulate me, but Mulder won't let me in." That didn't come out right. The good doctor raised his eyebrow and jotted a note. "I mean to say, oh, it's just not the same. He's treating me like a piece of porcelain. Or he just clams up." "Why do you suppose that is?" "I - guess - he's concerned for my state of mind. He thinks that, because I can't remember anything of my abduction, that I'm going to have a relapse. Or break into hysterics. He's always been overly protective of people he ... of partn- ... of me. I guess I remind him of his sister." Dr. Fielding took more notes and nodded. He'd heard the very sad account of the sister's disappearance and knew it had direct bearing on Agent Mulder's feelings toward Dana Scully. He believed it was deeper than that, but there was no need to divulge that now. "How does that make you feel?" She smiled and closed her eyes. "What's so amusing Dana?" "I never thought I'd be sitting here having a shrink ask me 'how that makes me feel'. Next question." "How about addressing the previous one?" he pressed gently. "No, I'll pass, really." Evasion he jotted. 9:30 p.m. Mulder had finally left the office an hour before, stopping to pick up some not-too-spicy Chinese for two. The aroma of steamed vegetables and rice filled his nostrils as he drove toward her apartment. He saw a dim light in her living room and hoped she was up, or watching TV. She'd seemed so spiritless this morning. He was certain it was back-to-work rigours. I'll leave if she doesn't want company. It took a few quiet knocks on the door before it opened slightly, closed for the chain to slide back, then opened again. No word of greeting was forthcoming as she dragged herself back to the couch, lay down, and cocooned herself in the afghan. Mulder took a nearby chair. He suddenly felt quite intrusive. "Are you hungry Scully?" She didn't reply for a few seconds, then mumbled softly "No. But you go ahead." "That's okay. I'm not hungry anymore." He sat with his eyes closed, the only sound being their rhythmic breathing. After 15 minutes, he rose to leave. With his hand on the doorknob, he heard a weak voice, "Mulder?" He turned to see her head raise slightly from the pillow. He couldn't be sure in this light, but she seemed to have been crying. "Yes Scully?" "Remember Idaho?" she slurred " - when you ditched me and ran off to Ellens Air Force Base?" He fell silent. He knew where this was going. "... when those men drugged you? You said they'd erased part of your memory - of the classified technology you'd seen." He made his way to her side and sat on the floor. He lifted his hand to touch hers, but recalled her reaction this morning, and rested it on the couch instead. He sighed heavily, "I was in agony over that for a long time. When I realized that someone injected me and rewired my brain ... but I had no memory of it." "You wouldn't talk about it." "I felt ashamed, furious, completely without control." "I worried about you. I knew the nightmares were bad. That's when you started phoning me, after the worst ones. I didn't know what to do for you, to help you get through it." "You were just there, Scully, that was enough." Now she reached out and placed her hand on his. "And you're here for me. And I really do appreciate it... Now go home, and take that smelly food with you." He laughed softly as he stood, then found himself leaning down to kiss her head. "Need anything?" "No, thank you, g'night Mulder, I'll call you tomorrow." Monday, December 16 "Oh, God no." Mulder squeezed his eyes shut upon receiving the news over the phone. Scully looked up in concern. "When did it happen? Yeah, I see... uh, I don't know - " he wrote the word 'autopsy?' on a legal pad and flashed it up to his partner. She nodded. "She says she'll do it... Okay, 3:30... Damn right we will - the sick bastard. Right, later." "Another victim?" she inquired. "You could say that. Laura, the woman I met with on Friday. She slashed her wrists sometime through the night. They're bringing her in now and our guys are backed up. There'll be a bay available this afternoon, are you sure you're up to it?" "Mulder, I know what I'm doing." He studied her for a moment. Did she mean, she knew the procedure or she knew she was ready for the procedure? He decided to let her decide. 3:45 p.m. "Victim is a Caucasian female, age 27. Cause of death, massive blood loss due to self-inflicted wounds to the left wrist. Slashes measuring ... 5.7 centimeters, 3.5 centimeters and 2.6 centimeters." Dr. Scully spoke with practiced clinical detachment while she recorded the preliminary data. She adjusted the microphone as she pulled back the sheet to begin cutting. Clearing her throat, she made an incision in the belly and reached for clamps. "It appears... the victim was... approximately - 6 weeks pregnant - " "What?" Mulder sprang from his seat in the corner, almost choking on a sunflower seed. Why hadn't the doctors disclosed this? This was important information. Laura hadn't been very coherent, but this should have been in the unit's follow-up report. "It was probably too early for her to know. We're dealing with an embryo the size of a grain of rice," she reminded him. "Or maybe she did know." Mulder flipped the pages on his clipboard. "She was due at the hospital for a follow-up examination ... today." Scully removed the placenta which cocooned the tiny shape and stared at it in wonder. Mulder came up beside her and she hurriedly resumed her work, dictating facts into the microphone. "Scully, can you get a DNA sample from this embryo? We might just be able to nail our suspect sooner than we thought." Friday, December 20 The DNA results would allow the Violent Crimes team to close in on the rapist/ murder by the end of the week. They would soon make an arrest. Scully felt overwhelmed - with elation at helping to identify the monster and with pain for the victim and the tiny life within. "Well done, Dr. Scully! You just cracked this case. That bastard will be put away for a long time." Mulder beamed. She smiled weakly. He jumped from his chair and announced they had a meeting with Skinner in a half an hour. "I'm ready for a juicy X-File, Scully, how about you?" She just stared at him. "Sorry, that was tactless," he murmured. "I've got to pick up some reports from the lab. Be back soon." He sprinted out the door. Dana sat staring at the flashing cursor on her screen. She was alone with the image of that poor young woman who couldn't cope with what had been done to her. What horrid images haunted Laura in her last moments? Maybe I don't want to know what happened to me. A large tear splashed onto the paper on her desk. Her burdened shoulders heaved as she sobbed uncontrollably. They sat in Skinner's office while their A.D. reeled off a synopsis of their new case. Scully appeared to be listening, but Mulder knew she was not. While Skinner and her partner studied the photos in the folder, Scully jerked in her chair and leaned forward. Mulder's nervous eyes looked her way. "There'll be a delay in recovering the bodies, due to the weather in the mountains, but arrangements have been made for you to leave Monday. I'm sorry if this disrupts any holiday plans Agent Scully." "Huh? Yes sir. I'll be ready." By the middle of the afternoon, Scully was suffering frequent abdominal cramps. She'd tried to muffle the cries of pain as she doubled over in her chair. Mulder could only stare at her, eyes pleading. "I think you'd better take me to the hospital." she surrendered. D.C. General Mulder's urgent phone call to Dr. Jill Logan got results. The paperwork was blessedly brief and Dana Scully was readmitted for tests. She was taken to an examining room, Mulder refusing to leave her side until the doctor arrived. She sat on the table, in obvious agony. Her breathing was closer to gasps as the cramps came on, now more severely. Her frantic eyes teared up as she flailed at Mulder's arms for support. When the spasms ebbed, he held her and whispered "Just hang in there Scully." What the hell is keeping them? He couldn't leave her to get help. She panted and clung to him. "Ah-Aghhhh! Take me - bathroom - quick!" she growled. He swept her up in his arms and nearly ran to the cubicle. She shut the door swiftly behind her. Mulder dashed to the hallway. "HELP - NOW!" A tortured scream pierced the air. "SOMEBODY GET in HERE!" Mulder roared. He was almost bowled over by the squad of medical staff. They rushed the small bathroom and scrambled out for a gurney and equipment. Mulder could only gawk in horror as his partner was wheeled into an adjoining room. Blood stained the front of her gown and dripped down her legs. A nurse emerged from the bathroom carrying something swilling in a pail. "What is it - what happened?" Mulder wheezed. The remaining intern in the bathroom stepped out, pulling the blood-spattered gloves from his hands. "I'm so sorry sir, your wife had a spontaneous abortion - a miscarriage." "Sir - I said, can we call anybody else? Do you want us to get help for you?" the intern persisted. Dr. Logan rushed into the room for the first time. "I've got it Chin. Agent Mulder, did she know she was pregnant?" He just stared at her, words locked in his throat. "Chin, notify Dana Scully's mother, they have her number at Admissions. Just tell her Dana's back in, no details. Sit, Agent Mulder, I'll be back as soon as possible." He fell into the hard chair as Dr. Logan rushed into the adjoining room where a team hovered over the frantic woman. A nurse caught Mulder's agonized eyes as she drew the curtain shut. Logan briefed the attending staff that Dana Scully's was a special case. "She's a Federal Agent, remember from last month? She was probably impregnated during her abduction. Damn it, why didn't I check that!?" "I remember her Jill. From your report, it sounds like it was miracle enough that you kept her alive." When they were sure that their patient was clean of any remaining tissue, the nurses gently bathed her and wrapped her in a fresh gown. They made her as comfortable as possible as she drifted out from the anaesthesia. She was transferred to a private room. Dr. Logan inhaled deeply and walked into the examining room where Fox Mulder sat, unmoving... As if he hadn't budged an inch since she'd placed him there ninety minutes ago. "Agent Mulder. Mr. Mulder?" the glass of water and cold coffee on the side table indicated that he had been offered comfort. But it took him a minute to realize the new voice belonged to Dr. Logan. "Agent Mulder, Dana is going to be fine. She's in a room, you can go to her. The fetus is being examined." she paused to offer him the water. "Agent Mulder? Do you know anything about this? Did she tell you she was pregnant?" He found his voice. "She didn't know. I - didn't know she had a lover. She didn't tell me." "Would you like something to ease the shock? Would you like to lay down?" "I - want to see her." An aide took him up to room 45. He laid his head against the closed door and decided to go to the men's room first. Washing his face with icy water jarred him back into this world. Zombie-like, he walked down the hall. The heavy door to room 45 was now ajar. Margaret had come. Mulder knew in his heart that a mother was the best comfort now. He could hear Dana's wailing sobs. He only caught snippets of the exchange: 'Darling, my first was stillborn - you can try again' then a loud protest '...You don't understand! I haven't had sexual intercourse in three years!' Mulder stepped back as if hit by a current. Then she *was* raped his mind screamed in denial. He fled into the hall almost barreling down a food cart. Margaret stared, stunned, into her daughter's tear-washed eyes. She wanted to speak but could not even swallow. Hearing the word 'miscarriage', she had thought that this baby had been the unplanned consequence of the love she knew that Fox and Dana bore for each other. The X-Files had been shut down before Dana's abduction. They could have had a tryst then. But as ever, Dana had adamantly denied any personal relationship with Fox. Margaret creased her brow in disgust as she considered the alternatives. Another man then? The thought was mercifully not expressed. Three years since - ? Dana taken... It didn't register at first. Then the word 'rape' died on Margaret's lips. She rocked her daughter and they both cried. It was then, through the blur of tears, that Margaret saw Fox's retreating form down the hall. Dana rambled incoherently. "What did they do to me? What if it aborted because it wasn't human? Mom, who did this to me?" IV. The Truth DC General Laboratories Dr. Jill Logan concurred with the technicians. Their examinations revealed that the fetus was male, 10 -12 weeks. She jotted 'inevitable miscarriage' occurring when the fetus had died in utero. Nothing could have prevented this. Logan would have to inquire as to the patient's symptoms after the fact. Conception may have occurred in the first two weeks of October, 1994. The patient had ovulated sometime during her disappearance, but the exact date could not be determined. Jill snapped her clipboard shut and let regret run amok. She had to do something to help this woman learn the truth. "Brent, could you do a DNA on the fetus' tissue? The patient's pattern is in this file, from when she was here last month." Then a thought occurred to her. "Uh, wait, I'm going to get you to run a second one. Let me check the freezer. And Brent, could you put a rush on these? Yeah I know, Merry Christmas to you too, I owe you." December 22 Jill Logan sat at her desk, clumping her hair in a fist until her scalp hurt. She studied the test results for the fourth time, hoping she was in error. She was angry, but not surprised. She felt duped. She had suspected they were illicit lovers. But why continue the charade? Fox Mulder was the father of this unborn child. Jill was torn between remorse for her own subterfuge and ire at the fool she was being played for. He's covering up an affair, possibly a sexual assault. The doting was nothing but guilt, pure and simple. Time for a confrontation. She found him in the ward's waiting room, he had been practically camped there all night in case Scully wanted him or until he got up the courage to see her. "Mr. Mulder, may I have a word with you in private?" Dr. Logan's tone was unreadable. "Scully? -" "She's fine, I've had some - uh - insight into her situation. Just come with me please." He obediently followed the doctor to an office. He detected a change in her demeanor, something was wrong. He blurted out - "The fetus, it's not human, is it?" Her look of disgust almost severed him. "What the *hell* are you talking about? Look Mr. Mulder, I pulled two distinct DNA patterns from the fetus." She paused to get the wording right. "I wanted to rule out your involvement with this alleged rape, so I ran a DNA test on your blood." "My blood?" "It was a perfect match. There is no need to hunt down an imaginary rapist or *alien* daddy. The baby was yours! Why didn't you tell me?" Fox Mulder was dazed into paralysis. Through a long tunnel he heard a tirade of blame and disjointed rage directed his way. The baby was mine? His eyes darted in their orbits, his mouth quivered to replay the words. Suddenly snapping into defense mode, he shouted. "That's impossible! We've never had sexual intercourse!" Logan's eyes widened and then narrowed in incredulity. You bastard "You don't need to deny it," she hissed. "YOU were the father of that child." "We have *never* been intimate." he enunciated carefully. He stared at her with pain-filled eyes as his voice dropped to a whisper. "*Never*" The doctor was breathing hard, she was beginning to loose patience with his whitewash. Or was he blocking it out, as Dana had? Mulder appeared to be in shock. He eyes were riveted to the floor and he was quietly panting. In mute horror, Logan read the undeniable anguish on his face. She realized he was telling the truth. Her mind searched for the alternate possibilities for conception. Her eyes questioned this broken man. She viewed his bent head and shaking frame. What kind of sick game was going on here? "How then?" she asked in a firm voice. "Have you ever donated to a sperm bank?" He shook his head, "Never." "When was your last sexual encounter? Could there have been an unaccounted for condom?" He was ashamed and shocked at the thought that none was used with Kristen Kilar. "Last month," he whispered, "but she was killed shortly after in a house fire." "Agent Mulder, I can't comprehend how your sperm could have been extracted without your knowledge. Have you been seeing a urologist? How -?" He couldn't respond. He gasped for air between sobs. Dr. Logan changed her accusatory timbre to one of sincere sympathy. She handed him some tissue. "My God, I don't know what happened, and I don't think you do either." She paused to gather her thoughts. "But I'm sure you'll agree that Dana must be told." She knew she was right, though it may do her patient serious harm ...it's killing him. She returned to study the printouts and added notes to the file, while Mulder regained his composure. They appeared at room 45 and Dr. Logan knocked softly. Dana was sitting up in her bed. Her mom had brought her a robe and she looked so tiny wrapped up in its warmth. Her red hair was unkempt and those blue eyes seemed faded with unnatural sleep and spent tears. "Good morning Dana." she entered, but Mulder stayed back. Dr. Logan inquired as to her physical comfort and gently examined her vital signs for change. The women had a professional discussion regarding the shock to her system, the loss of blood, the effectiveness of the pain killers. Something she can relate to in doctor-ese. Lord knows this next news is going to be incomprehensible. "Dana, I've uncovered some information that I think you should know. If you don't mind, I've brought someone who would like to see you." Dana peered toward the door, half expecting to see Dr. Fielding or a medical scientist, even her mother. She did not expect to see Fox Mulder. He hesitantly entered the room. He looks worse than I do she noted. It was with some confusion that she welcomed the sight. He knows something. Mulder rounded the bed and sat beside her. He looked at her frail hands and took them in his. He had no words, save "I'm so sorry Dana." She cocked her head to the side. Was it sympathy-sorry or "Dana, I ran a DNA on the fetus's tissue. I was able to confirm the identity of the father. We thought you should know." Her heart beat out of control. They knew ... "You know? You know ..." she stared down at the sheet. "...who *raped* me?" Fox Mulder could not retain his protective bravado. His hand began to spasm. A small gurgle came from within. The revelation hit Dana like electricity to the temples. She slumped sideways and her partner gently circled his arms about her limp frame. She hadn't fainted, but was completely senseless. Mulder? Fox Mulder? He did this? Dana felt his trembling arms lower her to the pillows. The shaking of his sobs kept her from total blackout. She was suddenly aware that he was caressing her hair and face as a lover would. But this was not right! She weakly pushed him away and curled into a fetal position. "Dana, please listen" the doctor's voice sounded far away. "I'm certain that Agent Mulder cannot be implicated in this artificial insemination. You'll confirm that you were never intimate with him? This was done to you while you were missing Dana, and I didn't catch it. I can't tell you how sorry I am." Never, in her years of practice, had she known a case like this. Never had she dealt with so many unanswered questions. Dana began to tremble uncontrollably. Mulder again reached out to comfort her. "NO!" she screamed, fury lashing out. She ripped the IV out of her wrist and kicked wildly, knocking her partner off his perch. He stood back, mouth agape. "Dana!" he wailed. Dr. Logan attempted to calm her and received a wild punch for her efforts. The call button was pushed and help ran into the room. Mulder could not bear to witness her breakdown and feared one for himself. He bolted. V. Dealing With It Sunday, December 22 afternoon He didn't know where to go when he burst out of the hospital stairwell into the main entrance. His heart pumped furiously and he really needed some air. He slowed his gait and staggered outside into a swath of cheerful sunlight. A green-space off to the side of the building offered benches and silence. He stumbled through a blur of tears and fumbled for his shades. Praying for privacy, he slumped into the wooden slats. His mind was reeling. This was his worst nightmare come true. Not only had his Dana been taken, she had been experimented on in a heinous fashion. He now shared her terror - for he had also been 'taken' in a sense. When did it happen? Was it as far back as the night Sam was taken? He was told he was catatonic when they'd found him. Was it something in his genetic code that prevented her from carrying to term? God, he felt helpless. They'd used him to ... Blood rushed up his cheeks as he tried to suppress the horror. His shaded eyes caught the form of a man strolling down the path. He was wearing some kind of pouch on his chest and was laden with a large cloth bag. Mulder searched for a handkerchief and tried to regain a modicum of composure. The man neared and Mulder realized it was a baby pouch. He tried to look away. As the 30-something father ambled by, an item fell from the diaper bag - a small stuffed toy. He just stared at it at first. Damn, he'll need that he picked up the toy and caught up to him. "Sir, you dropped this." "Wha- oh, thanks a lot, she really would've missed her favorite bunny." He pushed back the baby blanket to reveal a sleeping beauty, all chubby of cheek and pink and sweet. He tucked the toy into the diaper bag and zipped it up. Mulder was riveted by the infant. "She's beautiful" he whispered. He took off his shades to see her more clearly, revealing red and puffy eyes. "Thanks, I have to agree with you on that. Did you just have a baby?" "No. My ... she ... it - was - miscarried." There. Admission. The man's faux pas caught in his throat. "I'm sorry. I know what you're going through. We lost two before this angel came to us. But her birth was rough on my partner." Mulder heard 'partner' and remembered that it was a '90's term of endearment for one's soul mate. "How is she? I mean, after the first miscarriages? Was it physical pain? Did the trauma go away?" The new father looked to the trees, to the sky, now he too was gurgling on a tear. "No, it never really leaves a woman. I grieved too, but I ached more for her, I felt so helpless. Yeah, she was in some pain for a few days, but that's nothing compared to the drawn-out agony up here" as he pointed to his head. "Is your partner going to be okay?" "I don't know, the whole situation was - uh - unplanned." that was as far as he wanted to take that particular confession. He craved guidance for what to say or do to help Scully through this. The man fell silent for a few seconds. "You just have to be there for her and really listen to everything she says, all the anger and the crying - it's *got* to come out and you have to catch it. It's going to be very hard to cope, especially if the baby was wanted, but even if it wasn't. We'll never know how it really feels, but you have to help her anyway you can. Don't even think about sex for a few months, but cuddle her, keep her physically close, let yourselves grieve. In time, you'll get through it together." Mulder was stunned by the honest advice that this stranger freely gave. Definitely a sensitive new-age guy. Sex? How utterly ironic. If he only knew... Snapping out of his reverie, Mulder thanked him. "Would you like to hold her? Her name is Summer." "No, no I don't think that would be a good idea." their eyes connected briefly. Mulder nodded his gratitude. Then they each turned and walked away. Somehow, he found his way back to his apartment. The stranger's words had given him something to ponder. But as to how it happened? He had no one to trust. It was far too personal to seek help from the Lone Gunmen until he'd formulated his own theory and came to terms with his own emotions. He thought to sink into a movie from his collection. Choosing randomly, he slid the tape into the machine. They were all the same, no beginning, no plot, no ending - just raw emotionless sex. His eyes glazed over as he studied the face of the young woman in the film. She looked eerily like Laura. Mulder was unnerved. Her moans and giggles against the cheesy saxophone backdrop was disturbing. He hit the mute button. The man and woman were acting out a lustful coupling. No condom against STD's, no precautions against pregnancy, no emotional responsibility to 'call her in the morning'. No love. This gives the term fantasy a whole new meaning. Why do I watch this stuff anyway? He seriously considered trashing the whole lot right then. Stopping the tape, he saw the TV was tuned on to the 'all-horror network'. A classic : "Them", showed the mutant giant killer ants terrorizing the scientists through the desert. How droll it seemed. He understood how the outside world, even his fellow agents could ridicule the X-Files. He'd adopted an arrogant attitude they couldn't comprehend, so they laughed. He flipped to the Bogart channel - "Casablanca", a film he hadn't seen in many years. The ending had always confused him. Now suddenly, he understood the ache Rick felt in letting Ilsa go. There came a soft rap at the door. On auto-pilot, he crossed the room to open it. He was somewhat taken aback by the figure of A.D. Skinner, in civvies. "I heard Agent Scully was re-admitted to the hospital." Mulder just stared. Skinner had been out of D.C. over the weekend. He must have found the memo on his desk. "I left a couple of messages with you and at the hospital," he continued, "but they wouldn't tell me anything if I wasn't family. I guess the FBI doesn't have as much clout as we'd like to believe. What can you tell me Agent Mulder?" What *can* I tell you? The horror was all so raw, but he was desperate for support. "You'd better come in." This has been a rare day, he thought as he motioned Skinner in. Mulder wearily flopped back on his couch and the A.D. found a chair without too much paper piled on it. Mulder buried his face in his palms. "You're going to have a hard time following this one sir. I don't understand it myself. I must have your word that this is all off the record. It's very - uh -personal. You have to know and brace yourself for some tension if Scully decides to return to the Bureau. And please, she can't be prodded in any meeting." Skinner smirked at his agent's blunt assessment of their meetings, but he recognized that this must be severe post-traumatic-stress, related to her abduction. He was not one to dismiss this lightly. "Do you have anything to drink?" Mulder chuckled. "Oh, yeah, sure. Iced tea? Some coffee? Wait, I have a bottle of scotch my father gave me for Christmas, years ago. I guess he thinks everybody drinks like he does." Skinner thought about the mood of the conversation and could only imagine where it was headed. "This sounds like a scotch forum." Mulder pulled out an iced tea, but reconsidered. He fumbled for tumblers and discovered some ice in the back of the freezer compartment. He handed over a glass. "Thanks", Skinner took a healthy gulp. Mulder did likewise and winced at the heat of the nectar. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. He spoke numbly, almost clinically. "I guess the 'situation' began when she was taken. Something vile was performed on her that wasn't apparent until Friday. Sir, Scully had a miscarriage." It took an eternity for Mulder's words to reach Skinner's brain. "She was raped?" he whispered. "In a manner of speaking. She was artificially inseminated." he braced himself to continue "...with my sperm." Skinner froze, then hung his head. What the hell -- ? He wondered for an instant if Mulder wasn't couching this very real tragedy in some kind of pseudo X-File. Was Mulder having him on? One look at his agent's tortured form told him. No, he is telling the truth as he knows it - this is killing him. This time the bastards are killing them. "You have to believe me sir, Scully and I have never been intimate. I respect her too much for that." Skinner took in his agent's self-depreciating comment. He knew very little of Fox Mulder's private life, past or present. He just viewed him as some kind of working machine. A pain in the ass at times, who balked at protocol every chance he got. The Assistant Director had heard rumors about 'Mr. & Mrs. Spooky', but nothing substantiated. His agents weren't stupid. They knew the ramifications of relationships within the bureau. He also knew that Fox Mulder and Dana Scully had a special bond. What was done to them made him feel ill. "I believe you." he simply said. Walter Skinner recalled his tours in Viet Nam when his buddies had received word of crises at home. He had spent many hours listening, consoling. Despite the hell on earth that was war, humanity and brotherhood found a way. Mulder was now separated from Dana Scully as surely as his comrades had been from their wives or parents. There had been one such a man, a good friend whose wife delivered their stillborn child all alone, back home. Skinner had stayed up all night with him, mourning with him. This was not the same though, Mulder had played an unwitting part in this tragedy. He needed consoling of a different kind. Perhaps it was his earlier encounter with Summer's father, or maybe it was the scotch, but Mulder accepted and acknowledged Skinner's faith in him. The silence stretched out into an uncomfortable length. He replayed the confession of his non-intimacy with Dana Scully. A voice he barely recognized as his own whispered "but I wish we had." Skinner's head raised up and he delivered a penetrating stare. "It would have been easier to accept if we were involved. I would do anything to spare her this anguish. I would like to love her. But we've - never - even - kissed." He drained his glass and shook the ice cubes, smiling at the significance sexual repression, indeed. Skinner rose to pour two more glasses. He put a comforting hand on his agent's shoulder. "I am truly sorry, Mulder." Knowing he was neglecting the key player in this nightmare, he quickly added "How is Scully holding up?" "Not well. Her mother's with her now." Mulder stared into his glass, swirling the golden liquid around the ice. "Scully hadn't come to terms with the lost time yet... And there were painful symptoms, but she thought she had a lingering flu..." "Yeah, I saw her dash into the ladies' room after you left my office on Friday. I called down to the autopsy bay last Monday and her voice didn't sound right. Did she suspect she was pregnant?" "I - don't think so." he took another sip. "She's been hit with three body slams in a row, and I'm so scrambled about my part in this. I can't even think straight. I feel responsible, even though I didn't --" "You're damn right. You *didn't*! Looks like I'll have to take on Scully's role of stopping your self-flagellation." Mulder smiled sheepishly. Skinner continued "So what are we going to do about this investigation?" "We - ?" Mulder stood ... bad move. He felt the vertigo effect of straight-up scotch on an empty stomach. He remembered why he didn't drink much. Skinner noticed. "Let's get something to eat." Date: December 23, 3:06 a.m. "Nurse? Please help her, she's thrashing around and I can't stop her." Margaret Scully was frantic. She felt clammy now, and short of breath. *More* pain, but it was coming from inside her abdomen. How could this be? She glanced down at her swollen belly and felt as if it were ripping her apart. She could not make a sound but soon heard another's cry. A mewling hiccuping noise. Suddenly a white coat placed a small bundle next to her. W-what? A baby? None of this makes sense. But there it was, a little boy with a dark mass of hair. She couldn't bear to touch the infant, but he stopped crying of his own accord and opened his brown eyes. Not the unfocused face of a newborn, rather, one of a miniature adult. The face looked so familiar. The infant parted his lips and spoke in perfect language - "Hello mother." Dana choked on a scream. The face of the child began to turn a pale gray. The eyes became larger and blacker and its head seemed to swell. Its tiny hands contorted into long fingered tentacles... Margaret could only stare at her daughter's night terror and weep. She was sitting beside the bed when her daughter roused. Dana was disoriented and asked for water. "Do you want me to get a nurse, baby? You've had a rough night. If you're hungry, your tray is still here." It comforted her to fuss over her daughter. It helped her cope with the horror of what Dr. Logan had revealed last night. The sedative clouded Dana's thoughts. It took several minutes for her to realize that she was back in the hospital and why. The ache flooded back. "Mom?" she whimpered, "did it really happen?" "Baby, the doctor said you're going to need a few days' rest here. Then you'll be coming home with me until you decide what to do. Shhhh, you'll be fine." "I'm *not* fine mom. I don't know what happened to me. I can't remember anything." "That's the hardest part Dana. You've got to take it very slowly." Margaret swallowed. "Pregnancy is supposed to be a beautiful experience, and it is, when all goes well. A miscarriage is very traumatic. Not knowing how they - impregnated you is the worst." "The worst?" Dana gasped. "No mom, the worst is that whoever did this to me will do it again - to me and to others." She suddenly recalled Mulder's 'involvement' and the shame stole up her neck and into her face. "and - Oh God, Mul-der-r ..." she hyperventilated with wracking sobs. Maggie held her tighter. "Darling, I can't tell you how to feel, but please don't blame Fox. Whatever happened, however it happened, he was not responsible. He would never knowingly harm you darling, he cares very much for you." Dr. Fielding came to room 45 at Logan's request. The holiday season was, ironically, his busiest time of the year. He was weary, but this setback in Dana Scully's therapy had been a blow, and she needed guidance. He had been briefed and merely shook his head in disbelief. How was she going to get through this? Her attitude surprised him. Hardly textbook, given the physical and emotional maelstrom she had just come through. He found her sitting up, making notes. This was her way of dealing with it and he allowed her to tell him her theories. She was trying to think analytically, to balance her doctor/ victim position. She was very anxious to hear his thoughts on the matter. Almost as if she were conducting an investigation of her own. "Mulder has had his share of unexplained absences in the past, Dr. Fielding. He's had his own incidents of stolen memories." she calmly explained. "There could have been occasion any of the times he was sedated or comatose in a hospital bed. Specimens could have been taken and stored without his knowledge. Artificial insemination was the likely method. He is, without a doubt, totally innocent of any wrongdoing. I believe you should be talking to him doctor, he can't be taking this very well." He listened carefully, while his mind played a track bed of symptoms: patient removes herself from scenario, resumes the healer's role, now that another is involved. Transference. "Dana, the doctor in you is trying to wrangle with the horror of your body having been used as a lab." he opined. "I don't doubt that your partner grieved for you while you were missing and again at your recent trauma. Now that he is personally - uh - involved, he has another layer of agony. And yes, he will be set up for counseling." Fielding took a breath and tried to read her eyes. "Your theories are very sound Dr. Scully but I'm here to talk with Dana, the woman. How is she grieving?" She gave a sad, contorted little smile. "I hang out with too many head doctors." she mused. She lay her head back on the headboard and adjusted her pillows, plumping up the nerve to reveal. When she could avoid it no longer, it escaped as a long sigh. "I think I've used up all my tears. It suffers me to think how I was used, but as strange as it sounds, knowing that I'm not alone - that my partner was also used... I take some comfort in that. That sounds selfish, I wouldn't wish this on anybody. But we've been through so much in two years, you know?" She snickered nervously. "We've literally saved each other's' hides more times than I care to remember." "I don't doubt that for a minute." The doctor smiled sympathetically. This was heading in the right direction. "Now we're in this together too. He is my dearest friend, and he understands what this is doing to me, probably better than I do. I've always tried to shut him out you know? but I guess we've gone beyond that now." she shrugged out a little laugh. "Yeah, it's so twisted - I've had a fantasy about having a normal intimacy with Mulder some day. Maybe even having a child together, when the time was right, and of our own choice. Hmphh." she turned to look at nothing. "Now our relationship has changed forever. And I don't know how I'm going to face that." A sigh wrenched from deep within. "I think that is going to hurt more, you know?" she sniffled. He knew too well. "Despite what you say of your non-intimacy, I believe you care deeply for one another, beyond a professional partnership. I understand your unspoken desire but I believe you have restrained yourselves, out of professionalism and unblemished mutual respect." That seemed to soothe Dana and she nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "How do you feel about loosing the baby?" he gently asked. She returned her blue eyes to his, they swam in tears and her voice wavered. "It was part of us. We never had the usual relations that make a baby, but it was our baby. It was a baby boy, you know. A little boy," she rambled and plucked at the blanket. "That's a big one - losing our little boy... Dr. Fielding, how am I going to face Mulder again? I need to know he's alright, but I don't think - I can't bear to look into his eyes." "You will be able to Dana, you need to." He took her hands in his. "You'll be saving each other's hides yet again, only at the same time. Don't shut him out." It wasn't first thing in the morning, but Mulder had just come through the other side of a very long night. He was resolved to see Scully today. His evening with Walter the Confessor had helped him immensely. He knew now that Skinner had been the perfect sounding board. It may have been due the man's usual role as his superior officer - he demanded to be heard. It was partly the man's gruff, businesslike nature - it prevented maudlin tangents. Skinner had sprung Mulder from the chains of guilt that normally ruled his emotions. Shame had been intercepted when Skinner drove home the reality: "Mulder, you did not do this to her." I did not do this to her - it became his mantra as he headed down the hall. I did not - Nurses were bustling in and out of her room, something about changing her bedding and a sitz bath. While waiting, he caught sight of Dr. Logan coming out of room 45. He hadn't seen her since the day they told Scully and wondered if he was still the bad guy in her books. "How is she doing today doctor?" Mulder asked with some trepidation. Jill Logan avoided meeting his dark eyes. "Uh, just a little vaginal bleeding today, nothing unexpected." She forgot she was not speaking to a husband and mumbled an apology. "Agent Mulder, may we have a word in private?" They found a window at the end of the hall and made their way to its isolation. "Agent Mulder, I want to assure you that Dana will be fine physically, her uterus was not damaged and there was no tearing. All is healing normally, internally, but you must appreciate how severely traumatized she is. She's asking for some radical treatment to prevent this from ever happening again." Mulder looked somewhat puzzled. "I'm just telling you, in case you can dissuade her. Um, I don't know what your relationship is or where it's headed - " she waved her hands about, trying to shake the doubt. " - Please tell me again that this baby was not conceived in the usual manner?" The words and their sincerity were immediate. "I *did not* do this to her." "You know, I still can't imagine why anyone would -- . Do you two have many enemies?" Logan shook her head, not waiting for an answer. She flipped the pages of Scully's chart. "Uh, it's impossible to pinpoint the exact date of conception, as Dana can't recall when she had her last menstrual cycle before she was abducted." She didn't notice Mulder's embarrassment. "God, I'm still stunned by this, but I believe that you and Dana are telling the truth. Dana will be in therapy for the foreseeable future and I'd strongly recommend counseling for both of you - together. In any case, I'll have this report in to your people soon, when we get a couple of more tests run." It suddenly occurred to Mulder that they were now speaking of this nightmare as a case. "Will there be an investigation by local authorities as well?" she asked. "The crime of abduction, of forced impregnation? Will the fetus need to be retained for evidence?" Mulder's eyes burned. He coughed and sputtered "It should be reported, yes but I'll deal with that on paper." He couldn't bear the thought of Scully suffering through questioning. " Dr. Logan, I've investigated the abduction to the best of my ability and have not made any breakthroughs. Your post-abduction treatment and the miscarriage will be documented. Did you determine the cause of it?" Jill Logan was now clearing her throat and conscience. "Due to the urgency of countering the poisons in her system and keeping her alive, I made the grave error of not doing a pregnancy test or ultrasound after she came out of the coma. These tests are usual after a female abductee is found, but I didn't think of them. The anti-depressants and blood medications were imperative to her health. The combination of drugs and stress likely caused the death of the fetus - and for that, I feel culpable and deeply sorry." She hung her head. Mulder now found himself consoling her. "You did not do this to her either." She nodded, then looked carefully at him. "So what are we left with? No identifiable perpetrators, no knowledge of when and how your sperm was collected. There was no suspicion of pregnancy, though I'm really ashamed at having missed the symptoms. And I took unorthodox means of determining paternity..." her voice faded away. "Yes, what *are* we left with?" Mulder concurred. "Mr. Mulder, I can't predict how she will take to seeing you now, you know her better than anyone..." He was somewhat startled by her perception. "...but it's very important for the two of you to make your peace and mourn together. There is the option of a memorial service which some couples desire - for closure. But you're not exactly a typical couple..." "I 'm going to her now, I won't run off again. I'll raise this with her, she's Catholic and will want - what you said. I just worry how this is going to affect our friendship and I'm afraid of that loss even more." Funny thought Dr. Logan, that was also Dana's worst fear, according to Fielding's report. They proceeded slowly down the hall. Returning her attention to Mulder's state of mind, Logan spoke "I can't imagine how this must be affecting you. Don't lock your own pain away. I do know the fierce protection you feel for Dana. You didn't let her down, and you need each other's friendship more than ever." They stood outside room 45. "Can I ask you one more question doctor? Why did you think to run my DNA to check paternity?" She squinted and knitted her brows. She shook her head a little and shot him a quizzical look. how dense can the man be? Her pager beeped and she glanced down for the call. Before dashing away, she asked "Agent Mulder, are you always the last to know?" VI. The Conversation Mulder repeated her words silently. The last to know - what? More conspiracy. He suspected just where that rumor originated. Suppressing a smile, he turned and faced the door. It opened from the inside and there she stood. Mrs. Scully's sympathetic eyes locked onto his anxious ones and she reached up to embrace him. He sighed in relief. Margaret Scully was truly the epitome of a mother's kindness. "No guilt, okay Fox? You still have each other and she really needs you. You were both hurt by this. No guilt and no pressure." "Okay" came his meek reply. She released him and gave his arm a squeeze. "I'll see you later. You'll be here?" "I'm not going anywhere, unless Dana asks me to leave." "She won't, she just doesn't know it yet." There's that cryptic stuff again. he mused. Dana witnessed the warm greeting that her mother had accorded Mulder. As rampaging hormones dictated her mood however, she had no emotion to share with him. Despite her promise to Fielding to 'work it out', shame and fear and loss had boxed her in. Her mother was familiar with part of the pattern of grief over losing a child, yet Dana had not wanted to hear it. It went so much deeper than that. Her mom could never begin to fathom how invasive this was. Anyway, my mind is made up. Fox Mulder made his way into the dim room. He hadn't seen her since he'd bolted, and apparently, he wasn't going to see her now. She'd lain down, her back turned to him. "Scully, we have a lot to talk about. I'm sorry I left you the other day. They would have kicked me out anyway." Dana pulled the covers tighter. "I'm tired now Mulder. I get these nap attacks, you know? I've just got to go with them." "Okay, I'll just sit here, you sleep." "Go home Mulder, I don't want to talk." He seethed at her unfair dismissal. "No, Scully we *have* get through this. Look, I had *no say* - *no control* over what happened." Dana's eyes shot open, it wasn't the whipped puppy response she'd expected from him. He continued his defense. "I feel violated that this was my seed that was stolen from me, it was *not* of my doing!" Dana turned to face him, wincing at the sudden twist of her abdomen. "*I* was the one who didn't know I was carrying a child, only to loose it!" she exploded. "Yours isn't a physical pain! You didn't have a deciding role in my pregnancy and you sure as hell won't have any say in my choice of what to do about it." "Scully, you're right about not knowing the physical trauma, but you are *so wrong* in how you think this affects me." he crackled. "I'm going to tell you now how I feel Dana, whether you want to hear it or not." His eyes were dancing with an eerie mix of anger and passion. She was almost afraid of him in that moment. Afraid she would be unable to respond to whatever he was about to confess. Oh Dear God, he's going to leave me. He calmed his breathing when he saw he had her attention. Beads of sweat dotted his brow and his legs felt wobbly. "I have to sit down," he mumbled, taking the bedside chair. "Dana, there is no one in this world I trust more than you." Safe territory, she already knew that. "Your friendship is the most important thing in the world to me." His throat felt so dry. "I would have given my life to stop them from taking you." "Mulder, don't - " "Don't?" he snuffled. "I think I've suppressed this long enough, hell, it seems everybody knows but me! Laugh's on them though, I think I've known it all along." No hesitation now. "I need you Dana, I love you. Please don't turn me away." Her breaths came in puffs and tiny whimpers. Palpitations were threatening to black her out. She closed her eyes and flopped her head back down on the pillows. She panted and swallowed to calm the whirling in her head. Mulder gawked, was she having a heart attack? He poured water and placed the glass to her lips, she eagerly sipped and it dribbled down her chin. He snatched a face cloth from the tray and gently dabbed the droplets. Here he had just exposed the deepest part of his soul and it was killing her! She read his face, having memorized the automatic remorse in his beautiful eyes. She smiled a secret smile and closed her own eyes until her breathing was restored. Mulder pursed his lips. God Almighty, now I've bored her to death, she's sleeping! She opened the blue gems again, revealing such a peace as he had never seen. Her lips wore a that same small smile. Her tremored hands reached up to his, where they lay on her hair. "Oh Mulder..." Here it comes - rejection "I love you so much. Always have." He could only gasp in awe. He stroked her soft strawberry hair. She kissed his sweaty hand. Neither of them saw the stealthy pair of eyes at the door. Mazotti stole away up to the nurses' station. "Quick, get me the chart. Okay, who said the afternoon of Dec. 23?" "Here it is ...yes! People, we have a winner! The pot goes to ... Peter!" "Awright, pay up!" High fives abounded. "They actually kissed? Did you see it? About time - ain't love grand!" "No fair, you're in cahoots with mother Margaret!" The partners came up for air. Their first kiss, tentative and tender. Just how they'd always fantasized it. "You know, even a slight touch from you can set my head swimming." Mulder avowed. "I might need a hospital bed myself now. Did it just get very hot in here?" Dana lay back on the pillow and licked her lips where his warm ones had just been. Fox swallowed hard. "How far will the shadow consortium go in trying to wrench us apart next time?" Dana's voice faded into a whisper. "Because they will try again - I just know it." He hated to leave their newfound bliss, but he had come here to talk. "What happened to you - to us, I agree was the work of human monsters. They meant this to destroy us, Scully! But we're stronger than that. What we *have* is stronger than that, it has to be! We can't let them win this way, by using us, our children, now or in the future. We can't." "Well they won't win." Scully jutted out her chin. "Because I've decided to have a hysterectomy." This was what Logan was warning him about. "No, you can't mean that? Please - ?" "Mulder, someday, they may take me again - impregnate me again, this time with something horrific. I won't let that happen. I'll defy them by being barren, unable to bear a child - ever." His voice imitated the ruthlessness of her abductors. "And if they find no use for your body as a breeding ground, what then? Would they merely dispose of you?" He then took a desperate tone, "Dana, please don't do this. Don't give into them. Don't forego your natural rights out of fear." Her decision had been so easy, before their admission of love. She had been determined to go through with it, but in the light of day, her rationale sounded paranoid. She had stubbornly contradicted Dr. Logan, agreeing only to think about it. She had held no intentions of discussing it with her mother, and least of all Mulder. This was during the height of her loathing. Now there was hope. He was right. It would mean victory for 'them'. Mulder laced his long fingers in hers. "This baby - our baby gave us a great gift. He forced the issue - he made us to open up to each other. Sometimes, you know, on a stake out - I'd watch you sleep, and I'd stare into the night wondering about the future." Mulder caught her lowered chin with the crook of his finger. "Stay with me Scully, I'm doing my best sensitive-guy thing here!" She smiled warmly and he continued, "I've held on to a dream of someday having a future with you. A future with children... The baby we just lost was a little messenger." He cradled her in his arms and continued in warm tones. "They didn't just use our genes, they stole our dreams." She replied in kind, by kissing his fingers. "We've both lost so much time." Mulder spoke slowly "They were playing God, Dana and nobody has the right to do that. The deed gave our enemies a lot of power, but we've just become more powerful. They didn't succeed after all. The baby didn't tear us apart - " "William." "Huh?" "I named him William." she gave a small shudder and he tightened his embrace. "William was a special little soul." Mulder gurgled back a tear. "Our little boy. I never knew I could feel this kind of pain. We're sorry we lost him, and we'll always love him." "He needs a name and a Christian burial." "I'll arrange it. Your mother will be pleased." Epilogue: A Proper Christian Burial Hospital Chapel "We gather here today to mourn the loss of an innocent, who was taken too soon." The priest intoned the memorial from the prepared text for 'loss miscarriage'. It wasn't necessary for him to know the unusual circumstances of this sad event. A premature death was traumatic whatever the cause. His role was to give comfort to those left behind. "We grieve for the parents, Dana Scully and Fox Mulder, the grandparents, aunts and uncles, the friends. Because the infant, William Scully-Mulder is safe in God's hands. He was a special angel and he was loved. Let us pray." Dana swayed and Mulder drew her closer. Margaret held her daughter's hand and Melissa bowed her head, lost in incantations of her own. Mulder turned his head to the rear of the small chapel and noticed Jill Logan enter to sit alongside Dr. Fielding. Across the aisle from the doctors sat Walter Skinner. The Friends in this sorrowful tableau. Mulder felt numb. Then Dana shivered and he cradled her head, vowing to remain strong for her. She closed her eyes and fingered the filigree chain of her cross. When the pain threatened, they would support each other. When it became unbearable, they would connect with their family and friends. They knew the cycle of grief. A sister, a father, a child... This little baby, this messenger - had performed a minor miracle. He had permeated the barriers of fear and doubt. So much pain had preceded this moment, but for the very first time, Fox Mulder no longer felt alone. The sun glistened through the stained glass image of a child walking hand in hand with the Father. -fin- Thank you kindly for reading this tale - Jan, the Right Brain Kid RIGHT BRAIN Creative Services "For the best ideas in the hemisphere"
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