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Title: The Mouths of Babes Summary: A foray into the future and some deep suspense. This is meant to be a semi-romantic tear jerker, so be warned about that, too. Author's note: This story does involve a bomb, so if you are tender on that subject, please be warned. In light of Oklahoma, I don't want to offend or hurt anyone. You are hereby warned.
> "Hey, Sam, wait up!" Sam whirled, his backpack bouncing on his shoulder. He watched Mikal run to catch up with him. "You walk too fast!" the shorter boy scowled. Sam just shrugged. People told him he had his father's genes; at twelve he was already a head taller than most of his classmates. He guessed they were right, he was always being compared to his father, his jaw, his nose, his slim build. And then they'd look at his short-cropped red hair and wonder where he got it. He never minded. His father had taught him long ago to ignore unkind comments and accept those that might be compliments. Besides, who wouldn't want to be compared to his father? "Sam!" Mikal shook his arm. "Wake up." "Sorry." "So...'ya do your homework?" He began to load books from his locker to his bag. "Most of it." The bell rang, and he followed Mikal into the classroom. His history teacher handed out papers. He took one, sat at his desk, skimmed it. *No, please no...* The paper read "Mr. Fike's eighth grade semester project: Family History report." Ouch. "Uh, Mr. Fike?" he stood in front of the desk at lunchtime, shuffling his feet. "Yes, Sam?" "I...I was wondering, about the family history report." He took a deep breath, and felt his face redden. "IwasthinkingmaybeIcoulddosomethingelsebecauseI'madopted wellsortofand-" "Hold on, hold on. You want to do a different report?" "Yes...maybe a book report or something." "Because...?" "A lot of reasons...mainly because I'm adopted, uh, kind of..." Fike took a binder from the bookshelf behind him. "I have the school records of every student in my classroom in this." He flipped through to about the middle. "Funny, Sam, it doesn't mention an adoption in your file." "Sir...I mean, he *is* my dad, but he had to sort of find me... It's a long story. And my mom." He pointed to a blank space on the page. "I don't want to stir anything up, particularly with the delicate jobs they both held." "I do understand, Sam. Please let me think about it. I'll let you know in class tomorrow." "Thanks." He picked up his lunch and headed towards the cafeteria. Fike shut the door and walked to the business office to borrow a phone. "Hello, may I speak to the assistant director, please?" "He *is* rather busy right now." The voice on the other end commented snidely. "Do you have an appointment?" "Please, this is important. It's about his son." He could almost hear the wheels turning in the secretary's head. "Very well." She finally said. "I'll route you through." There was a transfer click, and a hoarse voice. "Hello?" "Sir, my name is John Fike, I'm a history teacher at your son's school-" "Sam? Is he all right?" there was instant fear in the man's voice. "Yes, he's fine. I was just calling to confirm something he told me today." "We don't own a dog, if that's his excuse." The voice relaxed slightly. "No, actually it's about a project I'm assigning. He seems reluctant to do it." "How so?" "It's a family research project, and he's asked that he take another assignment." "Ah." A pause. "He tell you why?" "I was hoping you could fill in the gaps for me." "I understand. It's not something I'd like to discuss over the phone, however. Perhaps when I come to pick him up today, we could meet. Are you free?" "I believe so, yes. Three o'clock?" "Perfect." "Thank you, sir." "You're welcome." The assistant director emerged from his inner office. "Gentlemen, ladies, I'm afraid I'm going to have to miss this meeting. Proceed without me, if you would." Ignoring the odd looks he received, he picked up his coat and headed for the door. Sam looked up as the final bell rang. He shoved his books into his pack and followed the other students out the door into the hall. A dark-suited man stood just to the side of it. He grinned. "Dad! I thought you had a meeting today." His dad smiled down at him. "It was cancelled. Your teacher wanted to talk to me." "Mr. Fike?" "Yup." "You gonna tell him the truth?" "You know I always try to do that. Could you wait in the car?" "Sure. You be okay?" "I'll be fine, Sam. It shouldn't take too long." John Fike shooed the last stragglers out of his classroom as the tall man approached. They took one look at his guest and almost ran. He exchanged pleasantries, how was Sam doing, was he paying attention, and then Fike shut the door. The tall man ran a hand through his hair. "I assume Sam told you...he was adopted," he began. "He did, but there's nothing in his school records about it." "There wouldn't be. It gets complicated." He began to pace. "Eight years ago, I was still an active agent in the Bureau. No, it goes further than that. My partner and I investigated...special cases. Please don't ask more than that." Fike nodded. He continued. "Back in 94 my partner was-she disappeared for a matter of months. She was found in the hospital, in a coma, which she eventually emerged from." He allowed himself a smile. "We didn't think much more about it; I'm not permitted to tell you why, but we had our reasons. At any rate, we continued our work, until around spring of 1998." "And you then stopped?" He snorted. "That's one way to put it. I'd worked late that night. She'd gone home, complaining of fatigue. The next morning-" he swallowed, winced slightly, and closed his eyes. "She didn't come to work, didn't call in. I went to her apartment to investigate and...she was gone. Again. I found Sam sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket." "And he *is* your son?" "Yes-he is. You must understand, we-my partner and I-never had that sort of relationship. The general report filed by the bureau was that she was artificially inseminated when she was abducted the first time." "By who?" "I can't tell you that. I wish I knew myself. But the blood tests do show that Sam is my son." "I'm not sure if I can believe this, given the lack of evidence, records-" "You have to." He leaned on the desk until his knuckles when white. "You don't know what you're getting into. I lost a partner and a friend that day. I love Sam, I really do. But I don't want to entangle you or him in this. I refuse to endanger his life any more than it already is." "Does he know about all this?" Fike asked quietly. "He does. I wish to god he didn't, but he does. I'm not talking legal action if you know what I know, Mr. Fike. I'm talking government-hired assassins." He walked to the door. "And if a man named Krycek comes to your door, do us both a favor and blow his brains out." This was frightening him. "What did he do?" "He abetted in the abduction of my partner, he almost shot me twice, he worked as a spy for the higher-ups. Before I took the Assistant Director's job, he almost got my little boy." "And now?" "He wouldn't dare. I hope." And he was gone. "How was it?" "Hard. I hope he understands." "Did you tell him about mom?" "Yeah, I did." Silence. "You're going to find her, dad." "I wish." "Me too." More silence. "You want to, don't you?" "More than you could know." "Then you will." *Twelve-year-old wisdom. I was twelve once...* "One day Sam, I'll find them both." "I love you, dad." "I love you too." "Y'know, dad, I was thinking." Sam sipped his soda, watched his father bite into his hamburger. "Maybe this report wouldn't be such a bad idea. Maybe I could find something everyone missed." His father watched him with dark eyes. "Maybe you could, Sam. But I doubt it. I looked for *years* after she was taken. Even after I became the director and had access to classified information, I never found anything." "Nothing?" "Nothing." He picked up a French fry. "Maybe I could talk to grandma." "I haven't seen your grandma in a long time. You want to go up there this weekend?" "That would be fun." "Sam!" The grey haired woman ran down the steps, hugging him. He hugged back. Then he felt her tense. "Fox. It's good to see you." "You too, Margaret." He smiled wanly at her. Then she hugged him too, patting his back. "I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you." "Not much, grandma." Sam followed her up the steps to the house. His father stood outside for a minute, and then also came in. "How's aunt Melissa?" "She's fine. You've got another cousin on the way." Margaret poured him a glass of milk. "She said to say hello." His father suddenly seemed to blend in, to melt into the background like he always did. This was Scully domain, and he knew it. He didn't mind being here, but the scars were still only thinly closed. He took a seat in the corner. "So anyway, I just signed up for this really neat class..." Sam's voice oozed excitement as he told her all the happenings of his eighth-grade life. She listened raptly. *I'm so sorry, Margaret.* he wanted to scream. He had no right to be here. None at all. Not even as Sam's father. But they had accepted him anyway, helped him during those first hard months when he was alone and Sam was hanging between his father and a well-meaning foster home. He had lost their daughter, their sister, and they had still loved him. Still loved Sam. "Fox." She was looking at him. Sam had excused himself to go to the bathroom. "Fox, it's okay. We don't blame you." "We've been over this, Margaret. I know you don't. But I do." She nodded. "I hope someday you realize how hard you hurt yourself. Sam's getting so big!" she changed the subject. "He's going to be tall." "He's going to be happy." He said it as more of a promise to himself. "He's not going to ever have it like we have." "Afternoon, Kris!" Sam called, his visitor's badge clipped to his jacket. The secretary smiled. "School out early?" "Yup. Dad in?" "He's got some council hearing he has to go to." "Okay. I'll be in the office." "Don't get in trouble." "Trouble? With all those toys dad has? He's got a TV and a computer. What more could I want?" "Just don't mess up his files." He stuck his tongue out at her and saw her smile again. Opening the heavy door, he walked through the outer office to the inner one and hit the electronic keypad on the desk. A computer sat on it, and he hit the code to switch it on. He hoped his dad wouldn't get back soon. "Now, if I were dad, where would I put mom's file?" NEWSGROUP:Lost persons help Subj:Help needed From: SamKid Hi. My name is Samuel, and I need help finding someone. I have attached to this posting a digitally scanned photograph of the woman I am looking for. She stands five foot one and has red hair and blue eyes. She was last seen eight years ago in Washington DC. Her name is Dana Katherine Scully. Please help me find her. If you have any information on her, please email me at SamKid@fednet.homenet.dc Thank you. "Ah, computers. Dad, I hope you appreciate this." "Hey, Joanna, come and see this!" "Emily, have you been signing on to your fanfiction club again?" "I was looking in the lost persons newsgroup, and look what I found!" Emily waved to her companion. "You've been told not to use the hospital computer for personal reasons." Joanna looked up, tossed her hair, and went to read the message anyway. "This is from some kid. Give me a break." "No, look at the photo..." "Jesus, Emily." "Now, who does that remind you of?" "Kris, is Sam around?" The tall man stood by his secretary's desk. "Nope, he said he was going home. It's been two weeks since you talked to his teacher, and he seems depressed, sir. Is something wrong?" "Just some memories. He's having a rough time at school. I'll be in my office. Can you send in the agents from Surveillance when they get here?" "Yes sir." He entered his office, seating himself behind the smooth desk that he'd seen Skinner sit at so many times. He wondered idly whether he was still dean at that college on the west coast. Not that he cared, much, either way. "YES!" "Sam?" "Nothing, dad. Just got a message from my penpal." "Why do you call him a penpal? You never actually use a pen to write to each other. I swear, this is the age of the computer letter." "Whatever, dad." Sam sat back, opened the first email letter. Subj: RE:lost Dana From:114@bnet.edu.ca.com To:SamKid@fednet.homenet.com No, that one was just a helpful tip about asking around hospitals. Subj: I can help! From:Finder@fulnet.au.com Australia? He didn't think so. Subj:Missing person From:Eminurse Well, this was interesting. To SamKid. I think I may know who you are looking for. I found the photograph and it matches one of the staff at our medical facility here. May I ask for more details on this person? Emily *Oh, please...* "Joanna, I got a reply!" "Well, what did it way?" Joanna's voice shook nervously. "It says she was abducted or disappeared in 1998. She was an FBI agent with a background in medicine." "So why does he want to find her?" it was easier to refer to this situation as if it weren't her. "She's his mother. I'm writing back." "You think it coud be...?" "You never know, Jo, you just never know." Joanna Ulter sat down in the nurses' lounge. She thought she'd put her past behind her, that whatever it was, she'd laid the demons to rest. She still had dreams, about killing people and a man looking for the truth, but she was so used to them she didn't even bother to mention them anymore. She was going to become a doctor, and she was going to have a happy life. She was not going to let this get to her. When she had awoken in this hospital three years before, it was to a blank slate. She had to learn how to talk, how to walk, how to eat, all over again. She was proud of how far she'd come. And then, the hypnosis therapy, the half-successful memory retrieval. She had moments, sometimes, when she remembered little things. She had known enough about medicine that the nurses had encouraged her to take an equivalence exam, and study for more. She had found a job and friends, and a new life. But nothing she had remembered had been useful in finding out who she was. She wasn't sure she wanted to. Her last name, the one she was told she'd mumbled when she woke up, was the only small tie she had. The therapist had told her she had probably been married, and abused. She had evidence that she'd given birth once, but also of severe injuries, severe enough that sometimes even she herself wondered. And she was a natural with a gun. So who was this boy who was looking for her? And if his father was an abusive man, then did she have the right to deny this child a mother? She didn't know. She didn't want to know, wanted to put it all behind her. But she couldn't. This Samuel had a mother, and if it was her she deserved to know it. "Emily, can I use the computer?" Subj:Hi, Joanna To:Eminurse From:SamKid Hello, Joanna. Do you think you could send me a picture of you? And where do you live? You asked me for some details about Dana Scully so I will tell you. She would be thirty-eight now. She was a pathologist and a doctor. She used to patch up my dad a lot. She is very pretty as you can tell from the picture. I don't know much about her, because I was only four when she was taken and my dad won't talk about her a lot. You asked if she and my dad were married, and if he hit her. He said he never hurt her, but he was not married. It is a very long story, and I'd like to meet you first, in case you are not the person I am looking for. I didn't tell him I am looking for her so I had to be sneaky. Please do send me a picture if you can. I hope to hear from you soon. Sam Subj:Re:Hi, Joanna To:SamKid From:Eminurse Samuel, How old are you? I was in an accident of some sort three years ago, and I lost all my memory. What I do remember is some medical training I had. I'm sending you a current photo of me. You live in Washington DC, and that makes visiting a problem. I'm working in Dallas, Texas. I can't afford to fly there, and I don't get much vacation time. I'm about thirty eight, but I was found three years ago, and you said Dana Scully disappeared eight years ago. So I don't know if I'm the woman you are looking for. I hope we can arrange something to find out. Jo Subj: No problem! To:Eminurse From:SamKid Joanna, I can come to you! I have spring break in a week and I can come down and visit. I can afford a plane ticket because I have been saving up my money for a while. So when would you like to meet? I have looked at your picture and run it through the FBI computer. It says you could be her. So I will fly to Dallas sometime soon and we could meet. I was wondering if you have ever been fingerprinted? Could you send me records? I can compare them. Talk to you soon. Sam He sat and opened the file. It was titled "PRINT.gfx.". He was running it through the computer on his dad's desk when his dad came in. "Sam, are you doing homework?" *Close the file, save, do later...* "Yes, dad." "Good." He ruffled his son's hair. "You know I'm not even supposed to let you in the building." "Kris doesn't care. I don't bother anyone." "And I miss you when you're not around." He picked him out of the chair and sat down, settling the boy on his lap. "I wish your mother could see you." he muttered sadly. *She might, dad, she might.* "Me too. Say dad, what are we doing for spring break?" "I figured I'd take you camping for about half the week. Why?" "Just wondering. Which half?" "Maybe Saturday to Tuesday. Do you have something in mind?" "Naw." He smiled to himself. *Just a little surprise.* ~ *~*~*_ "Hey Tio, you get the same stuff I just got?" "Sure did, Alex. May be your only chance to get the guy. Without that kid, he's nothing. But that kid can't find the woman. If he does..." "I know. I want you to wire the plane. Make sure nothing gets in or out but what I say so." "Can do. You gonna do it personally?" "I think I'll just play terrorist. I want you on that plane with him. Use the remote to filter the messages." "I'm gonna have fun with this." Tio shook his dark hair and smiled. "Kid's twelve. How much trouble can he be?" "Never underestimate a Mulder. Just get our...which team is down that way? Delta team?" "Got it." Tio plugged in his computer line. In his years after the abduction, he'd learned many things. Patience. Coolness. People up the ladder were more inclined to trust you if you didn't bat an eye at the horrible things you saw, you heard, you caused. They trusted him as one of them now, maybe they would tell him someday... It was a living hell. But for Sam, for Sam he would do anything. For Sam he had become the assistant director, had screwed up god knew how many lives, had hid the truth. He would not let his little boy live in fear. So he had learned control, discretion, how to cut off all emotion about anything unpleasant. And the minute he read the note all his carefully built walls and all his precarious control came crashing down. Dad- I've gone to get mom. I'll call you later. Love you, Sam He swung around, picked up the phone. "Frohike, if you've ever done anything right, pick up the goddamned phone." "Frohike." "Frohike, it's Mulder. I need your help." "What's wrong?" the man instantly caught the fear in his voice. "It's Sam. He's gone, and I don't know where he went." "Just gone?" "He left a note saying...he's going to go get Scully." "He say where?" "No. Frohike, what do I do?" His voice rose hysterically. "Any unusual calls on your phone bill?" Frohike motioned to Merlin to pick up the other phone. "Calm down and think straight." "None. Wait, his email..." he trailed off and leaned over the computer. "I can check it from here. Good lord." "What?" "The last five messages are either to or from some person...Eminurse. Here, an attached file...Oh, god. It's a fingerprint. He must have run a check on this." "You think it's real?" "Given the chances...It *must* be some sort of plot. Maybe Krycek." His voice almost cracked. "Can you trace it from there?" "Yeah...Dallas. God lord, why in the hell Dallas?" "I'll check it out. Get the airport officials on a teleconference and kick some butt, Mulder. Get them to shut down the outgoing flights." "Thanks, Frohike." He turned, hung up the phone. Dial the port number. Get the officials on the screen. "This is Assistant Director Fox Mulder with the FBI. I've got a possible crime suspect and I need you to shut down all outgoing flights to Dallas. When did the last one leave?" "I'm on it, sir. Last one left...twenty minutes ago." "Can you get me a passenger list?" "Sending it now." Silently Mulder thanked whatever gods had invented the computer. The list appeared in a window on his screen. "Oh, *_shit_*!" The tenth passenger on the list was Samuel Dana Scully-Mulder. The last one was Tio Moore. He was one of Alex Krycek's many alternates. Their seats were reserved right next to each other. Sam sat back, enjoying the takeoff. Unlike his father, he had no problem with flying, or motion sickness. He put on his headphones and took out a handheld game player. "Hey, I used to play those!" the man in the seat next to him leaned over. He looked nice enough, with a shock of dark hair and a pleasant face. "You like it?" "Sure. What game are you playing?" "Super Weario Brothers nineteen." "That's a new one. Is it any good?" "Yup." The man seemed to have lost interest and leaned back. He went back to his game. *Stomp the goombas, flame the bob-ombs!* and he was on his way to find his mom. His dad would be happy and he wouldn't have to worry anymore. "Sir..." "Dammit, this is my son. I need the copter. How fast can we get there? I swear if that man gets his hands on Sam I will personally torture everyone who tries to stop me." His personal force was strong enough to repel the pilot back into the wall. "Yes sir. We can beat it there if we...we'd have to go to the hospital, the port's too crowded." "Then do it! I've got to get there before Sam does." He climbed into the FBI helicopter and buckled himself in. *Good god, Sam, why did you have to go alone? You could have taken me with you. You could have told me.* why did he have to be so much like his mother, so goddamned stubborn? *And just who was always running off and leaving everyone behind?* Shut up. *He's just like you, Mulder.* Stop it. *He's going to get himself killed, just like you almost did. Can you get there in time, like Dana did?* Go to hell. I'll make it. *Are you sure?* Yes. I have to be. *What if it really is her?* It isn't. She's not coming back. I taught myself that a long time ago. *About the same time you admitted you cared for her?* Why do you care? *Because you do.* About her. About Samuel. About Samantha. *You've lost every person you _ever_ cared about.* It's not too late for Samuel. *You'd better pray to god not.* His hand clenched around a small gold necklace that hung under his shirt. A sparkling chain, and a little gold cross. The one he'd found around Sam's neck that horrible morning. Lost in thought, he finally realized they'd landed on the hospital roof. He jumped out, met up with the man he'd contacted on the way there. "Sir, we can't raise the plane! Everything has interference! The only thing that's making it through to the pilot is the landing instructions!" "Keep trying. I'm going down there." He ran to the elevator. Punch the ground floor button, pray to god that Sam would be okay. By the time he'd reached the bottom floor he had regained some level of composure. He calmly approached the main desk. He held up his badge. "My name is Fox Mulder, I'm with the FBI. Can you tell me the floor an Emily Kincaid works on?" The woman's eyes widened, but she complied. "Third floor." "Thank you." Back into the elevator. Third floor. "Excuse me, could you direct me to an Emily Kincaid, please?" he asked the woman behind the counter. "That would be me." She responded, eyeing him suspiciously. "I'm Fox Mulder, I'm with the Federal Bureau of Investigations. I'd like to inquire about a boy you've been corresponding with through email. A Samuel Scully-Mulder?" She leaned back in shock. "I...my friend has been using my sign on name. She's the one you'd want to talk to..." Joanne watched the dark-suited man approach the counter from the shadows. She heard the conversation. This must be him, Samuel's father. She examined him, feeling something flashing in her mind. He was tall, dressed soberly. His dark hair was a little longer than the last time she'd seen him(What?) and it was grey at the temples. He had a short-clipped beard on his chin, she didn't think he'd had one before(before what?) His once smooth face(how did she know that?) was lined with worry. He stood awkwardly, and looked more than a little afraid. Dark hazel eyes darted nervously over every detail of the room, skipping over the shadows. *His name is Fox...Mulder. Fox Mulder... Ulter...Multer...Mulder...* "So you're the one." Emily said. "The what." "The one who beat Joanne." "Joanne?" his eyebrows went up. "I don't know any Joanne." "Maybe you called her something different." Emily's voice rose accusingly. "It didn't matter when you beat her and abandoned her, did it? Didn't matter when you left her without any memories? Her therapist said you must have beat her so bad she'd been willfully blocking it..." "I'll handle this, Em." She stepped out of the shadows. His face froze in shock. "Oh my god...Scully." "Who are you?" "I'm Mulder." He stepped closer to her. She stepped back. One hand extended in her direction. "Dana..." he choked off. Sam was forgotten for a moment, as he lost himself in those wonderful blue eyes, the ones he'd never expected to see again. It had to be her. Even with her red hair bound into a French braid and a ponytail hanging down her back, she was unmistakable. She watched him warily. Dear god, she thought he'd beaten her. *I'd never hurt you, never in a million years-* She took his arm suddenly, steered him into an empty room. "Please tell me." She whispered. "Do you know me?" *I know you, oh yes.* "I do." "Who am I?" "You're Scully. Dana Scully, my partner." She sat on the bed, in shock herself. "Tell me about myself." "You...you were twenty five when you came to work with me. They sent you as a spy. You were a medical doctor, and an FBI agent. A damned good one. In 1994 you were taken...they took you from me..." "Who?" "Them. Please...you don't remember?" "Only small flashes. Tell me more, please." "Anything. We knew each other inside out. You never believed me when I came up with a wild theory." A flash-You'll pursue a case to the point of insanity and expect me to follow. Telekinesis? Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials? "We...you were so much more than a spy. After a few months, you started validating my work, saying it wasn't just fraud. And then...when they took you." His hand flew to the necklace at his throat, removing the chain. "Duane Barry took you. They left this."*Remember this?* "I...that's my necklace." Do you know what this means? Only one man has successfully faked his own death...Elvis. You really do watch the learning channel. "YES! He left it behind. And you came back. Scully, you have to remember. We were best friends. We knew each other better than we knew ourselves. You touched things in me I never knew existed." "And Samuel?" "You were artificially inseminated. I don't know how...we never..." Flashes coming quickly, a million memories flooding back, as if every word he said took a rock off the mental dam she'd built up. "Oh god, I can remember..." horrible memories, deaths and killings and the Truth. He reached out to her, brushed hair off her forehead. She remembered that, too, and something to do with chicken, for some reason. She leaned into his arms, shaking. "What did I do?" I saw David Copperfield make the statue of liberty disappear. I got a bad case of freezer burn. I feel better than you look. "Nothing. You did nothing. Nothing to deserve this." Feeling him hold her, she remembered a man named Pfaster... Hard to tell the villains without a scorecard. Who are the men in the funny suits? Do you believe in the afterlife, Scully? *SCULLY.* "Oh good lord...the memories-" Why didn't you tell me it was her, Mulder? Because you wouldn't have let me go through with it. Entire scenes were coming now, revolving in her head. Every sense she had brought a new memory with it. You're the only person I'd put my life on the line for, Fox. I even make my parents call me Mulder...If that's ice tea, this could be love. Must be fate...root beer. "It's okay." He said it more to himself than to her. "I'm here." Margaret Scully woke from a daydream, and realized that she must have fallen asleep. She had had such a wonderful dream...Fox, standing between Dana and her dear Sam, a look of confusion on his face so comical she had laughed...but then the memory turned dark...he couldn't decide! He would look at Dana, her own baby girl, and then at Sam, her grandson-he stood perplexed, his face growing angry. "Dana. He's found her." *But will it cost him Samuel?* "Damn him to goddamned hell!" Krycek almost screamed. "That sneaking, goddamned sonofabitch!" He hadn't anticipated this. That damned man had taken the helicopter to the hospital. He was probably hauling HER back to DC right now! At least, he thought, he had the satisfaction of watching the entire fucking airport go up in fire when he pushed the button. Just the vision of that perky kid screaming, engulfed by flames, made him smile. Then he got the communiqué that made him frown. And the visitor that made him cower. At the same instant that Margaret Scully awoke and remembered her dream, Mulder pulled away from Dana/Joanne with a strangled cry. "Sam!" "Samantha?" she queried automatically, not even knowing who she was talking about. "No, Samuel! My son! He's coming. I thought, I thought you were just a plot so that they could...but the phone interference..."his mind reeled chaotically. "I have to get there." He rushed into the outer reception area, physically dragging the still dazed Scully. "I've got to get to the airport. His flight may be rigged." "I'm coming." She shot a glance at Emily. "Emily, please, understand...?" "Go, Joanne." They ran into the street, she still in a starched white nurses uniform. He hailed a taxi, not enough time to get the copter there and find a landing space. In the cab she closed her eyes. Every movement he made, everything he said brought back memories, a wealth of memories. I always figured I'd take a cruise when I got older, but this isn't what I'd imagined. I see four against one...I got a problem. It's a big bell with a big crack in it and you have to wait in a long line. You okay in there, Scully? Got a twenty dollar bill? Logically, I would have to say no. What do you know about gulf war syndrome? I'd say you people already suffer from full denial. It was one of them. She remembered a million small things, but she still didn't remember who she was as a person. She was Scully. He had defined her as his partner. But how did one define oneself? Knowing she was alive would have been enough. Seeing her safe and happy would have been close to heaven. But holding her, knowing she was safe and happy and she was remembering him was...nirvana. Eden. Eight years can change a man a lot. He saw her lean back in the seat and wondering what she was thinking. Surely those memories couldn't have been all awful-he'd lived them himself. Did she only remember the horrors they'd seen? He cursed himself quietly for bringing this down on her. But he had to get to Samuel. *Oh please, god, I never pray, but this once I need Sam to be all right.* She was watching him. "You...you never had a beard before." "I didn't." It seemed vital to her. "And your hair wasn't gray at the sides." "True." He allowed. "And you had fish in your apartment." "You remember." "And...there was a girl." "A what?" his eyes clouded. Who was she talking about? "Samantha. You were looking for her." "Oh...Samantha." "Did you find her?" her concern showed in her voice. She knew that was the one thing he wanted in life...or had wanted, in the life he'd had eight years ago. Who was the girl? "No." He turned away. "I found Samuel instead." "What does he look like?" "He...people say he looks like me. He's got the most wonderful red hair, just like yours. He's the smartest boy-" His next comment was cut off as the airport neared. He jumped out of the car, yanking her after him, not stopping to pay the tab. Hey, Krycek! Guess what? We're on to you! You should know better than to mess with the son of the A.D., Alex m'boy. He's a very good friend of ours. We'd be very angry if he were to be hurt in any way. So we took the precaution of stationing some local contacts at the airport. Now, if you were to hurt them, or Samuel, then we'd have to go public with some very important information we've collected on your operation. Sorry to have caused you any inconvenience. The Lone Gunmen ;^) "Damndamndamndamndamn." He swore violently. "My sentiments exactly." "You think they're bluffing?" "Only one way to find out." A puff of smoke. "But if they've got any info-" "I've covered my bases, Alex. What about you?" Sam switched the walkman off and buckled up his seatbelt for landing. The man next to him did the same. He felt he familiar sinking feeling as the plane descended, and then as it skidded to a stop. "You want some help with your bag?" Tio asked. "Sure." He watched as he leaned over the seat and took the backpack down. "Thanks, Mr. Tio." "My pleasure." Tio held back, wanting to make contact, let his boss know that he was staying on the plane until the port was securely afire. Sam followed the people in front of him down the aisle, turning to wave at Mr. Tio. He waved to the lady who held the airplane door. The long hallway lay before him. He clutched the twenty dollar bill in his hand, remembering that he had to ask where he could get a taxi. He took a deep breath and prepared to face the busy airport. *Hey, if dad could face down aliens and liver-eaters, I can get through a simple hallway.* bolstered by the thought, he resolutely marched up the ramp. He yanked her through mid-day crowds and past food vendors. He raced through the metal detector, madly waving his badge. The gate was just ahead, and he could see the first passengers disembark. Everyone seemed fine. No panic that may be associated with the death of a little kid- "SAM!" he yelled, racing down the hallway. Sam was trudging towards him. His head snapped up. "Dad?" "Samuel-" he snatched the boy and held him up. "If you ever do anything like this again I will...oh, baby Sam, how could you?" he hugged him so tight Sam thought his ribs were going to snap. "I thought they might try to take you away." "Nobody was after me, dad." He looked over his father's shoulder. "Dad, is that-" Krycek's finger hovered over the keypad. One little push, and his worries were over. Either that or they were just beginning. Could he risk blowing his cover? Could he risk them being reunited? Hundreds of deaths, possibly meaningless. He laughed. *Just like most of the deaths I've caused.* But they would die and then he would be in trouble. Big trouble. "Make the choice, Mr. Krycek." A whiff of sour cigarette smoke. "Shouldn't you have died by now?" he asked the old man irritated. "Shouldn't they have died by now?" the man returned pointedly. "If they die and the bastards aren't bluffing, I lose any chance I have to get full control." "So it's your choice. I don't really give a fuck." "Frohike, I think I got it." A female voice snapped into the bug. "Good." He returned. "Can you handle it?" "It's gonna cost you big time in the favors department." "Put it on Mulder's tab. He's got a list so high he'll never pay up anyway." "Hey, this is for the big M himself? Why dincha say so? I can have this baby clipped in no time." "Where is it?" "In the back of a flight TV monitor. You won't believe what I had to do to get here." "Just get it done. The flight is already unloading." "Righto." He could hear her pull out a pair of wirecutters. "Now if I just cut off the antenna it won't receive commands-but there's a chance it's got an autofiring mechanism. You want to take the chance?" "Why not take out the acid? That may control the blast some. And clip a few wires...what design is it?" the bearded man took the mic. "Damn, you're good, Merlin. Okay, if I take that out, and then cut the antenna-it's a B8 design. You got a diagram?" "Right here." He pulled out a file. "Once you've got that done, then get the antenna." "I'm on it." "Samuel, this is Dana." "My choice, huh?" The button "That's my mom?" "Almost there..."
The clippers A finger hit a button A clipper clicked shut A boy stared at a red-haired woman A gray-haired woman screamed in fear A man held his son and breathed slowly. "Yeah, Sam. I think so." "Nailed it!" "Yes!" Frohike yelled. "Sonofagun, Birdy!" "Awright!" Merlin set the mic down. "Mulder, you better appreciate that." "Any second now." Krycek held his breath and waited for the connection to be made to the airport. Waited for the screen to flash 'no acess.' Or for it to come up with a picture from the depths of hell. "You've made the right choice, Krycek." And then the screen flashed 'connection made.' And he was staring at a man waiting to take his ticket order. "Samuel? Can I see you?" Dana asked quietly. He disentangled himself from his fathers arms and looked up at her. Well, looked at her. He was on a level with her eyes. "You're my mom." "I think so." He hugged her lightly. "Do you remember me?" "Barely. But I remember your father." She smiled at him. "I remember something." Epilogue "Hello!" a cherry voice. "Margaret, it's Fox." "You found her!" she blurted into the phone. "Uh...yeah." he responded. "And Samuel's all right?" "He 's fine. I'm bringing her home, Margaret." His voice cracked slightly. "I know. Please hurry, Fox." "I will. God, Margaret, she's safe and alive and-" "Just come home." "We'll miss you, Joanna. Or...Dana?" "I wouldn't feel comfortable hearing you call me Dana, Em. I'll miss you too." "Best damn nurse we ever had." "Don't forget, I'm a damned doctor, now!" Jo...*Dana* stood among a close group of friends in the Dallas hospital that had been her life for the past three years. She was going back, to Washington, where her memories were. Where her son and his father were. Her medical training had resulted in her re-attaining her medical degree as a practicing doctor, and she was going to start life where she'd left it eight years ago. "I'm going to miss you all." She blinked. "I promise I'll write." "Stop in next time you're in Dallas!" Emily waved as Dana left. Mulder was waiting for her at the car. She had asked for a moment alone, and he had understood. How does one leave the only place you've known for the last three years? "Are you sure you want to do this, Scully?" he asked, studying her face. "I can't stay here. I have a son, and I have my memories." "And you have me." He joked. "Right where I want you..." she mock slugged him. Then she sighed. He was so different than he had been. His hair was graying, and he wore a beard, short and clipped. His eyes though, had lost a little of their hardness, even though he'd explained the hell he lived in. She suspected it had to do with being a father. "You know that this is what you want to do? I mean, Sam could move out here, I could get a transfer-" "I miss Washington." She interrupted. "I miss my family." "I missed *you*." He said simply. "I looked for so long-but there comes a time when you have to give up, and move on. I had to stop for Samuel's sake." His eyes begged her to understand. He had lost faith, even when Sam hadn't. "It's okay." She climbed into the car. "I just want to go home." Sam sat in the back seat, and kissed her cheek as she leaned back. She would have to get to know him, to spend time making up for eight years without a mother. It would not be easy. She had decided to take a job as a doctor in a hospital nearby. The bureau was no place for her, not now, not if they couldn't continue the X-Files. It was like yesterday to her, not almost a decade. Mulder couldn't back down, and he couldn't reopen them himself. But there was a promising young agent named Grant...and he decided to give her a call as soon as he could. She would make an excellent candidate. So everything's fine and back to normal. *Hardly!* What would they do about Sam? Was he going to become some sort of shuttle kid, going back and forth between their houses, like they were divorced? She wouldn't fool herself that she loved Mulder, she had found that out the minute she remembered Pfaster and Duane Barry. The minute she'd seen him wearing her cross. But what did he feel? He'd lost faith. He'd stopped looking. *He never stopped looking for Samantha!* she thought, then ruthlessly squashed that idea. He'd had to, to preserve Samuel's life. So where did that leave him? *Oh, please, Dana, please forgive me, I would have found you if only I'd looked!*he looked over at her on the airplane and sighed. He watched her sleep. She was so beautiful... He put his hand over hers. She stirred slightly and opened her eyes. "I'm sorry..." "No...s'awright." she murmured sleepily. "Mulder...I need to know." "Need to know...?" "Know...what to do." She looked at him. Her eyes strayed to Sam, also sleeping in his seat. "About...Sam." "I don't know, Scully." "Me either. But...I don't want him to become some sort of traveling child." "He deserves better." He agreed. "I just don't know what to do, Scully. I...I missed you, so much...I don't want to ever have that happen again." "How did it happen?" "You went home one night...and the next morning you never came in. I just...found an empty house. Sam on the couch, but an empty house. I thought, at first, you'd just left. But I found things..." "I'm sorry, Mulder." "Me too. I think...I think maybe you'd better stay at our house for a few months...at least until you re-adjust." "That...sounds good." She knew the invitation came straight from his heart, and she respected that. Next to him, Sam stirred. "Momma...?" "I'm here, Sam." "Do you like ice cream?" It was the most ridiculous question. It brought home how very little he know about her, and vice versa. She exchanged a glance with Mulder. "I love ice cream, baby." "Me too. Will you be with us when we get home?" "Forever and ever." "I hope so. I need a momma." "Oh really?" "Mm-hm. And Dad needs a wife." *Well.* she stared at her son. "I guess he made up our future for us, didn't he?" "I guess so." She went back to sleep, secure against his shoulder, with his arm around her. The Absolute End I was not your woman I was not your friend but you gave me something to remember Madonna(I'm Breathless, used w/out permission) I guess I'm a time traveler, I love to write speculative bits like this. This is a four parter for a reason, that reason being to keep it suspensful and cliffhanging. Please don't ask me to send the rest, yes I will post it soon, but I can't send stuff thru email, I don't have the time(sorry!!!) I will post the rest very soon.
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