MESSENGER

Date: 31/08/96

MESSENGER (copyright Right Brain, August, 1996)

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! :-)

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!)
I would rate this PG-13 for language and possibly for subject
matter. 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!

DISCLAIMERS: The characters of Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Margaret & Melissa
Scully & Walter Skinner are the property of Chris Carter and 1013
Productions, and no copyright infringement is intended. Just my undying
gratitude. The characters Dr. Jill Logan, Dr. Fielding and any other
hangers-on are from my Right Brain.
__________________________

M E S S E N G E R
prologue: The Awakening
date: November 17
place: DC General, Room 12

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 marvelled 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 practised
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 lustre 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 lullabye 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, grey 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 defence 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."

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 practised 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.

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.
_______________

Recovery
Date: November 24
Place: D.C. General

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 catalogue - 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 humour 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 cliche 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."
________________________

end of part 1/5

Subj: Messenger2/5
Date: 31/08/96 18:36:22
From: morij@sasknet.sk.ca (Right Brain Creative Services)
To: XFarchive@aol.com

MESSENGER (copyright Right Brain, August, 1996)

part 2/5

Date: November 30
Place: Margaret Scully's home

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 neighbours' 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,

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 grey 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 cel 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.

Revelations
Place: The X-Files office
Date: December 11

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 humour. "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
Dana Scully's apartment

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
8:45 a.m.

"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 said 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 offence, 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.
Dr. Fielding's office

"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."

___________________________

end of part 2/5

Subj: Messenger3/5
Date: 31/08/96 18:38:23
From: morij@sasknet.sk.ca (Right Brain Creative Services)
To: XFarchive@aol.com

MESSENGER (copyright Right Brain, August, 1996)

part 3/5

Monday, December 16
X-Files Office

"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.
Autopsy bay

"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 centimetres, 3.5 centimetres and 2.6 centimetres." Dr.
Scully spoke with practised 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
X-Files Office

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 foetus 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 barrelling 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?"
______________________________

- The Truth

DC General Laboratories
December 21

Dr. Jill Logan concurred with the technicians. Their examinations
revealed that the foetus was male, 10 -12 weeks. She jotted 'inevitable
miscarriage' occurring when the foetus 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 foetus' 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 demeanour, something was wrong. He blurted out - "The
foetus, 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 foetus." 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 defence 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 foetus'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.
______________________________

end of part 3/5

part 4/5

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 alot, she really would've missed her favourite
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
rumours 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.
Place: D.C. General, Room 45

She saw a bright light beaming into her retinas. She lay prone on a
stainless steel examining table, was she dead? <No, if I was dead I
couldn't see the light, I wouldn't be aware that my feet are so cold.> She
squinted and noted her feet were held aloft in raised stirrups. Then came
the pain of intrusion into her vaginal passage. <Owwwoh, God no, please
no!>

"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 unfocussed 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 grey. 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 counselling." 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
others' 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 - loosing 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."
 - it became his mantra as he headed
down the hall.

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 counselling 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 foetus
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 preg. 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 foetus - 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?"
____________________________

end of part 4/5

Subj: Messenger5/5
Date: 31/08/96 18:40:57
From: morij@sasknet.sk.ca (Right Brain Creative Services)
To: XFarchive@aol.com

part 5/5

The Conversation

Mulder repeated her words silently.
<The last to know - what? More conspiracy.>

He suspected just where that rumour 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 alot 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 defence. "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 alot 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
December 24

"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
morij@sasknet.sk.ca

JAN MORIER
morij@sasknet.sk.ca
www.bfsmedia.com/RBCS

RIGHT BRAIN Creative Services
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