From: Luvthebeez@aol.com
Date: Sun, 15 Oct 2000 14:26:55 EDT
Subject: Story submission - "Equanimity"
Source: direct


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Equanimity
by LuvTheBeez 

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Summary:  Mulder's sudden return coincides with the 
start of colonization.  Was he sent home for a reason? 

Spoilers:  Everything through Season 7.

Category:  MSR, Post-Colonization

Disclaimer:  Mine - most definitely not, though there 
are a few original characters I'll claim.  
The others belong to 1013, Fox and Chris Carter.

Rating:  NC-17, mostly for sexual situations.

Posting:  Fine by me, but please let me know...

Feedback:  Yes, please! luvthebeez@aol.com

All parts can be downloaded at my web page: 
http://luvthebeez.homestead.com

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Author's Notes

This novel began as a tiny little 7K post-Requiem 
vignette called "A Safe Place".  It was the first fanfic I'd 
written in a very long time, and I thought that the little 
exercise would be my proverbial swan song.  I received 
feedback from some kind souls who asked if a sequel 
was planned.  I hurriedly assured them that I certainly 
intended no such thing.

Then, reckless creature that I am, I started thinking.

7K's not much of a swan song.  I wanted something big, 
with lots of juicy angst.  And aliens. And if Skinner and 
Krycek were there too, so much the better.

I've always loved a good post-colonization adventure.   I 
love those stories where Mulder and Scully are out in 
the wilderness, running from danger and fighting the 
elements.

So, I began to think about Mulder's return.  If the aliens 
were collecting people who had been exposed to the 
black oil, why might they send him back?

I came up with a possible reason that I thought might 
make an interesting story, and I started to write.  I wrote.  
And I wrote some more.  And it kept growing until it 
became the ridiculously long work that you see before 
you.

The vignette that started the whole thing has been 
included here as a prologue.  The rest of the story can 
stand on its own, but I think the prologue sets the tone, 
and it will only take you two minutes to read.  The new 
story, Equanimity, starts as Chapter One. 

I have taken many liberties with times and places.  For 
purposes of this story, it is assumed that Mulder 
disappeared in early August.  For my own devious 
purposes, I've made other assumptions that you're just 
going to have to live with.  I have invented my own 
science, and I've made it work my way.  Ah, the power.

I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed 
writing it.  It was every bit as much fun as I thought it 
would be.   And, please, I beg you, let me know what 
you think.  It would really mean a lot.

LTB

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Prologue:  A Safe Place

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Georgetown
Early October, 2000

It had been weeks since she'd jumped at the sound of a 
telephone.

Those first few days after Mulder's disappearance, she'd 
allowed herself the hope that a ringing phone - any 
ringing phone - was certain to bring the announcement 
of his return.  She'd called from her hospital bed to 
check her home machine and office phone every 30 
minutes.  Upon her return home, she'd checked her cell 
phone constantly to be sure the battery was always fully 
charged.  A simple knock on her front door one evening 
caused her heart to beat so fast that she thought she'd 
faint.

But the voice on the phone, the message on the 
answering machine, the person at the door - it was never 
him.  And slowly, she'd forced herself to stop hoping.  
Because it was too hard.  Because it hurt too much to 
bear.

The ringing stopped as she closed her front door.  
Dropping her keys on the table, she glanced at the 
machine.  No message had been left.  Probably her 
mother, inviting her for the weekend.

See?  That was easy.  Not even a passing thought that it 
might be Mulder.  Or Skinner, calling to say that more 
lights had been sighted over the small Oregon town and 
that he was on his way to the airport to check it out.  Or 
the Lone Gunmen with some news of him.  Or the 
hospital calling to say that he'd been brought in and 
could she come right away because he was asking for 
her?

The weekends away had helped.  Her mother knew 
enough to keep her ridiculously busy, filling every 
moment with activities and houseguests to keep the 
quiet away.  Though she'd tried, she'd felt oddly 
detached from everything, as though she were watching 
the world through a mirror.  Scully-Through-the-
Looking-Glass.  It was a safe place, but it was away 
from everyone else.

Maybe that was how the baby felt, safely wrapped in its 
cocoon, the sounds around it muffled and indistinct.

Gratefully, she unzipped her skirt as she moved into the 
bedroom.  She couldn't hide things much longer, and her 
clothes were becoming too uncomfortable to tolerate.  
Pulling off her pantyhose, she stood shyly in front of the 
mirror.  She was amazed at the difference in the last few 
weeks - the changes in her breasts, the disappearance of 
her waistline.  She put her hand on her belly, imagining 
his hand there and how he would smile at the feel of the 
tiny bulge.

But she wouldn't think about that now.  She'd think 
about it later when it wasn't so hard.  She'd call her 
mother and invite her to shop for maternity clothes this 
weekend.  Well, maybe not maternity clothes.  Maybe 
just some less constricting things.  She didn't want all 
those people at work, all those people without names, to 
know yet.  Not before Mulder knew. 

She put her hands up, covering her face.  She had to stop 
this.  She couldn't think about this all the time, couldn't 
be sad and miserable every second of every day.  
Couldn't miss him constantly.  She had the baby to think 
about.  That was the important thing.  She'd take a bath.  
She'd make dinner and watch a movie.  She'd get in bed 
and read a book until she fell asleep, and then it would 
be time to go back to work.

Resolution returned, she moved into the bathroom, 
opening the taps on the big bathtub.  She turned on 
music and sat on the edge of the tub, holding her hand 
under the rushing water, closing her eyes at the blessed 
sounds filling up the emptiness.

The tub finally filled, she lowered herself into the 
wonderfully warm water and thought again of the baby.  
This is what it must really feel like, warm and floating 
inside her body.  She caressed the little bump of her 
stomach.  Even with the baby there, even thinking of it, 
imagining what it looked like, there was no losing the 
feeling that there was a big hole inside her.  The missing 
of him was a physical thing, a void that needed more 
time than existed in the universe to fill.  Dipping her 
washcloth in the warm water, she covered her face with 
it and allowed herself one last luxury.  She allowed the 
tears to come. 

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Her bedside lamp was still on, her book still clutched in 
her hand when she woke. She felt horribly groggy and 
confused, and she glanced at the clock with disgust, 
knowing she wouldn't get back to sleep again for hours.  
Sleep had been a long time coming and had been filled 
with visions of things she didn't dare imagine while she 
was awake.

Pulling back the covers, her book hit the floor with a 
thud.  And then another sound.

The phone ringing.

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The floor nurse walked with her to his room.  She told 
Scully he was fine, told her over and over again as if she 
could read the disbelief on Scully's pale face.  Told her 
again and again that he'd been asking for her, been 
insistent that they call her before treating him.

Stopping in the doorway, she saw that he was sleeping.  

The nurse left her then, and she stood watching him.  He 
looked thinner, his hair longer, but he looked wonderful.  
Content.  She smiled, watching him breathe.

A moment of panic hit her as she imagined that she 
might still be in her bed, asleep.  But this was real.  He 
was here.  Surely no dream could be this cruel.

She moved quietly into the room, pulling a chair next to 
his bed and reaching for his hand, afraid again that she 
was fooling herself, that this was not real and that her 
touch would find him cold and lifeless.  He was warm, 
though, and the doctor in her couldn't resist checking the 
strong beat of the pulse in his wrist.

He stirred at her touch, smiling before his eyes even 
opened.  He turned to her, and when he finally looked at 
her she was sure he'd had reason to be afraid of dreams 
too.

"Scully," he whispered, his voice cracking as though it 
hadn't been used in a while.

"It's okay," she replied.  "I'm here.  Everything's okay."

He reached toward her, touching her hair and brushing 
the tears from her cheek. 

"I missed you so much," he said.  "You look so 
beautiful."

"Impossible," she laughed.  "I fell asleep with wet hair.  
I look awful."

"I have so much to tell you, Scully."  He smiled.  "You'll 
never believe it."

She moved to sit next to him on the bed.  Her hand 
trembled a bit as she brushed the long hair from his 
brow.

"Oh, Mulder," she said.  "I will."

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END OF PROLOGUE

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EQUANIMITY
Chapter One

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Georgetown General Hospital
October 9, 2000

He woke suddenly from one of his deep sleeps, turning 
his head to find her sitting next to his bed.  Sitting as 
she'd been since he'd appeared two days before.

"Scully?" he croaked.

She took his hand.  "I'm here.  Everything's okay."

"Did you see it, Scully?  There was a ship."

He was asleep again before she could respond.

His arrival at the hospital had been as mysterious as her 
sudden appearance after her own abduction.  No staff 
seemed to remember him being checked in, no 
emergency service had any record of transporting him.  
He had slept nearly constantly since he'd returned, 
waking only occasionally, falling asleep again after 
assuring himself that she was still there.  Sometimes, 
he'd reach for her hand, touch her hair or caress her 
cheek before falling back to sleep.

She was concerned about how exhausted he seemed, but 
the doctors assured her that he was fine - a little 
dehydrated and a bit too thin - and that his body needed 
the rest.  After the last of the test results came back, he'd 
be released to go home.

Home.

In an effort to convince herself that she was confident of 
his return, she'd used some of her savings to pay his 
rent.  His apartment was still intact, the sheets were 
clean and the newest of the replacement fish were still 
alive.  And now, upon his release from the hospital, he'd 
return to his uncharacteristically tidy apartment.

And life could not possibly go on as it had before.

She longed for and dreaded the "talk" they needed to 
have.  She was hopeful that he'd be delighted with the 
news of her pregnancy, and at the same time certain that 
he'd freak out.  How could he not freak out?  She was 
still freaked out and she'd had weeks to get used to the 
idea.

And what exactly was she supposed to say?  'Gee, 
Mulder, remember that one crazy night, the first time 
either of us had sex in so many years it's just downright 
embarrassing?  You know, the night we've managed to 
ignore ever since?  Well, gosh - who would've thought 
we'd need a condom?'.

Christ.

She wasn't even sure herself that she wanted things to 
change.  She knew without a doubt that he loved her as 
much as she loved him, and she'd grown comfortable 
with the way things were.  But now things could be 
different.  Maybe even better.

Or they could be ruined forever.

She stood up and stretched her aching back.  She didn't 
dare count the number of hours she'd spent sitting in this 
chair, but she was terrified to let him out of her sight.   
Skinner had come by at some point during her long 
vigil, finally relieved of the burden of guilt he'd carried 
like the proverbial albatross.  They'd grown closer while, 
in his own unobtrusive way, he'd watched over her in 
the last few weeks.  His concern had been a comfort to 
her.

She moved quietly into the bathroom and stared hard at 
herself in the mirror.  God, she looked like death 
warmed over.  She needed some food.  And some sleep.  
And somebody needed to invent a reliable substitute for 
caffeine.

When she walked back into the room he was watching 
her, looking really awake for the first time.

She smiled at him like everything was just fine. "Hey," 
she said.  "How are you feeling?"

"Like Rip Van Winkle."  His voice was still a little 
rough and she moved to pour him a glass of water.  
"How long have I been sleeping?"  

"Much less than 20 years."   She handed him the glass 
and he drank thirstily.  "But most of the last 48 hours."

She sat down next to him on the bed and he stared hard 
at her for a long moment.  "Are you okay, Scully?" he 
asked.  "You don't look well."

Yep.  Death warmed over.

"I'm fine," she smiled.  "Just a little tired."

"You've been here all the time?"

"Most of it.  I was beginning to think you'd never wake 
up."  She took his hand.  "Are you feeling all right?"

Nodding slowly, he leaned forward and wrapped her in 
his arms, holding her tightly.  It was everything she 
could do not to burst into embarrassingly hysterical 
tears.  She bit her lip and stroked his back soothingly.

"Scully," he whispered.  "What happened to me?"

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Four hours later, he was released from the hospital.  
When he'd first reappeared, it seemed that his memories 
of the abduction and the time after were intact, but those 
memories were now gone.  His confusion and the 
memory loss worried her, but the extensive tests she'd 
insisted he be given had come back clean and they had 
no reason to keep him any longer.  The doctor suggested 
that she bring him back to the hospital if he became 
more confused, but he felt strongly that the memory loss 
was temporary, probably brought about by some 
psychological trauma.  The good news of his release 
energized Mulder, and they were packed up and on their 
way shortly after the doctor released him.

It hadn't taken much persuasion to convince him to stay 
with her for a few days.  He'd actually looked relieved.  
Though the feeling remained unspoken, neither was 
willing to be away from the other for any length of time.  
As Scully stood in the middle of the kitchen, doing 
absolutely nothing but listening to the sound of the 
shower running, she realized that this was all going to 
take a little time.

She rubbed the small mound of her belly.  There were a 
few things they were going to have to discuss sooner 
rather than later, however.

The sound of the shower stopped, and she opened the 
refrigerator door to look for something to prepare for 
dinner. Rarely hungry in the past few weeks, she was 
suddenly famished.  She poured a jar of spaghetti sauce 
into a saucepan and turned on the burner.  It looked 
delicious.

Still hyper-alert, she listened as Mulder moved around 
in the bedroom.  They'd stopped at his apartment to pick 
up his things, and he'd gotten a little teary-eyed when he 
realized that she'd kept the place together for him.  
Naturally, that made her a little teary-eyed.  They were 
excruciatingly shy with each other, she made some lame 
joke about him owing her big time, and they'd hurried 
back out to the car.

Pulling vegetables out to make a salad, she stopped for a 
moment as a wave of nausea washed over her.  Good 
God, she was nervous.  Not just a little nervous, either. 
Big time nervous.  Nervous like when your best friend, 
the man you love, has been missing for eight weeks 
(abducted by aliens, no less), returns with no memory of 
where he's been and is changing clothes in your 
bedroom.  Oh, and you have to figure out how to tell 
him that you're pregnant with his baby.  When you're 
supposed to be barren, for Christ's sake.

Well, she wasn't barren.  That was for sure.  She could 
prove that by the fact that she was about to vomit all 
over the kitchen floor.  She took a few deep breaths and 
felt better.  She could do this.  Everything would be fine.

"What can I do?"

She almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of his 
voice.  Mulder, fresh and flushed a healthy glow from 
the shower, stood in the kitchen doorway.  He looked 
good.  Really good.

She smiled and pointed the celery at him.  "You look 
better."

"That was the best shower I've ever had in my life," he 
said.  "No other shower will ever compare."

He took the celery from her.  Dear God, was she still 
pointing it at him?

"Shall I chop?" he asked.

"No."  She managed to get hold of herself.  "You should 
sit.  Rest.  I'll make dinner.  It's nothing special, it'll just 
take a minute."

"I'm fine, Scully.  Really."  He smiled.  "I want to chop.  
It's important to me."

"Well, far be it for me to keep you from your ultimate 
happiness," she said, and handed him the biggest, 
sharpest knife she could find.  If he wanted to chop, 
she'd give him the tools.  "Chop away."

This was good.  This was okay.  They could do this.  
Her pulse rate dropped back to somewhere close to 
normal.

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Based on the food served, dinner was better than it 
deserved to be.  They were both ravenous and there was 
a comfortable silence between them for the first few 
minutes.  Smiling at her, Mulder reached over and wiped 
a little spaghetti sauce off her chin.

"This is really great, Scully," he said.  "It feels good to 
be here with you.  Sitting in your apartment and eating 
spaghetti with you."

She couldn't stop the tears that rushed to her eyes.  
Mortified, she looked down at her lap, hoping he 
wouldn't notice.  "I'm glad, too," she said.  "I missed 
you, Mulder."

He twisted the last of the spaghetti onto his fork.  "This 
is the best spaghetti I've ever eaten.  Ever.  No spaghetti 
ever tasted this good."

Scully laughed.  "Liar.  It's just because you haven't 
been eating enough."  She stood and reached for his 
plate.  "I'll get you more.  You should have more."

"Sit down, Scully," he said.  "I can get it."

He returned after a moment, his plate filled with another 
huge serving of pasta.  He started to dig in again, then 
frowned, lowering the fork to the plate.

"How did you stand it, Scully?" he asked.  "How could 
you take not knowing what happened to you?  Where 
you'd been all those months?"

Her appetite suddenly gone, she placed her fork gently 
on the table.

"I couldn't stand it at first.  I was terrified all the time.  
Scared to death that they'd come back and take me 
again."  She sighed.  "I wanted to know what they'd 
done to me, what they'd done to make me so sick.  But 
there was a bigger part of me that was even more afraid.  
Afraid to know the truth."

He reached across the table and took her hand.  "You'd 
never talk to me about it then, Scully," he said.  "I 
wanted so much for you to tell me how you were 
feeling.  I could see that you were afraid.  I wanted to do 
something to help, but I couldn't seem to get close 
enough for you to let me in."

"Are you afraid, Mulder?"  She grasped his hand tighter.  
"Are you afraid of what they might have done to you?"

He shook his head.  "I'm not.  Not really.  Deep down, I 
don't feel like anything bad happened.  I'm not sick like 
you were.  Except for the fatigue, I feel pretty great.  
Happy, even.  It's just frustrating as hell that I can't 
remember any of it.  Who knows - I might have seen 
amazing things.  Gotten answers to all my questions.  
Found the meaning of life.  And now it's all just gone."

"Maybe it's better," she said quietly.  "Maybe it's better 
that you don't remember.  Safer."

He nodded slowly as he looked hard at her.  "Maybe," 
he admitted.  "But I need to know, Scully."

"Of course you do."  She smiled at him a little sadly.  "I 
wouldn't have expected anything else."

"What about you?  Have you been all right?"  He ran his 
thumb over the back of her hand.  "You look like you 
could use some sleep."

"I could definitely use some sleep," she said, smiling.

"Don't get me wrong," he said quickly.  "I didn't mean 
that you don't look great, because you do." 

"I've been fine, Mulder.  Really fine."  She looked down, 
suddenly incredibly uncomfortable.  Standing up, she 
started to remove the plates.  "I'll make coffee."

Mulder looked at her, concerned. "What is it, Scully?"

Oh, perfect.  Things were going so well and here she 
was ready to throw up again.  Mulder followed close 
behind her as she moved into the kitchen.  Maybe he'd 
think she didn't hear the question.  She turned on the hot 
water and drizzled the soap in.  God, he was close.  Way 
too close.  She couldn't think.

She knew she was in big trouble when the world started 
to tilt a little strangely around her.  She grasped the edge 
of the sink to steady herself and took some slow, deep 
breaths.

"Scully?"  Mulder grasped her by the arms.

"I'm okay," she whispered.  "Really.  I just got up too 
fast."

She was a terrible liar.  He turned her around to face 
him, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him.  
Tucking a finger under her chin, he forced her eyes to 
meet his.  "Scully," he breathed.  "You're scaring me.  
Tell me what's wrong."

He wiped her tears away with his thumbs.  Was she 
crying?  She was a complete and utter mess.  She took a 
deep breath in a feeble attempt to pull herself together.

"Mulder," she said.  "I have to tell you something."  She 
swiped at the tears on her cheeks, frustrated by her lack 
of control.  "I just don't know how to do it." 

He leaned over and kissed her forehead.  "You know 
that you can tell me anything.  Whatever it is, Scully."

He pulled her toward him then, wrapping his arms 
around her and holding her tightly.  She felt his hand 
comb through her hair, slow and soothing.

She took a deep breath and pulled back to look into his 
eyes.

"Mulder."  She smiled at him.  "I don't know how it can 
be.  I never thought it was possible, never thought it 
would ever be possible."  She took his hand.  "I can't 
explain it."

Mulder had never been so confused.  "Yeah, I'm getting 
that part, Scully."  He looked at her thoughtfully.  "Just 
blurt it out.  You can do it."

She nodded, took a deep breath, and said it.

"I'm pregnant."  She just knew she was going to throw 
up all over him if he didn't say something really quickly.

"Scully..." He smiled.  "But how?  I thought it was 
impossible..." He reached up to cup her cheek.

She smiled back at him.  "I don't know.  But they've 
given me every test in the book and everything seems 
perfectly normal."

Mulder was still staring at her, grinning.  "How far..."

"A little over four months."  She moved to unbutton her 
jacket.  "All of a sudden, you can see it."

Opening her jacket, the little bump was revealed to him. 
He stared at her stomach, shaking his head in disbelief.  
She reached out to take his hand.

"Here," she said.  "You can feel it."

He ran his fingers over the little bulge, then placed his 
whole hand over it.  He could still cover it completely. 
"God, Scully."

"I know."  She grabbed his hand.  "Come here, Mulder."  
She sat him down on the couch and sat on the coffee 
table to face him.

"You can tell me the truth," she said.  "You can be 
totally honest with me.  This was a big surprise for both 
of us.  If you're not ready for this, or if you don't want to 
get...quite this involved, I'll understand.  I'll be okay."

"Scully," he said.  "This is unbelievable news.  This is 
something I never thought I'd have.  That we'd ever 
have, because I can't imagine having a family with 
anyone but you.  It's wonderful."  Leaning back against 
the cushions, he shook his head.  "My God.  A baby."

"You're sure?"  She closed her eyes, relieved.  "You're 
really happy?"

"I'm really happy."  He pulled her toward him, and she 
sat close beside him on the couch.  Wrapping her in his 
arms, he kissed her. 

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Thinking back on it later, Scully was never sure which 
came first - the lightning or the knock on the door.

She woke groggily, still on the couch and wrapped 
comfortably around Mulder.  She couldn't possibly have 
slept much, not nearly long enough to make up for all 
the lost sleep from the past few days.  She was 
unbelievably exhausted.

Her disorientation increased when she turned to look at 
the clock on the mantle.  Though they had fallen asleep 
with every light in the place blazing, the room was now 
immersed in complete darkness

Perfect.  The electricity must have gone out.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning lit up the room with an 
eerie, stark brightness.  The huge clap of thunder 
following it finally shocked her back to full 
consciousness.

Untangling herself from Mulder, she moved to the 
window.  It was deep black outside, dark on the whole 
street as far as she could see.  Lightning and thunder 
crashed again - nearly simultaneously this time.  The 
storm must be really close.  Strange that there was no 
rain yet.

She wrapped her arms around herself against a sudden 
chill and let the curtains fall closed. 

It was then that she heard the knock on the door, a 
quick, insistent pounding as if someone had waited to be 
sure the sound would be audible between thunderclaps.  
She turned to look at Mulder, who was finally stirring.

"Who could that be?" he asked.

"I've no idea," she answered.  "I don't know what time 
it is.  The power's out all up and down the block."

"Maybe one of your neighbors."

As he opened the door, a surprised look passed over his 
face.  "Sir?"

He stepped aside to allow Skinner, dressed in jeans and 
a dark shirt, to move quickly past him into the room.  He 
was breathing hard, but Scully couldn't tell if it was 
from exertion or fear.

Mulder closed the door.  "It's not that we're not happy to 
see you, sir, but what are you doing here in the middle 
of the night?"

"Get packed," he said.  "Both of you.  Only what you 
can carry in one bag."

Scully moved closer to the two men. "Sir?"  She touched 
his arm.  "What's wrong?  What's going on?"

"It's all gone to hell," he said.  "We've got no time.  I'll 
tell you everything you want to know in the car, but 
we've got to go.  Now."

Another huge flash of lightning lit up the room, 
revealing the panic in Skinner's eyes.

"It's a bad storm, sir," Scully said.  "Maybe we should 
wait..."

"Scully."  Skinner looked hard at her, a slight tremor in 
his voice.  "It's not a storm."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Georgetown
October 10, 2000

Scully didn't realize how anxious she was until she 
started to throw what clean clothes she could find into a 
bag.   She moved into the bathroom to pack her 
toiletries, and a flash of lightning lit the room long 
enough for her to see her own pale, frightened face 
staring back at her from the mirror.  Her hands shook 
slightly as she hurriedly packed her things into the small 
makeup bag, then returned to the bedroom to place it in 
with her clothes.

Mulder, who had never even had time to unpack his own 
things, came into the room as she zipped up her small 
suitcase.  He reached to take it from her.

"I tried to call my mother," she said.  "I couldn't get 
through - the phone lines must be down.  She was 
maybe going to visit with her sister in New York this 
weekend, but I don't know if she actually went or not."

"We'll try again when we get out of the city."

"It's them, isn't it?" she asked. "The aliens."

Mulder nodded.  "I think so."

Picking her jacket up from the bed, she slipped it on, 
wrapping it tightly around her.  She looked up at him, 
seeing the fear in his eyes.

"Colonization."  She hated the way her voice shook.  
"It's really happening."

He moved to her then and wrapped his arms around her.  
"Let's go.  Skinner's got a place for us."  He pulled back 
and looked at her.  "It'll be okay.  I promise."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

As they moved quickly to the car, they looked to the sky 
each time the air around them lit up.  They knew now 
that this violent lightning and thunder was no winter 
storm, but a series of explosions coming closer  as the 
Colonists moved over the city.

Skinner had packed the SUV tightly with food and 
camping supplies.  Scully climbed into the back of the 
car, the two small suitcases piled next to her on the seat.  
Mulder barely had his seat belt fastened before Skinner 
pulled away from the curb, tires squealing.

They watched in shocked silence, driving past dozens of 
bewildered people who had started to come out of their 
houses, many of them standing on front lawns and 
sidewalks, meeting in small groups in an attempt to 
understand what was happening.

Numbly, Scully watched them.  She was freezing and it 
had little to do with the temperature.  She huddled 
deeper inside her wool jacket, pulling the long sleeves 
down to cover her hands.  She looked through the back 
window as they pulled further away from her apartment 
building, and she wondered if she'd ever come home 
again.

If there'd be a home to come back to.

Skinner handed Mulder a folded map.  "I've marked our 
destination," he said.  "Look for some alternate routes in 
case the main roads are blocked."

"Where are we going?" Scully asked.  "You said you'd 
tell us what was going on."

Skinner sighed.  "Word came into the top FBI brass 
about four hours ago.  Several large objects - spacecraft 
of unknown origin - had been spotted on radar, coming 
in fast from deep space.  Interception was considered, 
but as time went by and the size and sheer number of 
objects they were tracking became apparent, it was 
determined that our current defense capabilities were 
hopeless against an attack of this size."

"These 'spacecraft of unknown origin'," Mulder said.  
"How many are we talking about here?"

"Hundreds," Skinner said.  "At least twenty enormous 
ships, each heading for or already in the process of 
destroying a major world city.  As of 30 minutes ago, 
there was one on each coast of the United States.  
Smaller ships are fanning out across the center of the 
country as we speak."

Outside the car, another huge explosion lit up the night 
sky.  This one was close enough to feel, the ground 
beneath them rumbling with the force of it.  Skinner held 
tightly to the steering wheel in an attempt to maintain 
control of the car.  Traffic on the expressway was 
starting to pick up now, cars speeding past them as 
people began their panicked attempts to leave the city.

"They have to do something," Scully said.  "I can't 
believe they're just going to let this happen.  Why not try 
nuclear weapons, or..."

"They did try, Scully.  Four nuclear missiles were fired 
at a ship hovering over Kansas City."  Skinner swerved 
suddenly to miss a speeding car as it cut into his lane.  
"There was zero damage to the Colonist ship, but twelve 
pilots and hundreds of civilians on the ground below 
were killed in the resulting return of fire."

"My God, " said Scully.  "What is it they want?  To 
destroy everything?  Wipe out everyone on this planet?"

"No," said Mulder.  "Not everyone.  They need us."

"Need us for what?" Scully asked.  "What are you 
talking about?"

"You know, Scully."  Mulder turned to face her.  "We 
were there.  Inside one of their ships.  It almost 
happened to you."

No, she couldn't think about this right now.  "But there 
were others," she whispered.  "Another race of aliens 
fighting against these.  Where are they?"

"We're on our way now to a safe house deep in the 
mountains," Skinner said.  "We'll be joined there by 
others who will be able to explain how we'll fight 
against these things.  Plans have been underway for 
some time now."

Mulder turned to him, amazed.  "How long have you 
known about this?"

"Ever since you disappeared," he said.  "What I saw that 
night made me believe.  I knew then that everything 
Krycek had told us was true."

"Krycek?" Scully laughed.  "Is he one of the people 
we're meeting up with?"

Skinner nodded.  "I think he can be trusted.  We're all on 
the same side."

"Nobody's on Krycek's side except Krycek," Scully 
frowned.  "He killed Mulder's father and he murdered 
my sister in an attempt to kill me.  I don't trust him.  I 
won't."

Mulder turned to look at her again, but she was huddled 
in the corner of the back seat, staring out the window.

"I think Skinner's right, Scully."

She turned to him, aghast. "Mulder!  How..."

He reached out and grabbed her hand.  "He was right 
about the ship that took me, Scully.  I think he wants the 
same thing we do."

"Mulder," she gasped.  "I can't believe this.  How do you 
know he didn't set you up?  Your abduction might have 
been exactly what they wanted - "

"For what?  There are certainly easier ways he could 
have gotten rid of me.  He's had the opportunity to kill 
me a dozen times over."

She shook her head, horrified.

"Scully, listen to me," he implored.  "I don't think it was 
the Colonists who abducted me.   I think it was the 
rebels, and I think there's a reason I was brought back 
now.  I'm here for a reason.  To help stop this."

She pulled her hand away from him and tucked it back 
inside the sleeve of her jacket.  She turned away, staring 
out the window into the blackness.

Skinner glanced at her in the rear view mirror.  "Believe 
him, Scully.  I think he's right."

She leaned her forehead against the cold glass and 
closed her eyes.  "I don't know what to believe," she 
whispered.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

On the Road, Somewhere in Vermont
October 10, 2000 

It seemed hours before they got beyond the city, and 
Scully had finally succumbed to exhaustion, falling 
asleep with her head propped against the suitcases.  
Mulder turned and watched her for a moment, glad that 
she was finally getting some rest.

"She'll come around," Skinner said quietly.  "She'll 
understand that this is something you have to do.  That 
we all have to do."

Mulder faced his boss.  "Maybe this isn't what I should 
be doing now.  Things are...complicated.  We've got 
responsibilities that we didn't have before."

Skinner studied him for a moment.  "She told you?"

"Yeah.  I wasn't sure you knew."  Mulder smiled.  "I 
still can't believe it.  No matter what, no matter what 
else I have to do, she has to do know that she's the most 
important thing in my life.  She and the baby."

"Maybe you need to tell her that," Skinner said.

Mulder nodded.  "Yeah.  Maybe I do."

"Why don't you try and get some sleep?  We've got 
another few hours drive, and then a bit of a hike ahead 
of us."

Mulder folded the map and placed it on the seat between 
them. "This house we're going to," he said.  "How do 
you know we'll be safe there?"

"I don't know that we'd be safe there forever," Skinner 
replied, "but for the time being, I think they'll 
concentrate on the big cities.  Try to destroy systems and 
infrastructure to incite panic.  It's a lot easier to get 
people to follow you when they're afraid."

Mulder nodded, turning again to see that Scully was still 
sleeping.

"We'll have to be careful with how we communicate 
with the outside world," Skinner continued.  "No cell 
phones.  Nothing with a signal they might be able to 
track."

Mulder leaned his head against the window.  Despite the 
tension of the situation, he was having a hard time 
keeping his eyes open.

Skinner turned to look at him.  "Sleep, Mulder." 

"You sure you don't want me to take over the driving for 
awhile?"

"No," Skinner said.  "I'm fine.  I don't think I'll be able 
to sleep for a long time to come."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

The Woods near Stowe, Vermont
October 11, 2000
10:30 a.m.

Neither Mulder nor Scully slept much after the car left 
the main road.  The dirt track they'd turned onto was full 
of holes and bumps, and a light snow falling caused the 
SUV to skid crazily more than a few times.

Scully clutched tightly to the seat belt she was wearing, 
her eyes screwed tightly shut.  She didn't know how 
much more of this she could take before she lost 
everything she'd eaten over the past month.

"Scully?"

She unscrewed one eye to see Mulder's concerned face 
looking back at her.

"I'm okay," she assured him.  "Just a little seasick."

"You want some water?  Or to sit in the front?  We can 
pull over..."

"Actually," Skinner interrupted.  "We're here."  He 
pulled the big car carefully into the trees, maneuvering 
into a small wooden carport that hadn't been visible 
from the road.

"Thank God," said Scully.

"Let's get the car unloaded," Skinner said.  "The house is 
up the trail about a mile."

"Please," said Scully.  "Tell me this place has indoor 
plumbing."

Skinner smiled.  "All the comforts of home."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

The "cabin" was no little weekend getaway.  The large, 
rustic house was built into a hillside, and it looked as 
much a part of the forest as the huge tress that 
surrounded it.

They piled their things onto the big wooden porch, and 
Skinner pulled a key from his pocket.  Entering the 
house, Scully was pleased to see that the place was clean 
and comfortable, with large sunny rooms and lots of 
overstuffed furniture.  A huge fireplace filled one wall 
of the main room, and she could see the entry to a large 
gourmet kitchen.

"We've got our own generator for electricity," Skinner 
said as he began bringing in their provisions.  "There's a 
small lake about a half mile further up the mountain.  
Not much else, though.  We're pretty isolated.  Cabins 
up here are separated by considerable distances." 

"It's beautiful," Scully said.  "Who owns this place?"

"I do, actually," Skinner replied.  "It's been in my family 
for several generations."

Between the three of them, they managed to get the last 
of the food and supplies unpacked in fairly short order.  
Skinner picked up his own bags.

"There are three bedrooms and a small office."  He 
moved to the closest doorway, placing the bags just 
inside.  "This is my room."

He opened a door next to the bedroom.   "This is the 
bathroom.  Clean towels are in the linen cupboard 
behind the door." 

Scully was relieved to see that there was indeed indoor 
plumbing, which included both a shower and an 
oversized bathtub.  Things, she supposed, could have 
been worse.

Skinner moved to the next door, opening it to reveal a 
bright room, the early morning sun pouring in through 
the big windows.  "You can have this room," he said, 
dropping their bags onto the big bed.  "Why don't you 
get settled.  I'm going out to bring in some firewood, 
then we'll have breakfast and talk some more."  He left, 
closing the door behind him.

Scully sat down on the bed.

"I think that's our cue to talk," Mulder said as sat down 
beside her.  "I can sleep next door if you'll be more 
comfortable."

"Mulder."  She reached out and took his hand.  "Those 
things I said in the car.  I didn't mean them."  She stood 
up and moved to the window.  The view of the forest 
was breathtaking.  She sighed, pulling her jacket tight 
around her, then turned back to face Mulder.

"Actually, I did mean them.  I don't trust Krycek and I 
don't understand how you can, either.  But I do trust you, 
Mulder.  And I do want to be with you and fight against 
this however we can."

She moved back to the bed and sat close to him.  "And 
no, I don't want to you sleep next door."

He smiled and wrapped an arm over her shoulder, 
pulling her close.  "Thank God," he said.  "I was going 
to be really depressed if I had to sleep next door."

"I want to be involved in this, Mulder," she said.  "And I 
don't want to be treated like an invalid just because I'm 
pregnant.  Things may get more difficult later, but right 
now I'm strong and healthy and I can keep up."  She 
looked up at him.  "And I don't want Krycek to know 
about the baby.  Promise me."

Mulder nodded, leaning down to kiss the crown of her 
head.  She settled against his shoulder.

"I promise," he said.  "But I reserve the right to worry a 
little.  I'm pretty sure that comes with the territory."

"Okay," she smiled.  "You can worry a little."

"There's nothing more important to me, Scully.  Nothing 
more important than you and the baby.  As long as 
you're with me, I feel like everything will be okay."

"Mulder," Scully said quietly.  "I feel the same way."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

The Woods near Stowe, Vermont
October 12, 2000
4:45 p.m.

The day had begun casually enough - Mulder and 
Skinner treated themselves to a huge, hearty breakfast 
while Scully nibbled on some dry toast and tea.  Mulder 
made a point of pretending not to notice that she might 
not be feeling her best.  He was admirably restrained.

Krycek and several other members of what they 
optimistically called the 'resistance team' were expected 
sometime in the next couple of days.  The first day was 
spent getting settled and trying to learn as much as they 
could about what was going on in the outside world.   
While Mulder and Skinner worked outside, Scully 
listened to Skinner's short-wave, using a map to mark 
locations of varying degrees of destruction.  Rumors 
transmitted over the radio abounded, and it was difficult 
to sift through the terrified voices to determine truth 
from fiction and quickly developing urban legends.

From what she could ascertain, though, thousands of 
people had already been killed in the larger cities.  
Washington DC, New York, Los Angeles and San 
Francisco had been virtually decimated.  Smaller, 
outlying cities suffered less damage, but hundreds of 
people were being rounded up and tested.  Those who 
did not meet the qualifications required by the Colonists 
were killed.  There were already hundreds of mass 
graves up and down the eastern seaboard.

Scully turned off the radio.  She couldn't listen to this 
anymore.

Several hours earlier, she had attempted to call her 
mother from the cabin's phone.  Mulder had insisted that 
the call be filtered through the Lone Gunmen (who had 
survived in a bomb shelter built beneath the magazine's 
offices) so that it could not be traced.  She had been 
unsuccessful in reaching anyone, including her brother 
in San Diego.  And now, with the stories she was 
hearing about the fate of the people in DC and New 
York and up and down the West Coast, she held out 
little hope that either of them could still be alive.  She 
had no idea how to reach Charles - he'd been out at sea 
for weeks before any of this happened.

She needed some air.

Pulling on her jacket, she stepped out into the ice cold 
mountain air.  She took a deep breath and looked up 
over the tops of the trees.  The sky looked like it might 
snow again later.  She started walking.

The forest was beautiful - so peaceful and quiet after the 
events of the previous night.  The sun was getting low 
on the horizon, and it was dark and cold under the tall 
trees.  She made her way up the dirt trail toward the 
lake.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Mulder closed the door behind him and pulled off the 
heavy work gloves.  He and Skinner had collected 
enough wood to last them an eternity, and it was now 
neatly stacked out on the porch.

He'd never been so tired in all his life.

The house was quiet and he wondered if Scully had 
finally given in and taken a nap, but their room was 
empty, the bed undisturbed.

The office revealed some clue that she'd been there.  A 
large map lay open on the floor, markings and statistics 
in Scully's neat handwriting written in several different 
colors of ink.   He stared at it in disbelief.  If these 
figures meant what he thought they did...

"Scully?"

He moved back into the living room, finally looking into 
the small entry closet to note that her jacket was gone.  
Grabbing his own jacket and gloves, he went back 
outside.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

He found her sitting on the ground by the frozen lake, 
her back supported by a toppled log.

"Scully?"

She turned to see him moving toward her.

"Hey, Mulder."

Suddenly fearing he might be unwelcome, he stopped in 
his tracks.  "I can leave you alone if you want," he 
offered.

She smiled up at him. "No, it's okay.  I don't mind."

He sat down close beside her, and she leaned into him.  
Wrapping his arm around her, he tucked her closely 
against his side.

"It's so beautiful here," she said.  "The sunset is going to 
be incredible."

"I wish it would give off a little heat on its way down.  
It's freezing out here, Scully."

They sat quietly for a moment, watching as the sun 
moved closer to the lake.

"I'm sorry you couldn't reach your mom."

"Why are things always so complicated for us, Mulder?"

He ran his hand up and down her arm. "I don't know.  I 
wish it didn't have to be this way.   Especially now."

"When you told me you were happy about the baby, I 
thought, just for a little while, that we might be able to 
start a whole new life.  Live like everybody else.  Fight 
over bills instead of whether or not Alex Krycek can be 
trusted."

Mulder sighed.  "Well, our memoirs will be really 
interesting."

"At least now people won't think we were completely 
nuts.  What'll we call them?  'Mulder and Scully Save 
the World'?"

"'Scully and Mulder Save the World'," he said.  "I give 
you top billing."

"Gee, thanks."

"It's a pretty lofty ambition, Scully.  Saving the world."

"Lofty ambitions sell books."

"Yeah, well, maybe if we can't save the world," he 
whispered, pulling her closer, "maybe we can just save 
each other."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

The Woods near Stowe, Vermont
October 13, 2000
1:15 a.m.

Any nervousness Scully had felt about their first real 
night together in months vanished when Mulder fell 
asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.  She was 
completely exhausted too, but so pent up she couldn't 
sleep.  It seemed as though a million thoughts and 
questions were jammed into her brain, all fighting for 
resolution, and she was too tired to sort any of them out 
so they could be put to rest.

She watched him sleep for a while, studying his face, 
and was glad to see that the gauntness of a few days ago 
had already disappeared.  His face was a little fuller and 
healthier since his appearance at the hospital.  He was 
looking more like his old self again.  She smiled at the 
lock of hair drooping down over his eye.  He could still 
use a haircut.  She thought maybe she'd offer to do the 
job tomorrow.

She turned over again in an attempt to find a 
comfortable position and tried to will her brain to quiet 
down.  Sighing in frustration, she realized that this 
wishful thinking wasn't going to work and all the tossing 
and turning was going to wake Mulder.  She needed a 
distraction.  There was a big bookcase in the other room.  
She'd make some tea and stretch out on the couch with a 
nice distracting trashy novel.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

There was plenty of tea to be had, but Skinner's book 
collection was a little lacking in the trashy novel 
department.  Giving up, she sat down at the kitchen table 
with a two-day old newspaper, but was forced to 
abandon it quickly.  It was too depressing in its 
normalcy.  Who could have imagined that everything 
could change so quickly?

She was too exhausted and emotionally spent to stop the 
tears at that point, and she angrily pushed the newspaper 
onto the floor.  Resting her head on her folded arms atop 
the table, she cried quietly.

It was only a few moments before she felt a hand on her 
shoulder.

"Scully?"  Mulder crouched down next to her and she 
raised her head to see him looking at her with concern.  
He reached over to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her 
ear.

"What is it, Scully?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered.  "I didn't mean to wake you.  
I'm okay."

"Wrong answer."  He moved to sit in the chair next to 
her.  "Tell me, Scully.  Please."

"It's nothing, really."  She shook herself in an attempt to 
gain back some control.  "And it's everything.  I'm so 
tired that I can't sleep.  I keep thinking about my mom 
and my brothers and I'm scared that they're dead and I'll 
ever see them again.  Or that they're still alive and being 
tortured somewhere.  I'm scared for you and I'm scared 
for myself.  I'm terrified that something will go wrong 
with the baby."  She took a deep breath and smiled sadly 
at him.  "I'll be okay.  I'm just tired.  Everything will be 
better when I've gotten some sleep."

Mulder reached out to brush away her tears, then took 
her hand, pulling her up out of the chair.  "Come with 
me."  Leading her into the bathroom, he closed the door 
quietly and turned the taps on the big bathtub.

"Mulder, we'll wake Skinner."

"Scully," he whispered as he opened and closed 
cupboards, pulling out towels.  "I've sat on planes next 
to him.  He's slept through takeoffs, landings, food 
service and severe turbulence.  The sound of running 
water isn't going to wake him."  He pulled out a small 
plastic bottle.  "And he steals from hotels.  Bubble bath."

Scully smiled, watching him as he poured the liquid 
under the running water.

Closing the lid on the toilet, he motioned for her to sit 
down.  "Let me take care of everything.  You are only 
required to relax and, hopefully, enjoy."

When the tub was completely filled and frothy with big 
bubbles, he turned off the overhead light.  Reaching out 
for her, he pulled her to her feet, then reached down to 
the hem of the big t-shirt she'd worn to bed.

She closed her eyes as she felt her heart start to beat 
faster, hating that she was nervous.  She raised her arms 
and let him pull the shirt up over her head.  It made a 
soft sound as it landed on the floor near her feet.

"You're beautiful, Scully."  He leaned toward her and 
kissed her gently on the lips.  "Everything's okay."

Removing his own clothing, he helped her into the tub 
and climbed in behind her.  Lying back against him, she 
took a deep breath and allowed herself to relax.  His 
hands ran over the smooth skin of her neck to her 
shoulders, where he began kneading the sore and tired 
muscles.  She leaned forward a little to allow him better 
access.

"That feels wonderful," she whispered.

"Shh..." He started working on the taut muscles in her 
neck, then moved slowly up to massage her scalp.  
"Don't think, Scully.  Just feel."

She felt all the tension leaving her body then, 
concentrating on his strong hands and how wonderful 
they felt against her skin.  The bathroom was humid 
with steam and she felt herself growing sleepy.  She 
leaned back against him and he held her until the water 
started to turn cold.

Pushing her forward a little, he climbed out.  She 
followed him and he wrapped her in one of the big, soft 
towels he'd pulled from the cupboard.  She could barely 
keep her eyes open, and he dried her off gently, 
wrapping another towel around himself as he led her 
back to the bedroom.

Once they got into bed, she moved to him, pillowing her 
head on his shoulder, one leg thrown over his.  "Thank 
you," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

He kissed her gently on the forehead.  "Sleep, Scully.  
Everything's going to be okay."

And at that moment, safe in his arms, she believed him.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

The Woods near Stowe, Vermont
October 13, 2000
7:45 p.m.

They were nearly done with the dinner dishes when the 
knock on the door came the following evening.  They'd 
grown comfortable in the house and comfortable enough 
in their isolation that the first knock caused Mulder to 
drop the dish he was drying.

Scully jumped at the sound.  Though she knew it was 
inevitable, she'd held out some small selfish hope that 
Alex Krycek would never arrive and that they could hole 
up in this safe place for a while.  Now, she steeled 
herself for his arrival as Skinner moved to open the front 
door.  When he did, the sight in front of her was nothing 
close to what she'd expected.

Marita was there in all her delicate blondeness, every 
hair on her head still neatly coifed, but she looked 
terrible.  Her eyes were wild with fear, and it seemed to 
take every ounce of strength she had to support Krycek, 
who appeared to be heading somewhere toward the 
downside of consciousness.

Mulder rushed to help bring him inside, Marita nearly 
falling as the weight was lifted from her.  

"What the hell happened?" Mulder asked, as he and 
Skinner carried Krycek to the couch.

Scully moved to examine him, peeling back the leather 
jacket to reveal a nasty gunshot wound to his left 
shoulder.  She looked up at Mulder.  "Help me lift him - 
I need to get his shirt off.  I'll need towels and hot 
water."

Marita still stood in the doorway, breathless with the 
exertion of half-carrying the injured man up to the 
house.  On his way to fetch the towels and hot water, 
Skinner stopped to close the front door and lead her to a 
chair at the kitchen table.

"We were followed trying to leave the city," she said, 
her breath still coming heavily.  "They shot at us and 
Alex was hit.  I didn't think his injury was serious at first 
- he managed to lose them before he passed out.  We 
nearly went over the side of the mountain."

Skinner eyed her sharply.  "You're sure you weren't 
followed here?"

"Positive," she answered.  "I pulled us back into the 
woods where we couldn't be seen.  We sat there for 
hours.  Nobody followed us."

With Mulder's help, Scully managed to get Krycek's 
blood-soaked shirt off.  He stirred a little as she began to 
clean the wound.  "It looks like the bullet went clean 
through," she said.  "He's lost a fair amount of blood, but 
he should be all right if we can keep the wound from 
becoming infected."  She looked at Skinner.  "Sir, I need 
something to clean the wound with, and bandages if 
you've got them.  If you don't we'll need to make some."

Skinner nodded, moving toward the bathroom.  "I 
should have everything you need."

Mulder sat down next to Marita.  She was still 
trembling.  "Are you all right?" he asked her.

"I'm fine," she said as she watched Scully work on 
Krycek.  "We need to get him cleaned up and get out of 
here."

Scully looked up, startled.  "What are you talking 
about?"

"The Colonists are moving in this direction much more 
quickly than originally estimated."  She moved to sit on 
the coffee table near Krycek's head, leaning over to 
brush the hair back from his forehead.  "There's a place 
near the Canadian border.  It's underground.  We'll be 
safe there."

"He really shouldn't be moved for several days," Scully 
protested.  "If he starts bleeding again, or the wound 
becomes infected, there won't be much I can do to help 
him."

"Then we'll have to carry him."

Skinner returned with a roll of bandages and a huge 
bottle of penicillin.  "Will these help?"

"Sir," Scully said, surprised at the bounty he laid before 
her.  "Yes.  This will be a great help.  Unless, of course, 
he's allergic to penicillin."  She looked at the blonde 
woman.

"Not a clue," Marita said.  "We'll have to risk it."

"Marita," Skinner said, sitting next to her on the coffee 
table.  "Why the change in the estimate of the Colonists' 
progress?"

"They're meeting with very little resistance at this point.  
Most of the large cities on the East Coast are already 
gone.  They've successfully rounded up hundreds of 
survivors and have set up test facilities close to major 
highways.  They're moving into less populated areas 
now, apparently trying to find anyone who may have left 
the cities."

"Who shot at you?" Mulder asked.

"I don't know.  But they weren't Colonists, I can tell you 
that.  They were very human."  She looked at Skinner.  
"I could really use some food.  We haven't eaten 
anything in nearly 36 hours."

Skinner nodded, moving to the kitchen to reheat the 
remains of their dinner.

Mulder took Skinner's place on the coffee table, lifting 
Krycek again so that Scully could work on bandaging 
his shoulder.  "This place you mentioned, the 
underground facility.  What is it exactly?"

"It used to be a secret military installation, deserted 
sometime after the Cold War ended.  Now, it's a 
headquarters of sorts for the resistance effort."

Scully had finished bandaging Krycek's shoulder and 
motioned to Mulder to lay him back down.  "Not much 
of an effort so far, is it?"

"Food's ready."  Skinner set a plateful of food on the 
table.

Moving to sit at the table, Marita began eating hungrily.  
"The resistance can't begin until everything...and 
everyone...arrives."

Finally satisfied with Krycek's appearance, Scully stood 
and moved to sit next to her.  "Who are they waiting 
for?"  She glanced at Mulder, then back at Marita who 
continued to eat with a certain abandon.  "They're 
waiting for us, aren't they?"

Marita put her fork down and stared hard at Scully.  
"You're not an idiot, Agent Scully.  How do you 
suppose we're going to end this?  Our defense systems 
are laughable against them.  The only way to stop them 
is to make humans useless to them."

"The vaccine," Scully said quietly.  "They need us to 
make the vaccine."

Marita nodded.  "Except for Skinner, we've all been 
exposed to the virus and treated with the vaccine.  
Others like us will be making their way to the 
compound.  We need to get there as soon as possible."

Scully looked at Mulder.  "I suppose we could load him 
into the back of the SUV.  It's not going to be very 
pleasant for him."

Having finished her dinner, Marita carried her dish into 
the kitchen and placed it in the sink.  She looked up at 
Skinner.  "You have any pain killers in that magic bag of 
yours?"

"Four different kinds," Skinner answered.

"We'll probably be safe here one more night.  We'll let 
him rest until morning and we'll keep him on the 
antibiotics.  With the pain pills, he'll be fine."  She 
smiled.  "He's a very determined man."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

The Woods near Stowe, Vermont
October 14, 2000
1:00 a.m.

It was hours later before Scully finally climbed into bed.  
She'd managed to get both antibiotics and painkillers 
into Krycek before they'd moved him into the last 
bedroom to sleep.  He'd actually looked a little better by 
the time they got him into bed, and Scully was 
reasonably sure he'd be fine if there was no fever in the 
next few hours.

She turned onto her side and looked out the window, 
watching as a few snowflakes drifted down.  She'd 
barely closed her eyes and was already in that 
comfortable place between wakefulness and sleep when 
Mulder, fresh from the shower, lay down next to her.

She smiled sleepily.  "You smell good."

"More of Skinner's stolen beauty products," he said as 
he reached over to turn off the lamp.  "I still haven't 
figured out why a man with no hair has nineteen 
different varieties of shampoo."

"I noticed," Scully whispered.  "And did you see that 
first aid kit?  I could perform heart surgery on the 
kitchen table."

"Wow.  Let's hope that's not necessary."  He moved 
closer to her then, spooning up behind her, his arms 
wrapped comfortably around her waist.

"How are you?" he asked.

She smiled.  "I'm good.  I was hardly sick at all today."

His hand moved to cover the slightly swollen belly.  
"And how's the Bump?"

She placed her hand over his.  "Very fine, I think.  
Growing by leaps and bounds."  She moved back to tuck 
closer against him.  "This is nice, Mulder.  This is what I 
thought about while you were gone.  You holding me 
like this."

"This is all that matters, Scully."  He kissed her on the 
cheek. 

She turned toward him then, moving close so that their 
faces were nearly touching.  Reaching a hand up, she 
traced his features, fingers skimming gently over his soft 
eyelashes, his cheeks, his lips.  "I was so afraid that 
you'd never come back."  She touched his throat, hands 
moving down his shoulders and chest.

"I'm here, Scully."  He leaned in closer, covering her lips 
with his.

She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around him, 
pulling him closer.  His mouth left hers, moving slowly 
down to plant small kisses along the side of her neck.  
One hand moved underneath the hem of her shirt, 
reaching up to gently caress her breast.  Her breath came 
more heavily as he touched the sensitive skin.

She kissed him hard, passionate with desire for him, 
desperate to be closer.  She lifted the t-shirt over her 
head and lay next to him in nothing but her panties.  He 
smiled at her uncharacteristic boldness, and then his 
mouth was on her again, working his way down until 
she felt him at her breasts, his tongue flicking across one 
nipple, then the other.  His hand ran up her thigh, across 
her belly and then down again, gentle and comforting. 

She could barely breathe.

She reached down between them, and he gasped a little 
when she touched him.  His hands left her long enough 
to pull off his boxers, and she could feel the hardness of 
him against her thigh.  Taking him in her hand, she 
began to run her fingers up and down his length, 
sometimes barely touching, sometimes grasping harder.  
She moved her hand up to cup his balls.

He was breathing hard now, and he leaned in to kiss her 
again.  "Jesus, Scully," he panted.

His hand was on her belly again, moving slowly down 
until he was under her panties.  She was unbelievably 
wet, and he moved two fingers inside her. 

A low, animal sound came from her throat.   She felt 
ready to explode - every cell of her body seemed 
hypersensitive to his touch.  He teased her a little, 
moving his fingers around her clit, close but not 
touching.  

She grasped his shoulders.  She was so close, but she 
felt like she could last forever.  "Mulder," she 
whispered, more sounds than words.   "I want you inside 
me."

He was on top of her then, and she gasped with the 
staggering heat of him when they connected.  He began 
to thrust, slowly at first, then faster, more desperately.  
She felt his fingers inside her again, and it was all she 
could do not to scream when she came, her muscles 
contracting around him.  It was all he needed to send 
him over the edge, and he buried his head against her 
neck as he released inside her.  She held him close, tears 
spilling down her cheeks.

He rolled away from her, propping himself up on one 
arm and reaching over to wipe the tears away.  "Are you 
okay?"  He brushed the damp hair from her forehead.

She laughed.  "God yes, Mulder.  I'm very okay."

Smiling, he lay down again, his head on her shoulder.  
Wrapping her arms around him, she kissed him lightly 
on the top of his head.

"I love you, Scully," he whispered.  "I always have."

She held him closer then, and told him what she'd 
always known but had never dared say.

She loved him back.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Mulder was walking between a pair of railroad tracks 
when he first heard the sound of a train whistle off in the 
distance.  He stopped for a moment, looking down at the 
hard-packed dirt under his feet, then across the tracks to 
the trees that ran thick along each side.

How in the hell did he get here? 

He reached up to rub at the ache between his eyes, then 
lifted the cap up off his forehead - the thing was too 
damned tight.  It was giving him a headache.

He stared at the offending piece of clothing, wondering 
how he came to be wearing a red baseball cap.  He 
didn't own one.  Puzzling, but it was effective for 
keeping the hot sun off his face.  Sizing it a little larger, 
he put it back on his head.

A strange feeling went through him then, and he realized 
that he could feel the vibration of the oncoming train 
beneath his feet.  Turning to look back down the tracks, 
he saw a wisp of smoke in the distance, and the sound of 
the piercing whistle seemed much closer.  He started 
walking again, a bit further toward the bend in the tracks 
to see if he could get a better look at it.

That was when he saw it.

It was a tiny figure at first, too far away to be 
recognizable, walking toward him down the center of 
the tracks.  Something wasn't quite right about the 
strange figure - it moved unnaturally slowly, its gait 
strange as if the person were horribly drunk.

He could see the train now too.  It was still too far away 
to see its features in any detail, but close enough to see 
that it was on the same track as the small, lurching 
figure.  Mulder stopped.  Putting one hand to each side 
of his mouth, he shouted at the figure to move off the 
tracks.  There was no response, but it was quite possible 
that he was still too far away to be heard clearly.  He 
began walking more quickly, picking up his pace and 
gesturing at the person who continued to move slowly 
toward him.

Not surprisingly, the first thing he recognized was her 
hair.

"Scully!"  He called to her, his voice shaking with fear.  
She seemed to hear him this time, nearly toppling over 
as she staggered to a stop.  There was something 
horribly wrong, and he began to run, rushing toward her 
as he watched her place a pale hand to her head, pulling 
it back to stare at the blood there.

The train was much closer now, roaring down the tracks 
toward her, whistle screaming.  She didn't seem to hear 
it at all, but it appeared that she was aware of him as he 
ran toward her.  As he got closer he could see that her 
face was covered in blood, her hand moving up shakily 
to wipe the dripping mess out of her eyes

His heart leaped into his throat.  "Scully!" he screamed.  
"The train!  It's coming behind you!"

"Mulder," she cried weakly.  "I need help.  Please, help 
me..."

He wasn't going to make it to her in time.  The train was 
bearing down on her faster than he could possibly get 
there.

"Scully!" he screamed.  "Move off the track!"

She held one arm out to him now, reaching for him.  
"Mulder!"

The train was so loud now, coming so fast, and he felt a 
hand on his arm restraining him, keeping him from 
getting to her in time...

"Mulder!"

What were they doing?  Why were they trying to stop 
him from reaching her?  He fought uselessly against the 
invisible hands, pulling away from them and then, 
suddenly, he was falling, hurtling through empty space 
to a place where everything was dark and cold.

He was bathed in sweat, his heart beating hard in his 
chest.  He realized with overwhelming relief that the 
hands on him were Scully's, and he was in his own bed, 
safe.  With Scully safe, here next to him.  Just a bad 
dream.

But why could he still hear the train bearing down on 
them?

"Mulder?"  She was so close to him that he could feel 
her breath against his face.  "Mulder, please wake up!  
Something's wrong!"  

He reached over and touched her face.  The sound - it 
was still there - unbelievably loud, but what was it?  Not 
a train.

"Scully?  What the hell's going on?"

He could tell then that she was scared, grasping at him 
in the darkness.  "It's them, Mulder."  She spoke close to 
his ear so he could hear her.  "Oh, God.  They're here." 

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

The Woods near Stowe, Vermont
October 14, 2000
1:00 a.m.

Not knowing what else to do, they lay close together, 
waiting out their fate as the huge ship passed overhead.  
The sky lit up very briefly only once, and the location of 
the explosion seemed to indicate that the cars had been 
found and destroyed. 

The ship moved away, circling away to the south, then 
back toward them again until it finally disappeared to 
the east.  The quiet was nearly deafening, the only light 
coming from the full moon through the window.

"Jesus."  Mulder cupped Scully's cheek.  She was still 
trembling.  "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she said.  "We should check on the others."

Skinner came through the front door as they moved into 
the main room.  "The generator's not working.  There's 
no reason why it shouldn't be, but it's dead.  And there's 
nothing left of the cars."

"Why do you think they didn't blow the house up too?" 
Scully asked.  "The passed over it more than once."

"The house is made completely of wood."  Krycek, fully 
dressed and supported by Marita, appeared at the door to 
his room.  "Because it's built into the hillside and 
surrounded by trees, we were protected. But don't think 
they won't be back.  They're smart enough to know that 
if there are cars, there are people close by.  We've got to 
get the hell out of here.  Now."

"Both cars were destroyed," Mulder said.

With a grimace, Krycek pulled his jacket on.  "Then we 
walk.  More reason to get started as soon as possible."

"Walk?"  Skinner shook his head in amazement.  "You 
want to walk to the Canadian border?  Through the 
mountains?  It's late fall - freezing at night.  In this part 
of the country, winter comes early.  We had snow 
flurries last night."

Krycek moved slowly to the couch where he sat down 
with a grunt.  Even in the pale moonlight, the 
perspiration on his face was clearly visible.

Skinner gaped at him.  "Look at you.  You can barely 
make it five feet from the bedroom.  You really think 
you're going to be able to walk 50 miles?"

"If we've got another option, I'm listening," Krycek said.

"He's right."  Scully moved close to Skinner.  "We've 
got no choice.  It's too dangerous to stay here."

"I'll keep up," said Krycek.  "If I don't, you leave me 
behind."

"All right," said Mulder.  "But if we're going to do this, 
let's do it right.  There are topographical maps in the 
study and we've got all the camping equipment we can 
possibly use.  We'll plan the easiest route and stick to a 
schedule every day.  If the weather holds, we should be 
able to make it in a week."

"A week."  Marita looked hard at the group.  "Let's hope 
we're not too late."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Somewhere in Vermont
October 14, 2000
5:30 p.m.

The weather held the first day, and they began to make 
camp as dusk fell.  Scully could sense Skinner's 
frustration at the slow pace they were keeping.  Though 
Krycek was keeping up remarkably well, he was still 
weak from the blood loss and his equilibrium was a bit 
off with his only good arm strapped against his chest.  
They found it necessary to rest quite often.

She hated to admit it, even to herself, but Scully had 
been grateful for the frequent rest stops that day.  She 
was still short of sleep, and had not packed the proper 
clothes for hiking in the mountains.  She wore boots that 
were more fashionable than they were practical, and she 
could feel the blisters being rubbed raw with every step.  
Mulder had kept to his word about not coddling her, but 
he stayed close by, his hand on her arm when they 
traversed difficult parts of the narrow trail.

Shortly after dusk, they had their campsite set up.  
Having drawn the short straw, Skinner had 
responsibility for meal preparations the first day, and 
Scully helped him to collect kindling for the fire.  In a fit 
of confidence, he handed her a single match before he 
moved down to a nearby stream to collect fresh water.  
By the time he returned, the fire was burning nicely, and 
he graced her with a small smile as he set the pot of 
water on the fire to boil.   

"Nice job, Agent Scully."

"Thank you, sir.  I never say no to a challenge."  She 
smiled at him, reaching into her backpack and pulling 
out the first aid kit.  She paused for a moment, watching 
him.  "May I ask you a question?"

"Sure."  He poured a package of dry soup into the pot, 
stirring it as it began to heat.

She looked toward a small green tent situated about 50 
feet away.  She moved close to him, not wanting to be 
overheard.  "Do you really think we can trust them?"

"Honestly, Scully?"  He was thoughtful for a moment.  
"I wish I knew.  In my gut, I don't trust Alex Krycek any 
further than I can throw him.  But here, in my head, I 
don't think we have any other choice."

She looked disappointed, and he smiled at her.  "Not 
very comforting, is it?  I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, sir," she said, standing up.  "I was just 
afraid that I was the only one."  Clutching the first aid 
kit to her chest, she moved toward the tent they'd been 
discussing.

There were quiet voices coming from inside and she 
stood quietly for a moment, listening.  Regretful that she 
couldn't understand what was being discussed and proud 
of her lack of guilt at the attempted eavesdropping, she 
cleared her throat.  The whispering stopped suddenly, 
and the tent flap was zipped open.

"Agent Scully?" Marita looked like at her like she was a 
gate crasher.

She indicated the first aid kit in her arms.  "I wanted to 
check the wound, and the bandage should be changed."

The flap opened wider to allow her entrance to the tent, 
and Marita stepped outside.  "I'll go see if I can help 
with dinner."

Scully turned to look at Krycek, comfortably propped 
against his backpack.  She eyed him with a clinical 
detachment she didn't really feel.  "How's the shoulder?"

He moved it gingerly, testing the range of motion.  
"Seems a bit better, actually."  He grimaced a little as he 
started to remove his shirt, and she moved to help him.  
"Scully...I want to thank you for what you did for me 
last night."

She pulled the shirt down off his shoulder and began to 
unwrap the soiled bandage.  There was a little blood, but 
not enough to worry about.  "I'm a doctor.  It's nothing 
personal, believe me.  I'd just as soon see you bleed to 
death."

Krycek smiled ruefully.  "Look, Scully, I know you have 
no good reason to believe me, but we're on the same 
side."

"You're right," she said as she cleaned the wound.  "I 
have no good reason to believe you."

Taping large pieces of gauze over the entrance and exit 
wounds, she began to wrap his shoulder in clean 
bandages.  A small gasp escaped his lips as she lifted the 
arm to maneuver around him.  

"Mulder believes me."

"He may believe you now, but that doesn't mean that he 
trusts you.  Trust has to be earned."  She handed him his 
shirt.  "The wound looks fine.  Try to keep it clean."

He reached out to her, taking her hand in his.  "I want to 
earn that trust, Scully.  From both of you."

Scully glared at him for a long moment until he released 
her hand.  "Don't forget to take the antibiotics."

Gathering up the first aid supplies, she lifted the tent flap 
and was gone.  A tiny smile on his lips, Krycek pulled 
his shirt on.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

She wasn't sure what woke her.  There was a tiny 
amount of light from the fire outside, but it was nearly 
black inside the tent.  Mulder, sleeping peacefully, was 
curled around her.  The air was cold, but when she 
reached up to her forehead there was a thin layer of 
sweat there, and the nausea, which had been blissfully 
absent for the past couple of days, was back with a 
vengeance.  She took a deep breath, willing it away.

Everything was too close - the tent was too small, 
Mulder was wrapped too tightly around her.  She 
couldn't breathe.  Though some small part of her 
believed that if she just stayed still the sickness would 
be kept at bay, another more desperate part insisted that 
she get out into the fresh air before she was violently ill.

Extricating herself from Mulder, she crawled slowly to 
the entrance of the tent and let herself out into the cold 
night air.  The moment she stood upright, she realized 
that the instinct to stay still had been the right one.  She 
barely made it out of the campsite and into the privacy 
of the trees before she lost Skinner's carefully prepared 
dinner.

When her stomach was empty, she stayed there on her 
knees for a moment, concentrating on the small forest 
sounds as she willed herself to stop shaking.  Carefully, 
she stood, moving to sit on a small outcropping of rocks.  
Pulling her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms 
around them and closed her eyes.

The flashlight beam heralded Mulder's concerned 
arrival.  "Scully?"

She looked up at him as he sat down close beside her.  
He'd brought her jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

"Are you feeling sick again?" he asked, as he brushed a 
strand of hair behind her ear.

"Understatement of the year," she said.  "It's just...so 
weird.  I'll be fine, and then it just hits me..."

He rubbed her back gently.  "Can I get you something?  
Some water, or maybe a piece of bread?"

"No," she said, leaning her head against his shoulder.  
"Maybe when it passes.  I'll be fine, Mulder.  You 
should go back and get some sleep.  I'll come in a few 
minutes."

"Scully, I'm not going to leave you alone out here when 
you're feeling so sick."  He brushed his fingers through 
her hair, pulling it gently away from her face.  "Would it 
help if I said something really cliche, like 'it will all be 
worth it in the end'?"

She smiled.  "I don't think so, but thanks for the 
attempt."  She took another deep breath and lowered her 
feet to the ground.

"Any better?" Mulder asked.

She nodded cautiously.  "I think so, but I've been fooled 
before."  She stood up, pulling her arms through the 
sleeves of her jacket.   Mulder looked at her 
questioningly, and she nodded again, more confidently 
this time.  "Okay.  Just don't make any sudden moves."

They had begun to move slowly back toward the camp 
when she stopped short, her hand moving to cover her 
stomach.  Mulder looked at her sympathetically, not sure 
if he should offer comfort or jump quickly out of the 
way.

"Oh my God, Mulder."  She smiled at him.  Reaching 
for his hand, she placed it over her swollen abdomen.  
"It's so weird.  I just felt it move." 

He was quiet as he stood there with his hand on her 
belly, wanting nothing more than to feel his child move, 
but there was nothing.  He started to feel a little silly.

Scully frowned, disappointed.  "I'm sorry," she 
whispered.  "I think it stopped."

Wrapped up in the moment, they didn't notice the figure 
who moved away toward the campground.

Krycek woke suddenly as the tent flap was unzipped.  
Marita, her eyes wild, sat down on her sleeping bag, a 
smile on her face as she looked at him.

"Whose canary have you swallowed?" he asked her. 

"You're never going to believe this," she said.  "This 
may be the answer we've been hoping for.  Dropped 
right into our laps."

Krycek looked at her in the dim light.  "What the hell 
are you talking about?"

"It's Scully," she said.  "She's pregnant."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Somewhere in Vermont
October 18, 2000
11:40 a.m.
The snow started in earnest several days later.  They had 
awoken to dark skies and cold temperatures that had 
been dropping consistently since the first day.  

They broke camp early, hoping to make as much 
progress as they could before the weather turned bad.  
Negotiating overgrown mountain trails had made their 
pace frustratingly slow.  They were on a particularly 
steep part of the trail that day, and they were all tired 
and irritable.  Krycek had recovered almost completely 
and was back to a normal energy level, but Scully was 
keeping a close eye on Skinner, who hadn't been feeling 
well since early yesterday.

The trail was narrow, forcing them to walk single file.  
Krycek, who carried the map, was leading the way, with 
Skinner bringing up the rear.  After several hours 
without a break, they stopped for food and a brief rest.  
Skinner couldn't restrain a bout of coughing, and Scully 
sat next to him, her gloved hand rubbing his back 
through the many layers of clothing.  

"How are you feeling, sir?" she asked.  She wasn't happy 
with the pallor of his skin or the layer of perspiration 
coating his face.  She placed her hand on his cheek.  
"You feel warm.  I think you may have a slight fever."

He smiled at her.  "It's just a cold, Scully.  I'll be fine."

"I know," she said, patting his shoulder reassuringly.  
Pulling a large bottle from the first aid kit, she shook 
three pills into her hand.  "I just want you to take some 
aspirin now, so we can make sure your temperature 
doesn't get any higher."

He took the pills from her, washing them down with a 
swig of water.  "Thanks, Doctor."

Replacing the kit into her backpack, she stood up.  "Stay 
here and rest for a few minutes.  I'll go get us some 
food."

Though they cooked hot food at night, their lunches 
consisted of the ready-to-eat meals Skinner'd had in 
storage at the log house.  Mulder was unpacking them 
and handed one to Scully as she approached him.  He 
smiled at her expression as she eyed the small package.  
He had to admit to feeling bad for her - the meals were 
nowhere near appetizing, and with her sensitive stomach 
she'd barely been able to look at the things.

"It's not Spago, but at least we haven't resorted to eating 
bugs yet."  He handed her a fork.

"Small consolation, actually," said Scully.  "At this 
point, the prospect of eating a bug is no less appealing 
than eating this stuff."   She crouched down next to him.  
"I'm worried about Skinner.  He's got a fever."

Mulder glanced over at Skinner, who was sitting 
propped on his backpack, his eyes closed.  He looked 
back at Scully, concerned.  "What do you think it is?"

"It might be nothing, maybe just the flu.  I gave him 
some aspirin to try to keep the fever down, but he should 
be resting."

"What about the antibiotics?" Mulder asked.

"They won't do any good if it's a virus."  She reached 
out for another of the meals.  "I'll take him some food."

Looking up at the sky, Mulder sighed.  "Rest might not 
be a problem.  When those clouds break, we're going to 
have to make camp.  It looks like a bad storm."

Scully reached out to squeeze his hand before she 
returned to Skinner.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

The storm began slowly, starting as a light drizzle of 
rain.  Soon after, the wind began to pick up, dropping 
the temperature drastically.  The light rain turned into 
painful pellets of ice which nearly blinded them as they 
tried to make their way up the trail.

The dirt trail itself had become treacherous as it became 
slick first with mud, then with a light coating of ice.  
Carrying the heavy backpacks, it was nearly impossible 
to stay upright.  Krycek, still in the lead, was the first to 
lose his footing, pitching backward directly into a 
startled Marita.

Holding tightly to Alex, her scream was nearly lost in 
the wind as they both started to slide down the hill.  
Instinctively, she reached one hand up toward Mulder.  
He managed to grab onto it, holding tight to the slippery 
wet leather of her glove.  Krycek held on tightly to 
Marita, grimacing in pain as his injured shoulder was 
pulled.

Mulder's face was contorted with the effort it took not to 
let them slip away.  He could feel Marita's fingers begin 
to slide through his, and as he reached out for a better 
grip he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on for 
long.

Suddenly, Skinner and Scully were there, both on their 
bellies as they reached out to grab Marita's arm.  
Together, the three of them managed to pull the pair 
back onto the trail.  They were all quiet for a moment, 
breathing hard and horribly frightened by what had 
nearly happened.  Krycek reached out for Marita and 
held her tightly.

"We've got to get the to the top of this ridge so we can 
find a place to make camp!"  Mulder had to scream to be 
heard over the wind.

The others nodded, and he reached back to take Scully's 
hand.  "Test your footing before you take a step.  It's 
slippery."

Grasping his hand tightly, she let him lead her up the 
trail. They moved slowly and carefully.  Scully turned 
occasionally to check on Skinner, but he seemed to be 
having no problem keeping up.  She could see the 
determination in his eyes.

After what seemed like hours, they reached the top of 
the ridge and were fortunate enough to find a small 
clearing.  A large outcropping of rocks acted as a natural 
wind barrier, and they were able to get a fire started and 
the tents set up without incident.

Around dusk, the snow stopped suddenly.  The air was 
freezing cold, but the clouds above them had thinned 
enough so that the stars could be seen poking through 
the haze.  

It was Mulder's night to cook, and he was busy at the 
fire.  Scully had insisted that Skinner get some rest 
before dinner.  His fever didn't appear any worse, but 
she'd had him take some more aspirin before she left 
him alone in his tent.

It was too cold to sit still, and she moved into the trees 
to see if she could find some dry wood.  Nearly 
everything was soaked through, but she'd found a few 
small pieces of kindling and had even come across a 
bush still containing a handful of blueberries.  Popping a 
few into her mouth, she stopped for a moment, 
surveying the area for more.  It was freezing - she 
couldn't seem to stop shivering and her breath was foggy 
in the icy air.  Deciding that Mulder's campfire sounded 
much more inviting than a further blueberry search, she 
turned to go back to camp.

It was then that she heard the voices.

It was Marita's quiet voice that she heard first, then 
Krycek's, harsher and more insistent.  They were having 
an argument.

Clutching the wood to her chest, Scully moved closer, 
concealing herself behind a large tree.  She peeked out 
to see them some 20 yards away.

Marita was still, standing with her arms wrapped around 
her, her head down.  An angry Krycek paced up and 
down beside her, his left arm immobile against his side 
while the right made expansive gestures in the air.

"Damn it, Alex," Marita said.  She spoke quietly, and 
Scully strained to hear the words.  "It's not right.  If I'd 
known how you'd react, I never would have told you."

Krycek moved to her then, grasping her by the arm.  
"You said it yourself!  It's the answer to everything, 
dropped right into our laps.  We can save the world, 
Marita."

"My God."  Marita gaped at him, laughing.  "You don't 
give a damn about saving the world, Alex.  It's all about 
the money to you.  Where exactly are you going to 
spend it?  There won't be anything left!"

"We can do both, Marita.  What's wrong with saving the 
world and making a profit at the same time?  It's the 
American way!"  He reached up, caressing her cheek.  
"Since when did you go all soft on me, anyway?  It's not 
like she'd be able to keep it under the best of 
circumstances."

"Jesus Christ, Alex," Marita gasped.  " I never meant 
that we should take it from her.  It's her baby!"

Scully clutched the wood tighter to her chest, her heart 
beating so hard that she was afraid they'd be able to hear 
it.

"And it will be the only human being on the planet with 
a natural immunity to the alien virus."  He looked hard 
at Marita for a moment, then sighed, pulling her into his 
arms.  "With the money we get, we'll be free of them.  
Finally free."

She pulled back, pacing for a moment before turning to 
look at him.  "So what do we do now?" she asked.

"Nothing.  We go along just as we have been.  We can't 
let them know we're even aware of the pregnancy."

Dropping the wood to the ground, Scully fled.  The tears 
in her eyes were nearly blinding, but she managed to 
make it far enough away so that they couldn't hear her 
when she threw up.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

She stayed in the woods for a long time, watching the 
camp as Krycek and Marita returned, knowing that she 
couldn't go back until she'd pulled herself together. She 
tried to think of what to do, whether even to tell Mulder 
of what she'd learned.  She needed time to think.

She heard Mulder call out that the food was ready, and 
he looked toward their tent when he didn't see her.  She 
heard him calling her name, and she rose to return to the 
camp.  Mulder would be worried when he couldn't find 
her.

She'd barely taken a step before the sound assailed her 
ears.  Covering them with her hands, she fell to her 
knees, looking frantically through the trees in an attempt 
to determine where the deafening noise was coming 
from.  The sudden movement brought the nausea 
crashing back, and she was immediately dizzy and 
disoriented.   She remembered trying to call out for 
Mulder, knowing that she couldn't possibly be heard 
over the din, and then everything went black as she 
crumpled to the ground.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Somewhere in Vermont
October 19, 2000
8:45 a.m.

She was so cold that it hurt. 

She sat up gingerly.  She had a splitting headache and 
she was so cold that she couldn't make her fingers work 
correctly.  She tucked them into her pockets and 
squinted up at the early morning sun.

What the hell had happened?  She remembered sitting 
here last night, then the sudden noise and the horrible 
vertigo.  Judging by the light, she'd been out for at least 
12 hours.  Why hadn't Mulder come looking for her?  
She was so close to...

Suddenly frightened, she turned to look at the camp.  It 
was eerily quiet, and she moved toward it slowly, not 
knowing what to expect.  The fire was out, though there 
was a small pile of wood lying next to it.  The canned 
chili Mulder had been preparing had boiled away, 
leaving a thick black mess burned to the bottom of the 
pot.

A cold, empty feeling settled into her stomach as she 
moved to check the tents.  One-by-one, she found them 
empty, nothing inside disturbed.  Skinner's sleeping bag 
was open, as though he had climbed out.  And 
gone...where?

She began to circle the campground, moving around the 
perimeter and out into the trees, looking for any sign of 
them.  There was nothing.  She sat down on the cold 
ground and wrapped her arms tightly around herself.  
They wouldn't have just left - Mulder would never have 
abandoned her.  

Unless he didn't have a choice.

She pushed away thoughts of the sound she'd heard the 
night before and what it might mean.  The truth of it was 
there, in the back of her head, but she couldn't bear to 
think about it.  Surely, Mulder and the others were 
somewhere nearby, probably out looking for her.  She'd 
stay put and wait for them to come back.

Moving back into the small campground, she put the 
burned pot aside and started a new fire.  She sat down 
and was still for a long time, holding her icy hands out 
to the flames as they slowly thawed.

When the sun was high in the sky, she got up and ate 
some food.  She hated every second of it and felt 
horribly sick to her stomach afterwards, but she 
managed to keep it down.  When the nausea passed, she 
went into the forest in search of more firewood, and she 
was heartbroken to find the camp still empty and silent 
when she returned.  She moved her tent into the trees, 
feeling more protected there than in the open clearing of 
the camp

The first night was the hardest.  She'd gotten used to 
sleeping with Mulder wrapped around her, keeping her 
warm and safe.  She was scared and lonely and pushed 
away thoughts that Mulder might be feeling the same 
way.  It was too sad.  She wouldn't think about the 
possibility of him not being alive.  She worried about 
Skinner, who'd been ill.  She wondered what she would 
do if they didn't come back tomorrow or the next day. 

She refused to give up hope, and the following few days 
were spent much as the first, gathering firewood, forcing 
herself to eat.  She walked around the camp several 
times in ever-widening circles, but still found no sign of 
any of them.

On the tenth day, there was a surprising warmth in the 
air and she washed her clothes and bathed herself in the 
icy cold stream near the camp.  She was startled by her 
naked reflection in the water, bewildered by her own 
body.  She barely recognized it as her own.  Her 
normally small breasts seemed huge, and her belly had 
changed shape seemingly overnight - any sign of a 
waistline had disappeared.  There'd be no hiding it 
anymore.  

It made her desperately sad that Mulder wasn't here.  
Soon, the baby would be big enough that he'd be able to 
feel it move.

She went back to the camp and retrieved his clothes, 
washing them too so that they'd be clean and ready for 
him when he returned.  She hung all the wet clothes on 
tree branches and the sun dried them before it fell into 
the western sky, the cold air returning immediately as 
the sky went dark.  She folded the clothes and packed 
them away where they belonged, then climbed into 
Mulder's sleeping bag.  She breathed deeply of the smell 
of him and cried herself to sleep.

On the morning of the 12th day, he came back.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Somewhere in Vermont
October 31, 2000
7:15 a.m.

She hadn't slept well since the others disappeared, and 
after spending another sleepless night she was finally 
dozing lightly.  She wasn't too worried when she heard 
the first sound, and she remained wrapped in the 
sleeping bags, listening but refusing to open her eyes.  
Many times, she had woken in stark terror at some 
random noise and had been forced from her warm 
sleeping bag, only to find some small animal looking for 
food.  She was almost too tired to care at this point.

Then the noise stopped, and she was afraid.  It was no 
animal.

"Scully?"  His voice was weak.

She sat up with a start, fully awake now.  Oh, God.  Was 
she dreaming?

"Scully?"

Her heart was pounding as she flew out of the tent, and 
they just stood there, stupidly staring at each other for a 
moment before she thought to move toward him.  As she 
got closer, she could see that something was terribly 
wrong.  He had a tired smile on his face, but his color 
was a deathly gray.  He reached out for her, and she 
barely reached him before he collapsed.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Somewhere in Vermont
November 2, 2000

She'd gotten him up long enough to get him inside the 
tent.  He had a horrible fever, and she brought pans full 
of cold water from the stream to bathe him.  She 
examined him thoroughly, and though he was covered 
with bruises, he seemed physically unhurt.  Except for 
the sickness.

She'd had a real fight on her hands trying to bring his 
fever down, and he'd spent a horrible day and a half 
delirious with hallucinations.  He didn't know her much 
of the time, but called out for her in his sleep, a sad 
keening wail as if his heart would break.

He was weak and listless when his fever finally broke, 
but that was to be expected.  He'd smiled at her and 
eaten some soup, and he'd reached out for her hand 
afterward, running his thumb along her palm as he 
drifted back to sleep.  He'd slept all night and most of 
the next morning.

She was heating water at the fire when she heard 
movement and looked up to see him move gingerly out 
of the tent.  He stretched slowly and smiled at her.

"Mulder," she said, moving toward him and taking his 
arm.  "You should stay in bed and rest."

"I need to be upright for awhile.  Just for a few 
minutes."

She led him to the fire, and he sat with his back propped 
against a rock.

"How do you feel?" She poured tea into a cup and 
handed it to him.

He nodded, sipping the hot liquid carefully.  "Horrible, 
actually, but that's a step up from how I felt before."  He 
rubbed at one temple.  "I've got a hell of a headache.  I 
thought some fresh air might help."

"I'll get you some aspirin."  She started to rise, but he 
grabbed her hand and pulled her back down to sit close 
to him.

"It can wait, Scully."  He looked hard at her and reached 
up to brush the hair off her forehead.  "Are you all 
right?"

She smiled at him.  "I'm fine."

His hand moved from her face and he placed it against 
the roundness of her stomach.  He looked at her in 
amazement.  "How long was I gone, Scully?"

She took a deep breath.  "Twelve days."

"Christ."  He stared at his hand on her belly, then leaned 
in to kiss her.  "Thank you for taking care of me."

"I'm glad you're feeling better."  She squeezed his hand.  
"I'll get you those aspirin."

When she returned with the tablets, he was rubbing his 
temples with both hands.  She handed him the pills and 
he swallowed them with the tea

"You should go and lie down, Mulder.  Try and get 
some more sleep."

He nodded, his eyes screwed tightly shut.  Concerned 
that the fever had returned, she felt his forehead, but it 
was cool and dry.

"The headache's really bad, isn't it?"  She had stronger 
pain medication, but was afraid to give it to him in case 
he had a head injury she hadn't detected.

"I think I'll take your advice," he said, slowly getting to 
his feet.  He swayed a little and Scully reached out to 
steady him, then returned with him to the tent, settling 
him under the blankets.  

She sat next to him, rubbing his back gently, listening as 
his breathing evened out.  "You'll feel better after you've 
gotten some sleep."

He was asleep within seconds.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

It was still dark when she woke up.  Mulder had slept 
through the rest of the day and evening.  She'd stayed 
close to him all the time, fearing that he would relapse 
into fever again.  Finally succumbing to exhaustion 
somewhere close to midnight, she'd laid down beside 
him.

Yawning, she reached for him, but his sleeping bag was 
empty.

She found him by the fire.  He was sitting curled up into 
a ball, his fists pressed to the sides of his head, his 
breathing heavy as he rocked back and forth.

Terrified, Scully crouched down next to him and put her 
hand on his back.  "Mulder?"

With tears in his eyes, he turned to look at her.  His face 
was bathed in sweat.  "Scully," he whispered, barely 
able to get the words out.  "It hurts.  I can't stand it..."

She ran to her pack, hands shaking as she removed her 
small flashlight and the first-aid kit.  She was barely able 
to get the damned childproof lid off the bottle of 
Percodan tablets, and pills exploded everywhere when 
the top finally flew off.  She hurried back to him and he 
took the tablet from her with shaking hands, swallowing 
it dry.  He immediately started rocking again, his hands 
rubbing hard at his forehead.

Gently, she placed her hands on either side of his face.  
"Mulder, listen to me.  I know it hurts, but I need you to 
look at me.  Let me see your eyes."

Even this small attempt to focus was difficult for him.  
He groaned when the light hit his eyes, but she was 
satisfied that his pupils were equal and reactive.  
Turning off the flashlight, she fought her own tears, 
despondent to have to watch him suffer such agony.

A bowl of water she had used to wash in earlier sat close 
by, and she reached for it, dipping a cloth into the 
nearly-frozen water.  She moved to sit close to him, 
holding the icy cloth against his forehead.  "The 
medication should take effect fairly quickly," she 
promised, wrapping her arm across his back. 

Dropping his head to her shoulder, he let her hold him, 
his breathing fast and shallow.  She stroked the damp 
hair from his forehead, and he lay down, wrapping his 
arms tightly around her and laying his head in her lap.  
He continued to clutch at the pain and she stroked his 
face with the cloth, dipping it again and again in the cold 
water.

Finally, after what seemed endless hours, he fell asleep.  
She sat there for several more hours with his head 
resting in her lap, afraid that moving him would 
reawaken the pain.  She racked her brain, thinking of all 
the horrible explanations for the cause of such severe 
pain.  Any number of possible diagnoses ran through her 
brain, from infection to a brain tumor, and God only 
knew what had happened to him since he'd disappeared 
from camp.  He needed to be tested in a hospital.  And 
that, clearly, was not going to happen in the near future.

Finally, just as the sun was rising, he woke.  Turning his 
head so that he could look up into her face, he smiled 
sleepily.

"Hey," she said, smiling back.  "You look like you're 
feeling better."

He didn't say anything for a moment, then rose gingerly 
to sit up next to her.   "I do feel better.  I feel good, 
actually.  How long did I sleep?"

"A few hours."  She stretched a little, grimacing at the 
feel of her cramped muscles.

"I'm sorry, Scully," he said, concerned.  "I kept you up 
all night."

"It's all right," she said, reaching out to stroke his face.  
"It's worth it to see you looking so much better.  How's 
your head?"

He moved it a little on his neck, testing.  "It's fine.  The 
headache's completely gone.  You cured me."

"I don't know about that," she said.  "I want you to take 
it easy today, Mulder.  A headache that severe could be 
the sign of something serious."

"I'll make a deal with you," he said, standing.  He 
reached out for her hand and helped her up.  "I'll take it 
easy today if you'll go get some sleep."

"Mulder, I -"

He put a finger against her lips.  "Please, Scully.  You've 
gone a long time without enough sleep.  I know you 
don't want me to fuss about it, but you need to take care 
of yourself."

She sighed, admitting to herself that he was right.  
"Come with me, then."

He nodded, taking her hand and leading her back to the 
tent.  She climbed into her sleeping bag, and he lay next 
to her, pulling her close so that her head rested on his 
chest.

"What happened to you, Mulder?  Where were you for 
all those days?"

Mulder sighed.  "I remember the sound.  I didn't know 
where you were, and I was frantic, calling for you, but it 
was so loud..." He embraced her more tightly.  "There 
were bright lights.  I remember seeing Skinner come out 
of his tent, and then...the next thing I remember, I was 
walking into the camp, calling for you.  I was afraid you 
weren't here and I'd never find you."

"You were gone for so long, Mulder."  She spoke softly, 
her voice shaking a little.  He kissed the top of her head.  
"I kept looking for you.  I looked every day, for hours 
sometimes, but I couldn't find any sign of what 
happened to you.  Or to the others."

She was crying then, and he reached down to brush a 
tear from her cheek.  "When I first walked into the 
camp, I thought I'd only blacked out for a few minutes, 
maybe an hour at the most.  Then I saw your face, and I 
knew."

She looked up at him, a hand on his stubbled cheek.  
"Your beard hadn't grown.  It's grown since you came 
back, but you were clean shaven."  She tucked her head 
close under his chin and closed her eyes.  "Why do you 
think the others didn't come back?  Skinner was sick..."

"Shh," he whispered, rubbing her arm.  "Sleep now, 
Scully.  We'll find them.  I promise."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Somewhere in Vermont
November 4, 2000
4:15 p.m.

It was late afternoon when she woke up and she 
panicked for a moment when she looked over to find 
Mulder gone.  She smelled food cooking, though, and 
lay back down, listening for a few moments while he 
prepared food.  A moment later, the tent flap opened, 
and she looked up to see him crouched there.

"Hey, sleepy head," he said, smiling.  He sat next to her 
and held out a steaming cup of tea.  "This is for you.  
I've got some warm water outside so you can wash, and 
dinner will be ready in about half an hour."

Sitting up, she took the cup from him.  "Mulder, you 
shouldn't be doing so much - "

"It's okay," he said.  "I feel really great.  And it's about 
time I got to take care of you for a change."

She reached up, running a hand along his cheek.  "You 
shaved," she said, smiling.  Leaning forward, she kissed 
him, slow and gentle.  It was the first kiss she could 
remember them sharing that was completely 
comfortable - without embarrassment or self-
consciousness.  It went on and on, and then they held 
each other for a long time.

It was Mulder who pulled back first, and he cupped her 
cheeks with his hands, looking deep into her eyes.  "I 
love you, Scully," he said, and he smiled, a big smile she 
hadn't seen for a very long time.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Early the next morning, they began to pack.  They'd 
talked about what to do while eating dinner the night 
before, and Mulder had been anxious for them to get 
moving.  They'd been lucky with the weather - they'd 
only had one bad storm so far, but as the days passed 
and winter loomed closer it was unlikely that their luck 
would hold out for much longer.

They carried what they could and the rest was packed 
carefully away in the shelter of the rocks.  If any of the 
others returned, they would have shelter and supplies.

Mulder's intention was to stick with the original plan 
and head for the compound.  Scully hadn't told him yet 
of the conversation she'd overheard, and though she was 
fairly certain the real danger was the presence of Alex 
Krycek, the thought of going to the compound terrified 
her.

The hike seemed much more difficult than when they'd 
first started out several weeks before.  Mulder was doing 
remarkably well after having been so ill, but they'd been 
inactive for some time and were moving uphill carrying 
heavy packs.  By the time they reached the crest of an 
exceptionally brutal incline, Scully thought her back 
would break.  They removed their packs long enough to 
eat and take a few moments rest, then started out again.

It was early November now and the days were getting 
shorter.  By 3:00 there were tiny snowflakes floating 
around them, and the sky was a dusky gray.  They began 
to look for a likely place to camp when they came across 
the small cabin.

Mulder whooped with joy at the sight of it, and a quick 
search revealed that the place had been empty for quite 
some time.  It was dusty, but plastic sheets covered the 
few pieces of furniture and things were reasonably clean 
underneath.  There was no electricity or running water, 
but there was a stream close by and an outhouse several 
hundred feet from the cabin.

They settled in quickly.  Mulder found a large store of 
firewood and they soon had a roaring fire going in the 
fireplace.  The room warmed up almost immediately and 
cast the room in a cozy, comfortable glow.  Several trips 
to the stream had supplied the water that now heated in a 
large metal tub, and Scully was frying up two fish that 
she had managed to pull out of the water with a fishing 
pole they'd found in the closet.  It had been a long time 
since they'd eaten anything that hadn't come from a can 
or package, and the smell was mouth-watering.

After dinner, they took turns bathing each other in the 
warm water, then pulled cushions off the old sofa, piling 
them on the floor so they could stretch out in front of the 
fire.  Scully lay flat on her back, and Mulder watched 
her as she absently ran her hand back and forth across 
her swollen belly.  She was very obviously pregnant 
now, and he quietly worried about the how difficult it 
might get for her before they reached their destination.  
At the rate they were going, it could be many more days 
before they reached the compound.  If they found it at 
all.

She'd been quiet for a long time, staring into the flames.

"Scully?"  Propped on one elbow, he reached over to 
tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.   "What's wrong?"

"I've been thinking," she said, sitting up and turning to 
face him straight on.  "I don't think we should go to the 
compound, Mulder."

He frowned at her, confused.  "Why not?"

She just looked at him for a long moment, biting her 
bottom lip.  "Because I'm afraid something terrible will 
happen if we go there."

The whole story came out then - the conversation 
between Krycek and Marita, the fear that the baby 
would be taken from her and sold to the highest bidder, 
the knowledge that the child's blood might be the key to 
winning the battle against the Colonists.  She was dry-
eyed but trembling when she finished talking, and 
Mulder pulled her into his arms.

"Jesus, Scully.  Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I don't know."  She buried her head against his neck.  "I 
didn't know what to do."

"Scully," he said, rubbing her back.  "You can't keep 
things from me.  When you're afraid, or hurt, or sick, 
you have to tell me.  We have to help each other."

"I know.  I'm sorry."  She sighed deeply, relaxing into 
his arms.  "What are we going to do?"

There was a long pause before he spoke.  "We have no 
choice, Scully.  We've got to go to the compound."

She sat up then, looking at him in horror.  "Didn't you 
hear anything I just said?  I -"

"Scully, listen," he said, grabbling at her hands.  "Before 
we left Skinner's cabin, I was able to get word to the 
Gunmen.  If they were able to get out of the city, they 
may already be there, waiting for us.  We'll be careful.  
We won't go in until we find out exactly what's going on 
there."

"But how will we do that?"

"I don't know," he said solemnly, "but we'll figure it out 
when we get there.  I promise you, Scully, I won't let 
anything happen to you or the baby.  If it's too 
dangerous, we'll move on - find someplace else."  He 
kissed her hand.  "Trust me."

She closed her eyes and rubbed a hand across her face.  
Sighing, she opened them again and looked at him, 
nodding.  "You know I do."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Somewhere in Vermont
November 5, 2000
12:20 a.m.

She hadn't been too concerned when he first got up to 
take the aspirin.  He'd been feeling fine, they'd had a 
long hard day and a headache wasn't an unusual 
symptom considering the altitude.  He'd taken the pills 
and then returned to lie beside her.  Assuring her that he 
was fine, he wrapped himself around her and they'd 
fallen asleep in front of the fire. 

She woke several hours later to the sound of his 
footsteps.  He was just a shadow in the dim light of the 
fire, but she could see him walk over to the window and 
look out at the darkness.  Hearing him sigh quietly, she 
watched as he put a hand to his head before moving to 
one of the hard-backed kitchen chairs.  Propping his 
elbows on the table, he pressed his fists to his temples.

She came up quietly and put a hand on the back of his 
neck.  "What is it, Mulder?  Another headache?"

"God, Scully," he looked at her, the pain evident in his 
eyes.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't want to wake you."

"Did you take a Percodan?"

He nodded as he pressed the heel of his right hand to his 
forehead.  "Half an hour ago.  It's not helping."

"Where exactly is the pain, Mulder?"  Feeling helpless, 
she ran her hands along his head, wondering if she could 
have missed something when she'd examined him 
previously.

"It's all over.  It starts here, at my temples, and then 
spreads until my whole head feels like it's in a vice."  
He grimaced, sweat beading on his forehead.  "Oh, 
Jesus..."

He rose from the chair and began pacing back and forth.  
Stopping suddenly, he leaned over, hands on his knees, 
twisting his head back and forth in an effort to relieve 
the terrible pain.  Scully moved toward him, but he 
bolted past her, nearly knocking a chair over in his rush 
to get outside where he retched violently until there was 
nothing left in his stomach.

Guiding him back inside, Scully filled a glass with water 
and handed it to him.  "Here, rinse your mouth out with 
this."

He barely managed it, the pain so intense now that it 
took every ounce of energy he could muster just to stand 
upright.  She led him back to the kitchen chair, then 
dipped a small dishcloth in the cool water.  She managed 
to pry his hands away from his forehead long enough to 
place the cloth there, and he grabbed onto it, pressing it 
hard into his skull.

"I can't take it, Scully." His voice came out in a grunt. 
"It hurts so much."

Moving to stand behind him, she dug her thumbs hard 
into the taut muscles of his neck, massaging in tiny 
circles from his shoulders up to the base of his skull.  He 
groaned, but leaned back hard against her.

"Tell me if it's too hard," she said.  "I don't want to hurt 
you."

"No," he whispered.  "You won't hurt me."

He grabbed her hands then, guiding them until they were 
wrapped around the top of his head.  She pressed her 
fingers in hard, moving them back and forth through his 
sweat-dampened hair.  He moaned, moving his head a 
little to give her better access.

"Please, Scully," he groaned.  "More.  Press harder."

She rubbed hard in big circles over his forehead and at 
his temples, then back again across his scalp until her 
fingers ached.  He laid his head down atop his folded 
arms, and she massaged his neck again, kneading the 
skin there until it was red, moving down to massage the 
tight muscles of his shoulders.

He was quieter now and his breathing had slowed a bit.

"Is it any better?" she asked.

"Yes," he whispered.  "Thank you.  It's getting better 
now."  He raised his head from the table, picking up the 
cloth to wipe the sweat from his face.

Scully moved to stand next to him, brushing the damp 
hair from his forehead.  He looked up at her, then put his 
arms around her, pulling her close and pressing his head 
against her belly.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

She ran her fingers through his hair.  "Mulder, have you 
ever had headaches like this before?  Migraines, 
maybe?"

He shook his head.  "Nothing like this.  Never anything 
this intense."  He wrapped his arms more tightly around 
her. "Do you think they did something to me?"

"If they did, we'll find a way to fix it."  She continued to 
run her fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe 
him, stopping when she felt a tiny bump behind his left 
ear.  "Mulder, what's this?"  The spot was warmer than 
the skin surrounding it.

He reached up to feel it.  "I don't know.  Maybe 
something bit me."

"Does it itch?"

"No."  He looked up at her then, concerned.  "What do 
you think it is?"

"I don't know," she said, moving to pull the flashlight 
from her pack.

It was like she'd been punched in the stomach when she 
found the tiny scar, the skin around it slightly inflamed 
with the beginnings of infection.  She stared at it a long 
time, horrified by what it might mean.

"What is it, Scully?"

"I'm not sure, Mulder.  There's a very tiny scar.  It looks 
like two very small stitches."

"My God," said Mulder, rubbing his finger across it.  
"It's an implant, isn't it?"

"I don't know..."

"I've never had stitches there, Scully."  He stood up, 
walking the few feet to her pack to retrieve the first aid 
kit.  Handing it to her, he sat back in the chair.  "Take it 
out."

"Mulder - "

"Please, Scully," he begged, reaching for her hands.  "I 
don't want to walk around with that thing in my head.  I 
can't take another one of these headaches.  Please."

"But Mulder," she said.  "What if taking it out makes 
things worse?  We both know what could happen..."

"I'll take my chances," he said, his eyes looking hard 
into hers.  "I can't live like this."

She nodded, reaching up to caress his cheek.  "Okay."

It took no more than a moment to remove the tiny 
implant from just under the surface of the skin.  She 
wasn't equipped to do stitches, but closed the tiny wound 
with butterfly bandages, then covered it with a small 
piece of gauze.

"There was some infection.  I put antiseptic on it, but I 
want you to start on some antibiotics tonight.  We'll 
need to change the bandage in the morning."  She 
moved to sit next to him.

He nodded.  "Let me see it."

It was extremely small, no larger than the point of the 
tiny scalpel.  Mulder stared at it for a long moment, then 
carried it over to the fireplace and tossed it into the 
flames.  Scully joined him there, taking his hand as they 
both stared into the fire.

"Thank you."  He looked horribly sad.

"Maybe it wasn't meant to do harm.  It may have 
malfunctioned because of the infection..."

He didn't look up.  "Maybe."

"We should try and get some sleep."  Scully said, her 
voice gentle.  "We've got a long day ahead of us 
tomorrow."

He nodded, still staring at the flames, and allowed her to 
pull him into the small bedroom.

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