Headers and Notes in Part 1 Part 3 of 12 Bakersfield Chronic Care Home Arlington, VA February 21, 2001 5:50 am Scully snuggled back into the warm weight behind her, still more than half-asleep, and felt the heavy arm that was draped over her waist, a hand resting on the bulge of the baby. She was dreaming. In the dream, she and Mulder were together again. Sleepy and satiated in her bed, bodies flushed with the aftermath of pleasure. He was fully healed now, having been found in the woods of Oregon, dehydrated and weak, but otherwise fine. Healthy. His brain fully intact, all its functions completely normal. They were spooned together, her back to his chest, his arm around her and his hand cupping their baby. He was whispering sweet nothings in her ear, saying her name softly, telling her how happy he was about the baby. He interspersed his low rumblings with little kisses anywhere he could reach, sometimes sucking on her ear lobe. There was a very real snuffling noise near her ear, and then the feel of lips moving along the skin of her neck, almost nibbling. It made her shiver. She squirmed too, pushing herself more firmly into the strong body against her back, sighing softly. It felt so good. The sound of a low voice husking, "Scuh-leeee," sent arousal dancing through her body and had her dragging her eyes reluctantly open. Scully blinked rapidly in stunned surprise. She was not at home in her familiar bed dreaming very familiar and comforting dreams, but perched somewhat precariously on the edge of a hospital bed, Fox's hospital bed, with her bladder straining and her pulse racing. She realized two other things at once, which pushed out the thought that Fox had just called her 'Scully', not 'Day-na'. Fox's arm was around her middle, his hand touching her swollen belly, his body flush against hers. His entire body, from his head tucked in her neck to his knees behind hers and his long legs stretching past her feet. And one part of his body was more exuberant then the rest of him. A morning erection - a common, and for Mulder at least, usually a daily occurrence - not necessarily indicative of any amorous feelings or intentions, was pressing quite firmly into her backside. For the briefest of milliseconds she relished the contact, not moving at all, her eyes closing again, and inhaled deeply of the essence of Mulder, layered with the scent of hospital. Until the almost perverted nature of the act struck her hard. Although he looked like Mulder, felt like Mulder, smelled like Mulder, he was not her Mulder. Scully pulled quickly away, her back screaming in protest, and rolled awkwardly off the bed and onto her feet. The same blanket that had been tucked over her while she slept in the chair earlier was now puddled on the floor. Obviously someone had come in to check on Fox during the night, and decided not to disturb her, but instead to cover her with the blanket. She wished whoever it was had disturbed her. As much as she had enjoyed lying on the bed with Fox to help him sleep, and was glad it had worked, she had not meant to spend the night, or to wake in such an uncomfortable position. Her actions must have disturbed Fox, for his sleep-filled and somewhat grumpy voice said, "Day-na?" She spun around to face him, and in her confusion and distress over the difficultness of her awakening, made no move to cover her belly. In fact, it was not until Fox spoke his next words did she notice that she was no longer wearing her cardigan, and saw that it was on the chair. She vaguely recalled tossing it there at some point in the middle of the night after rousing slightly to the knowledge that she was very warm. "Day-na, how come your tummy is so fat?" Fox asked. He was propped up on one elbow, and had tilted his head to one side as he stared at her belly amply displayed in the v-neck styled tee shirt she wore. Talk about the innocence of a child. Baldly stating his curiosity without regard for her feelings. Scully glanced down at her belly a little self-consciously, one hand coming up to rub it gently. While she hadn't exactly thought out how she was going to tell Fox that she was going to have a baby, this was definitely not a way she would have chosen. She sighed and brought her other hand up to comb through the tangled mess of her hair, unable to think clearly enough to explain her pregnancy in simple terms. The baby kicked then, a direct hit to her bladder, and she felt the pressing need for the facilities once more. "Fox, I need to use the washroom," she told him. "I'll be right back, okay?" Fox nodded and dropped back down onto his pillow, his mouth opening in a wide yawn. One that had her yawning in just as wide a manner as she turned and headed towards the bathroom in Fox's room. Once in there she quickly relieved her bladder and then turned the taps of the sink on to wash her face and hands. While waiting for the water to warm up, she looked at herself in the mirror. It was as she had imagined. Hair wild and disarrayed, slight bags under her eyes, and smudged mascara as well, and a hint of shell shock still visible on her face. And a flush of embarrassed pink on her cheeks. Her mind recalled the feel of Fox's morning erection poking her rear end, and she had to admit she was thankful for her belly intruding. She was not sure if he would have questioned her about what was happening to his body, and if he had, how she would have replied. Crisis averted? She hoped so. For now, at least. During her training in medical school she had dealt with male patients who had presented with morning and other erections during examinations, and she had certainly witnessed some of Mulder's, and those of past lovers, but she had never had to deal with a young boy experiencing them. Words would have been difficult to find, to say the least. Feeling the hot water on her fingers, she ducked her head down and splashed her face a couple times before soaping her hands and rinsing off. Her teeth felt furry, so she grabbed the tube of toothpaste that was there and squeezed some onto her index finger. The scrubbing she gave her teeth was not the greatest of jobs, but it was better than nothing. She dried off with the hand towel hanging on the metal ring to the right of the sink, re-hung it, and taking a deep breath, exited the bathroom. Even from the distance of the bathroom doorway, she could see that Fox appeared to have gone back to sleep. Her shoulders relaxed at the brief respite, but quickly tensed up again when his eyes popped open as she neared the bed to collect her sweater. "Day-na? How come you're fat?" he asked, with all the persistence of a bull terrier, or Mulder with a puzzling X-File. Sighing, Scully shrugged into the cardigan and after removing the blanket from her chair, folding it neatly and laying it at the foot of Fox's bed, she sat down. Here went nothing. "Well, Fox, I guess I start by telling you I'm not really fat. The reason my tummy is this big is because there is a baby growing inside of me." She smiled at him, seeing how his hazel eyes had grown as big as saucers, and stroked one hand over the swell of the baby. "As the baby grows, it needs more room, so my tummy starts to stick out and look like it's fat." "There's a baby inside of you?" Fox said, his voice full of awe. "Really?" "Really," she answered, and her smile widened. He seemed fascinated more than anything else, and it made her wonder why she had been so afraid of this moment. The baby surged against her hand then, quite strongly, and she couldn't help the gasp that escaped. "Day-na?" Fox said worriedly. "What's wrong?" "Nothing's wrong, Fox," she hastened to tell him. "The baby moved, that's all." "Can...can I feel it too?" Warmth suffused Scully. Oh how she had longed to hear those words spoken by Mulder. Only it was not Mulder. The feeling of happiness that had been upon her ebbed slightly, but she rose from her chair anyway to climb carefully onto the bed. Fox shifted over and lifted his arm, where it hovered uncertainly until she took it gently within hers and brought it to her belly. She placed it palm down on the spot where the baby had just kicked and laid her hand down on top of his to hold it steady. Nothing happened at first, and she had to close her eyes at the sensations that were swamping her body. His big, warm hand on her stomach, his smell in her nostrils, the knowledge that his body was just inches from hers. If she could forget that Mulder had the mind of a child, they were just two parents-to-be sharing a moment with their unborn baby. Fox squirmed a little, his lower lip jutting out in that familiar pout, staring down at her belly as if willing it to move, so Scully applied a bit more pressure. They were rewarded by a rolling surge, which was followed by a pretty strong kick. Fox sucked in his breath and lifted his head to meet her gaze, his eyes filled with wonder, a huge grin on his face. Exactly how she had often dreamed he would look when he felt their baby move for the first time. "Wow," he breathed. "Does it do that all the time?" "Not always, no, but quite a lot," she told him, wanting to pull him into an embrace, or to feel his lips pressing gentle kisses along her belly which housed a growing life. She did not move however, just regarded him as steadily as she was able, her eyes damp at the corners with the beginnings of her tears. "Usually when I'm trying to sleep," she told him a moment later, in an attempt to lighten her somber mood. He giggled, and indeed the sound of his laughter did make her smile. The door opened then, admitting a nurse Scully remembered meeting several days ago, a tall, dark-haired woman named Ciara. Scully moved Fox's hand gently away from her stomach and placed it on the mattress, getting slowly to her feet. "Oh!" Ciara said, and then stated rather unnecessarily, "You're up." She advanced into the room, heading over to the bed. "The last time I looked you were both sound asleep. I tried to wake you last night, Miss Scully, but you were under quite deep, so I decided it wouldn't harm anyone if you were to stay." "I was very tired," Scully said, and fiddled with the buttons of her cardigan, the ends once again in both hands and drawn closed over her belly. "I need to get going now anyway." She turned back to Fox, who had a slight pout on his face again, and said, "I need to go home and get ready for work, Fox. I won't be able to come at lunchtime, but I will be here after your dinner, okay?" She reached out to touch the arm that lay on the mattress. "I'm going to bring a new friend too. Her name's Maggie, and I think you'll really like her." She had decided she was going to call her mother after arriving at work and ask her to come to visit Fox, which she knew her mother would do without hesitation, and then she was going to arrange to have the Gunmen and Skinner start visiting on a regular basis. She knew she could not maintain her current pace of coming every day, if not a couple times a day, and if he was entertained by other visitors, he might not feel her absence as greatly, or so she hoped. Fox frowned a little and then nodded. "Okay, Day-na." Scully hesitated, feeling embarrassed in front of the nurse, but leaned over and kissed Fox on the cheek. "Later, okay?" she whispered. "Okay." She was at the door when he spoke again. "I will miss you," he said. Surprise, distress and pleasure swelled almost as one. Scully turned and with a tremulous smile, said, "Me too." She got out the door and nearly to her car before the tears came. *** 5:50 am That sweet scent, the one that belonged only to Scully, teased at his senses, and he tightened his arm around her middle in reaction, feeling a surge of blood rush to his groin. All he could think of was the woman he was spooned around, her back to his front, and how glad he was to be back with her again. He refused to remember his time away from her, was glad that the memories were hazy and dark and hard to hold on to, flitting through his consciousness like fireflies in the night. He nuzzled her neck, at the spot just below her ear that always made her shiver and moan his name in husky, sexy tones, and was rewarded by Scully pushing her rear end into his lower body. His very happy to see her lower body. He groaned, "Scuh-leeee," into the flesh of her neck. There was movement on the bed suddenly, shaking him from his peaceful slumber. Fox startled awake, his head fuzzy with sleep and...dreams. The dark-haired man...but it was him...lying on a bed, wrapped around Day-na, kissing her neck, whispering her name. Pain flashed in his head, and he pushed the thought that he was the dark-haired man and Day-na was Scuh-leeee out of his mind, shutting his eyes again. There was another pain too, kind of like when he had to go to the bathroom really, really bad, only it was also kind of different. He did not understand it. He thought someone was there in his room, and blinked a few times, trying not to think of his pains. He lifted his head up a little from the pillow. She was there, standing by his bed, her back to him, making funny breathing noises. "Day-na?" Fox called out, moving up on one elbow to see her better. He was not sure if something was wrong with her, and it scared him a little. When he looked at her now, he forgot about the pain in his head and in the other place, his private place, as Thomas-the-orderly called it. When he said her name, Day-na turned around quickly, and the first thing he saw was her messy hair. The next thing he saw was her big belly in her tee shirt and no sweater. It stuck out a lot, and looked funny. "Day-na, how come your tummy is so fat?" he asked, turning his head sideways to look at her from a different way. Nope, she was still fat that way too. Day-na looked at her big belly too, and lifted one hand to rub at it. Did she have a tummy ache? Sometimes when he ate too much, his tummy got bigger and hurt too. But that must have been a lot of food to get that big. Her other hand came up and touched her hair, like she was trying to fix it. It looked all right to Fox, still such a pretty red, just not as neat like it always was. She sure seemed to like things all neat, because she was always fixing his hair too, and wiping his face when he got food on it. "Fox, I need to use the washroom," Day-na said then. "I'll be right back, okay?" He nodded instead of saying that, and with a big yawn, lay back down on his pillow, hearing the soft sounds of her footsteps as she walked away. He squirmed a little as he lay there, he had to go to the bathroom too, and his private place was still not right, but he tried not to think about it. He was not finished being sleepy yet either, so he let his eyes close again, and rubbed his cheek against the soft cotton of his pillow. The sound of a door opening just reached his ears. He knew it was Day- na coming out of the bathroom, so he didn't bother looking, until she got closer. Once her steps were by the bed, he popped his eyes open, to see her near the chair she had been sitting on the night before. She looked like she was trying to be quiet, and he thought she was going to leave and let him sleep some more. She hadn't answered his question yet, so he asked it again. "Day-na? How come you're fat?" He lifted himself back up onto his elbow, and watched as she put her sweater on and then folded up the blanket that had been on the chair and laid it on his bed. She sat down in the chair real slow, like it was hard for her to get down into it. "Well, Fox, I guess I start by telling you I'm not really fat. The reason my tummy is this big is because there is a baby growing inside of me," Day-na said, and moved her hand over her belly. "As the baby grows, it needs more room, so my tummy starts to stick out and look like it's fat." Fox was amazed. He had never really thought about where babies came from before, and had only seen the ones on TV and cartoons. Those ones were already crawling and making silly baby noises. "There's a baby inside of you?" he asked her. "Really?" He looked from her face to her belly, trying to imagine a baby inside there. Even though he had thought Day-na's belly was big, he didn't think a whole baby would fit in there. It looked like it would be awful squished. Still, he didn't think she was telling a joke; she looked too happy about it to be trying to fool him. "Really," Day-na answered, and her smile got even bigger. It made him smile. Until she made a scared/funny noise, looking down at her hand on her belly. "Day-na?" Fox said, and his voice was all wobbly. "What's wrong?" "Nothing's wrong, Fox," she told him quickly. "The baby moved, that's all." She didn't have that look anymore, so he relaxed, though his tummy felt a little funny. He was also very curious about the fact that she could feel it moving inside her. "Can...can I feel it too?" he asked. Day-na rose from the chair with a grunting noise that made him want to laugh, and moved onto his bed. He wiggled over closer to her, lifted his arm to put his hand on her belly, and then froze before he actually touched her. Day-na took his hand and put it down right in the biggest part of her belly, keeping her hand on top of his. It felt weird. Kind of hard, like the big rubber ball Mary Anne brought sometimes for his exercises and helped him roll back and forth on the floor. Not soft like he had thought it might be. He wiggled on the bed, staring at Day-na's belly. But nothing happened. It wasn't fair, he wanted to feel the baby move. Day-na pushed down on his hand a little, which made his hand press onto her belly. He thought it would hurt her or the baby and was about to pull away when he felt something. He didn't know how to describe it. It was like water or jello or something sloshing around, but different too. He did not have the words. And then it kicked him! Fox couldn't help the funny noise that came out of his mouth, and looked up at Day-na to see if she had felt it too. He felt like laughing, and smiled as wide as he could at her. "Wow," he breathed. "Does it do that all the time?" He could see why she jumped and made funny noises. It made him think of how his tummy sometimes moved when he had ate too much, as well as getting big, and how he didn't really like how that felt. Day-na didn't seem to mind though. "Not always, no, but quite a lot," Day-na said. She got that sad look on her face again, and Fox thought her eyes looked wet too, like she was going to cry. He tried to think of something funny to say, to make her tears go away, and couldn't. Day-na sighed a little and then said, "Usually when I'm trying to sleep." By the way she said the words Fox knew she wasn't mad about it, kinda like she was teasing, or maybe trying not to be sad. He imagined her trying to sleep with the baby sloshing around in her belly, and he couldn't help giggling. Day-na smiled then too, a really happy smile, and his tummy did that funny flipping thing again. Fox heard his door open, and looked up to see the night nurse, the one he liked, not the one who wasn't very nice to him when he had his bad dreams, coming into the room. Day-na moved his hand off of her belly, and got off the bed, and he was sad for a moment. He liked feeling the baby moving inside and hoped she would let him feel it again. He didn't really listen as Day-na talked to the nurse with the pretty name and wished they would hurry up. He really had to pee, and he was starting to get hungry. Day-na was looking at him again, so he lifted his head. "I need to go home and get ready for work, Fox. I won't be able to come at lunchtime, but I will be here after your dinner, okay?" She touched his arm lightly, and her hand was so soft. "I'm going to bring a new friend too. Her name's Maggie, and I think you'll really like her." A new friend? Day-na and Walter were his only friends besides Mary Anne and Thomas-the-orderly, and Walter didn't come too much, so maybe a new friend would be all right. He hoped she would read to him like Day-na, but not his favorite book. That one was just for Day-na and him to read. And if he didn't like her, he just wouldn't talk to her. Easy as pie. He wasn't sure what that meant, but he'd heard Arthur say it on TV when he had to do something. He nodded slowly and said, "Okay, Day-na." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, whispering, "Later, okay?" and his tummy flip-flopped again. He decided he liked when she kissed him. "Okay," he said, and watched her walk towards the door. He remembered that she had said she wouldn't be coming until after dinnertime, a long way away from now, and was sad. "I will miss you," he called to her. Day-na stopped at the door and turned to look at him. She said, "Me too," in her wobbly voice, but he knew somehow that it was a good kind of sad, not a bad one. After Day-na had left, Ciara came over with a big smile and said, "How are you this morning, Fox?" "I gotta pee." The smile didn't go away, but it got a little smaller. "Can you wait for me to get the orderly?" "Hurry." He watched as she ran from the room, wishing the day would hurry up too. *** Scully's Apartment Georgetown, D.C. February 21, 2001 9:50 pm Scully trudged wearily down the hallway and stopped before her door, hand digging in her pocket for her keys. She yawned widely, her eyes slipping shut momentarily, and finally grasped the cool, round metal of the Apollo 11 key chain to tug the keys free. Unlocking the door took two attempts, as her eyes threatened to cross with their exhaustion and made concentrating on the keyhole a challenge, but finally the door was open. Once inside, she dropped her briefcase on the floor, uncaring as to where it landed. She shut the door, re-locked it and slid the deadbolt home before shrugging out of her trench coat and tossing it on the back of the couch. Her shoes were kicked off and left to lie where they had fallen, like the briefcase and coat had similarly been discarded. She did not bother with turning on the small lamplight on the table by the door, she was not staying up and did not care if there were any messages or not, or whether the mail she had tucked into the outer pocket of her briefcase had not yet been sorted. She was going to bed. With a tired sigh she headed straight towards her bedroom, walking easily in the familiar darkness of her home. Once in her room she did turn on the lamp on her night table, more out of habit than necessity, and slowly stripped out of her clothes, sighing again as the waistband of her maternity pants was carefully eased away from her belly. She rubbed at the imprints on her skin as she walked naked to her bathroom, too exhausted to care about covering up with a robe, and was rewarded by a kick against her hand, which made her smile. "Hey, baby," she whispered softly, smoothing her hand in small circles over the spot last graced by a tiny fist or foot. "Take it easy in there." Flicking the light switch on, she grimaced at the flood of brightness and quickly completed her bedtime routine, emptying her bladder in what she hoped would be the only time that night, although she was not holding her breath on her chances, brushing her teeth and hair, and cleaning and moisturizing her face. Her last, and the most pleasurable item of this routine was rubbing lotion on her belly before donning either a nightgown or one of the tee shirts she had stolen from Mulder's apartment, and sliding into the cool sheets of her bed. But while pleasurable, each of those times was also poignant and bittersweet. For the hands that warmed and rubbed and stroked the lotion into the taut skin of her belly with a gentle touch were her own, and not those of her lover, and the father of her child. Scully closed her eyes and imagined it was Mulder now as she sat on the edge of her bed. That she rested in the cradle of his legs, her back to his chest, that it was his hands working the lotion over and into her skin with such care and tenderness. That she heard his voice murmuring his awe at the motions of their baby beneath his hands. The shrill ring of her portable phone tore her from her fantasy. Her eyes snapped open as her hands scrambled to pull her robe on before fumbling to her feet and over to her dresser. She reached out and picked up the phone, pressing the 'Talk' button. "He-hello?" she stammered, her heart pounding furiously. "Oh, Dana, it's Mom. I didn't wake you did I?" Dismay and regret, rolled with concern. "Um...no, Mom, sorry," she sighed into the receiver, walking back to the bed and sinking back down onto the mattress. "I was just getting ready for bed." She moved about awkwardly until she was lying on her side, the phone held to her ear with one hand, and the other cupped around the baby, who apparently had been stirred up by the gentle massage of moments ago and was now performing lazy somersaults. "That's good, honey. You looked exhausted tonight." Thanks for the boost, Mom. She thought the words but did not say them, for it was true. She knew she had looked exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes and yawns she had not been able to hide. She was actually a little worried about what the doctor was going to say at her next pre-natal check-up at the end of the week, and was preparing herself to hear what she had already admitted to herself – that she needed to slow down. And introducing her mother to Fox tonight had been the first step towards exactly that. "I know, Mom," she said into the phone, and then listened with half an ear as her mother took on a slightly lecturing tone and prattled on about her health. Not that she didn't appreciate her mother's love and support, or agree whole-heartedly with her, but her mom was reiterating actions she had already decided on, and she just wanted to go to bed. Her mind wandered. After leaving the nursing home very early that morning, still a little shell-shocked at her abrupt and unusual morning, to say the least, she had gone home and showered and dressed, and gotten to work earlier than had been normal lately. A surprise for John, who had nearly dropped his coffee when he walked into the office and saw her at her desk, already started on the paperwork that had been piling up through the week. She had taken a nice stroll at lunch, after a wonderful fresh fruit salad, and then called first her mother and then the Lone Gunmen to ask them about taking turns visiting with Fox. The call to her mother had been the more awkward of the two, her mother hadn't been able to grasp the severity of Mulder's dysfunction, and had asked questions Scully hadn't had the answers to. However, her mother understood a lot better now, after having spent several hours in his child-like company. Her mother's voice kicked in again. "Dana, I don't know how you've done it this past few weeks. I wish you had called me sooner to help you with Fox." Scully really didn't have a reply, so she made a non-committal sound, and hoped her mother would not press. Thankfully she didn't. "I'm just glad you finally did call me," her mother continued. "And I am quite willing to visit Fox as often as you'd like. In fact that's another reason I called. I was wondering if it would be all right if I went to see him at lunch time?" "Mom..." Scully had to stop for a second to sniffle, feeling her eyes well. Silly hormones. "Thank-you." "You don't have to thank me, honey. I love him too." Scully blinked, the tears miraculously frozen by her mother's words. "Mom, I never..." her voice trailed off again. Their relationship had been so new, so fledgling, before Mulder had been taken, that she had never told her mother, and afterwards it had just been too painful. "Dana, honey, you didn't have to. I could hear it in your voice and see it in your eyes," her mom said softly, her voice now a little on the emotional side. "I saw it in his too." Those simple words had the dam bursting. Tears formed and spilled down her cheeks, and she allowed them to run unchecked. "Oh, Mom, I don't know if I can do this," she wailed softly. "You can, Dana. I know you can," her mother said with surprising fierceness. "You're strong, and you'll be strong for Fox, and for that baby inside you." "But it's so hard, Mom," she said, gripping the phone tightly in her hand, the other still cupped around her belly. The baby, sensing her distress, was moving fitfully about, and her back was aching. She wished her mom was there with her, instead of miles away in her own home where Scully had dropped her off after their visit with Fox. She could use the comfort of her mother's arms around her, and knew she would readily supply a backrub. "I know, baby. I know," was her mother's soft reply. "I'm here for you whenever you need me, and from what you've told me, you have a very caring partner and boss willing to step in and lend a hand. You just have to learn to ask for their help, baby." It was true. John and Skinner both, not to mention the Gunmen, would do anything for her, at the drop of a hat. She just had to say the word. But that was the problem. Saying that word was very difficult for her. "I'm trying, Mom," Scully said, swiping at her cheeks with the hand that had been holding her belly. She sniffled again and stretched to grab a Kleenex from the box on her night table. She rubbed her eyes and then her nose, and put the used tissue aside to throw away later. "I love you, Mom." "I love you too, Dana," her mom said. "Now you get some sleep, okay?" "I will." "I'm going to visit with Fox at lunchtime, and then how about I take you out for dinner after work and we'll go see him again after?" "Okay, Mom, that sounds wonderful," Scully said, and taking a deep breath, realized her heart felt lighter. "I'll call you tomorrow. Good night." "Good night, baby." Scully pressed 'End' and laid the phone down gently on her night table before rising to don a pair of panties and one of Mulder's tee shirts. Sadly she had washed it several times since 'borrowing' it, and she could no longer smell him on the soft, worn cotton. It still comforted her though, to be wrapped in something that had once been wrapped around him. Turning the lamp off and throwing the covers back, she climbed into the bed, enjoying the coolness of the sheets on her overly warm legs, another side effect of her pregnancy. Her head sank into the soft pillow, her eyes sliding shut, and a yawn had her jaws cracking. She was so tired. Her mind was immediately filled with a jumble of images – some of Mulder and she, some of Fox. For some reason she pictured the two of them, and this time she was not sure if it was Fox or Mulder, lying on the narrow bed of the nursing home. His low voice husked, "Scuh- leeee..." in her ear. The thought that she had indeed heard his voice saying her name that way earlier in the morning was whisked away on the wings of sleep. *** Scully's Apartment Georgetown, D.C. February 27, 2001 6:20 am In fact, nearly a week passed by before Scully's memory was tickled once more. The alarm on her clock radio blared extraordinarily loud one weekday morning, pulling her from yet another pleasant dream where she and Mulder were once again wrapped together in replete bliss. His lips were buried in her neck, and as she arched her head back to provide him better access, he growled, "Scuh-leeee." As she reached out with one hand to smack the offending clock into submission, the word echoed in her head, and she had a vague notion that she had heard her name spoken in that bedroom voice not too long ago. That what had pulled her from her sleep that morning at the nursing home had been his use of her last name. Waking further, her hands knuckling the sleep from her eyes, she decided it was a fanciful thought, brought on by her continuing desperate hope that Mulder would awaken any day now as himself, and not as the boy he had become. She sighed and sat up slowly, feeling the pressure on her bladder increase substantially with the change in position, and pushing the thought away, got herself in gear. Within minutes she had relieved the ache in her bladder, brushed her teeth and climbed into the shower. She sighed gustily as she rolled her neck under the hot jets of water pulsing from the massager she had attached to her showerhead, letting it pound away the ache in her sore muscles. She must have slept funny, for not only was her back aching as usual, but her neck too. She only allowed herself a minute of this pleasure though. She wanted to get into the office early so she would not feel as guilty for taking a longer lunch to spend with Fox, something she had not been able to do recently. The days since she had brought her mother to visit Fox for the first time had passed relatively smoothly, with Skinner and the Gunmen taking turns visiting him as well, so that he was rarely alone. Except for the times when it was necessary, for his physiotherapy, and any other medical examinations, and during the night. He had adjusted surprisingly well, with only a few minor outbursts when he realized his Day-na had not come to visit him, but rather someone else, and had been placated fairly easily until she did arrive. It had been an enormous relief to Scully, for she had been extremely worried that he would not take well to the introduction of more 'friends' and a lessening of her visits. It had also sent a brief pang through her heart as she had thought about how easily she had been replaced in his affections. Until she had been able to recognize that it was not a deliberate action to hurt her on his part, but merely a sign of perhaps his maturity, and his growth emotionally. Scully smiled to herself as she rinsed her hair. Fox had taken a very strong liking to her mother, and looked forward to her visits as much as he did her own. Scully had managed to see him every evening other than the Friday past, when she had gone for her pre-natal check-up, and had spent almost the entire weekend there, with short breaks provided by her mother and the Gunmen. As she had expected, her doctor had been concerned about her general health, telling her she looked a little run-down, and that she had actually lost a few pounds, as opposed to gaining them. He had advised her to slow down, again as expected, and sent her for a blood test, to check her iron levels, as he had thought she might be anemic. She hadn't been thankfully, but he had reiterated his instructions rather sternly for her to slow down, and to watch her diet and to get more rest. Scully looked down at her belly, watching the soapy water streaming over her rounded flesh, and lifted one hand to stroke the bump softly. A gentle kick was her reply, and she smiled, saying, "I'm trying, baby. You just have to be patient with your mommy, okay?" Another kick, a bit more strongly, and this time she laughed. "Okay! I'll try harder!" She then shook her head, musing wryly to herself how Mulder would smile if he could only hear her now, talking to...She froze in mid-thought. The chances of that seemed impossibly slim. With an angry curse she stuck her face full into the stream of water, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. This kind of negative thinking would only serve to bring her down, and was not healthy for her or for the baby. One last quick rinse and she was done. She climbed carefully out of the shower, her sense of balance completely skewered now with the shifting bulge of her belly, and wrapped a fluffy bath sheet around herself for a moment to chase away the chill brought on by the cool air due to the bathroom door she had forgotten to close. Halfway through her morning routine, Scully heard the faint shrill of her cell phone, coming from somewhere in her living room. Having a vague recollection of tossing her trench coat, with the cell phone in one pocket, over the back of the couch, she stuffed her arms into the sleeves of her terrycloth robe and – she refused to admit she waddled already – moved quickly down the hallway. It had rang four times before she pulled it free of her coat and hit 'Send', gasping, "Scully," into the receiver. She was greeted by a burst of static, followed by a tinny rendition of John's voice. "Dana, it's John. The hospital in Bellefleur called." There was another burst of static, as he apparently paused, and Scully sucked in her breath sharply. "What did they say?" she asked, her voice rough, and her hand clutching the phone tightly with fingers gone cold. Since Theresa Hoese had awoken from her coma, they had asked that they be updated about any changes to any of the three returned abductees as soon as possible, regardless of the hour. "Ray Hoese came out of his coma half an hour ago." Scully swallowed, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment, her pulse pounding in her neck. "I'll be in the office in 45 minutes," she said, after a moment's silence. "Thank-you, John." She disconnected before he could say anything further, and laid the phone back down on her coat before turning and heading back to the bathroom to finish getting ready, moving almost on autopilot. Depending on what time they could get a flight, for even though they had learned nothing from speaking to Theresa Hoese, there was no way she was not going out to Bellefleur to speak to Ray Hoese, she might still be able to get to see Fox, if even for only a few minutes. She was glad she had not told him she was coming at lunchtime, having intended to surprise him by bringing a special treat, McDonald's, for this way she would not have to disappoint him. She made a mental note to call the Nursing Home and inform them of the change in plans, for she had to advise them in advance when she was going to provide a meal, so that they did not prepare one that would only be wasted. She also wanted to call her mother and see if she could visit Fox at lunchtime instead of in the evening. Fifteen minutes later she was impeccably dressed, in a fashionable and well-cut maternity pant suit, her hair blow-dried and tamed into a straight bob, longer than she had worn in the last year or two, with a light coat of make-up applied. Scully slid into her trench coat, tucked the cell phone back into her pocket, grabbed her briefcase and keys, and headed out the door. *** Bakersfield Chronic Care Home Arlington, VA February 27, 2001 10:40 am Scully smiled at Fox as they sat looking out his window, and couldn't resist the urge to ruffle his hair. The action made him duck his head almost shyly, and giggle slightly, which made her smile widen. She was so relieved he had taken the news that she had to go away for a day or two so well. His easy acceptance assuaged her guilt for having to do so, and at the same time, caused a measure of self-pity. A stray thought flickered through her mind - was this how a mother felt when she realized her baby was growing up and didn't 'need' her anymore? Probably, she told herself, and sighed internally. Fox was now talking softly to himself, another Mulder habit that had been hard to face at first, but had slowly become somewhat endearing, the index finger of one hand tracing the rocket ship on the cover of 'their' book, so she took the moment to just drift in her own mind. She recalled the events of earlier that morning after the phone call from John about Ray Hoese. After reaching the office in the avowed 45 minutes to find that John had stopped on his way in and picked up fresh muffins, she had eaten the simple and welcomed breakfast with him before going up to see Skinner. Within a half hour their 302 had been approved and they were waiting to hear about their flight details from Kimberley. An early afternoon flight was the soonest, so after speaking with Skinner, John had offered to pick her up at her apartment. She had thanked him, left the Hoover Building, and headed straight for the nursing home, where she had since been for the last hour. She had indeed surprised Fox, as she had originally planned to do at lunchtime, and they had gone for a short walk through the halls of the nursing home. She hadn't had to push the whole time, for Fox had been quite eager to show her his newly acquired skill - propelling the wheelchair forward under his own power, and he had been full of boundless energy. Which had been a bit of a blessing, for she was not. When they had returned from their walk it had been snack time, and a plate of fresh fruit had been waiting on his table. They had shared it, eating messily with their fingers and Fox giggling at being able to 'play' with his food. The scene had brought about a memory of Mulder teasingly shoving food in her mouth one late night a few weeks before his disappearance in Oregon, and the furious eruption of passion on her couch that had followed afterward. A trip to the bathroom had been required to gather her composure. Once they had cleaned up, Fox had asked her to read 'their' book, and she had readily complied, pushing his wheelchair over to what had become their favorite spot, by the window. The baby was restless, and she brought the hand that had been around Fox's shoulders down to rub her belly gently. A moment later Fox's hand was sliding beneath hers, his circles a little bit rougher but still loving, and she looked up to see him regarding her stomach with that same awe that had been there the first time he had felt the baby move. He touched her belly quite frequently now, more comfortable in the past week without first asking permission, and often drifted to sleep with his hand resting atop it. She moved her hand to help him move his with slower, gentler circles, and a moment later his head was nestling into her shoulder. They sat together like this for long minutes, Scully actually letting her eyes slide shut in a semblance of a catnap, until Fox spoke, startling her with both the sound of his voice in the quiet, and the topic. "Day-na?" he said. "Will the baby look like you?" Scully held silent for a moment, wondering where his question had come from all of a sudden. "It might," she replied slowly, finally. "You look like Maggie," was his next sentence, after a pause. A picture of her mother popped in her head, and the voices of relatives who had commented on that same fact, although she herself had never really seen it. True she and her mother were both of a small stature, and had blue eyes, but she had always thought she took more after Ahab then her mother. "Do you think so?" she asked, still not sure where he was going with the conversation. "Uh-huh," he answered, nodding his head against her shoulder. Another pause, and then, "She's your Mom, right?" A flicker of an idea as to the whys of this particular topic was forming in her head, and her heart rate sped up a little. Beyond those first words he had spoken to her when he had come out of his coma, asking her if she was his mom, they had not talked about his parentage at all. He had never asked, and she had never brought it up, afraid to have to be the one to tell him that his parents were dead. When she had introduced her mother to Fox, she had merely said the name 'Maggie'. "Day-na?" he prompted. "She's your Mom, right?" "Yes, Maggie is my mom, Fox," she said softly. I am not ready for this, she thought silently, a little panicked. "Oh." Just that one word, without inflection. She was not sure what to make of it, or of what else she could say. He was staring fixedly at her belly, possibly avoiding her gaze as she looked down at him, and his hand continued to smooth over her belly, chasing the bumps and ripples as the baby moved. "Will your Dad come to visit me?" he asked after a long, and to Scully, awkward silence. She had to clear her throat before replying, feeling it suddenly clogged with tears as the next picture in her head was of Ahab the last time she had seen him, in her apartment. "No, Fox, he won't be visiting you. He...uh...he isn't with us anymore." "Is he dead?" Fox asked next. She wondered how the concept of death had entered his mind, and whether he understood it as the question implied he did, and then she thought of how precocious he had begun to seem lately, and how extremely intelligent he had been as an adult. It would probably stand to reason that he had been a very intelligent child as well. "Yes, he's dead," she said huskily. "Are...are my mom and dad dead too?" This time his words were a whisper. Oh God. She really did not want to do this. But she had to; she would not lie to him. "Ye-," again she had to clear her throat in order to continue. "Yes they are, Fox." Once again his only reply was a whisper, "Oh." Unable to see his face, or to hear much in his voice, she lifted her hand to touch his chin and tip his face upwards, to hers. There was some resistance, but he did meet her gaze. His hazel eyes were sad, and liquid with tears. The ones that had been gathered in the back of her throat sprang to her eyes, and she blinked to clear them. "Oh, Fox..." she started to say, and was interrupted by the door opening. They both jerked in surprise, and Scully quickly swiped a hand at the tears, seeing out of the corner of one eye that Fox was knuckling both of his, before turning to look at the door. Mary Anne was entering, carrying the exercise mat that Fox used for his physiotherapy. She hesitated slightly when she saw them, and said a quiet hello. Scully flicked a glance at her watch, and was surprised at how much time had passed. She had to leave, and was loathe to do so. She was not sure how he was feeling, and worried about how he would be. And, she was ashamed to admit, she was also a little relieved that their conversation had to be halted. For now, because she had a feeling it was not finished yet. "Fox," she said softly, after a brief smile to Mary Anne who had continued on into the room, "I have to go now. For work, like I told you." He nodded, sniffling a little. "I know," he mumbled, once more looking down. "S'okay." "Hey," she said, and touched her finger to his chin, again lifting his head so their eyes could meet. "I'll be back tomorrow night at the latest. And Maggie's going to come at lunchtime today." He smiled a little at this, and she felt just the slightest bit of pressure lifted from her heart. "I'll miss you." "Me too," he whispered, and surprised her by leaning forward and giving her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Touched, and very moved, her wacky hormones had tears rising anew, for a different reason this time. "Thank-you," she whispered, and kissed his cheek in return. She rose slowly to her feet, running her hand slowly and wistfully through his hair, and said, "I'll see you tomorrow, Fox, okay?" "See you," he echoed, and manfully maneuvered his chair around so that he could watch her leave. She did so quickly, saying a quiet good-bye to Mary Anne, and telling the physiotherapist she would be back later the next day. *** 11:50 am When Fox heard the knock at his door, he lost interest and forgot to help Mary Anne with the exercise they were doing, turning his head towards the door. His leg fell to the mat with a thud, which he barely noticed, too busy waiting for whoever had made the knock to come inside. He hated doing that kind of exercise anyway, because they made his legs hurt, and was glad when he heard Mary Anne say, "I guess that's it for today, huh Fox?" Oh, yeah, he was supposed to answer people when they talked to him, it was rude when he didn't. "Okay," he said quickly, looking at her for a second and then back to the door again. "I think that's Maggie!" The door opened then, and Maggie's head poked inside. "Is it all right to come in?" she called, and he saw her eyes looking around the room. When she saw him, she smiled, coming into the room a bit, and he grinned back. "It's okay to come in, Maggie," he called out, and sat up all by himself. Mary Anne patted him on the shoulder and said, "Great work, Fox." She squeezed his upper arm, and he made a fist with his hand and tightened his arm like she had shown him to make the muscle stick out. She laughed and tickled his ribs real quick. "You've been holding out on me, huh Mr. Muscles?" Her smile and the nickname told him she was joking, and that she was happy. He nodded, feeling very proud that he hadn't needed help to sit up that time. He hoped that soon he wouldn't even need any at all, for anything. Maggie came over, took off her coat and put it on one of the chairs at his table, and then pulled the chair out and sat down. "Hello, Fox. Hello, Mary Anne," she said. She also put a small purple-colored bag down on the table. Fox studied the bag, trying to see if he could guess what was inside. He wondered if it was a present for him. Maggie had brought some puzzles and the game Junior Scrabble the last time she had come to visit, but this bag didn't look big enough to hold another game or puzzle. She brought treats sometimes too, from a place she called the bakery, but those came in a little box tied with string. "Hey, Fox, I'm going to go get Thomas and we'll get you in your chair, okay?" Mary Anne said, touching him on the shoulder. He moved his eyes from the bag on the table and looked at Mary Anne, who was smiling at him. "Okay," he said, and watched her leave before looking back at Maggie again. Maggie said, "How are you today, Fox?" "I'm okay," he told her. "How are you?" Maggie had been teaching him about manners. Manners were talking to people when they talked to you, and asking them how they were. Manners were also saying please and thank-you and you're welcome. There were more manners, but those were the ones he remembered. He told her he was okay, because he was, even though he had been feeling sad before, from when he and Day-na had been talking about moms and dads, and when Day-na had left. He also missed Day-na, but knew she would be back as soon as she could. And he was happy that Maggie was here now. "I'm fine, Fox. Thank-you for asking," Maggie said, and her smile told him she was proud that he had remembered his manners. Mary Anne came back in, Thomas-the-orderly with her, and a few minutes later he was sitting in his wheelchair. Before Thomas could push him to the table, he put his hands on the wheels and did it himself. "Whoa, Sport, look at you!" "Hey, Mr. Muscles, good for you." "Oh, Fox, that's wonderful." All three of them spoke at the same time, and Fox sat there with a big smile on his face, glad that he had surprised them all, and that they were happy too. Thomas came over and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "I'll be right back with your lunch, Sport," he said, and Fox nodded. "Great!" he called after Thomas. "I'm starving!" Maggie and Mary Anne both laughed, and then Mary Anne picked up the exercise mat. "I'll see you later, Fox," she called, and he waved to her. "Bye, Mary Anne." He watched her leave his room, and then turned back to Maggie. She had gotten up and turned her chair back around so that it faced the table. She sat down again and pulled the purple bag closer to her. Fox sat up a little straighter, hoping to see what was inside. Maggie smiled at him, which she seemed to do a lot. "It's my lunch," she told him. "I thought I'd eat with you today." "Oh," he said, and his shoulders sagged back down. Maggie laughed softly. "Don't worry Fox. There's a treat in there for both of us too." He sat up straight again, wiggling in his chair, staring at the purple bag some more. Maggie brought really good treats. But he knew she wouldn't let him have the treat until after he ate his lunch. And he had to eat it ALL too. Thomas came back in, carrying his lunch tray, and Fox's stomach made a grumbling noise. Maggie laughed, and he giggled. In a few minutes everything was arranged in front of him, his napkin tucked in under his chin. Maggie got her lunch ready too, and he tried to see what kind of sandwich she had. She saw him looking and said, "It's peanut butter and jelly, Fox." "Really?" "Yes, really. I like them very much," Maggie said. She then leaned forward, like she was going to tell him a secret, so he moved his head closer to hers. "Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were always Dana's favorite, did you know that?" "Maybe when she gets back and the weather is a little nicer, you and Dana and I can have a picnic lunch outside. I'll make peanut butter and jelly for us all, okay?" "I'd like that," he said, trying to picture them outside on the grass, sitting down and eating their sandwiches. "So would I," Maggie said. "And I think Dana would too." She then folded her hands together in front of her on the table, and he brought his hands in front of himself too. She said a few words with her eyes closed, what she called a grace, and then it was okay to eat. Once everything was eaten and she had cleaned up both their messes, Maggie reached inside her purple bag. Fox started wiggling again, and leaned forward to try and see. "No peeking!" Maggie laughed, and he smiled and sat back in his chair to wait for the treat. She pulled out a plastic container with a blue lid, and the plastic was kinda fuzzy, so he couldn't see what was inside. She unsnapped the lid and then put the container down in front of them both. His nose twitched. He could smell chocolate and something else that smelled good, but he didn't know what it was called. He knew what they were though. Fox licked his lips. He loved cookies. "I made us some oatmeal chocolate chip cookies," Maggie told him and pushed the container a little closer to him. "Help yourself, Fox." He reached in and started to grab as many as he could, when another manner Maggie had told him popped in his head. It wasn't polite to grab your food, you should only take things one at a time. He looked at her quickly, but she was still smiling, so he took one cookie out and said, "Thank-you, Maggie." "You're welcome, Fox." She reached out and took a cookie too. He knew he wasn't supposed to eat so fast, but he couldn't help it. The cookie was so good, nice and soft and chewy, and still a little warm. "It's yummy," he said, through a mouthful, and spit cookie crumbs out when he talked. He knew that wasn't good manners, and ducked his head down. He swallowed the rest of the cookie and said quietly, "Sorry." "That's okay, Fox," Maggie said, and he felt her hand on his. "You just have to remember to finish it all before you talk, okay?" He nodded, and swiped his hand across his mouth to wipe away any crumbs. "Can I still have another one?" "Of course you can, Fox. I made them for you and me to share. Maybe we could see if Thomas would like one, or Katy. I can take the container to them later." Fox looked at the cookies, trying to count how many there were. Sharing was something else that made people happy, but he wanted all the cookies. Then he thought about how nice Thomas was to him, and Katy, and he wanted them to have some cookies too. "Okay," he said. "I'll eat two more and we can give them the rest." "That's very generous of you, Fox. And don't worry, I'll make more again." They finished their cookies, and then Maggie cleaned up all the cookie crumbs from the table. She helped him wipe his face and hands, and after that, pulled his chair out from the table. "Why don't you push yourself over by the window?" Maggie asked. "I'll get some books to read to you, okay?" Fox nodded happily, and did as she asked. She brought over two of the books Day-na had brought, but not their favorite one, and they read them together. He started to yawn while they were looking at the second one, and Maggie laughed softly. "All that work today wore you out, hmmm?" "Yeah," he said, and yawned again. "I'll go get Thomas," she said, and left. His eyes closed sleepily, the books on his lap, and he popped them open in surprise when he felt his chair moving. "Hey, Sport. You were falling asleep there. Let's get you to bed, okay?" Thomas said. Maggie came over after Thomas got him all tucked in. "I'll sit here with you for a little while, okay Fox?" He liked knowing someone was there when he was falling asleep, he felt...he wasn't sure, but he thought the word was safe. "Okay," he said, and closed his eyes. *** Bellefleur Hospital Bellefleur, Oregon February 27, 2001 4:30 pm (PST) For the entire trip to Bellefleur Scully had been weighed down by a strong sense of déjà vu. As the last time, their flight had been delayed and the weather was miserable - cold and rainy. The only thing different was the fact that the correct rental car was actually ready and waiting when they arrived, and she had gotten to eat not only breakfast, but lunch as well. And that she had been able to stop by the nursing home to see Fox before they left. John now competently drove the rental car along the rain-slicked roads; she had not argued when he had automatically went for the driver's seat at the rental lot, she had been too tired and achy from the flight to want to drive. She still was. Scully let her head fall back on the cushioned headrest, head turned towards the window, and her eyes slip closed. A gentle touch on her cheek had her turning her head and opening her eyes sleepily, expecting to see Mulder's familiar visage with his brow crooked and a twisted yet gentle smile on his lips because she had dozed off on him once again. When the face she saw was not Mulder's, she startled fully awake, and jerked upright with a frightened gasp. She blinked rapidly in stunned surprise, one hand at her heaving chest and the other curled protectively around her belly, for it was John, and not Mulder, leaning over the center console, the hand that had touched her still hovering in mid-air. He shifted back and held the hand and its twin up in the universal 'don't shoot' gesture and said, "Hey, take it easy. We're here, at the hospital." His eyes regarded her steadily, narrowed with concern and a hint of puzzlement. Scully huffed out a noisy breath, feeling her heart beating furiously against her hand, and managed to say, "Sorry. Fell asleep." She could not explain to him why she had reacted so, that only one person touched her like that, and he wasn't that person. John nodded slowly, and waited until she had unbuckled her seatbelt before doing the same and exiting the car. Arriving at the glass front doors that led into the hospital lobby, John pulled one of them open and stepped aside for her to enter. Once she had, he moved past her and strode quickly to the reception desk, where they learned Ray Hoese's new room number, as the man was no longer in the room he had been in with Billy Miles. Scully, who had followed on his heels, also inquired about Theresa Hoese, and they discovered she had been released almost a week earlier. The former abductee was still on the same floor though, and the feeling of déjà vu returned when at the nurse's station there they encountered the same nurse from last time, the blonde woman named Kris. She nodded as they flashed their badges, and informed them that another nurse was just checking his vitals on her rounds and would be finished in a few minutes. While they waited, Scully paced and rubbed at the near-constant ache in her lower back, her mind a curious blank. She was peripherally aware of John leaning with deceptive casualness against one wall and watching her with concern. She managed a smile for him on a pass-by, trying to convey that she was fine, and saw him nod once in affirmation, his gaze shifting away from her. Kris called them finally, after Scully had made several trips back and forth, her low heels clicking faintly on the tiled floor, each one under his watchful eye, and told them to go ahead. John, ever the gentleman, took her elbow as they walked down the hallway to Ray Hoese's room. She did not pull away, oddly grateful for his support. One thought was now echoing in her head as they got closer and closer to their destination. Would it be another waste of time, another dead end? Within minutes she had her answer. Yes. Ray Hoese, like his wife, who currently sat beside his hospital bed clutching his hand in both of hers, remembered little beyond the circle of light in the woods. Scully thanked him quietly and left the room, leaving John behind to finish up, however he chose to, she didn't really care. All she wanted to do was get out, get out and get some air. She had gotten only a few strides from the doorway when a soft voice called her name. She stopped and turned to see Theresa Hoese standing uncertainly just a mere foot away. Frustrated and tired and scared, and wishing she were home, Scully arched an eyebrow and had to bite back the urge to snap 'what do you want?' Instead she asked, "Yes?" "Um...I was just...I was wondering how Agent Mulder was doing? Has he woken up yet?" Theresa asked. Scully blinked, her mind trying to wrap around Theresa's words. Had Mulder woken up? Why...what was she trying to do? Then Scully realized that Theresa had probably never been told that Mulder had woken up, and that all was not well. She sighed, bringing one hand up to rub at her temples, where a headache was slowly forming, and said, "Agent Mulder did wake up, yes, a few weeks before you did." "Oh, that's good," Theresa said. "Billy still hasn't, you know." Scully nodded. Of course she knew. She did not bother to tell Theresa of Mulder's condition, there was no need for the young woman to know, really. John came out then, and she was saved from having to make further conversation. He nodded to Theresa, and moved to stand beside Scully. "You ready?" he asked, touching her elbow lightly. "Yes," she answered simply, and turned towards Theresa again. She felt awkward, and was unsure of what to say. Finally she said only, "Take care." The young woman smiled a little shakily and nodded, before slipping back inside her husband's room. Scully stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space where Theresa had been standing. Her mind cried, 'why?' Why were Theresa and Ray Hoese awake and...and normal, and Mulder was not? John squeezed her elbow slightly then, and she jolted. Her nerves were completely frayed. "Let's go," he said softly and tugged gently on her arm. As they passed the nurse's station, Kris called out. "Agent Scully? I took updated copies of the charts for Ray Hoese and Billy Miles again, like you asked for last time. I have them here." John's hand slid away from her elbow, and he stepped over to the station and took the folders from Kris' outstretched hand. "Thank- you," he said, indicating the items in his hand, and resumed his hold on Scully's arm, once again guiding her down the hallway. He kept it there all the way to the car, and opened her door for her, waiting until she was securely in with her seatbelt fastened before shutting it again and rounding the front hood to get in himself. Somewhere inside of Scully's mind, her feminist side weakly protested her submissive-like behavior, but she wearily pushed the thought aside. It was actually a little reassuring to be taken care of, after being independent for so long, and hiding her weaknesses and self-perceived failings behind that mask of independence. She summoned enough energy and will to order her own dinner at the roadside restaurant John stopped at on the way to check in at their motel, and to eat most of what she had chosen. Thankfully John had sensed her mood, and did not try to engage her in small talk, or about Ray and Theresa Hoese. She let him handle the check-in when they arrived at the motel, the same one as last time, feeling again the sense of déjà vu as she waited in the still running car. She was glad when John got back into the car and handed her the diamond-shaped key chain with her room key, to see that they were not in the same rooms. That would have been too much, and it also would have been difficult to explain why she wanted another room. John hefted out their overnight bags from the trunk after pulling up in front of their rooms, and brought hers to her door. She thanked him, and told him she would see him at seven am, getting a quiet good night in return. Once inside she put her bag on the small dresser and removed her nightclothes and toiletries bag. Heading to the bathroom she carried out her routine mechanically and snapped out the light. She had not turned on the little lamp on the night table, and because of the gloomy weather, the room was cloaked in shadows. She left it that way, and crawled under the covers of the bed, shivering slightly as her feet met the cold sheets. As tired as she was, she moved restlessly on the lumpy mattress. The baby began its usual nighttime gym routine, and she shifted to lie on her back for a few minutes, both hands cupped around her belly, fingers spread wide. For some reason this made her recall how Fox liked to rest his hands like that on her belly, trying to ensure he would catch every movement the baby made, and she felt a wave of longing run through her. She missed him. She could not call him, but she could call her mother and check on how his day had went. Rolling onto her side with a small grunt, she reached out and turned on the lamp, propped herself up on one elbow, and brought the old rotary-styled telephone to rest on the mattress by her chest. It took a few minutes, but finally she could hear the ringing as the call went through to her mother's house. Moments later she was saying, "It's Dana, Mom." "Oh!" she heard. "Hello, dear. Is everything all right?" There was a faint hint of worry in her mother's voice, for she rarely called her mother when she was on a case or following up a lead. "I'm fine, Mom. I just called to see how Fox was today." "Fox?" her mother repeated. "He was...he was fine, honey." Scully caught the slight hesitation and pounced on it. "Mom? That didn't sound like he was fine. What aren't you telling me?" Her mother sighed, the sound loud through the long distance telephone wires. "He was, and is fine, Dana, I promise." She sighed again. "I was going to tell you when you got back." "Tell me what?" Scully snapped, and then immediately felt guilty, her face scrunching in a wince of apology, one her mother could not see. "Sorry, Mom. I'm just really tired," she said, much more softly. "What happened?" "After lunch, Fox was tired, and Thomas helped him get in bed for a nap. I decided to stay a little while, sitting by his bed. He seems to like when someone sits there while he's sleeping, you know." Scully nodded to herself. She did know that. Mulder had been like that too, able to sleep best when he knew she was near. "Anyway," her mother continued. "I closed my eyes to rest them, and I guess I dozed off. Fox must have had a nightmare, for he was thrashing about on the bed, and he called out, which woke me up." Scully was a little puzzled. Fox had nightmares; she had told her mother that before. A lot of children and adults had nightmares. She and Mulder could both attest to that. Or at least she could, she thought with negativity. "And?" she said, to prompt her mother to continue. "Well, Dana, I'm not certain, but I think he was calling out for you." That wasn't so unusual, Scully thought, and said so. "No, dear. I meant I thought I heard him call out your other name. I thought I heard him say Scully." *** Bellefleur Motel Bellefleur, Oregon February 27, 2001 10:05 pm (PST) A large warm hand glided up and down her arm, fingers tangling briefly with hers before stroking back up. This time it did not stop at her shoulder and resume its journey back to her hand, but continued up along her neck and into her hair, nails scratching at her scalp in that way that sent shivers down her spine. Scully sucked in her breath, back arching with the delicious sensation of his hand in her hair, which served to push her behind into his groin, spooned on the bed as they were. Mulder groaned and bent his head to suck at the flesh of her neck, just below her ear, and she shivered again, moaning his name softly. "You like that?" he murmured into her ear, and then traced the lobe with his tongue very lightly. Speech was near impossible, for his hand had left her hair and was once again gliding along her skin, only now it was in small circles over her smooth, flat belly and abdomen. Each circle brought the hand ever closer to the place she wanted it most. She managed a weak, "Uh-huh," and involuntarily bucked her hips upward, trying to entice his hand to move those few extra inches downward. Her action had him chuckling softly, sending another course of shivers through her. Turn-about was fair play. Scully reached behind her with her hand, and it landed on his hard, lightly furred thigh. The muscles there tensed and flexed at her touch, and then relaxed, and smiling to herself, she began to tease his flesh with her nails. He squirmed, and thrust his hips, his hardness nudging and sliding between the cheeks of her ass. Scully smiled, even as her she was pushing back against him to deepen the contact, her legs parting slightly to increase the friction, and barely held back a moan. She wanted him to be putty in her hands, not vice versa. With resolve she determined to forget about the fingers that were still teasing her and now circling and dipping into her belly button, and slid her hand up his thigh to his hip, squeezing once, before diving down to grasp his penis firmly, her finger quickly finding and tracing its head. He bucked in her hand, his fingers splaying across her belly and pushing her back into his body, and groaned in her ear, "Scuh-leeee..." "Jesus!" Scully lunged upwards in the motel bed, her heart pounding and her palms and forehead damp with perspiration. She was panting like she had just completed a mile in a flat-out run, and her mouth was dry. That had been one of the more vivid dreams she had been having lately, and now she could add feeling hot and bothered to her list of complaints for the night. She reached out, hand searching the surface of the night table, and found her watch. She brought it up to her nose, pressed the little button that illuminated the face and saw that said night was far from over. It wasn't even close to midnight yet. She groaned and sagged back into the lumpy mattress, one hand coming up to wipe the tangled damp strands of her hair of her forehead, the other dropping her watch back onto the table. She remembered tossing and turning on the uncomfortable bed some more after her telephone conversation with her mother had ended. Ended rather abruptly by herself, when her mother's words about hearing Fox say Scully had made her recall her dream of hearing 'Scuh-leeee', and she had hurriedly told her mother she would talk to her when she got home. She had disconnected after her mother's puzzled goodbye, and once she had replaced the phone on the night table, settled back in the bed, her mind in turmoil. As it was once again. Had her thoughts about remembering hearing Mulder/Fox say her name that way influenced her dream of moments ago? Had she really heard Fox say that, or was it merely wishful thinking on her part, prompted by her loneliness and despair? Scully sighed, a bit harshly, and then jumped a little at a particularly strong kick from the baby. Apparently Junior had decided since mommy was awake, he or she would be too. Her hand went down automatically to rub at the abused spot, her mind whirling. Obviously she had finally dozed off, despite her earlier thoughts that sleep would be impossible, and begun to dream. Hoo-boy, had she dreamed. That one had been a doozy. Her pulse and heart rate had finally resumed their normal pace, but she was still feeling residual tugs of arousal. She was also getting a little chilled from the sweat that had dried on her body, so she heaved herself up and off the bed with a grunt of effort and shuffled to the bathroom. The baby kicked again then, a direct hit on her bladder, seemingly a favorite target of late. Scully added relieving herself to her mental list, which included a quick wash, a drink of hopefully icy cold water, and fresh sleepwear. By the time she had finished, including two glasses of almost cold enough water, she was wide-awake. As was Junior, and her ever- persistent back ache. Rubbing at her back, she moved back to the bed and turned on the small lamp on the night table, so she could look in her suitcase for something to change into. She had only brought the one nightgown, knowing they would only be staying the one night, but she was pretty sure she had a tee shirt in there. When she crossed the small space to where her overnight bag still sat on the dresser, she saw the folders containing copies of the charts the nurse Kris had provided without request laying on top of the bag. She stared down at them, not even remembering bringing them into the room. She laid them aside and dug into the bag. She had indeed brought a tee shirt – one of Mulder's. With a tiny sigh she slipped the nightgown off, folded it roughly, and tucked it in the side pocket she reserved for dirty laundry on these short jaunts. She held Mulder's tee shirt in her hands for a moment, before another chill ran over her, and then pulled it over her head and smoothed it down over her hips. It didn't reach her thighs anymore, not with the bulge of her belly taking up a good portion of the soft cotton, and she felt rather naked clad in only the tee shirt and panties. Fortunately she had also packed a pair of sweat pants, which she put on next. As she turned to get back into bed, intending to find some TV show or old movie to hopefully fall asleep too, her gaze encountered the folders once more. A thought flickered in her mind; a memory of herself wondering about the abductee's charts after Theresa Hoese had awoken from her coma. Maybe she had missed something. And being wide-awake now, there was no time like the present to try and find out. Searching her briefcase quickly, she located the case for her glasses and pulled them out, sliding them over her nose. The folders were scooped up, and in moments she was sitting up with her legs crossed at the ankles, the charts at her side. The days of sitting cross-legged with limber ease were a fading memory. She rubbed her hand over her belly again, musing absurdly that she no longer had a lap, but a shelf instead. She picked the first one up and began to read. *** 10:45 pm (PST) Half an hour later Scully was still reading. Her lower back was beyond aching, despite the pillows she had propped behind her for support, and her eyes were blurring. She had not found anything yet, and was beginning to think that she never would. How many times had she read these files, from cover to cover, when the abductees had first been found, and not seen anything? What made her think she would find something now? Scully dropped the page she had been scanning and straightened a bit to ease her cramping back. Her lips twisted slightly as she thought, a hunch. A feeling. Dare she say a premonition or intuition of sorts? She chuffed out a sardonic laugh. If Mulder could only hear her now. If only. She sighed, feeling that familiar pang in her heart, and pushed the thought aside. Wallowing in her misery would not help Mulder at all. With that thought, she got back to the papers in front of her. She had started with Theresa Hoese's, as she had been the first to wake up with no apparent side effects of her missing time and her coma, and had worked her way through Ray Hoese's. She had barely started on Billy Miles' file. Scully tapped her pursed lips with one finger. No apparent side effects... There was something...something about side effects. She pushed the other folders aside and began searching through the file on Theresa again, mumbling under her breath. "Not side effects, exactly, but something...What am I looking for?" Her fingers stopped on the most recent CAT scan on Theresa, the one that had been performed the day after she had awoken from her coma. She lifted it up, bringing it close to her face, eyes running rapidly over the notes. Her lips moved as she read, until finally she was speaking out loud. "...no anomalies." Her hand dropped down to land on the bed beside her, the paper crinkling in her fist, and her head came up slowly. "No anomalies," she repeated, staring forward into the empty room. "No anomalies." She said it again, as if puzzling out the meaning to the words, her mind working furiously. Theresa Hoese had experienced abnormal brain functions, as had all the other abductees, including Mulder. How could there be no anomalies? Her hands searching through the remainder of the file were rough, a few of the papers sent flying to drift slowly down to the floor. She snatched up a report on the first CAT scan performed on Theresa, back when the abductees had first been found, and scanned through it quickly, until she got to the section that detailed the findings. There she read the words slowly, and twice more again, almost in shock. Scully's heart began to thud almost painfully in her chest. Upon admittance to the hospital when she had first been returned, Theresa Hoese had still been exhibiting signs of abnormal brain function. After awaking from her coma, there had been absolutely no sign of any abnormal function. At all. Her brain was completely normal. She placed Theresa's papers aside and found Ray Hoese's, already predicting she would find his tests to be the same. And they were. Billy Mile's file was next, the one she had just begun before her epiphany, or whatever you wanted to call it. Without bothering to read everything, she searched for his first CAT scan, and the most recent. On her request, the tests were run on a weekly basis on all three of the returned abductees, as they were also run on Mulder back home in Virginia. She read them both, and then searched for the others, eyes immediately seeking out the findings at the bottom. She held the papers tightly in one hand, head once again lifting to stare into space. While Billy Miles first scan showed the same abnormal brain function as Theresa, it appeared to have lessened with each subsequent scan. However, his scans still indicated various abnormalities and Billy remained in a coma. Theresa and Ray no longer exhibited these abnormalities, and both had come out of their comas. She remembered back suddenly to when she and Mulder had come to Bellefleur several months ago after the phone call from Billy Miles, and Theresa had shown them all of Ray's records. His brain abnormalities had been far more extensive than Theresa's, which could explain why she had come out of her coma sooner. Her heart was still pounding rapidly, and the baby had begun to jab and kick restlessly, as if sensing its mother's excitement. There had to be a link, she thought, between the coma and their brain functions. Oh dear God, was that it? Could it be possible? Could their brains actually be healing themselves while they were in a coma? Was that why Billy Miles was still in a coma? She held the records in her hand; his brain obviously had not yet finished healing. If this were so, then why had Mulder awoken before any of the others? And why was he...not normal? She had his file in her briefcase; she had taken to carrying it everywhere. Placing the other files to the side, she struggled off the bed, her back protesting mightily, and shuffled painfully over to the dresser, her hand rubbing ineffectively at the ache in her back. She pulled Mulder's file out and flipped through it as she moved back to the bed. She sat down on the edge, turning to the side and bringing one leg up to the mattress for some support, and found the CAT scan reports. Close inspection revealed that there were differences. The abnormal brain function was present in Mulder's first scan, like the other abductees, and while he had been in a coma, there had been some slight changes. However, since he had awoken, there had been no further improvement. The hand clutching the file fell to her side again, while her head began to pound. Her thoughts were whirling faster and faster, as her heart sped up once more. Theresa and Ray had seemingly healed in their comas and were awake and fine. Billy Miles remained in his coma, but his brain continued to heal. Mulder had awoken from his coma, with the mental capacity of a child, and his brain had ceased to heal. Scully's mind made a sudden and fantastical leap, one reminiscent of Mulder's amazing intuitive solutions that had astounded and boggled her so, and she gasped aloud. Oh my God. Could it work? She lunged to her feet, as much as a seven months pregnant woman with poor balance and a skewered center of gravity could lunge, and plucked the telephone receiver out of its cradle. Before she began to dial, something made her wonder about the time, and she picked up her watch. "Damn it!" It was too late to call, with the time change it was after two am. She would have to wait until morning. She put her watch and the phone back down, and turned to clean up the scattered papers. At least she would get to talk to Fox before anything was decided. She needed to ask him about his dreams. Once she had gathered up all the files neatly and returned them to her briefcase, Scully made what she hoped was her last trip to the washroom, and retired for the night. As she settled beneath the covers, her mouth opened in a wide yawn. Despite her excitement about her discovery, she was exhausted. Her eyes burned and her back had reached new heights in pain, but she knew she would sleep now. *** End Part 3 of 12