TITLE: The Genesis Project X AUTHOR: aRcaDIaNFall$ FEEDBACK: arcadianfalls@yahoo.com.au. RATING: PG-13, vague unpleasant inferences SPOILERS: The Unnatural CLASSIFICATION: SRA, M&S married, kidfic, alternate universe SUMMARY: Life is back on track following Erin’s recovery but the trauma has left an indelible mark. Mulder’s paranoia grows as a new case has him questioning the reality of their very existence, and every member of the family must overcome their own demons and find the strength to deal with the struggles of their extraordinary lives. AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wendy Matthews’ “Happy” is quoted from memory and probably inaccurate, but worth a listen if you can be bothered chasing it up. :) --> http://www.geocities.com/arcadianfalls// The Genesis Project X by aRcaDIaNFall$ - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - It was quiet. Erin was rambling, wanting attention, wanting to be heard. Scully was listening attentively, murmuring encouragement, chiding affectionately. I lay stretched out on the couch, watching as they sat on the floor surrounded by the fallen blocks of a wall they’d spent half an hour building together. Josh sat at the kitchen table, intently gluing together a model airplane. Astrid was still at school, staying late for a drama rehearsal. “No. No... Me, peace? Meeeeeee...” “You can’t have all the soldiers, Erin. Mommy needs some to protect her castle. Right?” “Mommy’s cassel?” “Yeah. Mommy’s castle is the one with red turrets, and Erin’s is the one with blue turrets, remember?” “And... the hawsee?” “That’s right, Erin’s castle has a horse. What noise does a horse make, huh? He says ‘nayyyyyy’, doesn’t he? Can you make a horsie sound?” “No.” “You can’t or you don’t want to? Huh?” Erin giggled, grinning, and snatched up the horse, making a growling sound. Such an amazingly clever child, so observant. Her vocabulary was literally growing by the day and far surpassed that of children months older than her. None of us could get enough of her. Spoilt, absolutely. Cheeky, and we encouraged it more than we should. Increasingly disobedient, which was more and more of a problem as time went on. She bit and pinched, not only in tantrums but also simply to attract attention. The biting had come and gone during her illness, but now she seemed to be doing it more and more and we were far less tolerant. Scully glanced at her watch. “Ten past. Oops.” She rose quickly, lightly ruffling Erin’s thin hair. “Can you get dinner started? I’ll go pick up Astrid.” I nodded and roused myself, moving over to the kitchen counter and grabbing her keys, dropping them into her palm, tilting her chin to meet her lips in a light kiss. Then I kissed my index finger and laid it on the curve of her stomach. She smiled, rolling her eyes. “I’ll be back in half an hour.” She got a little annoyed at me, sometimes, for obsessing over the pregnancy. With Erin so much better it had become the primary source of concern in the household, and though it was nowhere near as stressful as the leukemia had been, we all still felt that shadow of worry. ‘Holding our breath’ was how Scully put it. At twenty weeks along the baby was still developing, so vulnerable. The older it got the more certain we could be that it would survive, should something go wrong. Where the paranoid certainty that this baby was endangered had originated wasn’t so hard to see if you looked at our history. We all just knew that the sooner it come into the world, healthy and strong, the safer we would feel. The opposite of how most expectant parents felt, I imagine. I watched her go, then crouched on the floor beside Erin. “Hey Monkey, you wanna help me get dinner ready?” “Dinner!” Erin crowed, delighted by the idea. She grinned, scrambling up and running for the table. “Not so fast. We’ve got to make it, first.” I swept her up, sitting her on the kitchen counter and turning to check out the freezer. “Looks like we’re having meatloaf.” Erin pulled a face. “Noooooo.” “You gonna whip us something better up?” She gave me her poutiest frown and I chuckled, loving her spirit. “I’ll take that as a no.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - The traffic was good and I ended up being only five minutes late. Astrid was standing out front of the school hugging herself tightly, and I knew the second she looked up that we had a problem. She climbed into the car silently, tears coursing down her cheeks. She’d cried so much lately, always so tired, still not coping. “What is it, sweetie?” I asked gently, reaching out to touch her hair. She sniffled and shook her head, reaching to brush the tears away. “Astrid...” “Just tired,” she muttered indistinctly. She sniffed again. “Let’s just go home.” “If you want to talk about -” “I don’t want to talk about it!” she shot at me, a futile anger in her voice. She rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands and turned away, resting her forehead against the window. I watched her for several seconds, saw her body jerk with every sob, but right there and then I felt powerless to comfort her. When we got home I could give her a hug, but right now, in the confines of the car, it just wasn’t possible. Josh was curled up on the couch when we returned, his eyes glazed and lids drooping as he followed the news. Astrid went straight to her room, door slamming after her. I shrugged off my coat, my head starting to ache as I gazed at Josh. Gone were the nights of nine o’clock, even nine-thirty or ten bedtimes after he finished homework or a book. It was just past six and he looked half asleep. We were taking Erin to the clinic for her twice-weekly blood test tomorrow. Maybe we’d take Josh along, too. He seemed to be getting worse, not better. I felt Mulder’s arms slide around me from behind and I put my hands over his, tired myself. His embrace was a welcome invitation to let myself relax but I pulled away. There were still things to do. “Astrid’s upset. I’d better go check on her.” He nodded. “Dinner in twenty or so.” Astrid’s room was dark, the curtains closed and lights off. She lay face down on her bed, hugging her pillow, sobbing. I sat on the bed beside her. “I know how you feel, Astrid. I know what it’s like to feel as if you’re not coping. We’ve all been through something very traumatic and it’s not something easy to get over. It’s hard to get back to normal and just go on.” “You and Daddy have.” “What makes you say that?” “Cos you’re happy about everything. You smile and you laugh and cuddle each other and Erin. I can’t.” “You can’t what?” “Be happy.” She sniffed. “I try really hard but I can’t, I just feel all angry and useless and tired and just *sad*, and I try to think of something, just one thing, that will make my day worthwhile and I can’t think of anything. I hate school and I hate being at home and -” “Why do you hate being at home?” “Cos I have to put up with you and Daddy obsessing over Erin and the new baby and each other. You only have to so much as look unhappy for a second and Daddy gives you a hug and wants to know all about it. I can’t sleep and can’t stop crying and neither of you give a damn...” I didn’t reprimand her on her language, but instead reached for her and pulled her onto my lap like an unwieldy ragdoll. She sniffed, rubbing at her eyes, but made no protest. She was too weary for violent outbursts tonight. I hugged her, hushed her, rocked her back and forth. Astrid had never been a baby in my arms or a toddler on my lap and I think she felt that keenly. I refused to let her feel any less my baby girl than Erin. She wanted desperately to be grown up but just as badly needed to be a daughter, a child. “I don’t want to go to school tomorrow,” she muttered hollowly. I stroked her forehead, hushing her quietly. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. You don’t have to.” “I’ve got a stupid rehearsal. I don’t want to go... I just want to stay at home. Please, don’t make me go...” We’d dealt with similar pleadings before. Often we insisted that she go, that she’d made a committment. It was usually the right choice; her friends and something to keep her busy usually managed to perk her up. But right then I was inclined to let her have her way. She needed the break. “You can stay home tomorrow, if you come join us for dinner,” I compromised. Sniff. She nodded, then she crawled off my lap, pulling the crumpled covers back over her. “Call me when it’s dinner time.” Slow progress. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - Her confrontation with Astrid hadn’t been too successful, I could as she reappeared. “She’ll join us for dinner,” she announced, sounding grim. Was this just a case of obeying the whims of a moody, emotional teenage-mentalitied child? I wondered. Astrid was up and down like a yo-yo. How much of it was genuine and how much just dramatics? Even the psychologist within me had trouble discerning where the reality ended and the drama picked up. It was a fine line. She was an incredible actress. “She’ll come around,” I said easily, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “She’s just being difficult.” She nodded and changed the subject abruptly. “Dinner ready yet?” “Just out of the oven.” I almost laughed at the statement. Who was I, Martha Stewart? Although we did try to share the household tasks I still wasn’t comfortable in many of the roles. “Can you set the table?” “If you’ll go wake Josh up.” He’d actually fallen asleep. I shook him gently and he woke slowly, looking at me groggily. “Dinner time,” I told him. The poor kid was always tired. His blood pressure and iron counts were still low. Why wasn’t he improving? He should be fine by now. Even Jacqueline didn’t understand it. Dinner was a quick meal. Erin was talkative enough to compensate for Astrid’s sullen silence and Josh’s sleepiness and the meal wasn’t as awkward as it could have been, as some had been lately. The kids took off, and Scully sat feeding Erin her peas as I cleared the table. Erin protested every bite but Scully pushed on. Finally, the plate was empty and Erin ran off. Scully and I loaded the dishwasher. I found Josh had fallen asleep on his bed, an open book fallen to the side, his reading light still on. I switched it off, marked his place in the book and put it neatly away, and pulled the covers over him. He didn’t so much as stir. Astrid was curled up in front of the TV in wide-eyed absorption. Erin had finally quietened down and was sitting under the kitchen table, hugging her ragged pink blanket and flipping through a picture book. I got down on my hands and knees. “Heya, Monkey. How about I read that to you?” She crawled out from under the table, dragging the blanket, tugged me over to the armchair and sat herself in my lap. I hugged her, kissing the thin red curls on her head. She looked up at me with those baby blues, frowning, and stabbed the page with her pointer finger. “Weed!” she demanded. “Desso!” “Desso?” I echoed. “Adesso. It’s Italian for ‘now’,” Astrid called shortly, not taking her eyes from the TV. I didn’t know whether to tell her off for that or not. We’d encouraged the kids in the past to teach Erin as much as they wanted, but somehow I still felt we should put a stop to it. Surely it would only confuse Erin, learning to speak in half a dozen different languages before she could even speak english fluently? Though her vocabulary was nothing short of astounding, I still felt awkward about swamping her with languages. I let it go for now and turned back to the beginning of the book, starting to read aloud to her. It was a new book, a brightly coloured telling of the bible story of baby Moses, a present from Margaret. I felt awkward every time I read or even saw it; every time I looked at Erin, saw how healthy and full of life she was, the question pounded in my brain: Was it God? But I couldn’t just accept that it was. I needed some sort of proof. Despite what I’d told Scully I believed had brought Erin back, I couldn’t just have faith in this. There was too much doubt that I couldn’t just push aside. “Moses’ big sister’s name was Miriam,” I read aloud. -- was it God? Erin wriggled on my lap. “Miwwam?” -- what else could it be? “Miriam. See, that’s her there.” -- how would we ever know? I pushed the doubts away and read on, trying to focus on the words and no futher. We finished the book and Erin ran off, returning with another. Belinda The Ballerina, this one. Suffice to say it was far easier to read. Erin was getting sleepy as we read the book through for a second time and I got her ready for bed, carrying her into our bedroom airplane-style to say goodnight to Scully before tucking her into her crib. Josh’s poem was still pinned up on the wall above the crib, and next to it the headline article with the photo of just-revived Erin. Less than a month since the photo had been taken, it seemed a lifetime ago, but apprehension still stirred in me as I stared at it, my chest lurching with the memory of such indescribable pain. Bending to kiss Erin goodnight, I switched off the light and left the room, a little disquieted. I stopped in to tell Astrid not to stay up too late, then I returned to our bedroom, finding Scully still stretched out on her side, reading. I stopped, just to look at her, to rest in the knowledge that I belonged to her and she to me. It was soothing. “You going to just stand there all night?” She must have seen me out of the corner of her eye because she spoke without looking up. “What are my alternatives?” She glanced up at me, smiling, and she patted the bed beside her. “Get over here.” I obeyed, tossing myself down on the bed beside her, propping myself up on one elbow on my side and reaching an arm across her. She put the book down, always a good sign, and rolled over to face me, smiling sleepily. “What’s on your mind?” What had I done to deserve calling this woman my wife? She was beautiful in every way imaginable. Her mind, her heart, the frank curiosity in those blue eyes, the arched brows. And glowing now more than ever. Apprehension aside, I’d forgotten how much I loved going through pregnancy with Scully. She was blooming. “Just thinking,” I answered, smiling. “We get to us, finally.” Our day off had been part of a new deal we’d made with Skinner - the need to lighten our work schedule and spend more time with the kids had been something we’d been putting off for a long time. Erin’s too-close brush with death scared us into taking the step. To be honest, we’d thought that Skinner would reject the schedule we put forward, but he had barely glanced over the pages before nodding. “Just keep up with the work,” was all he said. And so we got every second Friday off, and three days in every fortnight we could leave an hour early. Not much, but it was a start. Every hour with the kids counted, literally. We’d learned that. “I know the hours you two have been working for ten years,” he’d remarked. “Consider this reimbursement for all that unpaid overtime.” It was what we’d wanted: more time with the kids. It had been a long day with Erin and although I’d cherished it, I’d missed Scully and the attention that I would have been getting had we been at work. But now, with Erin and Josh in bed and Astrid taking care of herself, we could finally focus on ourselves. ‘Us, finally,” she agreed. Wriggling closer, she kissed me. I returned the kiss but pulled away, climbing up off the bed. She frowned. “What?” I headed over to the door, which I’d left ajar. She rolled her eyes, watching as I closed it, checking that it was securely shut. Returning to the bed, I straddled her, kissing her, nuzzling against her, my hands against her bare skin as I started to ease her sweater off her. She let out a small cry of pain and I pulled back. “Tender,” she muttered in explanation, indicating her swollen breasts. I didn’t remember her having that problem when she was pregnant with Erin. That pregnancy had run smoothly. Lulling us into a false sense of security of what was to come, perhaps. “I’ll be gentle,” I promised. I touched her chin with my fingertip and met her open gaze. With the backs of my knuckles I brushed her lightly freckled cheeks. She was incandescent, her eyes a brilliant blue, her hair so soft and shiny, curling around her face. “You’re so beautiful.” She smiled, but it was wistful, worried. A tiny frown creased her forehead. Something was wrong. “What is it?” I prompted. She shook her head, giving me a gentle push. “Not tonight. I’m tired.” I nodded, trying not to look disappointed as I moved away from her. I missed her, missed touching her. She didn’t miss me? Rolling off the bed, she padded into the bathroom, closing the door after her. I lay on the bed, gazing at the closed door, listening to the water running. Was it fear for the safety of the baby that was holding her back? Was it just that she was tired? Or was there something else? I stripped down to my boxers, the pushed past her as she left the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I returned the bedroom was in darkness. I fumbled my way over to my side of the bed, peeled back the covers and slid in. “Mulder?” Her voice was small in the darkness. “Yeah?” “I’m sorry.” “Why?” She drew a sharp breath. “I just got scared, that’s all.” “About the baby?” “Yeah.” My eyes were adjusting to the dark and I could see her gazing at me. “I’m not angry,” I said gently, annoyed at my own insensitivity. “I thought maybe it would be okay but when you touched my breast -” “I understand.” She nodded. A short silence between us. “Okay. Goodnight.” “Goodnight,” I answered. We were rarely so awkward with each other. But talking about things had never been easy. That was where we fell short. She rolled over, facing away from me. I hesitated, listening to her breathing, listening to the traffic noises outside. I could hear, very faintly, the TV through the wall, whatever Astrid was watching. I went for it. “Do you think you’d be okay with me holding you?” A small sigh. Relief. “Please. I want you close.” I twisted closer to her, my arm around her, my body spooning hers. Touch. Warmth. She closed her hands over mine, close against her chest, and let out another sigh. “Is that good?” I whispered, digging my chin into her shoulder. So close. “Yes. Thank you.” And it was quiet. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - ASTRID POV - I went to bed after Frasier finished, thinking maybe if I got just a long stretch of sleep I’d feel all better, but I kept waking up during the night. First at midnight, then at two thirty, then at five and then again at six and just before eight. When I woke up the last time I rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, but I was only really dozing. I’d look at the clock, then close my eyes and feel like I’d fallen asleep, but when I woke up again it was only a few minutes later. So I just lay there, still feeling tired, just not wanting to have to get up. Why bother? I knew what would be happening out there. I could hear Mommy’s voice and Erin squealing as she played with her trucks. I heard Mommy and Daddy talking, then I think he went out. I didn’t hear Josh at all, but I knew he was around, somewhere. Mommy came in at nine, pulling open my curtains. “Time to get up, sweetie.” What did she think I was, a baby? I felt a bit angry at her, and then just depressed because I hadn’t gotten out of bed and already I was in a bad mood. It wasn’t like I meant to be in such a bad mood, it just happened. I couldn’t stop it. I stayed in bed til she left the room again, then for another couple of minutes just because, and then I got up. Erin had scattered her dumptruck’s load - Josh’s dominoes - all over the floor and I trod on one as I entered the living room. The sharp edges dug into my bare foot and I wanted to scream in rage and at the sharp pain. Instead, I brushed it off my foot and kicked it away from me, pushing Erin’s mess of things aside and curling up on the couch. Erin was always making messes. She was big enough to start tidying up after herself, I reckoned, but Mommy and Daddy and Kathy and Grandma and Duckie let her get away with anything. If I said anything they’d just pat me on the head in that stupid condescending way and point out that she wasn’t even two yet. Josh and Mommy were at the kitchen table working on a history assignment he had. I was watching cartoons but their words kept drifting over to me and making the TV hard to hear. I put the volume up, wishing they’d go away. I couldn’t remember the last time I got help on a school assignment. How come Josh was getting the attention? “Volume down a little, Astrid,” Mommy called, barely looking at me. I put the volume up two more notches, deliberately. This time she did look at me, but she didn’t say anything. It wasn’t like I was trying to be a horrible person or anything. I didn’t want to pick a fight with Mommy or make things hard for her. I just wanted somebody to do something to stop me from feeling so horrible inside. “Meep! Meep! Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!” Erin backed her truck up under the coffee table. That was the garage. She parked it there and climbed up onto the couch, climbing on top of me. “Ted?” She couldn’t say my name. ‘Ted’ was all she could manage. It was cute at first, but now it just felt silly. It was a boy’s name. It was a *teddy bear’s* name. “Astrid,” I corrected her. “As-trid.” “Ted...” she whined, pulling faces at me. She grabbed my arm and sunk her teeth into it, wanting attention. “Erin!” I pushed her off me, angry. She hadn’t broken the skin but it still hurt. She couldn’t just keep biting people like that. “Naughty! Bad girl. Bad!” The pout. The quivering lower lip. I could have hit her. I wanted to. “Mommeeeeeeeeeeee...” Mommy came running, swinging Erin up into the air. “Hey, sweetie, what happened? Did you hurt yourself, sweetie? Tell Mommy where it hurts.” “She bit me,” I announced, angry, shoving my arm in Mommy’s face. “I didn’t do anything to her, she just bit me.” Mommy let Erin down to the ground, brushing away Erin’s tears. She could turn on the waterworks any time she wanted, the baby. But Mommy held Erin’s chin, making Erin look at her. “That was a very naughty thing to do, Erin. You’re not allowed to bite. You hurt Astrid.” Erin did the pouty face again but Mommy looked stern. “No. I want you to be a good girl. Be nice to your sister. No biting, or you’ll get a smack.” When was the last time Erin got smacked? It would have to be before she got leukemia, and it had only happened once or twice. She hadn’t been so naughty before. But Erin knew the meaning of the word. Mommy’s stern face disappeared and she patted Erin on the head. “Why don’t you go collect all those dominoes, huh, sweetie? I bet you’ve got somewhere to deliver them to, huh?” Erin nodded vigorously, but as she turned away to get her dumptruck Mommy caught her arm. “First, though, I think you should apologise to Astrid. Don’t you?” “Nooooooooo,” Erin protested. She hated apologising. “Say ‘Sorry, Astrid’,” Mommy pushed. “Say it, Erin.” “So wee, Ted,” Erin apologised glibly, and flew for her dump truck, pushing off with a rumble. Mommy watched Erin go, then crouched beside me, reaching to take my arm. “She didn’t break the skin?” “No. Still hurt, though,” I added, almost wishing it had and was bleeding everywhere. I wanted her to be mad at Erin, to feel guilty about not caring. “I know it hurts. She’s bitten me, too. We’re working on breaking the habit.” “You’re not doing a very good job.” I didn’t mean to sound so sullen and nasty, it just came out that way. But I didn’t know how to apologise. Mommy just sighed. “I know. But we’re trying.” She pulled back a bit from me and stood up. “Why don’t you have a shower and get dressed, huh? Or at least have some breakfast.” “Can you make it for me?” I pleaded, trying to sound playful and wheedling instead of just whiney. I guess maybe I sounded whiney a lot these days. She half-smiled, tolerating it. “What do you want?” “Two pieces of toast, quartered, with lots of hot butter.” She nodded. “Go have a quick shower. Daddy’ll be back soon. We’ve got a bit of a surprise for you.” I felt hope flutter inside me. “For me?” “For all three of you.” I shouldn’t have been surprised. I mustered up as much of a smile as I could and nodded. “Okay.” I got up off the couch. “Don’t forget the toast.” She nodded. “I know how you like it, sweetheart.” At least she knew that much. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - “Kitty!” Erin shrieked, the moment Mulder brought the meowing box through the door. She flew at him, reaching for the box. I caught her arm and pulled her out of his way so that he could put the box down on the floor, opening the flaps. It was the first time I’d actually seen the kitten. Jacqueline had told us of a nurse at the clinic who was trying to give away an unwanted litter and we’d taken the plunge and agreed to get one. A pet of some sort had been on the agenda for a long time but there had been too much risk during Erin’s illness of a kitten passing on disease when her immunity was too low to fight back. This kitten was several months old and had already had all his shots. We weren’t taking any chances. It was a skinny little black and white creature with huge ears, huddling in the corner of the box, trembling as it looked up with wide eyes. Erin reached into the box to touch it but I pulled her back. “Astrid, you want to hold the kitten first?” Astrid, crouching on the other side of the box, looked at me suspiciously. “Me?” “Sure.” I thought maybe she’d be happy about the kitten but she scowled at me knowingly. She reached into the box, gently closing her hand around the shivering creature, picking it up and holding it against her, its weight supported. It clung to her sweater, letting out pitiful meows. She started to pat it and the meows subsided. Her face was guarded. Erin was beside herself wanting to touch the kitten. “Meeeeeeeeeee!” she shrieked. “Kitty for me!” “Kitty belongs to everybody,” I corrected her gently. “You can pat her soon. Josh is next.” Astrid lifted the tiny creature, putting it gently in Josh’s open hands. He held it out for Erin to touch. Remembering the encounters with Jacqueline’s kittens in Australia, I took Erin’s hand, guiding it to the top of the kitten’s head and through the patting motion. “Nice and gentle, sweetie.” Erin giggled in delight as the kitten, content cupped in Josh’s hands, began to purr. It was heartwarming. We could have never heard that noise again. What we had almost lost... We spent the next half hour or so all crouched on the floor, passing the kitten around, patting it. Finally, asleep, it was returned to its box and the box put on the kitchen counter for the time being, out of Erin’s reach. Mulder and Josh got the job of setting up a litterbox in the bathroom while Erin dug through the collection of catnips and balls that had come in the box, investigating them with the same innocent curiosity as I imagined the kitten would. Astrid was hanging back but looked tolerant enough so I let her be. But, as Erin and I were ‘checking on’ the kitten for the fifth time, Astrid jumped up. “I want to go to the drama rehearsal.” “You wanted the day off,” I pointed out. “Besides, sweetie, it started an hour ago.” “I don’t care. There’s still three hours to go. I’m supposed to be there.” “We’ve got to be at the clinic at ten to get a blood test for Erin-” “You can take her, and Daddy can take me to school.” “You sure you want to go?” “Yes.” Her chin was squared defiantly. I sighed. Let her have it her way. It wasn’t doing us any harm. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - She was almost lost in the mountain of bubbles but she loved it that way. They were a fortress and playground all in one and she always managed to spend bathtime so creatively that having to get out was always something worth protesting. I lifted her out, wrapping her in the enormous bathtowel and rubbing her dry, wincing at the scars that decorated her skin but always relieved to see such an otherwise healthy little body. No more the gaunt face and bony limbs, though her hair was still so thin, like baby fuzz. I pulled the plug and listened to the water gugling down the train as I tugged her pajamas on, which was never an easy task any more. She was still so full of energy, even at bedtime, bouncing around, squirming, protesting, wanting to play. I finished dressing her and swung her up onto my shoulders, her tiny fingers gripping mine trustingly, giggles errupting from above my head as I stretched to full height. She loved being up high. I swung around but my skin chilled as I caught a glimpse of our reflection. My reflection. Not me with a grinning toddler on my shoulders but just me, my face contorted in grief as I gazed out from the mirror before I dropped my head to my hands. “Da!!” A sharp pain. My hair felt like it was being pulled out by the roots. In that second my hands had slipped from Erin’s grip and fallen to my sides, unawares. She had kept her balance, grabbing clumps of my hair. Thank God. She could have been hurt. We couldn’t lose her like that, not now. I reached up, closing my hands around her wrists, blinking in panic as I tried to process what I’d seen, still stunned. The mirror now reflected the two of us, Erin pouting as she sat safely on my shoulders. I looked... as though I’d seen a ghost. I was shaking, I discovered. I let Erin down to my side, hugging her against me. She struggled in protest and I let her down to the ground, fingers trembling as I patted her on the head. She kissed my nose Astrid-style and ran out of the room. Pushing aside the pile of dirty clothes and damp towels, I sat, shaking, overwhelmed by the fear and disturbing sense of grief. It was as if I’d glimpsed how things could have gone, if we’d lost her forever. A vision of the road not taken. -- what if we *have* lost her forever? Doubts I’d been harbouring in my mind rose to the surface. What if she wasn’t really back? What if all this wasn’t real? What if this was some dream I was living, and what I’d seen in the mirror was the truth I was just denying in my mind? What if I was just hallucinating this in my grief, dreaming this as Scully and I huddled together grieving on the kitchen floor? The agonising pain of losing Erin flared up inside me, choking me, as raw as it had been those few hours we’d suffered. I’d wake up from this dream soon enough and find her truly gone, no miraculous resurrections or future, just this unbearable pain. I got to my feet, gripping the basin and staring into the mirror. My eyes were wide with horror. I was still shaking badly. Twisting the water on, I splashed my face, needing calm and clarity. Wet washcloth on the back of my neck. I threw back my head and yelled hoarsely for Scully. She came running, deft hands going to my forehead, tilting my chin. “What’s wrong?” I struggled to swallow, then even more so to speak. “What if she’s not real?” “What if who’s not real?” She frowned, glancing over me, fingers so kind and careful. Josh and Astrid had come running too and they hovered anxiously in the doorway. “Erin. What if we didn’t really get her back? What if we’re just dreaming it?” The concern in her eyes became sorrowful. She didn’t answer my question but instead pushed me back to sit on the edge of the tub, crouching on her heels watchfully. “How can we know that this is real?” I persisted. “How can we know that this isn’t just a dream?” “You’re panicking, Mulder,” she said gently. “I want you to try and calm down, okay?” She was concerned, so caring, but something else, as well. I saw the doubt in her eyes. “You don’t know either,” I realised. She got to her feet and shook her head. “No, Mulder. I do know. This is really happening.” “How do you know?” “I just know. This *feels* real. We’re alive, she’s alive, and this is real. Don’t doubt that.” But that panic still clutched at me. The possibility was in my mind and I couldn’t ignore it. What I had seen seemed so real. I felt my reflection’s pain. For that brief second I had been there and it had felt real, too. The road not taken? She rose and sat on the edge of the bathtub beside me, her hand on my back. “Astrid said to me that you and I had gotten over losing Erin, but she was wrong. We’re just keeping it at bay, dealing with it a little at a time.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - JACQUELINE POV - ‘I hope that you listen to the voices inside They know what you’re feeling, don’t push them away We all need deliverance from our disarray... But are you happy? Really happy? Three wishes were granted, but are you happy?’ The song broke through my sleep, stirring my consciousness. I opened my eyes, listening, trying to place it, then shuddered as recognition came to me. Oh God. I kicked back the covers and jumped out of bed, running out into my living room. ‘It’s hard to let go of all that you know....’ Wendy Matthews crooned. Ebony was standing by my sound system, CD cover in her hands. I pushed her aside, jabbing at the stop button, then slamming the open/close button with the heel of my hand. The CD slid out with a quiet hiss. I grabbed it and snapped it in two, tossing the pieces down on the ground. “Don’t touch my CD player,” I told her sharply. I left the room, about to return to my bedroom but remembering Graham still lying asleep in my bed. Instead, I locked myself in Noah’s room, fuming with anger, shaken by what I’d just done. Such an angry action was Graham’s style, not mine. Was this what he was doing to me? Barely six in the morning - it was still dark outside. I moved over to the crib, needing the comfort of human touch, but at the sight of Noah I shrank back, pacing restlessly instead. I couldn’t see Noah without seeing him in Graham’s arms or on his shoulders, grinning a gummy grin. I hated my own son for who his father was. Chilly in just my pajamas, I grabbed the biggest baby blanket and hugged it around me, settling down into the window seat with my feet tucked under me. The room was so dark, so quiet. Only Noah’s steady breathing, the occasional rustle of movement as he stirred. I drew my knees up and rested my head, closing my eyes. Hiding in the dark. This had to end, soon. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - I should have known the kitten would be a bad idea. Erin loved it from first sight, no question about it. But Astrid had been more antagonistic and bad-tempered than ever. We were constantly struggling against her - she refused to suggest any name for the kitten but went off in a huff when Erin and Josh agreed to call it Mister Tom. An hour later, wanting lunch, Mister Tom was following Astrid around the house, meowing pitifully. Astrid got mad and kicked the kitten, sending it skidding across the kitchen floor, according to Mulder who had seen it happen. She’d then stormed off, locked herself in her bedroom, and cried. Erin, watching her new pet scamper away in fear, also started to cry. That was Sunday morning. With the afternoon came the irrational demands. Astrid wanted a kitten of her own. No, she wanted a dog. She wanted to learn to drive a car. The last, and most ridiculous, was the one she got stuck on. I understood how badly she wanted adult independance and in her mind the freedom of a driver’s license seemed to symbolise that, but despite how unreasonable she and I both knew the demand was, she wouldn’t give it up. “Duckie can drive!” “Jacqui is older than you are.” “But I’m smarter than her!” “The law doesn’t care. You’re not old enough, you can’t drive. No more arguing.” “It’s not fair!!” In the end we simply avoided her. Josh had been smart enough to keep out of the way all day, though in his case it was more than just to avoid her wrath. Something was preying on his mind. He wasn’t eating enough or sleeping enough to get his energy levels back up and his body was suffering. How much longer should we hold out before starting him on medication? Despite my trust in medicine, I felt certain that we were wiser not to interfere with the working of Josh’s own body. That was what was holding me back when I wanted badly just to see the whole family healthy again. By late afternoon I was going crazy with Astrid’s moods. I announced that I was going to go visit Jacqui and escaped, feeling guilty about leaving Mulder in charge, but needing a breather to find the tolerance to deal with it all. I knew something was up when she opened the door. Instead of tossing the door open widely and letting me through with some casual comment and an offer of decaf coffee, the door was opened only wide enough for her to peer through. “Hey, Dana. What’s up?” “I could ask you the same question.” I gazed at her evenly, vaguely annoyed at the thought of yet another trauma in Jacqueline’s life, but also curious. She pulled a quick face. “You don’t want to come in. Noah just did the world’s smelliest diaper.” “I think I can handle it.” I reached to push the door open a little more. “I need to talk to you about Josh.” She hesitated, blocking my way. “It’s a mess in here, Dana. How about we go to a cafe or something? Or... better still, could you come to see me at the clinic some time tomorrow? I just really don’t have the time right now..” A sparkle on her finger caught my eye. I stared at the elaborate wedding band, recognising it and the engagement ring beside. “I thought you left them in Australia.” She was silent, apprehensive about something. The angry truth dawned on me and I pushed past her into the apartment. Graham was settled on her couch, casually dressed and barefoot, explaining some baby toy to Noah, the baby sitting wide-eyed on his lap. Ebony was at the piano, fingers perched on the keyboard as she scrutinised me before turning back and stabbing random keys. Graham nodded in greeting. “Hi, Dana.” I could have thrown up. Anger and disgust churning inside me, I backed up, grabbing Jacqui’s wrist and dragging her out of the apartment. “What the hell are you doing?” I demanded as she closed the door behind us. She looked away, nervous. How could she have allowed Graham back? After everything he’d done? After he’d been behind so much of her pain since the beginning. He could easily have even been the one responsible for Erin’s leukemia. I could have killed him myself. “I thought you put a restraining order out on him!” She’d always struggled with her weaknesses, but I’d never thought she’d allow this. “Dana -” she pleaded helplessly. I shook my head. No way. No compromises. “You can’t associate with him. You can’t trust him.” She opened her mouth as if about to protest but the door behind her opened. Graham appeared, an affectionate arm around her, kisses on her neck. I looked away, disgusted. “We’ll see you later, Dana.” Graham smiled wolfishly, giving Jacqueline a gentle push. Her eyes were to the ground, and only for a second as she turned to reenter the apartment did she look at me, numb pleading in her gaze. Why had she let him back? Was it that twisted need a captive had of their captor? She’d been miserable with him but even more miserable without, it seemed, if she were willing to put all the lies behind them. What could I do to help her? Did she want my help, or did she just want my acceptance of her submission to weakness? I set my lips together and headed toward the elevator. No. No compromises. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - Dr Theodore R. Goldstein was a small, precise man, quiet but authorative, settling himself in across the other side of my desk and addressing Scully and I in a calm, explanatory way as though we were patients, polishing his glasses as he spoke. “Among my patients in the Brochard Institute is a young man by the name of Edward Wright. He was admitted three weeks ago for manic paranoia following an arrest for trespassing and disturbing the peace. His story is about as bizarre as they get.” “What is his story?” Dr Goldstein cleared his throat apologetically. “He believes that aliens have disappeared his wife.” “Alien abduction?” “Not exactly. You see, he claims that not only his wife but all records and memories of her - his own, aside - have been erased.” Scully spoke up. “That sounds like a simple case enough of delusion.” “That was what I originally suspected. But after spending a substantial amount of time with Edward, I’m finding myself more and more convinced by his testimony. He holds an amazing amount of detail about Sandra - his wife - in his mind. I’ve listened to hundreds of delusional tales over the years but never before have I sensed such honesty and truth to the stories. He has an intimate knowledge of the woman and life he claims to have lived with her.” The file Goldstein had given us was open on Scully’s lap. “He’s a writer,” she noted, looking up. “A science fiction writer.” “A journalist, really. He writes factually about UFO sightings and UFO abductions... All based on first-hand interviews - fact. He doesn’t write fiction.” “But a writer is skilled in creating characters,” she argued, “in making a character as real as possible, so real that perhaps the distinction between real and created is blurred. That Sandra is only a figment of his imagination is no reason to hinder that intimate knowledge you talk of. If anything -” I interrupted her as the pieces came together in my mind. “Edward Wright... I’ve heard of the guy. He writes for Abductee magazine.” “He’s heard of you too, Agent Mulder. He was insistent that I come to see you.” “Why not call us himself?” “To be honest, that was my doing. I was afraid that if you came face to face with him you would dismiss him out of hand.” “Not much risk of that,” Scully murmured, glancing across at me. I tilted my head in acknowledgement, smiling inwardly. “He’s easily agitated,” Goldstein explained. “Unless you’re armed with the facts he appears... well, a little crazy. He’s under a great deal of stress.” “You believe him,” Scully observed. “So much so that you’ve come here. Why?” Goldstein gazed at her. “I was a practicing counsellor for fifteen years. I heard a lot of wives talking about the husbands, husbands talking about their wives. You get a vibe. I got that from Edward.” “You don’t think it’s at all possible that this is just the result of an overactive imagination fueled by science fiction movies and literature?” Scully doubted. “Of course it’s possible, but in my experience, I have to say it’s unlikely.” “Assuming that his story is genuine,” I countered, “how do you explain the phenomenon?” “If you’re asking if I believe Edward’s alien-interference theory, I have to say no. Although,” he added discreetly, “I understand from Edward that your own beliefs lean in that direction.” “Do you have a theory of your own?” “In all honesty, I can’t say that I do.” Scully was gazing at him curiously. “But you believe him? As a scientist, with no science to back it up, you believe him?” Goldstein nodded slowly. “I do.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - It was getting harder by the day to disguise my pregnancy. The days were starting to get warmer and as soon as Dr Goldstein left I unbuttoned my jacket, wishing I hadn’t worn such a thick shirt underneath. It was tapered and flared out enough at the waist to disguise my stomach, but not for much longer. We had to tell Skinner. It was just all a case of waiting for the right moment. I wondered if there would ever be a right moment. If we took too much longer there’d be no need for a verbal explanation. We’d promised to visit Edward Wright the following morning; they were medicating him heavily to keep him restrained, apparently, and we would gain nothing if we left the visit until later in the day, when the medication had kicked in. The afternoon was going slowly when we got a call. Mrs Preston, the kids’ school counsellor. She wanted to talk to Mulder or I about Astrid, preferably sooner than later. I still had some reports to fill out so I volunteered Mulder for the meeting. When it came to these things it was best to simply get them over with, so we’d learned from past experience. It was a quarter to three and Mulder had just left when security phoned down to request my authorisation for a visitor. Jacqueline Moss, they said. She was still using her maiden name. I wondered why. After the marriage she’d mostly referred to herself as Jacqueline Bell, though I wasn’t sure if she’d legally changed it or not. I told security to send her down to me in the basement and then I sat back and sucked in a deep breath, knowing I had to be tough with her. The minutes passed and I started to wonder. I was about to call admin to see if she was in the building when she appeared in the doorway. She was dressed in a beautifully cut pinstripe suit; she’d come from work, evidently. No sight of Noah, usually on her hip or in the stroller. Of course, if Graham was around, there was no need for her to use the clinic’s nursery.. She just stood there for a moment, wringing her hands, that look of near-tears, intense pleading in her eyes. I stood and gestured for her to come in. She obeyed, closing the office door and silently taking a seat, hands gripping the arms of the chair. I sat and waited. Finally, she lifted her face. “I know what you must think.” Her gaze was even but her chin trembled. “But you’re wrong. It’s not what it looked like.” I stared at her hard. “You didn’t plead for him to come back?” She hesitated. “Technically,I did.. but not for the reasons you think.” She put her hand to her mouth, chewing her nails as she stared at the carpet. Then she looked up at me. “Dana, he saved Erin.” The information didn’t sink in at first. “He what?” Truth confessed, her words rushed out. “I called him, pleaded with him to save her if he could. He said he had to think about it. I waited for days for him to ring to say that he had a way of healing her and that he’d do it but he didn’t ring... I thought that maybe this was how he was going to get revenge on me, by letting Erin die. Then he turned up at my apartment, that night that she died. That was why I rung to hospital, to check, to see if it was true -” “See if what was true?” “That he brought her back! I didn’t believe him but he said that he’d been flying back from Australia to help her, but by the time he got here she’d already died.” My throat had closed up. I struggled to clear it. “How did he bring her back?” “In his work they’ve been reanimating dead matter for years. His science is what most people would still call science-fiction.” “And you’re saying that he just went in there and brought her back from the dead?” She nodded, clearly relieved to have spilled the information, but still apprehensive. I thought over the ‘truth’ that she had presented to me. Graham had been the one who had brought her back? Was that the answer to the puzzle that had been taunting us the last month? I couldn’t believe it. It didn’t fit. “He didn’t go anywhere near Erin that night,” I told her quietly. “He didn’t go into the morgue. They’ve got surveillance tapes, Jacqui. Mulder and I have watched them hundreds of times. We’ve seen it from the moment they brought her in to the moment she woke up. He wasn’t there.” She shook her head. “He must have sabotaged the video equipment. Or maybe he was able to access the morgue freezer in some other way. Or - Or -” She tugged at her hair. “Dana, how else can we explain it? Something happened to bring her back. Somebody did something!” “I know that,” I conceded. “We’re all struggling to find that answer. But it wasn’t Graham. He wasn’t there.” “You can’t underestimate him, Dana. You know what he’s like. He’s capable of this!” She got to her feet, rubbing her forehead. I grabbed her arm. “Don’t go back to him,” I pleaded quietly. She looked at me wildly, pleadingly. “You think I want to??” “So don’t!” Chewing frantically on her nails again, her agonised eyes on me. Torn. “Maybe,” she whispered, uncertain. “If he did this, maybe there is some good in him.” “You know there isn’t.” I stood, touching her sleeve lightly. She pulled away, shaking her head, and headed for the door. “Jacqueline -” She stopped, shaking her head emphatically. “No!” She thumped the wall with her fist. “This can’t have been for nothing!” Again, the wildness in her eyes. She was desperate. “I can’t believe that.” Tears broke and she crumpled, sobbing, a pathetic figure. I crouched beside her, rubbing her back as she sobbed, trying to calm her. Pathetic and childish, and yet she’d put herself on the line for Erin. Graham coming back into her life was her greatest nightmare and yet she’d made that deal with the devil fully knowing how he would wield that power over her. I felt ashamed that I’d condemned her as weak when all along she’d committed such an act of overwhelmingly selfless bravery. How cruel that the deal be worthless, the sacrifice made for an empty promise. She pulled away, rising wobbily to her feet. “There must have been a way. He must have found a way of doing it, somehow.” I nodded. She knew as well as I did that she’d been again manipulated, but she still clung to denial out of self-preservation. I gave her a gentle shove toward the door, knowing that she had to prove it herself. “Go ask him.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - ASTRID POV - I was in German class when a kid brought a note in and Mrs Walsh beckoned me to the front of the room, telling me that Mrs Preston wanted to see me. I felt suddenly all funny all over as soon as I heard that. I hated seeing the counsellor. It was weird. I didn’t like being studied. She’d greeted me with a smile as always, asking questions about what we were learning in German, just trying to put me at ease. Then she’d started asking more specific questions, about whether I was keeping up with the work in each subject and if there was anything in particular I was having trouble with or any particular reason why. I knew what she was getting at and wished myself anywhere but there. I sat silently as she explained to me that my grades were falling, that if they didn’t pick up soon my scholarship would be revoked. I knew that she was right but it only made me angry. I didn’t care. It didn’t matter. I hated school anyway. “I know how smart you are, Astrid,” she told me. “I know there’s been problems at home that are still being straightened out. I want to help you with these problems.” I don’t want help, I thought ferociously. I don’t care about school anyway. I just want things to go back to how they were before Erin got sick, when we all got attention, when things were fair. The intercom buzzed and somebody announced that Daddy was here to see Mrs Preston. She told them to send him in, then asked me if I wanted to stay for the meeting or not. I didn’t want to sit through them talking about me, but I hated the thought of not knowing what they would say, so I nodded. Daddy smiled encouragingly at me as he came in, as if nothing was wrong, rearranging his suit jacket as he sat down in the chair beside mine. He was wearing the tie that I gave him last Christmas and when I saw it I felt like I just wanted to burst into tears. I felt guilty all of a sudden that he had to leave work and that he’d worry, and all because I just wasn’t trying hard enough. What would he and Mommy do if they gave my scholarship to somebody else? They couldn’t afford the school fees. I’d have to go to a different school. What would Josh do? Mrs Preston told Daddy the same things that she’d told me. She then went on to explain how understandable it was that something like Erin’s illness affect my schoolwork, and how important it was that I get support both at school and at home in order to keep up with the workload. She said that I still had unresolved emotions about Erin being sick and the stress that it had put the family under, and she suggested that I see a counsellor - either her or somebody out of school - to talk about it. I just sat there silently, not sure if I was angry or just sad, wishing with all my heart that the meeting was over. It was over, but not soon enough. By the end of the meeting the tears were prickling my eyes and I felt sure I was just going to burst. Daddy thanked Mrs Preston and said he had to get back to work. He hadn’t said much during the meeting and as we left Mrs Preston’s office I wondered if he was mad. But as he took me to my classroom he took my hand. I almost wished that he’d pick me up and carry me like he did Erin, but it still felt good to hold onto him. We stopped a bit down the hallway from my classroom. The corridor was empty and Daddy crouched down beside me. “We’re all still dealing with it. You’re not alone in this, Astrid.” He touched my hair and smiled kinda sadly. “Life is full of struggles like this. You’ve just got to keep fighting. I know you can do that.” All I wanted to do was cry and let him hug me, make him take me home right then and never make me come back to school. But he had to go back to work and I had to go back to class. I’d missed so much class. I hated it but I had to do it anyway. That was what adults did. I nodded and turned away from him, knowing that if I let myself cry I wouldn’t be able to stop. Already the tears were creeping up inside me again. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said, and he kissed the top of my head, adding, “You’ll survive, Astrid.” I pushed open the door to my classroom and went in, not letting myself look back. I didn’t want to see him walk away. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - I hadn’t told Mulder about Graham’s return. I don’t really know why I’d held off telling him. Hoping, I guess, that it would resolve itself and wouldn’t end up another burden on our shoulders. It was only as we drove home from work that I told him of her visit and confessions. Despite my distrust of Graham and the facts as I knew them, my flat-out skepticism had started to wane. What if it had been him? What if he had found some way of getting in and bringing her back? What did that mean to us? Mulder was frowning. “Is she going to confront him?” “She will. I’ve put doubt in her mind. She’ll need to know.” “What if she finds proof that he did save Erin?” I shrugged, not having an answer for him. We all wanted resolution, an explanation of why Erin had been brought back. But would we honestly be satisfied with any proof that Jacqueline could offer us? - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - ASTRID POV - I was watching Daddy. He’d brought two big shoeboxes out of their bedroom - there were stacks of boxes of all sizes under their bed, all filled with books and photos and old stuff - and he sat down at the kitchen table, peeling the lid off the first. He reached into it and brought out a handful of photos. Putting the pile down on the table he began to sort through them, one by one. I wandered closer, curious. “What are you doing?” “Mom wants the albums updated.” Mommy liked everything neat, all chronological and labelled. Daddy liked neatness too, but in a different sort of way. His neatness was *in* his chaos. Even if something looked like a mess he saw the sense in it. He knew exactly where everything was in the middle of disorder because it was his disorder, his mind. Mommy filed, Daddy piled, on coffeetables and his bedside table and the floor beside the bed and sometimes the bed itself. That drove Mommy a little mad, sometimes, the way he left stuff all over the house. It was one of the things that they still clashed on, that hadn’t mattered before when they’d been living apart but became a problem sometimes now that they had to share the space. It got them a little stressed with each other. Still, it could have been worse. It could have been a *lot* worse. I looked over his shoulder as he flipped through the photos, knowing that even without labels he could tell me all about the day each photo was taken if I only asked. They were mostly taken by him, though I tried sometimes to do arty shots. He was always casual with the camera and the photos were always candid and relaxed, though sometimes Mom or Josh went self-conscious on him. They weren’t of us posing stiffly in our best clothes - they were us being us. I liked that. He saw the truth in each of us. I watched as he grabbed a new bunch from the box and sorted through them, holding each one up and gazing at it for a good few seconds, sometimes longer, before putting it in a pile, either to keep in the shoebox or put in the album. I wasn’t surprised to see, as he went through the pictures, that for every ten of Erin there was only one or two of Josh or I. Erin grinning, Erin grinning again, Erin giggling, Erin laughing... Okay, so she was cuter than us. She was growing up fast. We’d almost lost her forever. Of course I knew why they were so desperate to document every moment, but a part of me - a big part - still didn’t like it. Daddy held up a photo for me to see. It was me and Erin in the hospital after she came back. We were sitting on her bed and she was trying to climb up onto my shoulders. I had my hands up to steady her and I was laughing as I looked up at her because she was so determined and stubborn about the whole thing. Erin - only three feet away, in the flesh, called out to me. “Ted! Tedddd!” I felt a growl of anger rise up in me and I pushed it down. Okay, so she wasn’t two yet. Why should I expect her to be able to pronounce my full name? But hey, she could say heaps of things perfectly. Why not my name? What was so hard about ‘Astrid’? Her fingers closed around my pinkie and she tugged. “See.” “See what?” She pulled me to the shaky wall of blocks she’d built by herself. “Hey, wow,” I acted all impressed. “That’s -” She threw herself at the blocks as if she were plunging into a bed of snow. The wall crumpled and blocks scattered. I half-expected her to start bawling but she was looking up at me, grinning. “See! All down!” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - The evening went calmly enough. Astrid played with Erin a little after dinner but then disappeared into her bedroom, leaving Erin in search for an alternate source of entertainment. Mister Tom had already learned that he was safest when out of Erin’s reach and was curled up asleep on the top of Josh’s wardrobe. Erin was running around the apartment searching for the kitten, growing more and more upset at not finding him. After almost half an hour of watching her search, Mulder swung Erin up into the air to see that her pet wasn’t lost after all, only sleeping. “See, monkey? He’s just having a nap.” “No nap! Play!” Erin cried, punctuating her words with a shriek, reaching out for the kitten. But Mulder let her down to the ground, crouching beside her and pulling her against him, tickling her. All thoughts of the kitten vanished from her mind. She grinned and giggled and ran off, pausing in the doorway to check that he was chasing after her. I was constantly amazed at what a happy child she was. The stubborn tantrums and pinching and biting spoke to lack of discipline, but that after all the suffering in her short life she was still so delighted by everything was nothing short of incredible. Putting her to bed always took forever, and Mulder and I alternated the three stories it took to get her to sleep. Light off, aquarium nightlight and baby monitors switched on, I told Josh and Astrid to start getting ready for bed. I left Mulder watching something on TV and was reading in bed when he came in, yawning. “Kids in bed?” He nodded, coming forward and climbing onto the bed. I wondered if we were going to repeat the other evening’s incident but he only wriggled up, snuggling against me, all childish. I smiled, amused, dropping a hand to fondle his hair but keeping reading. But it was clear soon enough that he wanted my attention. He lifted up my pajama shirt, gazing at my stomach with all the wide-eyed awe of a six-year-old. He reached with a finger to gently prod, then again, tickling me. I bit back a giggle, pushing him back, keeping up the facade of reading but watching him out of the corner of my eye. He pouted, wriggling closer, then he very carefully planted a kiss on my bump, pulling the pajama shirt back down, patting it in place. I put my arm around him affectionately. “You’re so goofy, Mulder.” “Admit it, you love it.” “I do.” I smiled, contented. He wriggled further up on the bed and touched my face. How did he still manage to look so young? I dropped my book and clasped my hands on either side of his face, drawing him closer to kiss him. He responded, gentle, his hand over mine, his lips moving to my cheek before he pulled away. “Ready for bed?” I nodded, letting him draw the covers up around me, tucking me firmly in, kissing my neck. He disappeared into the bathroom and I was half asleep when he returned, climbing into the bed beside me and snuggling against me. I loved how completely he held me, loved the closeness and security. I could sleep in the knowledge that he was there and always would be. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - It was quarter to one when Astrid came in. I heard the door squeak on its hinges as she let herself in, saw the shadow thrown as she hovered. “Mommy?” she whispered. She was crying. I lay there feigning sleep as Scully stirred and sat up, content to watch this unfold through half-closed lids. Scully drew back the covers on her other side. “Come here, sweetie.” Her voice was husky with sleep, tired but affectionate. Astrid climbed into the bed, sniffling. I heard Scully murmur soothingly as she held her, whispering reassurances. The school counsellor might be right but I knew what Astrid needed most was simply attention. I reached across Scully and laid my hand on the top of Astrid’s head in a silent promise. She might not know it but she had strength within her and we weren’t giving up on her either. She would survive. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - We were out early the next morning to see Edward Wright. A big man, he greeted us effusively, but it was evident enough that whatever he was going through was taking an enormous toll on him. He sat, twitching, gesturing nervously as Mulder took him through the story Dr Goldstein had told us. “You were arrested for trespassing. You want to tell us about that?” “I wasn’t trespassing.” “You were caught attempting to break into an occupied residence, 137 Harrington Way. How do you explain that?” “It’s my house!” “The owners are listed as Gerald and Roberta Munnadin. Do you know the Munnadins?” “No, and I don’t know what the hell they’re doing in my house! I’m telling you the truth - *I* live at 137 Harrington. My wife and I bought the house in July three years ago. We painted it all up, inside and out. I wired the whole house for internet access. I mowed the lawns every second Saturday for three years, for God’s sake! It’s my house!” “This record disputes that, sir.” Mulder had that curious look in his eye. He grabbed the file from me and skimmed through it, pouncing on a piece of information. “It was past midnight when you were arrested.” “I was at a bar. I got drunk - really drunk. I don’t really remember most of the night. I got a cab home about midnight.” “So the house was dark?” “Til all hell broke loose, yeah.” “You didn’t get a good look around?” “If you’re thinking I got the wrong house -” “That’s not what I’m thinking.” Mulder changed tacks. “Your wife, Sandra...” “If you’re about to tell me she’s just a figment of my imagination, save your breath. I’m not crazy, here. Something has happened to me, okay? It’s not all in my head.” “What is it that you think has happened to you, sir?” I asked softly. He rubbed his eyes, getting irritable. “They disappeared her.” “Who?” “*They*!” I met Mulder’s gaze. He half shrugged. “Ed - can I call you Ed? - None of the family or friends Dr Goldstein has contacted at your request have any knowledge or recollection of Sandra. How do you explain that?” “They changed their memories. They can do that. They take away the real memories and *replace* them. You know that they can do that!” That was directed to Mulder. I wondered how much Edward Wright did know about him. As certain as I was that I knew Mulder better than anybody, he was still a complicated man. I couldn’t always read him. “According to Dr Goldstein, he interviewed your mother - at your request - and her story, like all the others, was that you lived alone in an apartment on York Street. She took you and Dr Goldstein there. Do you remember that?” “Of course I remember that. I don’t understand it any more now than I did then.” “You had never seen that apartment before?” “No... well, I mean, yes. I had.” “You had?” “I used to live there. It was still pretty much the same as it was five or six years ago, before Sandra and I were married.” “So all your belongings, clothing - they were all there?” “Mostly. I tell you, they know what they’re doing. They’re experts at it. They don’t miss details.” “The aliens, you’re referring to?” Wright nodded. I glanced across at Mulder, who had run out of questions and was chewing on his lip. My turn. “Mr Wright, what was Sandra’s full maiden name?” “Sandra Janine Wessex.” “Date of birth?” “Eighteenth of May, nineteen seventy-one. I already gave Goldstein all the details. He checked for me...” “We just need to verify the facts for ourselves, Mr Wright. Now, what about your marriage - when and where?” “Getty Valley Baptist, November twelve, two thousand. Goldstein already checked the register. We’re not there. Don’t you get it? You’re wasting your time looking for documentation! There’s nothing about us. There’s just a whole bunch of lies about me.” He was getting agitated. We’d gone far enough, for now. I rose and gathered my notes. But Mulder stayed sitting, playing with pages of notes. Finally, he spoke up. “Why did you go to the bar that night?” “Sandy and I had a fight.” “Was that common?” “No. We never fought. She was always too good to me.” Mulder nodded, standing. I turned to make my way out but it seemed Mulder still wasn’t done. “What did you fight about?” he asked quietly. “Her job. She got offered a position in Boston.” “She wanted to move there?” “No. I wanted her to take the job. She said we couldn’t take it, because my mom needed us close to her. Since my dad died, Sandy helped me look after her... She never put herself first.” He was twitching again, more than before. Mulder nodded and thanked him quietly, following me out of the room, frowning pensively. I waited until we were out in the fresh air to ask, “Well, what’s the verdict?” “I think he’s for real.” I didn’t protest Mulder’s statement, but only raised an eyebrow, waiting for elaboration. Mulder’s reasoning never failed to fascinate me, how he could pull facts from nowhere and make the pieces fit. “There’s stories of such things happening, of people being vanished, all material evidence of their very existence disappeared.” “There’s *urban legends*,” I pointed out. “What about facts?” He took the notepad from my hands and held it up for me to see the names and dates I’d scribbled. “Let’s just go from here.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - We ran Sandra through the systems twice, first under Wessex and then under Wright. We came up with nothing. Ed was right - it was a waste of our time. We got contact addresses for Wright’s friends and family and spent the afternoon interviewing them, getting their version. They all told us the same story, filling in each other’s blanks. Edward was a writer for ‘Abductee’. He lived alone in a small apartment and drove a second hand beat-up Cadillac. He’d dated several girls seriously in the past but was currently single. He loved Star Trek and Star Wars and he played the drums. They’d never heard of any girl named Sandy. It was getting late by the time we finished interviewing his neighbours and we headed home, discussing the findings through and after dinner, comparing what we’d found with the detailed descriptions Ed had given Dr Goldstein. Some things were the same, some weren’t. “Look at this guy’s life,” Scully said. “You saw his apartment. You’ve heard what he’s like. He’s an imaginative man prone to fanciful delusions. He’s fabricated this whole other life, a better existence, and he’s lived it in his mind.” My mind was ticking. I knew it was more than just delusions. It was too real for that. I stared down at our notes, tapping my pen against the page. “It’s how Ed’s life would have been if he had made different life choices.” I summarised. “If he hadn’t married Sandra.” “Sliding Doors.” That remark came from Astrid, curled up on the couch. We’d assumed she was focused on the TV. I felt a surge of guilt at her input. We shouldn’t be discussing the case at home. We certainly shouldn’t have been working on it through dinner. It was family time. I hesitated for a second, awkward, then glanced across at her. “What?” “The movie. Time splits. Gwenyth Paltrow misses a train and ends up with one guy, catches it and ends up with another.” I stared at her, my brain changing gears. Parallel worlds. Could this be what I had glimpsed, the world where things had gone the other way? Some event that had forced reality as we knew it to split? But how did Ed Wright fit in? What did his life have to do with Erin’s near-death? Or were they not connected at all? How many parallel worlds *were* there? What did it take to cause a split? Was there a world created for every decision made? The thought was tremendous. Was there a world where Jacqueline hadn’t killed her parents? Where Scully had never been assigned to the x-files? Where she hadn’t recovered from her coma? Where she hadn’t been abducted in the first place? Where Samantha had never been taken? Where I had never been born? So many choices, some of them seemingly insignificant, had triggered chain reactions, resulting in vastly different outcomes. Where else could I be right now? Astrid shrugged, then turned back to the TV. I swung back around and looked at Scully. She was shaking her head. “That can’t be possible.” “Why not?” “That happened in a *movie*, Mulder. There’s no scientific basis for it. Besides, even if time *could* split in such a way and continue on two different paths, are you saying that the Ed Wright we’ve been talking to has somehow tranferred himself from one world to another? And even if he did somehow manage *that*, what happened to the Ed belonging to this world?” It was a valid point. I chewed on my lower lip as I thought it over. If there was another Edward Wright on the loose we would have discovered his presence by now. His family and friends would have said something when Wright called from jail or when Goldstein interviewed them. So was that proof, then, that Wright was just delusional? I couldn’t believe it. I had to go with my gut feeling. “What if some sort of swap was made?” I wondered aloud. “If these two worlds collided and somehow they were swapped?” “Mulder, now you’re sprouting science fiction. What you’re saying isn’t possible. There’s *no* basis, no proof. Nothing but the testimony of a man in a mental institution.” From her expression it was clear that that last sentence was all the proof she felt she needed. “It’s still a theory.” She stared at me, uncompromising. “Even as a theory it’s full of holes. Say you were right, Mulder - even *if* because of this Ed and Sandra never met in our world, she would have still existed, right? And she didn’t. We found nothing at all about her.” I tapped my pen on the page again. The theory felt right, but it didn’t fit. But what other explanation was there for these parallel existences? What if - “What do we know about Sandra’s parents?” “Her parents?” Scully flipped through the pages. “Uh.. According to Dr Goldstein, he couldn’t find any records of Hope Wessex, but he tracked down Sandra’s father, Lance Wessex, at Ed’s request.” “He talked to him?” “No. Lance Wessex died in nineteen sixty-eight.” “That’s before Ed claims Sandra was born.” “Which should prove to you-” “He’s the link.” “What?” I sorted the facts in my head, trying to get everything straight. What was that one event that had split time and sent these people on different courses? It had to be there. “How did he die?” She skimmed through the page. “GSW to the chest. He was a cop. Shot during a drug raid.” “I’ll bet that if we ask Ed Wright about it, he’ll tell us that Lance Wessex didn’t die from that gun shot wound, that he recovered and went on to have a child.” Her skeptical gaze held mine. “Sandra?” I nodded. She considered it. “Why couldn’t Dr Goldstein track down Sandra’s mother? He searched for Hope Wessex.” “Maybe they weren’t married at the time he was shot. Maybe they hadn’t even *met*.” “So she would have married somebody else... That will make her impossible to find, unless Ed knows his mother-in-law’s maiden name, and how many guys would know that?” “Delaney.” She glanced across at me, surprised, a smile curving her lip. “Oh, you’re good.” I returned the smile smugly and she shook her head, amused. “Tomorrow we’ll see Ed again and ask him if he can help us track her down. If Lance Wessex really is the link, then she maybe she can give us some answers.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - We put away the files for the night but I knew the case was still on Mulder’s mind. Even Erin couldn’t get his full attention; he was distracted as she danced around him blowing bubbles and throwing herself in his lap. The parallel worlds theory was one reason why I was glad to have given up for the day. I knew that his vision the other morning had been weighing heavily on him, that the concept of parallel existences intrigued him. It could easily become an obsession, I knew, and I didn’t like it when he got so singleminded. Josh put himself to bed at eight and I went to tuck him in, feeling guilty about involving myself so completely in the case. When was the last time I’d spent more than two minutes alone with Josh? “How was school?” He shrugged. “You’re keeping up with the work?” A nod. “Because it’s nothing to be ashamed of, if you’re not. You know Astrid is having problems.” “I’m okay.” “Good... So there’s nothing else that’s bothering you?” He was silent, gazing past me. “God,” he admitted, finally. “What about God?” “Do you think he saved Erin?” My turn to shrug. “I don’t know, Josh,” I answered honestly. “Maybe it was me... because of my blood.” “That she came back? Maybe.” He nodded soberly and rolled over, hugging the covers around himself. “Night, Mommy,” he whispered. I bent down to kiss his cheek, wishing that I could draw him into my arms, that he would throw a tantrum like Astrid and let it all out. You can tell me, I thought silently, knowing he could hear me. I’m here when you need to cry or want a hug or just need to talk. He was facing away from me but I could have sworn he nodded. “Night, Mommy,” he said again. I switched off the light. “Goodnight, Josh.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - JACQUELINE POV - Ebony was at the piano again. Her slow and painful playing was grating on my nerves and I thought I’d scream at her if she didn’t stop soon. I hated the piano. I hadn’t touched it since I’d left for Australia with Graham. It was nauseating enough putting up with Graham’s presence; having a constant reminder of his deliberate and cold-hearted seduction of me was almost too much. I’d been avoiding him as much as humanly possible since his return, leaving for work early and not getting home til late, finding excuses to work on the weekends and fill any time I did get off in other ways. He was possessive of Noah whenever I was around, as if trying to take away my maternal rights, but, to be honest, letting him monopolize Noah was infinitely preferable to letting him monopolize me. But every day the time came, inevitably, when Noah and Ebony had been put to bed, and I was left alone with Grae. I’d learned better than to refuse him - that had angered him in the past. Every night he came into my bedroom I let him have his way, praying only that it would be over soon. But tonight I wouldn’t submit to him. Dana had given me doubt, and scared as I was to confront him, of what he would do to me, I couldn’t live the rest of my life like this. I had to escape. He went to tuck Ebony into bed and then came into my bedroom. I was still dressed in jeans and a shirt and he stiffened angrily when he saw the defiance in my posture. “You’re not going to bed?” I shook my head. “No. Not yet.” “Why not?” “I have some questions to ask you.” He started to unbutton his shirt. “About what?” My heart was pumping crazily, my palms all sweaty, my stomach lurching. “What time did you get to the morgue?” “What?” “When you went to bring Erin back. What time did you get to the morgue?” “I don’t know. About nine, nine-thirty, maybe. What’s with the questions?” “How did you get in?” “I smocked up. Dressed like a doctor.” “And you just walked right into the morgue?” “Why are you asking me? Are you doubting me, Jacqui?” “Just answer the question.” “Yes, I just walked right in... But first I rigged the cameras.” “How?” “I attached a device to the surveillance camera which held a frame of the empty morgue to cover the time I was in there. The clock in the corner kept time. Nobody was the wiser.” That answered Dana’s question, but instead of relieving my doubt it only enhanced it. Grae was too quick with his answers, too confident. He must have known I would doubt him eventually, that I would ask him. He knew all about the surveillance tape. Everybody knew about the tape. Why hadn’t I asked these questions earlier? But I knew why. I’d been too swamped with relief at Erin’s resurrection, with fear and horror at what I was in for. That Graham hadn’t been involved just hadn’t occured to me. “What did you use to bring her back?” “I told you already. It’s a drug we developed in my lab. Combined with residual electricity stored chemically in the cells it restarted her heart.” “How did it succeed in restarting her heart when all resuscitation efforts by doctors had failed? How do you explain the disappearance of her leukemia? The dramatic improvement of her failing organs?” “What are you getting at?” A sharpness was coming into his voice that he couldn’t disguise. “What the hell are you implying, Jacqui? I’m not going to put up with your bullshit.” “You’re the one who’s full of BS,” I told him coldly. I stared at him, my mind free from doubt. He hadn’t brought Erin back. He had just taken advantage of the situation. It was nauseating. “What are you going to do about it?” He was controlling himself, but barely. “I want you to get out of here.” “You can’t kick me out.” “Yes, I can. If necessary I’ll physically remove you. You know I’m stronger than you are. Do you need me to break your arm to prove that?” He stepped closer to me. I almost took a step back but willed myself to hold my ground. He came closer again, til he was almost in my face. Then he held out his arm to me, challenging my bluff. I gritted my teeth, honestly not sure if I still could take him out, afraid that maybe I couldn’t. He nodded, knowingly. “I thought so.” He grabbed my hands and in a sudden movement twisted them, snapping my fingers, wrenching my wrist. Enormous pain shot through me but my surprised cry was lost as he put his mouth on mine, kissing me savagely. I twisted away, my head swimming, my legs weak, clutching my useless hands against my chest. Almost blinded with pain and hate and disgust, I kicked him. My first kick was pitiful, barely grazing his ankle. But rage surged through me and I kicked him again, this time low in the chest, then I shot my knee into his groin. He stumbled to the ground but I kept kicking him, crying at the pain all up my arms but not stopping til he crawled out of my reach and got to his feet. He was in pain, almost doubled over, and his nose was bleeding, the blood landing on the carpet. We stared at each other with utter loathing, teeth gritted in pain. I hated this man so much. If he hadn’t dragged himself up off the ground I would have killed him, I knew it. Even still I wanted to hurt him more. “Leave now, or I *will* kill you,” I told him, and he knew that I meant it. He straightened up, breathing uneven, still clearly in pain. “I’ll get you for this, Jacqueline,” he warned. It was an ugly threat. “If I ever see you again, I’ll shoot you on the spot,” I answered, hugging my broken hands against me. The pain was making my head throb. I couldn’t keep this strong anger for much longer. He glowered at me, then started to back out of the room, limping a little. Ebony was standing in the living room in her pajamas, hugging the stuffed platypus against her. She looked frightened, guarded. I wondered if maybe Graham was going to try and take Noah but he didn’t even seem to think about the baby, heading straight for the door. “We’re not welcome here, Ebs,” he told her shortly. She started to follow him out - I knew she would - but I ran ahead of her, blocking her, hating my useless hands. “You’re staying with me, this time.” Grae turned. “No way in hell.” I held his gaze. “You’re not fit to parent a dog.” I saw his rage building again but somehow, for some reason, he controlled himself. Maybe he was being as consumed by the pain of his injuries as I was of mine. He turned, and he left. Ebony tried to push past me, crying out something incoherent. I grabbed at her, the searing pain in my hand almost overwhelming, my grip on her little more than a signal to stop. I couldn’t have physically restrained her, and I almost wondered why she didn’t protest further. The door slammed shut after Grae and I fell to the ground, cradling my hands, agonised. Ebony stood where she was and cried. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - I was halfway into pajamas when the phone rang. Mulder brought it to me, face grim. “It’s Jacqueline.” I took the phone cautiously, breathing a deep breath before putting the receiver to my ear. “What happened, Jacqui?” Sobs and sniffling. It sounded distant and I wondered if maybe she was on speakerphone. “What happened?” I asked again. “Did you confront Graham?” More sobs. “He hurt me, Dana. He hurt my hands...” “He hurt your hands? What do you mean?” “He broke some of my fingers... closed fractures... Sprained my wrist, I think. It hurts. God, it hurts so much...” “Where are you, at home? Has he gone?” “He said he was going to get me...” “But he’s gone?” “Yeah, but he said -” “Do you think you can drive?” “I can’t do anything, Dana. He knew that. That’s why he hurt my hands, so I can’t -” Mulder was still standing in the doorway, watching me. I gestured to him. “Mulder’s on his way over right now, okay? He’ll bring you and Noah back here, then we’ll see about getting you to a hospital or calling the police, okay?” “I don’t want the cops involved, Dana. Please, I don’t want them involved...” I knew why she was so afraid of involving the police. She was too afraid to have the attention drawn to her. But somebody had to do something about Graham. This couldn’t go unpunished. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - I let myself in and found Jacqueline sitting slumped against her refridgerator, the freezer door hanging open, a large bag of frozen peas resting in her hands in her lap as she sobbed. I closed the freezer door and crouched down beside her, lifting the bag to see the damage. Several of her fingers were at angles, clearly broken, her whole hands already swelling up despite the ice. Ouch. “You’re going to need these x-rayed,” I told her quietly. “We need to get you to a hospital.” She shook her head. “They’ll make an incident report... please, Fox, don’t. Take me to the clinic. Dana can fix me up there. Please...” I nodded, helping her to her feet. She made little attempt to support herself, only sobbed. I led her to the sofa and let her down again. I found the baby’s bedroom and switched on the light. Noah, laying awake on his back in the crib, stared at me. I picked him up, grabbing the carrier from the side and strapping him in. I knew Jacqueline had stopped using it a while ago but it was easier than the stroller and then baby carseat. Only when I returned to the living room did I realise that Ebony was there, crouching in a corner, watching Jacqui silently. She hadn’t gone with Graham? It was cold out. I had to help Jacqueline with her coat and even then I only draped it around her shoulders, not wanting to force her hands through the sleeves. She was beyond caring, anyhow. I tugged Ebony’s coat on, not taking the patience with her that I normally would, and tucked a blanket over Noah in the carrier. Three children. It was like a distorted reflection. “Ready to go?” Jacqueline nodded, indicating the keychain on the wall. I grabbed the keys and picked up the carrier again, indicating for Jacqueline and Ebony to go out ahead of me. Jacqueline, arms to her chest, shuffled toward the door, but Ebony stayed put. I wished I’d brought Scully with me, or even Josh. He knew how to handle her. “Ebony, come on.” She shook her head. “Ebony, you don’t get a choice in this. We’re going.” She shook her head again. I was losing patience. Jacqueline was hovering in the doorway helplessly. I nudged her out into the corridor, putting down the carrier. Reentering the apartment, I grabbed Ebony around the waist and picked her up. She started to scream, struggling to get away, but I held her firmly, closing the apartment door and one-handedly locking the apartment with Jacqueline’s key. I took two trips down to the car, the first with Ebony, the second with Jacqueline and the baby. Calling home on my celphone, I told Scully to meet us at the clinic. We beat her there, parking in Jacqueline’s parking space in front of the well-lit building. We waited there til Scully arrived. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - Her hands were a mess, but the swelling was most of the problem, I guessed as I studied them under the streetlight. I lifted Jacqueline’s chin to see if she’d sustained any facial damage but, tears aside, her face seemed to be untouched. He’d only hurt her hands. I glanced at Mulder as he stood leaning over his open car door, only half out of the car. “You take Noah back to our place.” To be honest, I was more afraid for our own kids than I was for Noah. I didn’t like leaving them to care for themselves at the best of times, and Graham’s threat, relayed by Jacqueline, had scared me. He knew our relationship to Jacqueline. I wouldn’t put it below him to get back at her by attacking us. “I’ve got Ebony, too.” “Ebony?” I echoed, surprised. “I wouldn’t let him take her away,” Jacqueline spoke up shakily. “I can’t let that monster look after her.” I looked past her to Mulder, indicating for him to leave. He nodded, climbing back into the car and gunning the engine. Jacqui watched dumbly as Mulder pulled away from the kerb and took off, her eyes on the empty road. I nudged her gently. “Let’s get you fixed up, huh?” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - JACQUELINE POV - I had a sprained wrist and five fractured fingers, two on my left hand and three on my right. I felt as helpless as a baby as Dana splinted my fingers with plastic braces and strapped my wrist. She was talking to me quietly as she worked, God knows what about. I’d stopped sobbing but the tears were endless. They just kept rolling down my cheeks. Tired and in pain, I just didn’t have any strength to stop them. I couldn’t even think straight. Everybody was awake when Dana and I got to her place. Fox was sitting with Ebony at the kitchen table, an untouched glass of milk in front of her. Erin was on the floor with her trucks, as energetic as if it were ten in the morning, not at night. Astrid was on the couch, Noah on her lap, sucking on a rice cracker. Josh, in pajamas like his sisters, seemed more asleep than awake as he sat in the armchair, watching everybody. Dana took charge as soon as she stepped in the door, ordering everybody back to bed. Telling Fox to get the sofa bed ready for me, she swung Erin up into her arms, shepherding Josh and Astrid out of the room, returning a minute later with a pile of linen and blankets. Watching her and Fox quickly put together the bed I felt guilty being such a burden. I was helpless. It wasn’t fair, to me or to them. “Erin’s sleeping in the lower bunk in Astrid’s room tonight,” Dana announced. “Noah can have her crib. Are you and Ebony okay to share the sofa bed?” That was closer than either Ebony or I were used to being to each other but I nodded anyway, desperate not to be difficult. I followed Dana in as she settled Noah in Erin’s crib, wondering if it was only because I was so tired and sick at heart that I felt absolutely no bond with the sleeping baby boy. Ebony was in her pajamas but I was still in jeans. Dana offered me a pair of her own pajamas, then had to help me change. I could barely move my hands, let alone button. It was humiliating. I couldn’t remember ever having been so dependant on others. Even though it was Dana who was helping me, who was being so patient with me, I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. She gave me something for the pain and even pulled the covers back for me to climb in. Ebony was huddled in the armchair where Josh had been and Dana talked her into getting into the bed beside me. It wasn’t a wide bed but with Ebony as far as possible on one side and me on the other, it seemed huge. If only it were Astrid, not Ebony. Astrid would cuddle up against me and demand a story and tell me something silly to make me laugh. How I envied Dana... “You’ll be okay?” she asked softly, crouching down beside me. I nodded quickly, not wanting to keep her up any longer, not wanting to make things any worse than they already were. She frowned, not believing me. I sighed, turning my head to look at Ebony. She was gazing right back at me, her eyes expressionless. I turned away. “I shouldn’t have challenged him.” Dana sighed, watching me closely. “You had to escape sometime. You couldn’t live like that forever.” “I made a mess of things...” “Life doesn’t always go smoothly. It’s human nature: we get tangled.” She patted my arm. “Try to get some sleep, huh? Call if you need anything.” I nodded, knowing I wouldn’t trouble her during the night unless I got desperate. I watched as she switched off the lights and left the room, then I rolled onto my side, drawing my broken hands to my chest almost as if praying. I closed my eyes, wriggling down under the covers, trying to hide, and I cried myself to sleep. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - Erin woke at six. Although we’d fenced off the edge of the lower bunk in Astrid’s room she still managed to escape and come bounding into our room, jumping on top of us until we woke up and then running off again. Remembering Jacqueline, I vaulted out of bed, chasing after Erin. I found her on the sofa bed, crouched next to Jacqui, watching her with wide-eyed interest as she slept. Ebony was nowhere to be found. That hit the panic button. Had Graham come in the middle of the night and taken Ebony? I ran to check the door but it was still locked. I picked Erin up, taking her into her bedroom and letting her to the floor next to her toypile, tipping out her box of toy cars to keep her entertained. Noah was still asleep in the crib, breathing regularly. I left the two of them there and checked Astrid’s room. It was still dark, the curtains drawn, and I had to flick on the light to see. Astrid lifted her head sleepily. “What?” she asked grumpily, blinking at the brightness. “Nothing,” I told her quickly, flicking the light off again. I didn’t need to panic anybody unnecessarily. Ebony had to be in the apartment somewhere. Next was Josh’s room. Mister Tom was curled up on Josh’s feet, purring loudly. Neither of them woke when I flicked the light on and then off. I eventually found Ebony in the kids’ bathroom. She had dragged her pillow in there and pulled a bath towel around herself as she curled up in the bathtub. I hesitated over what to do and decided simply to leave her there, hoping she wouldn’t sleep too late. Erin was back at Jacqueline’s side when I returned to the living room. She was gazing at Jacqui with at same innocent curiosity as before. Wondering why Jacqui was sleeping there, maybe. I called her away and sat her down with some breakfast, but that was only enough to keep her still for five minutes. She was full of mad energy despite the early hour and her fascination with Jacqui was hard to dissuade. It was quarter past seven when Mulder finally appeared in pajamas. I put him in charge of keeping Erin away from Jacqui and went to have a shower. Dressed, I woke Astrid, telling her to have her shower in our ensuite so as not to disturb Ebony. I could hear Noah whimpering through the baby monitor and I got him up, changing his diaper and giving him one of Erin’s old rattles to gnaw on. Somehow, despite the chaos, we managed to get ready for the day. Mulder left for work at eight, keen to interview Ed Wright again. I called Kathy, telling her to take the day off. While she and Jacqueline had gotten to know each other well during Erin’s sickness and she had even babysat Noah on one occasion, we couldn’t allow her to see Ebony. That was too much to explain. I wrote Jacqui a note and packed the four of them - Astrid, Josh, Erin and Noah, in his carrier - in the car to take the kids to school. I almost felt that I should warn Josh and Astrid about Graham but I held back. It would only scare them. Besides, they knew what he had done to Jacqui. They knew that he was the enemy. They weren’t stupid. Jacqueline was awake when I returned, down on her hands and knees in the bathroom, sobbing as she scrubbed at the floor with her injured hands. “Hey!” I rushed at her, easing the wet washcloth from her awkward splinted grip. “What are you doing?” She sat back, crying quietly. “I was sick. I didn’t get there in time. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a mess...” With what she’d been through, I wasn’t surprised that she was throwing up. Poor Jacqui. I crouched beside her, rubbing her back. “You feel okay now?” She nodded, inhaling deeply. “Not sick any more, anyway. I can finish cleaning up -” “No you can’t. I’ll do that. You go sit down, okay?” “Dana-” “Don’t argue.” I helped her to her feet and gave her a nudge. “You keep Erin entertained while I clean this up, then we’ll see about getting you three some breakfast. Are you still breast-feeding Noah?” She shook her head. “Formula. But anything will do, for now.” I nodded, shooing her out. I mopped the floor clean and closed the bathroom door to stop Erin from running in and slipping on the wet tiles. I’d put Noah in the carrier on the kitchen counter and Jacqui, unable to unbuckle him or lift the carrier, had left him there. She sat on the sofa bed, Erin on her lap. Erin was holding open a picture book for Jacqui to read, turning pages haphazardly, making the story impossible to read coherently. Not that Erin minded, and Jacqui didn’t seem to either. She was smiling wanly at Erin’s antics. It was going to be a day of antics, I realised, watching Erin run around the apartment crazily as if chasing somebody as I helped Jacqueline fix breakfast for the three of them. She fed Noah some toast and gave him a bottle of apple juice to suck down as she painfully ate her way through half a bowl of cereal. Heaving a sigh, she pushed aside the soggy mess remaining. “Sorry. I can’t finish it. I’d be sick.” She looked across at Ebony, who was eating the cereal dry, then looked away again quickly. Pushing her chair back from the table, she picked up the cereal bowl awkwardly and took it into the kitchen, scraping the soggy cereal into the trash with her spoon and putting the bowl carefully in the sink. “I guess I’m not washing up, huh?” “I think you can be excused from that duty,” I agreed, relieved by the small smile that appeared on her lips. “Go, sit down. Watch some trashy daytime TV.” She nodded. “When are you going into work today?” “You need me here.” “You need to be at work. I won’t let you stay away just for me, Dana.” “It’s not just for you. It’s for Noah and Ebony, and Erin, too. You can’t even pick Noah up.” The smile disappeared. “I know that.” She gazed at her son as he wriggled in the high chair. I moved around to her, lifting Noah out and putting him down on the rumpled sofa bed, flipping the TV on. Erin came running, gazing at Noah as curiously as she had Jacqui. He gave her a slow, crooked smile and she grinned, letting out a delighted shriek, pushing her face closer to his. Jacqui awkwardly sat herself down next to Noah, touching his forehead lightly with the tips of her splinted fingers. I sat down on Noah’s other side, pulling Erin onto my lap, knowing that Jacqui needed the company. She gazed at her hands. “He’s a real bastard.” Her voice resonated with dull anger. “He could have just hit me but he had to make me helpless.” She exhaled, a shuddery sigh. “I think I’m pregnant again, Dana.” “What?” She didn’t look at me, just stared down at the carpet, chin resting on her knees, hands hanging limply by her sides. “This morning wasn’t the first time I’ve thrown up.” “Were you trying to get pregnant again?” “No! God, no! I don’t want the one I’ve g-” She broke off, shaking, and set her lips. “Grae wanted to have a second child. He knew how dependant I was on him when I was pregnant with Noah. He wanted to trap me.” “You couldn’t have used contraceptives?” She shook her head. “He would have killed me. He said that he would, that he’d find out. I was too scared to call his bluff. He found out everything else about me.” “You couldn’t have taken something at work?” “He searched the house when I went out, he went through all my stuff at work when I was on lunch break. He went through my car and my clothes and my briefcase when I was asleep or in the shower. I felt like I was being watched every second of the day.” “You didn’t confront him about it?” “I thought he was just being territorial, Dana.” “He threatened to kill you!” She shrugged, gesturing helplessly. “He scared me. But I thought that he’d brought Erin back.” I sighed, my hands straying to my own stomach as my mind ticked over her predicament. “You don’t know for sure that you’re pregnant?” “No.” “You need to find out for certain.” “I know.” Her answers were in a monotone, her gaze now on Noah, her eyes dull with something I thought uncomfortably looked a lot like hate. “What are you going to do, if you are pregnant?” She pulled her gaze away from her son and got to her feet. “I don’t know.” Moving into the kitchen, she reached for the phone. “Is it okay if I make a call? I need to tell Aaron that I can’t come in today.” Although I felt the pregnancy conversation was far from over, I respected - and understood - her desire to change to subject. “Jacqui, you can’t work until your hands have healed.” “I’ll manage.” I shrugged, knowing better than to argue with her. “Call him, tell him you can’t make it today, that you don’t know about after that.” She nodded, then sheepishly held out the phone. “Dial for me?” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - Scully called just after midday to say that she was on her way. She’d left Jacqueline and Ebony at our apartment and Noah and Erin at the clinic’s daycare. It was where Noah spent his days and even Erin had spent time with Jacqueline’s personally selected staff but I could tell she still wasn’t happy about the arrangement, or even about leaving Jacqueline with only Ebony for that matter. I could understand that concern; Ebony was a strange child. She clearly haboured some sort of animosity toward Jacqueline. Things had to be awkward, especially now with Jacqui so helpless. I caught Scully on her way down to the office and together we headed off to visit Hope Brent, nee Blackwood; the woman who would have been Sandra’s mother. She was a wiry fifty-five year old in tennis whites living in an upper middle-class suburb. “Lance Wessex,” she mused. “I haven’t thought about Lance for years.” “So you knew him?” “Knew him? Lord, we were engaged for over a year!” “What can you tell us about him?” “Almost everything there is to tell. I’ve got all the stories, locked away in here.” She tapped her forehead with a closely trimmed nail. “You’ll have to be more specific.” “How about we start with his death?” “His death? Who’s dragging all that up again?” “We’re just curious, Mrs Brent. At the time when he was shot and killed, you two were engaged?” “Getting married the following month. He was a strange man, Lance. Real dedicated to the job. A pity, that being what got him killed.” “We’re looking specifically at when he was shot. Was there anything strange about the circumstances?” “I don’t think I quite see what you’re getting at, Mr Mulder.” “The coroner and police reports are sketchy as to the details. They say that he was shot on the street following a drug raid but he died in the hospital.” “I think that’s right. It was a long time ago -” “He was shot in the chest.” “Yes.” “Were you there in the hospital?” “They called his mother first. I wasn’t listed as next of kin, yet. But she called me as soon as she could and we went to the hospital together. Lance was in surgery when I got there.” “So they thought that maybe he would survive?” “They thought he would, but then they found bleeding somewhere, and they couldn’t stop it in time. The doctor had said that it was touch and go.” “Heads or tails.” “Pardon me?” “It could have gone either way. He could possibly have recovered and gone on to live a long and healthy life with you?” “I suppose so.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - Walking back to our car he was excited he was practically jumping. “Just think, Scully. Every choice we make, every single thing we do changes the course of history. Life is a chain reaction. We only exist because by some twist of fate our parents met. If my grandfather hadn’t been injured in a bus accident and sued for compensation he wouldn’t have been able to afford to send my mother to a private school. She would never have met my father and I would never have been born. The X-files wouldn’t exist. You’d be working in some big office somewhere with your own personal assistant, telling Skinner what to do and married to a lawyer with three kids and a dog.” I grinned, amused not only by his words but his excitement. “I’ve got three kids and you, Mulder. That’s plenty for me.” “But follow where I’m going, Scully. Think - what chains have we broken? Where have our choices led us?” “They’ve led us here, Mulder. To this very spot.” “What if with every choice that we’ve made there’s been a world created? Think about it. What if when Lance Wessex was shot the world split to cover the two possible outcomes - in one existence he dies, in the other, he lives. When Erin died, the world split again - in our existence she came back, in another she didn’t.” I ignored the second example. That was another whole issue to deal with. “Even if this split is happening, Mulder, you still haven’t come up with any explanation of how Edward Wright has ‘jumped’ from one world to another.” “Maybe he’s dreaming this world. Maybe we’re dreaming it.” I frowned, unsettled by where the conversation was going. “Mulder, you’re saying that we can’t tell what’s real from what’s not.” He dropped his hands to his sides, shrugging his shoulders. “What if we can’t?” he asked softly. His eyes were wide with fear, pleading. I took his hands in mine, trying to give him something solid to anchor to. “I’m real, Mulder. I’m real and I promise you that.” He wasn’t convinced, I could tell, and it was worrying me. I tugged at his hands. “Let’s head back, huh?” He shook his head, reaching to rub his eyes. I pulled his hands away from his face, glancing into his eyes. They were red-rimmed. I hadn’t noticed that in the rush to get out of the house. “What’s wrong, Mulder?” “I had a bad dream, last night.” “About Erin? She died?” It wasn’t hard to guess. “It was so real, Scully. I dreamed of her funeral. We were asleep on the kitchen floor and then we had to get up, not because the phone was ringing but because we had to go to the funeral.” He looked at me. “I woke up from the dream and I didn’t know whether it was real or not. I didn’t know whether the dream was that she was alive or that she was dead, or if I was still dreaming. I got scared.” He still looked scared, grieving, confused. “I think,” I said slowly, “that we’re finding it so impossible to accept that she could be truly back because we don’t know how or why. It feels too much like a dream, like somebody has just granted us a wish. But, despite that, Mulder, we’ve just got to trust ourselves. Trust your senses, your heart, your mind.” “Children die.” He shook his head. “What about that case in Minneapolis? So many children died. Each one of them must have been as precious as Erin is to us, but nothing could save them. They died. They didn’t come back. Why did Erin?” How I wished I had an answer, for my own peace of mind as well as his. “I don’t know that, Mulder.” I caught his hand again and tugged. “The kids must be wondering these things, too. Maybe we should have this discussion with them when we get home tonight. You think?” He nodded, distracted. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - JACQUELINE POV - The kids got home just before four. A wind had picked up outside and they were both shivering after walking from the bus-stop in the cold. I let them in with difficulty, feeling a little awkward about facing them. Last night I’d been a mess. I expected them to be weirded out by it like they had been by my emotional breakdowns in the past, but Astrid surprised me by greeting me with a hug, demanding to know if I’d been taking it easy as Dana had instructed. Josh seemed worn out by his day and disappeared into his bedroom, and Astrid, after raiding the fridge for an afternoon snack, sat quietly talking to me, telling me about her day. After having only silent, unresponsive Ebony as my companion the last four hours it was an incredible relief to have this ordinariness and comfort. “If you killed Graham,” Astrid asked suddenly, “They’d put you in jail for life, wouldn’t they? Not self-defense or anything, I mean; first degree murder.” “I’m not really sure, baby.” “What if I killed him?” I stared at her, panic beating within me. “Don’t even think silly thoughts like that, Astrid.” “I’m only nine. They wouldn’t send me to prison.” “They’d have to send you somewhere.” “What if I faked it, made it look like it was self-defense or suicide or an accident?” I shifted uncomfortably. “Astrid, you shouldn’t think about things like this. You know it’s wrong to kill people.” “He deserves it.” “That doesn’t make it right.” “But you wanted to kill him, didn’t you? When he broke your fingers, you wanted to kill him.” “I was angry.” “You’re still angry. You should be. He shouldn’t just get away with it.” “Astrid, promise me you’ll stop thinking about this,” I pleaded. My innocent little Astrid shouldn’t be thinking about killing a man. This was my fault. But what could I do? She looked up at my face, then she nodded. She jumped down from the barstool and moved over to the pantry, producing a small rectangular packet with a grin. “Can we make microwave popcorn?” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - I stopped by the clinic on the way home to pick up Erin and Noah. It felt a little strange managing both toddler and infant at once, knowing that when this new baby was born that would be the situation for real. How would Erin cope with no longer being the baby of the family, I wondered as I buckled her into the car seat. She expected as much attention now as she had when she was sick and it was difficult enough to please her now. How would we manage with a new baby as well? I touched the cardboard floppy ears attached to an Indian-style headband around her head. “Are you a bunny rabbit?” She grinned, reaching up to tug at the ears. “Wabbit.” She giggled. “And such a big rabbit, too!” Her already bright eyes widened with eagerness. “Big!” she agreed feverently, stretching out her arms as wide as she could. “Weel big wabbit!” I grinned. I couldn’t worry when she was smiling so brightly. We’d manage. Anything short of matters of life and death should be a breeze. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - Jacqueline was going home. She was adamant about it. She had already organised to have her locks changed and the new keys left with a live-in assistant she had hired to help her out until she could manage by herself, and all she was waiting for was Scully’s return with Erin and Noah. “I just need somebody to be my hands for a couple of days, then I’ll be fine,” she explained briefly. “I heal quickly." Broken bones mended in only a few days? She was kidding herself. She’d told us herself that she didn’t have the same quick healing that Josh and Astrid did. Graham had put her out of action for weeks. But she was insistent that she had to move on. I thought maybe it had more to do with her fear of becoming an annoyance for Scully and I. It was an understandable fear - she’d driven us to snapping at her in the past. But it still felt too soon. She was still broken. Scully tried as I had to talk Jacqueline out of it but Jacqueline was being stubborn. Scully gave in but even then Jacqui tried to insist she would get a cab to her place. It was only a half hour round trip and this argument at least we won. Scully helped Jacqueline pack all their things and drove them to her apartment. I was on the couch with Josh and Astrid sprawled across me when Scully returned. The TV was on but, rather than watching it, I was watching Erin as she sat busily transporting her duplo pieces in the dumptruck. We’d never seen her play with one toy as much as she had with the dumptruck. She had certain places all around the apartment where she would pick up and dump loads - it wasn’t unusual for us to find a pile of duplo or small toy cars in the middle of our bedroom floor. Scully dropped her keys and kicked off her shoes but then kept going, moving into the kitchen to find something for dinner, then moving around the apartment tidying up. As she gathered and folded the linen from the sofa bed she paused to watch Erin playing. I knew what she was thinking, that the questions in her mind were the same that rung endlessly in mine. How and why was Erin saved? This wasn’t just some freak of medicine. Somebody or something had brought her back. But for what purpose? Was this the part of some invisible plan, some greater purpose? There wasn’t much that scared me, but that thought did. What if Erin’s existence - and even the existence of this new baby, our other miracle - was already planned? But who? And what role were these two innocents to play? - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - ASTRID POV - Daddy announced during dinner that we needed to have a family talk. My stomach went all funny and I got all sweaty as soon as he said that. Did they need to talk about me? I didn’t want to talk about me. I was trying hard at school to do better in everything and if they just let me keep trying I’d be okay. Daddy must have seen how I got all nervous and quiet because he smiled gently. “We’re all wondering about how Erin came back,” he said reassuringly, and I did feel better that it wasn’t going to be about me, but then queasy again because I didn’t want to talk about what I thought about Erin coming back, either. “It could be good to swap theories.” I felt relief flooding through me with those two words. Swap theories. That didn’t sound anywhere near as scary. Swapping theories was interesting, or at least it was when Mom and Dad did it at work. “Sort of like Erin was an x-file,” I checked. He nodded. “Yeah. Sorta like that.” *Was* Erin an x-file? I wondered suddenly. Did they have a file on her somewhere in their office? That was a horrible thought, but not so strange when you thought about it, because there was a file on Mommy’s abduction and on Samantha and even one on us. We were quiet through the end of dinner - I could hardly eat anything that was left on my plate - and then we all sat down on the couches. Josh sat down and I sat down next to him. I thought maybe Mommy and Daddy would sit on the other couch and panicked at the thought. I didn’t want to feel like we were taking sides or against each other. But Mommy nudged me and Josh apart so that she could sit between us, and Daddy sat on the floor at Mommy’s feet, only a little bit away from Erin who was trying to cut a plastic pony in half with a plastic saw. Even though we’d confirmed that we were just swapping theories, like we were trying to solve a mystery, Josh and I were still silent. I didn’t know where to start. “It’s not an easy thing to talk about,’ Daddy began. “We all know that. But Mommy and I think that there’s a reason for why Erin came back to us, and that if we can figure out how she came back we’ll know why as well. What do you think? Does that sound right?” I shrugged a little, looking at Josh. He was curled up, not against Mommy but into the side of the couch, away from her. “Astrid,” Mommy said gently, “Do you have any ideas, maybe?” I shook my head quickly. I didn’t know what had brought Erin back. I guess maybe I subconsciously believed that it was God. It hadn’t really seemed to matter to me. She was alive, that had been the most important part. It had been about *her*, not how or why. Even now I didn’t understand why Mommy and Daddy couldn’t let it go. Why did it matter? There’d been lots of times when they’d survived against the odds. It had happened. That was all that mattered. Why couldn’t they let us move on? “No ideas?” Daddy pressed. “Why do we have to find out?” I asked, feeling a little sulky. “And how would I know, anyway?” “Because you know things that others don’t,” Daddy answered. “Because I can read people’s minds.” There. That was the first time I’d ever said it aloud, to anybody. Neither Mommy or Daddy looked surprised. Daddy smiled a little, as if I’d made a joke. “Yeah.” “I’m bad at it,” I said, feeling angrier. How come Joshie’s kept getting clearer and clearer and mine was just fuzzy? I could usually tell what a person was feeling, whether they were sad or angry or whatever, and what they were thinking about. Joshie could recite people’s deepest thoughts verbatim. “You get... feelings.” Mommy said gently. “Did your feelings tell you anything about what brought Erin back?” I shook my head and pulled back from them, not wanting to answer any more questions. Mommy and Daddy glanced at each other and Daddy nodded slightly. He turned to Josh and I almost wished I had kept their attention because I didn’t want Joshie getting upset. I should have protected him. “Josh?” Daddy asked softly. He already looked like he was going to cry. I felt all terrible on the inside for him. “It was my blood,” he answered, not looking at anybody, not even Erin. “Your blood?” Mommy echoed. She reached her hand out to him, touching the top of his head. “You believe that your blood transfusion helped Erin?” He kept staring at the coffee table. “It brought her back.” “How do you think it did that?” “It rebuilds. It balances...” “So it destroyed all the leukemia cells, you think?” He nodded. “But how do you think it brought her back from the dead?” He was squirming unhappily. “I don’t know how.” Stop bullying him! I wanted to scream at Mommy and Daddy. But Mommy leaned closer to Josh. “Is that what’s been making you so unhappy, sweetie?” Shaking his head, he pulled away from her a bit. I felt so bad for him but I wasn’t sure if he’d let even me comfort him. Daddy got to his feet so that he was crouching. “Is it God?” Josh actually lifted his head to look at daddy. His eyes were so big, so sad. “He’s angry with me.” “Why?” “Cos I tried to save Erin. I don’t know whether I was supposed to.” “You don’t know?” Josh drew a deep breath. “The voices are all jumbled.” “The voices?” He licked his lips uneasily. “I hear them in my head.” “Are they people’s thoughts that you hear, sweetie?” Mommy sounded all sad, but both she and Daddy were watching Josh closely. He seemed to shrink down into himself. He was scared that they’d look at him differently. He didn’t want to be an x-file. “Some times.” “What about the rest of the time?” He half-shrugged. “Just voices.” “What do they say?” He wriggled further down into the couch, as if he was trying to disappear. “Some of them were telling me that I could make Erin better, that it was my job. But some were saying that I shouldn’t interfere, that I should have faith that God would heal her.” “That must have been tough, having to decide which voice to listen to,” Daddy said quietly. Joshie just stared down. He half-shrugged, then nodded. I wanted to just wrap my arms around him in a hug, he was so miserable. But at least Mommy had the same idea. She pulled Josh onto her lap and he cuddled up against her like Erin did. He wasn’t crying or anything, just sitting there, silent, still staring down. “You think this is all just a dream,” I said to Daddy, trying to draw the attention away from Josh. “Or some sort of parallel world. That’s what you think happened.” “I don’t know anything for sure, Astrid.” He looked at me truthfully, still kinda sad. “That’s why I want to hear what you two have to say. You both see things beyond what Mom and I can see. We thought maybe you might have some insight, that’s all.” I shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. “I don’t know anything more than you do.” He gazed at me, as if trying to gauge my honesty, then he nodded. “Okay.” “Daddeeee!” Erin threw herself on Daddy’s lap, pulling his arms around her and shoving the plastic pony and saw in his face. “Won’t cut!” “You trying to cut your pony in half?” Daddy smiled. “I don’t think pony likes that. Do you, pony?” He took the pony from Erin’s hand and made a neighing noise with it. But Erin shook her head. “No! Cut!” “Why?” “Pony bad.” “What did pony do wrong?” “Pony weely bad.” “Well, if pony’s been bad, why don’t you make him go sit in the corner for a little while? Yeah?” Erin nodded and took off. Daddy smiled as he watched her go, but when he turned to look at us again he was all pensive. “I’m not the expert here,” he said finally, “but I think that if God had meant for Erin to be taken, He would have taken her.” I looked at Josh to see how he took that but his face was hidden. I saw the look in Mommy’s eyes as she glanced across at Daddy and I knew what she was thinking, that if Erin had died Daddy wouldn’t be saying that so freely. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - We visited Ed Wright again the following morning to get as detailed as we could a description of everything he had done the day he was arrested, anything, as Mulder said, that could have ‘triggered a jump’ from one world to another. Ed latched onto Mulder’s theory with grateful relish, glad not only to have an explanation for what had happened to him but also somebody who actually believed the theory. I found myself itching with frustration as I listened to the two of them theorising. They sounded like film writers hashing out the plot of another b-grade science fiction thriller, not an FBI agent questioning a victim. I gave up and left half-way through the discussion. The dissatisfactory ending to our family conference had left me a little unnerved and I was running low on tolerance. Listening to Mulder share his groundless theory as though it were the gospel truth only frustrated me. We had more important things to focus on. The fact that our seven year-old son was hearing voices in his head, for starters. I was outside waiting for him when he finally emerged. He seemed excited and I bit my tongue, letting him relay the meeting to me as we drove to the bar where this jump had supposedly taken place. It was a pretty seedy place. Dark, though it was still afternoon, a haze of cigarette smoke and the reek of alcohol. I wrinkled my nose and sighed, following Mulder as he made his way around the room, testing walls as if he thought his hand would just slide through them to another dimension. There was only one bartender on duty, a college student, he looked. He hadn’t been scheduled on, the night in question. Mulder then asked a bizarre question - “If I had lost or found something, where would I go?” The bartender grinned and reached under the counter to produce a bulging cardboard box. “I’ve got everything but the kitchen sink in here. What are you looking for?” “What do you have?” Suspicion crossed the smiling face. “Hey, you can’t just take anything you want. If you’ve lost something, tell me -” He broke off as Mulder held up his ID. “FBI?” Mulder leaned into the box as he rummaged through it, holding up an object occasionally for me to see. Not the celphones or umbrellas that you’d expect, but fine bone china tea cups, a small, old-fashioned wallclock, an Elvis record. Mulder held the last one up for me to see, grinning. “That’s an unusual collection for a bar’s lost and found,” I remarked, looking to the bartender for an explanation. “Yeah. You’ve got a whole antique shop in here,” Mulder added, pulling back. “You just pick this stuff up off the floor at closing or what?” The bartender shrugged. “As bizarre as it sounds, yeah. We hold them to see if any customers come back, but they never do.” “There’s no antique shop nearby?” “Not that I know of.” “And this has always happened?” “I haven’t been here long, but it’s a bit of a running joke. Nobody really knows what to make of the whole thing.” Mulder nodded, chewing on his lip as he considered the box. Then he took hold of it, lifting it as if to gauge the heft. He let it down again. “Mind if I borrow this? Evidence.” The bartender opened his mouth as if in protest, looking to me. I held up my ID and badge. He shrugged. “Sure, I guess. Are you going to bring it back?” Mulder nodded, giving his best boy scout smile. “Soon as we’re finished.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - She cocked an eyebrow as she watched me put the box in the trunk of the car. “Evidence?” I grinned at her. “Yup. Evidence.” “Of what?” “You’ll see.” We returned to the Brochard Institute to see Ed again and were directed to his room, where he sat alone huddled on a chair. It was clear soon enough that he was still being heavily medicated; he was lucid but only just, slow and lethargic in his responses to our questions. “Ed, I’ve got just a couple of questions for you. D’you think you can handle that?” He nodded, rubbing at his eyes. I produced three items from the ‘lost and found’ - an ancient baseball glove, the scribbled signature on it faded beyond legibility, a cracked crockery dish, and an silver-backed mirror. “Can you tell me if you recognise any of these?” Ed leaned forward, his eyes travelling from one object to the next. Then he reached out and slowly turned the mirror over to read the engraving, lips moving as he muttered it under his breath. I saw the familiarity with which he handled the object. “You recognise that?” “All of them.” “From where?” He stared at me stupidly for a moment then blinked furiously, as though trying to wake his mind up. “Kellie’s shop.” “Kellie? Who’s Kellie?” “Sandra’s sister, Kellie. She has an antique shop.” “Can you explain how these items ended up in the bar you visited that night?” Ed stared at me again, then shook his head. “I don’t ... understand. Don’t understand...” “Where is Kellie’s antique shop, Ed?” “J...Jefferson.” “Jefferson Avenue?” He looked uncertain, but nodded. “Jefferson Avenue?” Scully echoed. “That’s where the bar -” Ed nodded again. “Next door.” “There’s no antique shop next door to the bar,” Scully said, looking to me. I held her gaze. “Not in this world.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - I knew what he was thinking but it infuriated me that he was treating his theory as irrefutable truth. I needed some sort of science I could work with. Was that too much to ask? “Say these worlds were aligned, somehow,” he ranted as we emerged into the sunlight. “What if with some event, like Lance Wessex’s shooting, they *shifted*, creating some sort of tear in the space-time continuum that objects have been falling through for years and now Ed Wright himself? If -” “Mulder, this is all conjecture!” I almost shouted it at him. “You’ve given me nothing more than theories, nothing! Not a scientist who can testify to any possibility of this, not a shred of proof!” “Ed Wright, he’s your proof, Scully!” “Mulder, we don’t know for sure that he isn’t just making the whole thing up!” “I believe him, Scully.” “That‘s not enough proof!” He was growing frustrated now. “How else would he know about Lance Wessex? How else do you explain the objects he identified?” “Mulder, you *told* him where you found them! He’s just playing with us. He’s making the whole thing up, either consciously or subconsciously.” “Why would he do that?” I shook my head, hurt more than angered by his refusal to listen to reason. “His story was like a fairytale, a perfect life with a perfect wife. Sometimes people want to believe so badly that they lose the distinction between truth and fiction. They live a lie so totally that it starts to feel real.” He shook his head, looking away as if disgusted. I reached out and touched his upper arm. “Mulder..” He turned back to look at me, his eyes intense, scared. “This feels real.” I knew we were no longer talking about Edward Wright. “This *is* real.” “I can’t be certain, Scully. I can’t just dismiss the possibility that -” “You just have to trust me, Mulder. Trust me like always. You know I wouldn’t lie to you.” “What if you’re wrong?” I stood silent. I didn’t have an answer. He shook his head and started to walk away. I didn’t chase after him but took my time, walking slowly back to the car. He sat waiting for me, half out of the driver’s seat, arm dangling through the open car door window. As I slid into the passenger side he drew himself back into the car and closed the door, reaching for the ignition. “I know why you want to believe so much that this is true,” I said quietly, before he could start the engine. “You just want an explanation of why Erin came back, just like all of us. You’re jumping at any theory, no matter how groundless it is, because you’re afraid to admit that it was God.” “It wasn’t God.” I gazed at him, trying to assess his thoughts. That denial hadn’t rung true. It lacked conviction. “We’re all struggling with it, Mulder. You, me, the kids. We’re all too stubborn and self-reliant to let ourselves believe that somebody else is in charge o-” “It wasn’t God!” he repeated fiercely. The sudden vehemence in his voice almost made me jump. I felt a flutter of kicks in my womb and I slipped a hand inside my jacket to rub my belly, trying to soothe the baby, trying to calm myself with the same gesture. Mulder and I were both getting too emotional. I hated when we fought. I reached for my seatbelt, strapping myself in, and gestured to Mulder without actually looking at him. “Let’s head home.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - Jacqueline was with the kids when we got home, Ebony hovering in the distance while Jacqueline, Noah on her lap, watched as Josh and Astrid played Snap with Erin. The kids were far beyond the game, of course, and it was played purely for Erin, who loved it. Scully went to change but I stayed, just watching as they sat around the coffeetable, playing slowly enough for Erin to keep up. My heart was heavy with anger and guilt over our argument and I realised I shouldn’t have come back here. I needed some space from the whole issue and all the emotions that came with it. I waited til Scully had reemerged from our bedroom to go myself and change into sweats and sneakers, pulling on my baseball cap. “I’m going out for a while,” I announced. That didn’t really surprise any of them. Things got claustrophic sometimes and we took time out from each other, whether it be to go for a jog or take the kids shoe-shopping or for ice-cream. What surprised them - and me - was when I asked, impulsively, if Astrid wanted to come with me. She looked interested. “Where?” “For a jog,” I decided. “Think you can keep up?” She grinned, jumping to her feet. “Give me two minutes.” We were out for almost an hour, jogging side by side, my steps deliberately shortened to let her keep up. Her stamina surprised me - only as we were returning home did she start to slow, and even then was reluctant to admit it. We had been pretty much silent the whole way, save a brief exchange as we were heading out - “Good day at school?” “Not great, but it was okay.” “Things are getting better?” “Yeah. What are you and Mommy fighting about?” “Just a case.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - JACQUELINE POV - I knew they were arguing about something, but to be honest, I didn’t care. My own problems were weighing too heavily on my mind. Ebony was watching me, staring at me from across the room with those dead, mournful eyes. Noah was a heavy weight on my lap, not asleep but not moving either, just sitting watching the world as though mimicking Ebony. No giggles or laughter, rarely even a smile. Even Josh, always so pensive and grave, had been a happier baby. Why was Noah so quiet, so dull, so unloveable? Or was it because of me, because of the life we’d given him, that the surroundings and emotions he’d absorbed since birth had already left him a sad, hopeless individual? It was a horrifying thought, and yet, I was numb to it. I didn’t care any more. I transferred my gaze to Erin, transporting the deck of playing cards in her Tonka truck, tipping them out and bulldozing over them. She was talking to herself, giggling, calling out to me and Josh and Dana to watch her and play with her. Josh was in the kitchen helping Dana organise dinner. I would have offered to help, but my bandaged hands allowed little dexterity. I was at the point where I could feed and dress myself, though it was tedious. For everything else I needed Anneliese, my new nanny, housekeeper and chauffer. She generally worked one-on-one with the disabled and the elderly, according to her resume, and being my hands for the time being was, as she put it brightly, ‘An interesting change’. It was a bearable arrangement, but I was still going crazy at being so handicapped. I needed to get back to work. I needed to get some control back over my life. “Jacqui?” Dana indicated for me to join her in the kitchen. Josh unobtrusively snuck out of the way and sat on the floor with Erin, producing a storybook to read with her. I rose, awkwardly letting Noah to the ground. He sat for a moment, then started to crawl toward Erin’s trucks. I left him for Josh to watch and went into the kitchen. “Was it a bad fight?” I asked, wanting to quell any chance there was that this conversation was going to be about me. “We’ll survive it.” She gazed at me evenly. “Do you know what you’re doing, yet? About the pregnancy?” I sucked in a deep breath, my skin prickling. “I got rid of it.” Dana bit her lip, still gazing at me, then she nodded. She understood. I let out my breath shakily. “You going to be okay?” I nodded slowly. “Yeah. Eventually.” She touched my back. “We’re here for you, all of us. Don’t forget that.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - There was no easy way to tell Edward Wright that we had reached the end of the road with our investigations. He sat fidgeting as I explained the lack of facts and the difficulty that presented us with in moving further, protesting hollowly as I told him the conclusion that ‘we’ had reached. Mulder just hovered behind me, hands on hips. He was still mad at me but I was loathe to start another argument. The interview was in Ed’s small cell of a room and although the days were getting warmer, the radiator sitting against the wall was on. I was sweating inside my suit, calculating the risk of taking off my jacket and letting the world see the unmistakeble bulge, when the meeting seemed to come to an end and we showed ourselves out. “We shouldn’t just give up,” Mulder said shortly. His strides were longer than mine and although I picked up my pace to keep up with him, he still beat me to the car, searching his pockets. “Do you have the keys?” “You had them. I didn’t touch them.” “I had them. I don’t have them now.” He looked as though he were about to lose his temper. “I’ll go back,” I told him quickly, trying to defuse the tantrum. I turned away and went back into the building, flashing my ID. “Forgot my keys.” The receptionist barely glanced at me before nodding, gesturing for me to go on through. I headed toward Ed’s room, assuming that the keys had been lost during our meeting, but when I arrived there the room was empty and the keys nowhere in sight. My quick search turned up nothing and I went back out, scanning the corridor. My eyes were on the ground and although I saw the shadow behind me, it was too late. An arm across my neck and my gun, ripped from my holster, cocked and pressed against my throat. I bit back a gasp, my body stiffening, every sense going into overdrive. “I don’t want to hurt you, Agent Scully,” Ed whispered urgently. “I just need you to help me get out of here.” “You’re free to walk out whenever you please, Ed,” I told him quietly, careful not to antagonise. “As soon as you can prove that you’ll keep taking your meds -” “I don’t need meds!” He pushed me away from him, reaching for his head in frustration. “I’m not sick. I’m not mental. *They* make me sick, all those pills.” “You’re under a lot of stress.” He waved the gun at me. Even if the initial diagnosis had been incorrect, he certainly seemed unbalanced now. “Don’t patronise me!” “Ed...” I reached slowly for the gun. “Nobody needs to get hurt here. Give me the gun back.” He pulled away from me. “You’re not going to talk me out of it! Just stay back, okay? Put your hands up or something.” I obeyed slowly, lifting my open hands. In the silence that followed I could hear my own heart beating. “What are you going to do?” Uncertainty flickered in his eyes. “They won’t just let you walk out of here,” I said softly. “Not after this. But if you give me the gun we can talk with Dr Goldstein, make some sort of deal.... If you do something stupid now, you’ll never get out of this place.” “They think I’m crazy!” “Don’t give them proof.” “They don’t need proof. They -” He broke off at the sound of voices, what sounded like nurses coming around the corner. He winced, shifting from one foot to the other in the agony of indecisiveness. Then he grabbed my arm, tugging me back to his room, pulling the door closed after us and jamming a chair under the doorhandle. I glanced around apprehensively. My first appraisal had been correct - it was a cell. And now I was the prisoner. Yet, still, I didn’t fear for my life. This man wasn’t a killer. He was just pushed to the brink. “What are you going to do, Ed?” I asked quietly, watching his every move. He was pacing behind the door, peering out through the small rectangular window every second or so. “I’m a federal agent. If they find out you’re holding me hostage they won’t hesitate a second about shooting to kill. We don’t want that.” “I’m not holding you hostage!” he hissed. He was really coming undone. I had to be careful I didn’t push him too far. He moved across to the window, considering the drop. We were on the third floor and it looked like the windows were locked shut anyhow. How far would he go? “If you give me the gun, nobody ever has to know that this happened, Ed. If Dr Goldstein declares you fit to leave you can be signed out of here tomorrow. You can go back home.” “I can’t get home!” “Your apartment -” “That’s not my home! Not anymore. I don’t live in that apartment. Don’t you get it? I don’t live in this *dimension*!” “If you leave here today, where are you going to go?” No response. I took a step closer. He gestured with the gun. “Sit down. Stop moving all over the place. You’re making me nuts. Just sit down or something.” I sat on the edge of the bed, still watching him. There was a rattle of metal in his pocket as he moved and I realised something. “You took my partner’s keys. You wanted him to come up here to find them, not me, because he believes you.” “He knows how to get me home.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - What the hell was taking her so long? Sick of waiting in the sun, I went back into the hospital. “Did Agent Scully come through here, about ten minutes ago?” I demanded, impatient. The receptionist, in the middle of a phone call, shushed me and indicated for me to go through. I bit back a sarcastic thanks and made for the elevator. We’d barely reached the third floor when I heard a scream. I scrabbled to prise the doors open and ran out, drawing my weapon. Two nurses were standing outside Ed Wright’s door, in panic mode. Their eyes only grew wider when I appeared, weapon in hand. I drew my badge. “What’s happening?” One of them, flustered, gestured to the door. “Edward has a gun. He’s holding it on a woman, in there, pointing it at her...” “Is she okay?” I pushed them aside, looking through the small observation window and craning my head, but I couldn’t see Scully. Wright was blocking my view. I banged on the door. “FBI! Put the gun down and open the door!” “Get away!” Wright yelled. “Ed, it’s Agent Mulde-” “I said, get away!! Everybody stays far away as possible or I’ll shoot her!” I didn’t believe him but I still hesitated about calling his bluff. What if he really was unhinged? I couldn’t take that risk. I took a step back and turned to face the nurses and small crowd of patients and staff who had gathered, again holding up my badge. “I need everybody to go downstairs. I want this floor cleared.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - “Why did you tell Mulder to go away?” Ed was pacing. “I’m not stupid. The two of you would overpower me. He’d be armed. He’d tackle me or something.” “You need him.” “I need to get out of here. You know everything he knows. You can help me.” “I can’t help you.” “Why not?” “I don’t believe your story.” He shook the gun at me. “That’s why I’ve gotta get out of here. To prove to all of you that I’m not loony, that everything I’ve told you is true.” I wasn’t so much afraid of him as I was of the way he was handling the gun. The safety was still off and with the way he kept waving it around... “Can you put the gun down, Ed? Can we just talk?” “The second I put the gun down your partner out there is going to storm in -” “Not if he can’t see you. Just move away from the door and put the gun down, then sit down and -” “You’re trying to trick me. You’re going to grab it as soon as I put it down, or you’re going to tackle me-” “Ed, I don’t want you to accidently press the trigger, that’s all.” He hesitated. “You’ll try to gr-” He was at least half a foot taller than me, and at least thirty pounds heavier. “I wouldn’t try. I don’t want you to hurt me.” A show of good faith, I moved further along the bed, away from him. I knew he wouldn’t intentionally hurt me. I just had to win his trust, bit by bit, until I had negotiated my way out of there and left both of us unharmed. As long as Mulder didn’t try to play hero... Ed’s eyes were darting over me, curious. Slowly, he laid the weapon down on the chair propped against the door. Feeling a little lightheaded, I let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good. Now we can -” I jumped as my celphone started to ring. Ed lunged for the gun but I was quick to put my hands up in the air. “Just my phone.” His fingertips danced over the barrel of the gun before he pulled back, leaving the weapon where it lay. He was twitching again. He nodded. “Answer it.” I put the phone to my ear. “Scully.” “Are you okay?” “Fine. Both Ed and I are fine. We’re just going to have a chat. Can you keep everybody out of the way?” “I cleared the floor but somebody called the cops. They’re surrounding the building as we speak.” I looked across at Ed. He sat on the floor against the wall, fidgeting, glancing up at me every other second. He started to get to his feet, watching me impatiently, shifting from one foot to the other. “Don’t let anybody do anything,” I told Mulder uneasily. “This doesn’t have to get messy.” “Okay, that’s enough,” Ed decided suddenly, reaching out for the phone. “Enough. You’ve said enough for now. Give me the phone.” I ended the call, passing him the phone. He put it down carefully on the chair beside the gun. He started to pace again and the room fell silent. I could barely hear anything from outside in the corridor. What was happening? I looked across at the radiator, still warming the room. I felt badly overheated but didn’t know how Ed would respond if I asked to turn it down. I hesitantly started to unbutton my jacket. Ed was watching me like a hawk and though I was careful not to make any sudden movements, I was more nervous about taking off my shield, my disguise. I wanted to be an FBI agent in this situation, not a vulnerably pregnant woman. I eased my jacket off and lay it on the bed by my side, holding my breath. Raising my eyes again, I saw that a calm had come over him and Ed was staring at me with something akin to wistfulness in his eyes. “You’re pregnant.” The observation was sad, almost awed. Almost afraid to answer either way, I stayed silent, only pleading with my eyes. “Sandy and I started trying for a baby last July,” he said softly. “Got pregnant almost straight away. We both want kids, so... She’s five months along. Almost six, by now. She was only showing a little, the last time I saw her. She must be bigger now.” I gazed at him, not afraid but saddened. “You must miss her badly.” He nodded convulsively. “She’s my world.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - Badge aloft, Skinner pushed past the police officer. “Where are they?” I stopped pacing only long enough to indicate Wright’s room. If Scully believed she was safe I would trust her judgement, but hell if I could just be cool about it. Wright was calm enough now, but what if he snapped? “If this patient is violent, why wasn’t he in the closed ward?!” Skinner demanded. “He’s not violent, he’s just desperate,” I answered tightly. “Sir, I need to go in.” “I thought Scully told you to stay put.” “It’s been half an hour since I called. Her phone has been switched off. They’re out of view through both the observation window and the larger one. I need to know what’s going on.” “If she told you to stay out here she must have everything under control. He hasn’t harmed her?” “Not that I know of.” “How is he restraining her?” “I don’t know. She didn’t say. Sir, I have to make sure that she’s okay.” How had he managed to get her gun? Had he tackled her, sent her flying to the ground? I didn’t know what we’d do if something harmed this baby. “Just hold onto your horses, Mulder. Obviously we want to get Scully out of there as soon as possible, but negotiation is the best approach here. You say he’s not violent, then chances are he won’t harm her. I say we -” “She’s pregnant.” “What?” “She’s twenty-one weeks pregnant.” I knew he’d be angry at us for withholding the information. We’d promised him after Erin was born that we’d confer with him before we ever considered having another child. Of course, at the time we hadn’t planned more than Erin. We certainly hadn’t planned it to be ...well, unplanned. “Sir, if anything happens to her or the baby -” He stared at me grimly, then glanced down at his watch. “Fifteen more minutes then we’re going in.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - They were silent outside in the corridor. Though the walls and door were thick and the room almost soundproof we’d been able to hear murmurings of conversation in the hall. Now it was silent. Even Ed, hunched over against the wall, noticed it. He got to his feet unsteadily. “What’s going -?” He didn’t get to finish his sentence, let alone reach for the gun. The door was kicked in and half a dozen police and FBI flooded in, surrounding him, handguns pointed at his head. Ed didn’t have a chance. He cowered, starting to sob as they screamed orders at him. I stood slowly, watching as they cuffed him and started to read him his rights. Mulder pushed past them, Skinner behind him. Mulder grabbed my hands, checking me over. “You okay?” I nodded, not looking at him or at Ed but at Skinner, aware that in the turtleneck I was wearing my pregnancy was obvious enough. No more hiding it. But he wasn’t looking at me. He was gesturing the paramedics to come check me out. “I’m fine,” I told him, annoyed, when he did finally look at me, concern written in his eyes. Mulder had told him. “I’m pregnant, not handicapped.” I pushed the paramedics away as they tried to look me over. “He didn’t touch me,” I said shortly, watching as Ed was taken, screaming, from the room. I just wanted to get out of there. The whole experience had just been disturbing. I just wanted to shrug it off and go home. I bent down to pick my jacket up from the bed and about three pairs of hands reached out, about to catch me as if I were about to topple over. I retrieved the jacket and straightened. Skinner was frowning. I thought maybe Mulder would be shrugging sheepishly but he was frowning, too. I growled in frustration and pushed my way out of the room and along the hallway. Footsteps thudded after me and I turned at the elevator to look at Mulder. “Skinner says you’ve got to get checked out at the hospital.” “Mulder, he didn’t touch me! I’m fine. The baby is fine.” “Skinner said you’re not allowed back to work til you’ve gotten the all-clear.” I stared at him, annoyed. He half-shrugged. “Come on, Scully. I was stuck out there the whole time not knowing what was going on. I just want to see for myself that everything is okay. Just humour me?” I was tired, I realised suddenly. I didn’t have the energy to argue. The elevator arrived and he tugged me on. He must have seen the sudden weariness overcome me because he drew me close and kissed my forehead, holding me against him. “I was scared, too,” I admitted, snuggling against him with a sigh. “But we got through it.” “I just don’t want to lose you,” he muttered, rubbing my back. “You’re my world.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - ASTRID POV - Kathy picked us up from school just after lunch, saying that Mom and Dad had a small ‘situation’ at work and Daddy had rung asking her to take us home. They always did that, because they knew that when something went wrong at work we knew it and we worried. Thing was, I didn’t know anything about it this time til Kathy turned up at my classroom door. My teacher was used to me leaving suddenly after everything with Erin and didn’t object, though a couple of the kids kinda gaped at Erin in the stroller. They knew how sick she’d been and they’d all heard about how she’d died and come back. I guess they were just amazed by how normal she looked. I didn’t know whether to be scared or not as Kathy and I walked down to Joshie’s classroom. Had I just lost all my ability to sense these things? No, I hadn’t. I could feel Kathy’s nervous impatience. She was worried about Mom and Dad. But even if I couldn’t sense it for some reason, Josh would surely be able to, and he would have come and told me during lunch. If neither of us could feel what was happening, did that mean it was no big deal or so big we couldn’t fathom it? We sat around the table, trying to prise information out of Kathy, but all she knew was what Daddy had told her, that there was a situation at the mental hospital and that Josh and I might be worried about it. I wished that he’d rung Duckie instead, or even me, because he would have told us more. How serious was it? It hadn’t really sounded like he was in trouble, but Mommy hadn’t talked on the phone. Had she been hurt? No, he would have said something. Unless he didn’t know. What if he didn’t know how bad it was? What if it was really bad?” “Ted...” Erin tried to climb up onto my lap. I pushed her away but she tried again, starting to whine. “Ted...” “Go away!” I snapped at her, pushing her back harder. She stumbled a little then crouched down on the ground, looking up at me with hurt innocence, lower lip trembling. I felt horribly guilty. The poor baby just didn’t know what was going on. She was confused and instead of reassuring her I’d pushed her away from me. I climbed down from my chair and crouched beside her on the floor. “I’m sorry, Erin. Come here.” I sat down and pulled her onto my lap, cuddling her. How come it had gotten so hard lately just to hug my little sister? “Apple juice.” A hand held out a spillproof cup and I took it, giving it to Erin. She took it, then climbed up off my lap and went to go play with her toys. Josh offered me a hand up. I looked at him. Are they okay? Is everything going to be okay? He smiled a little and nodded. Everything’s fine. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - Another baby girl. She was wallowing, kicking occasionally, sucking her thumb. I just watched, mesmerised, following the tiny moving bundle. “Look at her. She’s training for the Olympics.” I glanced down at Scully, glad to see I’d elicted a smile. She was watching the monitor as intently as I had been, amazement on her face. I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed it. I’m sorry we fought. I can’t tell you how much I love you. I returned my gaze to the monitor. The baby was developing almost before our eyes. To think all the years I’d spent searching and here was one of the most awe-inspiring things I’d ever seen. I caught a flash of movement reflected in the black of the monitor and I turned around. Skinner was peering through the observation window, looking for us, maybe. I met his eyes, knowing I was grinning like a cheshire cat. He half-smiled and nodded in acknowledgement, then disappeared from view, leaving us in peace. Whatever he had needed to talk to us about came second. At least now we all knew and acknowledged that. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - She insisted on stopping by to see Ed Wright again on the way home. They had him in five-point restraints and although he was sedated he was still conscious, weeping, grieving. I hung back in the doorway as Scully approached him. He turned to look at her, sweaty and sobbing and dishevelled, the wild eyes of a madman. “I’m sorry, Agent Scully, I’m sorry...” She took a step closer so that she was standing right beside the bed and she reached down her hand to touch his. “I can’t imagine the grief of losing everything,” she whispered. “I’m sorry that we can’t send you home.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - The kids ran down to meet us before we even got out of the car, Astrid making sure that Erin got the first hug. Erin actually seemed the most upset of the three of them - Josh and Astrid weren’t as anxious as I thought they might be, though I wasn’t sure how much they had been told. I hugged Erin closely against me, then passed her on to Mulder. Astrid threw her arms around me, pressing her face against my stomach. Josh was hanging back and I drew him closer as Astrid hugged me. He clung to me, letting out a sigh. We needed to hug Josh more often, I realised. Just because he didn’t demand the affection or come in search of it didn’t mean he didn’t need it. We went up into the apartment and I had a quick shower, needing to get out of my work clothes, to rid myself of the day that still clung to me. When I came out of the bathroom I found Mulder stretched out on the bed on his side in jeans and a knitted sweater. He tilted his head, eyes sparkling. “Git over here.” I climbed up onto the bed and scrambled across to him. He lifted his hands to cup my cheeks and kissed me, his mouth so warm and soft on mine. No man I’d ever known had been able to both arouse and comfort with a single kiss like Mulder could. He never failed to overwhelm me. Little fists pounding on our bedroom door. We pulled apart, a little sheepish, tugging our clothes straight as Erin managed to turn the knob and came running in, climbing onto the bed and throwing herself at us. “Dinner?” she pleaded. I glanced at the bedside clock. It was only just past five - our returning home earlier than usual had confused her. “Not yet, sweetie.” She pouted, wriggling out of my grip and turning to face Mulder. Second opinion. “Dinner for monkey?” “Nope.” He shook his head. “Not yet.” “Daddeeeee,” she whined. He grinned and pulled her onto his lap, tickling her. He let her go and she dived under the comforter, giggling as she wriggled her way to the end of the bed. I nudged Mulder gently. “Has anybody talked to the kids about what happened today?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so.” “Maybe we should do that now.” - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - The kids had opened a bag of chocolate-chip cookies and we passed them back and forth between the five of us. Our last family conference had been tense and emotional and this one was thankfully calmer, each of us comfortable. Astrid, myself, Josh and Scully all propped up against the pillows on our bed, Erin climbing over our feet, it was almost like a bedtime story. “You believe him,” Josh pointed out quietly when Scully finished her narration. I glanced across at her curiously to see her reaction. Her chin was down, her gaze on her hands as she cupped her stomach. She looked up, nodding slowly, a wistfulness in her eyes. “I do,” she acknowledged quietly. She looked across at me. “Sometimes you have to, even when there’s no evidence. It’s just a leap of faith.” Message received, loud and clear. I half-shrugged. Okay, so I couldn’t honestly deny that it was God who had brought Erin back to us. I couldn’t prove that it was, either, but I could believe in the possibility. That was a start. The cookie bag was being passed back along. I took it from Josh. When would we address his voices, I wondered. We couldn’t, not now. I didn’t know yet what to say. But it wasn’t something we could ignore infinitely. This was another obstacle that we could and would conquer, and the sooner, the better for Josh. You’ll be okay, kiddo, I promised him silently, watching as he crawled onto Scully’s lap. She put her arms around him, kissing the top of his head. “Every human life is precious,” she said quietly. “God isn’t angry at you for whatever part you played in bringing Erin back. If the voices say otherwise, don’t listen to them. You did nothing wrong. You only used the gifts that God gave you.” He wasn’t looking at any of us. “What if they’re not from God?” “If He didn’t intend for you to be able to do these things, you would never have existed, Josh. He would have put a stop to things before you were even conceived.” We’d seen so many things during our time together, experienced the unbelievable and been challenged by concepts that threatened the very understanding of existence. And still, whether she realised it or not, her childhood faith in God had held strong. I admired it, though I envied it. “Dinner!” Erin shrieked, lunging at us. Astrid grabbed her and pulled her little sister onto her lap, hugging her, whispering teasingly to her and making Erin shriek and giggle. I lumbered past them and climbed off the bed, grabbing Astrid under the armpits and swinging both her and Erin up into the air, putting them down on their feet on the carpet. “How about burgers for dinner?” “McDonalds burgers or real burgers?” I gave Astrid a look of affrontment. “*Real* burgers.” “Burgers?” Erin echoed, not recognising the word. “Dinner,” Astrid explained to her, and Erin grinned, dashing out to go in search of them. Astrid followed. Josh had quietly climbed off Scully’s lap and was following Erin out the door. I almost stopped him, but I let him go, knowing that he had already heard my thoughts. Most importantly, he knew that we cared, that we wanted to help him. Scully was pulling on shoes. I watched her for a moment, relishing her. Going to her wardrobe, I sorted through til I found her brown suede coat. I shrugged it off the hanger and held it out to her. She looked at it in surprise. “I haven’t worn that in years.” “Why not?” She smiled, pressing her face against the fabric and sniffing. She held it out for me to do the same. I smelt my own cologne, grass and fresh earth. A baseball field on a starry night. She smiled sheepishly. “I was.. preserving the memory.” “We’ve got a lot more memories now.” “I know. But the early ones matter too.” I nodded, watching as she pulled the jacket on and as she then gazed at her own reflection curiously. I stood behind her, one hand pressed against her back, and rested my chin on her shoulder. She smiled at me in the mirror and giggled when I put a kiss on her neck. She gave me a gentle push. “Come on, the kids are waiting.” I nodded. My feet were still bare. “Just give me a minute.” As I pulled on my sneakers I watched my own reflection in the mirror. I felt an inner calm. The panicky screams of doubt within me were silenced. This was real. I had this beauty in my life whether I deserved it or not. “Daddy! Come on!” Astrid came running in, grabbing my hand and tugging me to my feet. “Let’s go!” I let myself be dragged out through the apartment and led downstairs. Scully and Josh were already at the car, buckling Erin in. I caught the keys that Scully tossed me and I grinned at her, glad to be alive, to have so much. But for the grace of God... “Let’s go get some burgers.” fin.