DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Char Chaffin and Tess
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@chaffin.com, and
Tnv099@aol.com

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -


PART FOUR



~ Chapter Thirty One ~


Along the ridge of encrusted ice and snow the men crouched, waiting.
There was no relief to be had from the unrelenting cold - none.  It
tore at their eyes and ate through layers of thermal underwear, heavy
polar-fleece and Gore-Tex and goose down feathers.  The hairs in
their nostrils froze together and those sporting beards were in pain
from their facial hairs freezing not only upon their faces but also
together, forming a lump of ice on their cheeks.  It hurt to move...
it hurt to breathe.

None of the men complained.

They lay in the snow, using it for insulation, their bodies indented
within small human-sized trenches, and they waited for the seals to
come.  In the later months of winter the seal herds had already moved
inland and had found solace in the slightly less-frigid temperatures
of the lakes surrounding Barrow and the smaller villages.  The seals
were slower, sluggish this time of year, relying on their body fat to
get them through the harshest months when food was very scarce.  They
moved at a plodding pace and were much easier to kill.  

It had been decided the village would need five small seals or three
large ones.  That much meat and fat would get them through the year
easily.  The hunting parties only went out for seal in the late
winter, before the pups were born - usually late March.  Only the
secondary male bulls were taken, the cows and pups left alone and the
main stud within the herd spared as well.  If the herd was large
enough finding at least three bulls was usually not a problem.

Today, it was a problem...

The herd they tracked was small.  There were numerous cows, some
already pregnant.  The stud was enormous and bellowed regularly as he
reigned over his harem.  The secondary bulls were scarce, though. 
The men sighed in frustration, knowing if they were lucky they'd get
maybe two.  And there was no question raised about the possibility of
taking a cow.  It simply wasn't done...

Patrick was closest to the smaller bull.  Unmoving in his trench, in
the dark he was almost impossible to see, and the seals' eyesight
wasn't all that great to begin with.  The snow helped to cut down on
his human scent and the seals could not smell the men in their midst.
They lounged at the edge of the small lake and the bulls honked while
the cows squealed at each other.  They huddled together to preserve
precious body heat and the frigid temperatures made them lethargic
and slow.  A full moon shining above illuminated the night and the
herd, making them easy to track.

Patrick edged closer, on his stomach in the snow.  Next to him,
coming out of his own trench, Mulder slid forward as well.  Slow,
easy... stealthy.  Ignoring the clenching deep in his belly, at the
thought of what he was about to do.  He was a subsistence hunter.  He
was adopted Inupiaq.  He hunted to provide vital meat and fat for his
village.  He hunted to live.

He was about to kill a seal.  It was a tough thing to swallow...

Mulder loved seals.  He always had, from the time he was a boy and
had become fascinated with Alaska.  He had read many books about
Alaska, learning all about the Native Alaskans and how they survived.
The hardest thing he'd had to accept was their practice of whaling
and sealing.  Whales were graceful, majestic and almost mystical. 
Seals were, well... sweet.  It was the only way he could describe
them, with their big round eyes and cute faces.  Seals were tender
and vulnerable and took excellent care of their pups.  

Now, all these years later, Mulder found himself living a life he'd
only fantasized about as a boy, never imagining in a million years
that he'd actually get a chance to live that way himself.  To be
faced with an existence such as this - he would never have dreamed. 
And yet... he was happy.  Happier than he'd ever been, happier than
he perhaps deserved to be.  He had everything he wanted, would ever
want, or need.  The boy had become a man, and then within the last
several months the man had become an Alaskan.  

Mulder shook off the squeamishness and the guilt at what he was
about to do, and sighted down the shotgun.  A second bull lay in the
snow several yards from his brother.  Mulder lined him up, knowing
that not far away from him Bill was also locked onto the seal.  If
Mulder missed Bill would get him.  And on the other side of Patrick,
Skinner was poised and ready.    It was time...

Mulder aimed carefully, then rose up on his knees and pulled the
trigger.  The kickback threw him into the snow behind him, the roar
from the shotgun and the sudden frightened bellowing of the herd
deafening him to the shouts of his friends as they quickly dispatched
the second bull and allowed the rest of the herd to scatter.  Mulder
scrambled to a crouching position and called to Patrick.

"Are they down?"  Patrick's shouted response was raw from the icy
air they were forced to breathe.

"Yeah!  Both of 'em.  Not moving.  We can go in, but be careful."  

Slowly they moved in and surrounded the two fallen bulls.  As Mulder
approached the bull he'd killed, he fought to keep his emotions out
of the equation, choosing instead to think about all the necessary
products this bull would yield them.  Meat for their tables and fat
to be rendered into oil; fur to line a parka - or a crib.  He looked
down at the breadth of the pelt, and figured there would be more than
enough for Scully to line the crib... And as he inched closer with
the rope in his gloved hands, preparing to truss the seal and get it
ready to drag out, the seal's big round eyes suddenly opened... and
looked straight at him.  Mulder's jaw dropped and he stood as if
turned to stone in the drifting, loose snow, staring down into the
animal's eyes, which were filling with blood.  Mulder gaped in horror
at what he'd done to this wonderful, sweet creature.

Then the seal's snout shuddered, and its muzzle opened... and in a
voice that sounded like broken glass and thick oozing sludge, it
spoke to him...

"While you stand in smug victory over me, back in your safe little
village your woman dies, Mulder... was your desertion of her worth my
death?"

Mulder fell to his knees in the dark red-tinted snow as the impact
of the words pounded into him, stabbing deep and twisting as he
screamed, and screamed... 

*****************

"SCULLY!!!  Jesus, no, SCULLY!"

He awoke with a hoarse cry of terror most absolute, lodged so deeply
in his throat that he choked on it as he sat up in the pile of
sleeping mats.  Next to him Bill grunted as Mulder's knee came into
jarring contact with his spine - but he never woke up.  On the other
side of him Patrick snored loud enough to rattle windows, if they'd
had any in their hunting tent to rattle.  Likewise Skinner and Manly
were dead to the world, huddled together on the other side of the
tent.  The air inside was cold, even with the warm air blowing in
from the portable propane furnace they'd left running outside, its
hose vented in through one of the flaps.  Mulder dropped his face
into his hands, unable to get the nightmare out of his mind.

He had learned from experience to trust these dreams, visions...
whatever the hell they were.  He might have questioned the having of
them, perhaps a year prior to this night... but not anymore.  Not
after what he had seen, and what he'd already lived through.  Mulder
wiped his hands over his face again and nudged Bill, hard.

"Hnnnhhh, whuzzit..."  Bill flopped over on his back groggily and
peered up trough the early morning darkness, the dim glow from the
safety lantern they hung on the outside of their tent providing
minimal visibility.  Mulder poked him again, impatient.

Bill, wake up.  We gotta go back.  Now.  They're in trouble."  Bill
came awake in a hurry at the urgent words and sat up next to his
brother-in-law, staring at him in the gloom.

"What - trouble?  How do you know?  What's happened?"  Patrick awoke 
and sat up, rubbing at his eyes, as Mulder called to Skinner
and Manly.

"We have got to GO.  Now.  It's gonna take us a couple of hours to
get back as it is."  Mulder stood up, his head bumping into the tent
roof, and searched around on the floor of the tent for his boots. 
Patrick and Manly just stared at him as if he'd lost his mind, but
Bill and Skinner nodded and began gathering up boots.  Neither man
questioned anything; Skinner had already seen the effect of Mulder's
dreams and Bill had already witnessed enough to make him a believer
in Sasquatch and leprechans...

Mulder explained it to the other men as best as he could while they
broke up camp and loaded everything onto the mobile trailers.  The
dream had been horrifically real; the significance of the bloody seal
not lost on Patrick and Manly.  And Mulder could not shake the
urgency and the overwhelming feelings of doom.  Their village was in
trouble, along with Scully and their unborn child...

He knew it with total certainty.

********

"Matty," Beverly called.  "Bring your pail over here."  She glanced
over her shoulder and beckoned to the little boy.  Matty trundled
across the barn.  His small pail banged against his legs as he ran,
sunflower seeds flying out and scattering over the planked floor. 
Beverly shook her head and pointed to a spot next to her.  Matty slid
to a halt and tipped his head back, aiming a sunny smile at the
exasperated woman and melting her heart.  She ruffled his hair and
bent low to whisper in his ear.

"If your Uncle Mulder knew how many sunflower seeds you spill every
time you feed the chickens, he'd have a fit!" she told him.  Matty
giggled and dug a chubby hand into his pail, sending a shower of
seeds down toward the chickens pecking at the floor around his feet. 
He had long since lost his fear of the animals and it had become a
daily ritual for him to accompany Beverly, Sophie and Warren out to
the barn after breakfast to see to the care of the goats and
chickens.  Like most mornings, however, he quickly grew bored with
the chores and he set off to investigate all of the dark and musty
corners of the barn.  He knew that the adults would soon be finished.
That meant it was time for their morning game of hide-and-seek.  

Beverly was watching out of the corner of her eye as Matty ran
toward his favorite hiding spot and her lips quirked up in a tiny
smile.  Even though they knew exactly where he would be hiding - he
hid in the same place every day - she and the others would make a
show out of looking for him in every corner and crevice of the barn
until he couldn't hold in his little boy giggles any longer and his
tinkling laughter would give away his hiding spot. 

Beverly leaned over the goats' pen and lifted a bucket brimming with 
warm milk over the top rail.  The milk sloshed over the top of the 
bucket as Matty's piercing shriek echoed through the barn, causing
her to whirl around.  The bucket fell from her nerveless fingers, 
milk  spilling over and around her booted feet as she saw the little 
boy dangling in the grip of a dark-haired stranger.  The man stepped 
further into the barn and she could see the silver muzzle of a gun 
aimed at Matty's struggling figure.

"Who are you?" she gasped as she took a step closer to the stranger
and the frightened child.  "What do you want here?" she asked. 
Beverly could feel Sophie and Warren breathing down her neck as they
crowded behind her.  

"Put the boy down!" Sophie demanded imperiously.  The stranger's
eyes flicked over the old woman dismissively and he refocused his
attention on Beverly.

"Where is Agent Mulder?" he asked in a low voice.  Beverly's heart
beat even faster as she wondered how this man knew Mulder and how he
had managed to track him to Mt. Vu'luk.  She licked suddenly dry lips
and said nothing.  The stranger tightened his grip around Matty and
pressed the muzzle of the gun against his tiny chest.  Beverly
inhaled sharply and lifted her hands imploringly.

"Please," she begged.  "Don't hurt him.  He's just a baby."  Her
eyes pleaded with the dark-haired man for mercy but he merely cocked
his head to one side, patiently awaiting an answer to his question. 
Beverly struggled for a moment; afraid to give this man the
information he was seeking and even more frightened not to.

"Mulder isn't in the village right now," she told him honestly.  She
shivered as a pleased smile broke over his coldly handsome face.  He
glanced at the whimpering child in his grip and then back toward the
frightened trio standing across from him.

"Then I want you to go and get Agent Scully.  Bring her here.  Tell
her an old friend has come to call."  He gestured stiffly toward
Beverly with his free hand.  She nodded and began to creep toward the
door.  Her heart broke as Matty held out his arms.

"Bevawee," he sobbed.  "Can I come with you?"  Fat tears streamed
down his round cheeks as he strained away from the frightening man
who held him in a crushing grip.

"Please," Warren implored.  "Let her take the boy with her.  We'll
stay here with you," he promised as he looked down at Sophie.  The
old woman nodded decisively and turned toward the stranger.

"You are frightening the child," she told him.  "Let him go.  We'll
stay."  She drew herself up to her full height and glared at the
stranger who barked out an ugly laugh.

"The boy stays here," he said. Glancing at Beverly with a ruthless
smile, he prodded her along.  "You'd better hurry," he advised in
cold, controlled voice.  She gulped down a frightened sob and ran
from the warmth of the barn.

*********

Scully was sitting in a chair at her desk and Mary was leaning over
her shoulder, studying something on the computer when the door burst
open and Beverly flew into the clinic.

"Da... Dana," she gasped.  "Come quickly," she cried.  Scully
struggled out of her chair and turned to face the distraught woman.

"What is it, Beverly?" she asked.  The other woman's eyes were wide
and dark with fright.  "Is someone hurt?" she asked, reaching for her
parka.  "Is it Sophie?" she wondered as she looked around the room
for the small bag that contained her stethoscope, blood pressure cuff
and other pieces of medical equipment.  Beverly shook her head and
tried to control her breathing.

"There's a man, a stranger in the barn," she began.  "He... he's got
Matty and he's demanding to see you."  Scully looked up sharply.

"Who is he?" she asked as she pushed her arms into the sleeves of
her coat. "Did he give you a name?"  Beverly shook her head again.  

"No, he didn't say," she told her.  "He said to tell you that an old
friend had come to call," she quoted.  Scully's brows furrowed as the
three women stopped near the door.  

"What does he look like?" she asked.  Beverly paused to collect her
thoughts.

"Less than six feet tall," she began.  "Dark hair and dark wicked
eyes," she said as the stranger's face appeared before her mind's
eye.  "Handsome, I suppose, but cold and evil."  Her hand gripped 
Scully's arm tightly.  "Dana, he has no soul."

Scully shuddered and covered the older woman's hand with her own.
"Get Reverend Jon," she said quickly.  "Then I want the two of you to
go and get Tara.  But you must not let her come barreling into the
barn," she warned quietly.  She turned to look at Mary.  "Maybe you
should go with her," she suggested.  "Beverly is going to need all
the help with Tara that she can get."  Mary shook her head and laid
her hand on Scully's arm.

"Beverly and my father will be able to handle Tara just fine," she
said.  "I'm coming with you."

The women hurried out of the clinic and Beverly raced toward Mary's
cabin to get Jon Honea.  Scully and Mary started toward the barn when
Scully stopped and looked over her shoulder.  She cursed herself for
growing comfortable and lazy.  She had believed they were safe in Mt.
Vu'luk.  Now her palm itched for the familiar feel of the gun stashed
safely away in the top drawer of her bureau.  She looked toward the
barn and saw a shadow moving across the doorway, pacing back and
forth.  With a heavy sigh, she turned away from her cabin and
continued on toward the barn.  The women moved as quickly as possible
but Scully was six months pregnant and her tiny frame was heavy with
her first child.  She stopped and bent forward, gasping for air, and
her hand rubbed at a stitch glancing low across her belly.  Mary
leaned over her friend and wrapped a supporting arm around her back.

"Are you alright, Dana?" she asked worriedly.  Scully nodded and
straightened.  Mary left her arm firmly around Scully's waist and the
two women cautiously traveled the remaining twenty yards to the dim
entrance of the barn.

Scully stepped warily into the barn and looked around the gloomy
interior.  She saw Sophie and Warren standing about fifteen feet
away.  Their eyes were glued to something to her left.  She spun and
saw the shadowy figure of a man, clutching a sobbing Matthew in his
arms. Scully peered into the shadows, trying to make out the face of
the man who stood hidden in its recesses.  Then she shivered as a
familiar voice floated out of the darkness...

********************

Mulder bent low over the handles of his mobile, willing the damned
thing to move faster. The wind blowing past his face was so biting it
constituted a raw, constant ache; the gore-tex facemask providing
just enough protection to save him from frostbite.  His thickly
gloved hands had a death-grip on the handles and he revved the engine
too much as he pushed up the speed.  He was driving recklessly, still
not familiar enough with the terrain to drive that fast.  Any second
he could hit a chunk of hard snow or a rut of ice, and upend into the
snow, breaking his fool neck.

At this moment such small potatoes could not bother him...

His wife was in danger.  Mulder knew this as well as he knew
anything of certainty - and yes, he was basing it all on a very odd
dream centering around a dead bull seal with blood in its eyes that
spoke to him.  

In the past he'd had less to go on...

They'd been riding for more than an hour and they had at least
twenty more miles to go.  The final few miles were especially rough
because they would have to cross Ruk Lake, which was riddled with
large chunks of trapped glacier ice.  They would have to zigzag
through the bigger obstacles and it was so dangerous... Mulder would
have to slow down or else he'd surely kill himself.

He couldn't slow down... his life, his whole existence was in
jeopardy.  And he didn't know who, or what, threatened his people. 
He only knew it was happening; had most likely already begun.  Mulder
gritted his teeth behind the thick face-mask, and pushed ahead,
knowing that the other men would eventually catch up; of necessity
they drove at a slower pace. They were pulling the sleds full of seal
meat and a smaller sled filled with their camping gear leaving Mulder
unencumbered by weight and able to fly low.

Five minutes later Ruk Lake loomed before him; the headlight from
his mobile shining on and accentuating the jagged surface.  It took
Mulder three seconds to figure out if he would slow down or maintain
his speed.  He was almost hyperventilating with fear; it permeated
his skin and choked him deep in his lungs.  Fear that he would arrive
too late; that whatever monster had arrived at his village and
endangered his loved ones would attack before he could reach them.

Mulder took the rim of the lake at a cool seventy miles per hour,
and the mobile arced over the first embankment and went airborne over
ice chunks and ruts of snow...

*******************

"Dana Scully.  Well. Well. Well.  It IS you."  Scully swallowed
convulsively as the man stepped into the light and his low voice
scraped over her raw nerves. She saw his eyes fall to the swollen
mound of her stomach and a smile of unholy delight crossed his face. 
She smoothed a protective hand over her swollen stomach, damning
herself for not zipping up the parka before stepping into the barn.

"Krycek," she spat with false bravado.  "How the hell did you manage
to escape the virus?" she demanded bitterly.  "The only good thing I
could see coming from this scourge would have been to know that you
and the men you worked for had been taken from this world by it." 
She struggled to keep her voice calm, but the sight of her nephew
clutched in the grip of one of her greatest enemies, the barrel of a
gun pressed against his tiny body, was almost more than she could
bear.  Krycek jostled Matty a bit, securing his grip on the child as
he walked in a slow circle around Scully.  Mary stood at her side and
laid a bolstering hand on her back.

"Oh, my... employers," he said slowly, "have met with a most
unwelcome fate.  But when the first reports of the swarming bees
began to surface last summer, I decided it was in my best interest to
head north."  A grin slashed over his handsome face.  "Imagine my
surprise a month or so ago to hear stories about a couple of FBI
agents in Alaska who were controlling the spread of the virus by
burning the infected bodies."  He lifted a brow as he continued to
circle the two women in a slow, predatory manner. "Imagine my
interest at hearing tales of a lady doctor working on a vaccine
against the virus."  Believing Krycek to be distracted, Warren
tightened his grip around the heavy battery powered lantern in his
hand and stepped forward.  Scully caught the movement from the corner
of her eye and she shook him off, knowing better than anyone what
Krycek was capable of.  The life of one old Inupiaq man would mean
nothing to him.

"I simply had to come see for myself," Krycek taunted.  "And imagine
my delight at seeing you so... full of life."  His smile was evil as
his gaze settled greedily on Scully's lush form.  "I know a number
of... well, people really isn't quite the right term," he said
conversationally.  "I know a number of interested parties who will be
very pleased with me for finding you in such a fertile state."  He
crept closer, turning his body to the side to keep Matty out of her
reach and lowered his lips to her ear. "And they said it couldn't be
done," he whispered.  Scully couldn't hide the frightened shudder
that shook her as his hot breath washed over her ear and neck. 
Krycek backed away from her, putting several feet between them.

"Let Matty go," Scully said in a hoarse voice.  She didn't beg,
knowing that Krycek couldn't be moved by emotion.  He tilted his head
to the side and glanced down at the little boy who was watching his
aunt with frightened eyes.  

"I'll trade," he offered suddenly.  Scully's eyes snapped away from
Matty's and up to Krycek's.  "You for the boy," he offered in a
falsely generous tone.  Scully heard Mary's frightened gasp and felt
her friend's hand tighten on the fabric of her parka.  Scully
swallowed with difficulty, terrified to put herself and her unborn
child in this murderer's hands. But the alternative was equally
unbearable.  She had no doubt that Krycek would not hesitate to hurt
or kill Matty to force her cooperation.  She nodded grimly.

"Put him down first," she said.  Krycek glanced around at the
collective gasps of fright from the other adults in the barn at
Scully's instant acceptance of his terms.  He pursed his lips and
nodded thoughtfully, carefully lowering Matty to the ground.  He set
his hand down on the boy's shoulder and the gun lay menacingly across
his fragile chest.  Krycek held out his prosthetic arm and jerked his
chin, beckoning her forward.  Scully threw a look over her shoulder
at Mary and felt the younger woman's hand reluctantly fall from her
back.  

Scully moved a few steps forward until she was almost within reach
of Krycek and Matthew.  Her nephew reached out and caught the leg of
her jeans with the tips of his chubby fingers.  Huge tears rolled
down his cheeks as he pulled away from the restraining hand clamped
onto his shoulder.  Krycek tapped the pistol against the tiny bones
of Matty's shoulder and stared hard into Scully's eyes.  She took the
final step that would allow him to transfer his grip from her nephew
to herself.  He let go of the child and wrapped his arm around her
waist, pulling her against his lean body.  Matty clung to her leg and
Scully bent down to him.

"Run to Mary," she whispered.  "Hurry, Matty."  He lifted wet,
frightened, blue eyes to hers and his chin wobbled as fresh tears
spilled down his cheeks.  Mary squatted down on the floor and held
out her arms.

"Come on, Matty," she called softly.  "Come on."  Matty's fingers
tightened in the denim fabric of Scully's pants and she smoothed the
fingers of one hand over his hair.

"It's okay," she promised.  "Go on."  Matty let go of her leg and
turned, tiny legs pumping as he flew to the safety of Mary's waiting
embrace.  She swept him into her strong arms and stood, turning her
body to create a shield between the child and the man menacing her
family.

Krycek's hand slid lewdly over the swell of Scully's belly.  She
swore she could feel the cold metal of the gun burning icily through
the heavy fabric of her pants as his hand roved over her body.  She
swallowed the bile that rose in her throat as he bit the soft lobe of
her ear.

"Agent Mulder's work?" he asked as his hand slid under her sweater. 
Scully kept her face turned away from his and bit back a sob as his
fingers dipped below the elastic waistband of her pants.  She
shivered as the cold muzzle of the gun caressed her bare skin.

"Is this Agent Mulder's child or something unspeakable growing
inside of you?" he taunted mercilessly.  Scully was unable to hide
the moan that tore from her throat as he easily touched on the hidden
fear that had nagged her from the moment she'd learned she was
pregnant.  Her involuntary reaction must have told him enough, for
Krycek grunted in satisfaction and he touched his tongue to her
delicate lobe, sending another shudder of revulsion through her
shivering body.  "Hmmm... either way, quite an interesting reaction,
Little Mother..."  Scully hissed in revulsion.

Suddenly Krycek pulled his hand and the gun from beneath her
clothing and draped it over her shoulder.  He wrapped his prosthetic
arm around her middle and began to herd her toward the door.

"Time to go, Dana," he said in a brisk, businesslike voice. "We've
got a hot date with a couple of futuristic best buddies."  The words
forced an almost inaudible gasp of pure terror through his captive.

Scully's mind worked feverishly as she thought of and rejected
several methods of escape.  She could not allow herself and her baby
to be taken from this village.  As they cleared the door of the barn
and stepped outside, she pretended to stumble.  Twisting as if to
regain her balance, she viciously sank her teeth into the flesh of
his good hand.  His grip loosened slightly as he howled with pain and
she turned again, slamming the heel of her hand into his nose.  Blood
spurted over his face and he screamed.  He knotted his fingers in her
hair and brutally yanked her head back as he swung at her with the
other arm.  The prosthesis caught her across the face and pain
exploded in her head.  Her knees buckled and she would have fallen if
not for the fingers roughly twisted in her hair.  Her vision grayed
and she heard a low snarling sound over the ringing in her ears.  

Nanook crouched low and bared her fangs.  This stranger had invaded
her home and was threatening her people.  Saliva dripped from her
jowls and a growl vibrated through her chest as Krycek yanked Scully
upright by the hair.  The dog leapt onto Krycek's back, her sharp
fangs sinking into his shoulder and he stumbled into Scully, throwing
her heavily to the ground and knocking the air out of her lungs.

Krycek and the dog fell.  The man rolled onto his back and Nanook
loosened the grip of her powerful jaw long enough to scramble out
from beneath him.  Krycek viciously kicked out, catching Nanook
across the snout with his booted foot.  The dog fell back and Krycek
stumbled as he tried to gain his feet.  Scully painfully pulled
herself up onto her knees and wrapped her hand around her stomach. 
She shook her head to clear her vision and saw Krycek raise his gun,
taking aim at the dazed dog.  

Scully closed her eyes in despair and turned her head as a shot rang
out in the icy darkness of the winter morning.

***********************


~ Chapter Thirty Two ~


The shot echoed clearly over the roar of Mulder's snowmobile as he
rounded the last corner of the outer circle of cabins, and roared to
a stop almost on top of the body, which lay bleeding in the snow.  In
the darkness, with only a dim light from the open door of the barn,
it was impossible to know for sure who or what lay in the snow just a
few yards from the rudders of his mobile...

Then he heard the sweetest sound he had ever heard in his life; it
was hoarse and raw with fright and pain but it was alive, Thank You
Jesus... 

"MULDER!"  

From out of the darkness Scully threw herself at her husband,
gaining his side and burying herself into his heavy parka as Mulder's
arms snapped around her and he crushed her to his trembling frame. 
His embrace was too much; both of them aching so fiercely for the
contact and the comfort of each other that they were oblivious to the
bruising they would suffer tomorrow at their own hands.  Vaguely in
the background he could hear the roar of the other mobiles as they
gained the clearing and shut off; he saw Skinner running to Mary,
scooping her and Matty up into his big arms; heard her sob out her
lover's name above the child's whimpering.  

Mulder pulled his face out of Scully's hair and smoothed the tangled
strands away from her wet face, urgently demanding, "Baby, are you
all right?  Not hurt?  I heard the shot... tell me what happened!  I
knew you were in danger..."  That was as far as he got, for Scully
nodded wearily, not surprised in the least that her husband had
somehow known.  She pointed to the bleeding, silent mound on the
ground and her voice came out in a broken croak. 

"It's Krycek... Jesus... he found us, I don't know how but he did. 
Tried to take me with him and Nanook attacked him..."  She looked
frantically around for the fallen dog and sighed with relief when she
spotted Nanook lying in the snow licking her sore flank and still
growling low in her throat as she eyed the fallen lump of humanity
that she'd helped to bring down.  Mulder cooed at the dog
reassuringly, receiving a thump of her tail as an answer, and then he
swung his attention back to Scully.

"Who shot him, Baby?  Warren?"  Scully shook her head.

"I don't know, Mulder.  Not Warren, I'm sure of it..."  Her words
skittered to a stop as the small shaky voice of her sister-in-law
piped up from behind them.  They both whipped about - and there stood
Tara, clasped in her husband's embrace, both of them shaky with
delayed reaction - and in Tara's hands was a shotgun.  Her parka
and jeans were covered with snow; she must have been flung to the
ground with the force of the gun's kickback.  In the watery light of
the barn her face glistened with tears.  Skinner had set Matty
carefully down on his feet and the little boy had run to his mother,
wrapping his little body around her legs and sitting on her booted
feet, also covered in snow. Matty didn't seem to notice how wet he
was getting...  Tara exhaled on a shuddering breath and her words
were thick with emotion.

"I did it.  I killed the bastard.  He touched my Matty, the son-of-a-
bitch... he threatened you and the baby.  He touched my Matty..." 
Her voice quaked to a stop and she began to cry, sliding out of
Bill's arms and landing on the ground next to her son.  She threw the
shotgun aside and pulled the boy into her arms and hung on tightly,
rocking him as they both sobbed.  Bill knelt down next to them in the
snow and wound his arms around them both, whispering brokenly to his
wife of his pride and his unending love for her, and her bravery...

And Mulder let go of Scully and walked slowly to the bleeding form
on the ground, their enemy... brought down by a civilian, and a
woman, no less... brought down by a mother fiercely protective of her
child and her family.  His teeth bared themselves in a ferocious grin
as he bent over Krycek's still body, noting the weak rise and fall of
the chest.  The bastard was still alive.

He reached down both hands and grasped the dying man's collar,
pulling him up sharply, until in the dim light he could see the blood-
streaked face of his sworn enemy.  One of Krycek's eyes was swollen
shut; Mulder glanced inquiringly over at his wife and Scully shrugged.

"I hit him in the face... after I bit him."  Mulder allowed himself
one sharp bark of laughter, before he turned his attention back to
the piece of shit in his fists.

"I'll let you die in peace, you fucking mutant... if you tell me who
sent you here.  How you found us.  Don't tell me and I'll let Nanook
have another go at you."  As if to punctuate his words the big dog
jumped to her feet and loomed over Mulder's shoulder, growling with
terrifying menace into Krycek's dead-pale face.  Under his hands
Mulder could feel the man's fright at the thought of becoming a chew
toy for the huge Husky... but he pressed his lips tightly together
and refused to speak.  His undamaged eye began to fill with blood as
he stared up into Mulder's grim face.  The significance of that
bloodied eye was not lost on Mulder, who clamped down tightly on the
residual fear his nightmare could still produce.  Now was not the
time for that sort of analysis... he shook Krycek's limp body, hard
enough to rattle his teeth, and demanded again.

"Come on, you utter fuck... you're dying.  I know you're afraid of
dogs... something I always remembered about you.  Nanook would love
to play some more, wouldn't you, Girl?"  As if to answer him the big
dog whined and ran a slick tongue over Mulder's ear, her head still
poised over his shoulder - then she growled deep in her throat again
as her large eyes narrowed and she stared down into Krycek's battered
face, her sensitive nose twitching at the metallic smell of his blood
and the tangible stink of his fear.   

Krycek shuddered as he eyed the dog, but his mouth remained shut
tightly and he refused to speak.  He was dying and he knew it; what
was the point of giving Mulder anything else?  It was as if Mulder
could read these thoughts as he held fistfuls of his enemy's parka in
his hands and encouraged a dog to growl, snap at and generally
threaten an unarmed man.  And in his heart Mulder knew he'd get
nothing further from the scum whose coughing rattle caused a fresh
flow of blood to stain his bearded chin bright red, and whose last
gasping words told him nothing for they were spoken in his native
tongue...

"Byeschelovyechnoye e zhestokoye znayet, gde nayti poslyedniye
ostatki chelovyechestva, moy drug..." 

Mulder cursed a blue streak under his breath, fury beyond measure
assailing him as Krycek's last words thwarted him yet again.  Goddamn
it to hell... Russian; the bastard had eluded him even in death.  But
as he fought down the urge to tear his enemy's body into a million
chunks, Warren's soft, hesitant voice piped up. 

"I know what that means, Mulder.  I can speak Russian... I know what
he said."  And in a quavering yet decisive voice, Warren translated.


"The inhuman know where to find the last remains of humanity, my
friend..." 


Mulder dropped the dead man into the snow and stood up, turning his
back on one less threat to their future - and at that moment refusing
to dwell upon the significance of the bastard's final words.  He
walked slowly to his wife's side and wrapped his arms around her,
hugging her tightly.  In the silent early morning a child's sniffles
could be heard above his mother's hitching sobs, and as Mulder turned
and met his brother-in-law's worried eyes, Bill Scully stared at his
sister and her husband, and his voice was husky with emotion.

"Dana... you're all right."  It was more of a statement than a
question and Scully smiled reassuringly at her brother, taking a few
steps forward still holding Mulder's hand, and reaching out to grip
Bill's free hand with hers.  Bill tugged and Mulder let her go as
Scully found herself wound into her brother's embrace.  She patted
and rubbed at his back.

"I'm okay, Bill.  I might end up with a shiner -"  she touched
underneath her left eye gingerly, where Krycek's arm had caught her -
"but other than that I'm fine."  She looked up at Bill and smiled
again.  "You should take Tara and Matty home... we should all just go
home."  Bill nodded wearily and hugged her once more before letting
her go.  Scully stepped back into Mulder's arms and she watched Bill
gather up his family and herd them off, down the street.  Warren
headed back into the barn to secure the pens and check on the goats'
feed bins and Beverly gave Scully and Mulder both a hug before
allowing Patrick to walk her home.  Manly offered his arm to Sophie
who took it gratefully as they walked slowly up to her cabin.  And
Skinner led Mary off, but not before Scully latched onto both of them
and hugged them tightly.  A three-way embrace; two small women as
different to look at as night and day but with identical courageous
hearts, and the big man who cared so deeply for them both.  Mulder
fought down a lump in his throat at the sight of Skinner holding Mary
and Scully.  He could have lost her so easily today...

****************


Scully allowed Mulder to lead her into the bedroom of their cabin. 
She sat down on the edge of the bed and waited as Mulder left the
room and fussed about in the kitchen.  He returned a few minutes
later with an ice pack in hand.  He cupped her uninjured cheek in one
hand and tilted her head to the side.  Pushing her hair behind her
ear, he carefully examined her face.  Scully's cheek was swollen and
a bruise was beginning to form just below her cheekbone.  A small
amount of dried blood was caked along her hairline from a shallow cut
just above her ear.  He ground his teeth together to keep the fury
from spilling out of his mouth at the injuries on her delicate skin,
and gently pressed the ice pack to her cheek.  Scully sighed and
covered his hand with one of hers.

"What happened?" Mulder asked as he settled down onto the bed beside
her.  She leaned against him and he wrapped an arm around her
shoulder and she began to tell him about Beverly bursting into the
clinic with news that a stranger was at the barn asking for her. She
closed her eyes as she remembered stepping into the barn and hearing
Krycek's voice float out of the shadows.

"When I got there, Krycek was holding Matty and had a gun pressed
against his chest," she murmured.  "Matty was so scared," she said in
a trembling voice.  "I asked Krycek to let him go.  He said he would
make a trade.  Me and the baby for Matty."  She felt Mulder's arm
tighten around her shoulders.  "I didn't know what else to do, so I
agreed."  Scully tilted her head back and looked up into her
husband's face.   His eyes were dark and angry and his jaw was
clenched so tightly she knew it would ache when he finally relaxed. 
She pressed into him pleadingly.

"I'm sorry, Mulder," she whispered.  "I couldn't let him keep Matty.
You know as well as I do that Krycek wouldn't have hesitated to kill
him."  Her eyes begged him to understand.  Mulder looked down into
her earnest face and his features softened.  He fought down the
anger, realizing she'd really had no other options.

"I know, baby," he said as he smoothed a shaking hand over her hair.
"You did the right thing; the only thing you could do." Scully nodded
and drew in a deep breath, determined to finish the story and put it
behind them.

"He put Matty down and grabbed me," she told him quietly.  "I told
Matty to run to Mary and then Krycek began pushing me out of the
barn," she said.  She chose not to mention Krycek's wandering hands
and lewd comments, knowing they would only make Mulder crazy.

"I knew I couldn't let him take me from the village so as soon as we
were far enough away from Matty and the others, I pretended to
stumble.  Then I bit him and smashed my hand into his nose."  She
looked down at her palm and then up at Mulder.  "I think I broke it,"
she said.  Mulder's eyes glowed with pride and she smiled as she
recalled the satisfying sensation of feeling Krycek's nose shatter
beneath the impact of her blow.  

Scully glanced away and hurried through the rest of the story.  "He
hit me across the face.  My ears were ringing and everything was
swirling around me.  I could hear Nanook snarling as she attacked and
I fell.  I saw Krycek get up and aim his gun at the dog and then...
God, everything happened so fast.  I heard the sound of a gunshot and
then suddenly you were there and Krycek was dying..." Her voice
trailed off and she slumped against him tiredly.  Mulder was quiet as
the horrific scenes played out in his mind's eye.  He didn't want to
see it again; re-hash it all again - but he had no control over the
images that began plaguing him.  Scully, threatened by that piece of
shit.  Scully hit across the face... just the thought of Krycek
touching her in any way was enough to send him close to the edge... 

Scully set the ice pack down and rubbed a hand over her hip.  Mulder
caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and looked down
sharply.

"Are you hurt?" he asked worriedly, gesturing toward her hip. 
Scully shrugged.

"Just a little ache," she assured him.  "I landed on my hip when I
fell."  She pulled her hand away and smoothed it over his cheek. 
"I'm fine," she told him.  But Mulder wasn't going to be brushed off
by her standard denial and he began to press her back against the
pillows.

"I want to see.  You're rubbing at it, Scully - it can't be that
fine."  Scully tried to stop his hands from undressing her.

"Mulder," she protested.  "I promise you, everything is okay," she
said, but he was determined to see for himself.  He peeled her shirt
from her shoulders, leaving her clothed in a long-sleeved fleecy
undershirt, and began to tug at the elastic of her maternity pants,
pulling them down her legs.  Scully blew out a frustrated breath and
submitted, allowing Mulder to see for himself that she was fine.  She
propped her head up on a pillow and watched her husband trace
trembling fingers over a bruise that stood out against the fair skin
of her thigh.  Another bruise was beginning to form and peek out from
beneath the leg opening of her underwear.  Mulder grabbed the
waistband of her underpants and pulled it aside, trying to determine
how large the bruise was.  His sharp hiss of indrawn breath was loud
in the little room.

"What is this?" he asked in a low voice.  Scully peered down and saw
his fingers touching several angry, red scratches that marred the
skin over her swollen belly.  She frowned, confused for a moment by
their origin and grimaced in remembrance.  She should have learned by
now that she couldn't keep secrets from Mulder, she thought.  Scully
sighed heavily and pulled his hands away from the scratch marks,
tugging her clothing back into place.

"When Krycek grabbed me in the barn," she said slowly, grasping his
wrists in her strong grip, "he seemed surprised and happy to see that
I was pregnant.  He told me that he knew a number of 'interested
parties' - was the way he put it - that would be thrilled to know I
was pregnant."  She caught and held Mulder's gaze with her own,
determined to get through this quickly.  "You know the way he was,"
she said.  "Always taunting, mocking his prey."  Mulder nodded,
willing her to continue.  Whatever she was about to tell him, he knew
he was not going to be happy to hear it.

"He slid his hand under my clothes and was whispering in my ear." 
She shivered as she remembered the way the moist heat of his breath
had wafted her flesh.  "He asked me if this was your baby or an
abomination growing inside of me."  Her chin quivered and she fought
for control. She had to get through this and get it over with.  "I
guess his gun scraped my skin, although I wasn't aware of it at the
time."  She shrugged it off.  "They don't even hurt," she assured him.

Mulder's hands clenched into the fabric of the quilt covering the
bed and his arms shook with the desire to go out and rip Krycek's
body apart with his bare hands.  Jesus... the filth had put his hands
- AND his gun - on Scully's bare body.  Her pregnant belly - right
over the place where their child, innocently grew and thrived.  
Mulder ached to bring the bastard to life again just so he
could have the extreme pleasure of killing him - this time slowly. 
With great torturous pain and suffering... The fact that the man was
already dead simply wasn't good enough, he thought as he looked at
his wife's bruised body splayed out on the bed beside him.  Scully
felt the tremor ripple through Mulder and she slid her hands up his
arms, trying to soothe him with her touch.

"I'm alright, Mulder," she said.  "I'm fine and so is the baby," she
promised.  "It's over.  Please, try to let it go."  She tugged on his
arms until he was stretched out alongside her. She rolled onto her
side and pressed her burgeoning stomach against him.  "We're both
okay," she murmured again.  The baby chose that moment to begin
stretching and kicking vigorously inside her womb.  Scully winced and
then laughed softly.

"See?" she asked, as she smoothed the hair that had tumbled over
Mulder's forehead out of his eyes.  "Everything is fine."  She
pressed her lips to his and held the kiss until she felt him begin to
relax.  She sighed in contentment as he rolled onto his back and his
arms stole around her, gathering her close.  She nestled her cheek
against the warm flannel of his shirt and felt the vibration of his
voice as it rumbled through his chest beneath her ear.

"How do you think he found us?" Mulder asked.  Scully shrugged. 
This was the fear that had been nagging at her from the first second
she had clapped eyes on Krycek in the barn.

"I'm not sure," she said worriedly as Mulder stroked his hands over
her back.  "He said that he went north when the bees were first
released," she remembered.  Mulder snorted mockingly.

"Yeah, he's always been good at saving his ass," he said bitterly. 
Scully lifted her head and her voice was filled with savage pleasure.

"Not today," she reminded him.  Mulder nodded.

"No.  Today he met his match," he said and they shared smiles of
grim satisfaction.  Scully stacked her hands on his chest and propped
her chin on them.  

"He said that he had been hearing reports about a couple of FBI
agents in Alaska and of a female doctor working on a vaccine," she
told him.  "He told me he just had to come check for himself."  She
shrugged again.  "I don't think he was sent here by anyone or
anything," she said slowly.  Mulder lifted a tendril of her hair and
began to rub it between his fingers.

"Still," he said ruefully.  "We're obviously not doing a very good
job of maintaining a low profile."  Scully nodded and bit her lip. 
She nestled her stomach against his hip and her eyes were worried.

"Do you think it's safe for us to stay here?" she asked.  "Krycek
found us easily, and I don't think he was actually looking for us." 
She cast her eyes around the room that had become a safe haven for
them and then her gaze returned to Mulder's.  "We might be putting
everyone we love in danger by staying here," she said slowly.  "Maybe
we should consider leaving," she whispered.  Mulder stroked her hair
and briefly considered her suggestion, dismissing it instantly.  They
couldn't leave here... they needed the village and the village needed
them.  It was as simple as that.  He shifted and rolled onto his
side, resting his hand on her belly.

"And go where?" he asked.  "No," he shook his head.  "We can't
leave.  You're six months pregnant and we're living in one of the
most remote parts of the United States.  We wouldn't stand a chance
on our own.  And besides, you have to finish your work on the
vaccine.  No," he repeated.  "We're not going to be driven out of our
home again.  We'll just have to be more vigilant."

Scully nodded, relieved.  She didn't want to leave Mt. Vu'luk and
her family and friends.  Hearing Mulder put into words what she had
been thinking helped solidify things for her and she nodded
resolutely.

"Okay," she agreed and smiled at him.  Mulder smiled back softly and
stretched against the quilt covering the mattress.  He groaned as the
aches and pains caused by his bone-jarring race across the frozen
tundra made themselves known.   He nestled down into the pillows and
wrapped his arms tightly around Scully, burying his face in her hair.
She was warm and alive in his arms and for the first time since he
had been ripped from sleep this morning, he allowed himself to relax.
  
Scully felt Mulder's muscles loosen and ease as sleep claimed him
and he slumped against her.  She glanced at her watch and briefly
considered slipping out of the bed to go to the clinic for the rest
of the day, but quickly decided against it.  She didn't want him to
wake up and find her gone.  She knew that he needed her to stay close
so that he could touch her and reassure himself that she and the baby
were safe.  She needed that as well.  Decision made, she snuggled her
aching cheek into the soft pillow and wrapped her strong arms around
her husband's sleeping form.  And in the mid-morning darkness of
their bedroom, she kept watch.

********************

For Bill Scully the early evening brought idle time - and an excuse
to think and to dwell on the day's events.  He had managed to avoid
it most of the day; finding numerous projects around the cabin to
keep him busy.

He worked his whittling; Jon Honea was teaching him how to carve and
Bill's first lessons centered around practicing on wood pieces. 
While Tara and Matty slept in the big bed, Matty muttering in his
sleep, Bill whittled and kept the fire in the pot-bellied stove
roaring and cleaned out the water tank and finished several small
repairs in the kitchen.  He ate a simple lunch of leftover rabbit
stew and made a trip to the cache to pull enough caribou steaks for
dinner.  He was afraid to drift very far from the cabin, worried that
Tara might wake up screaming from a nightmare.  Luckily although her
sleep wasn't very solid it didn't appear she was having bad dreams.  

Mary had generously offered to take Meggie over to her cabin so that
Tara and Matty could sleep undisturbed, and Bill had been grateful
for her kindness.  As much as he'd wanted Meggie with them, he knew
the rambunctious little girl would never allow her mother to rest. 
Bill made arrangements for Michael to deliver his daughter later in
the evening.

Tara slept five hours before awakening, her arms aching from the 
kickback on the shotgun she'd fired at Krycek.  After moving the
still-sleeping Matty to his own little bed and leaving the door open
in case he woke up, Bill made her swallow three aspirins, hoping it
would help ease the soreness, and sat on the edge of the bed where
she lay, gently massaging each of her arms.  Tara watched him through
half-closed eyes as he rubbed and kneaded her skin.  He hadn't said
much of anything about the events of the morning other than his
initial anxieties over her and Matty's safety.  He'd hustled them
home and wrapped them up into the bed and his arms, and lulled them
both to sleep.  She'd awoken once from a bad dream, fighting
swaddling bedcovers that had become twisted around her hips.  She
hadn't called out for Bill, though - judging by the soft clanking of
metal in the kitchen he was attempting to fix something.  She'd
fallen back asleep.  

Now she looked up at her husband as he concentrated on the lovely
massage he was giving her, and she knew whatever was brewing behind
those Scully eyes of his would have to come out naturally - she
couldn't force him to talk about it.  Surprisingly, Tara had already
reconciled herself to the means she'd taken to secure her child's
life.  And once she'd found a way to do that she was actually damned
fine about it.  It was true that a year ago she could not have
imagined aiming a gun, much less shooting it.  Bill had once tried to
teach her to shoot but she hated guns; was never willing to try. 

Then just a few weeks ago Manly had offered to show her how to
shoot, after he'd overheard her mention to Sarah that she might want
to go out hunting with the men come summer... and Tara had discovered
herself to be quite the apt pupil.  She'd learned to shoot a pistol
and a shotgun, competently enough after a few lessons to know that if
she aimed at something especially with the shotgun, chances are she
would hit it.  And the fierce satisfaction she'd felt when she'd come
running into that deadly fray with a gun in her hands... her senses
locking on to several elements simultaneously, starting with the
yelping Nanook in the snow and the dark-coated stranger who had his
own gun trained on the dog's head ready to shoot her...  

The sight of Dana on the ground holding her stomach protectively,
and the hysterical sobbing of her child, in Mary's arms - all of that
exploded into Tara's head when she came running.  And there wasn't a
question in the world what she was going to do; she'd known it from
the first moment Beverly and Jon had burst into her cabin, where
she'd just laid Meggie down with her stuffed rabbit.  She'd known. 
So had Jon, for he'd simply hobbled over to the rocking chair next to
the crib and had sat down to watch over Meggie, leaving her free to
snatch up the shotgun from the shelf above their hall closet, her
suddenly rock-steady hands checking for ammo as she grabbed her parka
and ran out the door with Beverly on her heels.  

As she ran through the snow there wasn't a doubt in Tara's mind that
this monster would die, and by her hands.

Bill finished up the massage and just sat on the bed stroking her
hands, and Tara knew he was dying to ask her how on earth she'd known
how to use that shotgun... but she would not bring it up, not until
he spoke first.  Her Billy was stewing, and he would have to come to
a complete boil before he could get rid of whatever ate at him.  She
twined her fingers through his and held on warmly, smiling into his
worried eyes.  Tugging on their linked hands she pulled him down
until she could reach his mouth, and she kissed him gently then
whispered against his lips.

"Thanks, Billy... my arms feel so much better."  She pulled back a
little to see his face.  Bill nodded but still said nothing, his
throat  working a little, his adam's apple moving as if he wanted to
speak but could not find the words.  Tara decided to take pity on him
and start the ball rolling.  She knew her husband; he was one of
those stubborn, stoic Scullys, after all.  She'd had lots of
experience over the years, prying underneath the standard, "I'm
fine..." for her beloved sister-in-law wasn't the only Scully who'd
uttered that phrase to her.  Tara cupped a tender hand along his jaw
and her soft murmur was his undoing.

"Billy, sweetheart, please... talk to me."  At the gentle request
Bill started to shudder, and he swept her into his arms and held her
much too tightly.  Tara held him just as hard, and simply waited...
Bill buried his face in his wife's silky hair and his low voice was
raw with emotion.

"Jesus, Tara... I could have lost you both.  You and Matty.  When
Mary told me how that rotten fuck had taken Matty and held a gun to
him..."  Bill shook all over at the image of his sweet, tiny son held
in the arms of a murderer.  He'd heard the name Krycek before; knew
him to be an old nemesis of Mulder and his sister.  He'd never met
the bastard, until today... if you could call staring in the eyes of
a dying man any sort of meeting.  Bill sucked in a deep, shaky breath
and gripped Tara even harder, as he fought to purge himself.

"I should have been here.  I didn't have to go hunting; I should
have stayed behind.  Christ, Warren is a brave man but he's an old
man, Tara - and his health is poor.  What could he have possibly done
to help?  I should have stayed behind!"  His voice broke as the guilt
he'd been garnering all day finally swamped him and spilled over,
scalding him.  He'd just had to go hunting, couldn't stay home.  His
first taste of the hunt had been exciting and he'd wanted it again,
Goddamn him.  There only needed to be a four-man sealing team going
out, he knew that.  And Mulder hadn't gotten a chance to hunt yet, so
it was right that he'd gone - but Bill could have - should have -
stayed behind.  He found himself speaking those thoughts aloud, and
Tara immediately took exception to his self-depreciating words,
pulling away enough to concentrate on his face.

"No, Billy!  That's got nothing to do with it!  It wouldn't have
mattered who had stayed behind; Krycek still would have come.  He
still would have grabbed someone and held them with a gun against
their head.  Maybe it wouldn't have been our son, but it still would
have happened to one of us.  The son-of-a-bitch took us by surprise,
Bill - early in the morning when we least expected anything of the
sort."  Tara sat up a little more and her hands framed her husband's
pale cheeks.

"Listen to me.  You and the rest of the men can't always protect us.
There's safety in numbers, it's true - but we are living in a
dangerous world now.  We all need to be able to defend our home. 
Dana shoots better than anyone in this village including Mulder and
Manly, who taught me how to handle that shotgun.  I'd told Sarah I
may want to go out hunting one of these trips and he overheard us and
made the offer."  She smiled slightly at the look of surprise on
Bill's face, and added, "Well, why not?  Women can hunt, can't they? 
Manly gave me a few lessons.  I wanted to surprise you," she chuckled
a little.  "I think I succeeded, didn't I?"  Bill nodded slowly.  

She'd definitely surprised him... He found himself smiling as well,
and he gathered her close and snuggled her.  "I WAS proud of you
today, Tara... so proud.  Glad I took the rifle with me and left that
big-ass shotgun, even if the kickback landed you on your butt.  You
took out the baddie... you saved our son.  You saved my sister... you
did it."  He kissed her mouth tenderly and Tara sighed and kissed him
back, relieved his agonizing was over...

And as Bill held and kissed his wife he prayed for the strength to
get past the guilt that still ate at him...

******************




~ Chapter Thirty Three ~


"Damn it!"

Scully studied the test results for a fifth time.  "Damn it," she
swore again softly.  She set the papers on top of the cluttered desk
in the tiny office of the clinic and pinched the bridge of her nose
between her thumb and forefinger.  Dropping her eyes back down to the
test results staring up at her accusingly, she rubbed the heels of
her hands against her eyes.  All these months, she thought, and I
still don't have a workable vaccine. She pushed the papers away in
disgust.  Then pushed them a little further.  Finally, in a fit of
temper, she picked up an entire folder of papers, nearly five months
worth of test results and calculations, and threw it across the room.
It hit the wall with a resounding thud as charts, graphs and DNA
analyses floated soundlessly to the floor.  Scully felt a moment's
satisfaction and then she sank back into her chair as she watched the
papers scatter about the office.  All that work, she thought, and now
I've just gone and made more.

She pushed out of her chair and grabbed onto a table near the door,
clumsily lowering herself to her knees.  She gathered the bulk of the
papers into a haphazard pile and stuffed them into the file. 
Crawling around the floor, she ducked her head under tables and
slipped her hand beneath the tiny sofa, gathering her research and
storing it back into the file.  She thumped the folder back onto the
desk and hauled herself up, collapsing into her chair.  She looked at
the papers spilling messily out of the folder and pushed it aside to
deal with later.  Scully instead turned her attention to the computer
perched on the top of the desk.  Clicking on the toolbar, she
scrolled through a list of files, finally choosing one and opening
it.  She pulled a pad of paper toward her and began another set of
calculations.  

She knew she was close - so close to finding the vaccine.  All of
the variables were there.  It was just a matter of finding the right
sequence.  Scully squinted at the monitor, wishing yet again that she
had her glasses with her.  She was hunching over the desk making
notes and trying desperately to ignore the ever-present ache in the
small of her back.  In her seventh month, Scully was well rounded, as
the child in her womb grew daily.  She dug her thumbs into her back
and tried to focus on the information before her.

"Do you know what time it is?"

Scully lifted her head sluggishly as Mulder stepped into the room. 
"Huh?" she asked tiredly.  Mulder shook his head and leaned his hips
against her desk.  He pushed back the sleeve of his parka and glanced
at his watch.

"It's almost nine o'clock," he said reprovingly.  "You've been here
over twelve hours."  Scully nodded absently and shoved at his leg as
she tried to pull a piece of paper out from beneath him.

"I know," she said.  "But I've been busy."  She succeeded in freeing
the printout she was looking for and began to study it closely,
making small notes in the margins.  Mulder heaved an exasperated sigh.

"I saw Mary leave three hours ago," he said quietly.  Scully dragged
her attention away from her work and looked up at him.  

"What?" she asked in confusion.  Mulder crossed his arms over his
chest and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I said, I saw Mary leave the clinic three hours ago," he repeated
slowly.  Scully nodded and shrugged her shoulders as if to say 'what
of it'.  She dropped her eyes back to the computer and opened a new
file.

"I told her to go," she said as she peered at the numbers rolling
across the screen.  "Michael, Walter and her father were holding
dinner for her," she told him.  Mulder muttered something under his
breath and Scully tore her attention away from her work again.

"What is it, Mulder?" she asked in exasperation.  She was never
going to get any work done if he didn't leave soon.  Mulder was
staring at a distant point on the wall on the other side of the room,
counting slowly and trying to control his temper.

"I said that I was waiting for you to come home for dinner," he
repeated in a louder voice, turning away from his study of the wall
and locking his gaze on her.  Scully's eyes dropped away and she
fiddled with a pencil lying on the desktop.  

"I'm sorry," she began.  "But I got caught up in what I was doing...
I thought I was onto something," she finished lamely, gesturing
toward the mountain of papers scattered across her desk.   Mulder
leaned down and placed his hands on the arms of her chair,
effectively locking her into the cage of his arms.  His eyes bore
into hers intently.

"Ever since I found that vial in my pocket, you've been acting like
a woman possessed," he said accusingly.  "You don't eat.  You only
sleep when your body shuts down on you.  I never see you."  He
twisted at the waist and snatched the mouse from her hand, closing
the files and programs she was working on and shutting down the
computer.  Scully pushed her chair back and awkwardly flung herself
to her feet.

"I was working on that!" she cried as she tried to regain control of
the mouse.  Mulder used his shoulders to block her and when the
computer had shut down, he flipped off the monitor and drew himself
up, towering over her and trying to use his height to quell her
protests.

"You can't keep going on like this," he said, trying for a
reasonable tone of voice.  "You look exhausted.  Dark circles under
your eyes and you're losing weight instead of gaining," he said
harshly.  "You're pregnant, Scully."  His eyes flicked down to her
swollen belly and back up to her face... and Scully saw red.

"Well, no shit, Sherlock! I'm damn well aware that I'm pregnant,"
she snapped angrily.  "I'm not likely to forget what with your
constant nagging and everyone else sticking their nose into my
business."  She raked her hair back from her face and snatched a
rubber band out of a desk drawer, viciously snapping it around her
hair in a sloppy ponytail.  "Every day it's the same thing," she
muttered as she began tossing papers into a folder.  "Sarah ambushes
me on my way to the clinic and forces this vile-tasting tea down my
throat." She shuddered at the memory.  "Tara spends half of her time
criticizing me for not eating right or exercising enough and the
other half of the time, showing off what a wonderful, perfect example
of motherhood she is."  Scully could hear the nasty words pouring out
of her and felt helpless to stop.  She stalked across the room and
yanked open a cabinet, pulling out several small files and adding
them to the stack she was collecting.  

"Meanwhile everyone else in the village seems to think that my body 
is public property.  Poking and prodding at me and constantly putting 
their hands on my stomach without asking permission.  Everyone is an 
expert on pregnant women and everyone is full of advice and 
suggestions and criticisms."

Mulder grabbed her by the elbows, intent on reasoning with her - but
she cut him off before he could open his mouth. "I'm sick of it," she
hissed.  "I'm desperately trying to come up with this vaccine and I
don't have time to listen to all of you tell me about what a woefully
inadequate mother I am!"  Her voice was low and spiteful.

She sucked in a deep breath and tried to jerk away from his hands. 
"And I'm tired of being treated like a goddamn incubator," she said
viciously.  She tried twisting away from him and when she couldn't
break free of his grasping hands, she placed her palms flat on his
chest and shoved as hard as she could.  Dazed by her venomous
outburst and caught off guard, Mulder staggered back and crashed into
the desk, striking his hip hard on the sharp corner.  He bit off a
curse and stared at her for a long moment in stunned silence.  Scully
clapped a shaking hand over her mouth, shocked at what she'd done. 
The horrible things she'd said were echoing around the room...

Sickened by the words that had spilled out of her mouth, she
snatched her work from the desk and hurried out of the clinic and
into the frigid, arctic night.  She hadn't gotten far when she heard
the clinic door slam open behind her and Mulder's muffled footsteps
pounding across the snow behind her.  Scully gasped as he grabbed her
by the arm and yanked her around to face him.

"If you want to behave like a child, that's your prerogative," he
bit out in a low, controlled voice.  "But as long as my child's
health depends on yours, you are going to start taking better care of
yourself," he said as he pushed her forgotten parka at her.  She was
shivering as she took the coat from him and had barely shrugged into
it when Mulder grabbed her by the elbow and began marching her toward
their cabin.

"Let's go," he commanded as he steered her through the village.  He
shoved open the cabin door and glared at her until she stepped
inside.  Her eyes tracked over the room, settling briefly on the
cradle that Mulder had built under Warren's careful supervision.  It
was sitting on top of the small kitchen table and she could see that
he had been carefully applying a layer of varnish to the smooth wood.
Her eyes traced over the details of the tiny cradle and all of the
fight went out of her.  God... she was a bitch, the worst.  Scully
felt sick inside.  She stole a look at Mulder and her heart sank anew
at the stiff set of his shoulders and the locked jaw.  She could well
imagine what he was thinking...

******************

So angry... so furious.  No, past furious.  Goddamn fucking ready-to-
explode-furious.  Because he had let it go on too long... had not put
his foot down sooner.  Taking deep breaths wasn't helping.  Clenching
his fists didn't work.  Mulder stood in the center of their cabin and
forced himself not to pick up the entire kitchen table and fling it
across the room.

She had no right.  No right to endanger her health in this way.  No
right to put such a strain on herself and on his child.  No right to
refer to herself as nothing more than an incubator, Jesus... No right
to get pissy about the concern of their friends and family, who just
wanted to help in whatever small way they could... just wanted to
feel a part of it all.

As he wanted to feel a part...  and didn't.

Mulder was well aware that Scully was doing it all, and he hated the
feeling that all he'd done was provide the sperm that got her with
baby.  He couldn't help her with the vaccine because he didn't know
jack shit about it.  When he'd found the vial in the pocket of his
parks he'd been thrilled to no end, knowing he'd finally been able to
offer more than his reproductive talents.  When even the vial
contents failed to produce what Scully so desperately needed, Mulder
had felt the stirrings of failure all over again.  

It had been damned frustrating... he'd been damned frustrated for
the last six months.  And his anger was irrational because on one
level of his consciousness he could understand exactly why she was
feeling this way.  He knew Scully better than she thought.  Knew what
drove her; knew her passions and her failings and the way she
expected perfection from herself all the time.  Knew the way she beat
herself up for being lacking in any way.  He knew...

But it didn't change the fact that she was slowly killing herself,
and their child.  And that made him so blindingly furious that he
couldn't act in a rational manner; couldn't stay calm.  He sucked in
a harsh breath as he faced Scully, and strove for an even tone.
Shrugging out of his parka he hung it on a hook by the door.  

"Why don't you get changed," he said quietly as he jerked his head
toward the bedroom.  "I'm going to clean this up." He began tamping
down the lid on the can of varnish and cleaning his brushes.  Scully
hung her head and nodded, dejectedly walking into the bedroom.  She
methodically washed her face and brushed her teeth in the bathroom
and was buttoning up her pajama top when Mulder walked into the room.
Scully sat down on the edge of the mattress and watched as he
prepared for bed.  

Mulder peeled his shirt over his head and tossed it toward the chair
that sat in one corner.  He bent at the waist and tugged off his
socks, sending them sailing after the shirt.  She watched the light
from the bedside lamp play over the smooth muscles of his back as he
unfastened and stepped out of his jeans.  He rolled the heavy denim
into a ball and threw it across the room.  Scully jerked back at the
unexpected violence of his gesture.  His hands settled on his hips
and he tilted his head back as he struggled for control of his
emotions.  She saw his shoulders lift and fall in a long-suffering
sigh before he finally turned to face her.

"Why?" he asked quietly.  His face was a blend of anger, hurt and
confusion.  "I don't understand," he told her softly.  "I don't
understand how you could say such hateful things."  And she knew his
mind had locked onto the word 'incubator' and all of the horrible
connotations that word invoked.  He shook his head and looked to her
for an answer.

Scully knotted her fingers in her lap and twisted them as she tried
to make sense of it to herself.  He seemed to be ignoring the fact
that she had brutally shoved him out of her way.  It was the first
time either of them had ever laid hands on the other in anger and she
could still hear his muffled curse as his hip had collided painfully
with the corner of the desk. She had heard the nasty accusations and
bitterness flowing out of her with every word that she had spoken and
she didn't know that she would be able to explain it.  But she knew
she had to try.  She had broken something between them tonight with
her careless choice of words and the violence of her actions and it
was up to her to explain and fix it.

She cast about in her mind for the reason for her sudden outburst.
She supposed she could blame it on pregnancy hormones and while she
was sure that had a played a part, it didn't excuse or explain her
behavior.  She could feel the hurt emanating from Mulder in palpable
waves and she struggled to put into words that which had been
plaguing her for so long.

"I'm afraid," she said quietly.  That was it in a nutshell.  She was
afraid.  Deeply, unbelievably afraid.

Mulder stared at her, processing her explanation and finding it
wanting.  "Of what?" he asked in a cool, quiet tone.  Scully closed
her eyes, knowing that she was to blame for the loss of the gentle
warmth that usually colored his voice.

"Of failing," she whispered.  "Of letting everyone down.  Of not
being good enough."  She was rocking on the edge of the mattress and
let the words pour out.  "Everyone is counting on me, Mulder. 
Everyone is waiting for me to come up with this vaccine and I can't
do it.  I'm close.  I'm so damn close but I just can't figure out
what is wrong.  I check and recheck my calculations and run the tests
over and over again and I still don't seem to be able to break
through."

Mulder stepped a little closer to the bed.  "Scully," he began,
stopping when she held up a forestalling hand.  She needed to say it
all, admit to everything that had been festering inside of her for so
long.  If he interrupted her now, she might never finish.

"I don't want to be the mother of the future, Mulder," she said
softly.  "It's too much.  I just want a healthy, normal baby," she
told him.  "I'm tired of everyone offering advice and suggestions." 
Mulder frowned, but spoke in a quiet voice.

"They have a vested interest in our baby's health," he reminded her.
"And they just want to help."  Scully nodded, knowing he was right
but that didn't seem to make it any better.

"They make me feel inadequate," she admitted.  "I tell myself I'm
doing the best I can, but inside I know that I'm letting everyone
down.  I still don't have the vaccine and I'm neglecting you.  And I
haven't had a moment to enjoy this pregnancy," she said.  "I'm
cheating you and the baby and myself out of this miracle because I
just don't have the time for it."   She drew in a deep breath and let
it out slowly.  "I've been living with this unrelenting fear for our
lives and the future for almost a year.  There's no time to deal with
it and I just keep pushing it down and down and down, hoping that it
will just go away, but it doesn't.  It's always there, simmering
under the surface."  

She picked at the quilt covering the bed with nervous fingers. "And
I'm terrified of giving birth," she admittedly in a low, shamed
voice.  Mulder looked at her sharply, stunned by this last admission.
Where in hell had that come from?  

"Sarah and Mary will be..." he began but she cut him off again,
shaking her head and rubbing her hand over her swollen abdomen.  This
fear, this worry was the one she had done her best to bury the
deepest.  She had tried to ignore it and hide it from Mulder but as
her due date drew closer and her belly grew more rounded, she had
felt the fear bubbling to the surface.

"I know. I know," she said quietly.  "But if something goes wrong...
there's no doctor, Mulder. I'm the only doctor in this village," she
reminded him.  "If something goes wrong..." She scrubbed her hands
over her face and looked down at her hand smoothing circles over her
distended belly.  She hadn't wanted him to know that she had been
worrying over this.  She didn't know if it had occurred to him yet
that there would be no one to help them if something went terribly
wrong during the delivery and she had wanted to spare him that
anxiety.

"I've buried myself in the work on the vaccine because if I'm busy
running all those tests and calculations, then I don't have time to
worry about the delivery," she told him, finally admitting, in part,
what drove her to put in all of those horribly long hours at the
clinic.  "I've lived through some of the most unimaginable horrors. 
I'm 37 years old.  I'm about to have my first child - our first child
and I just... shit.  I just want my mother!"  Hot tears pricked her
eyes as she met his startled gaze with her own.  She sniffed, trying
to hold the tears at bay.  She didn't want to use her tears as a way
of softening Mulder's justifiable anger at her earlier behavior but
she could feel them welling up in her eyes anyway.  Scully kept her
face tipped toward the quilt as she finished explaining.  

"She was supposed to be here," she told him.  "I'm afraid to have
this baby without her."  Scully swiped the back of her hand under her
nose and sniffed again.  "She's supposed to tell me that all of my
fears and anxieties are normal.  I need her to hold me the way she
did when I was a little girl and tell me that everything is going to
be okay.  I need my mama..."  As her voice broke over the word 'mama'
everything inside her splintered and she lost it, completely lost it.
She'd had no time to grieve, any more than she'd had time for
anything else.  Everyone needed to mourn the loss of a loved one...
her shoulders hunched and shook as tearing sobs ripped from her
throat.

And just like that, Mulder's anger and frustration vanished into
thin air.  He stared at her, doubled over on the bed, crying as if
her heart would break - and he realized that Scully hadn't truly
cried for her family or herself.  She'd been too busy, trying to save
everyone... she'd forgotten to do what was necessary to save herself.
And if she'd felt she'd failed those people depending upon her...
well, Mulder had failed as well.  And it would stop tonight - he'd
make sure if it, as soon as he got his wife through her troubles. 
Here at last was something he could do for her; something no one else
could accomplish...

Mulder moved to her side and his hands reached for her, pulling her
into his arms, wrapping himself around her as hot tears stung at his
eyes.  She shook so hard with the force of her sobs that she was
gasping for breath, choking.  Mulder pressed her head into his chest
and hung on tightly, fighting to hold himself together for her.  It
was as if he'd lost his family all over again... that black day when
he watched Scully aim her gun at her brother and put him out of an
unending misery.  Scully had lost so much that day - and Mulder had
lost that part of her that had died along with her mother and family.

He wanted it back, badly - wanted nothing more than to give his
mother-in-law back to his wife, placing her right by Scully's side
where she needed to be.  Where Scully needed her to be... he rocked
her as she forced the pain from her heart.

"I want her, every day of my life, Mulder... I wake up in the
morning and I die a little because I can't get to the phone and call
her and ask her if breast-feeding hurts or what sort of vitamins I
should be taking or if craving salt is normal... I can't laugh with
her over some stupid thing I heard on the radio and she can't tell me
about the latest installment of those icky soap operas she used to
watch."  Scully swiped at her streaming eyes and stared up into her
husband's damp, sympathetic gaze.

"I couldn't have her hand be the first one to press against our baby
and remark how hard the little guy is kicking... and I wanted her
hand to be the first, Mulder... I needed it to happen that way." 
Fresh tears slipped over her cheeks and mingled with the ones Mulder
had let slide down his own cheeks.  

"Oh baby, I know, I do, please, Scully... don't.  You're making
yourself sick, baby - please, no more.  I would do anything to bring
her to you, I would - I miss her too."  On the edge of the bed they
sat holding each other and crying all over each other - hot tears
that burned and cleansed at the same time.  Mulder pressed tiny
kisses over her face and he breathed broken reassurances into her
ear, until she shuddered and managed to get herself under control, a
little.  

And when five minutes later she fell asleep in his arms with small
hiccups escaping through her open mouth, Mulder kept a tight grip on
her and drew the quilt over both of them.  Cradling her close, even
in sleep - easing her pain, he hoped.

Easing his own.

*****************



~ Chapter Thirty Four ~


In the few weeks since Krycek's discovery of their refuge and his
death, Bill Scully had been afforded plenty of time to think.  The
guilt he'd carried ever since that fateful day, that he should have
been in the village to defend it - well, it wouldn't completely go
away.  Sometimes he'd close his eyes and his imagination would take
off running, providing him with unwelcome footage of Matty, in
various stages of unspeakable violence:  lying in a bloody little
heap on the snow while that bastard carted Dana away... Matty
screaming in pain as he was poked and prodded in ways that Bill could
barely fathom, by an unfeeling and hostile alien task force... Matty,
dead.  Always, dead.  His sister, dead - her body torn open and her
child wrenched from her, to provide the alien colonizers with viable
testing fodder.  Tara, dead - her body left behind with a gun still
gripped in her cold hands, dead because she aimed a weapon at the
enemy and missed...  

Bill couldn't stop it - and it was slowly driving him mad.  

Outwardly anyone would have been hard-pressed to find anything wrong
with him.  Maybe he was a little quiet, even for Bill - but so they
all were, these days.  The vaccine was still eluding Dana and Mary;
everyone was sick of the darkness and suffering from some form of
cabin fever.  Spring was here but the bulk of the day was still dark,
although they were slowly gaining minutes and it was warmer.  The
snow still lay thick and heavy on the ground and would not melt off
completely in the more shaded areas, even come summer.  

It had just been a long winter for everyone - and worrying about the
next danger to their existence wasn't helping to make the wait for
summer any easier.  Summer brought lots of daylight and hopefully,
sunlight - eighty-seven days of it.  Bill yearned for it, as much as
he dreaded it - because summer would be warm and when it was warm the
insects came out - and where there were insects there might be
honeybees.  Though he knew they were reasonably safe living above the
Range... it was hard not to worry.

He couldn't talk to Tara about his worries; she was trying to hold
it together same as the rest of them.  Besides, Bill had a feeling
she knew.  Tara was intuitive where her family was concerned and she
understood the way his mind functioned, God help her.  She would also
leave him alone until he was ready to come to her about it.  Tara
always knew when to back off.

Besides, Bill's worries had gone beyond the bees and had morphed
into flat-out depression.  More and more he found himself thinking
about his mother, and Charlie.  He awoke in the morning with just a
moment of imbalance, thinking he was back in his comfortable bed in
his comfortable quarters in Norfolk - then that small lump in the
middle of the mattress would dig into his back and the dim room would
be chilly and the air would smell of firesmoke and creosote... And
the thick flannel sheets underneath him brought it home better than
anything else that he was not in Norfolk and would never see Norfolk
again... never see his mother and his brother, again.

Bill Scully needed closure in a big way - and in all the months
since his family's death he'd been unable to get what he needed.  

**********************

"OWWW, shit!"  Mulder shoved his wounded thumb into his mouth and
glared at the offensive hammer that had just injured him.  It had
slipped out of his gloved hand and had landed with stunning force on
his poor thumb, bypassing the carpenter nail and making jarring
contact with his thumbnail.  Mulder threw down the hammer and
regarded Bill with impatient eyes, envious of the way his brother-in-
law was not only twice as graceful with a hammer but also more adept
at holding steady to a slippery roof.  His patch of shingles were
more evenly laid, as well... and Mulder perched precariously on the
sloped roof of the clinic with a flattened thumb and uneven, sloppy
shingles.  

Shit... Well, at least he hadn't fallen off the roof - yet - he
supposed that would come next, when he'd try to climb down.  He
peered at Bill's downcast face and waggled his wet thumb at him. 
Bill didn't even look up, so focused on the nails he hammered with
precise aim on the neatly laid shingles that he seemed oblivious to
anything else.  Mulder shrugged and wiped his sore thumb on his snow
pants, ready to call it quits for the day.  He straightened himself
carefully and took a deep breath of the cold, crisp air, absently
noticing that it was mid-afternoon and the sun was holding steady. 
They were gaining seven minutes a day; spring was definitely in the
air.  April 6... God, hard to believe. Just about a year ago, this
whole mess had begun, for them... Mulder spoke his thoughts aloud.

"Doesn't seem possible, Bro - a year since we first started figuring
it out.  Where has the time flown?   Almost a year ago today, we were
admitting to ourselves the need to get the hell out of Dodge.  April
6..."  At the mention of the date, Bill's head jerked up and his eyes
narrowed as he stared at Mulder, digesting the only piece of the
monologue he'd actually heard.  He mumbled.

"Did you say today's April 6, Mulder?"  There was a raw edge to
Bill's tone that Mulder couldn't help but notice.  He nodded at the
other man and re-adjusted his ass on the cold shingles.

"Yeah.  April 6, today.  All day.  So what?"

Bill shuddered.  So what, indeed?  Nothing much... only his mother's
birthday, that was all.  His mother, Maggie.  His wonderful,
beautiful young mother who adored sterling roses in a silver vase
that she'd always fill with the gorgeous lavender blooms that their
dad always brought home to her every April 6 - or sent to her from
wherever his travels had flung him.  Maggie Scully's birthday...
Mother.  She would be fifty-nine years young today... Bill shook
harder, feeling himself begin to break off into little pieces, there 
on the roof of the Mt. Vu'luk clinic... and from a distance he heard
Mulder's concerned, "Bill?  Bro, you okay?"  

No... Bill was definitely NOT okay.  Nothing that happened today,
nothing he could dwell upon would make today okay for him.  Because a
year ago today the Scully family was happy, and whole - as whole as
it had been in the years since his dad's and his sister's deaths. 
Twelve months ago today Charlie was preparing himself to become the
father of a son.  Fifty-two weeks ago today his mother was putting
the finishing touches on the embroidery of the Scully christening
gown, originally made for Rachel and re-decorated with each new
grandchild's birth.   From Rachel to Matty and then to Katie... then
sent back for Meggie who got pink ribbons... and Joshua would wear
bright yellow chicks when it was his turn - Bill remembered how cute
those little chicks looked on the gown when it was finished.  He
remembered...

Because three hundred and sixty-five days ago today his darling
nieces each grabbed a phone extension and yelled into the receiver,
"Happy Birthday, Grandma!"  So loudly their little voices could be
heard above the din of Matty pounding on a Tupperware bowl in his
grandmother's kitchen.  And Bill was sitting at his mother's kitchen
table eating delicious birthday cake that Tara had baked, while his
mother giggled over the phone with her granddaughters and Meggie
dozed in Tara's arms.  He remembered the sweet pleading in Jeannie's
voice when she finally got a turn speaking to all of them, and begged
him, "Bill, promise you'll all make it out for the christening!" 
He'd promised... Yeah, he hadn't broken it either, had he?  No Siree.
He'd come to see them... Jesus Lord, he'd kept his word.

Except he came without Tara, and without the kids... he'd come with
Dana, and Mulder and Skinner in a mad dash from Norfolk to Myrtle
Beach with the threat of bees on their tail.  A month before the
scheduled christening, he'd come.

And had found the end of his world, as he'd known it...  

From a far distance he heard Mulder's shout of warning as the force
of his shaking caused him to slip sideways.  Too numb to know he was
falling off the roof, Bill's eyes had squeezed shut, keeping the
tears locked under his lids... and Mulder managed to grab his arm at
the very last second, and haul him over to safety.  At the touch of
his brother-in-law's hands Bill shattered; he broke.  He allowed
himself to be pulled into Mulder's strong arms and he buried his face
in Mulder's parka, and the sobs he choked out were so thick Mulder
could barely understand the words.

"Jesus, oh, God... he didn't make it, Mulder.  He didn't get... I
can't..."  A heaving shudder, and Bill scrubbed at his eyes hard,
fighting to get the words out.  "Joshua... no christening for him. 
It was supposed to be at two months... he'd had a cold and they'd
postponed it.  We were all gonna go down and be there.  That's why
Mom went early - to help Jeannie because they'd all come down with
this crappy cold.  Dana hadn't thought she'd be able to make it - now
I know why she sounded so distracted that day, when Mom called her. 
Fuck, it's not as if she had anything pressing on her mind, huh?" 
Bill clutched Mulder's arms as it all washed over him; the
significance of not only his mother's birthday but the sure knowledge
that Joshua Scully had died unbaptized.  

And he sobbed anew... in his brother-in-law's arms Bill sobbed like
a baby.  Mulder held his big, trembling frame and felt the tears
standing in his own eyes slip over the rims and roll down his chapped
face.  There wasn't a thing he could do for him, for this man he'd
learned to love like a brother - the brother he'd never been meant to
have.  The brother his warring parents had never been able to give
him, after Samantha's birth.  Everything Mulder had lost over the
years, his sister and his father, and mother too - it dwindled into
nothing compared to what this man had lost.  And Scully, as well. 
Mulder held fast to Bill and his low, broken words washed over them
both.

"Bill, shhh.  I know, Jesus I know.  I loved your mother too, Bill -
she was so kind to me after my own mother died.  And I would have
given anything to meet Charlie, and Jeannie and the kids.  Anything. 
I wanted them to be my family, too... all of you, Bro.  All of you,
my family.  I looked forward to it, I really did."  Mulder cradled
Bill's head against his parka and let the big guy purge it all out,
helpless to give him any sort of relief other than a shoulder to cry
on... knowing just how close to the edge he really was.  And it went
beyond perching on a slippery roof, about to fall off... because if
Bill fell he'd plummet far more than just a story and a half... 

He'd never come back.  Mulder knew - Mulder had almost gone there a
few times, himself.  Scully had saved him, had pulled him back.  So
many times, she'd pulled him back from the edge.  And there was no
way in Hell he was going to let her brother - HIS brother - fall.  

Not now - not after all they'd been through...  Mulder gripped Bill
tightly and tugged him closer, away from that slippery edge.  He
listened to the broken pain pouring out of the big, tough Navy man,
who had only recently learned to enjoy whatever life tossed out - the
way they'd all learned, since coming to the village.  And he wondered
bitterly which of them would be next, to lose it... for as busy as
they'd all been especially the last six months, there had been no
time for vital closure.  No time to grieve, likewise no way to
celebrate the wonderful traits of their lost loved ones.  Mulder
pressed a hand into Bill's shoulder and pushed him a little, until he
could see into his brother-in-law's ravaged face, speaking softly but
firmly to him.

"Bill, listen to me.  They're not gone, never completely gone, can
you see that?  A little bit of them lives on, in you and in Scully -
in your children.  You find a way to keep it alive and it'll go on
forever, each new generation of Scully children mirroring the very
best of Maggie and Charlie Scully.  You'll look into your
granddaughter's eyes someday and your mother's beautiful face and
strong spirit will shine out at you and give you cause to rejoice. 
And you'll tell your children about their grandma, and their Uncle
Charlie.  You'll show them pictures of their cousins - I'd bet you
have some in your wallet, like any proud uncle.  And they'll get to
know them, through you and the memories you keep alive."    He stared
into Bill's drenched eyes, seeing his wife's blue orbs as well as
Bill's gazing sadly back at him.  Mulder held Bill's shoulders and
repeated to him what he'd told Scully, all those months ago the night
he'd held her and comforted her when she'd felt lost and motherless.

"There is a time for everything, Bill - I said this to your sister,
not so long ago.  Today you may mourn... tomorrow you may laugh. 
Tomorrow, you'll think about your mother and you'll smile, and when
you look into Matty's face you'll see her there.  Please, hang onto
that, okay?  Please?"  He held Bill's eyes, his own earnest and
filled with caring and concern - and when Bill nodded slowly, and
wiped at his face with his gloved hand, Mulder released the sigh of
relief he'd not even known he'd been holding.  Bill managed a small
smile, and when he spoke his words were typical Bill Scully - and
Mulder was never more happy to be able to admit that for once,
'typical Bill Scully' sounded damn good...

"So Mulder... how often in the immediate future will you be using
this outburst of mine against me?  I'd like to know up front so I can
practice my ass-kicking techniques..."  Mulder chuckled and gripped 
Bill, hard - once... then let him go and picked up their hammers, 
pointing one toward the direction of the ladder propped against 
the side of the building.

"Well, let's get off this goddamned roof first, Scully - then you
can start giving me cause for blackmail."

They crawled over to the ladder and started down, Bill going first 
so he could hold the ladder for Mulder.  And his voice floated up to
his brother-in-law as he reached the ground and locked his hands
around the rungs.  "You're not gonna tell anyone I let you hug me, 
are you, Mulder?  I got a rep to protect..."  

Mulder snorted as he stepped carefully down the slippery rungs.
Casting a smirking look over his shoulder at the big man holding 
the ladder, he flapped his eyelashes at him and murmured sexily, 
"I won't tell if you won't, Big Boy."  Bill shook his head in 
disgust.

"You're a riot, Mulder..."

*********************

Scully rubbed her eyes and looked up at the clock on the wall.  Mary
had taken the day off to stay home with her father who had been
feeling a little under the weather that morning and Mulder would be
stopping by soon.  They had come to an agreement after their argument
- he would not badger her about her work and eating habits during the
day and she agreed to stop working at a decent hour to go home, eat
and rest.  At the end of each day, Mulder would show up to walk her
home from the clinic and as her pregnancy progressed and the baby
grew larger, throwing off her balance and causing her back to ache
terribly, she was grateful for his strong arm to lean on as she
tiredly made her way home each evening.

With the discovery of the vial of the original vaccine, Scully had
taken a small sample of the precious stock to study and break down
the chemical components of the vaccine.  Two months later she was
still trying to duplicate it.  She was so close but an exact match
continued to elude her.  Scully studied her latest effort under the
microscope, making careful notes on a scrap of paper.  Pushing her
chair away from the scope she walked to her computer and tiredly
entered the figures into a program that she and Mary had discovered
on the Internet.  Fearing that they would lose access to the Internet
at any time, they had downloaded the program and had modified it to
suit their own purposes.  Scully stood and rubbed a hand over her
back, digging her fists into the aching muscles just above her hips. 
At seven months, the baby was already so big.  Scully didn't even
want to consider how huge she would be by the time she was ready to
deliver.  Mulder had told her he'd been a big baby... it stood to
reason their boy would take after his daddy.  

Scully began listlessly stacking her notes and organizing her desk,
allowing the computer to finish running the comparison so that she
could cross this latest attempt off her list and try again from
another angle the next day.  

She was gaping at the monitor in shock when Mulder pushed open the
door to her office.

"Ready, Scully?" he asked as he poked his head through the doorway.
"Scully?"  He hurried across the room when he saw his wife clutch the
desk and carefully lower herself into a chair.

"What is it?" he asked as he squatted beside her chair.  Laying a
hand on her belly, he called to her again.  "Scully!" he cried. 
"What's wrong? Is it the baby?"  Scully shook her head dazedly and
looked down into his frightened face.

"It matches," she said in a tiny voice.  Mulder's forehead creased
in concerned confusion and his eyes followed her trembling finger as
it pointed toward the computer.  He squinted at the screen and leaned
closer to read the data.  Two sets of numbers ran in incomprehensible
columns down either side of the screen.  At the bottom of the screen,
however, he easily understood the information displayed above the
blinking cursor.

"99.9% match rate," he read aloud.  He turned his head slowly and
gaped into his wife's stunned eyes.  "Does this mean... have you..."
His voice trailed off as she nodded slowly and leaned forward to
press shaking fingers to the screen.  A single tear slid down her
cheek and she lifted her hands to her mouth in an attempt to still
the wobbling of her chin.  Her eyes remained locked on the monitor
for several long seconds and then suddenly she burst into motion,
quickly printing out the data and saving the file.  She stood as the
printer began grinding away, spitting out page after page of data and
she clutched the papers tightly, her eyes devouring the proof that
she held in her hands.

Mulder rose and stood before her, bending his knees to bring his
eyes level with hers.  Scully looked up from the printouts in her
hand, meeting his excited gaze with eyes dilated with disbelief. 
Mulder wrapped his arms around her hips and he lifted her from the
floor.  Startled, she threw her arms around his neck as he brought
her face up to his.

"You did it," he murmured.  He kissed her, tasting the salt of the
tears that streamed down her cheeks.  "I'm so proud of you," he
whispered against her damp lips.  Scully tightened her grip around
his neck and returned his kiss.  She shrieked as he spun her in an
impromptu and excited dance.

"Oh God, oh God," she whispered against his shirt as he set her back
on her feet and drew her close to his chest.  Her legs began shaking
as reaction set in and Mulder eased her back into her chair.  He
knelt on the floor in front of her and stroked his hands down her
arms and traced gentle, calming patterns over her knees with the tips
of his fingers until she settled down and caught her breath.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he cupped her cheek in his
hand.  "Let's make sure that everything is saved before we shut the
computer down for the night," he suggested softly.  Scully looked
from him to the computer and her mouth opened and closed several
times without issuing a sound.   She scrubbed her hands over her face
and looked longingly down into the papers still clutched in her hands.

"But..." she began only to fall silent when her husband laid gentle
fingers over her lips.

"Let it go for the rest of the night, Scully," he suggested.  "I
know that you'll be back here bright and early tomorrow morning. 
It's waited this long, you can start in earnest tomorrow," he
promised.  "Right now," he said with the beginnings of a grin on his
face, "we've got to get everyone together so that we can share the
good news!"  

A wide smile burst over Scully's face and she leaned forward,
throwing her arms around him again, hugging him tightly.  'Almost
there,' she chanted in her head.  'I'm almost there.'  She nodded and
placed the printouts carefully into a folder and stood, reaching for
her parka.

"Let's go home," she said, holding out her hand.

********

Days passed in a blur of activity as Scully refined, analyzed and
ran every test she could think of on the vaccine, each time yielding
the same result - a near perfect match to the sample left in the vial
found in Mulder's parka.  Mary assisted her in running the various
tests and cross-referencing the calculations against the information
already stored in the computer and Mulder contributed by making sure
she ate and by forcing her to curl up on the small sofa in the office
each afternoon to rest.  He would slide her shoes from her aching
feet and rub them until her eyes would flutter shut.  He guarded her
sleep and woke her each day after one hour - as promised.  She would
rise from her nap refreshed and ready to begin again.

Finally there was only one test left to run.  As Elder Honea blessed
the food at the Sunday gathering, Scully stood up to address the
villagers.

"Mary and I have finished our work in the clinic on the vaccine,"
she began, smiling gratefully at Mary.  "We are as sure as we can
possibly be that this vaccine is a match to the one that saved my
life three years ago."  She licked her lips and looked around the
table at the faces of family and friends who were watching and
listening with great interest.

"There's only one way to be sure that the vaccine works," she said. 
"And that is to test it on a someone who has not been exposed to the
virus before."  She drew in a deep breath and blew it back out.  "I
would test it on one of the animals first, but the virus does not
seem to affect animal life in the same way that it does human life." 
Scully looked down and studied the rough wood of the table, tracing
the whorls in the grain of the wood as she spoke.  Swallowing hard,
she looked up again.

"I need a volunteer."

Skinner leaned forward immediately. "I'll do it," he offered. 
Mary's hand tightened around his.  She had instinctively known that
he would be the first to volunteer and she was fighting back
frightened tears when Sophie pushed away from the table and stood.

"You will do no such thing, young man," she stated regally. 
Everyone turned to look at the village matriarch as she spoke.  "You
have a family to take care of," she said.  Directing her attention to
Scully, she spoke quietly but commandingly.  

"I do not have a death wish, but I am an old woman," she said.  "You
have toiled over your work for many months now and I trust you when
you say that you believe that the vaccine is safe."  She looked down
at her gnarled hands.  "Still, this is an alien life form that we are
speaking of and as you say, we will not know for sure until it is
tested on someone."  She looked at each of the dear faces gathered
around the table and smiled.  "I have led a good life.  A long life."
Drawing in a deep breath, she nodded decisively.  "You will test your
work on me."  Her voice was firm and tolerated no argument, forcing
slow nods of assent from everyone around the table.

******** 

The next morning Scully arrived at Sophie's cabin. The old woman met
her at the door with a smile and a cup of sweet tea.  

"I know that Sarah has been brewing her special tea for you every
morning," she said with a knowing grin at Scully's poorly hidden
grimace.  "The tea is good for you and the baby," she chided and
Scully nodded.

"I know," she sighed.  "But the taste..." She shuddered, happy to
have slipped past Sarah's door without having to suffer through her
daily dose.  Sophie laughed.

"Sit down, child," she said.  "We'll drink our tea and you'll
explain to me what you are going to do."  She sank down into a wooden
rocker near the fireplace and motioned for Scully to sit in the
matching chair on the other side of the hearth.  Scully gratefully
sat down and cradled the warm cup of tea between her hands.

"It works like any inoculation you've ever received," she said. "The
vaccine is made from weakened or dead cells from the actual virus,
but should not be strong enough to cause a severe infection," she
explained. "Your immune system will recognize the weakened form of
the virus as an invader and will trigger the production of antibodies
in your blood.  The antibodies will fight against the invading virus
and build up an immunity against it to protect you in the event you
should be exposed to the real virus later on."  Scully looked at the
old woman to make sure that she understood.  Sophie nodded
thoughtfully.

"How will you know if the vaccine is successful?" she wondered
aloud.  "Do you simply assume that the vaccine works if I don't keel
over?" she asked with an impudent grin.  Scully's hand tightened
convulsively around the arm of the rocker and she choked on the
mouthful of tea that she had just swallowed.  Sophie laughed and
leaned forward, placing one wrinkled hand on the younger woman's leg.

"I'm sorry, my dear," she apologized.  "I know that you take this
very seriously and that you are afraid," she said.  "But you should
not worry so," she told her.  "God has brought you to this place and
He has delivered you from evil time and again," she said.  "He
intends for you to do wonderful things, Dana," she murmured wisely. 
"You were meant, I think, to save the world."  Sophie tapped a gentle
finger against Scully's temple.  "First, by using this," she said
softly.  Then Sophie curved her hand around the swollen mound that
protected the baby.  "And through this," she intoned quietly.  "He
has blessed you with many gifts, Dana."  Scully blinked back tears
and she lifted Sophie's hand into her own.  She studied the papery
skin covering the still strong hand and brought it to her lips,
pressing a kiss onto the aged knuckles.  One fat tear brimmed and
splashed over her lashes as she whispered her thanks.

Sophie stood and drew Scully to her feet.  "Let's get this show on
the road," she said. 

*************** 




~ Chapter Thirty Five ~


Scully had cautioned the rest of the villagers that she would be
placing Sophie under a strict quarantine until she was sure that the
vaccine had not caused any lasting ill effects on her patient.  After
the vaccine was administered, she kept careful watch over the old
woman, alert for any signs that she had infected her with, rather
than protected her from the virus.  By mid-afternoon Sophie was
running a low fever and she told Scully that she felt mildly achy. 
Scully helped her into bed and kept a close eye on her vital signs. 
Her blood pressure was slightly elevated but her temperature did not
rise past one hundred degrees and she did not complain of dizziness
or nausea.  

The two women passed the day by talking of friends andfamily and 
Scully entertained her with some of the most colorful cases that 
she and Mulder had investigated during their careers with the FBI.  
She steered clear of talk of consortiums and alien invasions, 
choosing instead to regale the old woman with stories of
flukemen and vampires.  When Mulder - the only other person permitted
inside the quarantined cabin - arrived late in the afternoon, he
found both women dissolved in tears of laughter as Scully recounted
the look of studied casualness and barely repressed panic on Mulder's
face as he tried to shake a yellow bilious substance from his fingers.

Scully was heartened as Sophie's temperature continued to hold
steady, never climbing above the hundred degree mark. The old woman's
eyes sparkled as Mulder brought their dinner into the bedroom.  She
sat, comfortably propped up against a mound of pillows and ate the
soup and sandwiches he had prepared with gusto and watched with a
glad heart as he tended to his pregnant wife with gentle hands and
loving eyes.  He offered to keep watch over Sophie through the night
as he guided Scully into the small second bedroom and helped her
settle onto the bed for a much-needed rest.

And when morning arrived, Scully's heart beat furiously in her
breast as she read the thermometer, which told her that Sophie's
fever was gone.  The older woman was spry and was moving quickly
about her home, declaring one day spent in bed 'quite enough, thank
you.'

Scully drew a vial of blood from her patient and kissed her papery
cheek, promising to let her know the results of the blood test as
soon as possible.  An hour later, Scully lifted shining eyes from the
microscope to meet the concerned gaze of her husband.  She nodded
slowly and stepped forward to wrap her arms around his waist,
whispering softly into his flannel covered chest.

"It worked."

********

Scully quietly allowed Mulder to fuss over her as he buckled her
seatbelt low across her belly.  She knew that he would have preferred
that she stay in Mt. Vu'luk and let Mary oversee the inoculations of
the survivors living in Barrow and the surrounding villages, but when
she had stated that she would be going along to supervise the
distribution of the vaccine, he had only asked if she was sure that
she was up to the trip.  When she assured him that she was, he had
yielded to her decision.  The flight to Barrow was a short one and
although she was almost always tired now, the nausea was thankfully a
thing of the past.  She smiled and patted his hand reassuringly as he
dropped into the seat next to hers and buckled himself in.  

Skinner twisted in his seat to look over his shoulder at them.
"Ready?" he asked.  Mulder nodded and gave him a thumbs-up signal. 
Skinner glanced toward Mary in the co-pilot seat and at her nod, he
flipped a number of switches, powering up the helicopter and sending
the powerful blades overhead into motion.  

Scully had tested the vaccine on two more volunteers after it had
produced the necessary antibodies in Sophie's blood.  When the
vaccine had yielded similar results in all three cases, Scully felt
confident enough to vaccinate the entire population of Mt. Vu'luk. 
She wouldn't know for certain that the vaccine was completely
effective against the virus unless and until an inoculated person
became infected with the virus and successfully managed to fight it
off.  Scully knew that she would be content never to put the vaccine
to that test.

Sophie and Scully had contacted the survivors in Barrow over the ham
radio and Scully had explained to them that a vaccine against the
virus would be available when she and Mary were able to produce a
large enough quantity.  And as soon as the necessary quantity of the
vaccine was prepared, plans were set into motion for the four of them
to make the trip to Barrow.

The survivors were waiting for them when they arrived at the
community center.  Mulder noted that there seemed to be a number of
faces that he didn't recognize from his previous trip to Barrow.  Joe
Manno explained that survivors from some of the more remote, outlying
areas and smaller villages had fled to Barrow over the long, winter
months seeking refuge and security in a larger community.

Scully and Mary set their equipment out on a table and Mulder smiled
gratefully when one of the men dragged a high-backed stool across the
hall for Scully to sit on.  He and Skinner collected the used needles
and bagged them for disposal as Mary and Scully inoculated every
resident of Barrow against the virus.  Although the process should
not have taken longer than a couple of hours, the pace was slowed as
the people of Barrow stopped to thank Scully or lay a hand on her
burgeoning stomach, offering prayers and blessings for the baby's
health and long life.  Scully blushed and stammered as she tried to
deflect the praise away from her, explaining that she could never
have done it without Mary and the help of all of her friends and
family in Mt. Vu'luk.  

Mulder's heart was bursting with love and pride as he watched his
wife efficiently administer the vaccine to each person patiently
waiting in line.  Her hands were gentle and her smile was quick and
genuine as she put each of her new patients at ease, quietly
explaining the vaccine and how it would work to those who inquired.  

When they were finished and Scully and Mary were packing up the
remaining vaccine and unused needles and discussing babies with some
of the women, Mulder and Skinner spent a few minutes talking to a
small group of men.

"We're running low on basic supplies," Mulder said.  The men nodded
and Joe offered a solution.

"There is a supermarket/general store about four blocks from here,"
he said.  "It was well-stocked before the invasion began last August.
You should be able to find what you need there."  Mulder thought it
over quickly.  

"We have money, but I don't know that it's worth anything any more,"
he said honestly.  Joe glanced over his shoulder.  Scully's bright
hair stood out as she was surrounded by a small group of Inupiaq
women.  The petite white woman was one of them now, Inupiaq by choice
and by heart.  Joe smiled as he turned back to Mulder.

"We can never pay you enough for what you have given to us today,"
he said slowly.  "You will take what you need.  Nobody here has
needed to use money for months and I don't see where that will change
for us in the future.  Please, help yourself to whatever you want." 
Mulder smiled gratefully and the two men shook hands.

Thirty minutes later the foursome made their way to the North Slope
General Store and Marketplace.  Skinner twisted the doorknob and
found it unlocked.  Bells tinkled overhead as they pushed the door
open and stepped into the darkened store; Mary located a switch on
the wall.  Light flooded the store to reveal well-stocked shelves of
dry goods, clothing, shoes and other basic supplies.  Skinner and
Mulder found several empty boxes under the counter and they carefully
began to make their selections, taking only what they absolutely
needed.  Toothpaste, deodorant, soap and other basic necessities were
placed in the boxes along with flour, sugar, salt and other staples
that they felt they would need.  

Mary and Scully moved to the clothing department and selected
several outfits for Michael, Matthew and Meggie who were rapidly
outgrowing their clothes.  They chose several toys as well.  Balls
and bats, board games and a baby doll were packed into the box.  Mary
was browsing through a rack of shoes, looking for a pair of sneakers
for Michael to wear during the approaching summer months, when she
saw Scully stop before a display of baby goods.  She watched her
friend's hands drift over the tiny clothes and she glanced across the
room to see Mulder watching his wife.

"Go ahead and take what you need," Mary encouraged.  Scully
wistfully fingered a beautifully stitched blanket and patted a pile
of adorable little outfits in pretty pastel blues and greens and
yellows, cheerfully decorated with smiling animals.  Instead she
settled on several one-piece rompers and a large stack of cloth
diapers, putting them into the box before resolutely moving away from
the display.  Mary's eyes met Mulder's... he nodded and winked at her
and she quickly snatched up the blanket and grabbed a number of the
gaily-adorned outfits and several plush, stuffed animals, pushing
them into the box and covering them up with their other selections. 
Her broad grin was echoed in the one her best friend's husband
flashed at her.

Seven hours after they had arrived, they exchanged farewells with a
small group of people who had come to see them off.  Scully promised
to come to Barrow on a more regular basis after the baby was born to
see to its residents' medical needs.  After a round of hugs and
profuse thanks, they climbed into the helicopter and buckled
themselves into their seats for the short trip back to Mt. Vu'luk.

********** 

Mary awoke later that night to a terrible pounding on the door to
her cabin.  Throwing off the blankets, she ran to the door and yanked
it open to find a wild-eyed Mulder waiting.  He was shivering in the
cold, night air and she grabbed him with both hands and pulled him
into the cabin.

"What is it?" she demanded, glancing over her shoulder as her father
and Michael poked their heads out of the bedroom they shared.  Mulder
clutched her hands in both of his.

"It's Scully," he said in a desperate voice.  "Something's wrong
with the baby!"  His eyes pleaded with her to hurry.  Mary yanked her
hands from his and ran toward her room to get changed.  

"Mulder, go back and wait with Dana," she said.  "I'll be there in a
minute."  He nodded and fled back toward his cabin.  "Michael," she
called and her nephew looked up in surprise.  "Go get Sarah," she
ordered.  "Tell her that something is wrong with Dana and the baby." 
Michael jammed his feet into his boots and yanked his parka from a
peg on the wall, racing to do as he was told.  Mary ripped her
nightgown over her head and dragged on a pair of jeans and a sweater.
Stuffing her feet into her boots, she hurried back into the living
room to grab her own parka.  She spared a helpless glance toward her
father.

"I don't know how long I'll be," she told him.  Her father nodded
knowingly.

"I'll pray," he said quietly and pressed his lips to her forehead. 
"Now hurry," he told her.  She could see the light come on in Sarah's
cabin and she heard Michael's urgent voice carry across the silent
village as he explained the situation to Sarah.

She burst into Mulder's cabin and found Scully curled up in the
center of the bed.  Mulder was wrapped around his wife's body and he
was whispering to her soothingly.  Scully looked up when she heard
Mary enter the room and she held out her hand, her voice breaking on
a sob at the sight of her friend.

"Mary... oh God.  The baby!"  Mary hurried across the room and
clutched Scully's hand in her own.

"Are you in labor, Dana?" she asked as her fingers settled over the
inside of Scully's wrist, checking her pulse.  Her eyes widened as
she felt the frantic throbbing beneath her fingers.  Scully shook her
head and watched her with wide, frightened eyes.

"No," she gasped tearfully.  "But I have some cramps.  And I'm
bleeding."  Everyone looked up as Sarah rushed into the bedroom.  She
sized up the situation quickly and firmly pulled Mulder away from
Scully's side.  He backed up against the wall, his worried eyes never
leaving his wife.  Sarah laid a soothing hand on Scully's shoulder.

"I need you to lay down on your back, Dana," she said softly.  "I
need to examine you."  Scully nodded and her eyes were dark with fear
but she made no attempt to move.

"Come on, sweetheart," Sarah encouraged.  She looked across the bed
at Mulder and he leaned over his wife, crooning to her softly to
stretch out on the mattress and allow Mary and Sarah to examine her. 
She tugged him down onto the bed beside her and buried her face
against his thigh as the two women gently pushed her nightgown up
around her hips and pulled her underwear down her legs.  Their eyes
were grim as they studied the spots of blood staining the cotton
panties.

Sarah hurried into the bathroom and quickly scrubbed her hands under
near-scalding water.  She knelt between Scully's legs and called
softly to the frightened woman, demanding her attention.

"I'm going to examine you," she said gently but firmly.  Scully
nodded and turned her face away again, pressing into her husband,
whose hand stroked her head soothingly.  Mulder's eyes begged the two
women for help.  After everything they'd been through and triumphed
over this past year, he couldn't lose Scully and the baby.  Not now. 
It would surely kill him... 

Mary watched, feeling helpless, as the midwife slid gentle fingers
inside of Scully, probing carefully.  She watched the older woman's
eyes shut as she called on years of experience and skilled hands to
make a diagnosis.  After what seemed an eternity, Sarah withdrew her
fingers and wiped her hands on a towel.  

"The sac has not been ruptured," she announced.  "When was the last
time you felt the baby move?"   

Scully tried to clear her jumbled thoughts.  "About two hours ago,"
she said.  Mary grabbed a stethoscope out of Scully's medical bag and
everyone held their breath as she listened for the baby's heartbeat. 
She closed her eyes in concentration as she counted the rapid beats
of the baby's heart.  

"Sounds good," she declared as she straightened up.  "Do you want to
hear?" she asked.  Scully nodded tearfully and Mulder helped her to
carefully sit up as Mary fit the rubber tips of the stethoscope into
her ears.  A tiny smile trembled on Scully's lips as she heard the
baby's heartbeat.  Mulder looked up at Sarah with concerned eyes,
feeling some relief at the apparent health of their child but still
scared as hell about Scully.

"What is it?"  he asked.  "Why is she bleeding?"  Sarah shrugged,
not unkindly, and put away the stethoscope.

"Tension... stress, change of diet... take your pick."  She affixed
stern eyes on Scully's frightened face.  "You've been overdoing it
for months now," she said.  "And your body is rebelling."  Scully
hung her head and nodded, tears sliding down her cheeks.  Sarah's
face softened and she slid closer, gathering the younger woman's
hands into her own.

"You've taken care of everyone else.  Now you need to take care of
yourself and your baby," she lectured gently.  "Bed rest," she
pronounced.  "Until the baby is born, you are not to go near the
clinic.  Stay off your feet as much as possible."  Sarah smoothed a
tender hand over Scully's bright hair, waiting for her reply.

Scully's mind rebelled at the thought of spending the next month
lying in bed, but she knew she would do whatever was necessary to
ensure the safe delivery of her child.  She nodded dejectedly.

"I know... I will," she said softly.  Glancing up at Mulder, her
eyes filled with tears again.

"I'm so sorry, Mulder," she whispered.  He shook his head and
gathered her into his arms, holding her as if she would shatter into
a million pieces.  He whispered lovingly to her.

"Shh," he murmured into her hair.  "It doesn't matter.  We'll just
do whatever we need to do."  Mary cleared her throat, shaky with
relief herself.

"Let's get you into some clean clothes and change these sheets," she
suggested. Mulder nodded, lifting Scully into his arms and setting
her down on the chair in the corner of the room.  While the two women
put fresh sheets on the bed, he pulled clean underwear and fresh
pajamas from the bureau and helped Scully into the clean nightwear.

When she was settled back in bed, Mary sat down next to her and
placed a warm hand over her stomach.

"I know you're going to go crazy lying here in bed for the next
several weeks," she said knowingly.  "I promise I'll come by every
day." She pressed a kiss to her friend's forehead.  Scully nodded
tearfully and whispered her thanks to both women as they prepared to
take their leave.

"I'll see you out," Mulder said.  He walked them both to the door
with his arms over their shoulders, then took turns hugging each of
them with grateful affection.

"Thank you," he whispered fervently.  "Thank you so much!"  He
kissed them both on their cheeks and watched from his door until they
were safely in their cabins before turning off the lights and
climbing back into bed, curling his body protectively around his wife
and child.   Scully sighed, already in a light doze, exhausted from
the draining anxiety of the day and the panic of the evening.  Mulder
rested his hand underneath the swell of her stomach and smiled into
her hair when the warmth of his palm permeated her skin and within
the comfort of her womb, their child kicked.  Nose buried against
Scully's soft hair, Mulder whispered to their child, "Daddy loves
you, Little One... I'm counting on you to take good care of Mommy..." 

He fell asleep with his wife warming his body and the reassuring
movements of their son calming his soul.

*****************



~ Chapter Thirty Six ~

Scully was bored.  Only midway through the second week of enforced
bed rest, she was ready to tear out her hair.  Mulder would rise up
from their bed every morning and get dressed for the day before
bringing breakfast to her.  After breakfast, he would quickly clean
up, gently remind her that she was to rest and then sweetly kiss her
goodbye before leaving the cabin to go about his daily chores. 
Spring was upon them and the residents of Mt. Vu'luk were taking
advantage of the lengthening days by making repairs to the buildings
before the heavy spring breakup began.  Busy hands were at work in
the greenhouse, sowing the crop that would be harvested in early
summer.  Although Scully did not claim to have a green thumb, she
itched to bury her hands in the loamy soil of the greenhouse;
desperate to breathe in the pungent fragrance of the fertile dirt and
feel the heat of the sun intensified through the glass panels of the
greenhouse roof.  Beverly had explained that there would be a second
planting in about two months' time in which Scully's assistance would
be more than welcome, but that was of little comfort to her at the
moment.

To everyone's delight and no one's surprise Skinner had proposed to
Mary, right in the middle of a Sunday Gathering lunch.  He had jumped
to his feet during dessert, staring down at Mary as she laughed with
Patrick and Beverly seated across from them... and with high color in
his cheeks and no advance warning had grasped her wrist, pulled her
to her feet and dragged her off to the empty schoolroom two doors
down.  Tara, reporting back later that day to Mulder and Scully, had
recalled the shocked Mary with glee, hooting, "They were gone a full
twenty minutes before Walter finally brought her back in, both of
them beet-red."  Mary's eyes had been wide with wonder; she'd opened
her mouth twice to speak but nothing had come out.  Skinner had
finally taken pity on her and had blurted out in a gruff voice.

"We're getting married!"  The room had exploded with excitement,
Skinner caught right in the center of it and turning redder by the
minute... Scully would have given anything to see it.  But she was
missing out on the Sunday Gatherings, as was Mulder who refused to
leave her alone and spent the entire day with her.  

Now a wedding was in the works and the women of the village were
busy with the details as the menu for the reception was discussed and
refined and plans were made to decorate the chapel for the big event,
while Mary patiently stood still and allowed Tara to fuss over the
alterations being made to her dress.  She faithfully stopped in to
visit Scully every day, reporting to her the smallest details of the
wedding planning and while Scully rejoiced in her friend's happiness,
she couldn't help but feel a little left out.  Her own wedding had
been such a rushed and frantic affair... now she worried that her
well-meaning friends and overly-protective husband would not even
allow her out of bed long enough to attend the festivities.

Scully was determined to attend that wedding at any cost.

Winter was over and the village was rousing, bursting to life, while
Scully lay still and the world passed by without her.  The days were
long, with only Nanook for company, and there was little in the form
of entertainment.  She would place a stack of records onto the record
player and the sad, sweet strains of the oldies would whisper through
the room.  Her eyesight had been badly strained over the last several
months as she had spent hours squinting at the computer, pouring over
research manuals and studying her notes without the benefit of her
glasses.  A forgotten novel lying open at the second chapter bore
testament to the fact that reading only produced a headache now.  

Scully sighed and shifted in the bed, drawing a pillow close and
resting the burden of her belly against its soft weight.  The four
walls of the bedroom were closing in on her as she calculated the
time left until her due date.  Scully had too many hours each day on
her hands to think.

And worry.

The day after she had awakened terrified by the sight of the blood
spotting her underwear, Mulder had taken her to the clinic for an
ultrasound.  Mary was waiting for them and with Mulder, helped Scully
to climb onto the bed in the examination room.  Her clothes had been
pushed aside and rearranged and Mary had slathered the gel over her
seemingly enormous belly.  The wand floated over her gel-coated skin
and the baby's heartbeat filled the room.  There was something odd
about the heartbeat, Scully had thought - but then she was
distracted, her attention riveted to the grainy black and white image
displayed on the monitor to her left.

Mary moved the wand slowly over her stomach and pointed to the
screen with her other hand.

"There," she said with a note of relief in her voice.  "You can see
for yourself that everything is fine.  You have a very active baby,"
she smiled, watching the baby's limbs lazily push and twist in
Scully's womb.  Mary glanced over at Mulder's enraptured, but
confused face and she grinned again and began to trace her fingers
over the image on the screen.

"Here you go, Mulder," she said softly.  "Can you see the baby's
feet?" she asked.  He nodded and leaned closer to the screen, his
hand clenched tight around Scully's while Mary continued to point out
his child's features.

"That's the cord," she said, pointing.  "And there," she exclaimed. 
"The baby is sucking his thumb."  A wide smile broke over her face. 
"There's the other arm," she continued.  "And that's..." A puzzled
frown crossed her face and she leaned closer to the screen, mov