Howdy. Well, for a while I've been warning you that hormones
during the final stages of pregnancy can lead to lunacy. Now I have
proof. This started one night when I was actually sleeping pretty
soundly (for once) and was rudely interrupted by my four year old
son who seems to think he can't sleep alone. What progressed is a
nice LONG relationship story which did many things and has
several 'parts'. It's got mothers, fathers, fathers to be, mothers to
be, ghostly aunts (yes, Melissakeeters, she's back), government
conspiracies, those guys in that fancy gentleman's club in New York
and a couple of spoilers for the third season. But, hey, it was fun to
write. What can I say?

MAJOR WARNINGS: (If you read nothing else, read this)
RELATIONSHIP AHEAD. No sex described but suffice it to say
that it is definitely hinted at. Non relationshippers, I have a nice
long one in the works for you which will be out sometime after
Stevie. :)
THIRD SEASON SPOILER. A lot of third season spoilers, but
not much beyond 'Paperclip'.
ADULT THEMES AND DISCUSSIONS (premarital sex) merit
this at least a PG 15 in my opinion, maybe a mild R

REAL DISCLAIMER: Since I've already taken too much of your
time, no copyright infringement intended. And I love youse stuff,
Chris. XA disclaimer also applies.

THANKS FOR THE INSPIRATIONS: To everyone who has
gone before (I would mention you all, but I would leave someone
out and be horrified for weeks) and done excellent stories of 'the
first time they got together'--thank you. You saved me from doing
that part myself. This is dedicated to all of you.

Comments, baby food recipes, diaper wipe coupons, send to me at
vmoseley@fgi.net.

EVERY MOTHER DREAMS
by Vickie Moseley
vmoseley@fgi.net

Greenwich Conn.
March 20, 1996
2:00 am

Moonlight reflecting off the 3 or 4 inches of new fallen snow
gave the room a light, almost eerie quality as she started awake.
She had heard the noise before she felt the presence. Rolling over
(no easy task, these days) she looked into the eyes of the three foot
tall munchkin standing next to the bed. His brown hair was messed
from sleep, his hazel eyes only half open, worn out blanket and a
stuffed bear in full rain apparel with 'Niagara Falls' emblazoned on
its chest were clutched possessively in the munchkin's arms.
"Momma, come lay down with me. I'm all alone," the tiny voice
whined.
"Did you go to the bathroom," she asked. Standard question of
anyone under the age of 5 in the middle of the night.
"Yep," came the bright reply. He had been potty trained before
the age of two, he was an expert at this.
"OK, I'll come lie down with you. But just till you go back to
sleep," she sighed and extracted herself from the thick comforters
and into the night chill. She stretched awkwardly. The baby
growing within her was getting larger and taking up more room.
Her back and her ribs felt it most. At least at the moment, _that_
offspring seemed to be sleeping, so maybe she could eventually get
back to sleep, as well.
She watched the little munchkin trot off toward his bedroom and
followed. This was standard procedure, it seemed. She did this
every night. She only hoped that with the arrival of the new baby,
he might feel that he wasn't so alone in the world, and she might
actually get some sleep in her own bed. She snorted to herself at
that thought. Definitely a 2 am kind of thought--no basis in reality
whatsoever.
As she turned the corner to enter his room, she froze. This was
a hospital room. She looked at the small child's hospital bed, the
tiny figure lying there was connected to assorted machines, all
hissing and chugging and making strange noises. The doctors, two
of them, were conferring with her husband <How did Bill get
here? she thought. Her husband was holding back emotion, she
could tell that. At first, she assumed it was anger, that was
common enough. Then, she realized with a rising terror that he
was really holding back tears--he was afraid, but she couldn't
determine why. He finally noticed her presence in the room and
came over to her.
"I thought the nurses had you lying down," he said gruffly.
"What's going on, Bill? What's the matter?" she asked,
confused, like she had just walked in on this scene and she didn't
know the plot.
"The doctors feel he isn't getting any better. They think it might
be for the best to take him off the machines and let. . ." he stopped
and the words caught in his throat. ". . .let God handle this." For
the first time, a single tear rolled down his cheek and he angrily
rubbed it away. "Don't worry." He was forceful now, in control.
"I told them that if anyone touches those machines, I'll sue this
place so fast they won't have time to call their lawyers! No one is
going to kill our little boy!"
She looked over at the little bed and the tiny body lying so still
and remembered it all. And started to scream.

Boston General Hospital
March 20, 1996
9:15 am

Dana Scully paced back and forth in the hallway. She was
angry, frustrated and just plain tired. The doctors here, 'in this big
city hospital' as they kept pointing out to her, felt that her medical
license was a nice addition for an FBI agent to have, but did not
qualify her to be an active participant in Fox Mulder's care. The
fact that she had done more to care for her partner's medical needs
in the past 3 years than all the doctors in all the hospitals he had
been in so far made no impression on them whatsoever. She
wanted to walk over to the closed wooden door and punch through
it with her bare fist.
A hand closed around her shoulder and she spun around, half
expecting another nurse with the offer of a mild sedative. She
realized the doctor on call had left a prescription for her after the
first big blow up of the evening, when she threatened to pull his
IRS records for the last 20 years for auditing. <What time had that
been? she wondered. <Somewhere around 3 or 3:30, just a little
over an hour from the time we came in, her mind told her. This
whole conversation with herself took only a split second, but the
person trying to get her attention noticed the detached blank stare.
"Dana, honey. It's mom," Margaret Scully said softly, almost
afraid to break her daughter out of her trance. At the sound of her
mother's voice, Dana instantly woke up to her surroundings and
hugged her mother fiercely.
"Oh, Mom! I'm so glad you finally got here. I've been going
crazy. I just want to kill somebody," Dana fumed. "Mom, they
won't let me in there, they won't let me see his chart, they aren't
giving me any information on his condition at all--I'm ready to
scream. They have no idea what they're doing. I'm trying to get
him evac-ed back to DC. At least at GWU or Georgetown, they'd
tell me what was going on. These Goddam New Englanders all
think they know everything just because they have their own
Journal of Medicine!" Her chest was heaving with the effort to
keep up the tirade.
"Where's the lounge?" Maggie asked quietly. She reached up
and brushed Dana's hair out of her eyes. "We need to talk."
Some of the fire went out of Dana's eyes as she calmed down
and took a deep breath. She took her mother's arm and led her
down the hall to a little waiting area just five doors away. Even
then, she positioned herself so that she could see everyone and
everything going in and out of the room her partner was in. Her
concentration on the door was so strong, Maggie had to shake her
knee to get her attention.
"Dana, tell me what happened. When you called you refused to
say anything over the phone. Now, what is going on?"
Dana looked into her mother's eyes. "I DON'T KNOW what's
going on, Mom. That's the point. He's sick. It's not a gunshot
wound, not a blow to the head. When I found him, he was running
an extremely high fever, he was totally unresponsive, his lungs were
congested, his heart rate was thready. I don't know how or why.
And these bastards aren't letting me near him to find out," she
seethed angrily.
"Sweetheart, I'm confused. Was Fox sick last night? How was
he the last time you talked to him?" Maggie watched her daughter's
expression turn from anger to one of hesitation. There was
something going on here and Dana didn't want to get into it, but
Maggie knew she had no choice. "When was the last time you
spoke?" she asked. Then she sat back, and waited.
Dana bit back the tears in her eyes, but they managed to sneak
into her voice. When she spoke, the words came out strained and
high, like when she had been caught doing something that was
forbidden when she was a little girl. The sound of that voice almost
broke Maggie's heart. "Oh, Mom. I didn't talk to him. I yelled at
him. It must have been about midnight, I guess. I. . .I didn't have
my watch on." <I didn't have _anything_ on, for that matter, >she
added in her own mind. Maggie said nothing, waiting for the story
to continue.
Taking a deep breath, Dana started again. "Mom, I didn't really
want to tell you this, well, not like this, anyway. Mulder and I," she
stopped and searched for the words to soften the blow. "Since
Christmas we've. . ."
"Discovered you were in love and decided to act on that
discovery?" Maggie filled in for her. Dana swallowed hard and
nodded. Maggie's smile lit up the small waiting room. "Baby, I'm
so happy for you. It's something I've often wished for, but I knew
you two had to come to this decision on your own, so I never said
anything." Maggie reached over and gave her daughter's arm a
quick squeeze. "I wish you had a ring on your finger, but I'm not
living in the Middle Ages. You have 'things' you have to consider,
too, work and all. I know you're both committed to each other.
Fox is nothing if he's not an honorable man. I know he would
never hurt you or leave you alone." But Maggie also sensed that
the guilt in her daughter's eyes had nothing to do with 'living in sin',
there was something more going on here. "You said you yelled at
him. You had a fight, I take it?"
Dana snorted. "Pretty one sided fight, actually, Mom. I did
most of the fighting. I've been so crabby lately. I guess I'm tired, I
don't know. Somedays I just want to curl up about 2 or 3 in the
afternoon and take a nap. Maybe it's the weather. Mulder want's
me to go to a doctor, but I've been putting it off. We've been so
busy." She looked across and could tell that her mother thought
she as straying from the subject at hand. "OK, yes, we had a fight.
Usually, we rent two rooms with an adjoining door. We've been
doing this for years, no one cares by this point. Since Christmas,
well, we've only really _used_ one room. We had a fight,
somewhere around midnight, like I said. I got out of bed and
stormed off to the other room. And I locked the door on my side.
I think he tried to knock once, but I turned the TV up louder so I
could pretend that I couldn't hear him, and he left me alone after
that."
"I didn't really go to sleep. I dozed a little. Then I woke up and
just laid there. I got to thinking about what you told me, that you
and Daddy tried to never go to sleep angry with one another, and I
decided I had been a royal bitch, so I went to apologize. That was
probably about 2 this morning. When I went in, I found him. Like
I told you, fever, having difficulty breathing, unresponsive. I called
911 and tried not to freak out completely. Mom, this isn't the flu.
It came on much too fast. I'm afraid," she stopped. She didn't want
to worry her mother. The past year had been nothing but worry,
especially with Melissa's death. But then, she could see that
Maggie had already picked up on her train of thought.
"You think he might have been poisoned?" Maggie asked, trying
not to let the sound of her own distress seep out into her voice.
"I don't think, I'm sure. Poison or infected by some organism
that these jokers are never going to figure out in time. Ah, Mom, I
can't make them understand that things like this just don't happen by
coincidence," she moaned. "At least not to Mulder and me. They
think I'm crazy," she added with a grim smile. "And they've been
trying to sedate me, so I'll quit bugging them. I called Skinner and
he's working on the evac. _He_ believes me, even if these bastards
don't," she added with another snort.
Maggie started to say something when a tall man with graying
hair and wearing a white lab coat appeared in the doorway. "Agent
Scully?" he asked, a little hesitant. Dana's head shot up and she
glared at him as she stood up.
"I'm Special Agent Scully," she intoned and Maggie flinched,
half expecting her daughter to pull her gun and twirl it around once
or twice before holstering it, just for effect.
"I'm Dr. Fields. I came on at 7 this morning. We just received
word from the FBI in DC that you are listed as Agent Mulder's next
of kin. I'm sorry for the mix up, we couldn't really discuss his case
with you until we were sure of the proper authorizations." He
looked at her sheepishly.
"Don't bother to explain, Dr. Fields. I understand all about
covering your ass from 'violation of privacy' suits. Just tell me what
the hell is going on and let me see my partner," she seethed.
"I would really like to talk to you about his condition first, if I
may. We can speak in my office, it might be more. . .private?" he
offered, trying not to look at Maggie as he spoke, but it was
obvious that she was his source of discomfort.
"Dr. Fields, this is my mother, Margaret Scully and she is a good
friend of Agent Mulder's. If you notice, she is listed as his alternate
next of kin, in case I can't be reached. Anything you want to tell
me, you can say in front of her, Mulder won't mind."
"OK, then, maybe all three of us can go to my office. I have
some X rays to show you and it'll be easier to discuss the lab results
down there," Dr. Fields countered. Dana stood her ground a
minute, she didn't want to lose sight of the door where Mulder was.
There was no guard here, and if her suspicions were correct, she
didn't want to leave him unattended.
Maggie saw the hesitation and understood immediately.
"Honey, you go with Dr. Fields. Since this whole 'next of kin' thing
has been cleared up now, maybe I can go sit with Fox until you
come back. Would that make you feel better?"
Dana shot a look over to Dr. Fields, daring the man to object.
He didn't. "That would be fine with me, Mrs. Scully," he said
brightly. At least he was attempting to play nice now. Dana took a
breath and slowly nodded, stepping in front of the doctor and then
stopping to motion for him to lead the way.

Maggie pushed the door open. She was somewhat surprised
that Fox was still in a private room. From the looks of the room,
however, the doctors had moved all the equipment normally found
in an intensive care unit to this room. A nurse in salmon colored
scrubs was adjusting the flow of an IV and looked up. At the
nurse's questioning glance, Maggie explained. "I'm listed as one of
Fox's next of kin. I'm Maggie Scully. Dr. Fields said it would be all
right if I sat with him a while." The nurse nodded curtly and went
back to work.
From her recent experiences with Dana's coma and Melissa's
shooting, Maggie recognized much of the equipment surrounding
the young man. He was on a ventilator, not unlike the one Dana
had been on just a year and a half ago upon her return. She
watched for a moment as his chest moved up and down in perfect
rhythm to the balloon that was fixed on the machine, just above his
head on the pillow. His face was pale, but his cheeks and the tips
of his ears held a flush that Maggie knew came with a high fever.
The heart monitor was beeping at an annoying rate, not the gentle
beep, beep, beep, of 60 beats a minute, but faster, more like 90
from the digital reading. Maggie might not have gone to medical
school, but she knew that was too fast for a resting heart. She
worried her lower lip and finally reached out to take his hand.
There were IV's in both arms, different colored labels on each of
the two bags hanging above his bed, so she assumed that meant
different medications. She hesitated to hold his hand, she was
afraid she might disturb the tube in his wrist, but he looked so . .
.alone. She shifted for a moment and found a comfortable position
that allowed her to clasp her hand over his and not actually move
his hand. It made her feel better that at least he was getting some
physical contact from another human being and not just enclosed in
plastic tubes and wires.
She watched him intently, wishing him to open his eyes and see
her there. "Ah Fox," she sighed quietly, once the nurse had left the
room. "I haven't even had the chance to welcome you to the
family, yet." She closed her eyes and the tears refused to stay put
behind their barrier. "Please don't leave her. She's going to need
you now more than ever, if my suspicions are right."

If Dana thought she was frustrated when she had no
information, she had no clue as to how frustrated she would feel
once she _had_ information. She had looked at the X rays, it
looked like full blown pneumonia. She looked at the lab work and
none of the results made sense. His white blood count was no
where near where it would be if he had pneumonia. It didn't appear
to be viral, it didn't appear to be bacterial, it was almost as if his
immune system was self destructing with no outside stimulus to
cause it. <Or at least none that is showing up in the tests, she
thought. The good Dr. Fields was equally nonplused and had
assured her that he was sending the blood work and X rays to
everyone from Johns Hopkins, to the Centers for Disease Control
and the National Institutes for Health in Bethesda. <Well, at least
Mulder has data bases at all those institutions, Scully thought
dryly as Dr. Fields made more phone calls.
"At this point, I'm not sure, but I'm tempted to quarantine him.
We have so little to go on, he doesn't seem to be contagious, but
frankly, I hate to overlook the possibility. I assume you two work
closely together," Dr. Fields added, glancing up just in time to see
the red flush cross her cheeks. Something about her posture set off
alarms in his head. "Should we be running some bloodwork on
you, as well, Agent Scully? If there has been close contact. . .say,
exchange of bodily fluids. . ." he stopped to wait, deciding that if
she was going to attack, she would at that moment.
She surprised him completely. She surprised herself. This was
something she had considered just seconds before it occurred to
Fields. But her rationale was different. This could be some new
biological weapon they were seeing. It could be a reaction to the
retrovirus he had been exposed to in Alaska. It could have some
bizarre connection to the computer chip in her neck and the tests
that had been performed. There were any number of possibilities,
each more frightening than the one before. And she hadn't been
feeling that well for some time.
"I think that it might be wise to run some bloodwork on me, Dr.
Fields. I'm not concerned for myself, but it would give us
something to go on. If nothing else, it would either prove or
eliminate contagion as a possibility. And if this is contagious and I
have been exposed, I don't want to be infecting others through
casual contact." She buried herself in the lab results again, to avoid
looking the doctor in the eye.
"I'll make arrangements immediately," he said quietly.

*****

Every Mother Dreams Part two
Disclaimer in part one

Boston General Hospital
10:30 am

The woman with silver gray hair walked calmly through the
lobby of the hospital. No one noticed her, no one could tell that
this was one of the first times she had set foot in a hospital in over
20 years. She hated hospitals, was afraid of them in much the same
way her only son was afraid of fire and afraid of the dark and quiet.
But she held herself almost regally as she moved to the information
desk.
"I'm looking for Agent Fox Mulder. I understand he was
admitted here late last night," she said in a clear voice. The
receptionist paged through her computer screen until she found the
entry.
"Oh, yes, here it is, Fox Mulder. He's on 6 south. But I'm
afraid you can't go up there right now. Agent Mulder is in isolation
and no visitors except immediate family members are allowed," the
receptionist said in a businesslike tone.
"It's all right," the older woman replied. "I'm his mother." And
with that, she left the reception desk and made her way to the
elevators.
It was slow going up to 6 South, with several stops along the
way. By the time the elevator opened on to the floor she wanted,
she was seriously considering turning back. They hadn't really
talked in almost a year. Their last conversation had been anything
but pleasant. But the dreams she had been having over the last
three or four nights had gotten stronger and stronger and she no
longer had the strength to resist them. She steadied herself and
walked over to the nurses station.
"Could you direct me to Fox Mulder's room, please. I'm his
mother," she told the nurse filing charts in a hanging wall file. The
nurse glanced at her, then pulled a chart.
"I'm sorry. His next of kin are both in the room with him now.
I'm afraid you'll have to wait in the waiting room."
She stood in shocked silence. 'His next of kin'? What in the
world was this woman talking about? She was his mother, for gods
sakes! Was this nurse insane?
"There must be some kind of mistake. I _am_ his next of kin. I
am his mother. I have no idea who is in his room right now, but I
demand to be allowed to see my son, immediately, or I will be
contacting my attorney!" If it had worked for Bill 30 years ago,
maybe it would work for her now.
The nurse sighed deeply. The streets were full of nutcases these
days, and everyone of them had a lawyer. "Tell you what. I'll go
talk to his partner. Maybe she can clear this up. In the meantime,
why don't you have a seat in the waiting room and I'll have
someone bring you a cup of coffee." She finished with a bright
smile.
The silver haired woman looked at the nurse coldly, but did as
she was told. She sat primly in the plastic covered armchair and
waited for the little red haired woman who was her son's partner.
Dana left her mother in the room with Mulder and hurried down
to the waiting room. "Mrs. Mulder?" she asked. The older woman
stood up and nodded.
"Hello, Agent Scully. How is my son? They don't seem to want
me to see him for some reason."
Dana took the older woman's shoulder and guided her toward
the room, throwing a fierce glance over to the nurse behind the
desk. "IRS is going to have an _awful_ lot of audits to perform in
the next few months," she grumbled, just loud enough to be heard
in passing. The nurse blanched, but didn't say a word.
Mrs. Mulder was a bit taken back by the gown and masks
required to enter the room, but she made no comment. Dana held
the door open and allowed Mrs. Mulder to pass through ahead of
her. The older woman stood still as stone in the doorway. Plastic
had been draped around the bed, giving the appearance of an old
oxygen tent from the World War Two movies she used to love.
Even though he was the only occupant of the room, the plastic was
a precaution for his visitors and the staff. Fox was indeed in
isolation. Mrs. Mulder took a step forward and Dana slid in the
door behind her.
"Ah, Mrs. Mulder," Dana said quietly. "This is my mother,
Margaret Scully." Maggie stood and stared for a moment, then
relinquished her chair to the other woman. Mrs. Mulder barely
glanced at her at first, but finally turned to her and gave her a brief
nod. Then she sat down in the chair next to the hospital bed and
took her time surveying her son.
"What's wrong with him, Agent Scully? Do they have any
idea?" she asked.
The phrasing of the question took Dana by surprise. "He's
suffering from a high fever, it appears that his condition could be
complicated by pneumonia, but that is secondary to whatever is
causing his problems. They really don't know what is going on
right now, but they've sent his bloodwork to several labs and hope
to have some ideas soon."
"CDC in Atlanta?" came the terse question.
"Yes, as well as Johns Hopkins and NIH in Bethesda," Dana
replied, again wondering how much this woman knew. "Mrs.
Mulder, you sound like you might have some idea what caused this.
If you have any information, please tell me. His condition is critical
and the doctor's here aren't able to get a handle on it."
"Have they suggested turning off the machines?" Another
question out of the blue. Dana felt the vise around her heart
tighten.
"He hasn't met the requirements he laid out in his living will.
But I must tell you, he's dangerously close and his condition is not
improving. It's simply a matter of time. If you know anything,
Mrs. Mulder, please, please tell me now." Dana didn't even bother
to keep the pleading tone out of her voice. This woman was
definitely scaring her.
"There isn't much I can tell you, Agent Scully. The only person
who could tell us anything has been dead for almost a year," she
said with a deep sigh.

Mulder was sitting on 'his' bench, in front of the Jefferson
Memorial. It was a favorite spot, he could watch the lights of the
monument reflecting off the surface of the Tidal Basin. It's where
he had come many times to meet with his old mentor, Deep Throat,
as Scully called him. It was where he had brooded over the closing
of the project, where he had wept when Duane Barry had taken
Scully away from him, where he had silently mourned his father's
death and the death of Melissa Scully. It didn't really surprise him
to awake here, he was just curious how he got here.
Soft footsteps came up behind him on the wide cement path. It
was dark, but he wasn't afraid and he wasn't cold, even though the
cherry trees had neither leaves nor blossoms and the Tidal Basin
was covered with a thick layer of ice. The footsteps grew louder,
but he didn't turn around. For once in his life, he felt the luxury of
patience.
The small figure sat down on the bench next to him. Finally he
chanced to look over and was a bit surprised at who it was. "Hi,
Fox," Melissa Scully said in her quiet tone of voice. "How's it
going?"
"I don't know, Melissa. I guess I should ask you that question.
That, and what am I doing here, how did I get here, where is your
sister. . ?" he counted the questions off on his fingers. She smiled
and shook her head.
"Remember the Bridge, Fox? The Bridge between Two
Worlds? You're standing on it again. What do you remember?"
He thought hard. It was like trying to pull a shoelace out of his
vacuum cleaner. His memories just didn't want to budge. He
vaguely remembered the case in Boston. Simple enough, a
haunting. He had joked to Scully that he felt like they should
change the name of the division from X Files to Ghostbusters, and
she had teased him that the trademark was already registered to
someone else. It was good to see her laugh. She'd been so tired in
the last few weeks. After an extensive search of the house, which
was a disaster area, they came up with nothing. They had finally
concluded that there was no legal action required, no perpetrator
who could be incarcerated, no laws violated, but the house would
never be habitable, that was for sure. Until he could convince
Scully of the existence of poltergeist, the case would remain
unsolved. It was late when they finished up the paperwork and
both decided it would be better to return to the motel and get some
sleep before returning to DC in the morning.
The motel was not four star, and he felt a little guilty about that.
Lately, since Christmas, he wanted only the best for her. It wasn't
like he hadn't wanted the best for her before, he just didn't allow
himself to think about it. But ever since Christmas, things had
changed. He furrowed his brow as he tried to remember what had
happened at Christmas.
It came to him slowly, the images almost sneaking up on him.
Scully had wanted him to come with her to her mom's on Christmas
morning, but he had begged off. He still felt a little uncomfortable
around the Scully clan since Melissa's death. He knew his guilty
feelings were misplaced, but that did not make them any less real to
him. Finally, they had agreed that she would stop by after going to
her mom's so he could help her eat the leftovers that her mother
always loaded her down with on the way out the door. She had
arrived a little after five, just in time for the seventh straight
showing of 'It's a Wonderful Life'. They had warmed up the
leftover turkey, stuffing, yams, cranberries, gravy with mashed
potatoes, and lots and lots of Christmas cutout cookies and stuffed
themselves to the gills. By 7:30, they were sitting on the couch,
surfing cable channels, drowsy and content.
He still wasn't quite sure who made the first move. He
remembered getting up to get another blanket so that she could
snuggle up because the temperature had dropped outside and the
wind was howling through the living room window. But sometime,
between 'Frosty Returns' and 'The Honeymooner's Christmas
Special', they found something they had tried very hard to keep
hidden from each other--the fact that they really were in love. They
moved rather quickly from their first kiss to their first night
together.
He had woken up next to her that following morning and every
morning since. The first day back at the office they had been
terrified. He was sure he had the fact that they were now lovers
chiseled on his forehead. She kept looking down at her silk blouse,
half expecting a bright red A to have appeared magically. But no
one noticed. Not the usual office gossips, not the goofs in the
cafeteria, and most unexpectedly, not even Skinner said a word. So
they relaxed, and began to enjoy their new life, together.
He broke out of his memories and looked over at Melissa. She
was giving him a knowing smile. "What?" he asked, a little
disgruntled that she seem to know more than she was letting on.
"I'm very happy for you, that's all," she responded.
"Happy about what?" he countered and was more upset when
she giggled.
"Happy about you, the two of you. What fun would it be if we
couldn't keep on eye on those we love?" she asked. "I know all
about you and Dana and I'm very happy you finally came to your
senses."
"Yeah, well, I don't know if your sister is so happy," he snorted
in reply. More images were flooding his mind. They had gotten to
the motel, Dana deciding to take a bath to relax. He had gone in
and scrubbed her back, but they didn't stay in the bathroom very
long. Somehow, it didn't matter at the time that they got the sheets
and the blankets on the double bed soaking wet. Making love with
Dana Scully was one of the sweetest memories he had. It was
afterward, when they were lying on the still damp bed, that the
tension returned. He'd never remember what he had said to upset
her. It didn't take much these days and she was on him like gnats
on flypaper. She shouted, he tried to apologize, but only made
matters worse. She didn't even bother to look for her robe, she
stormed into the other room and locked the door. After a few
feeble attempts to get her to open up and let him in, he had fallen
asleep, drained, and more than a little frightened for their
relationship. "At least now that I'm beginning to remember last
night, she seemed pretty disillusioned by the situation. I think she's
afraid we've made a big mistake," he said quietly.
"For a psychologist, you are a pretty rotten judge of people's
intentions, you know that, Fox?" Melissa said, shaking her head and
frowning. "You have made Dana very happy."
"So why is she so angry all the time? It seems like everytime we
make love these days, we end up in a fight. I have to be doing
something wrong, or maybe she just finally realized she doesn't love
me as much as she thought she did," he moaned.
"She's tired, Fox. And in her condition, that's normal. Besides,
she confused. She's a doctor, but something's going on inside her
body and that's frightening to her. She wants to talk to you about
it, but she's afraid you'll drag her off to a doctor and she doesn't
want you getting the idea that she's weak," Melissa explained.
"That's crazy! I would never think she's weak. Scully's the
strongest person I know." He looked at his hands for a minute and
then was struck by something Melissa had said. "What's going on
inside her body?" he demanded. "Does this have anything to do
with that computer chip she found in her neck?" <If they hurt her,
those bastards. . . he fumed.
"No, Fox, it has to do with birth control that is only 95%
effective," Melissa said dryly.
Mulder frowned at this, trying to understand. When he slowly
realized exactly what she was saying, his eyes grew wide and he
gasped. "Ohmigod. . ."
"Well, yes, She did have something to do with it," Melissa
giggled. "But you two need to take at least some of the credit.
And Fox, please, do me a favor. Resist all attempts to name this
one after me. I've always hated my first name, but I couldn't tell
mom that. I thought about changing it when I was out in
California, but I never got around to it. Name her Samantha, after
your sister, or Margaret, after mom. Just avoid 'Missy' at all costs,
OK?"
Mulder was still in shock. "Dana's pregnant? And it's a baby
girl?" he asked, his voice shrill and incredulous.
"This one is. Don't worry, you'll get around to a boy. But this
one's definitely a little girl and Fox, she is beautiful. She'll steal
your heart the moment you first hold her." Melissa smiled, a misty
gleam in her eyes. "So you see, that's why it's so important that you
go back. I don't want my niece growing up never knowing her
father. Dad and I may have had our differences, but he made me
what I was, independent, resourceful. They need you, Fox. And
without you, Dana might be tempted to, well. . .it's hard to be a
single mom. I don't want her to feel she's facing this alone. You
owe her that much, don't you?"
"I have to go back, go back where?" he asked, dumbfounded by
the information suddenly bombarding him.
"Back to your life, Fox. You are on the Bridge because you are
very sick right now. It would be so easy to just stay here and not
fight, but that's not like you. What's happening to you is very tiring
and you'll be tempted to give up, especially if you've been doubting
Dana's love. You needed to know how much Dana needs you, how
much this baby needs you."
"Does Dana know about the baby?" he asked quietly.
Melissa gave him a huge smile. "Nope. I already told you, she
hasn't got a clue. She thinks she's anemic or something stupid like
that. So, 'daddy', it appears you aren't going to be the last to know,
you're actually the first. Oh, except Mom, she's figured it out, but
she hasn't told anyone, yet."
"Melissa, how could your mom know, we haven't even told her
about us. . ." his voice trailed off. "It's a mother's thing, isn't it?" he
asked, but it was a rhetorical question. He knew Scully's mother
well enough not to doubt for a minute that she already knew about
the change in their relationship _and_ about the baby. "Wonder if
she has the wedding planned, yet?" he asked under his breath.
"Won't be a wedding until you get well," Melissa pointed out.
"And exactly how do I go about doing that," Mulder growled.
"Concentrate on your body. On getting better. On being well
and strong for Dana. Fight, Fox. You've done it before, you just
have to do it again. Don't let them win. They've won too many
times recently, don't let them have their way this time. Fight with
every ounce of strength within you." She got up and started
walking away in the darkness. "Just fight. . ."
Fox was concentrating so hard on making sense of the words
that he didn't notice Melissa leave. He looked up to ask her a
question and discovered he was alone. "Melissa," he called into the
dark night. "Melissa, dammit, what were you saying? Something
about 'them'? Who are 'they', Melissa?"

FBI Headquarters
Washington, DC

Walter Skinner sat at his desk and rubbed his temples. It had
started out a good day, until he got the phone call informing him
that Fox Mulder was hospitalized--again. This time it made no
sense. Mulder hadn't been wounded, he was sick. The strange part
was, no one seemed to be able to say what was wrong with him.
Scully had begged to have him brought back to Washington, the
doctors in Boston had adamantly refused, saying Mulder was in no
condition to evac. His status was critical, he was on full life
support, he was being pumped with antibiotics AND antivirals and
he was showing absolutely no improvement. It had all come on
overnight and if it had been anyone other than Mulder, Skinner
might have doubted the competence of the doctors in Boston. In
this case, however, it could very well be that no one would ever
know what had made Mulder sick.
Skinner was so preoccupied that he didn't hear the side door to
his office open and the tall, thin smoker enter. The man sat down
on the leather couch and regarded Skinner warily.
"You called my office. I take it you wanted to talk to me," the
smoker said, lighting up a filtered Morley.
Skinner looked up, surprised by the voice. His surprise soon
turned to anger. "Damn straight, I called you, you son of a bitch! I
told you that if either Mulder or Scully came down with so much as
the sniffles, I would hold you personally responsible. Now, what
the hell have you done to Mulder?" Skinner was standing by this
point and from the looks of him, he wasn't going to be staying
behind his desk much longer, regardless of the other man's answer.
The smoker could not have looked more earnestly surprised.
"Walter. I have no idea what you're talking about. What's
happened to Mulder? If you are implying that I had anything to do
with him becoming injured. . ."
"Cut the shit, you bastard! You know perfectly well that he's
sick. Why else would you drop everything to come running over
here after I called? I told you what I'd do if you touched those two.
Well, for your information, I've been making a few calls this
morning. So far I've talked to Albert Holsteen and _he_ has been
calling his 'friends'. Funny, I never realized that the 'telephone tree'
is actually a Native American invention. By this time tomorrow the
contents of the so-called MJ Files will be public information,
courtesy of the Associated Press or whoever else Albert decides to
call today. So if you want to tell me what's wrong with Mulder,
you might be able to soften the blow of that little headline. Now
talk!"
The smoker's face betrayed his anxiety for just a split second.
Then, just as quickly, he was hidden behind a mask of perfect
control. "Walter, you've used your chip too soon. If the Indian
goes to the press this afternoon, why should I bother to help you
find out what's wrong with Mulder? Might as well let the only
corroborating witness go to his grave, so to speak. But if you gave
me a little time, say until 6 o'clock tonight. . ."
"Mulder's condition is such that he might not survive until 6
o'clock tonight!" Skinner seethed. "And I'm not feeling in a
particularly generous mood, right now."
The smoker made a quick check of his watch. "It's just a little
after 11. At least give me 3 hours to come to the bottom of this. It
is possible that Mr. Mulder managed to find a virulent strain of the
flu, you know, Walter. But I will look into it. I'll be back just after
2, if you can keep your 'hounds' at bay until then?"
Skinner faced him down with a steely glare. "Three hours. It
won't really affect tomorrow's editions much anyway, given the
time difference," he taunted.
The smoker nodded and left by the door he had come in.

*****

Every Mother Dreams part three
disclaimer in part one

Boston Hospital
12 noon

With quite a bit of motherly persuasion, Maggie had finally
convinced Dana to go down to the nurse's lounge and take a nap.
She knew better than to think that her daughter would sleep for
very long, but she could see the way she was struggling to stay
awake and it worried Maggie. Dana refused to leave without
pushing aside the plastic curtain and giving Fox a quick kiss on the
forehead. With tears straining in her eyes, she followed the nurse
down the hall to the lounge, leaving the two mothers to watch over
her partner.
"Mrs. Mulder," Maggie started after an uncomfortable silence.
"Ann," the other woman replied. "My name is Ann."
"Ann," Maggie repeated. "I'm Maggie. I want to tell you how
much I admire your son. He's been a godsend to my family. I've
grown rather. . .fond of him," she added, not really wanting to go
further.
"How long have they been lovers?" Ann asked, her tone one of
question and not judgment.
"It shows, doesn't it?" Maggie answered with a slight smile.
"Less time than you'd think, really. Just since Christmas."
That seemed to surprise Ann. "Since Christmas? This last
Christmas?" Her eyes widened as Maggie affirmed the date with a
nod. "When your daughter came to see me at William's funeral, I
assumed. . ."
"You asked how long they've been lovers. They've been in love
a lot longer, they just refused to admit that fact," said Maggie. Ann
shot her a perplexed look. "Oh, it's some stupid FBI policy,"
Maggie added hastily. "If their supervisor were to find out that
they are 'involved' personally, they'd be reassigned to other
divisions. They'd no longer be able to work together. A rather
archaic view of the world, but it's the current regulation, I guess."
Her terse tone let Ann know exactly how little regard she had for
that particular policy.
"It's probably for the best. I'm sure it could put them in more
danger. . .if it were known that they had become involved, I mean,"
Ann spoke with a quiet dignity. "It's just a shame that they've had
so little time. . ."
The tone of the discussion was upsetting to Maggie. <It's time
to change the subject. "Ann," she asked, curious. "How did you
find out about Fox? Did someone from the Bureau call you?"
Ann had stood up and was standing close to the head of the bed.
"No. No one called. I've never expected anyone to call me, really.
Fox would hate it if he knew that I was even here. He wouldn't
want to worry me," she huffed, letting her own displeasure at this
decision of her son's show clearly in her expression.
"Then, how did you find out?" Maggie asked.
"I dreamed about it. Well, not really dreamed about this, here,
now. I dreamed about when he was four. It was so clear. Just like
I was there again, standing in that little hospital room. . ."
Maggie stood up and walked over to the other woman. "Ann,
you aren't making any sense. What does Fox being sick have to do
with a dream about him when he was four. . .?"
"This isn't the first time he's had this. . .'illness'," she said with
disgust. "He was very sick when he was 4. We almost lost him
then. At the time, I thought. . ." she broke down and started to
sob. "Oh, Maggie, I don't think I can go through this again. Last
spring they told me he was missing in the line of duty, now this. . ."
Maggie held her tight, letting Ann cry on her shoulder.

A Gentlemen's Club
New York
1:00 pm

Five well dressed men sat in silence, watching every move on
the hawk-like face before them. The center of their attention
showed no emotion, occasionally drawing on his cigarette and
letting the smoke escape his lungs through his nostrils.
"It just concerns me that I was not informed of this phase of the
experiment," he was saying, trying to determine if this breach of
inclusion was more than just an oversight.
A well mannered man with an English accent spoke up first.
"We saw no reason to inform you. It was in the plan that such
steps would be taken. After all, it has been over a year since his
exposure to the retrovirus. And 30 years since the introduction of
the substance into his system. Now seemed an appropriate time to
reassess the progress of the genetic factors."
"Reassessment is one thing," remarked the smoker. "Autopsy is
another. I was under the impression that Mr. Mulder was worth
more to us alive than dead."
"The only danger Mr. Mulder is in would come from a medical
community too quick to discontinue living sustaining measures on
the basis of cost accounting. His condition is grave, but his stamina
has been proven in the past. If no one 'pulls the plug' on the young
man, his recovery will proceed much the same way it did the last
time, and during the original procedure." The Englishman looked
sternly at the hawk-like features again. "Is there something _you_
haven't informed us of?" he asked pointedly.
The quick blush was replaced by an expression of anger. "Of
course not! I haven't kept anything from you. I was just concerned
when I heard of his sudden illness. . ."
"The tapes, the MJ files, there is nothing involving them in your
'concern', is there?" the Englishman continued.
"This discussion is leading no where," interrupted an Asian
gentleman. "As long as Mr. Mulder is on life support, and as long
as the good doctors are sending the vital information to places
within our influence, there is no reason to panic. Besides, I have
good information that tells me Mr. Mulder has changed some
aspects of his life that make it more desirable for him to continue it.
He has something to live for, as they say. That might help prevent
any premature announcements of death. I suggest we continue to
let 'nature' take its course."
The English gentleman continued his close scrutiny of the
smoking man. Finally, he sat back in the overstuffed leather
armchair, a look of a decision having been made on his worn face.
"Of course, you are right, as always, my friend. Nothing has been
broken that cannot be repaired. Young Mulder will only be in his
current state for another 24 hours if all goes well. Barring the end
of support, he will then recover, in much the same way Ms. Scully
did before him. And we will have another important piece of
information to add to our files. Now, if you'll all excuse me, I do
have business to attend to." He rose from his chair and brushed
shoulders with the smoking man. "Have a pleasant afternoon," he
said as he passed, glaring directly at him, searching for any sign of
weakness.
"I always do," came the reply.
As the English gentleman left the room, the Asian man stood
and walked quietly over to the smoker. "Can you handle the
problem?" he asked in a sotto voice.
"I don't see where I have a problem," the smoker replied in a
husky whisper. Seeing the look of concern on the Asian's face, he
added, "It will be resolved, rest assured. Your confidence in me is
well placed."

Boston General
1:25 pm

A strong hand gently shook Dana's shoulder. "Agent Scully.
Agent Scully. Dr. Fields would like to speak with you."
Scully looked up into the intense brown eyes leaning over her.
Slowly the fog cleared in her brain and she remembered where she
was. "Mulder!" she exclaimed, bolting straight up. The young
nurse who had awakened her reached over again to steady her in
the reclining chair.
"Agent Mulder's condition remains unchanged," she assured
Scully quietly. "The Doctor received some of the results from
Atlanta and wanted to go over them with you."
Dana nodded and stretched, trying to wipe the last of the sleep
from her eyes. It wasn't that encouraging, Mulder was still in
critical condition, still in a coma. But at least he did not appear to
be slipping away any faster. It was all too confusing for Scully.
<Hopefully the results will shed some light on this, she prayed.
She walked out of the lounge and headed for Dr. Fields office.
On the way, she passed Mulder's door. Without hesitation, she
pushed it open and walked over to the bed, all but ignoring the two
women still seated in the room. She pushed a corner of the plastic
aside and stepped closer to the bed, leaning over the still, pale
figure and laying her hand on his forehead. Almost absently, she
fingered the strand of hair that always refused to stay in place.
"Hey, good looking," she whispered with affection. "Sorry I
deserted you. I hope you're getting some rest, because you sure
could use it. I know I could. But don't get too used to this, OK? I
refuse to feed you through an IV when I get you home." She
brushed his hair off his forehead and leaned over to give him a kiss
there. "I gotta go talk to your doctor. The one you don't sleep
with," she added with a mischievous grin. "I'll be back soon. Try
to be nice to the moms till I get back, OK, love?" She squeezed his
hand in her own. "I love you, Fox," she murmured and released his
hand as she left.
After making sure the plastic curtain was in it's proper place, she
turned to Maggie and Ann. "So, I can see there's been no change,"
she said, trying to keep the fear and frustration out of her voice.
"Dr. Fields has the test results back. I was just on my way there.
Mrs. Mulder, would you care to come with me? I mean, I don't
want you to think . . ." she let her voice trail off. Mulder might
want to keep his mother in the dark, but she had no intentions of
doing that to the woman, especially since Ann had cared enough to
come. Dana still wondered how the older woman had discovered
her son's whereabouts, but she figured Ann would tell her soon
enough.
Ann Mulder looked up, slightly confused. "You want me to go
with you?" she asked.
"You _are_ his mother. If there're decisions to be made about
his care, I'd feel better if you were there. Unless you don't want to.
. ." Dana said, not wanting to pressure the woman too much.
Ann stood and glanced over at Maggie, who nodded her
reassurance. "No. I'd like to be there. Thank you, my dear.
Please, lead the way." In seconds, the confused and timid woman
had transformed into the dignified lady who had entered the
hospital just hours earlier. Maggie was impressed.
"Mrs. Mulder, I wanted to apologize for,. . .well, for not calling.
. ." Dana started to explain as they walked down the hallway to Dr.
Fields office.
Ann cut her off with a wave of her hand. "Agent Scully, there is
no need for apologies. I may not know my son as well as you do,
but I understand him. He has never thought of me as a strong
woman, I doubt that he ever will. He doesn't want me to know
when he's sick or injured because he wants to protect me. It's a
genetic deformity, I'm afraid, handed down from his father's side of
the family," she smiled grimly. "He can't help it. You just have to
get used to it."
"But I'm not Mulder, and I should have called. I mean, you're
so close by. I'm sorry you were called by the office," Dana said
shaking her head. When they arrived at Dr. Field's office, he was
not in and the nurse asked them to wait.
"Agent Scully, no one called me. As I told your mother, I had a
dream. When I woke up from it, I started called hospitals. I tried
several in Washington before it finally struck me that the hospital he
had been transferred to all those years ago was this one. I called
here and they confirmed my suspicions. So I came right away."
Dana sat and stared at the older woman in confusion. "Mrs.
Mulder, I don't think I understand. What do you mean you had a
dream? And to my knowledge, Mulder, I mean, Fox has never
been at Boston General. They would have had records. . ."
Ann smiled gently. "Records can be sealed, dear. And some
records are stored in very secure facilities. It was 30 years ago. I
doubt that even Boston General has kept inactive records on their
data bases that long."
"Fox would have been four years old," Dana said, incredulous.
"Just a month past his 4th birthday, to be exact. I was pregnant
with Samantha at the time." Her eyes misted at the memory. "It
was November and already it had gotten cold. Fox used to wake
me up every night, he hated the dark and the quiet. He would come
into our bedroom and beg me to come lie down with him. I would,
of course. Just until he fell back asleep. Then I would go back to
our bed and the house would be quiet until morning. Except this
one night. I had put him to bed as usual, he had been bouncing off
the walls all day. He was so excited because he had felt the baby
kick. He wanted a baby brother so badly. . .," she sighed deeply.
"So it took two books to get him to lie down. It was snowing, a
very early snow, and I promised that he could play in it the next
morning. He fell asleep and I went to bed."
"I woke up and it was light outside. Very early morning. I
knew right away that something was wrong, Fox hadn't made his
little nightly visit. I ran into his room and found him. . .he had a
high fever, he sounded like he was having trouble breathing. Bill
was in DC for a meeting. I called the hotel and caught him just
before he left. He told me to call the ambulance. We got Fox to
the hospital in Chilimark, but they were afraid they didn't have the
facilities. They transferred him here. Bill arrived shortly after we
got here ourselves. I sat up with him that first night, but he was
comatose and I don't think he ever knew where he was or that I
was there. I was so afraid for him. He hated being alone, still hates
it I would imagine." She looked back at Dana, coming back to the
present for a moment. "I'm very happy he has you, Agent Scully.
He needs you very much."
"I need him, too, Mrs. Mulder," Dana whispered. "But what
was wrong with him? What did the doctors discover? It might
have some bearing on what is happening now," she added, mentally
crossing her fingers that it would.
Ann seemed not to hear her, lost in the memory. "He was losing
ground on the second day. The doctors felt that all the machines
were only keeping his body alive. They tried to talk us into turning
off the machines. Bill would have none of it. He threatened to sue
them, even called our lawyer, just in case. Fox continued to slide
for the next day and I was terrified. I love my son, Agent Scully.
He's my baby boy. I couldn't believe that he was being taken from
me. Then, on the fourth day, the doctors noticed a decline in his
temperature. It had been so high for so long they were sure he
would be brain damaged. But that afternoon, I was sitting with him
and he opened his eyes. He looked around and started crying
because 'Alexander' wasn't there. His bear. The one Bill brought
him from Niagara Falls one business trip. When he remembered
Alexander, I knew he would be all right. I started to cry, too." She
wiped a tear out of her eye with a tissue.
"But Mrs. Mulder," Dana prodded gently. "What was the
diagnosis? What was the cause of the fever?"
"Oh, dear, they never found one. They called it 'undetermined
fever' and left it at that. Our pediatrician kept a close watch on him
for the next year. We took him in almost monthly for bloodwork,
but we never found out what had caused the illness. And frankly,
once Sam was born, he never really got sick again. Until the day
after. . ." she stopped talking as her throat closed up. When she got
control of her emotions again, she continued. "Until the morning
after Sam was taken. He went into shock and was unresponsive for
four days, but there was no fever, no difficulty breathing. The
doctor said it was common in cases of severe trauma. I don't think
it was related."
"Mrs. Mulder," Dana asked, taking a different approach. "Do
you remember the name of the physician who treated Fox during his
stay here at Boston? If there were records kept, it's most likely that
he might have access to them."
"His name was Gleason. Jonathan Gleason. But don't bother to
look for him, dear. I read in the paper that he committed suicide
about a year after Fox was under his care. A terrible tragedy--the
man had so much to live for. They say he jumped out one of the
hospital windows, with medical gauze around his neck. I was
devastated. He had been so gentle with Fox."
******

Every Mother Dreams part four
by Vickie Moseley
vmoseley@fgi.net
Disclaimer in part one

Mrs. Mulder words chilled Dana to the bone. She recognized
the 'suicide' for what it was--a murder. Just like the one that had
killed Dr. Berube, the scientist working on 'Purity Control'. It was
just too much of a coincidence. She was considering what to do
with this piece of information when Dr. Fields arrived.
"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Agent Scully." He looked
over at Ann, a perplexed look on his face. "And you are. . ."
"Ann Mulder. I'm Fox's mother," she said and offered her hand.
Dr. Fields shook the older woman's hand with an even more
confused look. "But I assumed that, . . .since Agent Mulder has his
partner and her mother listed as next of kin,. . ." he stammered.
"My partner and I are in a dangerous line of work, Dr. Fields.
He's always been afraid that it might be too dangerous for his
mother's sake, as well. But she's here now, and I want her involved
in his care. I know he wouldn't object," Dana said matter of factly.
"Now, what did the lab results show?"
"Not very much, I'm afraid. There were some trace elements
that the lab could not identify. Other than that, there seemed to be
no cause. It's possible that the traces were a form of virus, but
none that we had ever seen and even then, it appears inactive, waste
product. Some of the traces couldn't even be identified that much.
But they were in such minuscule amounts. . .if they are causing the
problem, I would still be at a loss as to how to proceed with
treatment. So, in the absence of a better idea, I plan on treating the
symptoms and watching for a change. I think it's the best we can
do."
"I mean no disrespect, but I would really like to take him back
to Washington, Dr. Fields. He's been in GWU and Georgetown
enough times that they have all of his medical records on their data
bases." Suddenly, she realized that Ann was being very quiet beside
her. "Of course, if you would rather he stay here. . ." she said to
the older woman quickly.
"No, Agent Scully. I don't care where he is, I just want him
cared for. If it's easier on you to take him to DC, or if you think
they might have better research facilities to determine the cause of
this illness, then I'm all for moving him. I trust your judgment,
dear," Ann said, gently patting Scully's arm.
Dr. Fields fidgeted. "I really don't think that's wise, Agent
Scully. I know you were poorly treated last night, but believe me,
your partner is getting the best of care. I doubt sincerely that
moving him to DC is going to have any positive affect on his
treatment. And it is very possible that we might have a negative
outcome from the transfer--something I think we all want to avoid,"
he added pointedly.
It was obvious that Scully was not satisfied with this assessment,
but without word from Skinner, she had no backing on this
decision. It was one thing for his partner to want him moved, quite
another for it to be a request from the Assistant Director of the
FBI, with the backing of the Federal employees group health
insurance committee. Until such a request was forthcoming, she
was stuck. "We'll wait and see. But I want to keep the option
open," she said with a note of defiance in her voice.
"Certainly," replied Dr. Fields. "Now, Agent Scully, if I could
have a word with you alone. I have your lab results, as well."
Ann stood up. "I can find my way back to the room, dear." She
shook Dr. Fields hand again and left the room.
"It's not contagious, is it?" Dana asked, but it was more of a
statement than a question.
"No, it's not. There is no evidence that this. . .what ever it is,
would affect anyone but Agent Mulder. It is very curious, and
quite frankly, very disturbing. I understand what you mean when
you say you are in a very dangerous line of work, but I had no idea
that danger went further than gun shot wounds and stabbings.
Exactly what do you do for the FBI, if I might ask, Agent Scully?"
"We investigate unsolved cases and unexplained phenomena,"
she said with a grim smile.
"I think this case qualifies, in both areas," Dr. Fields said grimly.
"I'm sorry, but I have to bring this up. I have received much of
Agent Mulder's medical records, and of course, his living will. You
are the executor, I noted. And from the extensive medical
language, I can only assume that you assisted him in writing it out?"
He smiled at Dana's nod. "Then you know why I'm bringing it up."
Again, Dana nodded, but said nothing.
"Agent Scully, your partner is comatose. He isn't responding to
pain stimulus. According to your own specifications. . ."
"Dr. Fields, I know what is in that living will. And I know I
have a window of 24 hours to make a decision. I assume that 24
hours began about one minute ago, and I intend to take the full
amount of time allotted to make this decision," she said tersely.
Then she softened. "You have my results. Did they show
anything? It's possible that I might have been exposed to the same
'what ever'. . ." she trailed off.
"It's interesting that you should mention that, Agent Scully. In
fact, many of the same traces were found in your blood. It's
unusual that you weren't affected in the same way as your partner.
But there is something else we discovered, and I think you should
know immediately so that you can make some decisions." Dr.
Fields turned to a page in the report and handed it to her.
Dana accepted the pages and skimmed the results. Her eyes
grew wide when she found the section she knew he was referring
to.
"Then you didn't know," Dr. Fields nodded. "Well, we can
confirm that with a sonogram, or you may want to wait until you
see your own doctor in Washington. . ."
"Thank you, Dr. Fields," Dana said shakily. "I'll wait until I go
home. Now, if you'll excuse me," she said, rising and taking the
report with her. He simply nodded as she walked out the door.
Dana waited until she was down the hall to let the tears fall.
<How in the world could this happen! her minded shouted. They
had used birth control, they had been careful. <That damned
branched DNA! It must have had some affect. She wiped the
tears away with her sleeve. <What am I going to tell him she
groaned inwardly. They had thought it such an enormous step just
to begin sleeping together. That step had taken three years. They
had only been intimate barely three months and now she was
pregnant. <He's gonna freak! she thought.
Then, reality crashed down around her. <My God, what if he
doesn't wake up? she cried silently. It put this baby in an entirely
different light. If Fox died, this would be all that was left of him in
the world. And regardless of what happened, this was his child.
Her tears turned into sobs and she felt herself sliding down the wall.
When Ann got back, Maggie went out in the hall to look for
Dana. She found her, sobbing quietly into her knees in the middle
of the hallway. Gently, she helped her to her feet and walked her
back down to the still deserted waiting area. Maggie searched her
pockets and came up with a handful of tissues. She them to her
daughter and rubbed Dana's shoulders as she tried to pull herself
together. "It will be all right, sweetheart. I'm here. I'll take care of
you. It will be all right," Maggie murmured as she held her crying
daughter.
"I'm pregnant," Dana managed a hoarse whisper. "Fox doesn't
know. Hell, I didn't know till just now. . ."
"I know. For a doctor, you aren't very observant of your own
body, sweetheart."
Dana pulled away from her mother. "What do you mean?"
"Baby, I've been through this 4 times, remember? I can still
recall all those days in early pregnancy when all I wanted to do was
'curl up' at 2 or 3 o'clock in the afternoon and take a nap! The
minute you told me you have been cranky and tired, I suspected as
much."
"But I haven't been sick, Mom," Dana wailed. "I thought
pregnant women had morning sickness or something."
"You come from good stock, Dana. I didn't have morning
sickness once during four pregnancies. If you're lucky, you won't
either. From what I've heard from my friends, it's something you'll
be glad you missed."
Dana smiled through her tears, but then another thought struck
her. <If the branched DNA, or what ever they did to me while I
was missing. . .what if that might have an affect on the baby? The
thought instantly turned her blood to ice water. How would she
ever know? How could she find out when the most sophisticated
labs in the country couldn't even tell her what was wrong with
Mulder? But one thing was certain. These were fears she couldn't
share with her mother. She couldn't share them with anyone,
except, maybe, Mulder himself. Using every ounce of strength
within her, she sought that calm control that had allowed her to stay
professional in the worst possible situations. Somehow, she would
find out. Somehow, she would help Mulder get well. There was
no way she was going to lose him now.
"Well, Mom, what's done is done," she said, calmly. "And
sitting here crying isn't going to help Mulder get any better, now, is
it?"
Maggie had seen a spectrum of emotion cross her daughter's
face in just a few seconds, but now the wall was up and there would
be no further displays. <Oh, sweetheart, I hope you're all right,
she sighed to herself. "So, what did the lab results say, other than. .
."
"They have no idea what it is. Dr. Fields and I agree that it isn't
communicable," Dana said, and noticed her mother take a deep sigh
in relief. "Fields wants to treat the symptoms. I'm afraid, at this
point that's all we can go on. Mrs. Mulder did tell me something
while we were waiting, but I don't know how much bearing it has
on Mulder right now." Maggie looked at her curiously.
"Apparently, when Mulder was four, he had the same symptoms.
He was comatose for almost four days, and then he came out of it.
They never did find the cause and he never had another episode.
I've noticed that he's prone to fevers, but there's always been some
cause, exhaustion, infection, a broken bone. . .That fever came on
much like this one, no outside cause could be found. But it was 30
years ago. Now would be an odd time for a flare up."
"But it's possible, isn't it?" Maggie nudged. "Sweetheart, if he
survived it in the past, couldn't that be a good sign. I mean, it
might mean that his own body can fight this off. . ."
"I only wish it were that easy, Mom. Remember, we've had a
rough year. It was just a little over a year ago that he almost died
of hypothermia and. . ." she hesitated. Dana had never told her
mother the events that led up to Mulder wandering the Arctic. Her
mother had no knowledge of the alien virus that had almost killed
her partner. "Then, everything that happened around the time of his
father's death," she mused. "It's possible that some of that might
have taken a toll on his immune system. It's just so hard to know."
Dana looked up at her mother. "Mom, I want to be with him.
Mrs. Mulder is exhausted, I don't think she got much sleep last
night because of her dream. Could you take her over to our motel
and let her get some sleep? I'll call the moment there's any change."
Maggie squeezed her daughter's shoulder. "Of course, baby. If
she'll go with me. I have a feeling she's not such a horrible mother,
when given the chance. But I'll try and persuade her to get some
rest and we'll leave you two alone.

FBI Headquarters
1:58 pm

Walter Skinner glanced up at the clock on his wall for the fourth
time in as many minutes. <That Black Lunged Bastard thinks he
can get by with this, he stormed inwardly. <We'll see how he likes
being front page news, he added. Just then, the side door to his
office opened and the 'bastard' in question walked in.
Skinner stood up. "I was beginning to think you weren't going
to show," he growled.
"You underestimate my commitment to my promises, Skinner.
But then, you've never really played the game well, have you?" the
gaunt man said, purposefully striking a match and lighting up
another of his props. Then, in one smooth motion, he tossed an
unmarked file folder onto Skinner's desk.
"What's this?" Skinner barked.
"Evidence that I had nothing to do with Mulder's illness. As you
can see, it's his medical records from childhood. This is a recurring
illness, first noted when your agent was 4 years of age. It's simply
flaring up again, and I dare say, with all the excitement of the last
year, that's no surprise." He continued to blow blue smoke into the
room while Skinner read over the medical reports. They looked
authentic, but then, Skinner knew this man would stop at nothing to
protect himself and his superiors.
"If you open up our little secret to public scrutiny, Skinner, you
risk the young man's life. It is the only thing protecting him and his
partner at this point. I would hate to see you use it unnecessarily."
Without another word, he turned and left the room, leaving Skinner
to make his decision.
Walter Skinner sat at his desk, the file open in front of him,
frowning. When Mulder was a small child he had what the doctor's
decided was an ' undetermined fever'. Skinner didn't have a lot of
medical knowledge, but having filled out enough insurance forms
for the X Files division had taught him a thing or two. And the
truth of the bastard's parting words were not lost on him. If he did
play this particular card, he gave away all ability to protect Scully.
If only he could check it out, he pondered, chewing on the end of
his glasses. <Maybe it's time to visit Bean Town, he concluded.

Boston General Hospital
3:00 pm

The nurse had just finished changing the IV bags. Dana refused
to leave while the nurse worked, she wanted to watch every
movement. His vitals were still where they had been. His temp
was 103, his heart rate stayed at 80, which was too high, but not as
bad as if it were fluctuating and higher. And he was completely
dependent on the ventilator. But more frightening than all that was
the electroencephalograph reading. He was showing almost no
activity in his brain. The longer the fever stayed, the less likely it
was that he would ever recover.
"So this is what it was like," she murmured to herself, more than
to him. "Mom tried to tell me how it was, when I was returned, but
I guess I never wanted to actually believe it had been this rough on
you." Now that the nurse was gone, Dana pulled the chair back
next to the bed so that she could reach over and hold his arm.
"You really didn't have to show me, you know. I already got a
good taste of it in Alaska. That was my personal hell. But then, I
guess the point is that you had no answers, right? You didn't know
where I had been, what they did to me, how I got back, and you
had no idea what was wrong with me." She cleared her throat and
sighed.
"Could it be that we had gotten too close. . .to each other?" she
asked. It was a rhetorical question, but one that had just occurred
to her. "I mean, think about it. Before they shut us down, we were
close. But after, if I didn't see you once a day or at least talk to you
on the phone, I thought I would go mad. You were scaring the hell
out of me with your attitude and your actions, but I couldn't stand
the thought of not being near you. Any sane person would have
run screaming from you. And I don't think it was love at the time.
At least, it sure didn't feel like love. Not physical love, anyway.
What did they call it? In the Middle Ages? Courtly love. You
were on a quest and I was your soulmate on that quest. I hated the
fact that they took your quest away, but I also hated losing my
place in that quest.
"So we were bound in a common purpose, even though it was
obvious they didn't want us together. And as a result, they took
me, thinking that would end the matter. But then, why let me come
back at all? Maybe they felt they needed to change tactics? I don't
know. But I do know something. Nothing they have been able to
do so far has made me stop falling in love with you. And if they
don't want us together, then together is where I want us to be!
Because I refuse to let some secret society of wizened old men
control my life and how I live it, or who I spend it with, or who I
love. And I know you feel the same way, even though we haven't
talked about it. They would never let us 'live in peace', Fox,
regardless of whether we are together or apart. It doesn't work that
way. So I vote for staying together."
She sat there a moment and just looked at the man lying in front
of her. "But I don't know what _you_ want, Mulder." <Hasn't he
made that clear? a little inner voice asked. <He searched
everywhere for you, he tries to protect you constantly, but he
depends on you totally. Face it, Starbuck, he made his choice long
ago. She closed her eyes and let her tears carry her to sleep.

When she opened her eyes, Dana was in another room. It was
still a hospital room, but the decor was all different. There was
wallpaper, and a wooden chair rail. It was larger than the room
Mulder was in. There was a big, comfortable recliner sitting next to
the bed. It was then that she noticed _she_ was in the bed, not
Mulder. Her eyes were drawn to the window, where a high backed
wooden rocker was moving slowly, back and forth. The back of
the rocker was toward her and she couldn't see who was in it, but
she heard a soft murmur coming from it as it moved. Without
thinking, she got out of the bed and walked over to see who was in
the rocking chair.
"Hey, Momma," he said, smiling brightly at her. "Have a nice
nap?"
"Mulder, what are you doing?" she asked, confused and a little
dazed. <You're supposed to be on a ventilator, Mulder, not sitting
in a rocking chair! she wanted to say to him, but the bundle of
blankets in his arms caught her attention and stopped her further
inquiries.
"Well, my old texts called it "paternal bonding", but that sure
doesn't seem to fit," he cooed at the tiny little face staring up at
him. "I think I'd have to classify it as 'falling in love' with another
woman." He broke his gaze with the little blue-eyed infant and
looked up at Dana. "But we've had a long talk while you were
asleep, and she's agreed to share me with you. I told her how
unhealthy 'electra complexes' are and she doesn't want to get into
anything like that."
He stood up, slowly, holding the baby close and walked over to
the plastic hospital bassinet by the foot of the bed. "OK, pumpkin.
Daddy wants to talk to Mommy about you for a while. You work
on newborn baby stuff, like chewing on your fist and sleeping."
The infant seemed perfectly content to do just that.
Turning, he pulled Dana into his arms. "Do you know how
happy you've made me?" he whispered in her ear and he kissed her
on the forehead. "I love you so much, Dana. Thank you." When
she pulled back, she could see tears glistening in his eyes. "But it
would make me a lot happier if we could decide on a name. I really
don't like 'Baby Girl Mulder'--it does _not_ sound like a future
Chief Justice of the Supreme Court," he added with a devilish grin.
"How about. . .?"
******

Every Mother Dreams
part Five
Disclaimer in part one

A hand on her shoulder broke her out of the dream. "Dana,
sweetheart, Assistant Director Skinner is out in the waiting room.
Do you want to go talk with him? I'll stay with Fox while you're
gone," Maggie Scully assured her.
"Where's Mrs. Mulder?" Dana asked, wiping the sleep from her
eyes.
"Oh, she's here too," Maggie replied. "I did get her to lie down
a little while, but she wanted to get back. We found Mr. Skinner
when we got off the elevator. She's down there with him now."
Maggie regarded her daughter. "You were smiling in your sleep,
sweetheart. Were you having a good dream?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah, mom. A really good dream. Now I just have to make
sure it comes true," Dana said cryptically, and went out to see her
boss.

Ann Mulder read through the medical records. "I'm surprised
you were able to get hold of these, Director. I was sure there
would have been some move to make sure they never saw the light
of day," she mused, grimly.
"Do you think they're authentic?" he asked, trying to gauge her
reaction from behind his wire rimmed glasses.
"I'm not a doctor, but I recognize my husband's signature. If
they were fabrications, they had to have been done before last
April. Judging from the paper, the fading of the ink, I'd have to say
they came from that time." She shook her head and handed the file
back to him. "But I still can't tell you what it all means. I don't
know that it helps, right now."
"Well, I'm hoping Agent Scully will be able to decipher the
medical language. If they can at least give us a clue. . ."
"You have a clue?" Dana asked, anxiously moving into the
waiting room.
"We could have," Skinner answered truthfully. "Agent Scully,
can you make heads or tails out of this?" He handed the file over to
her and watched her closely as she sat down and read through
them.
Without looking up, she addressed him. "Where did you get
these?" she asked.
"Unofficial channels," he said and she looked up and grinned at
him. "Actually, it was sort of a 'swap meet'. I'm keeping something
of theirs quiet and they're willing to help us out here. It would
appear that this was not deliberate. Or at least, the final result was
not necessarily one we might be led to suspect." He was being as
vague as he could, in deference to Mulder's mother, but Dana knew
exactly what he was referring to. They didn't want Mulder dead.
There was something else going on here, and they wanted to ensure
that everything went according to plan.
"The usual source gave you these?" she asked, incredulous. She
had no idea Mr. X would have devulged this kind of information, at
least not willingly.
"Does it really matter who I got it from, Scully. If it helps, that's
all that matters, not the source. And I don't think you'd believe me
if I told you where I got them. Let's not dwell on the minutiae and
concentrate on putting the information to good use. That is, if you
think it's useful, in any way."
Dana nodded, deciding it was a topic he didn't want her to
pursue. She went back to reading the medical files. It was almost
exactly the same as what was currently happening. The onset was
fast, the white blood count almost identical. The lab results were
not nearly as sophisticated, but she could tell that the similarities
were such that whatever Mulder had been afflicted with as a small
boy, he was having a recurrence now.
The notes in the margin caught her attention. "Removal of
support recommended, but refused per parent/pat." <So Mulder's
father cared about him once, apparently, Dana pondered. Then
she caught herself. That was unfair. Of course William Mulder
loved his son. How could he not? She let her mind drift to what a
four year old Fox Mulder would look like. Adorable, that was the
only way to describe him. <Will our little ones be so adorable?
she wondered. <How could they not? She shook the thought
from her mind and went back to reading the report.
After a few minutes reading she looked up. "Well, I hate to say
this, but it appears that we are proceeding the same way as they did
thirty years ago. The doctors at the time, a Dr. Gleason, it appears
and some residents, treated the symptoms. In a few days, Fox just.
. .he just got better." She sighed and rubbed her hand over her
eyes. "So we just have to keep him on life supports, regardless of
the directives of his living will, and hope for the best," she
concluded.
"Will that be a problem?" Ann asked, quietly. Dana had almost
forgotten the older woman was in the room.
"It shouldn't be," Dana gave her an assuring smile. "I'm the
executor, I won't execute the provisions unless I feel it's necessary.
You're his mother, you concur, so I don't think the hospital can or
would refuse treatment. The living will is only to guide the family
as to the wishes of the individual if the situation is deemed hopeless.
That isn't the case here, and we have these files to give us a leg to
stand on. A wobbly leg, perhaps, but I've seen decisions made on
much less support."
"I've seen you two base whole conclusion on less," Skinner
added wryly.
Dana smiled at the joke. "Well, this is good news. I'll go take
these to Dr. Fields, he might want to consider the findings as he
decides on treatment." She got up and started to walk away, but
turned back to Skinner. "I don't know how you managed to get
these, but I want you to know. . ."
"Say no more, Agent Scully. It was the least I could do,"
Skinner cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I've got a flight back
to DC in an hour. I expect to hear of Agent Mulder's progress."
He shook Ann's hand. "You're son is a fine agent, Mrs. Mulder.
One of the best I've had the pleasure to serve with. I'm confident
that his partner here will make certain that he is well cared for and
makes a full recovery. God knows, she's probably an expert at that
by now." He glanced over at Scully with more than a touch of
admiration. "They make a good team." He added.
"Thank you, Director Skinner. I appreciate all the help you've
given my son," Ann said, shaking his hand.
"I don't know if he would always consider it 'help'," Skinner
laughed. "Scully, I'll talk to you in the morning." He left them and
walked purposefully to the elevators.
Dana stood at the doorway to the waiting area. "Mrs. Mulder,
would you like to come with me to see Dr. Fields?"
"No, Dana, I think I'm going to take a minute to get a bite to
eat. Your mother has been such a dear. I was so anxious to get
back here that I wouldn't let her stop for lunch. You might want to
send her down after you're finished with Dr. Fields." Dana nodded
and left.

Ann Mulder was not really that hungry, she just wanted a few
moments to think. It was wonderful that Assistant Director Skinner
had managed to 'obtain' the medical records from Fox's first illness,
but it brought back all the painful memories of that time. Bill had
been so frantic when he had arrived at the hospital. He had spent
hours on the phone. She couldn't understand why he could appear
so concerned about their son, and yet spend so much of his time
calling into work. It made no sense. Then, she had been in the hall,
looking for him, when he had been making a call. What she
overheard scared her to the bone. She never told anyone, but from
that moment on, she could never look at her husband in the same
way.
The chair across the table from her squeaked on the floor as it
was pulled back. Ann looked up, expecting to see Maggie Scully.
She startled as she recognized the man in front of her.
"Hello, Ann," he said, with the same distinct English accent he
had spoken with thirty years before.
"What are you doing here," she demanded.
"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" he asked, and
proceeded to sit down at the table.
"All right. What do you want, then?" Ann continued.
"I want to help you, Ann. I think you know, I've always had
your best interests at heart."
"Don't bother, I've had more than enough time to learn who are
my friends and who are my enemies. I know exactly where you fit
in those categories," she growled. She hated this man and she
wanted him to know it.
"Then let me give you some advice, if not my friendship. Let
him go, Ann. None of this would have happened if you had let him
go when he was a child. Think about it. What kind of life has he
had--guilt over his sister, loneliness because of his abilities. Shut
off from his colleagues, is that the kind of life you wanted for your
son? I think not. You wanted much more for him, Ann. But he
never really had a chance. Let him go. It's not fair to continue to
make him suffer for your own selfish needs."
"Get out of here," she seethed. "You know nothing of his life,
of his dreams. I'm his mother. . ."
"And the two of you have barely spoken in over a year. Come
now, Ann. You know as well as I do that this is not the end. They
will never let him alone, to live a normal life. William made a
number of decisions, many of them foolish. Unfortunately, the son
must pay for the sins of the father. But you could put a stop to it.
Now. If you only have the courage to do what you must, what is
really right, for him."
"If you don't leave now, I'll call security," she said evenly,
through clenched teeth.
At that moment, Maggie Scully entered the cafeteria and saw
Ann and the well manicured gentleman deep in discussion. She
hesitated at first, but Ann looked very angry, and Maggie made the
decision to go over and see what was going on.
"Ann, are you all right?" Maggie asked, ignoring the gentleman
seated at the table.
"Maggie. Yes, I'm fine. This man was just asking directions to
the Vineyard," she lied. "But I think you won't be that impressed
with the accommodations. We are hardly to be compared with the
French Riveria." She stood up, but not without giving the
gentleman a withering look. "Good day," she said and moved off,
taking Maggie by the elbow and steering her to the food line.
Maggie couldn't help but notice that Ann was shaking as they
returned to their seats. "Ann, are you sure you're OK?" Maggie
asked.
"Yes, fine," she replied quickly. <A little too quickly, Maggie
thought. <I can only hope it's not like this on holidays. But then,
you don't really get to pick your in-laws, now do you?

10:30pm

Dana put down the book she was reading, to check the monitors
one more time. Both mothers had finally been convinced to go
back to the motel, but they had made sure that Dana understood
they would relieve her first thing in the morning. Then, they
assured her, she would be expected to get some rest of her own.
She agreed, figuring she could always back out of the agreement in
the morning.
She reached over and took Mulder's hand. It was still very
warm. They had put a cooling blanket over him, and were trying to
bring his fever down in every way possible. His lungs were no
clearer, but the ventilator was doing all his breathing for him. She
made a point not to look at the EEG. Watching the needle slide on
the paper so close to the bottom of the page only served to make
her nervous. She had spent almost 15 minutes of the previous hour
staring at that damn needle and wishing it to move. <So much for
your theory that I have psychic powers, Mulder, she mused.
Before she had left for the motel, Dana's mother had mentioned
the man who had been talking to Mrs. Mulder in the cafeteria. For
some reason, the description reminded her of someone. She had
been wracking her brain, trying to remember who it was. It was
obvious that the encounter had upset Ann greatly. Dana had been
more hopeful, now that the medical records from before had been
handed over. But even with the good news, Mrs. Mulder had been
distraught and said little until she had teamed up with Dana's
mother to make arrangements for the morning. It had been odd.
"Well, Mulder, I guess you have to get your 'Spooky' genes
from somewhere," Dana grinned. She reached over and took his
hand, stroking his long fingers. "Are you having good dreams,
love? I hope so. I know I said some horrible things last night, and
I'm really sorry. I tried to tell you that, but you were unconscious
at the time. You're unconscious now, but, well, I remember some
of what you said to me when I was in a coma, so maybe. . ."
She leaned over, so that she was almost touching his ear.
"Mulder, I have to tell you something. You have to get better. I
need you, sweetheart. My life was really boring before I met you.
A little safer, perhaps, but I never wanted 'safe'. I don't want to
think about life without you. And you've had this before, this fever
or whatever, and you got better. So I expect you to do that. Oh,
and there is one more thing. Something we hadn't really counted
on. We, well, we have a surprise coming. A baby. Now, I know
we haven't really discussed it, but, well, I've always thought you
would make a wonderful father. And I guess we're going to get to
see if I'm right. I know this is sudden, and well, it was a surprise to
me, too. But Fox, I think we love each other enough, I think we
can face this together. I just love you so much. Please come back
to me. Come back to us. OK?" she whispered softly to him.

<<Please come back to me. He heard it on a breeze that blew
past him in the darkness. <<Come back to us. Us? Where did
that come from? Mulder tried very hard to remember, but things
were getting so jumbled. He was getting tired and cold and it was
really getting lonely sitting there by the Tidal Basin. When he
thought hard, he could remember that Melissa had been there, for a
short while. What was it that she had said? Something about
fighting? But there was no one here to fight! He was alone. So
very much alone. That's why it was so sweet to hear Dana's voice.
He wanted to get up and go to where she was, but he had no idea
how to get there.
Beyond the Jefferson Memorial, there was nothing. Not even
the starfield that he could vaguely remember from the last time he
had been in this predicament. Sometimes, he could catch other
sounds on the wind. Snatches of conversations. He thought he had
heard his father. "I'm not going to go looking for him, right now,"
he mumbled to himself. He knew he was between two worlds, that
was the only part that made sense. But how was he going to get
home? How could he get back to Dana, and get warm and. . .safe?
Yeah, that was it, safe. She made him feel safe. Pretty
embarrassing for a 6' 1", 34 year old FBI agent to admit that a tiny
little 5'2", 30 year old woman made him feel safe. <Hey, she's FBI,
too! an inner voice yelled at him and he smiled. Riiiight! She
made him feel safe because she usually scored better than he did on
the firing range. Real rational. Real logical. So why wasn't he in
love with Rambo?
He heard it again. <<Combacktome The words were being
slurred by the wind and the sound of the tree branches. He closed
his eyes and concentrated on the sound. When he opened his eyes,
he could see her. She was on the other side of the Tidal Basin,
looking at him. He wanted to call to her, but he was too tired. All
he could do was sit and watch her and try to hear what she was
saying. <<I need you. . . He laughed. SHE needed HIM? That
was funny! When she was gone, his whole world had been
destroyed. When she returned, it was like somebody walked up to
him and gave him his life back. The thought that she might need
him was a foreign to him as a 'rational explanation'!
<<. . .you would make a wonderful father. Oh, yeah.
Melissa had said something about that. "I got her pregnant! Shit!
She doesn't want to be saddled with kids. She wants a career!
Some bang up career, though. 'Bureau pariah' just doesn't seem
like a great career move. Never seen it once mentioned in top 100
careers for women in Cosmo."
"Maybe if I were to just let go. . ." the thought sort of popped
into his mind, totally unbidden. What would she do if he didn't
come back? If he just let go, didn't try and get back, and crossed
over to the 'other' side? She probably wouldn't keep the baby.
They had never talked about it, but he knew she was raised
Catholic. Even if she didn't abort, she could put it up for adoption.
Then she'd only be inconvenienced for a couple of months. She
could spring back, get on the right track. Without him holding her
back, she would shoot up so far and so fast that she more than
likely _would_ end up Director one day. A black and white image
flashed in his mind. 'It's a Wonderful Life', a small, cramped
apartment, a well worn, but incredibly comfortable old sofa, sharing
a blanket, a gentle first kiss that grew in intensity until the passion
all but consumed them both. . .
"No," he said out loud, shaking his head. "She'll keep the baby.
And if I don't come back, it <<she! will grow up without a
father. Just like I did," he mused quietly. "Well, now, we don't
have to repeat the same mistakes, do we?" he resolved. "I sure as
hell didn't have much of a role model, Dana, but I will try. I swear,
for your sake and for this baby, I'll try."

Rest Inn
3:30 am

The room was perfectly quiet, completely dark, and the bed was
really fairly comfortable. It was unfathomable that she couldn't
sleep. But try as she might, Ann Mulder had tossed and turned for
the last four hours. She was pleased they had agreed to split the
rooms, otherwise she was certain she would have disturbed Dana's
mother, asleep in the next room.
The conversation from the cafeteria was replaying in her mind.
How she hated that man! He had been a friend, once, a long, long
time ago. When she was naive and believed that her government
was capable of only doing what was in the best interests of it's
citizens. Back when she even believed that a father could never do
anything that would bring harm to his children. Back before her
entire world had crumbled and she found she could not protect her
children, not from anything or anyone. She was helpless. And the
man she had seen today had made sure she was painfully aware of
that.
<How dare he talk to me about my dreams for my children?
she allowed her mind to scream as she tossed again and tried to
punch out her frustrations into her pillow. <What could he possibly
know? To her, he was a destroyer, not capable of anything so
mundane as compassion. To him, everyone was a pawn, a piece in
the game. And when Bill had decided to play the same game, it
was she and the children who had lost. They had lost everything.
"Oh, Fox. I had wanted to do what was right. I really did," she
whispered into the air as the tears fell down her cheeks. The years
swept away and she saw the whole scene. The moment she had
walked out of the little hospital room and into the hallway, looking
for her husband, the father of her children, the man she adored and
discovered someone she never knew existed.
She didn't hear all of the conversation. She couldn't understand
the terms he used. But she could tell that he was angry and why.
They had somehow used Fox, her baby, her little munchkin, in
some experiment and that was what was killing him now. <<How
in God's name could they do that to a baby! He's only four years
old! she remembered wanting to scream at the man who shared
her bed. Then, in horror, she saw his face. The acceptance, the
way he simply nodded, like a 'good little soldier', and took every
word the person on the other end of the phone line said as gospel. .
.that froze her heart to a block of ice.
Later, when she confronted him, Bill Mulder denied everything.
She had misunderstood, he had patently told her. They weren't
even discussing Fox, they were discussing State Department
business. But his eyes betrayed him, as they always did when he
lied. This time, however, she acted like she accepted his
explanation. She had to, she didn't have a choice. Fox's fever had
broken at about the same time, he was getting better, it was all
over. She let herself believe that it was over and done with and
they would never be bothered again. She had to think of the
children. She couldn't survive with a four year old and a newborn if
she were all alone.
"If I had left him then, gone far away, I might have saved
Samantha," she murmured again, for the ten thousandth time. In
her mind, it was as much her own fault as her husband's. She had
stayed. She had let him choose between the children. It was her
fault.
And now, it was starting anew. Another generation, caught in a
web that should never have been constructed. If her own
suspicions were correct, Dana was pregnant with her son's child.
And the Consortium, as she had come to think of them, would
never allow the three of them, Dana, Fox and the child, to live in
peace. They had too much invested in the 'experiment'.
But if Fox was not part of the equation, it might end here. The
Consortium might never learn of the baby, Dana might even decide
not to carry it to term rather than raise it alone. And the horror
would end. They would be defeated, at least in this small way.
Maybe it would be the beginning of the final defeat.
But could she do that? Could she sacrifice her son and her
grandchild just to defeat these men? <Haven't I already sacrificed
my life already? All she knew for certain was that the decision
was hers and she had only until the morning to make it.
******

Here's the end. I'd love comments.

Vickie

Every Mother Dreams part six
Disclaimer in part one

7:45 am

There was a knock on the connecting room door and Ann
opened it wearily. Maggie Scully looked at her with concern. "Are
you all right, Ann? Do you want to try and get some more sleep?"
The gray haired woman shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I don't
think I could sleep. I just want to get to the hospital and. . ." she
made a great effort to control herself. "And see my son," she said
and turned to locate her purse.
Maggie Scully chewed on her lip. It didn't take her long to see
that something was amiss. Yes, this woman had a lot to be worried
about. Her son was gravely ill, the doctors were at a loss for an
answer to his illness. But they had received evidence that this was
identical to an illness he had suffered from as a child, one that he
recovered from and it had not affected his health in the least. This
woman looked like. . .
<Like I felt when I was making Melissa's funeral arrangements,
Maggie shuddered. The thought frightened Maggie to the bone.
Had Ann gotten some news that Maggie had not? Maybe the
hospital had called while Maggie was in the shower or so sound
asleep that she hadn't heard it ring in the next room. "Ann, what's
the matter? Did you hear something?" she asked anxiously.
"Is your daughter pregnant?" Ann leveled at Maggie. It was
almost an accusation, but not quite.
Maggie was taken back. "Ann, I think that's really none of . . ."
"Tell me, Maggie. Is she? It's very important that I know.
After all, it is Fox's child, isn't it?" she pointed out.
Maggie took a deep breath. "Would it upset you if she was?"
Maggie asked back. She hardly knew this woman, but what she did
know had never impressed her. Not once had she ever visited her
son in the hospital. Not once had he ever mentioned visiting her at
holidays. Most holidays, Maggie had to beg him to come to her
home, just so the poor guy wouldn't be alone. And now, she
seemed more than a little upset that her son might be on the verge
of becoming a father. <What the hell business is it of yours?
Maggie wanted to scream.
"It really makes no difference if I would be upset or not. That's
not the point. I can only assume that I'm correct, since you won't
tell me. If you're right, and they've only been sleeping together
since Christmas, at least she's not very far along." She turned and
retrieved her coat from the chair.
That was more than Maggie could take. She reached out and
grabbed Ann's sleeve. "What is that supposed to mean?" she
demanded angrily. It took a lot to make Maggie Scully lose her
temper, but that line had just been crossed. "Look, your son is 34
years old. By your own admission, you have had very little to do
with him for a long time. My daughter is in love with Fox and Fox
is in love with her. I know. I've been around them the past 3 years,
I've seen their devotion to each other. Now, this is a difficult time
for you, I understand that. But it's difficult for me, too. I love your
son, Ann, whether you know it or not. And my daughter loves him
very much. We are all praying that he gets better, soon. I think the
whole matter of this baby will be resolved the minute Fox is awake
and aware and he and Dana discuss it. The decision, ANY
decision, is theirs and theirs alone. And I would be willing to bet
my bottom dollar that you and I will be talking wedding plans
immediately after that decision is made. Unless, of course, you
don't want any involvement in that aspect of your son's life, either.
If that's the case. . ." she huffed a little and then calmed herself
down when she saw Ann's face turning a very pale white.
"I had hoped. . ."Ann was whispering quietly, as Maggie helped
her into a chair by the desk in the room.
Maggie quickly moved to get Ann a glass of water. Ann was
barely able to hold onto it, her hands were shaking so badly. She
looked up at Maggie with deepening sorrow.
"I really think this is something I have to discuss with Dana,
Maggie. I think I need to explain some things to her. I thought I
could make this decision on my own, but I can't. Besides," she said
quietly, "I don't think it's just my decision anymore." She took a
drink of the water and Maggie watched in amazement as the regal
dignity surfaced once again. <How does she do THAT? Maggie
wondered. Ann pulled on her coat and didn't even wait for Maggie
as she headed for the elevator.

Boston General Hospital
8:00 am

Dr. Fields entered the room and smiled faintly at Dana, who was
asleep. He really hadn't expected to find her anywhere else. It
amused him, a little, that she was keeping up the pretense of a
'working' relationship with the man lying in a coma in the bed
before him. He had been around a while, he knew how loved ones
were affected by serious illness. 'Partners' might stay a while, call
frequently for updates, might even stay the night. 'Loved ones'
never left. So far, she had all the ear-marks of a 'loved one'. He
suspected the pregnancy might be further evidence of that, but
refused to allow himself to dwell on that. It was obviously none of
his business.
What was his business was the welfare of his patient. It always
helped to have someone there, a presence, someone to keep the
patient 'attached' to life. He was completely confident that Dana
Scully was doing everything in her power to connect with Fox
Mulder, keeping him attached. Dr. Fields was grateful for that
added assistance in his patient's treatment. It often worked where
medication and surgeries failed.
She must have heard him moving about, for she opened her
eyes and yawned. "There's been no change," Dana said wearily.
"But then, if it runs the same course, that's to be expected," she
added hastily.
"He doesn't seem to be losing ground," Dr. Fields commented.
<Though he really doesn't have much ground he can afford to
lose, he thought, but kept that to himself. From the tired look on
this woman's face, she needed all the encouragement she could get.
<Besides, she's a doctor. She already knows that, he added to
himself. He busied himself with checking his patient's vitals and
recording the information on his chart. "I guess I'll just leave the
medication alone for now. It might not be helping, but it doesn't
seem to be hurting and we're managing to keep his basal temp
under 103 for now." He turned to Dana. "According to the old
records, we should expect a turning point in the next 24 hours." He
gave her a hard look. "You need your rest, you know," he said
pointedly.
"I think you're getting me confused with one of your patients,"
Dana said with a scowl.
"No, not at all, Agent Scully. I consider you a part of this team.
You're the one he's coming back to, and if you're sick or dead on
your feet, you sure aren't going to be much support for him when
he needs it," he said honestly. "I'm not 'shooing' you out. I just
want you to try and get some sleep, outside this room, if I can get
you to go all the 20 feet down the hall to the nurses lounge. He's
not going anywhere, I can assure you."
"I rest better if I'm here, with him," she said defiantly.
Dr. Fields sighed. "Are all FBI agents this stubborn, or is
because you went through medical school?"
Dana smiled in victory. "We're all stubborn." She leaned over
and took hold of Mulder's arm. "You should see *him* on a good
day," she added with a wry grin.
"I can just imagine. Tell you what, as soon as he comes around,
I'll consider that evac. I've got enough headaches around here
without fighting one, no *two* FBI agents. Is it a deal?"
Dana allowed herself a small laugh. "Deal."
When Dr. Fields left the room, she leaned over to Mulder's ear.
"Hear that, hotshot? All you have to do is open your eyes and we
get to go home. Better than Dorothy and the Ruby Slippers, ain't
it? OK, I'm giving you 24 hours. Then, I use the same tactics to
wake you up that I had to use in San Francisco last month. You
remember? The ice water? And don't think I'm kidding, either. I
shot you once, Mulder. Pouring ice water over you would be small
potatoes at this point," she threatened. Then she sat back in the
recliner a nurse had brought in for her, and fell asleep, holding his
hand.

Maggie and Ann hadn't said a word since the motel and Maggie
was seriously worried. She had no idea what was on the other
woman's mind, but she hoped it wasn't going to upset Dana. That
was the last thing her daughter needed--mother-in-law troubles
*before* the wedding. Dana needed love and support right now,
not some wigged out discussion of 'decisions' that Maggie could
only guess. But she held her tongue. It wasn't her business at this
point. If Ann upset Dana in anyway. . .THEN it would be Maggie's
business.
Dana woke up the minute the two women entered the room.
"Hi," she tried to smile, but missed. "No change. His temps down
a little, 102.6. That's the good news. No movement on the EEG or
change in his congestion. That's the bad news," she admitted, the
tired tone of her voice betraying how much it hurt to tell them that.
"Dana, could we go get some coffee? I'm sure your mother
won't mind staying with Fox for a few minutes," Ann said, shooting
a questioning look to Maggie. Maggie left her expression blank,
but her eyes flashed a warning. Ann chose not to heed it.
Dana looked reluctantly over at her partner. "I guess it would
be all right. Mom, if there's any change. . ."
"Don't you worry, sweetheart. I'll be down there in a heartbeat,"
Maggie assured her. She didn't like this arrangement, but her
daughter was a grown woman, and it wasn't Maggie's place to
interfere, yet.

"You wanted to talk to me, Mrs. Mulder?" Dana asked, after
they had gotten coffee and Dana had gotten a bagel and cream
cheese and some fruit salad.
"Yes, dear." Now that she was to this point, Ann was at a loss
for words. She looked at the young woman across from her,
perhaps for the very first time. She looked strong. And committed.
Two things Ann had never been accused of. "Agent Scully," she
began.
"Mrs. Mulder, you can call me Dana, if you like. I mean, my
mom has called your son Fox for a long time. I feel odd having you
call me 'Agent Scully'," Dana smiled at her.
"I don't know if you're going to be any more comfortable with
my calling you 'Dana', after what I have to say," she said
mysteriously. "I've thought it over, and I think we have an
obligation to Fox to follow his wishes."
"I'm not sure I understand what you're saying, Mrs. Mulder,"
Dana said quietly, with growing apprehension. <Surely, she's not
suggesting. . .
"I think it's time that we executed his last wishes, his living will,"
Ann said flatly.
"Mrs. Mulder, we have time," Dana tried to explain. "Dr. Fields
is convinced we'll start seeing improvement sometime in the next 24
hours and I agree with him."
"But he is meeting the criteria of the will, now, isn't he? And I
think it would be for the best to abide by that. We don't know for
certain if he ever will recover, now, do we?"
Dana's eyes grew wide and she gasped. "Mrs. Mulder! How
can you say that? You were there when Skinner gave me those
medical records. There's no reason to believe. . ."
Ann cut her off with a wave of her hand. "There is no reason to
believe that he will get better, either, Dana. Listen to me. There is
no brain activity. What happened 30 years ago, it was a. . .a
miracle. I'm grateful for that. But I don't think it's going to happen
again. I think it would be best for all concerned to do as my son
wishes and stop trying to prolong a life that is gone. I can't go on
like this. I've led this kind of life for over 20 years and I refuse to
go through it again."
There were tears in her eyes, Dana saw that, but her words were
like ice. "I can't believe you could be so heartless. . ." Dana
stammered. "My God, he's your son. . ."
"I know that!" Ann hissed. "Don't ever think I don't know that!
But that's the point, isn't it? He's my son, and I want what he
would want. You are thinking only of yourself, Dana. How much
you stand to lose." Ann caught her breath and forced herself to
calm down. "I have no doubt that you love him. . ."
"He never gave up on me," Dana hissed in return. "Never.
Even when my own family was 'ready to move on', " she all but spit
the last words out at the older woman. "I'm the one named on the
will, and I will NOT execute it. I have no reason to believe this
situation is hopeless. Now, if you'll excuse me. . ." she pushed
herself out of her chair so quickly that she almost lost her balance.
"They will never let you alone, you know," Ann said to Dana's
retreating back. Dana stopped in her tracks.
"What are you talking about?" she demanded.
"It's all a game to them. It always has been. They played it so
well during the war, and they never lost the taste for it. No matter
that the enemy became their own people, it's in their blood. Like a
dog that's been bred to be mean, or an animal in the jungle who
thinks only of the next meal. And you, my dear, and my son, are
playing right into their hands. I should know. I did it myself,
before you were even born." Ann hadn't meant to get into this
topic, but now that she was there, she couldn't stop herself. She
stood up and when over to Dana, putting her hands on the younger
woman's shoulders.
"I know how much you love him. As much as I loved my
husband, once. But Dana, if he lives, they win. They won't give
up. They won't leave you alone, especially with a 'another
generation' to experiment on. You are letting them have their way.
Wouldn't it be best to end this now, here? For your own good. I'm
thinking of you, too, you know. Get out now, while you can.
Don't burden yourself with this child. There will be others, with
some man who won't be the source of so much heartache. Believe
me, if I could do it over again, I would do things much differently."
Even through the horror of the words, Dana finally understood
what the woman was talking about. "This illness. There's more to
it than you're telling me. Tell me! Tell me all of it, now!" she
demanded, taking Ann by the arms and shaking the older woman.
"I don't know any of the details, Dana," Ann said sadly. "I can't
give you any answers. I just know that you will never be safe, they
will never leave you alone." She couldn't hold back the tears any
longer.
"How can such an intelligent man come from such foolish
stock?" Dana spit out. "Do you think we both don't know this?
Don't you think we've thought about it? They threw us together,
then they tore us apart. They took me and. . ." her words caught in
her throat, "and did things I still don't know about. And now, it's
apparent that they want Fox dead, or they never would have sent
you here," she accused. Ann looked as shocked as she would have
if Dana had slapped her.
"I'm very sorry for the way your life has gone, Mrs. Mulder,"
Dana said softly. "But I am not you. And I have no intention of
letting them get their way. It's just that I understand their plans a
little better than you do, and I won't play into them. If you can't
stand any further 'heartache', then don't worry. We won't bother
you. You can live your life in peace. Just walk through that door
and don't give us a second thought. Just pretend we're dead, just
like you've convinced yourself that Samantha is dead. I'm sure it
will be much easier the second time." This time, when Dana turned
to walk away, Ann let her. She sat down at the cafeteria chair, laid
her head in her arms, and sobbed.

Maggie had been watching each monitor in succession, so she
missed the first tiny movements on the EEG. When her eyes finally
fell on the lines of white and green barred paper again, there was no
doubt that activity was taking place. An even more telling piece of
evidence, however, was Fox Mulder himself. He was struggling
against the ventilator, which was set to control his breathing. In a
panic, Maggie hit the nurse call button with all her might and ran
into the hall a split second later. The nurse was at the desk, and
seeing the older woman in such a state of anxiety, she took off in a
dead run for the room, even before she had a chance to note the
change in the EEG for herself on her own monitor.
Dana stormed off the elevators, still trying to calm herself down.
She was almost bowled over by Dr. Fields, who had just been
paged to Mulder's room. Dana took off after him, running for all
she was worth. They skidded to a stop at the door within an instant
of each other. She grabbed his sleeve and shouted. "What is it?
What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, Agent Scully! I think we just turned that
corner!" He grabbed her hand and all but dragged her into the
room behind him.
The nurse had already adjusted the ventilator, so that Mulder
now controlled his own breathing. His eyes were still closed, but it
was obvious that he was semi-conscious, by the small movements
he was making. Dana looked around the room and found Maggie
standing in the corner, crying softly, but with a giant smile pasted
on her face.
After checking over his patient, Dr. Fields turned to Dana.
"Well, his fever broke. It's just as the old records reported. His
lungs are still congested, but he seems capable of breathing on his
own. I want to keep him on the vent for a little while longer. He
still doesn't have much strength and I sure don't want to waste what
he has on anything as mundane as breathing," he added with a small
laugh. "We'll keep an eye on him for now. Good work, Dr.
Scully," Dr. Fields said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "Now, it's
up to you. Let us know when he's awake. What hospital do you
plan on inflicting, I mean taking him to, if I might ask?"
"Well, it's been a while since he's been to GWU. They might
have forgotten about the last time by now. Let's take him there,"
she joked in return, the twinkle back in her eyes.
This time, Dr. Fields allowed himself a full laugh. "Good
enough. I'll start making arrangements." He left the room, still
with a euphoric chuckle.
Dana sat down in the reclining chair, holding his hand and
talking softly to him. She didn't even notice Maggie walk up beside
her.
"Where's Ann?" Maggie asked.
Dana flinched at the sound of the name. "If she's still here, I
would suspect she's in the cafeteria. Waiting to see when she can
make funeral arrangements," she added, acidly.
"I better go find her," Maggie said and turned to go.
"Mom, she doesn't deserve to know! Besides, she really doesn't
care," Dana growled.
"Dana, he is still her son. She really does care, she just doesn't
know how to show it. It's just been too long for her," Maggie said,
not believing the hate she was sensing from her daughter.
"Suit yourself, mom. But I don't want her to come up here.
When he wakes up, I only want people who love him around him,
understand?" Dana took a deep breath, clearing her thoughts of
Mulder's mother as much as she could, and turned her attention
back to him.

4:35 pm

Relief and exhaustion had forced her to close her eyes. The long
fingers, stroking her hand, encouraged her to open them. She
looked up and into the hazel eyes, regarding her sleepily. He
swallowed, and glanced over to the glass of water on the tray table
by the bed. She smiled, reached for the glass and gave him a drink.
"Better?" she asked, still smiling.
He nodded. "I like it better when we wake up in the *same*
bed, though," he rasped.
"So do I," she replied. "I should shoot you again, just for all the
worry you've caused in the last two days, you know," she teased.
He sighed. "What did I do this time?" he asked.
"We haven't quite pinned it down. High fever, pulmonary
congestion, coma. . ." she didn't like talking about it with him.
"Sounds like something I had when I was a little kid," he mused.
He was tiring out already, she could tell. He closed his eyes for a
moment and she thought she would have to wait a while longer to
talk to him. He surprised her by opening his eyes. "So, how are
YOU feeling?" he asked.
"Fine," she answered, a bit quickly. He narrowed his gaze.
"OK, Scully, now tell me the truth. How are you feeling?" he
asked again.
"Maybe we should wait to talk about me," she started. She had
been so busy just waiting for him to wake up, she hadn't bothered
to figure out how she was going to give him the 'big news'.
Suddenly, she felt a very bad case of 'cold feet' coming on.
"OK, I'll tell you, since you won't tell me. You're tired, you're
emotionally drained, you're worried, and you're pregnant." He
looked at her calmly. "Does that cover everything?"
Her mouth gaped open. "Mulder, how did you. . ."
He waved her off with a self satisfied smile. "You wouldn't
believe me. Then again, maybe you would, but I'm too tired and
happy to explain right now. I do have one request, well maybe
two."
She swallowed hard. "And they are?. . ."
"One, will you marry me? And two, can we name our daughter
Margaret, after your mom?" He didn't wait for an answer to either
question, he closed his eyes again. She watched him as he started
to drift back to sleep. "I love you so much, Dana," he muttered
softly, just loud enough for her to hear.
"I love you, too, Fox," she whispered tenderly in his ear. She
knew this was far from over. They still had a lot to deal with, not
the least of which was the Bureau and it's policies. But somehow,
knowing that he still loved her, and was happy, that was all that
matter at the moment.

the end.

Part two in Homeward Bound, coming soon to a computer screen
near you.