Mulder sets out to find out just what CGB Spender wants with him and why William is so special.
"Just where, exactly, are we going?"
Mulder never took his eyes off the woman seated next to him in the back of the black sedan that had picked him up in front of the apartment less than an hour ago. She seemed
much colder today, more in control. An emotionless automaton. The kind of person Mulder could see working for the Devil. Last night, when she had been telling him about his son and the other children, she had seemed much more human.
"I can't tell you that, Mr. Mulder," Susan said without looking at him. "If he wants you to know, he'll tell you."
Mulder was confused by that statement. He glanced out the window of the swiftly moving vehicle, then looked at the driver, meeting the emotionless eyes of the human robot in the rearview mirror. He looked at Dr. Donahue again. "What? You gonna blindfold me or something?"
"Eventually," the dark-haired woman said softly.
Was that regret he heard in her voice? Which was the real Susan Donahue? The mother concerned for her son and the other children? Or the woman who acted as one of the minions of Cancer Man? He tried to probe her mind, but she suddenly turned toward him, her eyes flashing.
"Stop!" she exclaimed.
Mulder drew back, both mentally and physically.
Donahue lowered her eyes, her face turning pink. "I'm sorry," she said. "I've learned to recognize telepathic probes. I'm not comfortable with them."
Mulder sat silent for a moment, then asked, "Your son?"
She nodded, but kept her eyes on her hands, which lay folded in her lap. "Yes. And..."
"And?" Mulder encouraged her. She was afraid of something. He didn't have to be a telepath to see that. "I thought you weren't in any danger. He knows I'm coming, doesn't he?"
She sighed. "Yes. Of course, he does." She looked at him again, and her gaze was no longer cool and emotionless. "But they don't. I don't know how they'll react."
"You told Scully that they're afraid of me," Mulder noted. "Isn't that right?"
She swallowed and nodded. "They are. And that's the problem. You are a threat to them. They would like nothing more than to destroy you."
"Why don't they?"
"They understand martyrdom, Mr. Mulder. Spender has made sure of that."
Mulder snorted. "Me? A martyr? Never in my wildest dreams."
"You don't even know the extent of the possibilities," Donahue whispered, casting a covert glance toward the driver. "If you knew..."
"Knew what?" Mulder whispered back, feeling his trepidation grow even more.
Donahue shook her head. She reached into the bag at her feet and pulled out a black handkerchief. "It's time to blindfold you, Mr. Mulder."
Instinctively, Mulder pulled back. He really didn't like being blind.
Holding the cloth up, she looked him in the eye. "Please. It's only a precaution. If the meeting goes well, you needn't wear it on the way home." Her gaze became intent. "Trust me. Please."
He didn't want to. But his instincts told him this meeting was important. That it was to determine his future. And his son's future, as well.
Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and allowed the woman to lay the folded cloth over his eyes and tie it behind his head. Then, he leaned back and settled in for the ride.
He must have dozed, because Donahue's voice was telling him they had arrived and he felt as if only minutes had passed. He wasn't surprised that he had; he hadn't gotten much sleep last night. And he had been very active. He felt the corners of his mouth twitch. Very.
He felt Donahue exit the vehicle and knew that the driver had also gotten out. He reached over to his right and felt around for the handle of the door. He had just gotten a hold
of it when it moved under his hand and the door opened. "Please step out, Mr. Mulder," a man's voice told him. He didn't recognize it, but he didn't think it belonged to the driver; this man's presence wasn't the same. In fact, this man's presence wasn't human. 'Hey, I'm getting good at this,' he thought wryly.
He carefully got out of the car and stood, waiting. He felt the man reach behind him, and the loose knot at the back of his head came undone. The bright sunlight he was suddenly
exposed to caused him to squint, and he didn't see the man in front of him clearly. He blinked, chasing away the tears that had formed in response to the light, and looked close.
He recognized the man standing before him immediately, though they had never met before.
"Ray Hoese."
The man... only Mulder knew it wasn't a man... smirked at him. "Come," he said, and he turned away. Mulder followed, looking over at Donahue, who was watching the replicant with a combination of fear and hatred. He looked at Hoese's back. Was this who could read her mind? he wondered. Could they be telepaths, too? Mulder sent out a mental question toward the thing in front of him, but got no feeling back. No emotion. Nothing. Odd. Even when Scully was blocking him, and when Donahue had blocked him earlier, he was still able to feel something. But with this man there was nothing.
But there was something. A presence on the other side of the door that felt very familiar. His heart began beating faster. Adrenaline rush. As if he was preparing himself for battle. He followed Hoese into the building, a modest cabin sitting in a golden forest.
His eyes adjusted to the dark of the room easily since they had never really had a chance to adjust to the sun. He swept his gaze from one side of the room to the other, quickly
taking in the number of people in the room as well as possible escape routes and weapons. Donahue passed him and headed for the far right side of the room, where a little man with wire-framed glasses stood, hands folded behind his back. He had the air of a doctor. In the center of the room, straight ahead of him, stood Billy Miles. Hoese walked over to his fellow replicant and stood next to him, turning to face Mulder. Their stiff stance gave them the appearance of soldiers, which is what Mulder supposed they were.
He looked to his left and saw the man he had come to see. Only what he saw shocked him. CGB Spender was a frail looking old man in a wheelchair. The blonde Greta stood next to him, one hand on the back of the chair. Mulder took a couple of steps in the old man's direction, eyeing him carefully. Was it an act? It sure didn't look like it. Cancer Man was falling apart: wrinkles covered so much of his face, Mulder could hardly see his eyes. A tremor in his right hand seemed completely uncontrollable, and he appeared to be nothing but skin and bones underneath the flannel robe that covered him from neck to toe. This had to be a trick. There was no way a man in this condition could be controlling the aliens.
*Don't let appearances fool you, Fox.*
Mulder was so startled by the words in his head that he jumped. With a frown, he leaned in closer to the old man.
*Why are you so surprised, Fox? Did you really think that, with my body falling apart, my mind would be going, too?*
*How?* Mulder stood straight and looked about the room. *Can they...?*
*No.* Spender shook his head slightly. *They aren't gifted like we are. And of course, the only reason I can is because of you.* A smile became apparent through the creases in his face. *You are the reason I am where I am, Fox. And I am going to make sure they know that.*
*Why?* Mulder asked.
*Because, I am dying.* Spender closed his eyes. *And after I go, I want you to take my place.*
*****
Scully reached down to pick up the soft latex toy her son had thrown across the room earlier in the day and stifled another yawn. Standing straight, she glanced at Skinner, who
sat reading on the sofa, hoping he hadn't noticed. The last thing she needed was to be asked why she was so tired. She had never been able to lie to her former boss; not very well, anyway.
Will had finally gone down for his afternoon nap only a few minutes earlier, and she was seriously contemplating taking one as well. It was Sunday. The laundry was done, as were the dishes from both breakfast and lunch. And Skinner was here to keep an eye on things. She could tell him she, too, wanted to catch up on some reading in her bedroom and pass
out on the bed instead. It wouldn't be a lie if she really did attempt to read first.
Biting her lower lip to keep from smiling at her thoughts, Scully walked over to her front window. Though he seemed preoccupied with his novel, she knew the AD was more than aware of his surroundings; she had long ago learned to never underestimate the man. Especially after the incidents that lead up to Will's birth those short six months ago. She
glanced at him again from her new position. He hadn't been the only one changed by the events of those days. While he had become more relaxed around her and Mulder, she had heard that he had become even more of a hard-ass at work...if that were possible. He had a tendency to rage at the agents under his command for the smallest of infractions. She wasn't sure what had led to the change, but she told Mulder that she suspected it had something to do with Krycek and the way the younger man had died. Mulder disagreed. He thought all Skinner needed was to get laid. Hey! It had worked for him, hadn't it?
Maybe Mulder was right, but God knew the man was never going to find any romance when he spent all of his free time guarding her and her family.
She looked out the window and saw the familiar van parked on the curb. Mulder had called the Gunmen and told him he was visiting 'an old friend' and that, though Skinner was spending the day with Scully and his Godson, Mulder wanted them to keep an eye on things as well. Scully knew that he believed in the importance of meeting with Cancer Man, but he wasn't about to discount the possibility of a set-up. Nobody was about to lure him out of town just so they could grab his son.
Scully leaned her head against the window frame and sighed. She closed her eyes and relaxed, sending out 'feelers' with her mind, something she had only just learned to do early that morning. He was out there. She could feel him. Where, she had no clue, but the connection they had established the night before was still there, though it was very weak. She could not read his thoughts, or even his emotions, but the simple fact that she could feel his living presence was enough to give her comfort. She wondered how far this tie could be stretched. And she regretted not opening herself up to it long before last night. Oh, what time they had wasted. She snorted softly. What time they were wasting even now.
"You okay?"
Scully jumped slightly at Skinner's question. Opening her eyes, she turned to find that he had left his book to join her at the window. He stood only a few feet behind her. Sure, she could feel Mulder's presence from who knew how many miles, but she hadn't noticed someone right next to her. Obviously, she wasn't the telepath of the family. "I'm fine," she said to Skinner softly.
"You're worried." It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact.
Scully tilted her head. "Oh, so now you're psychic?"
Skinner smirked at her and shook his head. "No. But, I have observed you and Mulder worrying about each other for several years now. I'm very familiar with the 'I'm-fine-on-the-outside-but-falling-apart-on-the-inside' expression."
Scully allowed herself a small smile. "Well, if you knew where he was, you'd be worried, too."
The former Marine folded his arms and cocked his head at her. "I assume it's something to do with the Hoese case," he said. "Something Mulder doesn't want Doggett or Reyes to
know about. Though why he'd want to keep them in the dark, I don't know."
Scully sighed. "Or you, right?"
"I'll admit, I'd prefer to know the whole story, yes." He sighed. "But I trust Mulder. And I trust you. You'll tell me when you feel I need to know."
Scully felt her eyes widen. "Wow. I think I like you better when you aren't our boss."
Skinner laughed.
With a smile of her own, Scully glanced out the window. What she saw made her pause, and she moved closer to the glass, her smile fading. Skinner noticed her expression and also leaned in to look outside. A woman was standing next to the Gunmen's van talking to someone inside. A familiar woman.
"Is that...?" Skinner left the question open, disbelief and growing anger in his voice.
"I think so," Scully responded. Quickly, she spun away from the window and headed for the door.
"Scully!"
"Stay with Will," she told him, easily avoiding Skinner as he reached out to stop her. She reached the door and turned to look at him. "Please?"
Skinner nodded. "Just be careful. You know who she associated with in the past."
She nodded and left the apartment. Yes, she did indeed know who Marita Covarrubias' loyalties had been to once upon a time. Which was why Scully wanted to talk to her now.
*****
*It's a wonderful plan,* Spender was saying to Mulder in his head. *Unless they discover the truth, of course.*
They had been left alone by the others several minutes ago, but Spender was still communicating telepathically. It was probably easier for him than talking. And it was definitely safer.
Maybe.
*Those things out there can't hear us, huh?* he asked.
*The replicants cannot hear us, no. But the others can if we want them to.*
*Others? You mean the Grays?*
Spender nodded. *You will have to learn to guard your thoughts around them carefully. They can't force their way into your head if you put up protective barriers, just as you can't get inside theirs if they don't want you to. But you have to learn how to keep them out.* He tilted his head. *Talking, like we are right now, is very different than simply reading emotions and such. You have the ability to do that with anyone, whether they want you to or not.*
Mulder thought of Scully and how he had been able to clearly sense her emotions for the last several months, but until last night had not been able to decipher why she felt the way she did.
*Of course,* Spender continued, *most people are unaware that you are trying to read them and won't even know you are there in their mind.*
Scully had known.
*That's because you two are so very close emotionally.*
Mulder glared at the old man. *Stop it.*
Spender simply smiled. *Make me.* He shook his head ruefully. *Fox, if you are to take my place, you will need to protect your mind from invasion. Otherwise, they will read you like a book, and you will be able to do nothing to protect this precious Earth of yours from an invasion of another kind.*
*I'm not taking your place.* If he had been speaking, Mulder's voice would have sounded like a growl.
*Ah, Fox. You are the only one who can. Don't you see?*
Mulder stood from the chair he had been sitting in and started to pace the room. *No. I don't see.*
*No one believed that the vaccine would cause your DNA to mutate. No one thought that it would allow you to become more like them. And when it did, it started to kill you. Had we been able to foresee that, we still would not have been able to prevent it. But, they could.* Spender closed his eyes as if he was preparing to fall asleep, but his mind was still active and intent on Mulder's. *They cured you. They kept you alive. Of course, they wanted you to become like Billy Miles and Ray Hoese. But, you didn't. You lived. And you will continue to live for a long, long time. The only reason I can do what I can is because--*
*Because you cut open my head and took a part of it for yourself!*
Spender sighed. *Yes. But unlike you, I haven't been cured. I am still dying. And you are the only one who can keep my lie alive.* He paused. *And if my lie dies, Scully's nightmare will become reality.*
Mulder's whole body felt like ice. How could he know of her dream? Not even Mulder had received a clear mental picture of it from her; she had had to describe it to him verbally.
Spender appeared to be waiting for a response, so Mulder knew his attempt to keep the man from his private thoughts was working. But he also knew the old man felt his anger.
"What do you know of her dream?" Mulder asked aloud, venom filling his voice.
Spender's eyes opened. *The aliens are watching you and your son. They know of it.*
*Are they controlling it?*
*No.* He smiled again. *Fox, you must know how special she is. Your son is the way he is not just because he is your son, but because he is hers. The tests done on her years ago, combined with the vaccine you gave her in Antarctica...they have made her special.* He shifted slightly in his chair. *When we discovered that the offspring of such subjects like Teresa Hoese and Billy Miles were as special as they were, I knew that a child of Dana's
would be even more so. But I also knew she had been left barren by those very tests.*
*So you did something to her, didn't you?* Mulder felt as if his blood was beginning to boil. *Last year, when you made her lie to me and took her away. You did something to her
that allowed her to get pregnant.*
Spender began to laugh, and the sound was harsh. *Oh, Fox. You overestimate me. She was right in her suspicions that I drugged her. But I only acquired blood from her, to ensure
she was healthy and wasn't somehow suffering from the same brain disorder you were at the time. It was wrong to keep that from her, by the way. It's amazing she forgave you.*
Mulder ignored the last part. *You took blood from her, nothing more?*
*Believe me, the idea of her producing a child with you was thrilling. I could only imagine the power that a child with both your enhanced DNA and hers would be like. But I didn't think it was possible. I was so very hopeful when the two of you tried the IVF, and so very sad when it failed, though if it had succeeded, the resulting child would not have been as
powerful as your William is. After all, Scully had not been exposed to the vaccine when her ova were extracted.*
*But she conceived. And Will is ours; we had his DNA tested. You had to have done something to her!*
*Fox! Don't you understand yet?* Spenders 'voice' was strong. *I did nothing. I am not responsible for the existence of your son!*
*Then who is?*
*****
When Scully stepped out of her apartment building, the woman next to the van across the street, as well as the occupants inside, looked her way. Which was a good thing, Scully thought, since they were supposed to be surveilling her complex. Glancing up, then down the street, Scully jogged across it toward them. Marita turned to face her.
Scully took in the other woman's appearance and was surprised by what she saw. She had only met the blonde once, though Mulder had used her as a contact many times before, and that occasion had been one she dearly wanted to forget. It had been the day before Mulder's abduction, when both Marita and Krycek had come to their office to talk Mulder
into going back to Oregon and finding the ship that was hiding there. Scully had often wondered if Krycek had known Mulder would be taken. Or if Marita had known.
That day had been a lifetime ago, or so it seemed, and Marita looked very different. Then she had been cool as a cucumber, slim, statuesque and beautiful in a frigid sort of way. Scully had felt a pang of jealousy at the knowledge that Mulder had known this woman for quite some time. But now she looked much older than she should have only sixteen months later. Her face was thin, and though she had a naturally pale complexion, it seemed almost ghostly white in the thin sunlight. Her eyes were light blue pools of concern. And fear.
Scully couldn't imagine why this woman would be afraid of her, but she tried to approach with a little less audacity and more caution. "What are you doing here?"
"I need to talk to Mulder," she said, her voice breathy. She nodded to the van. "But these guys wouldn't let me in."
Good for them, Scully thought. "Gee, I wonder why," she said aloud, sarcasm heavy in her voice.
"Agent Scully, I--"
Her voice was suddenly silenced by a wail coming from inside the van. Marita turned back to it, her expression almost panicked, and Scully stepped closer to peer inside.
Frohike sat just inside the doorway, holding an infant. A very tiny infant. Marita reached in and took the baby, cooing and cuddling as only a mother could. The baby's cries quieted, and Scully looked down into her scrunched up eyes. She, at least Scully thought it was a she, had to be only a couple of months old.
"Yours?" Scully asked unnecessarily.
"Yes."
"Is she one of...?" What did she call them, these special children?
"I'm not sure," Marita said, her voice shaky. "She is special, but I don't know if she's as special as your child or the others I heard about." She looked up from the baby to meet Scully's eyes. "What I do know is that the Cigarette Man wants her." She sighed heavily and closed her eyes. "I can't believe the bastard didn't die." There were tears in her voice now.
Scully looked at Frohike, who sat in the van with a tortured look on his face. Byers and Langly were behind him, also looking quite concerned.
"Miss Covarrubias?" The woman didn't respond. "Marita?"
She opened her eyes. "He wants to take Rebecca from me," she whispered. "But she can't be like the others. I was never abducted."
"But you were tested, weren't you?" Byers asked. "By the Consortium?"
The woman shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut again. Then she looked at her baby. "Do you think they planned this?" she wondered aloud. "Do you think they were trying to recreate what the aliens had accidentally done to you and the others?"
Scully paused. She hadn't thought of that, though it was obvious to her now. Jeffrey Spender had told them, just before his death at the hands of his own father, that he had helped Marita escape from Ft. Marlene. Both he and Mulder had seen the horrible condition the Consortium had left her in, though neither knew where she had gone after her release. Somehow, she had gotten her life back together, and somehow she had ended up working with the senior Spender once again. Why had they kept her so long after she had been cured by the vaccine? What kind of tests had they performed on her?
"Maybe," Scully whispered. She reached over and placed her hand on the baby's head. Mulder had taught her how to open up to him. Could she open herself to another telepath as well? Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and projected her mind, hoping to catch a stray thought from either Marita or the baby. Though she heard no words in her head, it was very obvious that the baby was indeed special. Comfort, warmth, slight hunger, and...
She opened her eyes to meet Marita's gaze. "She needs to be changed," she said with a soft smile.
"I knew I smelled something," Frohike grumbled.
Marita looked at the men behind her, then turned back to Scully, her gaze startled. She smiled. It was weak, but it was real. Then her expression turned pleading. "Please, help
me. Help us."
Scully simply nodded.
*****
Mulder wasn't blindfolded for the drive home. But it didn't matter. He didn't notice much around him anyway.
His mind was too busy to care about where he was physically. In the four hours he had 'talked' with Spender, Mulder had learned a great deal about his mental abilities. He learned that his 'gift' was a very good lie detector, especially among people who knew nothing about his abilities. He had also learned how to protect his own thoughts to keep other telepaths from seeing his lies, just as Spender was doing with the Grays.
And at the end of the long, detailed discussion, he had promised CGB Spender, the man who claimed to be his father, but whom Mulder knew now was not, that he would not tell
anyone of their 'deal'. Anyone. Even Scully.
Spender had known Mulder wasn't going to keep that promise, but he pretended otherwise.
Mulder's thoughts turned to Will. The Cancer Man hadn't been lying about his lack of involvement in Will's conception, and Mulder had felt the first hint of fear in the old man
when he couldn't explain how Scully had become pregnant. It couldn't have been the Grays, since they hadn't even known she was pregnant until her third trimester. And though Parenti and the others had been trying to protect her and the baby, there had been no evidence that they had anything to do with Will's existence.
Mulder was beginning to suspect that the claim of a miracle wasn't just an excuse.
Susan Donahue sat quietly next to him on the long drive, never saying a word. But he could feel her gaze on him from time to time, and her emotions were strong. She was contemplative. Fearful. Hopeful.
When they neared the apartment, Mulder looked at her. She met his eyes with her own, then asked him softly, "Did you agree?"
Mulder said nothing, knowing that his expression said it all.
She smiled slightly, her eyes now full of the hope he had felt from her earlier. She nodded and looked away. "Good."
Mulder began to pray she was right.
When they pulled up to the front of the apartment, Mulder directed his thoughts toward the people waiting for him inside. He sensed five different individuals, but only one
mattered at the moment. *Scully?*
*Mulder?* The emotion behind that one word was strong, full of relief at his return and wonder at the fact that she could 'talk' to him without either one of them speaking. And
love; he could feel that very clearly. *Where are you?*
Mulder smiled at the familiar phrase as he reached for the door handle. *Right outside,* he told her. As he stepped out of the car he looked at the window of the apartment just in
time to see the curtain move and Scully's face appear. He nodded his head at her and smiled softly, not wanting to clue Susan in on the fact that he and Scully could now
communicate telepathically. As far as he was concerned, no one needed to know that. He hoped he could get Scully to agree with him.
He bent down and looked back into the car at Donahue. He opened his mouth to speak, then realized he had no clue what to say. She smiled at him and nodded her head in response to
his confused look. "Goodbye, Mr. Mulder. For now." For not being able to read minds, she sure had a knack for knowing what he was thinking.
He nodded back, stood straight, and closed the door. Turning, he headed toward the building. Scully had disappeared behind the curtains again, but she was still in his head. She had felt his momentary confusion, but she seemed to be facing an enigma of her own. *What's wrong?* he asked.
The answer he received was unusual, since no words were involved, only images and feelings. Yet, he quickly understood the situation, and he started walking even faster. When he entered the apartment, he was not at all surprised to see Marita Covarrubias sitting nervously on the couch. Nor was he surprised to see the baby sleeping soundly in her arms. Skinner sat at the other end of the couch and Scully stood at the opposite end of the room, holding a tired but wide-awake Will on her hip. The baby smiled when he entered, and Mulder practically glowed in the absolute trust and love he felt flowing from his child. "Hey, buddy," he said as he made his way toward them, purposefully ignoring the other woman and child in the room; Marita was afraid of him, and he wanted to give her some time to collect herself before facing her.
Mulder reached for Will and lifted him away from Scully, swinging the boy onto his own hip. Then, in a move that obviously startled Scully, he leaned over and kissed her soundly on the mouth. Her blue eyes widened in surprise. Though they had been openly living with each other for the last six months, neither of them seemed very comfortable with public displays of affection. He grinned at her and turned to face the others, but not before he saw Scully's eyes narrow. Damn. She may not be able to read his mind when he closed her off, but she didn't need to when she could read his actions so thoroughly.
*Mulder?*
*Later,* he quickly answered. *Let's get rid of Skinner, huh?*
Scully began to walk across the room to take a seat. *Why?*
*Because I don't want him involved any further.*
She sat down and looked at Skinner. "I think it's okay to go home now, sir," she told him. To Mulder, she said, *And Marita?*
*She's already involved too deep to get out.*
Skinner stood. "Yeah. I guess." He headed for the door, grabbing his coat off the rack as he strode by. "Call me if you need anything." He looked at Scully carefully, and Mulder knew he sensed there was something non-verbal going on between them. The AD glanced at Mulder. "Anything."
Mulder nodded his understanding. Skinner didn't trust Marita any farther than Will could throw her. Mulder wouldn't have either...if he wasn't able to tell by her emotions just how
terrified the woman was.
After Skinner left, Mulder turned to face the pale woman. He nodded toward the baby. "Alex know about her before he died?"
As impossible as it seemed, Marita paled even further. She shook her head. "I was too afraid to tell him," she whispered. "And then it was too late." She took a deep breath and met his eyes with her own. "Please, help us."
"What makes you think that I can?" Mulder asked.
"I know where you went today," she told him. "And I know why. Now, I need to know if you said 'yes'. Because if you did, the rebels will kill you. But if you said 'no', then I give up now, because the world as we know it is over."
"Then we better figure out a good way to keep me alive," Mulder told her. "Because I said 'yes'."
*****
It was almost 2 AM. Will had gone to sleep hours ago. Marita and little Rebecca were asleep in the guest room. And Mulder also seemed on the verge of drifting off. But Scully
couldn't relax. Couldn't sleep. Even after the bout of energetic, yet quiet, sex she and Mulder had just completed. Her whole body was limp, but her mind would not settle down.
Mulder had explained to her and Marita what he had agreed to, and how he was going to proceed with his objective without getting himself killed. But Scully, who was now incredibly, magically connected to this man, heard a completely different story behind his words. After they had retired to their bed, she had demanded he explain what was really going on. Instead, he had distracted her with more mind blowing sex.
Now she lay in his arms, her heart slowing, her body cooling, her temper starting to heat.
*If I tell you, will you promise not to say anything out loud?*
Scully caught her breath. She had been sure he was almost asleep. *Why? Do you really think someone could hear us?*
*Yes, I do.*
*But not if we...talk...like this?*
*Not with the walls I learned how to build today.*
Scully didn't respond for a moment. *Learned? From Spender?*
*Yes.*
*You're really going to take his place, aren't you?*
*Well...*
*Mulder.*
*I have an idea. But I don't want Marita to know about it until we go through with the plan.*
*She trusts you, now,* Scully told him. *Even I could see that. I hope you aren't using her.*
*Scully, the rebels want me dead, because they think I'll lead the Grays to a successful invasion. The Grays want me alive, but are afraid of me, meaning I can control them as long as I pretend to be on their side. In reality, I can keep them from taking over. For a while, anyway. If they knew my real intentions, they'd kill me without hesitation. With Spender gone, I'm the only one they'll listen to.*
*Until Will and the others are old enough to 'take over'.*
*Exactly.*
*And you want to take Marita with you to Arizona?* Mulder had told them that Spender had headed to a secret base in the Sonora Desert shortly after they parted the day before, and Spender expected Mulder to join him there soon.
*She understands the Grays AND the rebels. She'll be of great assistance to the group.*
Scully sat up suddenly. *I can't believe you're thinking like this!* She glared down at him. *What did he say to make you want to become the leader of this...this new Consortium?!*
Mulder sat up and shifted to face her. *I don't WANT to, Scully. I NEED to.*
*Why?*
*Will needs to be protected. Hell, the world needs to be protected.*
Suddenly, Scully began to laugh. *So, you really are about to become the center of the Universe.*
Mulder couldn't help but laugh softly along with her. *Only until our son is old enough to take care of said Universe himself.*
Scully sobered. *Marita knew Spender was offering you this...job. If she knows, then the rebels know, too. They'll stop you.*
*Krycek tried that already. He believed what the rebels believed, that I would eventually start working with the Grays and stop trying to save the world. He didn't succeed.*
*Oh, I see. You going to take Skinner with you to Arizona, too?* Even with telepathy, her sarcasm was clear.
*No, but I do have something in mind to insure the rebels don't find me. And that they'll leave you and Will alone when I'm gone.*
*What?*
Mulder didn't use words to explain the plan to her. It was too complicated to spell out. She felt him concentrate on her, asking that she open her mind to him even more. Images and feelings spun through her head, swirling about wildly, and she carefully began to sort them out, to separate them into coherent ideas. The transfer ended, and they both took a deep breath.
*Wow.* Mulder projected. *That was almost as intense as...* His eyebrows shot up and down suggestively.
Scully smiled. *Yeah.* Then she frowned. *Will it work?*
*It will if we believe it will.*
*It'll be hard.*
*How hard?*
Scully swallowed. *Probably one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.*
*Really?* Mulder's eyes had widened.
*Yes, really.*
*Me, too.* He took a deep breath, and his voice broke the silence that surrounded the bedroom. "Marry me."
Scully felt her heart skip, just as it had every other time he had said those words to her. "You think that will make it any easier?"
"No," Mulder answered, his voice husky. "But it will make me the happiest man in the world, alien or otherwise."
"Just like a soldier asking he best girl to marry him before he goes off to war, huh?"
"Yeah. Something like that." He was nervous. She was so attuned to him now, it was obvious.
Taking another deep breath, Scully scooted closer to him.
"Yes."
"Yes?"
"Yes, I'll marry you."
*****
'This is bullshit.'
John Doggett didn't say what he was thinking out loud, but it wasn't the first time he had thought it in the last several hours. Last several days, really. Ever since Tuesday, when this had all begun. Now, he found himself following a group of formerly joyous but soon to be very depressed people out onto the tarmac of a small, privately owned airport south of Arlington.
Tuesday. The day that Special Agent Dana Scully had visited his office, which used to be hers, to invite him and his partner to her wedding on Friday.
Now, it wasn't as if he hadn't been expecting it. He always knew that Scully would marry Mulder someday. But, a little part of him had been hoping that Mulder would get bored with domestic life and up and leave one day. Then he could play the hero and offer Scully a shoulder to cry on. Well, half of his private fantasy was coming true; Mulder was leaving... but he was marrying Scully first, insuring that no other man would be offering his shoulder to her anytime soon.
Doggett hadn't found out about Mulder's planned departure until just before the wedding itself. It had taken place in a little chapel near Manassas. That had been Doggett's first
surprise. He had always assumed Mulder would not appreciate a church wedding; Scully had commented to him months ago how Mulder wasn't the religious type. But not only had the
former agent wanted the wedding done in a church, he had asked the Scully family priest, Father McCue, to preside over it. It wasn't a Catholic ceremony (Scully had informed him that that would have entailed Mulder becoming confirmed as a Catholic AND six months of pre-matrimonial counseling), but God was definitely present.
And Mulder didn't seem to mind.
An old friend of Scully's by the name of Ellen stood as her Matron of Honor, and Frohike, looking uncomfortable in a tux, stood with Mulder. At Scully's request, and with Margaret Scully's consent, AD Skinner walked the bride down the aisle.
She had been gorgeous. Her dress was a simple off-white sheath with a scooped neckline and an ankle length skirt. Her elegant arms were bare, and her ever present cross still
graced her neck. Her hair, which she had been growing out, was pulled up into a French twist at the back of her head.
Mulder, decked out in a traditional black tuxedo, never took his eyes off of her. Doggett couldn't blame him.
The ceremony had been short and sweet. After the couple had exchanged rings, Mrs. Scully brought William up to the altar to join with his parents. The baby had stayed amazingly quiet throughout, and once in the arms of his mother started gurgling happily, sharing his parents obvious joy. A joy that Doggett knew would not last; Skinner had told him Mulder was planning on leaving that night for parts unknown... with Marita Covarrubias. His wedding night, and the man was going away with another woman. Doggett just couldn't fathom it.
After the ceremony, the wedding party, and the few guests that had attended it, met at a nearby pub to celebrate. Laughter and music had filled the old bar, and Doggett gladly joined in, allowing his concerns to sit unnoticed in the back of his mind for a little while. As evening had neared, he finally managed to get the tiring Scully onto the dance floor. He clearly remembered their discussion, which she had started:
"What's wrong?"
Doggett looked down into a pair of worried blue eyes. "Nothing."
Scully smiled. "Yeah, right. Nothing is the reason you suddenly became stiff as a board."
For one second, Doggett misinterpreted her words and felt his face heat. At her amused snort, her realized she was not talking about what he thought she had been talking about but about his whole body. 'Damn,' he thought. 'Did I just give myself away?' He glanced off to the side where Mulder was chatting with Margaret Scully and her daughter-in-law.
"Don't worry," Scully said softly. "He's much too preoccupied to care about what you're thinking. Besides, he promised not to delve into anybody's mind tonight."
Doggett looked at her again, wary now. "You don't seem upset that your...husband...can read minds."
Her eyebrows rose. "Should I be?"
Doggett shrugged. "Well, you've always seemed to be such a private person."
She smiled again. "Yeah. I am."
"Then the fact that he can 'see' your secrets should bother you."
She shook her head. "John - can I call you John? - you can prevent a telepath from reading your thoughts. There are easy ways to block them out. In fact, I found it much more difficult to let down those barriers than to keep them up." She gave him a wistful smile. "Besides, Mulder and I have no secrets between us. Not anymore."
"So, you know the real reason he's going away with Covarrubias tonight?" Doggett knew his voice had hardened, and he did nothing to apologize for it.
"Yes, I do. And as strange as it sounds to you, I understand why he has to go, and I am okay with it." Despite her words, there was a deep sadness in her eyes.
"Where's he going, Dana?"
She sighed. "CGB Spender is alive," Scully whispered. "I know you know that name." She waited for his nod of affirmation. "Mulder's going to make a deal with him. To keep Will and myself safe."
"Are you saying this Spender is behind Teresa Hoese's death? The abduction of her child?"
She nodded.
"And Covarrubias?"
"She's worked with Spender before. She's acting as the go-between." She glanced away from him for a moment, and Doggett had a funny feeling inside his gut that told him she
wasn't telling him the truth. Or at least not all of it.
"When's he coming back?"
"Within the week."
"Why now?" he pushed. "Why does he have to go tonight?"
"Spender gave him a deadline, and he has to meet it."
"And the wedding couldn't wait until he got back?"
Scully swallowed and blinked quickly, as if chasing away sudden tears. "We decided that Mulder would have a better chance convincing Spender to leave us alone if
we... officiated... our familial status."
Doggett stayed silent for a moment. Then, meeting her sad gaze, he said, "You're lying."
The music had stopped then, and without responding to his accusation, Scully thanked him for the dance and made her way swiftly toward Mulder. Before she had even reached him,
her new husband had turned to face her, concern evident on his face. Almost as if he knew what she was thinking.
Of course, he did, Doggett told himself. He's a telepath.
Now he was accompanying Reyes, Skinner and the three stooges in helping Scully and William say farewell to Mulder and Covarrubias. Why he was bothering to do so, he couldn't say. He could have said his farewells at the pub and gone home, as had all the other guests. But, like Monica, he felt a certain sense of loyalty to the couple and their child; a need to protect.
The autumn night was cold, but not quite freezing. The air was moist, however, and puffs of steam appeared as if by magic whenever someone breathed out. The pilot of the little
Cessna started the engine and Covarrubias, who had been silent and sober all night, climbed aboard. He thought he heard the little guy, Frohike, ask her about a baby, but she
ignored him and disappeared inside the plane.
Mulder and Scully stood off to the side facing each other, little Will tucked between them. Mulder had his head lowered just enough for their foreheads to meet. No words were spoken between them. Doggett knew now that none were needed. With a sniff, Scully raised her face and pressed her lips to Mulder's. Doggett looked away, unable to watch any longer.
Mulder finally boarded the plane without a backward glance.
The small group walked back toward the hanger at the edge of the runway, where they stood silently watching the plane taxi along to its end. It turned, sped up, and soon became
one with the air.
Doggett looked at Scully. She was looking down at her son, a lone tear on her cheek. Whatever secrets she was keeping from him, and most likely the others, her sadness at
Mulder's departure was real.
"Oh, my God!"
"Shit!"
Byers' and Langly's exclamations caused Doggett to turn his attention from Scully and towards where the plane's lights should have been fading in the night sky. Scully also looked up.
There, in the sky where the plane should have been, was a ball of orange light. It faded quickly, but the fire falling from the sky would be visible in Doggett's mind’s eye for
many years to come.
As would the gut-wrenching scream from the woman at his side.
"MULDER!!!!!"
*****
"Go There With You"
I know you've heard me say these words before
But every time I say I love you,
The words mean something more
I spoke them as a promise
Right from the start
I said death would be the only thing
That could tear us apart
And now that you are standing
On the edge of the unknown
I love you means I'll be with you
Wherever you must go
I will take a heart whose nature
Is to beat for me alone
And fill it up with you -
Make all your joy and pain my own
No matter how deep
A valley you go through
I will go there with you
I will give myself to love the way
Love gave itself for me
I would climb with you to mountaintops
Or swim a raging sea
To the place where one heart is made from two
I will go there with you
I see it in the tears
You wonder where you are
The wind is growing colder
And the sky is growing dark
Though it's something neither of us
Understands
We can walk through this together
If we hold each other's hand
I said for better or for worse
I'd be with you
So no matter where you're going
I will go there too
I will take a heart whose nature
Is to beat for me alone
And fill it up with you -
Make all your joy and pain my own
No matter how deep
A valley you go through
I will go there with you
I will give myself to love the way
Love gave itself for me
I would climb with you to mountaintops
Or swim a raging sea
To the place where one heart is made from two
I will go there with you
I know sometimes I let you down
But I won't let you go
We'll always be together
- Steven Curtis Chapman
*****
EPILOGUE
Three Months Later
Maggie Scully was sitting cross-legged on the floor of her daughter's living room playing with her grandson when she heard a knock at the door. Knowing Dana was in her bedroom/office working on an overdue autopsy report, Maggie didn't want to disturb her. Standing, she walked toward the door, watching Will's reaction as she did so. The boy was
watching her with wide, unconcerned eyes that looked eerily like his father's.
"Who is it, Will?" she asked softly.
Any other grandmother would have meant this as a rhetorical question, but not Maggie. The baby's eyebrows shot up and a grin formed on his face. Though he couldn't speak, yet, his level of understanding was significant. And Maggie saw his response as a positive thing. It was someone he knew. Someone he liked.
Looking through the peephole, Maggie recognized John Doggett instantly. With a smile ready on her face, she opened the door. "John!"
"Hello, Mrs. Scully," he said with a grin of his own, entering the apartment as she stepped aside. "Is Dana here?"
"Yes," Maggie said. "I'll get her." Maggie knew the apartment was small enough she could just call out to her daughter, but it was so much more civilized to fetch the person in question. It was a habit she had tried desperately to drill into her children with only partial success. Walking down the hallway, Maggie opened the door and peeked inside. "Dana? John's here to see you."
Her daughter glanced up from the computer, which she had moved to her bedroom only a month before, after Will's crib had been moved to the guest room... now his room. Her eyes were shadowed and her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. "What's he want?"
Maggie frowned. "I didn't ask," she said firmly, crossing her arms.
Dana gave her a faint grin. "Sorry. Guess I need a secretary, huh?"
She rose from her desk and stepped past her mother toward the living room. John had seated himself on the sofa and was talking to a grinning Will. The baby picked up a wooden
block with the letter 'D' on it and handed it to the agent. John frowned slightly, his gaze contemplative.
"Yes," Dana said softly. "He meant to give you the 'D'. For Doggett."
John looked at her, his astonishment evident. "He's only nine months old."
"And your point...?"
Maggie laughed and moved to sit back down next to the little boy. "He's very precocious," she explained.
"That's an understatement," John mumbled. He stood and handed the file he was carrying to Dana. "It's the final report on the explosion."
Maggie stilled suddenly, watching her daughter with concerned eyes.
Dana took the folder from him. "Final? It's closed?"
John nodded. "I'm sorry. But the findings are official. No survivors."
Dana stared at him, her jaw tightening. Without opening the folder, she turned away. "I won't accept that." Maggie could tell her daughter was talking through clenched teeth.
"Scully--"
Dana turned a glare on her former partner. She refused to be called by that name anymore. It was either Dana or Agent Mulder. Not Scully. Not anymore.
"Dana," John started over. "I know it's hard--"
"I found his dead body once, John. I watched as they put him into the ground. I WILL NOT believe he's dead...even if you had found a body. Which you didn't."
John sighed and looked down at the baby, who was now watching them with worry. Maggie wondered, as she often did, how much the boy understood.
With a sharp nod, John headed for the door, taking the file from Dana as he walked by her. "I'll see you later."
Maggie cast a pleading glance toward her daughter.
Dana met it, sighed, and turned toward him. "John."
John turned to look at her, his eyebrows raised in question.
"Thank you for your concern." Dana offered him a small smile.
Returning her smile, he nodded, then left.
Dana sighed again, looked at her son, who teasingly blew a raspberry at her, then turned toward her room once again. "I'll be done in a bit," she told Maggie. "Then we can bundle up and go play in the snow." Maggie knew she was speaking out loud for her sake, not her child's. Will already knew what she was thinking.
As Maggie watched her go with worried eyes, she noticed how her daughter's fingers kept reaching up to play with the cross around her neck. Only, it wasn't around her neck anymore. It hadn't been for three months.
Maggie had never gotten the courage to ask Dana where it had gone.
*****
El Creyente Base
Southern Arizona
Dr. Susan Donahue sat down in one of the several chairs that circled the round table in the main conference room. She was wearing black, as were most of the others in the room, in
respect for the man they had buried just that morning. CGB Spender had finally kicked the bucket. And though she was more relieved than saddened by his death, she knew she
needed to present an air of mourning. After all, he had been the only one between the earth and invasion...once upon a time.
Across the room, several men entered...if one wanted to call them men. They had once gone by the names Billy Miles, Ray Hoese, and Knowle Rohrer. Now, they were simply guards.
Protectors of the Council and the children. There were thirteen children now. Three more babies had been discovered since the transitional period had begun a few months ago. All were results of the Syndicate's tests on three former employees, two of which were now dead, one the newest member of the Council. All but one of the children were now in Susan's care. Three of the children's birth parents had joined the Council and helped her in the care and early education of the talented babies. Not that they needed any help in learning; her own Wesley, at only one month over two-years-old, could already add and subtract, and was beginning to read on his own, without any real encouragement.
A handful of men and women entered the room and moved to their chairs. They were silent and moved with abnormal grace. The Grays. Attending the meeting in human form in order to keep their associates comfortable. Serious and incredibly observant, the Grays didn't need to talk aloud, but chose to do so as it was easier for them to get their ideas across to those humans who resisted the mind probes...as she did. Besides, only two men could 'speak' back to them...and one was now dead.
A tall blonde woman entered cautiously behind them. Catching Susan's eye, she made her way around the table and sat in the chair next to her. When the woman had first arrived, she had been sick and terrified. It had taken weeks for her, and her tiny daughter, to settle in. Now, she looked calm and collected. Ready to face whatever was thrown her way. Susan couldn't help but admire the woman; it wasn't easy to face these creatures every day and pretend to be their friend. 'Especially when one of those creatures looks like the
father of your child,' Susan thought, casting a glance at one of the replicants, who wore the face of a man she once loved.
The few quiet discussions that had been going on throughout the room faded as a new person entered and made his way to the head of the table. Standing behind his chair, he looked carefully around the room, meeting the eye of everyone present, even the replicants. His gaze was steady, unafraid, determined. Confident.
The look of a man in charge.
As he sat down and began to talk about the business at hand, she watched him reach up and finger the tiny gold cross that hung around his neck.
Susan felt a smile play at her lips and fought to control it. He was in charge now.
Thank God.
THE END
Comments