Title: Somebody's child
Author: Cici
email address: cici_phile@hotmail.com
distribution: Anywhere is fine; but I would like to know
first
rating: pg-13
classification: X, MSR, MA, SA

Spoiler warning: Conspiracy episodes (vaguely)through
season eight; I try to stay unspoiled about future episodes,
so any spoilers on the rest of season 8 are purely accidental.

Summary: A possible resolution to the baby issue

Disclaimer: Alright already, they aren't mine. But I can at
least pretend, can't I?

Author's note: Let's be realistic here: we all *know* we're
not getting a happy ending with the baby (no, that's not a
spoiler, just a prediction), so I made up one that isn't happy,
but that I can deal with. Feedback appreciated, but be
gentle--it's my first time ;)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He doesn't even have time to turn on the lights to his apartment
before he realizes there is a man across the room pointing
a gun to his head. His response is calm, not displaying any
fear.

"Krychek." He says the word with controlled contempt. It
is a statement of fact as much as a declaration of hatred.

"Mulder," Krychek responds, the slight sneer on his face
apparent even through the shadows. "Don't you think it's
time you got a new security system? This one is getting
remarkably boring."

"What do you want, Krychek?" Mulder hisses, ignoring the
other man's sarcasm.

"The same as you, surprisingly," Krychek replies, stepping
forward so half of his face shines through the shadows.
"Agent Scully's protection and the protection of her unborn
baby."

Mulder feels his body tensing, his eyes narrow.

"At what cost?" he growls.

Krychek laughs

"You've learned the game so well, Mulder. But I told you.
I want the same things as you. I just have the detachment
to carry through with what needs to be done."

"What are you talking about Krychek?" Mulder steps closer
to the shadowed form, feeling the hatred rise in him at the
closer distance. "Just cut to the chase. Tell me why you
came here before I'm tempted to do something we'll both regret."

"Control yourself, Mulder. I came here to tell you how to protect
Agent Scully." He steps out of the shadows, displaying a serious face. 
"What she is carrying with her is a highly valued commodity.
One that many people would be willing to kill for."

"Including you." It is an accusation, not a question.

"Perhaps. But I have good reason for it, unlike the others."

"Oh?" Mulder says with an angry laugh. "And what would that be?"

"You've been told that this baby is engineered. The ultimate
goal of the project. A being with the mental and physical
strength of an alien, the but mind and body of a person. A
person who is resistant to the alien virus."

"That's one thing that's been told to me." Mulder replies
suspiciously.

"Well, that's not completely true. The baby Scully is carrying
*is* the perfect human--the project's ultimate goal realized.
And it does carry a mix of alien and human genes. But it's not engineered, 
Mulder. It's completely natural--the result of
Scully's genes paired with yours."

Outside the apartment, sirens sound, but they go unnoticed.
Everything outside fades away. Mulder finds himself only able
to concentrate on what he is being told, and what it means.

"The baby is yours, Mulder."

He feels a silent stun, his anger for a moment subsiding,
but then returning when he remembers who is carrying this
news.

"So what? Why does that beg your involvement, Krychek?
What difference does that make to you?"

"The baby was not produced by doctors. The attempts made at
getting Scully to carry a manufactured fetus were all failures.
That means these results cannot be reproduced. In this baby's
blood is the formula for resistance to the virus. Resistance
to colonization. This resistance is only found in this baby's
DNA, no where else; and no where else can it be replicated.
It is the result of a random pairing of genes--genes containing
alien DNA in the form of a vaccine in Scully's case, and in the
form of exposure to the virus in yours--but paired in a perfectly natural, 
random, unreplicateable, manner. Do you see the
importance of Scully's safety now?"

"Seeing the importance of Scully's safety has never been a
problem for me," Mulder spits out, and then pauses to fully
understand the implication of Krycheck's words. "Why are
you telling me this? You're saying you need this baby stop colonization. 
You think I'm going to just hand this
baby over to you because you tell me what it is? Because
you claim you can use it as some sort of resistance to
win the war? You might as well shoot me now, Krychek,
because you're wasting your words."

"They'll be plenty of time for that, too," Krychek sneers.
"But I don't think you're hearing what I'm saying, Mulder.
There are men besides me who will stop at nothing to get
their hands on this baby and the genetic code that it
contains. They will not hesitate to take Agent Scully's
life if it means obtaining their goal. But these men don't
want to save the world, Mulder. They only want to turn
this baby over to the aliens to save their own skin and
that of their families."

"The consortum is dead!" Mulder protests. "Burnt up by
the aliens when the men involved made a similar attempt
to save themselves."

Krychek laughs.

That was just a small American faction, Mulder. The
Russian group is still strong, and has plenty of roots
over here on American soil. If you want to protect Scully,
and have a shot at saving the world, you have to do as I say."

"Trust *you*?!"

Krychek nods, this time without a smile.

"A month before the due date, you and Agent Scully disappear.
Take a bus, get tickets under another name, paying in cash,
make it look like you are going far, but really stay near
and hide out until the baby is born. Don't see a doctor.
Don't go to a hospital. No---Matter---What. the Russians
are expecting a difficult birth; they won't bother to put
out feelers anywhere except in the health-care industry.
And believe me, they have enough feelers to feel you out
if you go anywhere near there."

Mulder is silent for a moment, brooding over this.

"What about the chip in her neck?" the thought suddenly
comes to him. "That was put there by humans. Can it
be used to track her?"

Krychek gives a small half-grin.

"The Russians have no knowledge of the chip."

"But you do, don't you Krychek? You know how it works and
how to use it to find her, don't you? Don't you?!"

"You don't trust me Mulder, so I can't trust you.
That chip is my key to saving the world."

Mulder disregards the gun entirely, as he lunges for
Krychek's throat. He knocks the man to the ground, his
hand wrapped around the neck of his enemy. His grip tightens
even as he feels cold metal held on his own neck.

"Don't make me kill you, Mulder." Krychek says with
remarkable composure, considering he is wheezing out
each word. "She needs you to protect her."

His grip tightens for an instant before he lets go,
his eyes still locked with Krychek's to let his opponent
know he is not backing down out of fear.

"And what will you do if we remove it?"

"It's not what I'll do," he replies, pulling himself up,
"it's what will happen. The cancer will return, but this
time much quicker and stronger than before. She'll likely
not even have a chance to carry the baby to term."

Mulder feels the urge to pounce on Krychek again, but
holds himself back, knowing that Krychek is telling the
truth, not making a threat. He feels the deep resignation
of knowing there is no true way to win this battle.

"It's the only way to save her, Mulder," Krychek says,
backing towards the door.

Mulder makes no move to confirm nor deny what he has
just heard.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out," he mutters,
and waits until the intruder leaves to sink down onto
the floor with his head in his hands.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She finds herself unable to move as alien hands probe her
body. She tries to cry out, but finds she has no voice,
either. The hands reach to her legs, separating them.
She watches in horror as they reach inside of her, pulling
out a crying baby. . .

Scully wakes with a start, her breath coming in quick gasps
and her eyes full of tears that threaten to spill over.
As more of a reflex then a conscience thought, she reaches
for the phone next to her bed, pressing number three on the
speed dial. It is five rings, 46 beats of her rapidly
pumping heart, before she hears a voice on the other end.

"Mulder." The voice is groggy, but still has the result
of slowing her breath. She presses the phone closer to
her ear with both hands, but is unable to find her voice.

"Hello?" His voice is more awake now, and holds a
slight timbre of concern. Her breaths still come heavy
into the receiver, and she is unsure what to say now that
she has waited so long to speak. She presses the phone
even closer, trying to find comfort from the presence of
the voice on the other end.

"Scully? Is that you?" Full alertness is now in his voice,
and it is thickly laced with worry. She tries to force her
vocal cords to vibrate, but can only continue her worried
breathing. She forces the phone away from her ear,
considering hanging up as it seems easier than finding
something to say now. His breathing on the other end, which
is now matching the pace of hers, changes her mind.
She pictures him jumping in his car and bursting into her
apartment in a blind panic, and pushes the phone back to
her ear.

"Y-yeah." She follows her voice with a sigh, the effort
of finding her voice making her feel tired and weak.

"Are you okay? Is something wrong?" The worry is reaching
panic now, in spite of hearing her voice. She smiles softly,
comforted by his predictable response.

"No. I mean. . .I'm okay. I just. . .I was. . ." She
sighs again, unsure what she wants to say. She has
shared with him so many worries, so much fear, and yet,
since his return she seems unable to let him know
all of her feelings. He shares enough fear for both
of them, she thinks.

"I'm coming over. I'll be there in a minute, okay?"

"Okay." she concedes. Was it only a couple of days
ago that she insisted she was fine and didn't want him
to have to stay with her? She wants to keep up that front,
but doesn't feel strong enough to at the moment.
His presence is the only thing she can find comfort in
lately. She continues pressing the receiver to her ear,
even after she hears the click that signifies his hang up.
**
When he enters her apartment, she is sitting at her
kitchen table, one arm wrapped around the knee she
has propped up on her chair, and one holding a cup
of hot tea. He has been prepared to call out her name,
to find her and rescue her like a damsel in distress,
and finds himself unsure of what to do with this version
of Scully that doesn't seem to match the Scully he heard
on the phone. He halts at the doorway, searching her
face for clues as how to proceed. He notices that she
still has on pajamas and has dark rings under her eyes.
Of course she has rings under her eyes, he thinks, it
it only two-o-clock in the morning. He hopes his
appearance looks brighter and more comforting than
the tired image she offers.

"Are you okay?" he says finally.

She offers the raising of one eyebrow, as if his question is foolish.

"I'm fine." She replies bluntly. "Do you want some tea?"
She makes a half-hearted gesture to her cup. He tilts
his head in confusion at her question. She's trying
to hide from him, he realizes. She called him over here
in a moment of fear, but now she is trying to hide it.
He doesn't answer her question, but instead steps toward
her, kneeling down when he reaches her chair. She averts
his eyes as he gazes into her face and takes her hands
into his. Her hands are cold, and shaky, betraying the
confident image she is trying to portray.

"I don't think you called me down here at two in the
morning so we could have tea." His voice is soft and
questioning, probing for her to tell him what is really wrong.

She doesn't answer, but plays with his hands for a moment.
Her face softens and she softly wraps her arms around his neck,
laying her head on his shoulder. He is surprised for a
moment, but then puts his arms around her back, pulling
her into a soft embrace.

"I'm sorry, Mulder." she says softly into his ear.
He can feel the vibrations of her voice travel from
her chest into his. He shifts his head a little, pulling
her closer.

"For what?"

"I don't know why I'm wasting time like this." He
hears her voice in his ears and in his chest. "When
you came back, I was so. . ." her voice breaks, and
he moves his hand from her back to her hair, softly
stroking it. "so happy. And I swore that I wouldn't
waist any more time. But now I'm just pushing you away
again." Her voice is teary. He doesn't say anything,
but continues stroking her hair.

"It's not what I want, Mulder. I just want to be with you.
I was away from you for 5 months, and I don't
want that any more. I want you here."

"I'm here." He sends vibrations into her chest,
hoping they convey everything he means. She sniffles
a little, but he feels no tears on his shirt.
Her head becomes heavy on his shoulder, and her body
gratefully takes the support that his offers.

"Have you been sleeping?" he asks softly into her
ear, remembering the dark rings around her eyes.
He tries to think back, to remember if those same
rings were there yesterday. And the day before.
He chastises himself for his lack of observance.
He should have been more insistent at staying over.
Her confession only proves his negligence.

She waits to answer until she has pulled her body
away from his.

"I can't" she says softly, still looking away.
Her hands twitch on her lap. He covers them with
his, anchoring their movement. She finally looks
into his eyes.

"I'm scared, Mulder." The admission forces her already
red eyes to fill with tears, and she looks strongly to
the side, forcing them back. "I'm scared they're going to
take it away while I'm sleeping. That I'll wake up, and
I won't be pregnant any more."

He moves one hand up to her face, lightly cupping her cheek.
He wants to tell her it will all be okay, but he can't.
It would only be another lie, to add to all the things he
knows that he is keeping from her. It has been two days
since his encounter with Krychek, and he has one more
week before he must act on the information. One more
week before it is a month before he due date. He feels
it is pointless to tell her what he had been told--to
cause her to carry the burden he now supports. And
dangerous to mention the chip, as she might insist on
having it removed. He wants the safety of her baby,
but values her life far more.

"You need to sleep," he says finally, pushing
conflicting thoughts aside. she nods, and allows
him to pull her to her feet. Their hands still
linked, he guides her to the bedroom and pulls
the covers back. She hangs onto his hand even
as she slides under the covers. Her grip tightens
as she feels him let go.

"Stay?" It is a desperate plea, with a different
meaning then "don't leave." Don't leave means
stay somewhere nearby. Stay, he knows, means stay with me.

He nods, smoothing her hair with the hand that is
free from her tight grasp.

"Of course." She sighs at his words, and releases
him so that he can slide into the bed behind her.
He places his body close to hers, unsure of where
the always changing boundary is drawn tonight. She
answers by gravitating towards his heat and conveying the
need in her own body. He responds to this by wrapping
his arms around her, pulling her close. His reward is
her hand reaching for his arm, and her eyes closing
upon contact. Underneath his hand, he can feel the swell
of her belly, and he contemplates the life that it
contains. His baby, Krychek had said. For months
he's been carefully calling it hers, scared to cross
any lines, but now he begins to feel it may be his, too.

In only a few minutes, Scully's hand relaxes on
his arm, and her breath takes on the slow rhythm
of sleep. His breath remains shallow much longer,
as he contemplates the secrets he knows and makes
plans for all of their safety--including that of
the unborn form that occasionally bobbles and
shifts about underneath his hand.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


"What about the chip?" She asks him innocently one day,
as if she is unaware the damage it does to him to have
it mentioned. For a week, she has been compliant, not
questioning where the plan of them hiding out came about.
Not questioning the retired doctorhe is paying
thousands of dollars to for watching over her and eventually
delivering her baby. Not even questioning the
what-comes-next plan, for what happens after the baby
is born. She has been compliant because of her fear.
She was happy to have someone take charge and offer
all the answers as to how she was going to be kept safe.
But now her fear has quelled, and she has had time to
think and question the logic of their plan.

"What?" he says carefully.

"The chip. In my neck. What if it tells them where
we are?"

"The consortum is dead, Scully," he says slowly,
wanting to convince her. "They are the ones that
had it put there, and now they're gone."

She nods, unconvinced.

"There's only on way to be sure," she says.

"You can't take the chip out, Scully." He feels his
throat constrict and his voice become louder.

She nods again. To his surprise, she doesn't argue
with him. Maybe her fear of the cancer is greater
than he had thought.

"Then there's only one thing we can do." Her voice
is soft, and resigned. He searches her face for
clues of what is to come next.

"You have to take the baby."

"What?"

"You have to take the baby. Right after I have it,
you have to take it away, so it's not with me. So
it's not with this chip."

He feels anger at her words. That she is
willing to sacrifice herself for her child.

"It's too great a risk. What if I want to stay
and protect you?"

"They don't want me, Mulder. They want the baby."
The calmness of her words makes him feel sick.

"And then what? We're separated forever? You
never see your own child? What kind of rescue
is that?"

She is silent, thinking.

Just for a while, Mulder. Until they think it
is gone. We can fake adoption papers. Adopt our
own child."

He shakes his head.

"What?" her voice shows emotion for the first time.
"That's no better than your plan Mulder? I mean, what
about the 'then what?' of your plan? How long do we hide
out? When does it end? How do you plan on protecting the
baby after it is born?"

"I'll be ready for whoever comes after it," he responds
calmly.

"Which will be who?! How many? You can't fight off a while
army, Mulder."

"Only one person knows about the chip, Scully."
The truth comes out without thinking.

"What?!" What do you know that you're not telling me?"
Her calmness turns to anger. He looks away from her face,
unable to confess while looking into her angry eyes.
Unable to see the anger change to hurt, or fear.

"Krychek," he says finally. "Krychek knows about the chip."

Her eyebrows raise in surprise at his words.

"He's who told me to go into hiding and stay away
from hospitals. He's the reason we're here."

"And you trust him?" Her words are surprised more
than angry.

"No, I don't trust him. But I do believe that what
he tells me is true. And that is, we either hide out
here and face Krychek when the baby is born, or don't
hide out and face the whole Russian army at some unknown
time. I thought Krychek was better odds."

The shock on her face is punishment enough for all of his
lies to her. He mentally strikes himself for causing this
emotion in her.

"Why didn't you tell me, Mulder? Why do you always
have to hide things from me?" She is focused on his
deception rather than the greater meaning fo his words,
he realizes. He wonders how long it will take before
she realizes what this means for the future of her child.

"I didn't want to frighten you. I'm sorry." He hangs
his head, emphasizing the sincerity in his words.

She shakes her head, but then reaches for his
hand.

"We're in this together," she says, her voice soft.
"I want to know everything you know."

He nods. The truth can no longer be with held, and he
will share with her the responsibility of making a decision.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

end part 1/3 Somebody's Child

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The plan is still in the negotiation stage when a week
later it is unexpectedly sprung in action by Scully's
proclamation that the baby is on it's way. She has made
him promise to avoid hospitals and take the baby away
from her after it's birth. He has committed to this in
words, but knows certain circumstances may force him
to alter this plan.

He feels this indecision strongly when her groans of
pain are decidedly louder than he had expected them to
be. Her face is full of sweat and pain only minutes
after her announcement, and a tight grip of his hand
offers little comfort.

"Is she alright?" Mulder demands of their hired
baby-deliverer, who is looking slightly concerned,
and feeling around in different places. His only
answer is a slight, frustrated, shake of his head.

"Mulder, you promised." Scully's reminder comes
out as a whine, a plea. She is reading his mind
and thoughts about changing their plan.
He turns away from her pleading eyes, ignoring
her words.

"Is she going to be alright?!" he demands again.

The doctor feels around some more.

"Only time can tell," he says, pushing further
inquiries away with his eyes. "Now make yourself
useful and get me my bag."

Mulder looks into Scully's pained eyes one more
time before doing as he is told. But he is only
able to remain quiet for five more minutes, after
which the constant shaking of the doctor's head,
combined with more groans from Scully, cause him
to question again.

"What's happening? What is it?"

The older man shakes his head again and pulls
Mulder away from Scully, hiding his words from her.

"I know you are desperate to avoid a hospital, but
this woman needs to be in an operating room.
I don't have the facilities or the knowledge to
save her here."

Mulder only hesitates a moment before reaching
for the phone.

"No, Mulder. . ." her desperate whine causes his
fingers to pause on the numbers. "Will the baby live?"
she directs at the doctor.

"I can't answer that for sure," the doctor
concedes after a moment's pause, "but it's not
the baby I'm concerned about."

"Mulder, you promised." Her eyes are pleading, and
he remembers the decision she had forced him to
come to.

My life, Mulder. We don't go to a hospital unless
the baby is in danger. You promise? A gulp and a
pause from him. You promise? A pause. Yes Scully,
I promise.

The conversation runs through his mind as his fingers
linger over the phone dial. He had known at the time
it was a promise he couldn't keep if her life was
in danger. Averting her eyes, he dials.

When he turns back to her after being satisfied an
ambulance is on the way, her eyes are pained and
accusing. She no longer cries out in pain, but he
watches her tears flow until the sirens arrive.

The ambulance ride is lengthened by the obvious pain
that Scully is in, and the fear that they both share
for what will happen next. Mulder is surprised when
half way through the ride, Scully grasps his hand tightly,
becoming highly disturbed when their fingers' union is
forced apart upon reaching the hospital. He runs
along beside the paramedics, out of arms reach, but
trying to reach her with his eyes. I'm here, Scully.
I won't let anything happen to you. If only he could
keep this unspoken promise. His attempt to stay with
her is brought to a halt outside swinging doors.

"Sir, you can't go in here." A large black nurse
steps in his way. "Sir. . .!"

He pushes past her and through the doors, seeing
the panicked look on Scully's face soften slightly
as he enters the room.

"Sir!" The nurse catches up to him again.
"You'll only be in the way! I have to ask you to
leave."

"This woman's life may be in danger!" He looks
deep into the nurse's eyes, begging for her
understanding. "She's not going anywhere that
I'm not."

"This woman's life is indeed in danger," the nurse
replies calmly, "but you're not helping us save
her by standing in here and getting in our way.
Now am I going to have to call security on you?"

With a glance towards Scully, reading the panic
in her eyes, he pulls his gun out from underneath
his coat, pointing it nowhere in particular, but
making a threat to the whole room.

"This woman may be in danger from outside forces.
Men. You will save her and I will protect her.
Is that clear?"

The nurse looks surprised, but unshaken.
For a moment, the room is silent.

"Put your gun away sir, so the doctors can get back to
work. And step back and stay out of the way." With
that, the nurse steps to Scully's side, and the room
returns to action. Scully sighs slightly, her relief
at Mulder's presence obvious. His gun hand drops to
his side, and he steps back as he is told, but never so
far as to be out of range of his partner's eyes.

Medical terms are slung around rapidly, and he is
vaguely aware of needles and slicing tools, but he
keeps his eyes locked on hers, trying to provide a
life-line, a link. His gaze only breaks much, much
later, with the sound of a baby's's wail.

"It's a girl!" the nurse announces. "Ten fingers
and toes!" She holds it close to Scully's face, to
allow the mother to see. Scully's eyes are groggy,
and pained, but open fully to view the infant. She
tries to reach her hand up to touch it, but finds
herself too weak. For a moment she struggles, fighting
to reach her child. Then, Mulder is by her side,
realizing her plight and helping her. He takes
her hand and guides it to the baby's cheek. Their
eyes meet as together they touch their child. For
a moment, a smile plays upon her lips, and he allows
himself half of a smile, too. Their baby, he thinks.
A wailing bundle of wrinkled pink, that came from
both of them.

But then their thoughts return to reality, and the
problems it presents to them.

"Go with her." Scully whispers, her eyes fluttering
and hand becoming limp in his. "Go. . .with. . . her."
She forces the words out one more time before allowing
her eyes to close. The doctors begin bustling again,
and the black nurse with the baby begins to leave.
Mulder remain frozen, Scully's hand still in his.
He is unknowing of whether to fulfill her request.
If he takes the baby, as she wants, he leaves her
exposed, vulnerable to the danger Krychek warned him of.

"Go, Agent Mulder," a strong voice behind him commands.
He turns to see the familiar form of Skinner standing
behind him. He is fully surprised to see this man, but
relieved that he is here. He wonders if skinner had
performed the same gun trick that he had to make it
through the swinging doors.

"I'll stay with her," Skinner says
with a cocked eyebrow. "Go."

With a nod, Mulder heads toward the door and after
the nurse who is carrying the baby. Before they can
reach the room she is headed for, he grabs her from
behind, putting an arm around her and pressing his
gun to her back. He feels slight guilt at scaring
an innocent hospital nurse, but is willing to use
whatever force necessary to get this baby to safety.

"I am taking this baby into my own protection," he
says softly into her ear. "I don't mean you or it
any harm, I'm only protecting it from other forces."

The nurse stiffens and nods. She loosens her grip
on the baby and allows it to slide into his arms.
It is difficult to hold the gun on the nurse and
hold the baby at one time. He allows himself to
look down at the baby's face, a mistake, he realizes.
It has Scully's nose. Scully's nose and his lips.
It is a blend of them. Their baby. He finds himself
holding it more carefully and his gun more loosely.

"Looks like you've got all the work done for me,"
a voice behind him says. He stiffens. It is
Krychek's voice. He turns to find Krychek's
gun pointed at his chest, to the right of where
he holds the baby.

"You're not taking her," Mulder says
with determination.

"Be rational, Mulder. The only thing standing
between me and that baby is one bullet.
One bullet that I would rather not fire,
but will if I have to." His finger tightens on
the trigger, as if to illustrate his point.

"You're not taking her," Mulder repeats, this
time raising his own gun and aiming at Krychek's
face. "I would never hand my child over to you."

"Your child." Krychek snickers. "This isn't your
child. This child belongs to the world. It's our
savior, Mulder. Yours, mine, Scully's, this
nurse's. . . But you have to be willing to make a
sacrifice, Mulder, so the world can carry on in the
manner to which we are accustomed."

Mulder grips the baby close to him, taking a moment to
glance down at its pink face and miniature features.
He shakes his head in a defiant "no" to Krychek's request.

"Not ten minutes behind me, Mulder, is the whole,
fuckin' Russian army, ready to swarm this hospital
and take this baby at whatever means are necessary.
Shoot me if you will, but how many of them will you
take out before they take you out also?"

"Then let me come with you," Mulder responds finally.
"Let me be a part of what it is you are going to do."

Krychek snorts.

"I told you, Mulder. You don't have the detachment
required to do what is necessary. Let it go now.
It's the right choice."

Mulder knows the truth of his words. Believes that
he is not lying. Realizes that the rational choice,
the utilitarian morality, would be to hand the baby
over. He had even thought, at one time before its
birth, that he could make this choice, in spite of
the pain it would cause Scully. But that was before
she was born, when she was still and abstract object.
Before he had made the mistake of looking into the
baby's face; had felt himself take on the instinct
of a father. And a father cannot sacrifice his own
child. He is no Abraham. It is a cowardly thought,
but he would rather die than live with the knowledge
that he has placed his own baby into Krychek's hands.
Saving the world, but sealing it's death. He is
ready to tell this to the man with the gun pointed
at his face. Ready to face death from a bullet,
when he feels a heavy vice around his neck, an
arm around the baby, and then experiences complete
blackness.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


"I need you to tell me exactly what happened," the man says,
his tight voice betraying the false patience he is trying to
convey.

"I'll tell you like I done told all those other men,"
the nurse says, not even attempting to cover her lack
of patience.

"A man with a gun took the baby from me--the man who came
in with the baby's mother. Then another man with a gun
threatened the first man for the baby. Krychek, I think
he was called. But the man was not willing to hand the
baby over. He pulled his gun, too, and they just stood
like that, talking something about saving the world.
Then another man came out behind the first man, took him
in a deadlock, grabbed the baby and caused the other man
to pass out. Strangled him. Then this man handed the
baby over to the Krychek man and told him to get on his
way. Actually, he said, 'now go save the world and
leave my agents alone,' as I remember."

"And what did this man look like?"

"He was tall, broad shoulders. Muscular.
Bald, though, for the most part."

The questioner pauses, his eyes narrowing, then
he continues with his line of questioning.

"You said you told other men this story. What
other men are you talking about? You mean those
police officers over there?"

"Why no, Agent--what was it?"

"Doggett."

"No Agent Doggett. After the man left with the baby,
it wasn't two more minutes before there was a whole
swarm of men in here. Men in sunglasses and carrying
big guns. They stormed right past our security, and
wanted to know exactly where that baby was. Spoke
with some kind of accent. I told them just like I
told you, and they left out of here in a hurry."

Doggett nods, processing the information.

"Thank you for your help, ma'am."

"Yes sir," she replies, the regular tone of voice
returning. "Can I ask you something, though? What
was so special about that baby? What was so special
that got all those people carrying guns around and
trying to take it?"

Doggett shakes his head slowly.

"Nothing more special than any other baby," he responds
sadly. "Just somebody's little girl."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He awakens with a headache and a tightened throat. He
is in a hospital bed, with sun shining into the window
and onto his face. It takes a moment for the sun to clear
the fog from his head ad remind him what has just happened.
With the return of his memory comes full panic, and he
pulls himself quickly into a sitting position.

"Whoa there," the nurse he recognizes from the OR steps
over, pushing him down. "Where do you think you're
going, Agent Mulder, is it?"

"My. . .the baby. Scully. . ."

"The baby was taken from you, Agent. But you're not
contributing to the search any more than any of those
other hundred's of people who are out there looking,
so you might as well lay yourself down."

He sinks back down, resigned at her words. He'd known
it was inevitable; prepared himself for the loss, but
he still feels it deeper than he had thought possible.
His baby. Their baby. His and Scully's. Scully. . .

"My. . .the mother. The baby's mother." He pops
back up. "How is she? Did they. . . Is she. . .?"
he feels strong hands push him down again.

"The baby's mother is fine, thanks to you.
A minute or two longer getting her to the
hospital, and the doctor's couldn't have saved her.
She's resting now, but should be okay."

He relaxes somewhat, but does not find complete peace
with the news. Okay physically, he thinks. But what
will it do to her to loose another baby? How could he
have let this happen to her again?

He waits for the nurse to leave the room before slipping
his clothes on and slipping out of the door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Scully watches Mulder in his darkened apartment.
She is not sure where she is located to view him,
but it doesn't really matter. He is sitting on the
couch, pouring vodka into a shot glass. "I need. . .
a shot. Shot. Shot. A shot. . ." She doesn't find
it odd that she can hear his thoughts. "Shot. . ."
His eyes travel to the gun sitting next to his vodka
bottle. He places the shot glass down, and reaches for
the cold metal. Holds it in his hand. Plays with the
trigger. Points it at his head. . .

She awakens with a start, the image dissipating into
the white walls of a hospital room. She feels a hand
in hers when she awakens, but the further opening of
her groggy eyes reveal that it is Doggett sitting next
to her, not Mulder. She forces her eyes open and tries
to bring awake ness into her head.

"Mulder?" She asks it as a question. Encompassed in
it are other questions. Where is he? Is he ok? Did he
save our baby?

"He's fine, Agent Scully," Dogget's voice comforts.
But he is hiding something.

"The baby?"

He hesitates, and she knows the answer before he
says it, prepares herself for the sting, but feels
it all the same.

"We're looking," he says, trying to sound hopeful.
She nods at him, hoping to ease his burden of breaking
the news. She is surprised at the lack of depth of her
own pain. She is saddened, but not surprised. For
months she has been preparing herself for this loss,
and therefore finds it easy to push the pain deep inside her.

"Who was it?" she asks. "Krychek?"

Doggett nods. She feels an odd sense of pease at
knowing that it was Krychek and not the Russians.
That she believes Krychek's story is amazing,; that
she can find any peace knowing her baby is with him,
even more so.

A nurse enters the room somewhat nervously and motions
to Doggett. He leaves Scully's side and listens to
what she has to say with a worried face.

"What?" Scully asks at the nurse's shuffling exit.

"Nothing. Nothing important."

She looks into his eyes, beginning to question him
further, but then changes her mind.

"Tell me what happened," she requests. "Tell me
all you know about how they took the baby."

He hesitates at first, but then tells her what he
knows, what he has pieced together from questioning.
He marvels at the detachment through which she listens.

"So Mulder is in a hospital room?" she implores upon
the closing of his speaking.

He averts her eyes.

"No. That is what the nurse came to tell me.
Mulder left the hospital. He wouldn't allow them
to detain him."

She sits up in her bed, remembering her dream.

"I have to find him. I. . ." she tries to raise
all the way up, but finds Doggett pushing her down.

"Calm down, Agent. He's probably just looking for
the baby, like everyone else."

"No he's not. He knows it won't be found. He's
gone back to his apartment."

She struggles to free herself from his grasp.

"He feels responsible," she shouts. "He might
do something! You have to let me go to him!"

Her weakened state is no match for his strength.
He forces her down in the bed.

"You're in no state to leave this hospital." His
statement is a command. "I'll find him, Agent Scully.
I'll find him, okay? I'll find him and make sure he's
alright." Their eyes lock and he remembers an earlier
promise he made to her. I'll find him, Agent Scully,
also told to her when she was in a hospital bed. She
relaxes at his promise, but he becomes tense, only
hoping that this promise will have a better outcome.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Agent Mulder?" Doggett raps only twice on the door
before calling out. When there is no answer, he raps
again, this time four times, and loudly. "Agent Mulder!"
He remembers the worry in Scully's eyes when she implored
that he come here; remembers how he had to force her to
stay in her bed, and how she only listened to him because
he promised he would find Mulder himself. Find Mulder.
The phrase brings up unpleasant thoughts. That was a promise
he made long ago. The image of the body he had found on
his last search causes him to take action, instead of
waiting for a response to his banging. With a step back
and heavy kick, he forces his way into the apartment.

Inside it is dark, with only the lights from the fish
tank to illuminate the apartment. It takes a moment for
his eyes to adjust and focus. When they do, he finds
what he was looking for.

Mulder is sitting silently on his couch, apparently
un-phased by the grand entry into his apartment. His
eyes are red and unfocused, and he is holding a gun
in his hand that randomly sways around, at times
pointed in the direction of his own head.

"What the hell are you ding?!" Doggett doesn't wait
for a reply before striding across the room and jerking
the gun from Mulder's hand. The gun is remarkably easy
to capture. Mulder makes no effort to hang onto it,
and shows only slight signs that he has noticed it is
gone from his grasp. For the first time, Doggett
notices the open bottle of vodka sitting on the inn
table next to the couch. Open, but not empty.
Only enough gone to fill the full shot glass sitting
next to it. It would appear that the contents of
the vodka could not be responsible for the mental
state of the man sitting on the couch.

"What the hell are you doing?" Doggett repeats
the question, because he can think of nothing
else to say, not because he doesn't have an idea
of what is going on in Mulder's head.

Mulder shrugs, looking down and away from him,
then looking up and deep into his eyes.

"Making the world a better place," he says, in an
almost inaudible tone.

"If you think that killing yourself is going to make
Agent Scully's life easier, you better think again."
Doggett's eyes bore into Mulder's with an intensity
that causes the other man to turn away. "I saw
Scully when she thought you were a dead man, Agent
Mulder, and that's not something I want to see again.
She needs you right now, not another loss to deal with."

"She only needs me because she doesn't fully realize what
I've done." Mulder's eyes glance back up. "She'll
be happier not having to face me once she realizes
that it's my fault our baby was taken."

Doggett shakes his head in disgust, narrowing his
eyes at the man on the couch.

"Boy, you really are one selfish bastard, aren't you?"
he spits out into Mulder's face.
"Of all the self-pitying, self-centered acts to pull,
you sure picked a good time to disregard her needs
and wallow in your own sorrow. I don't care what
feelings of guilt you have right now, or what type
of sorry person you think you are, she needs you;
and for you to deprive her of that right now, just
because you aren't feeling good about yourself, is
the most disgusting, selfish thing you could do.
You're right to feel that way, Agent Mulder--she
deserves better than you. She deserves better than
that. But that doesn't really matter, because what
she wants is you." Doggett's words slap across
Mulder's face. His eyes become deeper and darker,
and he hangs his head.

"I'm going to forget I saw you in here holding a
gun to your head, and you're going to forget it too.
You get yourself together, throw away your self-pity,
and go to her, Agent Mulder. *Go* *to* *her*.
She needs you."

Without handing Mulder back his gun, Doggett
leaves the apartment, hopeful that he has accomplished
what he set out to do.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

end 2/3 Somebody's Child

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He turns away from the door three times before
finally completing the approach. When he does
enter, he does so with such care that she doesn't
even notice his presence at first She is staring
out of the window, her eyes lined with red and
slightly sunken into her face. He notices, though,
that there is no evidence of tears on her cheeks;
only evidence of those that she has held back. He
remains observing her only a step into the doorway,
determined to keep his distance and not allow himself
the comfort that touching her would provide.

It is the quiet presence of his breathing that
finally alerts her to his presence. She turns
quickly from the window, her red-rimmed eyes
widening at seeing him. For a moment she says
nothing, her surprise evident from the way her
lips part without moving. He says nothing either,
letting her take in this presence that is him.
He has determined not to share his burdens with
her, but does not realize that his red-rimmed
and slightly sunken in eyes mirror hers; that
she would not even need these clues to realize
his pain.

"Mulder?" she finally manages. The "is it really
you?" is not spoken, but implied from the way
she says his name. He says nothing, only
nodding slightly in conformation. Yes, I am
here. Yes, you can trust your eyes this time.
God, Scully, what have I put you through that
you no longer even trust your own eyes? Another
item to go on his list of wrong-doings to her.

"When they told me. . . When I found out. . ."
her voice breaks slightly, "I was worried that
you might. . ." Her lips begin to quiver, the
red around her eyes becoming more pronounced.
He wants to go to her, to hold her, but he holds
himself back, remembering his earlier decision not
to touch her.

She takes a deep breath, controlling the unwanted
trembling of her face, and turns to look directly
into his haunted eyes. "I thought I might have lost
you again," she says quietly, her voice betraying her
and breaking at the end. She then turns towards the
window, unable to let him see the tears that threaten
to fall. She has cried so many times in front of so
many people in the last nine months, and yet now, she
is unable to let this man see her tears. Adding to
his burdens is not something she wants to do. She meant
to call him here to comfort him, not the other way around.

He has determined not to allow himself to touch her,
yet in five short strides he is across the room and
next to her. This is not for him, he tells himself;
it is what she needs. He sinks down onto her bed,
softly, so as not to disturb her, and with a
feather-light touch on her far cheek, turns her
face towards him.

Upon looking at him she loses her resolve not to cry
in front of him, and her face dissolves into a crinkled
mass of tears. With his other arm, he pulls her into
him, and her arms find their place around his back.
The sobs that she has been holding in for hours rack
her body, as she buries her face deeper into his chest,
finally finding the security she has needed to release
herself. He feels his eyes become wet, but continues
looking ahead to blurry walls, his only motion being to
press her body against him and lightly run his fingers
through her hair, separating each blade with the care he
would use to stroke a butterfly.

His shirt grows wet and his chest grows warm before
her body finally ceases to rack with sobs.
She breathes into him, several deep breaths, and
nestles her head deeper into his body. Finally
comforted, she realizes she has not accomplished
what she wanted; that Mulder's pain is still a heavy
presence she has failed to remove. With a heavy sigh,
she forces herself away from him, pulling her body up
so she is level with his face.

"I know what happened Mulder," she says softly,
watching for his reaction. He still says nothing,
the expression on his face remaining one of pain and
sorrow.

"When they told me the baby was gone, I was. . ." she
glances away for a moment, "upset." She looks back at
him, feeling the pain that even this word has given him.
"But Mulder, all I could think about was you. I cared
about this. . .this life, that had been growing inside
of me, but none of that mattered if you weren't here.
I was worried that you might do something. . .that you
might blame yourself." Her voice becomes a whisper.
"That I would lose you again."

His eyes turn away from her, unable to comprehend
that she could be more worried about him then about
losing her baby. That she still wants to be with him,
when she knows what happened.

"You have to know I don't blame you, Mulder."

"I brought you here. Against your will."
he finally speaks, his voice rough, and quiet.

"You saved my life, Mulder. How could I blame
you for that?"

"But without your permission. And at the cost of
your baby." He still doesn't look at her, only looking
ahead to the blurry walls. She shakes her head at him,
forcing a small smile.

"I'm glad I'm alive, Mulder." This brings his eyes back
to her for a moment, before he looks away again.

"It wasn't your fault," she says, carefully pronouncing
each word, as if this will help him to accept the truth
of her statement. He continues to look away, not agreeing
with her but resolving not to argue, not allowing himself
the comfort she would give his self-pity.

"I know you don't blame me for this, Mulder; and
just like there's nothing I could have done,
there's nothing you could have done,either.
Nothing any of us could have done would have
stopped them. Nothing." She mimics his earlier touch,
her hand lightly touching his cheek.

"It wasn't your fault," she repeats. At this,
his head drops, giving him a clear view of the
bed and averting the view of her face. Her
fingers move from his face to his hair, running
through it and pulling his head closer to her body.

The bed becomes blurry. He pulls against her hand
for a moment, causing it to slide down to his neck,
and looks up intently into her eyes.

"They took our baby," he says with great conviction;
because right now, that is all he knows. That,
and that Scully is here, and wants him to be here
also. "They took. . .his head drops again as he
feels his lips tremble, "our baby." Her hand
back in his hair, she pulls his dropped head into
her chest.

"I know," she says softly, wrapping her arms
around his now shaking back, and folding her body
around him in an effort to control the shaking
of his body. Her shirt becomes wet with his tears
as she pulls him into her, resting her head on his
back.

Our baby, he said. The irony of the fact that
he finally accepted this life as his too, only
after it was taken, does not escape her. She
is overcome with a great feeling of sadness,
for the first time fully feeling the loss they
have suffered. But oddly, from this feeling
she also finds an aura of peace. Their baby
is gone, but he is back, they are together,
and right now, she can find comfort in that fact.

***
Two weeks later. . .

"Sir?" A petite red-head with a business suit
peeks into the office of the assistant director.

"Agent Scully?" The man sitting behind the desk
looks up with concern. "You shouldn't be back at
work yet."

His voice is commanding, yet she senses his
discomfort in the way he averts her eyes.

"No sir." She steps closer to his desk. "I
just wanted to come in to talk to you."

He shuffles through papers on his desk,
avoiding any eye-contact. She steps all
the way over to him and places her hand over
his, stopping their motion.

"I haven't gotten a chance to thank you."

Her words bring surprise into his eyes,
which finally glance up to meet hers. He
cocks his head in a questioning motion, and
then shakes it slowly, his eyes returning to
the papers.

"I know what you did, she says slowly.
"And what you did, saved Agent Mulder's life."

"I don't know what you're talking about,"
he says, still looking away.

"If you hadn't handed the baby over, Krychek
would have certainly shot Mulder," she says with
conviction. "And if Mulder had been forced to hand
the baby over without being shot, he never would have
been able to live with the guilt. Either way, you
saved his life." She squeezes his hand. "My only
regret is that you have taken the guilt on yourself."

He looks up at her face.

"How do you know I did what I did to save Mulder?
How do you know I wasn't acting on some threat from
Krychek or allegiance to his cause?"

Scully nods her head, pursing her lips for a moment.

"You may not know, yourself, the answer to that.
You may doubt the reason you did what you did.
But I know that you did it to save Mulder. To
save both of us. I know that because all of the
manipulation you have accepted has been not to save
yourself but to protect us. And I want you to know
that I know that. That I have a greater appreciation
for that than I can express. Thank you."

He nods in time with her own head. For a moment he
is silent, thinking.

"I don't know if it will give you comfort in knowing,
but as of today, the government has implemented a
regulation that all employees must be given a vaccine
for a new flu strain that is going around. Many
businesses and schools have adopted the same policies.
Mass innocculations are starting tomorrow, and will
be offered to the public free of chare."

Her eyebrows raise and she feels a strange sadness.

"Thank you," she says quietly, and leaves the office.

***

"The vaccine has already been developed and is being
passed out," she says matter-of factly when Mulder
enters her apartment.

"The gunmen told me the news," His voice is carefully
detached. "I went by to thank them for getting Skinner
to the hospital so quickly to protect you."

"How did they know where we were?" she asks.
She had thought due to Skinner's speech that he
was there with Krychek. Apparently he had come
with a different group of friends.

"I dialed them after the ambulance and left the
phone off the hook. They traced the call and pieced
together the story. Kidnapped Skinner within a matter
of minutes and were to the hospital in under half the
time it should have taken them. They tried to follow
Krychek out of the hospital, but said he vanished
into thin air. Literally." He stops talking for a
moment, examining her face before continuing.
"It was smart of us to station so close to them,
I think." There is a tentative smile on his lips.
She nods in agreement. She has not told Mulder
about Skinner's involvement; doesn't think it is
something he needs to know. He may not understand the
act as she does.

"She really did save the world, Mulder," Scully says
softly, speaking of their baby. He was trying to
lead away from the subject, but the truth no longer
needs to be avoided. Krychek was not lying. Their
sacrifice has kept the world safe from invasion.

Mulder nods, moving over to where she sits. She
looks sad, he thinks, but not altogether broken.
Not completely lost, as he had felt only weeks ago.
He takes her hand and sits next to her.

"*We* saved the world Scully. And it only took
us eight years to do it" She smiles lightly
at this and allows him to draw her close. The doctor
has told her that she can bare more children. That
in some bizarre, miraculous way, her reproductive
system has repaired itself. That whenever
she is ready, she can have a child that will not have
to give its life to save the world from alien colonization.
Whenever *they* are ready, she corrects herself. She will
tell Mulder this soon. But right now she wants nothing
more than to be right here, held close by the man that
will always be their baby's father.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
end

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