Title: Losing Everything
Author: Deathstryke
Written: December 2000
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Gee, that's tough. Post Colonization, X-Files/ER/Other Crossover, MSR, Sk/O, slash
Spoilers: Everything up to Without for X-Files, up to last season's finale for ER
Disclaimers: None of these characters belong to me. They have been borrowed for my personal gratification and no money will be made from their use. So please don't sue me. This story contains graphic consensual sexual activities between members of the same sex. Proceed with caution, and find something else to read if you are under 17.
Feedback: Please! Buddhaxds@hotmail.com
Archive: Yes. If you don't mind, let me know where.

Notes: to Sheri. Death shall not part; only lack of love.

Many thanks to Vyper and Squirrel for beta and support, and I Want To Believe

And Crystal Shippers for hand-holding and feedback. Extra special thanks to WP Admirer for being an incredible writer. Happy Birthday Sheri, my Starlight friend.

February 18th, 2001

John Carter leaned against the rough brick wall opposite the ambulance bay smoking a cigarette.

He'd been on duty 36 hours now, and he was exhausted beyond words. Caffeine, nicotine and adrenaline were the only things keeping him upright. He couldn't even remember what city he was in. The war had made the need for medical personnel so great that John was not only working full time at Cook County General in Chicago but was also working part time at Georgetown Memorial on their trauma team. He'd taken the job not for the money but to be closer to Walter. God how he missed Walter.

John had always wondered what Walter was so involved in that people actually wanted him dead. Naturally as an Assistant Director of the FBI there were matters of national security he couldn't discuss even with John. But from John's own experiences with Alex Krycek and what little he had gleaned from Mulder, John knew it went much deeper than that. He tried not to pry, but he'd never been able to hide the fact that he feared every day for Walter's life.

And then on June 22, 2000 the world had been turned upside down. Aliens. If someone had told John three years ago aliens were trying to colonize the earth he would have died laughing. Not so today. A lifetime of science fiction movies had become all too real on that day. Massive saucer-shaped ships containing roughly three million aliens had materialized out of nowhere over the world's major cities. And that was just the first wave of invasion. John remembered it as if it were yesterday. The phone had rung at two a.m.; Fox Mulder's call jarring him and Walter from their sleep. They had rushed to the balcony of Walter's DC townhouse to witness the ship hovering over the city, swallowing the moon and stars behind its massive bulk.

Shortly thereafter the disappearances began. Prominent scientists, politicians, and other government employees seemingly vanished. John swallowed the lump in his throat and took another drag off of his cigarette as he remembered the day four months ago he had come home to find Walter gone. There were signs of struggle in the townhouse; broken lamps and an overturned end table, and the clip of Walter's service weapon had been discharged and the bullets were imbedded in the walls. The FBI said they were doing everything possible to find Walter, but John believed they were completely under the control of the aliens and the humans who had conspired to help them.

The only people he really believed were looking for Walter were Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. They worked day and night trying to find out what was being done with the missing people. Moira was only six weeks old and Scully hadn't taken a second of maternity leave. She'd checked herself and Moira out of the hospital AMA just 12 hours after the birth and gone right back to work.

Moira Mulder had worked her way into John's heart in a way he never would have imagined. His heart ached that Walter had yet to see her. John and Walter were her godfathers, and John often babysat when Mulder and Scully were out of town. John often playfully argued with Margaret Scully over whose turn it was to keep Moira. For the first time in his life John thought he liked the idea of being a father one day.

His grief weighed heavily in his chest. He missed Walter so much. He was terrified of what was being done to him. He knew all too well what had been done to both Mulder, Scully and Walter himself at the hands of Alex Krycek. Not to mention the fact that Krycek had beat John himself to a bloody pulp a few years ago. His ribs still ached when the barometric pressure dropped. He was a human storm indicator.

He shook himself back to alertness and threw down the cigarette butt. Dave Malucci stuck his head outside the double doors of the ambulance bay. "You gonna join us Dr. Carter? I think that guy in curtain three's central line is infected."

"Yeah," John said, following Dave back inside.

At the end of his shift John couldn't stand the thought of going home. Kerry was still working and the house would be so quiet and lonely. He was flying into DC in the morning, and at least he would get to sleep in Walter's bed and smell his cologne on the pillows for a couple of days. He'd even snagged one of the pillows and brought it back to Chicago with him. It was tear stained now, being the lone silent witness to John's grief late in the night.

It had been hard enough for John to accept that he was gay. But accepting that he was madly in love with Walter Skinner and wanted to spend the rest of his life with him had been another thing entirely. John hadn't seen a lifetime relationship in his future. But for two years now he had worn the gold band Walter had put on his finger on Christmas Eve of 1999 and had gladly accepted the commitment that went along with it. Right before the invasion they had been shopping for a house in DC. That in itself had been a massive step in their relationship. In Chicago they were completely open with John's friends and family about their relationship, but in DC only Mulder and Scully knew that Walter was gay. John had taken the job at Georgetown trying to get his foot in the door for a full time job so he could make the move. He had completed his residency and was qualified to take an attending trauma position.

When the EL screeched to a stop in front of him John didn't get on. He briefly considered having dinner at Doc Magoo's, but decided against it. He walked absentmindedly a couple of blocks in the blustery dark night. It was only 8 o'clock and it would be a long night alone. He wandered around until he came upon a bar. The golden glow of the lighting inside was warm and inviting. John decided a hefty glass of brandy sounded like a good idea.

He stepped inside the bar and was swallowed by its warmth. The brass fixtures gleamed against the oak bar and booths. Soft jazz music was playing over the speakers. Walter would really like this place, he thought with an ache in his heart. Oh yeah, he definitely needed that brandy.

John sat down at the bar and ordered his drink. He drained the first snifter quickly, savoring only the burn of the alcohol going down his throat. He lit a cigarette and ordered another drink. He sat lost in his thoughts for a long time. Finally he noticed that a man at the other end of the bar was looking at him rather intently. The man was handsome-probably in his mid thirties with chestnut hair and dark eyes. John wondered if the guy was summing him up too.

John, you stupid asshole, he scolded himself. How can you even think about another man when Walter is God-knows-where having God-knows-what done to him. You are one sick piece of work, Carter.

John's heart dropped into his stomach when the man got up from his seat and came and sat down right next to him. "Hi, I'm Kyle."

"John Carter," John responded, extending his hand to shake the other man's. His hands were warm and soft, his grip firm and reassuring. The collar of John's shirt suddenly felt too tight.

"Can I buy you another drink, John?" Kyle asked, his voice warm and deep. John felt himself blushing down to the tip of his toes. He'd never had another man hit on him. Even his relationship with Walter hadn't started this way.

"Yeah, sure," John answered. Maybe he had this all wrong. It's not like he had a sign on his head that said he was gay. He was even wearing a wedding ring; the one Walter had given him. But he still felt awful, like he was doing something terrible.

"Another Brandy for Mr. Carter and I'll have a neat scotch, Kyle said to the bartender. The bartender nodded and went about preparing their drinks.

John found his voice didn't work anymore. Was he supposed to be making small talk? Should he blurt out loud here at the bar that he was gay but in a committed relationship? He wanted to sink into the floor and die. It didn't help that the other man's warm brown eyes and muscular build made John weak in the knees.

"So how is the doctor business?" Kyle asked, and John wondered how he knew he was a doctor for a fleeting moment before realizing he was still wearing his ID badge and his stethoscope around his neck. With a peevish smile he removed them both and stowed them in his leather attach bag, a gift from Walter on his 30th birthday.

"Not too bad. A lot busier since the war started. Apparently there isn't enough violence in the world and people still feel the need to shoot and stab each other on a regular basis."

"I'll bet. They're angry and they only have each other to lash out at."

John shrugged. "Maybe. So what do you do for a living?"

"My father was Nathan Bates. I have quite the inheritance to live off of, so I guess you could say at this point I'm just a volunteer rabble-rouser."

John's grandfather had had business dealings with Nathan Bates and his vast holdings. He was based in Los Angeles, but John had seen his name in enough business journals laying around the family mansion to know he was as wealthy and powerful as his grandfather in his own right.

"Ah, so we're both spoiled rich kids. My grandfather is the John Carter of Chicago," John said, amused at the irony of this clandestine meeting. Maybe he could just have a drink and a nice conversation with this guy after all. It would be so much better than going back to the empty house, making his requisite check in with Scully to find out there was still no news and then crying himself to sleep.

Kyle grinned, flashing pearly white teeth behind sensual lips. It was a warm and inviting smile. John felt the lump rise in his throat again. He ordered another drink, hoping the brandy would numb the ache in his heart and do away with the twinge he was starting to feel in his khaki chinos. It has been so long since he'd felt the warmth and heat of Walter's body pressed against him, or felt his powerful arms around him as they made love. Maybe this had been a bad idea after all.

They talked for hours, sitting at the bar discussing medicine and sports and world politics. John had a few too many brandies and his tongue loosened easily with this man that was so easy to talk to. Around two a.m., as the bartender called for last call before closing, John finally asked. "So what are you doing here alone in the middle of the night?"

Kyle speared him with those deep rich brown eyes. "I'm not alone, Dr. Carter. I'm spending a very pleasant evening with you. But that's not what you meant. Yes, I'm single. My wife died two years ago. I come here whenever I'm in town on business, and I was just too lonely to spend the night watching TV in my hotel room."

John laughed with relief, running his left hand through his shaggy brown locks. "Jesus, I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing about your wife. I think I'm drunk. I don't go out very often."

"I see you're wearing a wedding ring though. Where is Mrs. Dr. Carter?"

John sobered, inhaling sharply. "There isn't one. The ring...the ring is more of a symbol. My partner, Walter...he's in the FBI. He's been missing since around Thanksgiving."

Kyle looked down into his glass, analyzing the brown liquid a little too intently. "You must miss him very much."

"Oh god," John strangled on the words, feeling tears well up behind his lashes. "Yeah, we've been together a long time. We were gonna buy a house. I don't think he's ever coming back," John admitted. "Look, I have to get out of here..." he grabbed his coat and bag and dashed out the door.

The cold morning air knifed into him. He dropped his bag so he could put on his coat. As he bent over the door to the bar opened and Kyle came out. John had never been so embarrassed in his life. Kyle pulled John upright and gently pushed him up against the brick wall, taking his head between his hands and kissing him deep and thoroughly.

The kiss went straight from John's head to toes and bounced back, landing in his groin. The other man plundered his mouth with his tongue, running his long fingers through John's hair. Instinctively John grabbed his hips and pulled him closer, moaning into his mouth. When their lips finally parted John was grateful for the brick wall holding him up. Kyle leaned into to claim John's mouth again, but John pushed him away.

"I thought you said you had been married," he gasped, trying to will his erection away.

Kyle smiled gently, pulling John close. "I was. Just because I loved a woman doesn't mean I can't be attracted to men too. There has never been another woman after Elizabeth. She was the love of my life and I haven't felt the same way about women since I lost her. We're you never attracted to women at all?"

"Yes, of course. Walter was the first." John flushed deeply "Walter is the only man I have ever been with. I had no idea I could be attracted to men before him." How could he explain it? It hadn't been about sex. He'd loved Walter from the first hour they spent together. Walter Skinner's gruff and sometimes overly abrupt professional mannerisms had hidden a deeply passionate and caring man. It was a true marriage of souls. A partnership John had thought would last the rest of his life. He felt tears start to trickle down his cheeks.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," he chanted, balling his fists up to his eyes to conceal his tears. "I miss him so much. Kyle, I can't do this. I'm sorry... I was just lonely. I miss him so fucking much."

Kyle put his arms around John, pulling the other man's head to his shoulder. Much as Walter had done the first time they were together. "Shhh, John, it's okay. I know how it feels. You feel guilty for being attracted to someone else. You feel like you are betraying the person you love. But we're healthy young men and we can't control our hormones, just what we do about them. Walter wouldn't be angry at you."

An image of Walter filled John's mind. Naked on a Sunday morning, spread out on the bed with John, sharing kisses and small touches while doing the crossword puzzle in the New York Times. Whoever got the most right got to top the other one. It had been their Sunday morning ritual for almost two years. John almost sobbed again at the idea of waking up alone the next day, on Sunday. He'd go to work and he'd go through the motions of giving a shit about his life when it wasn't true anymore.

Before he realized what was happening Kyle was kissing him again, his lips warm and soft. It was a chaste kiss, both of their mouths closed and a respectable distance between their bodies.

Kyle's cheeks were flushed and his breath came in short bursts, like white clouds in the cold air. "Come back to the hotel with me John. I don't want to be alone. I don't think you do either. Just two widowers comforting each other."

The word widower was like a blow to the solar plexus for John. "Walter is not dead. We'll find him. He has to be okay. He just has to be. We have a goddaughter, and we're going to buy a house. I'm going to move to DC with him. We're going to spend the rest of our lives together." The words sounded hollow even to John. None of the people who had mysteriously disappeared from their homes or places of work had been found. Not a single one. He knew Mulder and Scully would never give up on Walter, would never give up for his sake, but he knew in his heart of hearts that Walter was gone. He'd known for months, but couldn't bring himself to even think it. To say the words, even to Mulder or Scully, would be to commit him to the grief he'd held back for months with the dim hope that all of this was just a bad dream.

He nodded mutely to Kyle. Suddenly the idea of being alone was absolutely terrifying. He felt on the verge of a panic attack. He let himself be led by the hand to Kyle's car and got in the passenger seat, feeling claustrophobic in the confines of the blue Lexus. They were both silent as Kyle steered the car out of the parking lot. John didn't want to ask to smoke in the other man's car, but he needed something to do with his hands. So he rummaged in the console organizer, plundering Kyle's compact disc collection. He found one by the Dave Matthew's Band and smiled.

"Want me to put it in?" Kyle asked, taking the cd case and messing with the stereo with one hand while driving with the other. Soon Dave Matthews mellow voice filled the car and John relaxed a bit.

"This is my favorite band," he said to Kyle, humming tunelessly along with the song.

Kyle raised an eyebrow in his direction in an expression that reminded John of Dana Scully. One subtle move of that woman's eyebrow and you knew if she wanted to hug you or shoot you. "So which is your favorite song?" Kyle asked.

"Warehouse, definitely," John answered, grateful for something to converse with the other man about.

"Oh, c'mon man, Dancing Nancies or Don't Drink the Water is definitely the best," Kyle protested.

"Sure, whatever you say," John replied, going along with the banter. "You obviously didn't see him perform Warehouse live with John Hopper at the House of Blues."

"I most certainly did and I still think Dancing Nancies is better. Come to think of it, there isn't a song by them I don't like."

They kept up the lighthearted conversation all the way to the hotel. As they pulled into the parking space John felt his heart pounding again. This is how it had all started with Walter; a sexless conversation in a hotel room that had turned into the three most wonderful years of his life. His heart ached with the memories of their first time together, the gentle and tender way Walter had taken hold of John's body and tattered heart and mended them under his loving ministrations.

It hadn't been perfect, but no relationship was. John's attack at the hands of a patient, his subsequent drug addiction and Mulder's disappearance had all converged nearly simultaneously, making for many arguments and tears and strain between them. The strain in their lives that Summer had almost ended their relationship. But they had held onto each other and held on, coming through all the stronger for their trials.

"John, are you alright?" Kyle asked, pulling John back from that place in his heart that belonged only to Walter.

"Yeah, I'm okay," John said decisively, getting out of the car and following Kyle into the lobby.

They rode silently in the elevator up to Kyle's room, John fighting to control his surging heartbeat and sweaty palms. He felt like a teenager again, and hating feeling so childish and unsophisticated. He'd have thought by the age of thirty-one he would recognize whether he was being seduced or not. Kyle was about his height, slender and narrow-hipped with a firm athletic physique. It wasn't the body of someone who lifted weights as had been Walter's favorite exercise, but more the body of a runner or swimmer. John knew that when Mulder was stressed out or seeking some elusive answer in a case he would often run until he dropped and then run some more. He wondered vaguely if Kyle did the same.

Kyle slipped his pass card through the electronic lock and opened the door for John to enter. John dropped his coat and bag by the door and felt a surge of relief that the room was a suite and had a couch and two chairs instead of just a bed. John sat down in one of the chairs and Kyle retrieved two small bottles of malt whiskey from the refrigerator, pouring them both into glasses. He handed John a glass and sat down in the chair across from him. "Tell me about your Walter," he said firmly, eyes intent on John as he sipped his drink.

John had had enough to drink that he didn't even feel the whiskey slide down his throat. He began to speak, telling Kyle how he met Walter in a Chicago restaurant after causing him to spill his drink. The words and his tears flowed as he told Kyle about his months in an Atlanta rehab clinic after becoming addicted to painkillers after being stabbed, and how Walter had nursed his wounded heart through his profound guilt that his coworker Lucy had died during the same attack. He told him about the day he came home and found the townhouse destroyed and Walter gone. He showed him a picture of Moira Mulder and shared that she was the only bright spot left in his life. He ended with the news he had gotten earlier in the week that the FBI planned to close the file and declare the case unsolved.

Kyle watched the other man pour out his story and his tears. He suspected John Carter had needed to do this for some time. He remembered holding in his own grief and pain when Elizabeth died. Her death had been so sudden and he'd remained in a state of shock until one day Juliet Parrish had finally come out and asked him if he ever planned to start living again. He'd cried for a month after that, but when the month was over he had begun living again, and finally figured out that enjoying life was not a desecration of Elizabeth's memory, but instead honored it. She would have wanted him to be happy, even if he would never again be happy in the arms of a woman. He hoped John Carter figured all of this out sooner than he had.

Finally John was all cried out. The sun was coming up, presenting a clear and picturesque sunrise through the curtains. John's eyes were red and gritty and his voice nearly gone. He was shaking all over. Kyle had sat calmly and listened as John cried and shouted, ranted and raved and spilled his pain at the altar of Kyle's sympathetic heart. John hung his head, feeling dizzy and empty, floating alone in his pain and grief. Kyle rose silently from his chair and kneeled down in front of him.

"John, take it from someone who's been there. As much as that hurt you needed it. And you'll do it again and again until one day you wake up and you find that instead of feeling pain when you think about Walter you feel happy with your memories of him. Don't hold yourself back, especially when you have friends like the ones you told me about to be there for you. The longer you hold this in the worse it will be when it comes out. Let your grief come just like your love did, and one day the world won't seem so bleak. I promise you that."

He took one finger and trailed it gently down John's face, following the trail of an errant tear that had escaped from John's pained brown eyes. He cupped the back of John's head gently and reached up to brush a tender kiss upon his lips. John found himself responding with desperation, needing to be held like he needed air. He wrapped his arms around Kyle's shoulders, deepening the kiss until they were both breathless.

John pulled Kyle closer, wanting to feel the warmth of the other man's skin against his own, to feel wanted and alive again for the first time in months. He needed to remember that there was something left in a world that did not include Walter to live for. He felt his erection straining against his pants and realized he was just happy to feel something, anything, besides the leaden grief that had weighed down his heart soul and body since the day Walter disappeared.

He slid out of the chair so he was face to face with the man. He slid his tongue along Kyle's ear and enjoyed the gasp of pleasure he elicited from the other man. Emboldened, he kissed Kyle's neck, feeling the rasp of unshaven neck against his tongue. Kyle smelled of some deep earthy cologne and whiskey-definitely not an unpleasant combination.

John was startled when Kyle pulled away and abruptly stood. John raised himself up to face him, looking him squarely in the eye, as they were almost the exact same height. He searched Kyle's face for some clue as to what he had done wrong, but saw only lips swollen with his kisses and brown eyes alive with passion. He reached out to put his hand against the man's cheek, but Kyle jerked away.

"I'm not going to do this," he answered John's questioning gaze. "I like you, John. I think I could like you a lot, and I'm not going to have a one-night stand with you and never see you again. I don't think that's what either one of us needs right now. Having sex with me is not going to make you hurt any less for Walter. But if you want, I'll still be around when you're ready to make love to me without thinking of him."

John rubbed his hands over his face, feeling his erection wilt and his voice catch in his throat. "Kyle, I like you too. But I can't tell you that I'll ever stop thinking of him. You don't understand. I love him. I always will. Can't you just take what I have to offer?"

Kyle put his hands on John's shoulders; leaning in close enough that John could feel his warm breath on his cheek. "I don't expect you to stop thinking about him. You never will. And you'll always love him. But I won't be a substitute for him. I'll be your friend, but I won't be your lover when your kissing me but closing your eyes and wishing it was him."

John pulled away. "Okay, fine, whatever you say. I can't stay. I promised Mulder and Dana I would fly into DC today."

An unreadable expression passed over Kyle's face. "Mulder?"

"Yeah, Fox Mulder and his wife Dana. They're the friends of mine in DC I told you about. They worked with Walter. Why?"

"Name just sounded vaguely familiar. That's all."

John picked up his coat and bag, opening the door. Kyle caught him by the wrist. "Are you even going to give me your phone number?"

John still felt stung by Kyle's rejection and embarrassed at his obviously unwanted sexual advances. "If you really want to call me the number's in the book under Dr. Kerry Weaver."

John tried to pull away but Kyle didn't let go. "Can I call you in DC? How long will you be gone?"

John put down his things and took a pen and a receipt from a gas station from his coat pocket and scribbled down his cell phone number. "I'll be back Tuesday. I have another 36 hour shift starting at midnight."

Kyle hugged him tightly before John could put his coat on. "You're not just walking out of here John. I'll definitely call. Are you gonna be okay getting home?"

"Yeah, I'll call a cab from the lobby. Nothing personal, but I just need to get out of here. I need to think." He turned and walked out the door, feeling Kyle's eyes follow him all the way to the elevator.

John went home and grabbed a fitful forty-five minute nap before catching his plane to DC. He slept on the brief plane ride but still felt like hell when they landed. He was hung over and his head was pounding. He hadn't eaten in about 24 hours and he would have sold his right arm for a roll of Tums. He stopped in shop in the airport and settled for a bottle of Pepto-Bismol, drinking the whole thing in the bathroom so Dana wouldn't see it and question him when she picked him up.

He found her waiting at the baggage claim area, baby Moira snuggled close to her in a sling. Dana smiled to see her friend, and then frowned when he got close enough for her to see the bloodshot eyes and haggard appearance. He looked even thinner than when last she'd seen him just two weeks ago.

"John are you alright? Have you been sick or something?" she asked with concern.

John hated to see the look of worry in her blue eyes. She had enough to worry about with him adding to her burden. He wanted so much to spill his guts and tell her everything. She would be understanding and objective and give him an honest unbiased opinion; but he couldn't bring himself to admit that he'd almost been unfaithful to Walter. And in his mind that's exactly what had happened.

"No, I'm just exhausted. They're killing me at County, we're so slammed with traumas. I'm so glad to be here and see my little princess." He grinned and tickled Moira under her dimpled chin. She gurgled happily and grabbed for his finger. John planted a warm kiss on the thin wisp of strawberry blonde hair on the top of her head. She smelled of baby shampoo and powder and just the sight of her lifted John's spirits. "Let's go back to your place so me and Moira can hang out together."

Dana laughed, fascinated and bemused by the young doctor's besotted love of her six-week-old daughter. Moira had reduced every man in her life, including her father, to a cooing pile of silliness. The men were just as entertaining as the baby.

John dozed on the drive to Mulder and Scully's Alexandria apartment, causing Dana to worry even more. Something was obviously wrong with John, and she was going to pry it out of him if she had to do it with a pair of needle-nosed pliers.

At the apartment she fixed brunch while John and Mulder watched a basketball game, stopping occasionally to tickle and coo at Moira who sat contentedly in her bouncy seat. John finally got up the nerve to ask Mulder while Scully was out of earshot.

"Do you happen to know anything about Nathan Bates?"

Mulder fixed an inquisitive gaze on his friend. "Actually, I know an awful lot about him. First off, he's dead. He died about 4 years ago. When he was alive he had enough money and power to keep the California senate in his back pocket. His medical holdings, Science Frontiers, have patented more genes than any other single company on the planet. So why do you want to know about him?"

John shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "Someone mentioned him at work yesterday and I recognized the name but didn't know anything about him." His face flushed and he had a sneaking suspicion Mulder didn't believe him. He was grateful when Dana interrupted the conversation by entering the room with a tray piled with omelets and croissants.

John ate with enthusiasm, the burning sensation in his stomach finally going away. After his appetite was sated he found himself growing sleepy again.

When he awoke the room was quiet and the sun was going down. Someone had thrown a blanket over him. Dana was sitting at her desk across the room, working at her laptop with the light of a single small lamp. When John sat up she smiled gently.

"Hey there Sleepyhead, how are you?"

"Better, wow, I can't believe I just passed out like that. I'm really sorry Dana. What great company I am. Where's Mulder?"

Scully shut the laptop and came over to sit on the sofa beside John. "He took Moira and went to the deli to get something for dinner. Now, tell me what the hell's wrong with you or I'll beat you senseless and make you tell me anyway." She fixed those penetrating blue eyes on him and John felt his defenses melt. Dana Scully and Kerry Weaver were the only two women in the world who could give him the look and make him feel like his heart was laid bare before them.

"I met somebody last night. Just this really nice guy and we talked for hours and we have a lot in common. I kissed him and I feel like shit for it. And worst of all is I wanted to do more than kiss him, but every time I closed my eyes I saw Walter's face and just wished I was dead." He felt tears of shame and sadness welling in his eyes. Jesus Christ, when had he turned into such a fucking wimp? He had been crying at the drop of a hat lately.

Dana put her hand on his leg, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "Walter's been gone quite a while now John," she spoke quietly, measuring her words carefully. "I think it's perfectly normal for you to be lonely and want comfort. You shouldn't beat yourself up for being attracted to someone. You're in pain and you've been through a lot."

"But you didn't give up on Mulder when he was missing. He was gone seven months and you never gave up hope."

"John, that was different. We had evidence that they wanted Mulder alive, and I just knew, knew with everything in me that he was coming back. Just like you know if you admit it to yourself that Walter probably isn't going to be found alive."

Her words were an arrow in his heart. He looked at her, her eyes warm and sympathetic, and her expression sad but resigned. "Do you really think that Dana? Do you really think he's not coming back?"

She sighed heavily. "John, for a long time I believed that that many people could not simply vanish without us finding some evidence of what happened to them. But over the months we've seen what the aliens are capable of, and it is within their power to make thousands of people vanish without a trace. They've systematically removed key people from governments all over the planet, and I now believe they took Walter because of his public opposition to Spender and his Syndicate. But when Mulder looks for someone he doesn't stop until he finds a body. He never stopped looking for Samantha, and he'll never stop looking for Skinner. But I'll be honest with you and tell you that I don't think he's coming back. I think he's probably dead."

John knew she was right. The pain of this revelation was more than he could hold inside him and his body heaved with sobs. Dana put her arm around him and held him while he cried and babbled incoherently that it couldn't be true. His mind raced with images of Walter smiling down at him, holding him in his powerful arms and loving him in a hundred different ways both physical and spiritual. He remembered the crisp scent of his cologne and starched shirts and all the times he'd peeled away those shirts to make love to the man who wore them. He remembered the sound of Walter's voice whispering words of passion in his ear as they caressed one another. The pain of trying to believe he would never experience those things again made John dizzy.

He jumped up and paced the floor, raking his hands through his hair. There was nothing for him if Walter was gone. The ache of realization and loss was so visceral that John felt physically ill. He ran to the bathroom and hung over the toilet with a split second to spare before the taste of bile rose to the back of his throat and he vomited. Dana ran to his side, offering him a cool damp washcloth to clean himself with. When he stood she wrapped her arms around him, her eyes gleaming with tears.

"Oh John, I am so sorry. I know it hurts. He loved you John. I knew him for almost ten years and his time with you was the happiest I ever saw him. I know he was glad he shared his life with you."

John accepted the embrace and clung to Dana's small frame, feeling as though a hole had opened underneath him and was about to swallow him whole. "Dana, how the hell do I keep going without him?"

"The same way you have the last four months, John. Just remember him, and love him, and know that one day it won't hurt so much. You just have to get up every morning and open your eyes and keep surviving until one day you realize you're living, not just surviving."

It struck John that Kyle had said much the same thing to him last night. Dana had lost so much too. Her sister, her father, and the months of agony after Mulder's disappearance had made her an expert on coping with loss. He felt selfish suddenly; acting as if he were the first person in the world to lose someone he loved. The alien colonization had touched everyone and cost many people husbands, wives, parents and children.

John wiped his eyes, trying to smile. "Jesus, I've practically turned into a fucking drama queen the last few months. I thought guys had some gene that kept us from crying like we were in some goddamn hallmark commercial."

Dana gave a small laugh and kissed John soundly on his tear stained cheek. "It's Moira, she's turned all of you into baby-talking, walking Kleenex ads. Even Frohike likes to play with her."

As if on cue the front door opened and Mulder called, "Hey, where is everybody?"

John and Dana went back to the living room, Dana relieving Mulder of the baby and John helping him with the grocery bags. Mulder noticed John's pale, mottled appearance but kept silence, sharing only a silent exchange of body language with his wife that told him to leave the subject dropped.

John helped Mulder unpack the sandwiches and salads from the deli and put them on plates. He poured himself and Dana glasses of iced tea and brought her plate to the living room, sitting them down on the table next to the couch. She attempted to eat her salad one handed while cradling the baby who nursed hungrily at her breast. Finally Mulder gave up on his own meal and started feeding his wife. John found the exchange between husband and wife sweet and poignant, causing an ache in his heart. He would never have that. He would never find someone to love as he loved Walter. Nothing could compare with what he had shared with him. He would have to be content with living vicariously through the family he saw before him.

After dinner Mulder drove him to Walter's place. As John thanked him and got out of the car Mulder put his hand on John's shoulder, searching his face. "Are you gonna be okay man? You know you can stay at our place if you want."

"I'm fine. There are some things here I need to take care of. I'll give you guys a call in the morning."

"Okay bro, take care and call if you need anything."

John closed the door and waved Mulder on. The doorman to the complex greeting John with a polite "Good evening, Dr. Carter." And let him in. Walter had added John's name to the lease the last time it came up for renewal. It made John feel so secure to know that he had a place to truly call home. Walter had somehow provided every feeling of warmth and security John had in the world, and now all of it was gone.

John opening the door and was overwhelmed by the deafening silence. If Walter had been here there would have been jazz music playing and some wonderful scent wafting in from the kitchen, either from Walter's talent with Thai cooking or some carryout restaurant, since Walter could only cook as long as it involved curry powder and John could only cook if it involved opening a can of soup.

John slowly took off his coat and put his bag on the sofa. He looked around the room, engulfed by the emptiness that had invaded every corner of the townhouse. How could one person's absence make the whole damn world seem so empty?

John poured himself a glass of scotch and sat down in Walter's favorite leather chair, propping his feet up on the ottoman. He'd cried himself out in the last 24 hours, and now he felt curiously empty of emotion. If he closed his eyes and didn't look at the bullet holes in the wall he could just pretend Walter was working late and would be home soon. They would sit on the couch and have beers and take out Chinese food while watching CNN or some sporting event, then go upstairs and make love, falling asleep spooned together, their naked bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle, completed only by one another.

The high-pitched ring of John's cell phone broke his reverie. He got up and dug in his bag for the accursed thing, wishing he had turned it off. It was probably Scully or Kerry checking up on him.

"Hello. John Carter here."

" Dr. Carter, it's Kyle Bates."

John felt heat rise to his face and that damned burning sensation was back in his stomach. "Hi Kyle, how are you?"

"I'm fine. It's you I was concerned about. I guess you didn't get much sleep before your plane left this morning. How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. I took a long nap this afternoon. I just got home, I've been with my friends all day."

"So where is home there in DC?"

"Walter and I have a townhouse in Crystal City. Not too far from the city, but more quiet than being in the thick of things."

There was an awkward silence before Kyle spoke again. "Would you think I was crazy if I told you I wanted to see you badly enough that I followed you to D.C...?"

"What? Yes, I would as a matter of fact. Where the fuck are you?" John was aghast. He was overwrought, and hung over to boot, and this was the last thing he was ready to face.

"I'm in a hotel about two miles from the federal building downtown. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Last night was pretty intense."

"You know, a phone call would have sufficed." John was annoyed, and wasn't even going to both to hide it. He'd planned to spend the evening sulking and trying to figure out how he was going to spend the rest of his life now that he had nothing to live for.

"Well, that's why I'm calling." He could hear the smile in Kyle's voice and it just pissed him off even more. "Can I meet you somewhere for dinner?"

"I've already eaten. I was about to settle down with a bottle of scotch and a bag of microwave popcorn and watch the Knicks game."

"John, if I may be so bold I think the last thing you need is more alcohol. I just want to talk to you. I told you I wasn't going to go away; I'm your friend and you're stuck with me. All I'm asking for is dinner. Nice well lit public place, no strings attached."

John sighed, running his hands through his hair. He caught a glimpse of a picture of him and Walter at the FBI Christmas party last year that was sitting on the mantle next to a picture of John and his cousin Chase, taken many years ago-practically another lifetime. A hitch caught in his throat. If he spent the night here alone tonight he would drink himself into oblivion and he knew it.

"Yeah, okay, fine. There's an all night cafe on the corner of Providence and 4th street. I'll meet you there in half an hour." John felt like he was signing his death warrant, but he had nothing to lose now.

He splashed some water on his face and rummaged in the medicine cabinet for some Visine to take away the redness in his eyes. He ran a comb through his hair and took another look around the living room, hoping that wherever Walter was he wouldn't hate John for needing someone to talk to. Kyle had known loss; he was two steps ahead of where John found himself to day. Maybe he could help John find the light at the end of what seemed to be a never- ending dark tunnel of pain and despair.

Kyle was waiting at a corner table in the brightly lit 50's style caf. He'd ordered coffee for both of them. A small smile lit his face when he saw John approach. "I'm glad you showed. I was afraid you wouldn't."

"I don't usually bail unless I get an emergency page, which isn't likely to happen when I'm out of rang of my pager. In Chicago I'm very tied to my job. Here I just show up, pull my shifts and leave."

"Oh, you work here too?"

"Yes, I work flexi-pool on the trauma team at Georgetown memorial. I was trying to wedge my toe in to get an attending position so I could move here permanently." John sat down and added liberal amounts of sugar to his coffee before taking a sip.

"And what are your plans now?"

John's shoulders slumped under the weight of that question and all the possibilities it held. "I love Chicago, I love my job there. But I have the townhouse and a good shot at getting an attending trauma position. I have Dana and Mulder and Moira. I think I'll eventually set up camp here. Are you based in LA like your dad was?"

Kyle winced at the mention of his father. "I've spent most of my adult life trying to live down the fact that I am my father's son. I'm not proud of the things my father did, or that his corporations continue to due. I have nothing to due with any of his business. Yes, I took my inheritance like a good son when he died, but I don't think he'd be pleased with the ways I've used it. I travel a lot. I can't really talk about my work, but I assure you I'm not with the FBI."

"Okay, fair enough."

They talked for a long time, and John admitted that he had broken down at Mulder and Dana's and that Kyle had been right in how cathartic it was to share his grief with is friends. He told him that Moira was learning to blow spit bubbles and that it was the coolest thing he'd ever seen.

"John, do you realize you just smiled? When's the last time you did that?" Kyle asked, grinning at him.

"I don't even know. Moira does that to you. You'll have to come meet them sometime. I think you'd like them. They run a division of the FBI called The X-Files that investigates cases that appear to be paranormal. Of course, now that they don't have to chase the aliens anymore since they so obligingly came to us, their caseload is pretty light."

"How do they feel about the alien colonization?" Kyle's expression was unreadable as he asked the question.

"You know, that's not the kind of question you can ask nowadays without disappearing without a trace." John struggled to keep his hands steady as he spoke. He settled for jamming his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one, inhaling deeply.

"For a doctor you sure do have a lot of bad vices," Kyle commented "So is that what happened to Walter? Did he ask too many questions and he disappeared?"

"What happened to Walter is none of your business. He was an Assistant Director of the Bureau and a lot of people with high level security clearance disappeared. I hear an agent he absolutely despised, an Agent named John Doggett, is replacing him. Mulder deserves the job but they don't like people who ask too many questions, and that's Mulder's forte`."

"I'm sorry to hear that. But bureaucracies aren't known for being fair. Especially with times the way they are. It seems like all have the rules have changed."

An awkward silence settled between them for a long moment before John blurted out, "Tell me about your wife."

Kyle was quiet for a long moment, stirring his cold coffee. He didn't look up at John as he spoke. "Elizabeth was very special. She had medical problems from birth and her health was always very...fragile. She died very suddenly and no cause was found. It was just her time. I loved her beyond reason and still do. She made me see the world as something beautiful and magical at a time in my life when I was so busy rebelling against my father that I didn't stop to enjoy anything. She saved me from myself."

John nodded, understanding the sentiment all too well. Walter had saved him from sinking into a deep depression when his cousin's drug addiction drove a wedge between John and his family. His surgical residency had turned into a nightmare and his roommate had committed suicide; John didn't think he could have sunk much lower than he was the night he met Walter Skinner.

"John, would you like to get out of here? It's getting late and my hotel room would be a lot more comfortable. I think sober we'll be able to behave with a bit more decorum, don't you think?"

John looked into the depths of Kyle's dark brown eyes and fought an emotional war in his gut. Part of him wanted to say yes, but the other part thought of Walter and wept silently. "Sure, that would be cool," he agreed, standing up and leaving cash on the table to pay their bill.

He followed Kyle back to his hotel in Walter's car. He supposed the bureau would ask for the Taurus back eventually, but the Montero John and Walter had picked out together just a year ago. Maybe he would drive it back to Chicago and spare himself being at the mercy of the dubious EL schedule.

Kyle was staying in another fairly swanky hotel. John wondered just how big that inheritance had been. He'd have to do some research on Nathan Bates and Science Frontiers when he got back to the townhouse and get to know some more about this mystery man who had entered his life.

The room was actually a lavish suite with two king size beds, a sofa and entertainment center and a hot tub. "You certainly like all the comforts of home, don't you?" he asked Kyle jokingly.

Kyle snorted. "My father worked his ass off his whole life and never enjoyed a dime he made. Neither did my mother or I. My mother has been dead a long time and I can't make it up to her, but I can't think of a better way to spend blood money then sleeping in a comfortable bed. And I'm not just blowing all his money, if that's what you think. I've invested well and have a nice portfolio. I don't have a home or children to support, so I can afford my lifestyle."

The two men sat down on the couch and settled for apple juice out of the wet bar. They compared horror stories of boarding schools and absentee fathers, finding as they talked that they had more and more in common. They had both spent most of their lives trying to prove themselves to fathers who would never find anything but fault with them for deciding not to join the family businesses.

As they talked John grew more and more conscious of his proximity to the handsome man. He smelled of the same earthy scent of the night before, and the exposed portion of his neck under his rugby shirt looked entirely too kissable. John finally had no choice but to admit that he was horny. The bulge in his jeans left no question about that. His palms sweated like a stupid teenage about to score first base. He rubbed his palms nervously along his thighs.

Kyle was not oblivious to his agitation. "John, are you having as much trouble keeping your hands to yourself as I am? Because I have to be honest, I'd really like to rip your clothes off," he said with a wide smile, leaning over and kissing John soundly on the lips.

John responded hesitantly at first, but his hormones won the battle with his brain and before long he was twining his fingers in Kyle's hair and exploring the depths of his mouth with his tongue. in a tangle of arms and legs they ended up lying on the couch with Kyle on top of John, running his hands up and down his John's slender body, grinding his hips against John's with urgency. John groaned with desire, reaching up to pull Kyle's shirt over his head and tossing it over the arm of the couch. Kyle stood and pulled John up with him, fumbling with the button up fly of John's faded jeans. Soon both men were down to their underwear and John took the lead, pulling Kyle down onto one of the expansive beds and latching his mouth hungrily onto one of his nipples, reaching into Kyle's briefs to free his erection from its cotton prison.

"Do you have condoms?" John gasped and Kyle pushed John's boxers down around his knees and rubbed his erect penis against John's hip.

"Yeah, but slow down. We have all night. Anticipation is half the pleasure, John." He gave him a slow sexy grin and took John's penis in his hand, pumping it with a slow steady rhythm.

John thought that he had died and gone to heaven. He languidly explored Kyle's body with his mouth and hands, reveling in the warmth of another body against his. He took delight in the gasps and moans he elicited from Kyle in response to his kisses and caresses. With a growl Kyle flipped him over and pinned him down, leaving a fiery trail of kisses down John's torso, then crouching between John's legs and taking his testicles in his mouth. John groaned helplessly and balled the bedspread in his fists as Kyle licked the shaft of his penis. "Oh god, get the condoms" he moaned, his voice cracking.

Still holding firmly the shaft of John's penis Kyle leaned over and reached into the nightstand drawer for a condom. He tore it open and used his lips to push it down John's penis, then engulfed the length of it in his mouth. John bucked in response, pushing himself further into the warmth of Kyle's mouth. Kyle's tongue snaked up and down the length of his penis while massaging his testicles with one hand. John ran his fingers through Kyle's hair, arching his back to meet the warm wet suction awaiting him in Kyle's mouth. Kyle took his free hand and began to pump the shaft of John's cock.

"No, stop!" John pulled away, pulling Kyle up by the shoulders. "I haven't had sex in a while, it's not going to take much more of that." He rubbed the velvety head of Kyle's penis as he spoke, rubbing the pre ejaculation fluid into the length of his penis. Kyle groaned.

"I want you inside of me," Kyle whispered in John's ear as he nibbled on the lobe. He pulled away and retrieved a tube of lubricant from the nightstand drawer.

John nodded, unable to trust his voice. "Roll over on your back," he whispered and Kyle obliged.

John planted a dozen small kisses and nibbles on the man's buttocks, then opened the lubricant and applied it liberally to the crevice between his buttocks. He slowly inserted one finger into the man's anus and was rewarded with a small shriek of excitement. Kyle rose up to meet the finger and drive it in deeper, so John inserted a second finger, stroking Kyle's prostate from the inside. Kyle dug his hips into the mattress, moaning. "John, please..." he pleaded.

John swung his leg over and straddled the man, positioning the head of his penis at the opening of Kyle's rectum. He pushed in slowly, and as he felt the tight muscles relax and open he grabbed Kyle's hips and thrust in deeply, his testicles right against the other man's buttocks. He withdrew all but the head of his penis and thrust again, enjoying the whimpers coming from deep in Kyle's throat.

John found his rhythm and threw his head back, thrusting into Kyle, who rose with each stroke to meet the thrusts. As he felt his orgasm build behind his testicles he slowed down his pace and pulled Kyle up from his position flat on his stomach to his hands and knees so he could reach around and pump his penis with his hand in time to his thrusts. Kyle moaned, chanting John's name and a litany of incoherent exclamations of pleasure.

It took all of John's control not to come. He body was tense with the effort of holding back, and it with great relief he felt Kyle buck backwards into his erection and the warmth of ejaculation in his hand. With several more thrusts John heard a roar and recognized it as his own voice, then felt something explode behind his eyes as he climaxed.

When John could think again he found himself slumped over Kyle, kissing his back and running his hands up and down the other man's sweat-slicked body. Slowly he withdrew his softening erection from Kyle's anus and laid down on the bed beside him, pulling the panting man into his arms. He removed the condom and threw it in the trash basket next to the bed.

"Oh God." Was all John could manage to say. His body was tingling and alive. It had felt wonderful to be touched and held and caressed again, but his mind filled with images of the hundreds of time he had committed the same acts with Walter. He longed for it to be Walter's sated body in the bed next to him. He kissed Kyle gently on the forehead, trying to bring his attention back to the man in the bed next to him.

Kyle nibbled John's neck. "That was incredible," he whispered in John's ear, his breath still coming in short hot bursts.

John rolled Kyle onto his side and spooned up against him, wrapping an arm around his waist, burying his face in the man's hair. He hadn't just used Kyle for sexual release. He liked him...a lot. He was easy to talk to and understanding and kind. John couldn't imagine loving him the way he did Walter, but he was glad he had found this man at a time when he couldn't bear to be alone. John needed a friend right now, and Kyle seemed willing to be that and more.

Sleep threatened to claim John, but he pulled himself upright. "Want to hop in the shower with me?" he offered Kyle.

Kyle grinned boyishly and allowed John to gently pull him out of the bed. "Sure, if my legs can remember how to work. I think you fried about half my brain cells."

John smiled. " hot shower and some more coffee and I'm sure they'll remember how to work again."

The hot water and proximity of Kyle's naked body revived John. He washed himself quickly and shampooed his hair, then set to work lathering up Kyle's lithe body, enjoying the planes and curves of the other man. He was so different from Walter, who had been large and powerful and so easily able to turn John to putty in his hands. Kyle was only slightly more muscular than John, and only a few years older than him. Walter had been seventeen years his senior when they met. John felt more on equal terms with Kyle than he had in his early days with Walter. He was relieved for the relationship to be so far removed from what he had shared with Walter. He wouldn't be here if it wasn't.

They lingered in the shower, kissing and stroking one another until the water grew uncomfortably cool. There was only one bathrobe, which Kyle generously offered to John. John had to admit Kyle looked quite comely wearing nothing but the white towel wrapped around his narrow hips.

John put his arms around Kyle's shoulders and kissed him softly. "Kyle, I...I don't know what to say. That was..."

Kyle smiled and put a finger to John's lips. "Don't say anything. We'll take it for what it was and just let things come as they come. Okay?"

John returned the smile. "Sounds good."

They snuggled under the covers for a while, kissing and touching and swapping both serious conversation and playful innuendo. Finally John realized it was almost three in the morning and said with reluctance. "Kyle, I really have to go. I promised Mulder and Dana I would come over tomorrow, and I've got to get some sleep."

"You don't want to sleep here?" the question wasn't a judgment, though it carried a note of rejection.

"I can't go over there wearing the same clothes. It's not that I don't want to stay Kyle, but the last couple of days have been pretty emotionally heavy. I need some time alone to think."

Kyle nodded. "Yeah, I understand. But I want to see you again soon. You said you fly back to Chicago on Tuesday?"

"Yeah, but then I work a 12am til 12pm shift. I won't be free til Wednesday afternoon. But I'd love to see you then."

"Okay, I'll call your cell sometime before then and we can make plans." Kyle kissed him deeply, feeling John's penis come to life again against his thigh. "Goodnight John."

John dressed in the bathroom and drove home after several deep kisses and promises to be in touch on Wednesday. When he reached the townhouse he stood for several minutes with the key in his hand, unable to open the door. How could he go to bed in the room he and Walter shared with the scorch of Kyle's touch still alight on his body? John remembered the pain in Walter's eyes when he had been unfaithful to him once in the early months of their relationship, and wondered if Walter would feel the same way about what had happened tonight.

John hated this limbo. This not knowing if Walter was ever coming home. How could he go on with his life not knowing what the future held? Was he supposed to try and live without Walter or try to get over him?

Finally he opened the door, finding the place as still and quiet and empty as he had left it several hours before. The scotch he had poured but not drunk was still sitting on the coffee table, the one with the cracked leg that had been broken during the struggle Walter had obviously put up when he was taken. John trudged upstairs to the bedroom and turned on the bedside light, surveying the room. It smelled of a combination of his and Walter's colognes, and one of Walter's suit jackets still hung carefully from the valet at the foot of the bed. Neither men being ones to collect knick knacks, the only adornment in the room was a picture of Moira on the dresser, taken when she was four days old, laying on her sheepskin in a patch of sunlight, sleeping contently. A wooden chest that had belonged to Walter's grandfather sat on the dresser and contained Walter's cufflinks and tie clips, and the wedding ring he had kept from his marriage to Sharon. Sharon's diamond wedding ring was there also, waiting one day to belong to Moira.

The room was sparsely furnished, with an antique wardrobe, a dresser and chest of drawers, the valet and a huge king size bed John and Walter had bought last Valentine's day as a gift to each other. The rich oak furniture desperately needed to be polished; John had let the cleaning woman go months ago, not wanting anything of Walter's to be touched or moved by any hands other than his own. He silently vowed to do it the next day, as well as take the basket of Walter's shirts to the dry cleaners and hang them up in the closet where they belonged.

He kicked off his shoes and lay down, still fully dressed, on the bed, not even bothering to turn down the down comforter and flannel sheets. Walter had teasingly called him "Ikea Boy" for months after he picked out the bedding, making sure it actually matched the rug in the room. John fell asleep before he could even turn off the light.

He was woken from a dream of Walter by the sound of the phone ringing. The sun was high in the sky, creating bright lines across the floor through the wooden vertical blinds on the windows.

He fumbled for the telephone. "Hello."

"John, man, it's almost eleven. Are you gonna sleep all day? I went into work early this morning so we could hang out, and I get home and you're still in bed!" Mulder exclaimed.

"Shit, it's that late? Sorry dude. I'll be over there in an hour."

"Nah, meet me at the basketball court. I've got a surprise for you."

John groaned. He wasn't up for basketball today. "Yeah, okay, I'll meet you there." He hung up and climbed out of bed. He'd wanted to talk to Scully, maybe even tell her what he'd done last night, but apparently he wasn't going to get the chance. He was going to have to be a big boy and deal with his actions all by himself, which just fucking sucked.

He felt so lost. Back when he'd had no personal life his life had been so easy to manage. He ate slept and breathed his education and job. But Walter had changed everything. He'd known love, and companionship, and all the things he'd pushed out of his life for so long and now he felt empty without them. But he wouldn't change a minute of his life with Walter. He wouldn't give that up for anything, no matter how much it hurt now to have lost it. John was smart enough to know he'd had something incredibly rare in his relationship with Walter Skinner. It had taken a long time for Walter to let John past his stern and authoritative front; the Walter Skinner that existed for the FBI and since his wife's death for the rest of the world too. But once he had it had been worth every moment of effort. He met Mulder at the basketball court on Hayward Street an hour later. John could see that Mulder was not alone, and when he got close enough to see whom his companion was he burst into a delighted grin. "Doug Ross, who the hell let you out of your cage?" he joked, giving the other man an enthusiastic slap on the back.

Doug Ross smiled back. "It's called vacation time, my friend, you should use yours sometime. We're here for three days and then gonna stop into Chicago for a week before I have to be back at work."

"So Carole quit for good?"

"Yeah, but she's going to school. Taking some administrative courses to get a bachelor in Hospital Administration. When the girls are in school she might go back to work. But it's nice to have her home when I get there at the end of the day. Both of us trying to work was killing us."

"Where is she? Surely your leash isn't that long these days." John grinned slyly at his friend.

Doug snorted good-naturedly. "Hell no. She's at Mulder's place hanging out with Dana. They're going to some museum or something with the kids."

John felt his happiness at seeing his friend fade into depression in the space of a heartbeat. Here were his two happily married friends, both in love with their wives and adoring of their respective daughters, and John was the token gay guy with no wife, no children, no...nothing. John had nothing. He'd had everything, and one afternoon he'd come home from work and it had all been gone.

Doug must have seen the shadow pass over John's face. He put his hand on his friend's shoulder and said in a low voice. "John, I'm really sorry they haven't found any news about Walter. I know how hard it must be."

"No, you don't Doug. He's gone. He's not coming back. I just haven't figured out how to live with that yet." John shrugged Doug's hand away and turned to Mulder. "So, you gonna do something with that ball or are we gonna stand here all day?"

John lost himself in the physical exertion of the basketball game for as long as his two friends would let him. After two hours they both begged off that they were too old and decrepit to play anymore and sat down to gulp down huge bottles of Gatorade and whine that they were having heart attacks. John continued to bounce the ball around the court for some time until the two older men convinced him to go get some lunch.

"Are you trying to fucking kill us, Carter? We're old, we need food," Mulder exclaimed. John knew Mulder had never completely recovered his stamina after having his lungs infested with bug larvae during a case a couple of years ago.

"It's just not the same after you turn forty. You'll see one day. You'll be old too, you big showoff," Doug added.

They finally cajoled John away from the court and the threesome spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying beer and pizza at a local restaurant. Doug talked about his private pediatric practice in Seattle and Mulder complained about how boring his job was now that Kersh was director and watching his every move. John caught Doug up on the lives of their mutual friends and enemies at Cook County General, saving his favorite four letter words for Robert Romano. John managed to push Kyle Bates and the night before to the back of his mind, grateful for the company of his friends. If he'd been left to his own devices today he'd have gone and picked up an extra shift at Georgetown just so he wouldn't have to be alone.

His admission to himself that Walter was most likely dead had stolen the hope that had kept him going the past four months. He felt devoid of any emotion or direction now except fear and panic. Instead of feeling like he could move on now he felt like the future had been stolen from him.

John took leave of his friends at sunset, declining Mulder's invitation to have dinner at his place. The sight of the two happy couples and three devastatingly cute little girls was more than John could face in the wake of his own misery. He just wanted to go home and wallow in it for a while.

Wallow he did. He sat in Walter's leather chair and drained the crystal decanter of scotch, alternately weeping and punching the walls. It was all so fucking unfair. The last six months had been something out of a bad science fiction movie. Goddamn Aliens had kidnapped his lover. He knew what had been done to both Mulder and Dana by the aliens; he knew that the same must have been done to Walter. He would give his life to trade places with him, to have Walter alive and whole and let John take all the pain for both of them. But John hadn't been given that choice. How the fuck could over two thousand people be missing and the government just let it happen? He thought of Moira and Kate and Tess, wondering in despair what kind of world these children were going to grow up in.

At some point he must have passed out, because when he next awoke he was on the couch with a blanket over him and Dana Scully's piercing eyes looking down at him with deep concern, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed in a frown. She swabbed gently at his face with a warm damp cloth.

The inside of John's mouth felt like he'd spent the night eating sawdust, and his stomach lurched painfully. The throbbing headache wasn't much to write home about either. He tried to sit up but found that the room spun in a dizzying fashion when he did so.

"John, thank God you're awake. I was going to call an ambulance if you didn't come around soon. I think you gave yourself alcohol poisoning," Dana said, grabbing his wrist to check his pulse.

"Shit, what time is it?" John groaned. He knew he should have asked Mulder for that damn key back.

"It's two o'clock in the afternoon. You missed your plane. I booked you another flight at five but there's no way you're in any condition to go into work tonight."

John bolted upright, his entire body rebelling painfully as he did. "Shit," he said sullenly, feeling like a teenager caught drinking by his mom.

"Lay back down, Medicine Man. You aren't going anywhere until you get some liquids in you. Are you trying to kill yourself John, or have you decided to take up alcoholism as your new hobby?"

"Dana, I can take care of myself you know. I have a mother, but she's somewhere off in the Caribbean right now," he retorted.

She shoved a glass of water into his hand and sat down next to him. "John Carter, you know Walter would kick your ass for acting like this, don't you?"

"Well he's not here, is he?" John felt like an asshole as soon as the words came out of his mouth, but he couldn't stop himself. He hurt too much to hold it in. And of course being the wonderful guy he was the only way he had to show it was by being a complete shithead to one of the few people in the world who cared about him.

Dana's eyes narrowed and she suddenly looked quite dangerous. John was glad she wasn't armed. She was a shoot first and ask questions later kind of person. "John, do you think you are the only person who misses him? Do you think you're the first person to lose someone, to lose everything because of this fucking war? If so, you need to get your head out of your ass and take a look around you. Do you think you're honoring Walter's memory by wasting away before our eyes? Is that what he would have wanted for you?"

John had no answer for her. He obediently sipped at the glass of water and tried to look contrite. She sighed deeply and he saw that she was fighting tears. "John, we all lost him, not just you. We don't want to lose you too. Don't you get it? If you let his loss break you like this then they win. They'll win by breaking our spirits. Walter died for nothing if you roll over and die for them."

He knew she was right, but admitting that was another thing entirely.

Losing Everything, part 2

John was so exhausted by time the taxi brought him to Kerry

Weaver's doorstep that he thought he would die. And he still had the juggernaut of a 12-hour shift facing him.

He'd left DC on bad terms with Dana, and was kicking himself for it. She was just trying to take care of him. She cared; he should count himself lucky for that.

He'd whined and pleaded until she acquiesced to his plea to stop at the dry cleaners and drop off Walter's laundry before taking him to the airport. She couldn't understand why it was so important to him; he didn't really understand it either. He just knew he had to do it.

He trudged down the stairs to his room in the basement and took a shower, remembering all the times he and Walter had regretted that the small shower stall would not hold them both. Everywhere he looked in the world he was reminded of Walter.

When he dressed and came back upstairs Kerry Weaver was in the den. "Jesus, John, you look like shit!" she exclaimed with concern. "Do you have the flu or something?"

John's mood had grown nasty. "NO, I have a bad case of nosy redheads trying to run my life!" he declared harshly, snatching up his bag and coat and walking out the door.

He fumed all the way to the EL station. Everyone seemed so damned eager to fix him, when the one thing that would fix him was so far from his reach. They just couldn't seem to grasp the concept that nothing would ever be right in his world again. When Mulder was missing Dana had at least had the promise of her pregnancy to hold onto. John had nothing. He had a heart full of memories and pain and a future full of emptiness.

As he sat on the cold metal bench waiting for the EL his cell phone rang. "Carter," he answered, impatient of the intrusion into his pity-party.

"John." It was Kyle Bates. The guy was serious; he really wasn't going to go away.

"Hi Kyle, how's it going?"

"I'm okay. I've been thinking of you a lot. I miss you. How was your visit with your friends?"

"It was fine, thanks. I'm waiting on the EL now so I can go to work."

"Well, I just wanted to say hi and see how you were. Can I pick you up and give you a ride home from work when you get off?"

John laughed. "What are you doing, Kyle? Following me from state to state?"

"No, actually, I'm staying with friends here in Chicago and will be for a while. I have to go where my work takes me."

"Are you ever gonna tell me what that work is?"

"Yes, one day. Right now you probably wouldn't believe me, Kyle said with a small laugh. "So can I pick you up after work?"

John sighed. "Sure. Just...wait outside. I work with a bunch of gossip hounds, if they saw you'd I'd be the talk of the hospital inside of 24 hours."

"And you're embarrassed and ashamed that you're seeing someone besides Walter?"

"Kyle, let's not go there, okay? I'll see you at noon tomorrow. Bye." He hung up the phone as the EL screeched to a stop in front of him.

Work was hell. There was one trauma after another, and to top it all off a school bus accident around 7:30 a.m. brought in five ambulances full of middle school kids and the customary frantic parents and school officials. None of the kids had been seriously injured, but with kids you had to be careful and run every test under the sun just to be sure. The radiologist had asked John if he was trying to kill her as he wheeled in the 18th patient in two hours, and she'd looked serious.

Around 11:15 John finally got to sit down and sign off on all his charts. He lost himself in the piles of paperwork and was startled from his immersion in signing his name 200 times by the sound of Kyle's voice. " Dr. Carter, it's One O'clock. I think you were supposed to be off duty an hour ago."

John looked up from the desk into Kyle's smiling face. Inwardly he groaned. He saw Deb Chen and Malik eying them from the other side of the desk, and Randi wasn't even bothering to hide the fact that she was outright staring.

"Sorry Man, I lost track of time. Let me go get my stuff and I'll meet you outside."

With his face turning beet red, John went to the lounge and retrieved his things from his locker. Deb Chen was quick on his heels. "Is that your new boyfriend? John, he is really hot!"

"No, that is not my new boyfriend! Jesus Deb, I don't even know if Walter is coming back. And thanks for the fucking stereotype, I guess since I'm gay I can't just have guy friends? Should I go home and listen to some showtunes and watch fucking Martha Stewart?" John's voice rose as he spoke. He knew everyone at the desk could hear him but he didn't care.

"Shit John, I didn't mean it that way at all. Forget I asked." She pushed the door open and slammed it shut behind her.

John was boiling. He picked up a half-full coffee mug from the table and slammed it against the wall, enjoying the sound of it shattering into a thousand pieces. He didn't even bother to clean it up when he left.

He found Kyle's car in the parking lot and climbed into the passenger seat. Kyle could tell something was wrong and pulled out of the parking space without speaking.

John finally broke the silence, realizing he needed to give Kyle directions. "I live on Foster Avenue. Turn left four blocks up and it's about ten blocks up from there."

"Would you like to go get something to eat first? You really look like you could use it."

John shook his head. "No, I just want to go home. Work sucked, DC sucked, my whole fucking week has sucked. I just need to be alone." John winced, realized his encounter with Kyle had been included in that litany. But Kyle didn't seem to notice. He reached over and squeezed John's leg. John jerked away.

"I think the last thing you need right now is to be alone. You're a wreck John. Let me come back to your place with you. I'll find something to fix you for lunch."

"No, I live with my boss as a border. She might be there."

"And so what? She might think that you have a friend? John, it's the 21st century, people don't assume that two gay men must be lovers just because they're in the same room."

John winced again, remembering his brief and nasty exchange with Deb in the lounge. "Okay, you have a point. I'm sure there's something edible in the fridge, or we can just order a pizza." John couldn't admit it, not to Kyle or anyone else, but he really didn't want to be alone. He was grateful Kyle was being insistent.

When they arrived at the house Kerry was there, curled up on the couch reading a book.

"Kerry, this is my friend Kyle Bates, Kyle, this is Dr. Weaver, my boss and landlord," John said by way of introduction.

Kyle bowed slightly as he shook Kerry's hand. "Pleased to meet you, Dr. Weaver. John and I are on the way to plunder your refrigerator. Hope you don't mind."

Kerry gestured towards the kitchen with a wave of her hand. "Nah, help yourselves. There's half a rotisserie chicken and some potato salad that probably hasn't expired yet. John and I tend to eat out of vending machines at the hospital more than we eat here, so the pickings are slim."

The men raided the kitchen and came up with something for lunch. John was surprised to find that he was starving, and that his mood was improved considerably by Kyle's presence. They ate their lunch in companionable silence and Kyle pointedly bumped John out of the door of the fridge when he reached for two beers, pulling out instead two cans of soda.

After lunch John joked, "Want to come downstairs and see my dungeon?" as they clean up the remains of their food.

"Sure. You're not hiding anything down there that bites are ya?"

John grinned and whispered "Just me." He couldn't figure out what it was about Kyle that made him feel so much better about everything. It was just impossible to be in a bad mood in the other man's company.

Kyle followed John down the stairs to his tiny room. "Wow, this is where you live?" Kyle asked.

"Yep, home sweet home. I think it was a storage closet before I moved in. At least in DC I have the townhouse. That's where most of my stuff is now. I just keep enough clothes here to look presentable at work."

Kyle turned and pulled John into his arms, kissing him fervently. "I really missed you John," he murmured against John's ear.

The kiss set John's nerve endings on fire. He responded by returning the kiss with a passion equaling Kyle's, running his hands down the front of Kyle's chest then around to his buttocks.

Kyle relaxed into John's embrace. "That's a rather thorough exam, Dr. Carter. Are you sure you want to proceed?"

John cupped Kyle's face in his hands, kissing his forehead, eyelids, and his full sensuous lips. "Actually, I think you should take your clothes off and let me perform a full body exam. I promise to be very thorough."

They undressed one another slowly, savoring the warmth of one another's bodies and the thrill of discovery as they kissed and caressed each area of skin exposed as a piece of clothing was discarded. John's knees grew weak and he pulled Kyle down onto the bed with him, feeling the softness of his woolen blanket against his back and the heat from Kyle's body against his chest.

Kyle refused to let John give into his frantic hormones. He made love to him slowly and languidly, covering every inch of John's body with a kiss or touch. John thought he was on fire. When Kyle finally took John's penis in his hand and began to caress it John moaned and thought he would come instantly. Kyle reached for the tube of lubricant on John's nightstand and warmed it in his hands before beginning a slow pumping action of John's penis, stopping again and again just as John felt on the verge of climax.

"Oh god, stop it, you're killing me," John groaned, pulling Kyle's hand away. "I want you inside me. Make love to me," he said with urgency. "I need you." He made motions to roll onto his stomach when Kyle stopped him.

"No, I want to look at your face." He positioned a pillow under John's hips and accepted the condom John handed him from the nightstand. He applied more lubricant to his hand, slowly inserting his fingers in John's rectum and relaxing the muscles, causing fireworks to explode behind John's eyelids each time he stroked his prostate. Finally John was whimpering his name when Kyle entered him, filling John completely then lowering his face down to John's to kiss him deeply.

"You are beautiful, John. I wish you could see your face. You look like an angel when your eyes aren't full of misery. Let me help take that pain out of your eyes John," he whispered as he began to move his hips, thrusting in long slow motions, tormenting John further.

"Oh god Kyle, oh please, I need to...need to..." his words broke off as Kyle took gentle hold of his penis again and stroked it in time with his thrusts. John felt lightning shoot up his spine and he sat up, crying out as he came. The tightening of his rectal muscles was enough to send Kyle over the edge. He gripped John's shoulders and came with a shudder that rippled through his whole body.

The two men ended up in a tangle of arms and legs on the bed, kissing and touching and basking in the warmth of one another. John wondered absently if Kerry had heard their cries but decided at that moment he just didn't care. Kyle's touch was the only thing that seemed to hold back the darkness; to keep him from falling into the abyss that threatened to engulf him. Kyle's touch was the only thing that kept him from thinking of Walter.

They spooned together, Kyle behind John with his arms around his waist. Kyle pulled the blanket up from the foot of the bed and covered them both. They were pressed tightly together on the narrow bed.

"Get some sleep, Dr. Carter," he whispered in John's ear. The response was a gentle snore. John was already asleep.

John dreamt of Walter. He dreamt of the horrible argument they had had in John's therapist's office while John was still in Atlanta. Mulder had been missing for about two weeks, and the tension in Walter's life was incredible. John felt like shit for adding to it. And then the therapist had insisted on a joint session between the two before he would consider releasing John from his care.

"John, I want you to tell Walter why you think you have been such a burden to him lately." Dr. Baker had said.

John hadn't even been able to look up at Walter. "You need to be with Dana. You need to be looking for Mulder, not here dealing with my shit. I got myself into this. I know you never intended this relationship to become your whole life, and definitely not more important than your job. You shouldn't be here. Every minute you waste on me is time you could be looking for Mulder. Dana needs him more than you and I need to resolve whatever is going on between us. She has her baby to think about."

Walter had fumed quietly but stayed silent.

"John, please, tell Walter what you told me about Dana Scully in our last session."

John had finally looked up at Walter, tears gleaming in his eyes. "Walter, if Mulder doesn't come back I think you should marry her. She and the baby need your protection, and a child needs a father. She trusts and respects you. I think it would be best for everyone."

Walter had jumped from his chair and stalked around the room like a caged animal for a few moments before finally exploding. In two huge steps he had crossed the room to pull John from his chair and look him in the eye.

"John Carter, are you trying to get rid of me? You want me to marry Dana Scully? Has it occurred to you that I am gay and don't want to marry her? Do you think the last two years have just been about sex? After everything we have been through how can you think that? I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Domestic bliss, the whole nine fucking yards, John. You and I together will look after Dana and the baby. You are not going to push me away. I refuse to let you. We may not be married but you're wearing my ring and as long as you are then I consider it til death do us part! I meant that ring as a symbol of a commitment, and you don't just walk away from the best thing that ever happened to you when he acts like a pain in the ass!"

He'd captured John in a fierce embrace and kissed him deeply. When he was done he whispered in John's ear "Forever, John Carter. Promise me now. Forever."

John had nodded mutely, tears running down his face. "Forever." He'd managed to whisper, holding onto Walter with all his strength. All doubt he'd had in his relationship with Walter had vanished at that moment.

John awoke alone. It was almost eleven p.m. There was a note sitting on his nightstand that read.

"I didn't want to wake you, but I had some work to do. I waiting til your boss left before leaving, so maybe she thinks we were just playing scrabble or something (haha). Here is my cell phone number-call me when you like. I'll be thinking about you and missing you til then. Kyle."

John lay on his back in the darkness for a long time. The room smelled like Kyle. He finally recognized the earthy scent the other man wore-sandalwood. Walter's smell had faded from the room some time ago.

Kyle made him happy. He was afraid to admit it, as if he was committing blasphemy against his love for Walter. But Kyle was easy to talk to and the sex drove the pain out of John's heart, if only for a while. It wasn't love, but John felt that he could be happy spending time with Kyle. He wanted to get to know him better. He wanted to introduce him to Mulder and Dana. He might even ask Kerry what she had thought of him.

Finally John got up and showered, then pulled on a pair of sweatpants and returned to his room. He turned on the TV, and the dim light of a basketball game gently illuminated a picture of John and Walter on the nightstand. John picked it up and looked at it for a long time. He new every angle and plane of Walter's body, knew the things that would make him laugh or cry. He stretched his senses out, pleading for some knowledge as to whether or not Walter was still out there somewhere. But the connection felt severed.

John hated it that he was so emotional lately. He hated feeling weak. The only time he felt in control of his life anymore was at work, where he could go about his functions automatically and think only of the patient in front of him. He'd pick up some more shifts and just not think about anything but work until this all stopped hurting so damn much.

John was rested and far more composed when he arrived at work the next day. He saw the coffee stain remnants of his handiwork splashed and dried against the wall in the lounge, but he turned away and tugged on his lab coat, checking his pockets for all the necessities; pens, gum, tissues, prescription pad and stickers for the peds patients, then went out to check the board.

The ER was busy, and for once John was grateful to be up to his elbows in traumas. Medicine forced him to be singularly focused, and pushed his personal life to the back of his brain for a few hours.

About halfway through his shift he found time to go down to the cafeteria and get a real cup of coffee from the Starbucks vending machine. He found Abby Lockhart sitting alone at a table, working on some charts. She looked up and smiled when she saw John. "Carter, hey, pull up a chair. What they heck have you been up to?"

John had found a great friend in Abby Lockhart. She had been his AA sponsor and a trusted confidant when he needed one. He missed the time they had spent together. The past few months John had shunned most social invitations, splitting his time between his two jobs and his lonely vigil at the townhouse, allowing only Mulder and Dana into his private hell.

He sat down with Abby, sipping at his coffee, which tasted like liquid gold compared to the bitter over-brewed stuff in the break room upstairs. "I'm fi ne. I've just been working a lot. Spending a lot of time in DC."

"No word on Walter?" Abby asked over her coffee cup, her eyes full of concern for her friend.

John sighed, running his finger over the rim of his Styrofoam cup. "No, no word on him or any of them. I've accepted that he's not coming back Abby. If he were still alive I would know it, I just would. But ever since the day he disappeared there's been such a feeling of finality to it, as if the past three years were just wiped off the slate."

Abby squeezed John's hand. "That's not true, Carter. You have three years of wonderful memories. You aren't the same person you were when you met him; you have that too. You'll always have him in your heart. I know it sounds trite right now, but it's true."

John appreciated the sentiment, but it did sound trite. All words of comfort rang so hollow in his heart. Nothing could touch his pain. Except the touch of Kyle Bates' skin against his, he noted to himself, feeling like such a bastard for the comfort he took from the other man.

"What is it Carter? You look like somebody just stepped on your grave."

"I met someone recently. He's nice; he's really intelligent and understanding. He lost his wife two years ago. And he's really attractive. I feel like such a prick for being attracted to him. Walter wouldn't be going out with someone else four months after I died."

Abby gazed at him intently. "Are you going out with this guy, Carter?"

"I've slept with him twice, so I suppose you could call it that," John admitted.

"Whoa. How are you feeling about that?"

"I like the comfort. I like not being alone. I like him, but every minute I'm not with him I'm thinking of Walter. So I feel like I'm just using him as an escape route. Honest to God, I just don't know what I'm doing Abby. I've never been in love before Walter, and I thought we were going to be together until we were old men. I don't know how to move on without him."

Abby stood and hugged his shoulders, kissing his cheek. "You'll learn, Carter. It's going to take time. There aren't any hard and fast rules about grieving. You'll find your way. Just stop kicking your own ass every step of the way. Walter wouldn't want you to do that. He'd want you to be happy. I gotta get back up to the ER. I'll see you around."

John wished desperately she could have stayed. The last thing he wanted was to be alone with his own thoughts right now. He gulped down his coffee and hurried back upstairs to bury his mind in another case.

John was up to his elbows in blood when his shift ended at noon. The last case of the day had been a gunshot wound to the chest and the 16-year-old patient hadn't survived. Just another gang-banger, but he'd had a mother and sister who saw him for the young boy he was and were now grieving deeply for his loss. John hated being the one to break the news to families that they'd lost the patient. It never got any easier, as many times as he'd done it.

He showered in the doctor's lounge and put on clean scrubs; he'd forgotten to bring a change of clothes. He trudged in the cold and the whirling snow out to the EL station and waited for it to arrive and carry him back to his empty room. Kerry had come on duty as he was leaving, so the house would be empty. Empty. Alone. Those words had seeped between John's bones and seemed to define his life now.

On the way home he mustered the nerve to dig in his bag and find the piece of paper Kyle had scribbled his cell phone number on. Kyle picked up on the second ring.

"Bates here."

"Kyle, it's John Carter."

John could almost here Kyle smiling through the phone. "John, it's good to hear your voice. How are you?"

"Exhausted. I just finished another twelve-hour shift, and tomorrow morning I fly into DC to pull a 36 and two twelve's before I have another day off."

"I'd like to see you before you leave. Can I meet you at your place? I'll bring lunch." in for a penny, in for a pound, John thought to himself before responding. "Sure, that would be nice. See you in an hour or so?"

"Great. What do you want for lunch?"

"How about Chinese? There's a really good take out place around the corner from my house."

"Sure. See you then. I can't wait. I've missed you." Kyle admitted before hanging up.

John didn't know if he had missed Kyle or missed the companionship in general, but he knew he didn't want to be alone. He'd grown so used to calling Walter as soon as he got home from work and sometimes talking for hours. John had never craved that kind of closeness with anyone before, but suddenly he needed it like he needed oxygen.

He changed into Jeans and a tee shirt when he got home, tidying up the living room quickly from where Kerry had left an assortment of scrapbooking materials lying around. Satisfied that it looked presentable he settled on the couch with a book to read and wait for Kyle.

When the doorbell rang Kyle was there with steaming cardboard containers full of delicacies such as cashew chicken and lo mien noodles. They laid out the food and John plunged in, not realizing how hungry he had been until the smells had taken hold of him. He had to admit, he really was too thin. At exactly six feet tall 115 lbs put him squarely between skeleton and scarecrow on the weight charts. He really did need to eat more.

Once they were both stuffed and Kyle had put the leftovers in the refrigerator they sat down on the couch, arms around each other and sharing light kisses and touches. John reached to pull Kyle's shirt over his head, but Kyle stopped him.

"John, we don't have to have sex to spend time together. It's not that I don't want to jump your bones, but I want to get to know you too. Can't we just talk? Or is this just about sex for you?"

John ran his fingers through his hair. "No Kyle, it's not just about sex. I like you a lot, but I can't deny that being close to you physically is the only thing in the world right now that makes me forget everything else."

Kyle stood up, his dark eyes unreadable. "John, I'm not going to fuck Walter out of your head. You have to let go of him willingly. I told you before I wasn't just going to be a substitute for him. I have a heart too, and I'm not up for having it broken right now, no matter how smart and warm and sexy and lovable you are."

"Kyle, I'm not trying to hurt you. I want you. I like you a lot. I'm trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing here, but I'm scared and confused and just trying to follow what feels right. Making love with you feels right. Your strength and your warmth feel right. Do you want me lie and say I don't like touching you? I've never dated before. Not another man. Walter and I took one look at each other and no one else ever mattered. So I'm operating blind here. But I'm trying. Can't you at least give me credit for that?"

Kyle sighed and sank back on the couch next to John, taking him in his arms. "Yes, I can give you credit for that. I know you're having a hard time John, and I want to be there for you, but you can't move forward until you deal with all this emotional baggage you've got, and I'm not going to have a dead end relationship with you," hetilted John's head with two fingers under his chin so that John was forced to look him in they eye. "I see a future when I look at you, John Carter, and I want that to be real. So let's do this right, okay? Is that what you want too? Do you want a relationship or just something to take away your pain?"

"I don't know. I can't see my own future at all. I don't see anything at all for me past the next day. You have to give me time. I'm still trying to believe my future won't have Walter in it." John held tight to the other man, as if he were the anchor that would save John from drowning. John didn't want to lose him, but he couldn't make him any promises.

Kyle buried his face in John's neck, nuzzling the soft skin and inhaling his warm scent. "We'll figure it all out together, okay? Just don't shut me out or think that because I want to be with you that you can't talk to me about Walter. I told you before I wanted to help you get through this. Just keep being honest with me and we'll be okay."

John relaxed into the embrace. That much he could promise. "You've got a deal. I promise to be honest about my feelings, and to trust you."

They held each other for a long time before they started talking again, the conversation drifting to John's work and family. John told Kyle about Chase and the rift John's decisions had made in the family. He confessed how it had been a relief when Chase eventually died last year, no longer a mere shadow of the vital young man he had once been. He talked about the attack at work and his drug addiction. He found it easy to tell Kyle anything and everything, and they talked until John eased into sleep with his head in Kyle's lap, Kyle affectionately stroking his hair.

When Kerry Weaver came home she found the two men on her sofa, John sleeping soundly with his head on Kyle Bates' lap, and Kyle channel surfing with the TV on mute. Kyle looked up at her and blushed. "Hello Dr. Weaver. Nice to see you again."

"Hello Mr. Bates. It's good to see John getting some rest. He's looked awful lately. We've all been worried about him," she said matter of factly, hanging her coat and scarf on the coat tree and putting her briefcase on the floor next to it. "I'm going to make some tea. Would you like some?" she offered

"Yes, that would be great, thanks. There's also enough food left to feed a third world country if you're hungry. John and I ordered Chinese. I think he ate all the Lo Mein but there's cashew and Kung pao chicken and fried rice."

"Oh, great, I'm starving." Kerry said as she made her way to the kitchen.

Kyle noticed the crutch for the first time. She'd been sitting when he met her before, so he didn't know she had some sort of difficulty walking. "Here Dr. Weaver, let me move and I'll bring you your dinner," he said as he carefully slid John's head out of his lap. John sighed deeply and turned over on his side, not waking up.

"That's not necessary, but thank you," she said, proceeding into the kitchen.

Kyle followed her anyway. "The least I can do is make the tea while you heat up your dinner," he offered, taking the kettle from the stove and filling it up at the tap. He turned up the gas on the oven and setting the kettle to heat, sitting down at a stool at the butcher-block table to wait.

Kerry cut to the chase, her curiosity and concern for her friend getting the best of her. "So are you and John dating?"

Kyle took a moment to respond. "John and I are friends," he said, "and we enjoy spending time together, but John has an awful lot of healing to do before he's ready to move on."

Kerry nodded her agreement. "John and Walter might as well have been married. I've known John for a long time and I've seen him go through a lot, but this has been the hardest thing he's ever had to live with. But I'm glad he's made a friend. He needs to start learning how to live again. He's been in limbo for months, and it's tearing him apart."

"I lost my wife a couple of years ago, so I know exactly what John's going through. I want to help him through it so he doesn't bottle himself up like I did. And when he's through grieving if he sees me in his future, I'll be happy. If not, I'll still be his friend."

"That's a very mature attitude, but it's pretty obvious though that your feelings for him are a bit stronger than that." Kerry said, eying the man for a reaction.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, I have romantic feelings for John. But I promised him my friendship first and foremost, and I keep my promises."

"A lot of people care deeply about John. I hate to think what would happen to you if you were to hurt him." Kerry said, taking her plate from the microwave and joining him at the table.

Kyle grinned. "Is that a threat, Dr. Weaver?"

"Yes, it is. And as long as you bear it in mind we'll get along just great." Kerry said with a smile, stabbing a forkful of food and tasting it. "This is great. Where did you order from?"

The teakettle whistled shrilly, sparing Kyle any further interrogation by Kerry Weaver. They sat in companionable silence as Kerry ate and Kyle found the tea bags and made them two cups of earl gray tea.

After Kerry was done Kyle realized it was close to midnight and John had not stirred. He went to the living room and pulled a lap blanket over John's legs, kissing him tenderly on his temple. "Goodbye Dr. Carter," he whispered.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Dr. Weaver. I'd better get going. Doesn't look like John's going to wake up so I'll get out from under your feet."

"You're no bother, Kyle. It was nice to get to know you a bit better. I suppose I'll be seeing you again."

Kyle smiled. "I hope so." He shrugged into his leather motorcycle jacket and let himself out the front door.

Dana Scully picked John up at the airport early the next morning, relieved to see him looking far less haggard than when she'd last seen him. He'd been in such a bad emotional state she had considered calling his AA sponsor, but He looked rested and more relaxed now.

Once they were in the car Scully asked him, "So what magical elixir have you found, Dr. Carter? You look much better than you did last week."

She laughed when John blushed from the top of his head clear down to his neck. Suddenly John thought it was way too warm in the car. "Well, I guess I'll tell you know so if you want to kill me at least it will spare me a 36 hour shift at the hospital. I'm kinda dating someone."

She was quiet for a moment, and John wondered fleeting if she really was going to kill him. "John," she finally said, her tone quiet and even. "As hard as it is for all of us to admit that Walter is probably dead, I'm really glad you met someone. Walter wouldn't want you to be unhappy, and Mulder and I don't either. I hope we get to meet him sometime soon. Are you serious about him?"

"You mean you're not going to put a bullet in my head for betraying Walter?" John asked cautiously.

Scully exhaled loudly, as if she had been holding her breath. "John, please. It would be different if we had reason to believe Walter was alive. I know if we had any hope of that possibility left, you wouldn't give up searching. As I see it, it's normal for you to want to move forward. I know no one will ever take Walter's place."

John relaxed into the seat, not realizing just how much he had needed his friend's approval. "You're right. If I had any real hope that he was still alive I would hold onto that forever. And as for being serious about this other guy, I don't have a clue. He knows exactly how I feel and how much I love Walter, and we've agreed to just take things day by day and see what happens. No promises and no expectations."

Scully nodded. "Sounds like a good start. It's a hell of a lot better than drinking yourself stupid every chance you get. You've been starting to scare all of us the last month or so. You worked so damn hard to recover after your attack; the last thing Walter would have tolerated would be you backsliding. He would have kicked your ass."

"From here to Chicago and back again," John agreed as they pulled up in front of Georgetown Memorial Hospital. "See you tomorrow night," he said as he climbed out of the passenger seat.

"Take care, John." Scully replied, smiling. "It's good to have you among the living again."

John smiled in reply and closed the car door. He had to admit, it felt nice to be among the living again.

The next morning Dana Scully was in her living room doing some paperwork while the baby napped in her bassinette next to her desk, when she heard a noise at her front door. She jumped from her chair and cautiously approached the door, grabbing her gun off the top of the bookcase next to the desk. There was a white envelope pushed halfway under the door. She listening carefully for the sound of retreating footsteps but heard nothing. A year ago she would have been out that door in a heartbeat pursuing whomever had left the envelope; but that was life before Moira, and now her first and only thought was protecting her child.

When she was certain no one was outside her apartment she searched around for a pair of sterile gloves and an evidence bag and couldn't find either. She finally settled for picking up the envelope with a pair of kitchen tongs and placing it in a Ziploc bag, after having held it up to the naked lamp bulb to check for wiring or explosives. The envelope seemed to contain only papers. She was dying to know what was in it.

She grabbed the phone and hit speed dial, calling her own office.

"Mulder." Her husband answered.

"Mulder, it's me. Remember back in the old days when it was a weekly occurrence to have someone shove something under the door? Well, someone wants to play cloak and dagger here."

"Oh really. So what have we got?" Mulder asked, already shrugging into his coat to go home and retrieve the item.

"Plain white envelope with a thick stack of papers in it. It's sealed so I didn't open it, but the anticipation is killing me. Bring me some gloves and an evidence bag, will you?"

"On my way, Love. See you in half an hour."

When Mulder arrived home Scully was sitting at the desk, squirming in nervous anticipation, staring at the envelope in its plastic bag. As he proffered her evidence kit to her she thanked him with a grateful smile and took a pair of sterile envelopes from the bag, tearing the package open and sliding them onto her small hands. She did the same with a pair of sterile tweezers and pulled the envelope out of the bag by a corner with the tweezers, then carefully used the letter opener from the desk to slit open the sealed envelope. She used the tweezers to pull out the thick sheaf of papers.

On the papers were rows and rows of names. Thousands of them, alphabetically organized, three columns to a page. Next to each name was a criminal charge-most of them Treason or Crimes Against Humanity-and then an execution date.

Scully found the name on the third page, Skinner, Walter Sergei, treason, execution date 12/18/2000. Her heart skipped a beat and silent tears started to slip down her cheeks. "Where the fuck did this document come from Mulder, and is it real?"

"I don't know, but you can bet your sweet ass we are going to find out. Scan that thing on the flatbed to your desktop and let me take it to the lab and have them try to lift prints from it. Send copies to the Gunmen and let's see what they can make of it. I'll light a fire under the guys in forensics and bring back a preliminary report. You want lunch?"

She shook her head. "No, I want this to be a horrible lie." Even as she said it she didn't believe it. She knew it was true. The black and white documents that told the cruel fate that had befallen all these people bore Department of Defense stamps on them.

She scanned the items onto her computer and put them in the evidence bag. Mulder pocketed them and promised to call with a report as soon as he had any information. Scully emailed the copies to the gunmen and waited anxiously to hear something from any of them. Half a dozen times she picked up the phone to call John, but each time decided to wait until they had more information.

Finally after a few hours Mulder called. "I hate to tell you this, Scully, but the boys in the lab think they are genuine. The paper is watermarked in a way that is created especially for classified documents to authenticate them, and the ink is the same brand used by the laser printers in the DOD offices."

"So it's true? All those people...Walter...they're really dead?"

"That I don't know yet. My next stop is a visit with Director Kersh to see if he cares to shed some light on this." Mulder paused. "They also got a print off the envelope. I have a theory about all this, but I'd rather share it with you in person. Kiss Moira for me, I'll see you soon."

"Okay, call me back after you see Kersh. I love you." Scully hung up the phone, her mind going in a thousand directions. Who would want them to have this information? Krycek? Someone in the government?

There wasn't much Mulder or Scully could do with the information anyway. The government was just an artifice left in place by the colonists to make people think nothing had changed. They had no real power any more; the aliens had a firm grip on the Earth. She and Mulder had allowed Moira's cord blood and placenta to be used to create a vaccine against the alien virus and the black oil, but the vaccine only worked in about half the population. Scientists were still trying to find out how and why the vaccine worked so selectively. And now they had to work completely underground. Many of those scientist's names were on that accursed document, executed for trying to save their race. Scully was just lucky her name wasn't one of them.

Mulder was practically ready to jump out of his skin after twenty minutes of waiting outside Director Kersh's office. He heard the voice of the new Assistant Director, John Doggett, coming from inside the office. They obviously didn't care how long they kept Mulder waiting. The assholes were probably enjoying it.

Finally Director Kersh opened his office door and silently gestured for Mulder to come in. Mulder followed him and sat down in one of the two chairs facing the desk, trying to look casual.

"No one gave you permission to sit down, Agent!" Barked Kersh. He was so angry Mulder could practically see the veins standing out in the other man's neck.

Mulder stood, his back straight, looking Kersh directly in the eye. "I wasn't aware this had become a military installation and I needed permission to sit, Sir."

"I want to know where the hell you got these documents you gave to forensics. These are classified and confidential. You could go to jail for a very long time for having them in your possession." Kersh continued his tirade.

So, these babies are the real deal Mulder thought to himself. He eyed Doggett out of the corner of his eye. The new Assistant Director leaned casually against the desk, his face expressionless.

"Agent Scully reported that the envelope was slipped under the door of our apartment at approximately 9A.M. She was unable to attempt to pursue the person who left them there as she was off duty and was at home with our daughter. She called me as soon as she retrieved them and we followed bureau protocol for retrieval and handling of evidence." Mulder wondered to himself if Kersh was really going to try to arrest him for this. Wouldn't that be a riot? "Sir, are those documents valid? Were all of those people really convicted of those crimes and executed on those dates?" If he was up to his neck in shit already he might as well go for broke.

"Yes, Agent Mulder, these documents are valid, but the DOD is not ready to release a report on this yet. The executions were carried out as an act of good faith towards the colonists against people who were found to be working against them to sabotage the goodwill mission they are performing here on Earth. The Bureau regrets that AD Skinner was among them, but there was abundant evidence that he had worked for years to undermine the efforts of the colonists to make this...transition...as easy as possible for everyone concerned."

Mulder rested his hands on the desk and leaned into Kersh, giving him a look of pure loathing. "If that is true, then why are I and Agent Scully still alive?"

Kersh was not intimidated by Mulder's seething anger. "You are walking a fine line, Mulder. You are still alive because you've had protection from your enemies by your father. Not Bill Mulder, your real father. He insured your survival by allowing the genetic experiments done on you by the colonists. The alterations made to your DNA could come in very useful to them in the future. Have you not figured this out yet Agent Mulder? Spender led you to that ship so that you would be taken, so that you would be more useful to the colonists alive instead of dead. He lost Jeffrey and Samantha; he didn't want to lose all of his children. He's getting sentimental in his old age. As for your family, their survival comes from pure benevolence on his part. So instead of working against him every chance you get you'd better consider yourself damn luck you are Bill Mulder's son in name only, Agent. You are dismissed, and if I hear one word about these documents from any corner of the globe I will personally make sure you are held accountable for the repercussions." With that Kersh took out a Zippo lighter and allowed the flame to lick at the corner of the documents until they caught fire, then dropped them in the metal waste bin next to his desk. Mulder watched in horror.

"Agent Mulder, I said you are dismissed." Kersh repeated.

Mulder turned on his heel and retreated quickly from the office. As soon as he was in the hallway he took out his cell phone and dialed his home number. "Scully, reformat your hard drive right now and unplug the modem from the cable line. Those documents are real, and we're in deep shit for having them. Who ever gave them to us either thought they were helping or wanted us dead," he said his goodbyes and closed the phone, off to satisfy his burning curiosity about the identity of the fingerprints found on the envelope.

Mulder returned home that evening just an hour before Scully had to leave to pick John up from work. She'd spent the afternoon rehearsing how she was going to tell John that they had confirmation of Walter's death. He wasn't going to take it well. She was terrified he would start using drugs again or even attempt suicide. Nothing had convinced John that he could have a life without Walter.

Mulder's haggard expression as he came through the front door did nothing to quell the unease in Scully's stomach. "What did you find out?" she asked.

He sat down on the couch and patted the cushion beside him, indicating she should join him. She sat down and he pulled an old grainy photograph from a manilla envelope. The picture was dated 1978. "How many people do you recognize in this picture?" he asked her.

She pushed her glasses further up her nose and examined it closely. "That's CGB Spender, I think, so I guess the little blond boy is Jeffrey. I don't recognize the other two."

"She shoots and scores," he said wryly "That is Spender and dear little Jeff. The man with him is Nathan Bates, the former owner of Science Frontiers and all it's subsidiaries. The kid with him is his son Kyle."

"So what's your theory here? You think Bates was part of the Syndicate?"

"I'm sure of it," he said, pulling some papers from the envelope. "Look at these contracts. The government has been funding Science Frontiers patenting of genes for years. They gave him enough money to patent the use of certain genes that it probably set the human genome project back 50 years."

"Okay, I'm with you so far, but what does this have to do with the document?"

"This is the really bad part. The prints we lifted from the envelope belong to Kyle Bates."

"Nathan Bates son? What do you think he's doing? Do you think he's continuing his father's work? Or just running around causing havoc wherever he can like Krycek? And for what reason would he give us this evidence?"

"No, it gets far more complicated than that. I had the gunmen do some legwork for me. Kyle Bates does work as an independent covert op, but he usually works as a courier for the network of scientists still working on the vaccine. He's got a long history of doing everything possible to derail his father's work, including tipping off various guerilla animal rights and environmental organizations about company research secrets."

"I still don't get it. Why would he give this information to us? Who is he working with that was able to get original DOD documents?"

Mulder frowned. "Well, I hated to butt into John's personal life, but the gunmen found plane tickets and car rental receipts, and I couldn't ignore the connection. Kyle Bates has flown in and out of DC and Chicago on the same dates John has for the last three weeks. So I called Kerry Weaver. She's met the guy. Scully, my theory is that John is seeing this guy and he gave us the information because he wanted John to know that Walter was really dead."

Scully groaned. "Oh God, Mulder, he told me yesterday morning that he had met someone. Do you think this guy is trying to use John in some way, or this is all some horrible coincidence?"

"It could be love, or he could be trying to use John to get to us. Knowing what we know about Moira's immunity to the alien's biochemical weapons, it's rather disconcerting that the underground rebels haven't contacted us before, don't you think? And we all know what they did to me..."

Scully rubbed his back. He hated to talk about the genetic mutations the aliens had done to him during his imprisonment on their ship. The aliens now had the ability to initiate his telepathic ability like turning on a light switch. They had only done it once since his return, but he had required powerful anti-seizure medication for the three days it had lasted and had horrifically painful migraines for a month afterwards. They had also done something to the DNA of his sperm, making several recessive traits dominant ones instead. They were unsure of what affect this would have on any children they might have; Mulder had opted to quietly have a vasectomy before he and Scully resumed their sexual relationship after Moira's birth.

Finally she broke the awkward silence. "So you think the rebels could be using Kyle Bates to try and recruit us?"

"In my thinking it's a definite possibility. I think I need to find Kyle Bates and have a talk with him before John sees him again."

"Do you know where to find him?"

"Frohike is working on it. He's got a lead on an abandoned warehouse that might be an underground lab. I'm just waiting for a call."

"Are you going without backup?"

Mulder chuckled. "Well, Kersh is not going to be real open about helping me out on this one. I don't think Doggett would do anything without Kersh's express permission, so I think I'll have to do this one solo."

"No, You're not going alone. I'll get John or Mom to stay with Moira."

Mulder eyed her carefully. "We discussed this. We aren't going to leave our only child an orphan. Besides, I don't want to make John suspicious. Don't you need to go pick him up now anyway?"

Scully glanced up at the clock. "Damn, you're right. I've got to go. I'll take the baby in case Frohike calls and you have to leave. Just leave me a not if you go somewhere."

He kissed her temple, smoothing back her silky hair. "I will. Don't worry; we'll get to the bottom of this. Just don't plug your computer back into the cable modem-if you use it dial in thru the phone line and don't say anything over the telephone you wouldn't say in Kersh's office. After today I'm pretty sure there are eyes in the walls here. Keep your gun close by and keep the baby in the room with you."

She gave him a look. The look. The arched brow and steely blue-eyed look that stopped mere men and beasts in their tracks. "Agent Mulder, I appreciate your concern but I do still have FBI training and I think I remember a little of it."

"Gimme a break, Scully. I'm your husband, it's in the contract that I'm allowed to worry above and beyond the call of duty."

For once Scully was grateful that John was too exhausted for chitchat after leaving work. She didn't want to tell John what they had discovered about Walter without Mulder there, and she was wound up as tight as a drum. John just sank back into the seat and started out the window into the stars. Scully wondered if he was looking for Walter, as she had stared into the same night sky so many times praying for Mulder to come home. She was so goddamn sorry he wasn't going to have the happy ending she and Mulder had.

She dropped John off at the townhouse after inviting him over for brunch the next day. She hoped by then she and Mulder would have a plan.

Moira fell asleep on the way home. Scully carried her carefully into the apartment and laid her sweet sleeping form on the sofa next to her, placing her gun on the coffee table in front of them and trying to immerse herself in some autopsy reports she needed to sign. Mulder's note had said not to wait up for him.

As usual, the gunmen had come through for Mulder with an address that was supposed to be a rebel hideout. It was in a part of town where smart people didn't go after dark unless they were smart people with a crack habit. The windows of the condemned warehouse were all boarded up, but Mulder noted they had been painted black from the outside to further conceal any light within. He walked around the perimeter and found only one entrance that wasn't chained and padlocked from the outside. He'd forgotten to ask the guys if there was a secret handshake or something. Drawing in a deep breath and taking the safety off his weapon, he knocked on the heavy metal door.

He heard noises inside. Finally the door opened just a crack. A brown eye looked through the crack, sizing Mulder up in an instant. "What the fuck do you want?" a deep, gravelly male voice asked.

"My name is Fox Mulder. I'm here to see Kyle Bates. Tell him it's about John Carter."

The door shut firmly. Mulder heard the hushed tones of conversation between several voices and then the door swung open to reveal a compact but well muscled man with thinning brown hair and an Uzi. He casually held the Uzi at a level to rip out Mulder's midsection with the flick of a finger, and his facial expression hinted that it wouldn't bother him to do so.

"Nice and slow, Agent Mulder, drop your weapon at the door after removing the clip and the round in the chamber, then join us for tea," the man said, his tone level and deadly.

Mulder did exactly as he was instructed, then cautiously put his hands up as he stepped further inside the building. A younger man emerged from a room that had probably been the front office of the warehouse, scowling at the man with the Uzi.

"Ham, put the goddamn gun down. I told you it was okay." He walked up to Mulder, extending his hand to shake Mulder's. "I'm Kyle Bates. I won't play twenty questions with you Agent Mulder, I'm pretty sure you're here because of those documents from the Department of Defense you received."

"You mean the documents You shoved under my front door, risking the life of my wife and child in the process," Mulder replied, ignoring the proffered hand. "I want to know what the hell kind of game you're playing and why you've involved my friend and my family in it."

"Why don't we go talk in private? I know you don't have any reason to trust me, Agent Mulder, so you can have your gun back. I won't even tell Tyler over there about the piece strapped to your ankle." Kyle smiled.

The tumblers clicked in Mulder's head and he turned on his heal to face the man with the Uzi again. "The Hamilton Tyler? The CIA's favorite hired gun until you vanished ten years ago? You're the stuff of legends and sealed classified records, Mr. Tyler."

The man shrugged, relaxing his pose and pointing the gun at the floor. "A guy's gotta earn a living. I like earning mine blowing stuff up. The CIA got way too boring during the Bush Administration for me. I moved on to bigger and better things."

"Do you do hits for hire? I know this guy named Alex Krycek..." Mulder joked half-heartedly.

Ham Tyler bared his teeth in some semblance of a feral smile. "I trained Alex Krycek, Agent Mulder. It's not nice to bump off your former students unless they end up on the opposite side of whatever cause you're pulling the trigger for."

Small fucking world. Mulder thought to himself. "That's an excellent philosophy. I'll have to keep that in mind." He turned back to Kyle "Let's go have that talk, shall we? I'd hate for Mr. Tyler to change his mind about killing me before we get to know each other better."

Kyle escorted Mulder into the small office. It was furnished in battered office furniture, and reminded Mulder a bit of his dungeon office with the stacks of unfiled files everywhere. Except even the friggin' underground rebellion had a fax machine and copier in their office.

"Do you want coffee?" Kyle asked, pulling out a folding chair for Mulder.

"No thanks, I want answers." Mulder leaned back into the chair, pulling the photograph of Spender and Bates' late father out of his trench coat pocket and laying it on the desk. "Want to explain this to me?"

Kyle shrugged. "What's to explain? You already know who my father is and what he did, and if I'm not mistaken the other man in the picture is your father, only you didn't know it until a couple of years ago and you still try not to believe it." Kyle gave a small smile. "You don't remember me, do you Fox? Samantha was closer to my age."

"No, I don't remember you. Should I?"

"We played together at a couple of 'family gatherings'. Of course, you and Jeff usually ignored me cause you were older than I was. But I remember you. We probably haven't seen each other in 25 years."

"So if your old man was involved with the project that early on and you're an only child, why weren't you taken like my sister? I thought each family had to give up one kid."

"It didn't have to be a kid. My dad wasn't about to risk the heir to the family fortune-he gave them my mother. Passed off the residual affects of the testing as alcoholism until she committed suicide in 1980."

"Is that why you're working for the rebels? Trying to avenge your mother's death?" Mulder could understand wanting vengeance. It had propelled him through most of his life.

"Its not just that, Agent Mulder. It's just the right thing to do. These aliens have used us as lab rats and are trying to make the human race extinct. If we all have to die at least I can die saying I tried to stop it."

Mulder decided to cut to the chase. "Did you get involved with John Carter to get to me or Agent Scully or our daughter?"

Kyle sat, running a hand through his hair. "I know you aren't going to believe me, but I met John by pure coincidence at a bar in Chicago a few weeks ago. Yes, I put the pieces together after he mentioned your name the second time I saw him, but when I met him all I knew was that he was handsome and smart and I was lonely. And I didn't even know Walter Skinner was dead until a couple of days ago. After I got to know John a little better I saw how much he was hurting and wanted to find some answers for him, so I called in some favors. I don't want to hurt John, Agent Mulder, I just wanted him to know the truth."

"Kyle, for some strange reason I believe you. Even though this all sounds like too much of a coincidence to be coincidence."

"I thought you were one to believe in improbabilities, Agent Mulder. Maybe it was fate." Kyle ventured. "You've been benched at the FBI, you and Agent Scully both. You could be valuable members of the resistance movement. You could help save the human race."

Mulder snorted. "I think my family has already given its' pound of flesh, thank you. My wife has had cancer, my daughter has unidentifiable DNA patterns and the aliens can turn me into their resident mind reader whenever it floats their boat." He paused, thinking of the name on that damned sheet of paper. "And now my friend and boss of almost ten years is dead, and my other friend has to learn to live without the love of his life. At least he has you to help him pick up the pieces," he said bitterly.

Kyle stretched his hands out, palms up, in a gesture of supplication. "Agent Mulder, I'm sorry for Walter Skinner's death. Honestly. I care for John, and I'd like nothing more than for him to have Walter back, because I know no matter what happens he'll never love me the way he did Walter. I can't change what happened; God knows I would if I could. But I can give him closure, and I give it with no strings attached. For him or your family, Agent Mulder." He smiled sadly.

"Honest to God, all I did was fall for a guy in a bar. I never meant for any of this to happen, and I'm sure as hell not proud of being associated with my father or anything his cronies did. I know that Bill Mulder was your father, if not your sperm donor, so to speak, and he tried to get out. He was a good man. He tried to stop it; but it was too big for one man to stop. But at least he tried."

Mulder sighed. He believed him. He knew in his gut the guy was telling the truth. The profiler, the psychologist, and the FBI agent in him all agreed. Kyle Bates was just a guy in love with the wrong man; a bereaved man who couldn't love him in return. Mulder felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for the younger man. He tried to think of something to say, but just as he opened his mouth to put his foot in it someone knocked on the door. A woman in her thirties with curly dark hair poked her head in hesitantly.

"Kyle, Julie is here. Thought you'd want to know," she said, acknowledging Mulder with a small smile and a nod before closing the door behind her.

"I've been here helping to set up a lab for a group of scientists that are working on the vaccine. That's what I do mostly; I go around from city to city finding them safe facilities and obtaining the equipment they need. I also transport samples or data that is too sensitive to trust to the internet. I'm basically a glorified gopher," he said with a grin. "Would you like to see the lab and meet Dr. Parish? She's a great lady, you'll really like her."

Mulder felt that somehow he'd already consented to be a part of this. Surely they weren't going to show their labs to an FBI agent then just let him go on his merry way. But all of his senses told him there was nothing to fear. His curiosity got the better of him. "I'd love to. Lead the way."

The laboratory was impressive. They had most of the items Mulder had seen in the pathology labs at Quantico, and a couple of immunoflourescent microscopes that cost a couple hundred thousand dollars each. Dr. Parish turned out to be a tiny blonde woman in her mid forties who insisted that Mulder call her Julie. She had been a microbiologist at Ucla before going into hiding when her research assistant was abducted from the parking deck at the hospital right after the colonization began last Summer.

"We wouldn't have any of this without Kyle's help," she said, smiling affectionately up at the younger man, causing him to blush. "I don't know where we would be without him."

Ham Tyler appeared in the doorway. "Bates, I need you for a minute."

"I'll be right back Mulder. Give him the nickel tour while I'm gone, Julie."

After Kyle was out of earshot Julie Parish said in a low tone "If Kyle hadn't met Elizabeth, I don't know what would have happened to our research. We would have lost everything. He's been so lost since she died, I'm glad he met your friend John. I see a light in his eyes again."

"Who's Elizabeth?" Mulder asked, confused.

The woman's fine blond brow shot up below a cerulean blue eye. She pushed her glasses up. "He didn't tell you?"

"No, he didn't. I thought Kyle was gay."

"Elizabeth, boy, that's hard to explain Agent Mulder. But I know you'll believe me. After all that was done to your sister, you might be the only one who can believe what the aliens are capable of."

"In 1980, I was a med student at Ucla. I was on OB rotation, and we had a 16-year-old patient brought in by her father. We thought they were crazy; her father claimed she was a multiple alien abductee and she'd been impregnated by artificial insemination aboard a spacecraft. The girl believed it too. We ran all the usual tests and the pregnancy appeared to be healthy and normal. But the girl was hysterical and paranoid and the attending physician put her on the psychiatric ward. After a few weeks she was released on anti-psychotic medications and sent home to her father.

The same girl came into the ER a couple months later at what should have been just 26 weeks gestation and gave birth to a 13 pound 23 inch baby girl who could already hold her head up and follow lights with her eyes within hours of her birth. I got accused of screwing up the chart since she was obviously not a preemie. But I had examined her myself and I knew the dates were right. I suspected the baby had some metabolic disorder or something like that. Until the girl's father called the OB service five days later in the middle of the night. I was on call. He told me they had weighed the baby and she weighed 16 pounds and was 25 inches long. I told them they had to be wrong and to bring the baby in the next day."

She took a sip of coffee and gauged Mulder's reaction. He was chewing on his lower lip and hanging on her every word, so she took a deep breath and continued.

"Well, they brought the baby in the next day. The baby was 18lbs and 29 inches long and her fontanel was nearly closed. She could hold her head up unsupported and had lost her tongue thrust reflex and had a fully developed grasping reflex. She was physically and developmentally the size of a 6 month old baby. I looked at that terrified girl and her father and somehow, despite everything science and medicine told me, I believed her. So I started having them bring the baby into the hospital after hours to a closed office so I could do lab work and examine her. One day about two weeks later they didn't show up or call for a week so I stopped by their house. Elizabeth was the size of a five-year-old. Within a year this child grew to the size of an 18-20 year old woman, and then the rapid growth stopped. But things weren't right. She had the physiological changes associated with puberty, but her pituitary gland never secreted any estrogen or any other hormones associated with puberty. It's as if her DNA had a blueprint of how she was supposed to look, and was able to skip the biological steps humans needed to get there."

Mulder thought of Samantha and a stab of needle sharp pain raced through his heart. Was the same thing done to his sister? If they could do that to an innocent young girl, what could they have done to his baby sister? The very thought made him nauseated.

"By this time I was still at Ucla, but had also joined an organization of physicians who believed in alien abduction and studied the phenomenon of alien abduction. There were doctors of every specialty involved who were far more experienced than I was, and poor Elizabeth was subjected to every medical test know to man. She had so many genetic abnormalities we couldn't count them, so many genes and alleles we had never seen before. Her temporal lobe was like a lightning storm of activity even when she was asleep. She was telepathic and her IQ was off the scale."

She stopped when Kyle came back in the room. His eyes were dark and his jaw was set. "Kyle, we were just talking..." she began.

"I heard you," he cut her off. "You were talking about Elizabeth."

Julie looked down at her shoes. "Yeah, we were. I'm sorry, but I thought he ought to know. With his daughter's immunity to the alien's biochemical agents, I thought he should know what we've seen with the genetic abnormalities they can cause."

Mulder felt as if someone had twisted a knife in his gut. Was she implying that something like this could happen to Moira? Did she know something he and Scully didn't? They certainly seemed to know more about him they the other way around.

Kyle spoke. "I met Elizabeth and her mother one day in the park. I was nineteen, and she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen and I fell so madly in love with her that I followed her home and refused to go away. After a few months of being allowed to sit on the front porch and talk to her but nothing else, her mother and grandfather finally realized they were stuck with me. They told me that she was medically fragile and had not undergone puberty properly. I couldn't legally marry her as she didn't even have a birth certificate, but we moved in to a house a few doors down and lived together very happily for almost seventeen years. Elizabeth appeared to age normally, but some of her internal organs, including her heart, continued to age rapidly. She died with the body of a 35 year old woman and the heart of a woman three times that age. She died of old age. She never went through puberty, so we lived as best friends and companions, but never anything more."

"They didn't tell me the truth until she died, the truth about what she was. And by then they had enough evidence that I had no choice but to believe them. I knew what had happened to my own mother and couldn't deny the truth about her or Elizabeth. That's when I joined the rebellion; before the colonization ever began. I followed your work very closely Mulder, before I figured out how and why Alex Krycek was always two steps ahead of you. So I just followed him around and fucked up his plans whenever I could."

"Kyle, I don't mean to be rude, but how did you end up with John if you were in love with a woman for so long?" Mulder asked, regretting the question as the words tumbled recklessly from his mouth.

Kyle smiled and blushed. "I told you we never had sex. I was a virgin, Mulder, until I was 36 years old, because I was committed to my life with Elizabeth. It was only after her death that I figured out my...preferences..." he trailed off, blushing a deep scarlet.

"I'm sorry Man, that was totally inappropriate question. I am such an asshole sometimes. I apologize."

Kyle shrugged, the blush fading a bit. "Times like this, there's no room for secrets. There have been too many already. I'm glad you know the truth, because I want you to know you can trust us...trust me. I'm not going to hurt John, Agent Mulder."

"And for some strange reason I'm compelled to believe you, Kyle."

Kyle looked at him intently. "How much of this are you planning to tell John?"

Mulder hadn't even considered that yet. He paused for a moment, chewing at his lip again. "I suppose we'll only tell him that Walter is dead. The rest is for you to tell him, but don't wait too long. I don't like keeping secrets from my friends. It has a way of biting you in the ass."

"Yes, I agree. I'll tell him soon. About what I do...about Elizabeth. Just give me time for us to get to know each other a little better."

"Okay, you've got a deal." Mulder extended his hand and shook Kyle's.

Mulder arrived back home to find Scully asleep on the couch, the baby curled like a kitten in her lap. The soft glow of the lamp cast a warm glow on his wife's face, catching her hair and making it glow like a fiery halo. She was so strong and beautiful and brave. He was the luckiest man in the world to have won her heart and he damn well knew it. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on her lips. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled softly. "Hey you. Long time no see. How did things go?"

He made coffee and told her the whole long story. She listened intently gripped with fear as he told her about the genetic mutations in the woman Kyle had called his wife. She asked him a dozen questions about the lab that he had no idea how to answer. He could tell she was intrigued by the idea of being involved with the genetic research, Mulder could tell by the set of her face as she listened to him. He saw the wheels turning in her brain. The sun was coming up when he finished talking. She sat quietly at the kitchen table, turning her coffee mug in her hands.

"Kyle Bates is right, Mulder. The FBI has benched us. The cases they are handing us are ridiculous, and our budget has been cut to nothing. But maybe if we joined them we could still use the bureau's resources to do some good."

"You have a point, but there's a lot of risk involved. Our names could end up on the next document from the DOD," he said glumly.

"So we should hide out and continue to let the Smoking Man protect us for as long as it amuses him?" She looked at him intently, her blue eyes grave. "Mulder, we know what they can do and what they've already done. How can we sit by and let it continue? What kind of future is Moira going to have if we don't do something? I think we have a moral and ethical obligation to seriously consider this. I'd like to meet with Dr. Parish and discuss it."

Mulder felt chilled to the bone. The thought of her being subjected to any more pain or anything happening to Moira unglued him. He was blessed that he remembered little of what had been done to him during his abduction, but he knew he didn't want to have it done to his family.

They went to bed as the sun broke through the clouds, making love as the dawn unfolded on a crisp cold morning. Afterwards they drifted to sleep, Moira in her bassinette next to their bed. Both slept fitfully, dreading the conversation they would have with John Carter later in the morning.

III.

It took every ounce of strength John Carter had to drag himself out of bed after his shift at Georgetown. I'm getting old, he thought to himself. I can't pull keep up these hours, or this lifestyle. I have to pick a city and live there.

He'd pretty much decided he would move to DC. He felt closer to Mulder and Scully than he did his own family, and he felt that his work at the hospital was going well enough that he would have no problem securing the next ER attending position that came open. He knew Walter had left him everything in his will, and his name was on the lease on the townhouse. He would miss Chicago, but this place was his home. It was the home he had shared with Walter, and it being there was the only way he had of being close to him.

Kyle Bates had intruded into John's thoughts more than he liked to admit in the last couple of days. He was disappointed that he hadn't heard from him, or that Kyle hadn't just shown up. But Kyle had made it clear that John had to be a willing participant in this relationship, so John supposed the proverbial ball was in his court. He'd call Kyle after he left Mulder and Scully's place this afternoon he decided.

He found Mulder and Scully both looking rather pale and worn out when he arrived at their house. Scully looked like she had been crying.

"What's wrong guys?" he asked as he scooped a cooing and smiling Moira out of her bouncy chair and into his lap.

"John, we got some information about Walter. Its highly classified information so you can't tell anyone any details," Mulder began.

"I came into possession of some documentation from the Department of Defense that had the names of a couple thousand of the people who have been abducted. They were tried for war crimes and executed, John. Walter's name was there. He died in December." Mulder put his hand on John's shoulder, his hazel eyes moist with unshed tears. "John, I'm so damn sorry."

John felt all the warmth in his body drain away. He didn't realize how much he had still hoped Walter was coming home until that moment. He looked over to where Dana sat on the couch, tears trailing down her face. It was true. He was really dead. dead. dead.

John couldn't think the words enough times to accept them.

He realized tears were spilling down his face and falling on Moira's little head. He kissed her gently and put her in her bassinette, turning to stare out the window. His chest felt tight; he couldn't catch his breath. He needed to hold Walter in his arms and tell him how much he loved him. The need was so real it was an ache in his soul. He could almost feel the weight of Walter in his arms and the smell of their lovemaking on his skin. The sound of his laughter rang in John's ears.

It took John a moment to register that Dana had come up behind him and slipped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to his back. "John, he loved you so much. He wouldn't want you to give up on life. Please don't slip away from us. I know it may not seem like it, but there's still some happiness in the world for you."

He patted her hands where they met around his waist, a waist gone from slender to skinny in the past few months.

He was slipping away; wasting away to nothing in the face of his pain. He's spent months running on fumes while working double shifts and doing anything and everything to not face this moment. But here it was; and Dana was holding on to him for dear life and wasn't going to let him go.

Mulder joined them and wrapped his long arms around John's lanky form, the strength of them holding him up. He wanted to die, but he was surrounded by the love of his chosen family and they weren't going to let him go.

After a long moment of the three of them held in this awkward dance of pain Moira let out a shrill cry and Scully pulled away from John hesitantly.

"I think that was an order for Moira's 24 hour dairy service," she joked, settling on the couch to nurse the baby.

John sat down next to her on the sofa, running his fingers absently over the top of Moira's downy soft head. Yes, there was something still beautiful left in his life. John was going to stick around to make sure this little girl got no ideas about joining the FBI in the future.

"Very few people know about this, but I'm sure Kersh will go ahead now and declare Walter legally dead.

Unfortunately, I could be imprisoned for having this information and we can't tell any of the other next of kin," Mulder said quietly. "For everyone's safety I would be careful how you share the information. I would tell people that Walter has been declared legally dead, not that we have confirmation he was executed. A subtle but important difference that will keep people from asking too many questions."

"Well it's not goddamn fair that people can't ask questions. This is the kind of shit the Nazis did, not stuff that's supposed to happen in fucking America. We live in a police state now, not a democracy. When are people going to realize that the colonists are going to do the same thing to us that we did to the Native Americans when we colonized their land? In a hundred years we're going to be another dead culture in some race's history books," John said bitterly. He felt venom coursing through his veins. He couldn't believe the FBI was going to cover this up and act like it never happened. Walter had served his country in Vietnam and been a federal employee with an exemplary career; he deserved more than this from the government.

They were perfectly willing to brush his death under the rug like he had never existed. John vowed silently that somehow they were going to pay for all the pain they had caused. They were going to pay for Walter's life, and all the years they would never have together.

They sat quietly while Scully nursed the baby to sleep, then she went into the kitchen to fix them all something to eat. They picked at their food, none of them having an appetite.

It wasn't long before John couldn't take the awkward quiet anymore. He needed to clear his head. "Guys, I'm gonna head home. I need some time alone. I think I'll call in sick for my shift tonight and drive the Montero back to Chicago instead of flying. Mulder, can you arrange for someone to come pick up the bureau fleet car? It's still sitting in the parking garage." John just remembered Walter's shirts he'd dropped off at the cleaners. He'd have to go get them today too.

"Come over for dinner tonight?" Scully asked, giving him a tight hug.

"Yeah, I'll see you later. I just need to think. Don't worry, I won't drink," he assured her, answering the silent question in her troubled eyes. "You can do a breathalyzer on me when I come back. I might even go to a meeting today." He hadn't been to an AA meeting since Walter disappeared...since Walter had been around to insist that he go.

John drove home on autopilot, barely noticing his surroundings until he pulled into the parking garage. He entered the townhouse quietly, afraid for some reason to disturb the silence. He suddenly understood the old Chinese proverb about the sound of one hand clapping; that was what he felt like. Without Walter he was incomplete, inconsequential.

John went into the kitchen and got the Murphy's Oil Soap from under the sink. He took it and a bucket upstairs and polished the bedroom furniture until it gleamed. He lined up all of Walter's shoes in the closet, arranged his ties on the tie rack so they all hung at the same length. He carefully unfolded and refolded all of the clothes in the bureau drawers, stacking the tee shirts by color.

Next came the downstairs. He polished all the furniture, vacuumed and scrubbed the downstairs bathroom and the kitchen. When the sun went down the townhouse was sparkling clean and John was still full of nervous energy. He went into Walter's study and neatly stacked all the papers on his desk, filed away the piles of folders, cleaned the picture frames that held Walter's degrees and certifications.

Finally there was nothing left to do, and John had to admit to himself that he had forgotten how to be alone. He realized he had forgotten to call Scully about dinner and she'd probably start worrying soon. He was surprised she and Mulder had even let him leave their apartment today.

He suddenly felt so envious of their relationship. They had been in love before Mulder's abduction; that had been obvious to anyone who saw them in a room together. But Mulder had come back a changed man; something in him had opened up. Before he had been loyal and compassionate-now he was an affectionate and warm friend and a doting husband and father. He'd come home with a full appreciation of what life had to offer and didn't hesitate to express his joy and gratitude for the blessings he had. John had always viewed him as a friend, but the support and comfort he had offered since Walter's disappearance had turned the two men into brothers of a sort.

John had never had that kind of approval from another man in his life, and he'd never realized how much he'd needed it until Mulder had offered it to him. It just wasn't true that you couldn't pick your family; his lived in a small apartment in Alexandria.

The phone rang. It was Mulder.

"You must have been reading my mind, I was just thinking I should call and tell you I would be late for dinner," John said.

Mulder chuckled. "No, I'm not reading minds this week.

Scully just announced she's not cooking, so I can make tuna fish sandwiches or you can tell me what you want on your half of the pizza."

"Ham and pineapple and I'll be there in half an hour."

"Gross. What an atrocity to pizzas everywhere. See you then. Don't dawdle or Scully will be convinced you had a traffic accident or something. She's playing mother hen today."

"Okay, tell her I'm alive and well and sober, I know that's what she's thinking." That was one of the downsides of being a recovered addict; every time you had life crisis the people around you were convinced you would start using again.

"Okay man, see you in a little while," Mulder said as he hung up.

John put down the phone, then reached into his pocket and fished out his wallet, pulling out the piece of paper with Kyle Bates' cell phone number on it. He picked up the phone and dialed the number. It rang several times and John was about to hang up when Kyle finally answered.

"Kyle, it's John."

"John, I was getting worried about you. It's good to hear your voice. How are you?"

"I've been better," John said honestly. He took a deep breath and went on. "The FBI is closing the investigation into Walter's disappearance and declaring him legally dead."

There was a long pause. John heard Kyle exhale slowly.

"John, I'm so sorry. I wish I were there to be with you. Do you want me to come to?"

"Yes, but don't do it. I need to deal with this on my own.

I'm going to skip off work early and drive our jeep back to Chicago. It should only take me about ten hours. I'll call you when I get home."

"Please do. I miss you."

"I miss you too." John was surprised to hear himself say the words, but it was true. He hadn't been able to get Kyle off his mind.

"Drive safely. I'll talk to you soon. If you need to talk you can call anytime."

"Thanks, I might just take you up on that. Goodnight, Kyle."

"Goodnight, John. Try to take it easy and get some rest."

John hung up the phone and was almost ashamed to admit that he felt a little better. He changed out of cleaning agent covered clothes and left for Mulder and Scully's place.

Dinner was a quiet affair. They were all emotionally exhausted. John fell asleep on the sofa watching the Lakers game with Mulder. He woke up early in the morning to the sound of Moira crying to be fed. He heard Scully moving around in the bedroom and sat up, yawning and stretching.

Trying to be quiet in case Moira went back to sleep, he padded into the kitchen and made himself a bowl of cereal and started the coffee pot. He sat back down on the sofa and turned on the teevee to watch Good Morning America, keeping the volume down low.

After a while Scully joined him in the living room after getting a cup of coffee. "Oh, thanks for starting the coffee. It smells so good."

"No problem. I'm going to leave soon. I'm going to bring the SUV back to Chicago with me. I'll probably still fly here for work, which means you'll have to drive me around, but at least I won't be dependent on public transportation in Chicago."

"Are you going to see your new friend again?" she asked casually.

"Yeah, I probably will." He was quiet for a long moment.

"Don't hate me Dana. I'm just lonely. He'll never replace Walter. I'll always love him."

Her eyes were warm and sympathetic. "John, no one is going to hate you. I certainly don't. No one expects you to walk around in sackcloth and ashes for the rest of your life.

You're a young man. You can start over, and no one will think any less of you."

John didn't feel young. Though he was only thirty-one, he felt as if he'd lived a hundred lifetimes in the past four months. And the previous three years had gone by so blissfully fast. Too fast. He wished he could reach and take each moment back, appreciating them for the cherished moments they were. Appreciating Walter for the wonderful person that he had been. Appreciating how blessed he had been to know such happiness.

"I don't know how to do this, Dana. I don't know how to move on. So if I start fucking up, make sure to let me know, alright?"

She smiled. "In a heartbeat, Carter."

When John pulled up in front of Kerry Weaver's house twelve hours later he felt considerably better. The long quiet drive had given him some time to clear his head, and some time to just be alone with his memories. It had almost been like being alone with Walter, just engulfing himself in his memories of their life together. It made John feel more centered.

Kerry was sitting on the sofa watching teevee. She was surprised to see John. "Carter, did you take a cab from the airport? You know I would have come to pick you up. I thought you were working in DC today."

He sat in a chair opposite the couch. "Kerry, the FBI decided to close Walter's case. For reasons I'm not allowed to discuss they have decided to declare him legally dead."

Tears shone in her eyes. "Oh John, I'm so sorry. He was a good man. We all cared about him. I know how much you loved him."

John played absently with the gold band on his finger, twisting it back and forth. "Yes, I do love him. I always will. But I know for certain now that he's not ever coming back. I have to figure out how I'm going to live with that.

I thought we were going to grow old together, and I suddenly have this big empty future in front of me. I'm scared," he said honestly.

"John, you know if you need some time off from work or anything, you just have to ask. County has a very...liberal... policy on domestic partners and you're allowed 4 weeks paid leave when a spouse dies."

John shook his head. "No, working is the only thing keeping me sane. The last thing I need is time off work to sit around and feel sorry for myself. I manage to find plenty of time for that as it is. But I appreciate the thought."

He stood. "I'm gonna go start my laundry. Thanks for everything Kerry. Not just now, but the last few months.

You've been great."

John went downstairs and unpacked the few things he'd brought back from DC, mostly dirty laundry he hadn't had time to do. He loaded up the washing machine and went back to his room, picking up the phone and punching in Kyle's number.

"Hey, I'm home," he said when Kyle answered.

"Good, I'm glad you made it in okay. Was it a nice drive?"

"Yeah, actually it was. It gave me a lot of time to think."

He paused. "Kyle, I'd like to see you tonight if it's not too late. I can come to your hotel or you can come here."

"I'm not staying in a hotel anymore. I found something a little more permanent since I'll be here a little while.

I'm sharing an apartment with a couple of people." Kyle didn't mention that it was a rebel safehouse and he was protecting two scientists that were headed for the new labs in DC.

He hadn't said yes or no. John felt a hitch in his throat when he spoke again. "Well, if you're busy I understand..."

"No, that's not it at all. We just wouldn't have much privacy here. Why don't I come to your place? Want me to bring dinner?"

John laughed. "Am I that skinny? Everybody I know is trying to feed me lately." But he knew the answer. He was cinching in his 32-inch waistline pants with the last notch on his belt to keep them from falling off: he was downright skinny now.

"I think you're pretty damn hot, Dr. Carter, no matter how thin you are. But you do look like a guy who hasn't paid any attention to his own needs in a while."

"Okay, then bring me dinner. Surprise me."

"Will do. See you in about an hour."

They hung up and John had to admit he was both nervous and excited so see Kyle again. Another part of his anatomy besides his brain seemed excited by the prospect too. He cleaned up his room and changed the sheets on his bed.

Thankfully Kerry was in bed when Kyle arrived. They ate quietly in the kitchen, John noting that Kyle had brought him a virtual feast of "comfort foods," chicken noodle soup and egg salad sandwiches and a whole loaf of banana nut bread. While John was loading the dishwasher Kyle grabbed him by the waist and pulled him into a tender, lingering kiss.

"I've been waiting to do that since the second I walked in the door." Kyle whispered in his ear.

Kyle's hot breath against his skin sent all the blood in John's body rushing to an area other than his brain. "Mmmm, I wouldn't mind if you did it again."

When Kyle was done the only thing holding John upright was the fact that he was leaning against the counter. He'd embedded his fingers in Kyle's thick brown hair, giving himself over completely to the warmth of the other man's mouth. Kyle ran his fingers all over John's face, neck and torso while he kissed him, his hands ending up holding tightly to the small of John's back, pressing them into an embrace that left no doubt in either mind about what the other was thinking.

"John, you have no idea what you do to me. I can't keep my hands off of you, Kyle said as he nibbled John's ear.

"You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen. You're eyes, your lips..."

John gave a throaty chuckle and pressed a kiss into the hollow of Kyle's neck. He smelled of sandalwood again. John inhaled deeply, enjoying the heady scent. "Let's go to bed, Kyle."

Kyle nodded mutely and let John lead him downstairs. Once the door was closed behind them John couldn't get Kyle's shirt undone fast enough, desperate to feel the other man's skin against his own. Their clothes quickly ended up in a pool of cotton and denim on the floor.

John pulled Kyle onto the bed and proceeded to ravish him, kissing and touching every inch of him. The first time he ran his hand over the length of Kyle's penis Kyle was already teetering on the edge of release. "Slow down, John, I'm not going anywhere." He implored, moving John's hand away.

John was panting heavily. He wanted to be inside of Kyle so badly. There wasn't enough blood going to his brain for him to think straight. He reached over and opened the bedside drawer. "Shit."

"What?"

"I'm out of condoms."

Kyle kissed him, leveraging himself on top of John, pulling him down onto the bed. "That's okay. I'm assuming you and Walter were both tested?"

John nodded, his eyes closed. "Yeah, I'm clean. I was tested again in rehab since I used IV drugs," he admitted, embarrassed.

"Then I trust you, Kyle said, moving down and taking the head of John's penis in his mouth.

"Oh God!" John shouted, the heat and warmth and suction overwhelming him. He squirmed and bucked at the incredible sensations Kyle was wringing from his body.

It didn't take long. John felt the pressure increasing and new he was about to come. He tried to pull away, giving Kyle a chance to stop if he wished. "Kyle, Kyle, I'm gonna... oh shit..." he saw stars behind his eyes as he bucked upward with his orgasm, hot and cold lightning jolting through his body all at once. Kyle didn't move, or stop. He swallowed John's seed and only let go of John's body once his shaking had stopped.

John pulled him up to kiss him, running his hand down the length of Kyle's body. He ran his thumb over the head of his penis, eliciting a moan from deep in Kyle's chest. John reached for the lubricant and warmed a dollop in the palm of his hand before wrapping the hand around the shaft of Kyle's penis, pumping slowly as his mouth lingered on Kyle's chest, sucking his nipples and nuzzling his face in the sparse hair of his chest. He pumped steadily as he kissed and nibbled the man who writhed in his arms. Kyle dug his hands into John's shoulders and arched his back, a low "ahhh" escaping from his mouth as he came.

Once the shudders had left Kyle's body John kissed him once more and slipped from the bed, going to get a towel. He brought the towel and a warm wet washcloth back to bed, gently cleaning the semen from Kyle's and his own stomach before drying Kyle and planting a tender kiss right below his navel.

Kyle wrapped his arms around John. John relaxed into the embrace, his head tucked under Kyle's chin. He could feel Kyle's heart beating beneath his cheek. The embrace was deliciously warm and intimate. They stayed that way for a long time before Kyle finally spoke. "John, do you want to talk about Walter?"

John sighed. "Officially, I can't. The bureau records are classified and all I'm allowed to say is that he's been declared legally dead. I can't talk about the evidence, but it was sufficient for me to believe that it's true. I wish they would release his body for burial, but apparently he's been dead since December and there is no body now."

Kyle nodded in understanding. "I can't visit Elizabeth's grave either. It hurts. I wish I could go leave her flowers, or sometimes just go talk to her. One day, when all of this shit is over and I have permanent place to call home I'm going to put up some kind of memorial to her."

"Why can't you visit her grave? Is she buried really far away or something?"

John felt Kyle's arms tighten around him. "John, I have to tell you something. Elizabeth...she wasn't normal."

He very quietly told John the story of Elizabeth's life and death, a few tears escaping from his eyes as he spoke. John didn't respond for several long seconds. When he did, his voice was soft but determined.

"Kyle, I'm so sorry. I hate the government for letting all this happen. My friends in DC, the ones that are FBI agents, they knew for years that this was going to happen and no one believed them. Walter knew it too. Mulder was abducted last year. They did things to him, mutated his DNA. I'm so sick of sitting by and let all this happen.

I've heard rumors that there are underground groups of dissidents trying to find a way to stop the colonization.

I'm seriously considering finding a way to help them." He held Kyle tightly, feeling so close to him. They had both been robbed of their loved ones by the government and the aliens. No wonder they had felt so drawn to one another.

Kyle let him go and sat up on the edge of the bed, looking deep in John's eyes. "John, I didn't plan to tell you all this tonight. I just wanted to be here for you, to be with you, but I don't think I'm gonna find a better time to bring it up. I work for one of those dissident groups. I help scientists who are going underground get to safe houses and kinda help them vanish. I also work as a courier for information between the labs. I'm currently working on bringing in some scientists here in Chicago to a base of sorts in DC."

"Wow. I had no idea. I can't believe you didn't run in the other direction when I told you that Walter was with the FBI."

Kyle took his hand, running his thumb over the knuckles.

"The reason I didn't is I knew who Walter Skinner was the minute you said his name. John, I also know your friend Fox Mulder. My father was part of the consortium he worked so hard to expose. My father knew Spender and Mulder's father Bill."

John froze. "So, is that why you got involved with me? Is that why you're here, to get to Mulder somehow?" he thought of Moira and her immunity to the alien viruses. He stood, reaching to pull on his jeans. "Are you trying to get to the baby to experiment on her some more? Mulder and Dana already did everything they could to make the vaccine. No one is going to touch Moira."

Kyle stood and put his hands on John's shoulders. John shrugged him off. "John, no! I met you by total coincidence. Look, John, Mulder already came to see me. I assured him that no one was trying to use him or his family. I probably should have run in the other direction when I met you, but I couldn't. I was so lonely, and you are so kind and smart and handsome and I was so fucking attracted to you the minute I saw you. And now I'm not just attracted to you, I care about you. Please John, believe me."

His eyes were pleading and sincere. John wanted to believe him. He didn't want to lose him. And if Mulder had believed him then maybe he was telling the truth. If Mulder hadn't believed him he would have told John all of this.

"Why didn't Mulder tell me all of this while I was in DC?"

"I asked him not to. I felt it was my place to do it. I wanted to be honest with you, but it's not like everybody spills every skeleton in their closet the first few times they go out with someone new. And you were hurting so much John, I wanted to be there for you, not get you all bogged down in my personal shit too."

John let Kyle pull him into a tight embrace. "John, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm telling you everything I can without compromising my work. Please believe me. I don't want to hurt you. I would never hurt your friends. We asked Mulder to join us, yes. They are really interested in getting Dr. Scully on board, but if they don't seek us out we won't ask again. We're trying to give people back freedom, not help take even more of it away."

John rested his head on Kyle's shoulder. "I believe you.

It's just a lot to take in at once."

Kyle stroked the top of his head. "I don't want any secrets between us John. I have hopes that maybe when you can start thinking about your future again I'll be in it. I really care for you. As soon as I knew this was more than just a fling I knew I would tell you everything, but it didn't seem prudent to do it over the telephone."

"Kyle, I care about you too. But I need time. This isn't just a fling, but I don't know what it is yet. I just can't see making the same kind of commitment to anyone else that I had with Walter, not right now. Can you understand?"

"Yeah, I can. We'll do what we said; we'll be honest with each other and take things as they come. But I'll be here, I promise." He smiled gently. "So every time we go to bed you don't have to act like it's the last meal of a starving man."

John laughed. "Can I help it if I can't keep my hands off of you?"

Kyle laughed and hugged him tighter. "It's kinda cute.

You're like a hormonal teenager. It's very flattering."

"So dad, since I ate a full meal can I have a beer? Just one?" John pleaded. He wondered when he was going to be "recovered" long enough that anyone would trust him to at least have alcohol, which wasn't what he'd even been addicted to in the first place.

"Yeah, let me get some clothes on and I'll going you."

They dressed and went upstairs to retrieve a couple of beers from the refrigerator. They sat on the sofa and watched a basketball game and talked. John told Kyle of his long-term plan to eventually move to DC as soon as he got a permanent job.

"I could help you with your rent and stuff if you want to go ahead and move. In a couple of months I'll be out there permanently myself. Well, semi permanently. With what I do I end up bouncing between two states at one time while I facilitate the move and help set up facilities. Last time it was LA to Chicago. Sometimes the people trying to go underground have to bounce around a lot to avoid detection; sometimes people put private eyes on their tails.

Especially if they were in a position to have any sensitive information." He took John's hand. "But if DC is your home it's mine too. I think my home is wherever you are, John Carter."

John couldn't respond. His throat was tight with emotion.

He couldn't believe how willing Kyle was to put his heart on his sleeve and offer it to John. John wished he could open up enough to do the same, but his heart screamed that he just couldn't do that yet. Time. He just needed time.

Kyle spent the night and left early in the morning, before Kerry woke. It had felt wonderful to John to go to sleep with someone's arms around him. He slept deeply and dreamlessly. It was a comfort after so many nightmares in the past few months. Kyle kissed him tenderly and brushed John's hair from his face as he prepared to leave. "What's your work schedule like?"

"Surprisingly humane. Two 7p's to 7a's, then three 3 to 11's then two days off."

"So you don't go in tonight until seven? Wanna do lunch? Or dinner? I could meet you at that place across the street from the hospital."

"Doc Magoo's? Sure, why don't we meet about five?"

"Great. See you then." He smiled at John from the door and closed it behind him.

John rolled over onto the spot where Kyle had slept, enjoying the warmth and smell Kyle had left behind. He yawned and settled back to sleep.

As soon as he woke up again at 10am he called Mulder's office.

"Mulder, why didn't you tell me about Kyle?"

Mulder sighed. "He asked me not to. He wanted to tell you everything himself. I'm assuming he did."

"Yes, he told me everything last night. I just wanted to make sure you really think he's on the up and up."

"Yes, I do. I've done some investigating of my own and everything he told me pans out. The only problem I have now is talking Scully out of going to work for that lab. She's all gung-ho about it."

"Mulder, I'm giving it serious thought myself. We have to do something."

"John, stop. There are ears everywhere. Some things are better discussed in person."

John assumed that meant Mulder thought his line was bugged, and dropped the subject. "Okay, I won't be back your way for about a week. Keep an eye on the place, okay? Oh, and could you go by the dry cleaners and pick up Walter's shirts? And don't tell Dana about that."

"Sure man, no problem. I'll pick them up and hang them in the closet."

"Thanks. I know I have to do something with his things, I'm just not sure what yet. It feels too soon."

"Then don't do anything you aren't ready for. Just wait until it feels like the right thing to do."

"Yeah, that's what everyone keeps telling me. I guess I just don't like feeling like I'm always waiting. Waiting til I'm ready, waiting til it feels right. I'm ready for something to feel right again. It hasn't for so long."

"John, you're being way too hard on yourself. Stop pushingthat won't accomplish anything. You're not gonna recover from losing everything in just a couple of months. I know I didn't."

Mulder didn't talk much about his abduction. He didn't remember much of what had been done to him, and he seemed to just be so damned grateful that he was home that he put the whole thing behind him.

"At least you came back though. Walter isn't."

"Yeah, but I had no idea I was ever coming back until I woke up walking down the interstate in Oregon. And the telepathy; it was pure hell being able to read Moira's perceptions of her in utero life and thinking I would never see her. And knowing how tormented Dana was, and not being able to reach out to her. It was hell. Pure hell. Dante` couldn't have come up with anything worse."

John felt a pang of sympathy for his friend. Sometimes he got so wrapped up in his own shit that he forgot how many millions of people were suffering right now. And how much people like Mulder and Kyle had suffered for years before the rest of the world even knew the truth.

"That must have been awful."

"Yeah, but that's a story for another day," Mulder said briskly. "I've gotta run, man. I'll talk to you soon."

"Okay man, later." John hung up the phone. He hated that he had dredged up such upsetting issues for Mulder, but he felt a lot better about the situation with Kyle knowing that Mulder approved of him.

When John got to Doc Magoo's at quarter til five the place was packed. Several of his coworkers were sharing a table and hailed him over.

"Carter, where the hell have you been? You practically disappeared on us." Dave Malucci said.

"Well, I'm moonlight in another state. I'm either working or on a plane to go to work somewhere."

"I heard that the authorities have declared Walter legally dead. I'm really sorry, man."

"Yeah, well, it's definitely not what I wanted to hear, but it's better than not knowing what happened to him." John replied.

"John, why do you keep staring at the door?" Mark Greene asked. "Are you waiting for someone?"

John blushed to the tips of his toes. "Yes, I am. His name is Kyle. He's a friend of mine."

"Is that the same guy Deb Chen said came looking for you a couple of weeks ago?" Dave asked.

John's hands suddenly felt clammy. "Yeah, that's him."

Mark smiled. "So is this a friend, or a friend "friend"

Carter?"

John laughed awkwardly, silently planning his friend's untimely deaths. "You guys are such assholes. This is not Jerry Springer. My personal life is none of your business."

Dave laughed, slapping his hand on the table. "You are busted, Carter! This isn't just a friend, this is a date.

So how long have you been seeing him?"

"Dave, how 'bout I break your face? Yes, alright, he's more than just a friend. I've been seeing him a couple of weeks and if you ask me another fucking question or act like a shithead in front of him I'm going to fix it so that no trauma team in the state can put you back together." As John spoke he saw Kyle come in the door. He waved him over, scooting his chair over to make room for Kyle to sit.

He stood as Kyle came over to the table. "Kyle Bates, this is the doctors Dave Malucci and Mark Greene, and Randi, our desk clerk, who has been thankfully quiet this evening.

Everyone, this is Kyle."

Kyle shook hands with everyone and sat down next to John.

"How did you sleep?" Kyle asked in a low voice for only John to hear.

John smiled, squeezing his hand under the table. "Just great. Let's eat. I'm starving."

Mercifully John's coworkers excused themselves when John and Kyle's food came.

"So did I pass inspection?" Kyle joked.

"I think so. One thing you'll learn about people who work in hospitals is there are no secrets, from the surgeons to the janitors everyone knows everyone else's business. By time I get to work everyone in the whole ER and probably surgery will know I've got a boyfriend."

Kyle grinned boyishly. "Does that mean I've officially made it to boyfriend status?"

John kicked him playfully under the table, grinning. "Yeah, I think so. You feed me pretty well and you're an incredible kisser."

Kyle was still smiling, but his eyes were serious. "John, I don't plan to see anyone else. I don't want to be with anyone with you. If that's not what you're looking for, I hope you'll tell me."

"I don't plan to see anyone else either. I want to be with you Kyle. I think declaring this a monogamous relationship from here on in would make me happy. Do you agree?"

"Agreed, Kyle said, a sunny grin breaking out on his face.

John was pleased to have made Kyle so obviously happy. He looked down at his hands, noticing again the gold band on his left hand. He wondered if he should take it off, but he couldn't stand the thought. He also wondered if it bothered Kyle for him to still be wearing it. He noticed Kyle no longer had on a wedding band. Maybe he should put it on a chain and wear it around his neck.

After dinner they walked out to Kyle's car and stole a couple of quick kisses when no one was looking before John went in to take report. John's heart felt light for the first time in months when he entered the ER. God help him and Walter forgive him, but he was actually happy.

End part 3

Losing everything part 4

By Deathstryke

Dana Scully sat at her kitchen table, surrounded by piles of reports that required her signature or some other detail, a cup of coffee growing cold next to her laptop.

She was lost in thought. Her conversation with her husband about the network of rebel scientists had dominated her thoughts for days now.

Everything in her screamed that joining them was the right thing to do. Her family had suffered so much at the hands of the aliens and the human traitors who had facilitated their colonization of earth. If she wanted her daughter to have a future they had to do something. The government most certainly would not. They had too eagerly accepted the "gifts" the aliens brought; genetic research lifetimes ahead of human capability that produced crops immune to any fungus or parasites, cures to diseases such as leukemia and sickle cell anemia. She supposed it made it easier for them to believe that the aliens were offering humanitarian aid instead of taking over the planet.

Mulder didn't want her to do it. After his years of fighting to uncover the truth of this conspiracy, risking both of their lives numerous times in the process, he was now a man simply terrified of losing his family. But she knew him better than he knew himself. She knew he longed to do something to stop this, or at least resist it. But each time they looked at Moira they were stopped short by the realization that it was no longer just their own lives they risked.

But if they didn't fight back Moira might have no future at all. Nor would any other man, woman or child on the face of the earth. She and Mulder had lost siblings, parents, and friends to stop this from happening. They couldn't stop now. Moira was no safer with them passively standing by and letting aliens take away their home, their freedom. They owed her more than that. They owed it to Samantha, Melissa, Bill Mulder and Walter Skinner.

She picked up the telephone and punched in a number.

"John, it's Dana. Can I have Kyle Bates' cell phone number?

I need to talk to him about something he said to Mulder last week." She jotted the number down as John Carter called it off.

"Yes John, I'll be careful. Take care."

She hung up the phone and stared at the telephone number for a long minute, making her decision. She dialed the number.

"Kyle, hello, this is Dana Scully. I'd like to talk to you about your meeting with my husband last week. Yes, this line is secure. I'd like to meet with Dr. Parish about and talk to her about what kind of assistance I can offer from my end."

Kyle told her to meet Dr. Parish at a coffee shop in a less than affluent part of town. She wrote down the address and told him she would meet the other woman there in two hours.

She considered calling her mother to stay with the baby, but she felt safer taking her along. Margaret Scully was a woman in her early sixties with a touch of arthritis and osteoporosis; Dana was a woman with a semi automatic handgun. It was an easy choice to make.

She nursed the baby and changed her diaper before swaddling her in her fleece bunting. She stuck her cell phone and car keys in the diaper bag and her weapon in the shoulder holster before shrugging into a linen jacket. Sweaters just didn't hide the holster as well as jackets did. She left Mulder a brief note that she would be home in a few hours and locked the door to the apartment.

Scully watched carefully to make sure she wasn't being tailed as she drove through town. After a few miles she was satisfied that no one was following her. She found the coffee shop, a nondescript restaurant that looked like the many others owned by the same food service company.

She lugged the baby, car seat and all, into the restaurant. A sleeping Moira was not a creature one wanted to disturb, especially when you wanted to avoid attention. She saw a blonde woman about her size sitting in a booth in the back.

She wore a turtleneck sweater and her hair up in a bun, her wire rim glasses slipping down her nose as she read from a book. Scully approached her carefully and asked in a low voice " Dr. Parish?"

The woman looked up and smiled. She looked closer to Dana's age than the 45 she actually was. "Yes, I'm Dr. Parish. You must be Dr. Scully, and this little darling must be Moira."

"Yes, but please, Dana is fine. I'm so used to Agent Scully that I might not answer if you call me Dr. Scully."

"And call me Julie, please. I still think of Dr. Parish as my father, not me."

A waitress approached and both women ordered coffee.

" Dr. Parish, I wanted to talk to you about some of the things my husband told me you discussed with him about your organization." She spoke in a low tone, keeping her expression blank. "I want to help, but I need to know what exactly that entails."

Julie Parish pushed her glasses up her nose, stirring cream into her coffee. "That depends on how involved you want to be. I started out just slipping information and some supplies out of my own labs at Ucla, but they were on to me and I had to go underground. I've been bouncing all over the country for the last few months to keep them from finding this lab. But in a way I'm glad to be fully committed now. It's hard leading a double life, having to look over your shoulder every moment. I don't have access to all of the resources I did before, but Kyle has a knack for making sure we get what we need."

"What kind of work are you doing exactly?"

"Right now I'm studying the gene mutations in abductees trying to find some kind of pattern to the mutations. We're going to attempt the same mutations in lab animals and see what kind of results we get. Some of the mutations don't make any sense. They seem harmless, but they aren't patterns that are normal for human DNA so we just can't know for sure."

Dana looked at her, the two pairs of blue eyes reading each other carefully. "You know both my husband and myself have been abducted, and he expresses some of these abnormal gene patterns you're talking about."

Julie nodded. "Yes, I knew that. One area I hope to study is the cancer that is caused by the removal of the implants. I suspect that nanocyte technology was utilized, but I need some humans who have had the cancer to study.

Not many are willing to come forward and be experimented on again. One can hardly blame them, but the only way we're going to uncover what the aliens plan to do with us is to figure out what purpose these genetic mutations serve."

"I'd be fine with giving you a blood sample. I don't know how much help I can be in your genetic research other than that. I'm an MD, not a geneticist."

"You could learn, and your expertise in forensics would be better than nothing. There aren't many of us, and an extra pair of hands always gets the work done quicker. Your husband would be a lot of help too. His knowledge of the consortium and his immunity to the black oil would be invaluable, as well as the opportunity to study his DNA."

"I'm not sure if we're ready to consider going underground.

I mean, we've always been under suspicion. The FBI's most unwanted." She smiled.

"I was given the impression that your husband at least has gotten away with a lot of what he does because he is afforded a certain amount of protection by Spender."

Dana looked down into her cup. "Yes, that's true. And one never knows when he'll decide he no longer feels generous and we'll both be dead. Or Mulder's brain will be used as a human translator for the aliens to read our thoughts through him. That could be a potential security risk for you."

Julie nodded in agreement. "Yes, it could be. So why don't we start with just some blood samples from the two of you if you don't mind? We can make arrangements for other assistance you might be able to provide through Kyle. It'll look less suspicious since Kyle is dating your young doctor friend."

"Is that why Kyle is dating John? To facilitate this communication with us?"

Julie sighed. "No, Dana, I can assure that while their meeting has certainly been beneficial it was entirely accidental. I think Kyle is falling in love with John, which concerns me a great deal. I doubt John is ready for such a commitment yet, but Kyle has spent most of his life committed to things he couldn't touch and he's desperate to be loved."

"You mean Elizabeth Maxwell. Mulder told me about her. I have to ask you, Julie, do you have DNA samples from her?

If I gave you a sample from Moira could you compare them to see if they have any of the same abnormalities?"

"Yes, I could do that. But I don't think you have anything to worry about. Your baby is what, a couple of months old?

Elizabeth was the six of a five or six-year-old by that age."

"I would still feel better if you did a comparative analysis. With Moira's dual immunities, we've been concerned that there could be other abnormalities."

"No problem. I would be glad to do so. I wanted a sample from her anyway, but I certainly wasn't going to ask you to do that. There's only so much a mother can be asked to do."

Dana smiled again. She liked the woman already. She was compassionate and understanding. "I have some Edta tubes at home.

I can do the blood draws there and have Mulder bring them over. I think that's safer than bringing Moira to your lab. I'm sure the fewer people that know where it is the better."

"Yes. There is one more thing you could do if you're willing to consider it. Elizabeth's mother, Robin, is living at the lab. If you were to hire her as a housekeeper or a nanny that would give her a pretext to move about in the city and would make it easier for her to move information back and forth between us. Kyle isn't always readily available. Sometimes he's in transit or out of communication entirely depending on what he's doing," she sighed.

"And he's worked so damned hard for the last couple of years, I'd love to let him take a break and just spend time with John, which is all he seems to want to do lately."

Dana sipped at her coffee. "I'll discuss it with Mulder. If she was willing to do some babysitting I could get a lot more work done at home. You know, I think Kyle is good for John. John's been so depressed for months, he was really sliding downhill quickly.

But Kyle seems to make him happy. John's young and he'll find love again, but there's no convincing him of that."

"That reminds me so much of Kyle last year. He finally met someone and dated him for a while, but Kyle was in the thick of things and always on the move and the guy thought Kyle was cheating on him or something, so they broke up. But he talks about John all the time.

I'm just hoping he doesn't get his heart broken. He's so fragile in a way. Losing Elizabeth hurt him so much. His dedication to her was incredible."

Moira interrupted with a plaintive cry.

"Oh boy, that's a milk cry," Dana said, discreetly hitching up her shirt just enough to put the baby to her breast.

"It's great that you're breastfeeding, it's so much healthier for the baby." Julie commented.

Dana smirked. "Yeah, especially when all the baby formulas are made with corn syrup from the new alien genetically enhanced corn.

No Frankenfood for us, thanks."

Julie laughed. "I like you, Dana. It's been such a long time since I've been able to talk with anyone who gave a damn about medicine.

I'm alone in my lab with an ex CIA operative, a bored as hell medieval history student, and a love-struck millionaire. I met a guy about a year ago that I really clicked with, but he's in hiding right now. He's wanted for questioning by the authorities for sabotaging some news broadcasts at the teevee station where he worked. I don't know when I'll get to see him again."

"Well, I need to get going. I didn't tell Mulder where I was going and he'll be worried. I'll make arrangements to get the blood samples to you in the next few days. Is calling Kyle the best way to reach you?"

"Yes, we don't have a phone at the facilities. We have electricity, but it's only hooked up in the lab. We use kerosene lamps and heaters in the living quarters. We don't want the power company to notice the meter is running there again, as Kyle and Tyler used some creative engineering to hook the power back up."

She stood to shake Dana's hand. "It was really great to meet you.

I hope to hear from you soon."

"You will, I promise." Dana buckled the baby back in her seat and departed the restaurant, checking carefully again to make sure they had not been watched.

When she arrived home Mulder was waiting for her. "Where ya been Scully? I was getting worried about you."

She put Moira in her bassinette and watched the look of concern on Mulder's face as she removed her gun and holster. "I met with Dr. Parish."

His expression was neutral, but his eyes went dark. She knew immediately that he was upset. "And you took the baby with you?"

"Yes, I did. If I can't leave her with you or John I'd rather not leave her at all. Dr. Parish is doing some research on the alien genetic mutations, and she'd like blood samples from all three of us. I told her we'd do it."

Mulder sighed and flipped the grilled cheese sandwiches he was cooking. "I know it's the right thing to do, but I hate subjecting you and Moira to more tests. You've been through enough."

Scully came up behind him and leaned in so her cheek was against his back. "But if we don't do it we may go through a hell of a lot more before this is over. And it may not ever be over. We have a responsibility to do what we can to put an end to this. She also asked us to consider hiring one of their members as some sort of household help to give her a cover for transporting information in and out of the city. I could use someone to watch Moira while I get some work done. If I can keep my bureau work up to date then Kersh and Doggett won't suspect I'm doing anything behind their backs, and I won't have to go into the office as much. I think it's a good idea."

"Who is it? Not that under cover op with the machine gun?"

"No, it's Robin Maxwell, Elizabeth's mother."

"Don't you think that will be a little awkward for John?" he asked as he slid the sandwiches onto a plate. Even working from home part time now this was about as far as his cooking repertoire had expanded.

"It might be, but John will have to live with Elizabeth's ghost just as Kyle will have to live with Walter's. It's not like neither of them is bringing any emotional baggage into this relationship. And if I do end up doing research for them, it would be safer to send it by hand than over the phone lines." She took him by the arm and turned him to face her, her blue eyes looking gravely into his hazel ones.

"Mulder, I have to do this. We have to do this. It's the right thing to do. We have to put aside our fears about what's already been done to us and think about what could still be done to us if we don't find a way to stop it."

He put his arms around her. "As usual, you're right. I know you're right, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm scared shitless over the idea of losing you or Moira. And what about the fact that the aliens can use my brain as a radio anytime they see fit? Won't that make me a security risk, not to mention the fact that having it done to me fucking sucks."

"Julie and I discussed that. But you already know where their base is, and when they're using you you can read the thoughts of anyone in your proximity, which would mean you could tap into me, John, Kyle, and later even Moira. You can't control it. It's just a chance we'll have to take. I'll find a way to get some IV supplies and Depakote and Dilantin so we can head it off at the pass if it happens again."

Mulder gave her a sarcastic grin. "You mean I shouldn't just wear an aluminum foil hat all the time? I read in the Illuminati that's supposed to work."

She gave him a gentle shove and scowled jokingly, going to the refrigerator to make a salad so she didn't have to eat the butterladen sandwiches he had made for dinner.

It had only been an hour into John's shift when the call came asking him to interview for an attending ER position at Georgetown Memorial. He hastily made plans with the ER director to conduct the interview on Thursday, his next day off at County General.

John didn't know if he could last the two days until then. He was so happy he was floating.

Over the course of the evening his thoughts sobered as he wondered how he could spend time with Kyle while he was living in the home he had shared with Walter. He just couldn't bring Kyle there. He couldn't make love with him in the bed he and Walter had bought together and christened over and over again with their passion.

The townhouse was just as Walter had left it, holding vigil for all of John's hopes that Walter would come home and all would be as it had been before.

John was still waiting to realize that wasn't going to happen. It hit him in little waves, lapping at the edge of his heart and mind. He kept waiting for some immense revelation that would allow him to accept it, but it came in smaller packages. Phone calls that didn't come, an email he would write and then realize Walter would never receive. Life insurance forms the FBI sent him to fill out as Walter's next of kin. All small, painful reminders of the truth, but not enough for him to fully believe this all wasn't some terrible dream he would wake up from soon. The only time he really believed Walter was gone forever was when he was with Kyle, because he wouldn't be with Kyle if there were any chance he would ever see Walter alive again.

John went through the rest of his shift in a daze, his emotions muddled. Part of him was blatantly elated at the possibility of an attending position, and the prospect of starting over in DC, but he was also saddened at all he would be leaving behind. He loved Chicago, fucking terrible weather and all. He'd grown up here. But he knew it was time to move on. He couldn't live in Kerry Weaver's basement forever. He had to face the townhouse and the memories it held and try to make it his home even without Walter.

By Thursday John was a nervous wreck when he boarded the plane. He wanted a drink so badly, but common sense won out of his frazzled nerves. He tried to nap on the short flight but all he could do was fidget in his seat like a child waiting for Christmas morning.

He took a cab from the airport to the hospital. He didn't want to have to face Mulder or Scully if the interview went poorly. He readjusted the knot in his tie a dozen times during the short ride. His collar felt too tight and he felt overdressed in his best suit. John's style was a bit more Eddie Bauer than Armani.

The director offered John the job on the spot. It took John less than a heartbeat to say yes. He had two weeks to pack up his life in Chicago and start full time at Georgetown. He took a cab to the townhouse and was glad to see the FBI fleet car was still there.

Mulder must have forgotten to send someone to pick it up. John was relieved that it started after sitting unused for 5 months.

He drove to Mulder and Scully's to find Margaret Scully there with Moira.

"Hi Maggie, where are Mulder and Dana?"

"They're both at the office for some meeting. How are you John?

You've actually got some color in your cheeks. You look happy. I'm glad to see you smiling again. I know how hard it's been for you since Walter disappeared."

"Yeah, I have something to celebrate for once. I got an attending position at Georgetown, so I'll be moving here permanently. This was what Walter and I had been planning all along."

"Congratulations John, that's wonderful news." Maggie leaned down to pick the baby up from her bouncy seat. "Isn't that great, Pumpkin? Uncle John is going to live here all the time so you have Granny and Uncle John to spoil you rotten." She cooed at the baby.

John felt the familiar sadness encroaching that Moira would never get spoiled by her Uncle Walter, who would have loved her so much.

He wondered if every good thing that every happened to him would be tainted by the fact that Walter wasn't there to enjoy it with him.

"Maggie, you can push off if you want to. I'll stay here with Moira. Moira and Uncle John have lots of playing to do, don't we darling?" he grinned at the baby and got an impressive spit bubble in return.

"Well, Fox and Dana should be home by five and I do have some errands to run, so I think I'll take you up on your offer. She's just had a bottle and been changed, so she should conk out on you pretty soon." She handed her little granddaughter off to John and reached for her coat. "Thank you John, I hope to see you soon now that you'll be moving here."

"You too Maggie. Drive safely." John settled onto the couch with the baby in his lap, watching her coo and gurgle and wave her tiny pink fists in the air. "Moira, are you Uncle John's best girlfriend? Yes you are sweetheart. Just you wait, Uncle John is gonna teach you to play basketball even better than your daddy. He thinks he's so good cause he's taller than everyone else, but we'll show him. And you're gonna grow up and do something really important, but nothing to do with the government or Uncle John will break your daddy's kneecaps." He nuzzled his cheek against the baby's velvety soft head, luxuriating in the sweet innocence of her company. He couldn't have loved her more if she were his own.

As Margaret Scully predicted Moira was soon asleep in John's lap.

John carefully slipped his cell phone out of his pocket and punched in Kyle's number, anxious to share his good news with someone.

"Bates." Kyle answered.

"Kyle, it's John."

"Oh, wow, John, I'm so glad you called. I miss you like crazy. How are you? Where are you?"

"I'm in D.C. I've got great news. I got the attending job. I'll be moving here permanently."

"That is great news." He lowered his voice and whispered in a hushed tone. "I really miss you, John. I'd like to throw you on the nearest piece of furniture and ravish you."

The very thought made John's heart beat faster. "Sounds lovely.

When are we going to be able to see each other again?"

"Well, as luck would have it I'm across town from you right now.

Would you like to meet somewhere?"

John groaned. "Oh, I can't. I'm babysitting Moira til five."

"Then how bout I come over there?"

John wondered fleeting in Mulder and Dana would mind before answering. "Sure. Let me give you the address."

They hung up with plans to meet in half an hour. John moved Moira from his lap to her bassinette, and wheeled the bassinette carefully into the nursery. He turned on the baby monitor and turned it up load enough that he could hear her breathe from the receiving end in the living room.

He helped himself to a beer from the fridge and sat down to wait for Kyle. A half hour passed before Kyle knocked on the door. Kyle whistled when Kyle answered the door.

"Whoa, Doctor Carter, Armani suits you, literally. You look incredible."

John blushed. "Thanks. I've been dying to get back into some jeans, but the look on your face made it worth staying in the monkey suit for a while."

Kyle closed the door and pulled John into his arms, kissing him deeply and thoroughly until John's head swam and his erection strained against his gray wool suit pants.

"Oh God." John moaned when he came up for air. "How do you do that Kyle? There's no documented medical evidence that you can liquefy someone's bones..."

Kyle didn't give him time to answer. He pulled John down onto the black leather sofa and undid his tie and the first three buttons of his shirt. He left a trail of fiery hot kisses from John's ear to his collar bone. John wanted nothing more than to lose himself in Kyle completely.

He stood silently and removed his jacket and vest. Kyle stood in front of him and unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, sliding the starched white cotton from John's shoulders and hanging it carefully over the back of a chair. John pulled at Kyle's leather jacket, whispering in his ear "You, naked, now."

Kyle nodded mutely and complied quickly. Soon both men were down to their underwear and wrestling passionately on the couch, hungry for one another's touch. John had learned that he loved a particular trait of Kyle's that Walter had not shared; he liked to talk during sex.

"My God John, you are so sexy." Kyle panted in John's ear while he ran the pads of his thumbs over his nipples. "You have no clue what you do to me. You make me crazy. I can't stop thinking about you."

John gasped, panting heavily. He slid his hand down Kyle's belly and past the waistband of his briefs. Kyle groaned and John grinned slyly in satisfaction. He gently rubbed the head of Kyle's penis until Kyle was thrusting against John's hip, chanting his name.

"If you want to make love I have get up and get a condom," John whispered in Kyle's ear, running his tongue along the lobe. Kyle shivered.

"No, I trust you. I don't want to feel anything but you."

John chuckled, his voice deep and throaty. "I still have to get up and find some lube Sweetheart."

Kyle kissed him again and released him. John padded into the bathroom and rummaged in the medicine cabinet. Nothing. He went to Mulder and Scully's bedroom, all too conscious of the fact that he was running naked around his best friends' apartment. He looked in their bedside drawer and laughed when he found a bottle of banana crme flavored Motion Lotion. He couldn't imagine the two of them doing anything remotely kinky; using this was probably their idea of a wild time.

He took the bottle back to the living room and dangled it in front of Kyle. "I think we should see if it's really banana flavored."

He teased.

Kyle grinned. "But not on the leather couch. I don't think your friends would appreciate that."

John grinned, spreading a blanket from the back of the couch on the floor. "I think Moira was conceived on that couch, actually."

He drew Kyle down onto the floor and rolled him onto his back, rubbing the lotion into his back, then licking and kissing his way down the man's spine. The stuff didn't taste half bad, and the small moans and shivers from Kyle only made John's own desire grown. He pressed his penis into the cleft between Kyle's buttocks at he devoured his shoulders and back.

"John, Jesus, please." Kyle moaned as John spread the lubricant between his buttocks and gently inserted two fingers into his anus. John found him relaxed and ready.

"On your hands and knees." John instructed, his breath coming hot and fast.

Kyle complied and in one motion John entered him, grasping Kyle's hips with all his strength. Kyle pushed back to take him further inside.

Their lovemaking was slow and gentle, with Kyle whispering loving things to John and John responding in turn with things he'd never said before to anyone. He was giddy with the powerful feeling of Kyle's responses to his touch.

John climaxed then used his hand to help Kyle find release. Both were exhausted and panting from exertion on the green chenille blanket before long, holding one another as they quaked and shivered from the adrenaline coursing through them. John held Kyle tightly, realizing with wonder how much he had come to depend on the other man in such a short period of time. He really cared about him. He hoped Kyle realized it, because he just couldn't bring himself to say the words yet. He kissed Kyle's brow tenderly, hoping the gesture conveyed his feelings.

They both stiffened when they heard a key turn in the lock. John looked up at the clock on the wall and realized it was 5:15. "Oh fuck, it's Mulder and Dana."

When Mulder opened the door to his apartment his saw two naked men streak past him and slam the bathroom door behind them. He pulled his tech 9 from its holster and stepped carefully into the apartment. He moved silently down the hallway, gesturing for Dana to go in the nursery with the baby. He approached the bathroom door and called out "FBI, come out with your hands up. If you have a weapon, open the door and kick it out."

A trembling voice responded. "Mulder, it's John. I'm in here with Kyle."

Mulder was trying hard not to burst into laughter, but lost any vestige of control when Scully approached him, holding out the bottle of Motion Lotion she'd found on the floor. He leaned against the wall, laughing so hard tears welled up in his eyes.

John opened the door just a crack. "Mulder, could you please hand us our clothes?" he asked contritely.

Mulder wiped at the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, snorting in his effort to stop laughing. "Did you fuck on my leather couch? That banana stuff will leave a stain."

John turned an impossible shade of red. "No, but you might want to throw that blanket on the floor in the wash. We didn't realize how late it was. I'm so sorry."

Still laughing, Mulder went to the living room and retrieved the clothes scattered all over the living room floor. He noticed John's wool Armani suit draped over the back of Scully's desk chair. "Hey John," he called down the hallway. "Do you want your suit or do you want some sweats?"

"Sweats please." John yelled back.

Mulder got the sweats from his dresser drawer and went back to the bathroom door. He heard the shower running. "I'm gonna open the door, close my eyes, and toss your clothes in," he said. "One, two, three!" and on three he opened the door wide enough to toss the clothes on top of the hamper and shut it tight behind him.

A few minutes later two considerably embarrassed men came out of the bathroom and into the living room. Mulder and Scully were sitting on the couch, mirthful smiles on both their faces.

"Did we interrupt something?" Scully asked innocently.

Kyle extended his hand to her. "Hello Dr. Scully, I'm Kyle. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Dana took his hand. "You too, Kyle, though I must confess I didn't expect to see quite so much of you on our first meeting."

He blushed four different shades of red. "Julie told me to thank you for sending the blood samples. She'll let you know if anything turns up. She also said Robin will be coming by tomorrow around 4pm. If that's a problem let me know and we'll make other arrangements."

"No, that's just fine. John, we spent the afternoon in Kersh's office wrapping up the paperwork on Walter's case. He's officially legally dead. I brought you copies of all the paper work. You should be getting a check from his pension fund and life insurance in a few weeks."

John sobered, and looked grateful when Kyle gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm planning on putting the money in a trust for Moira's college education. Walter would have wanted that."

Dana watched the silent exchange between the two young men, and gave her husband a knowing look. She'd looked at Mulder like that for almost ten years now. John was falling for Kyle Bates, and falling hard.

"Kyle, would you like to stay for dinner?" Scully asked.

"Sure, I'd love to," he replied.

The baby cried in the next room. "I'll get her," John said, going to retrieve her. He carried her back into the living room and handed her to her mother.

"She's trying to latch onto my shirt, Scully, I think she's hungry."

Dana lifted her shirt and let the rooting baby latch onto her breast. Moira gulped hungrily.

"She's not the only one who's hungry," Mulder said, grinning goofily at his daughter. "What will you guys have? Tuna fish, grilled cheese or we can order a pizza."

Half an hour later they were all sitting around chatting while eating pizza and drinking beers. John was happy to be out in public with Kyle, glad that he had his closest friend's approval of the relationship. It was nice to hold someone's hand in public again.

Two weeks later John's relationship with Kyle was officially out of the closet. John invited Kyle to come to his farewell party at County General and Kyle gladly accepted. The event was tearful on both John and his co worker's parts. He really was going to miss them all. He felt like he had grown up there. He noted sadly that Lucy Knight should have been there too. Wherever she was, he hoped she and Walter were in a better place.

After leaving the party John spent his last night in Kerry Weaver's basement. He and Kyle made love on the narrow twin bed and fell asleep in each other's arms. Before John drifted off he could swear he heard Kyle whisper "I love you." In his ear. John eased into a deep and peaceful sleep.

It was a crisp clear Saturday at the end of March when John packed the last of his belongings into the Montero and prepared to leave Chicago. Kerry Weaver hugged him tightly with tears in her eyes.

"Please don't be a stranger John. Keep in touch."

"I will." He promised. "You've been great Kerry. You've been a wonderful teacher and more of a friend than I deserved sometimes."

He kissed her on the forehead. "Thank you for everything."

John made the drive with a cloud of melancholy hanging over him.

He was starting a new life, but he wasn't sure he was ready to leave the old one behind. Kyle was definitely more than just a casual part of his life now, but John still hadn't invited him to the townhouse. It still felt like Walter's space, and John still wanted to feel as close to Walter as possible.

The sky was shimmering with pink predawn light when John arrived in D.C. He pulled back the deck curtains and watched the sun come up, deciding the boxes in the car could wait until later. It was just a few changes of clothes, some cds and a bunch of medical journals anyway.

During the long quiet drive he'd made a decision. It had been the hardest thing he'd ever done in his entire life. Now all he had to do was wait for a socially acceptable hour to call Dana Scully and ask her help in executing it.

Later that afternoon Dana arrived with the baby in tow and the back of her car full of empty cardboard boxes. John unloaded the boxes and carried them upstairs to the bedroom. Dana followed him, laying the baby on the bed to finish her nap. John opened the closet door and was engulfed in the smell of Walter that washed over him from the clothes hanging in the closet. John took the sleeve of a shirt and held it to his nose, inhaling deeply. A lone tear weaved its way down his cheek.

"Are you really ready to do this John?" Dana asked tenderly. John was trembling all over.

He nodded. "Yeah, I have to do this. It's time. I can't keep renting hotel rooms to spend time with Kyle because I can't handle bringing him here. I have to do something."

Dana sat down on the edge of the bed. "You know, a few weeks after Mulder disappeared I packed up some of his things in the office, including his nameplate off his desk. It wasn't that I didn't want them there; I did more than anything in the world. I wanted to sit and look at them all day and think of him. I wanted it all to be just like he'd left it so I could pretend he'd just gone for coffee and would be back any second. That's exactly why I had to put those things away. I didn't get rid of them, but I had to put them where I couldn't see them. Things were different, and I had to do something to remind myself of that or I would have sat there at his desk and daydreamed all day. They say the outer reflects the inner; maybe it's true. Maybe you have to change the outer to let the inner accept the change."

John nodded again, understanding the jist of what she was saying.

Perhaps in order to accept that Walter was gone he had to stop keeping the townhouse arranged as a picture of their life together. He wasn't ready to redecorate or anything of the sort, and the thought of cleaning out Walter's study made him physically ill, but he'd gone to the hardware store earlier then came home and spackled over the bullet holes in the wall downstairs. Dana had come to help him pack up Walter's clothes in the closet.

They went about their task somberly, meticulously folding Walter's shirts and suit pants and jackets, John labeling each box with the exact contents before moving them to the downstairs closet. John went through the dresser drawers and kept most of the sweats and tee shirts for himself, packing away the socks and sweaters and underwear and ties. He went to the antique box on the dresser and fished out the engagement ring that had once belonged to Sharon Skinner. He handed it to Dana.

"This if for Moira. You can keep it safe until she's ready to wear it."

"Thank you John. I can't wait to tell her one day who gave it to her and how much he would have loved her." Tears welled in her eyes. Walter had been so gentle and protective of her during her pregnancy. A close friendship had developed during their search for Mulder, and he'd become far more than just her superior at work; he'd become almost a father figure, or at least the older brother Bill had never been to her. Bill had barely spoken to her since she'd told her family her unmarried catholic self was carrying Mulder's child. The quick wedding ceremony in the library of the Hoover building a mere week before Moira's birth had not warmed Bill to Mulder one iota.

By late afternoon Walter's clothing and shoes were all packed neatly away in the hall closet downstairs and the new bedding John had bought was on the bed. The flannel sheets and duvet cover had come from Ikea, John fondly remembered his last shopping trip to Ikea with Walter that had gotten him dubbed "Ikea Boy" by his lover. Walter had indulged the fact that John preferred flannel sheets year round. Their argument in the store over flannel verses cotton knit sheets had been so domestic and pathetically cute.

John had felt like they were an old married couple. The memory made his heart clench painfully. He'd had no idea how damn hard this was going to be.

Later in the evening Mulder arrived with more empty boxes. John stared blankly at the teevee with Moira in his lap while Mulder and Dana went through Walter's study, packing up all the FBI and Xfile related files to take home with them, leaving all the tax papers and vehicle registration forms and bank statements where John could find them. Occasionally Mulder would come out of the room with a book in hand and ask John if he could have it. John said yes without even looking at the . His only instructions had been that he wanted everything related to the FBI out of the house. He also gave Mulder all the handguns in the house; Walter's service weapon and two personal guns he had owned. John detested guns.

Mulder and Dana left around midnight. John had been awake 36 hours now and was seeing double. He went upstairs to the bedroom and opened the closet again, looking at the neatly hung rows of chinos and button down oxford cloth shirts that made up his wardrobe. His running shoes and three identical pairs of brown loafers were in the shoe rack. His ties and suspenders hung on Walter's battery operated rotating tie rack, a joke gift from John their second Christmas together. It looked like the closet of a single man.

John sighed heavily, refusing to cry yet again. Dear God he missed Walter. He climbed into the bed with the soft new navy blue flannel sheets and fell into a fitful sleep.

He dreamed of Walter. They were standing in the hallway, Walter dressed as if he were leaving on a business trip in his crisp white shirt and tailored suit, his suitcase on the floor at his feet. He kissed John sweetly on the lips and then the forehead, whispering "Goodbye Love." In John's ear. He picked up the suitcase and walked out the door. John screamed for him to stop, don't go, don't leave me, I love you, but Walter walked away as if he didn't hear John's desperate pleas.

John woke screaming Walter's name, the sound of his voice reverberating off the walls of the bedroom, bouncing the sound of his misery across the room like a banshee gone wild with grief. He got up and turned on every light in the house before settling back to sleep.

"Good afternoon sleepyhead." Kyle's voice said over the telephone.

John looked at the clock and saw that it was 1p.m.

"Damn, I didn't mean to sleep so late. How are you?"

"I'm fine, it was you I was worried about. Dana said you guys had kind of a rough day yesterday."

"Yeah, well, I've had better. It was hard but I'm glad it's done."

"I know what you mean. Selling the house where Elizabeth and I lived was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life.

Letting go isn't easy."

John looked at the wedding band on his finger. "No, it's not."

"Would you like some company? I'll bring you breakfast in bed and dessert too, Kyle said suggestively. John could here his smile in the tone of his voice.

His throat was so tight he almost couldn't get the words out. "Not yet Kyle. Just not yet. Soon. Why don't I get dressed and come over there?"

Kyle sighed. "Sure, why not? Ham's the only one here, and you know how soundpro of the walls are. At least only one of my colleagues will hear me begging you to fuck me." He couldn't keep the aggravation from his voice. The fact that he was the only one living that was getting laid on a regular basis made him the brunt of many jokes at, especially when John came to the warehouse cum rebel compound. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what they were doing when they disappeared into Kyle's tiny bedroom and locked the door.

"Kyle, I'm sorry. I'm trying. I really am. Soon, okay?"

"Okay John. See you in a little while?"

"yeah, let me get a shower and get dressed and I'll be over."

John pondered his hesitation to bring Kyle to the townhouse while he let the hot water of the shower pour over him. He too was admittedly tired of having quickie sex on Mulder and Dana's living room floor when they weren't home or at the warehouse where they had to be as quiet as possible or everyone in the building knew they were going at it. But he still saw the townhouse as Walter's domain. It had been their home. He didn't want to create new memories there; he wanted to live in quiet despair with the old ones.

John let himself into the compound with the key Kyle had given him, calling out as he opened the door. "Ham, don't shoot me, it's John." John had no doubt Ham Tyler would shoot a stranger coming through that door on the spot. Mulder had told him a few stories about Hamilton Tyler, and the man was single-handedly responsible for a handful of military conflicts in third world countries. All funded by the US government, of course.

Kyle came out of the common area and hugged John. "Hey Medicine Man. How does it feel to be an official resident of the District of Columbia?"

"Well, it's not official until I get a new driver's license, but so far it feels pretty good. It was nice not having to worry about pissing Kerry off by using all the hot water or not loading the dishwasher after I ate."

"Try living with three other people and two of them women. It's like having a houseful of mothers. And I get all the flack cause no one would dare tell Ham what to do."

"Do you still have to go to LA next week and pick that Donovan guy up?"

"Mike? Yeah, I have to bring him his fake ID. Those three friends of Mulder's are really fucking weird but they were very helpful in getting the forged passports and driver's license."

John chuckled. "yeah, the Gunmen aren't bad guys. A little geeky, but their hearts are in the right place. They live to be subversive." He put his arm around Kyle's waist and nibbled on his ear. "So where is everybody?"

"Ham is around here somewhere, Julie and Scully went to some library to do some research and Robin is at their place with Moira."

"Hey, your mother in law is moving in on my quality time with my little princess." John teased.

Kyle snaked his hand down the back of John's jeans and grabbed his ass firmly, pulling him closer. "Would you rather be here with me about to laid or watching the baby sleep?"

"Mmmm..." John responded, melting into the embrace. "Tough call. I think I need some convincing."

Kyle kissed him as if his life depended on it, possessing John's mouth completely. One of his fingers found its way between the cleft of John's buttocks and traced a feathery circle around his rectum, instantly making John painfully erect. He could feel Kyle's own erection poking into his bony hip. John moaned "Oh Jesus Kyle, I can't stand up if you keep doing that."

"Good God, you two get a fucking room!" the voice made the two men jump. Ham Tyler wore his usual irritated expression as he came into the room.

"You're just jealous!" Kyle tossed over his shoulder as he and John headed for his room.

Once the door was closed behind them John took Kyle's face between his hands and kissed him, sucking and nibbling on his full sensual lips as their tongues clashed and collided. John pulled Kyle's shirt off in one swift motion and began working on his button fly jeans.

"Damn 501s," he muttered. "I'm getting you breakaway pants for Christmas."

Kyle gave a throaty chuckle and peeled away John's Henley shirt, tossing it on a chair. Soon Kyle's jeans were around his ankles and Kyle was on his knees devouring his penis with his mouth. John ran his fingers through Kyle's hair, his head swimming in a haze of desire. Kyle started rimming him with his finger again and John had to muster up his voice to speak.

"No, I want you inside me," he said, the words coming out a barely audible whisper between panting breaths.

Kyle stood and the both stepped out of their pants and underwear.

John laid down on the bed and tried to assume an alluring position, his penis so erect it pointed like an arrow to his belly button. Kyle reached into a cabinet on the headboard for lube and a condom. John took the condom away and put it on the nightstand.

He looked at Kyle, his eyes dark with passion. "I want to feel you."

Kyle nodded, awed at the level of trust John had just conveyed in those few words, and desperately aroused by them. "Lay on your side," he instructed John.

Kyle laid down beside him and kissed and licked his way down John's neck, back and buttocks. John was trembling in his arms when he applied the lubricant to his rectum and began to slowly slide his fingers in and out of John's anus. John played with his own penis as Kyle penetrated him with his hand. His desperation to feel the now familiar fullness grew and he begged. "Now Kyle, please..."

Kyle obliged. He entered John in one smooth motion. John cried out in pleasure, pushing back to receive his lover completely. Kyle grabbed his hips and took control of their motions, pulling John towards him with each thrust. When he felt on the verge of climax he took hold of John's penis and began to slide his hand up and down the velvety soft skin of the rock hard shaft. His own climax came as he felt John's hot semen spill out onto his hand and John's shouts of ecstasy. Before he could stop himself he heard himself saying "I love you John, oh God I love you." As his brain function was reduced to the level of random sparks of light behind his eyes.

John grew still and silent. As Kyle's brain and body reconnected he pulled out and kissed the back of John's neck. "I'm sorry John, I know that's not what you wanted to here. I'm sorry if I've made this to intense too fast."

John rolled over and looked at him. "Kyle, it was really nice to hear someone say that to me again. And I do.care.very deeply for you. This isn't a fling. I can see myself needing this in my life, but I think I'm scared."

Kyle kissed his forehead. "You think too much."

John chuckled. "yeah, I suppose I do."

V.

Friday afternoon by 2 p.m. John was feeling pretty pleased.

His first week at Georgetown had gone smoothly and he'd made it two nights alone in the townhouse in a row without having a nightmare. As he was sitting down to sign his charts, Sheryl, the desk clerk, handing him a pink piece of paper.

"You got a phone call while you were in with that guy in curtain two Dr. Carter."

"Thank you, Sheryl," John said, reading the note. It was from someone named Darryl Camp. John didn't recognize the name. He picked up the phone and punched in the number.

"Yes, this is Dr. John Carter returning Mr. Camp's phone call," he said to the woman that answered the phone.

John listened to a bastardized version of a Rick Springfield song while he was on hold. A few seconds later a man came on the line. " Dr. Carter, this is Darryl Camp.

I'm Walter Skinner's private attorney."

John's chest suddenly felt too tight to breathe. "What can I do for you Mr. Camp?"

"I was very sorry to hear that Walter passed away. I have a letter that he left in my care about eighteen months ago that is addressed to you, only to be read upon the event of his death. I'm sorry I waited so long to contact you, but I knew Walter pretty well and wanted to wait until the FBI finished their investigation so they didn't try to collect the letter as evidence."

John started to shake, and the receiver felt slick with perspiration from his clammy palm. "That was probably very wise of you. I'll be off duty in an hour. If you give me your address I'll come pick the letter up."

"It's a little more complicated than that, Dr. Carter.

Walter left very specific instructions. The letter is in a sealed envelope, and you are to open it and read it silently in my presence, then seal the letter in a second envelope and I'm to burn it in the presence of a second witness."

How very cloak and dagger, John thought. Sounds like something the Lone Gunmen would cook up. "Sure, that's fine. Just tell me where to come."

John wrote down the address and agreed to meet Mr. Camp at 3:30. "Oh, Mr. Camp, am I allowed to bring a witness of my own? More for moral support than anything."

"Yes, that's fine. I'll see you then."

John's next call was to Dana Scully. "Dana, I need you. I have to go Walter's lawyer's office and I really don't want to go alone. Can you meet me at the hospital at three?"

She promised to meet him and he hung up. He barely made it through the rest of his shift. When Dana arrived he was standing outside of the ambulance bay smoking a cigarette and pacing the small enclosure. She frowned at him.

"We're taking your car. You're not riding in mine when you smell like an ashtray."

"Fine, fine, let's go. I don't want to be late."

They arrived at the office of Darryl Camp at exactly 3:30.

It was a small but luxuriously furnished office. The receptionist showed them into the inner office and offered them coffee as they settled into buttery-soft leather chairs that swallowed them whole. A moment later Mr. Camp came in, a tall formidable-looking man in an Evan Piccone suit and the distinguished air to go with it. He was old money-John had learned to spot it from a mile away after years of cocktail parties at the family mansion.

John stood and shook his hand, feeling very small and shabby in his Dockers and Ralph Lauren button down with a little blood on the right cuff. But Darryl Camp had a big, open smile to go with his air of power and control. " Dr. Carter, I'm pleased to meet you. I didn't see much of Walter while the two of you were together, but he spoke very highly of you." He shook Dana's hand, bowing slightly.

"Mrs. Mulder."

Dana raised an eyebrow. "Actually, it's still Agent Scully, but thank you. I changed my marital status, not my name."

John scowled in her direction. He was about to have a heart attack and she was arguing semantics with this guy.

Couldn't she see he was about to pass out?

Mr. Camp sat down behind an oak desk as big as John's dining room table. From the middle drawer he pulled a manilla envelope. Inside it was a creamy ivory envelope with the words "John Carter" scrawled in Walter's familiar script. John had to remind himself to breathe before he had a panic attack. Damn he wanted a drink.

" Dr. Carter, you are to open and read this in my presence, divulging the contents only if you wish to. After you have read it the letter is to be resealed in another envelope by your own hand and burned in front of a second witness.

Agent Scully can be our witness unless you would prefer my secretary come in."

"No, Dana stays," John said, reaching for the envelope.

With trembling fingers he slid a finger under the flap and carefully unsealed the envelope. He pulled out the single sheet or thick ivory paper. His breath left him in an audible sound as he saw the familiar handwriting. Walter had loved to write him letters. Passionate, loving, sexy letters that said all the things that didn't come easily to a man as reserved as Walter. John had every single letter Walter had ever written him. And now in his hands he held the final one he would ever read.

He willed his eyes open and began to read to himself.

I love you, John Carter. I can't say it often enough or show it in enough ways for you to ever know how truly and completely I mean it. You are my soulmate, my partner, my friend.

If I cannot be with you then I wish a long and happy life for you. Get married, have children, enjoy the sunset and the stars. Remember me with love, but don't do what I know is in your nature and deny yourself all the happiness left in the world for you. It would pain me deeply for you to not drink deep of the well of life. One day when we are together again you can tell me the stories of the wonderful life you lived and entertain this old man who loved you well.

You are precious, John, and strong. I know you will do incredible things with your life, and know that you walk your path with my love, pride and admiration always. You healed this broken heart and gave me a new life. You made life worth living again. If I cannot be there to love you I hope you find someone who appreciates the wonder that you are, John. I will rest easy knowing you are being loved as you deserve.

Be happy, dear one, and know that we will see each other again someday. If Mulder is right and there's such a thing as starlight, I'm shining down on you and wishing you joy in all your days.

Yours Forever, Walter>

John shook with the effort of containing his grief, his hands balled into fists as the paper fell to the floor and tears raining down his face. Dana came to his side and kneeled next to him, her hand on his knee, offering the only comfort she could.

Darryl Camp and Dana Scully stayed silent as John cried quietly, all artifice of dignity and decorum stripped from him in his pain. As his sobs abated and his tears dried Dana asked softly. "John, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I am," he said, sniffling. "I didn't deserve him Dana. I did nothing to earn being loved so much."

Her blue eyes held his brown ones, her look one of sadness and affection. "John, you were you. For Walter, and me and Mulder and Moira that's enough. You don't have to earn it.

We just love you because you're you."

John held her tightly. "I love you too." Those words were so hard for him. He'd tried his whole life to earn them from a cool aloof family, and he'd never learned to say them freely.

Finally John sealed the letter in the envelope Mr. Camp handed him and watched as he set it on fire in a large ceramic ashtray with a Zippo lighter. It didn't matter. The words were engraved on his heart.

Scully drove them back to the hospital to pick up her car. "Do you want to come

home with me John? You don't look like you need to be alone."

John shook his head. "No, I do need to be alone. I have to stop being rescued

every time something happens. I have to learn to live with this." He didn't even

have Kyle to rescue him this time; Kyle was in LA and couldn't be reached.

Dana squeezed his hand. "Don't drink, and call if you need anything. And eat something."

John gave a short bark of a laugh. "Yes, Mother. Now go home and get off my case. And thanks for today. Really. I couldn't have gotten through it without you."

"Yes you could. You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for John. Goodnight." She climbed out of the car and John got into the driver's seat.

The stars were bright in the clear night sky when John finished dinner and sat out on the balcony of the townhouse. John thought of the letter and wondered if one of those glowing orbs was really Walter's spirit shining down on him. The thought was comforting.

"Walter," he heard himself say softly, feeling kind of silly for speaking aloud. "I'm in love. Not the way I loved you-nothing else could ever feel like that. But I do love Kyle. I guess I've been waiting for some kind of sign that you were okay with that, and in a way I got it today. I'm never going to forget you or stop loving you, but I think I'm ready to make some kind of commitment to Kyle. He's been so loving and patient with me; he deserves for me to at least try to give some of that back. I'm finally going to invite him here. I think there's finally room in my life for my memories of you and some new memories too. He'll never replace you Walter. I'll always wish we had had the chance to grow old together. I love you."

The stars didn't answer, but John felt warm inside. His love for Walter and his love for Kyle blended together into a decadent feeling of happiness that he

hadn't felt in a long time. He'd needed Walter's blessing, and somehow he felt that he now had it. Leave it to Walter to reach out from the great beyond and make things okay for him, just as he'd always done. He wasn't letting go, but he was ready to move forward.

John rose Saturday morning feeling like something amazing had happened to him. He was so happy he couldn't contain it. He went to the deli and bought bagels and croissants and fruit and lox and showed up on Dana and Mulder's doorstep at 8 a.m. Dana opened the door and grinned to see John looking so happy and relaxed.

"I come bearing food!" he exclaimed. "anyone hungry?"

"Definitely, we just woke up. Mulder went for a jog, he'll be back soon.

Come on in."

John set the bags down in the kitchen. "Where's my princess?"

"Still sleeping, thank god. She only woke up three times last night, it's a new record," Dana replied as she spread cream cheese on a bagel and sat down at the kitchen table. "John, there's something I need to talk to you about.

Sit down."

John finished adding sugar to his coffee and sat down at the kitchen table with her. Dana's blue eyes were serious, but she had a mysterious half-smile on her face. She looked almost embarrassed. "What's up, Dana?"

"John, this is really hard for me to ask, and I feel terrible brining it up after yesterday, but it's important." She took a deep breath and sipped her coffee. "I got my period yesterday."

If she had a point it flew right over John's head. "Yeah, and...?"

"John, you're a doctor. Think about it. I hadn't had a period since my abduction until I started yesterday. It means there is a possibility I'm still fertile."

"Dana, that's great."

"Well, there's a little more to it than that. Julie thinks that the alterations in Mulder's DNA trigger the telepathic abilities the aliens control in his brain. Preliminary results show that the same DNA mutations in lab animals have profound affects on brain function in the temporal lobe and cause the serotonin and dopamine levels to skyrocket. So even if we had Mulder's vasectomy reversed, we couldn't get pregnant together."

"Mulder had a vasectomy?"

She nodded, biting her lip. "Yeah, right after he was brought back and found out his DNA had been mutated. But I don't know how long I'll remain fertile, John, so time is of the essence here."

"What is it you want me to do, Dana? I've never performed an IUI before, but I could study up on it and be ready to try when your next luteal phase comes around."

She lowered her eyes. "John, we want you to be the sperm donor."

John was speechless. He simply couldn't wrap his brain around the words she'd just spoken.

"I know it's a lot to ask. But we want another child, and I don't know if I'll continue to ovulate or not. We want to try during my next cycle. My periods might be irregular because I'm nursing, so I bought an ovulation testing kit. We both feel really strongly that you are the only person we could ask to do this. There's no one else we trust enough or care enough about to ask." She looked back up at him, her expression earnest. Her eyes showed her yearning. "I can tell I've made you very uncomfortable. It's a difficult position I've put you in. It's okay that you don't want to do it. I understand."

He took her hand. "Dana, I'm not saying no. Actually, I thought about a lot of things last night, and came to a lot of conclusions. I realized how much a part of my life Kyle has become, and I think our relationship has advanced to the point that he has some say so in what I do with my sperm. When he gets back from L.a. I'll talk to him about it."

She nodded. "Julie thinks we could do the IUI there in her lab in we can get our hands on some neonatal Foley catheters, they should be small enough."

"I think a preemie NG tube would be better. I'll try to scare some up from the hospital, if I can come up with a reason to be in the Nicu supply room.

We don't keep them in the ER." He took a bite of his bagel and sipped his coffee.

She couldn't hide her relief. "Thank you John. You don't know how much this means to both of us. We love Moira so much. I wish with all my heart that Mulder and I could have another child that was biologically ours, but it would be dangerous for all of us. It just can't be. Moira is our miracle baby."

"How does Mulder feel about this?"

"He was adamant that you were the only one. And he doesn't care that he won't be the biological father, he's just excited about the idea of actually getting to be here for my pregnancy."

They sat together quietly, eating and absorbing the gravity of their conversation. After a while Mulder came in, bouncing noisily into the room.

"Cool, breakfast. Did you bring orange juice too Carter?" Mulder asked, snagging a bagel and biting off half of it in a single bite.

"In the fridge, Mulder. We've just been discussing impregnating your wife."

He deadpanned.

He thought for a second Mulder was going to drop the carton of juice. His mouth hung open for a second before he snapped it shut. "Yes, and... are you gonna do it?"

"Well, I feel like I've reached a point in my life where Kyle has some say so in this too, but if he's okay with it then I am. I'll discuss it with Julie. If we can get a hold of some IM progesterone we can increase the chances of success pretty substantially."

Mulder gave him a leering smile. "You make it all sound so clinical, Carter.

I thought we'd just have a bottle of tequila and a mnage a trios."

John threw a bagel and hit Mulder in the shoulder. "You are such an ass. I don't know how Dana puts up with you."

"I have a ten inch penis and know the Kama Sutra front to back," he said as he sidestepped another bagel, this one thrown by his wife. With a grin he left the room, taking the carton of orange juice with him.

"Don't drink out of the carton Mulder!" Dana called after him, knowing he would do it anyway.

John discovered in the following days just how strong his feelings for Kyle had become. He missed him more than he thought was possible. He even tried his hand at a couple of what he hoped were passionate sounding love letters just to occupy his time. Several times he sat out on the balcony and talked to Walter. He had no grave, no permanent place of rest, so John decided to talk to the stars. He found the one sided conversations strangely comforting.

He was at the lab with Julie cleaning out the rat cages when a tall slender man with piercing blue eyes who looked to be in his late forties walked into the room. Julie broke into a huge grin and ran to be swept into his embrace.

"Mike!" she exclaimed, hugging him tightly. John thought they looked cute together; her blond head barely came to Mike Donovan's shoulders.

Finally she pulled away and turned towards John. "Mike Donovan, this is Dr. John Carter."

John shook his hand. "I've heard a lot about you Mike, it's nice to finally meet you."

Mike smiled. "And you're all I've heard about from Los Angeles to here. Kyle definitely has a one track mind these days."

"Where is he?" John asked as he washed the rat shit off his hands.

"Outside unloading his new toy. He bought a motorcycle to replace the one he wrecked in Denver about 8 months ago."

"I think I'll go check it out. It was nice to finally meet you, Mike. I'm sure you and Julie have a lot of catching up to do."

Julie gave him a wide grin as he headed out the door.

John found Kyle outside coaxing a huge Harley Davidson fatboy off the tow rig it was attached to. Kyle grinned like a little boy when he saw John.

"Wanna go for a ride, Dr. Carter?"

"Hell no. Do you know how many head traumas I've treated from these damned things? There's a reason Bruce Springsteen calls them suicide machines.

Remember Gary Busey, the head case formerly known as a talented actor?"

Kyle laughed. "Fine, fine, you live your comfortable secure life while I feel the wind on my face and the open road under my feet."

"If I want that I'll go for a walk." John replied, tugging playfully at Kyle's jacket. "Are you so in love with your new toy that you aren't even going to tell me you missed me?"

Kyle's playful smiled softened. "I missed you like crazy. I can't wait to show you exactly how much I missed you. All I've been able to think about is how much I miss sleeping with you next to me."

"Well why don't you come spend the night at my place and we'll rectify that?

We'll have a nice dinner, rent a movie, have a good old fashioned date."

"Are you sure John?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I realized how much I miss sleeping next to you too."

Kyle put his hand on John's cheek, emotion darkening his brown eyes. "I know how hard this is for you. It means a lot to me that you're willing to let me this far into your life."

"You're already that important in my life, it just took me a while to realize it." John kissed him quickly. "I have to go. I'm keeping Moira while Mulder and Dana go investigate a case. I'll give you a call in a couple of hours and we can make plans for tonight."

"Okay, see you later. I'm gonna go take my suicide machine out for a spin."

"Wear a helmet," John said as he climbed in his car.

Two hours later Mulder and Scully were investigating the crime scene of what appeared to be a cult-related ritual murder. Mulder didn't have a clue what Doggett thought this had to do with the Xfiles or why the hell he kept sending them on these shitty assignments. He secretly believed Doggett was trying to bore them into leaving the bureau. While Scully took pictures of the body Mulder thought of all the things he could do to screw up Doggett's pride and joy-his Ford pickup. Maybe some sugar in the gas tank...

His musings were cut short by the sound of his cell phone. "Mulder here," he answered.

"Mulder, I see you couldn't talk the wife into staying home and playing mommy. Had to get Skinner's boyfriend to do the nanny thing, huh?" the voice on the other end belonged to Alex Krycek.

"Are you watching my fucking house, you smarmy bastard? John has a gun and would not hesitate to use it on your sorry ass," he snarled, but fear was creeping up his spine.

"Relax, Mulder. I come in peace. Thought you might like to know those DOD documents you got were fake. The boys in the defense department do whatever the hell our visitors tell them to. Skinner's alive, buddy boy."

"Fuck off, Krycek. You're not only a dickhead you're a liar to boot."

"Think so? Check out the John Doe that was admitted to Kaiser Permanente in Bellefleur Oregon this morning. Or at least what's left of him. Don't worry, I don't want to change your kid's shitty diapers. That's what you've got the pansy for." He snorted in laughter at his own joke before the line went dead.

Scully was still engrossed in her work. Mulder quietly went to the car and sat down in the drivers seat. A phone call to Kaiser confirmed they had a John Doe in his late forties to early fifties that fit Walter's description.

He was comatose after being hit by a car while wandering down a private one lane dirt road on a farm not far from where Mulder had been abducted.

Mulder climbed out of the car and went to where Scully was hunched over the body. "Scully, we've gotta get out of here. Skinner's alive."

Scully turned to face her husband, her eyes growing huge. "But how?" the question trailed off.

"I don't know. Our buddy Krycek gave me a tip about a John Doe in damned Bellefleur and it checked out. We have to do this without telling John until we see him for ourselves. How are we going to pull this off?"

Scully quickly finished her work and left the body in the care of the coroner. They drove to a caf to discuss how they would get out of town without raising the suspicions of John and the FBI. Scully placed a call to her mother and arranged for her to lie to John and tell them they had to go out of town right away to investigate a lead on their current case and that Margaret was taking the baby home with her. She told her mother the truth, but extracted her promise not to tell John or anyone else. Kersh and Doggett they would deal with when they got home.

By the time they arrived home Margaret had sent John away and was packing up the baby's things. Scully packed a cooler with frozen breastmilk and nursed the baby before giving her hesitantly to her mother. Even the hope that Walter Skinner was alive didn't diminish her loathing of leaving her tiny daughter overnight. When Margaret left with Moira Scully packed their bags while Mulder made flight arrangements.

By early evening they were on a plane to Bellefleur.

"What they hell is it the aliens have about Oregon?" Mulder asked his wife rhetorically. "All Oregon has going for it is nice weather and trees."

"I don't know," she replied. "But if I never see the damned Portland airport again it would be too soon. And I don't care what happens, you aren't going anywhere near the woods, got it?"

He smirked, trying to hide his nervousness. "Trust me Scully, I have no desire to re enact my last experience in Oregon. It's true that curiosity kills the cat, or at least permanently fucks with his DNA and his brain."

They rented a car at the airport and began the long drive to Bellefleur. The closer they came to the site where Mulder had nearly been lost forever the more their tension grew. Mulder cracked sunflower seeds and threw them in the ashtray while Scully drove. Mulder had forgotten his glasses again and long periods in a pitch black cell on the alien ship had left him with night vision problems.

"So do you think it's really him?" She finally asked, breaking the silence in the car.

Mulder shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know what game Krycek is playing this week or who's side he's on. I know Ham Tyler knows him and the gunmen might have been able to get some information, but if we wanted to keep this from John and Kyle I didn't think it was a good idea to call them. Tyler's loyalty is to Kyle, and I'm pretty sure he would have told him everything and Kyle would have been on the next plane after us."

"What do you think is going to happen to Kyle and John?"

"Scully, you know as well as I do that John is going to be at Walter's side the minute he gets the news, if this John Doe is even Walter. There's too many unanswered questions here to begin speculating."

She gave a short laugh. "What? Please, Mulder. You've usually got a theory before you even read the case file. Don't give me any crap about premature speculation."

He sobered. "This is different. This affects the life of just about everybody in the world I care about. I know I haven't talked about it much, but accepting that Skinner was dead wasn't easy for me either. I cared about and respected him, and he was so good to you while I was gone. He didn't give up on me, and I felt guilty for giving up on him. I want this to be true too much to have any hope until I see him with my own eyes."

Scully eyed him carefully for a moment as he stared out the window into the darkness. His abduction and the experiences he only remembered in nightmares had indeed changed him. He could run off at the mouth for hours about intellectual matters that interested him, but when it came to his emotions he was the epitome of the expression "still waters run deep." He didn't talk about his feelings much, but his ability to have feel had widened like a river rushing out to sea. Respect and admiration had turned to love and friendship. Love and passion had turned into almost a sacrament for him.

Scully was eternally grateful she and Moira were on the receiving end of the man Mulder had become. The love she'd felt for him before his abduction had only been the tip of the iceberg when they had finally been able to let that love grow into the family they were now. Sometimes she looked at him and Moira and was in awe that they were hers.

After a couple of hours her breasts felt heavy with milk and she woke her now dozing husband. "Mulder, we need to stop so I can pump. Are you hungry?"

Mulder yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Not really, but I could go for a piece of pie and a cup of coffee."

They found an all night diner off the interstate and Scully sat in the back seat of the car with the breastpump, regretting as she watched the bottles fill that she would have to dump the milk out for lack of a way to store it.

When she was done they went inside and ordered coffee and a bowl of soup for her and two pieces of chocolate crme pie for Mulder. After she was done eating she asked him.

"What happens if Walter's injuries are serious? What if he never comes out of the coma?"

"I don't even want to think about that possibility. I know he has a living will, but it will be up to John as his power of attorney to execute it. And since he's legally dead anyway, it might not hold up. John will spend the rest of his life taking care of him and hating himself for the last couple of months."

She sighed. "John is his own worst enemy. He's one of the most guilt ridden people I've ever met."

"Yeah, but he's ours. We're stuck with him, basket case or not." Mulder felt obligated to take care of John the way Skinner had taken care of Scully in his absence, and frankly John needed it more than Scully ever had. He wasn't a weak man, but he was easily overcome by his emotions and was such an overachiever he never forgave himself for a perceived failure. Trying to convince John Carter something wasn't his fault once he'd decided it was could be a fruitless endeavor; about as fruitless as unthawing an iceberg with a hair dryer.

They arrived at Kaiser Permanente Hospital sometime after midnight. After flashing their badges and Scully's AMA membership card numerous times to various doctors and local police they were finally admitted to the ICU.

Mulder felt that the air had been punched from his lungs. The man in the bed was emaciated and seemed to have aged ten years, but was unmistakably Walter Skinner. He felt Scully squeeze his hand as they watched the rhythm of the respirator causing the jerky rise and fall of his chest. Scully fell into a chair next to the bed, engrossed in his medical chart.

"Oh, Mulder," she sighed, wiping away a single stray tear.

"What?" he asked tightly, trying hard to control his own emotions. Walter was covered in scars and bruises, one leg in a cast from hip to toe. He wondered if perhaps they shouldn't have brought John after all in case this was the last time he got to see Walter alive.

"His CT scan showed the same brainwave activity as yours when you were under the alien's control. Even in the coma. They had to remove his spleen and repair a rupture to his liver. He's severely dehydrated and on dialysis for kidney failure due to extended periods of ketosis. At least the MRI only showed some fluid in the cranium, no blood, so the steroids they are giving him should relieve the swelling and not cause any permanent brain damage.

His leg is broken in three places but thank God there's no damage to the spine."

"Ketosis, that's protein in the urine that blocks the kidneys, right? So he was starving basically. His body was breaking down his muscles for fuel."

She nodded silently, taking Walter's hand. "Walter, it's Dana. I know you can hear me. I'm going to talk to the doctors and get them to put you on Dilantin to stop the noise in your head. Mulder and I are here and we're going to take care of you."

She stood and went to her husband, whispering in his ear. "He might be able to read everything you are thinking, so try to think calm relaxing thoughts.

Keep talking to him, he can definitely hear everything you say. I'm going to find the doctor."

She found the attending physician and talked him into prescribing Depakote and Dilantin to slow the activity in the temporal lobe in Walter's brain, explaining to him what had happened to Mulder and leaving out the part that the condition was induced by alien experimentation. One never knew these days if an individual would despise the aliens or view them as the harbingers of all that was good and right on the earth.

By dawn things were improving. A second CAT scan showed that Walter's brain was functioning within near-normal patterns and his blood pressure and pulse oxygen were good. The respiratory was turned down and Walter was breathing on his own periodically between the machine pushing air into his lungs. A preliminary tested showed that his pulse oxygen went too low when he breathed on his own to remove the respiratory completely.

Mulder and Scully knew they were operating on borrowed time. Since they had positively identified Skinner it wouldn't be long before Doggett would show up, and if Walter was still in a coma it would be far too easy for him to disappear again. They grudgingly decided it was safer for Walter if everyone knew he was alive. It would be a bit harder for him to be spirited off by the FBI or the aliens if they had the cavalry behind them.

Mulder went into the waiting room and punched in the number to John's townhouse. A sleepy sounding Kyle Bates answered the phone.

"Kyle, it's Mulder. I need to talk to John."

"Hey Mulder. He's in the shower. He has to be at work in forty-five minutes."

"Can you get him out? It's urgent."

"Okay, hang on."

A minute or two later John picked up the phone. "Mulder, what's up? Is something wrong?"

"John, I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm just gonna lay it out.

Walter's alive. He showed up yesterday as a John Doe in a hospital in Bellefleur Oregon. He's stable, but he was hit by a car and he's in a coma."

The only sound on the other end of the line was heavy rapid breathing.

Mulder wondered if John was having a panic attack. After a long moment he asked. "John, are you there, are you okay?"

"Yeah, what hospital is he in? I'll fly out of here as soon as I can get a flight. I'll leave for the airport now."

"He's at Kaiser Permanente in Bellefleur. John, I know this is hard but we're concerned that too many people might want him to disappear again, so you need to tell as many people as possible that he's alive. The more people that know the better."

"Okay, fine, let me go so I can get out of here. I'll call you as soon as I land. Mulder, if he wakes up make sure you tell him I'm on my way."

"I will John, be careful." He hung up to make his next call to his mother in law.

John hung up the phone but didn't move. He felt Kyle's eyes boring into him, but couldn't bring himself to turn around and face the man he'd spent the night with. The man that up until ten minutes ago he'd been trying to muster the nerve to tell him he loved him.

"John, what's wrong?" Kyle finally asked softly.

John still couldn't turn around. "Walter's alive. Mulder found him in Oregon. He's in a coma. I have to go, Kyle."

Kyle took him by the arm and gently spun him around. "I'm coming with you," he said decisively, his eyes locked with John's.

"No, that's not a good idea." John pulled away and reached into a dresser drawer for his underwear and socks.

Kyle grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him to face him again, more forcefully this time. "God dammit John, turn around and talk to me! I know you have to go. I'm not going to run into the man's goddamn hospital room and tell him we're together. I know if he's alive you and I are finished.

I'm going as your friend because I fucking love you and if I have to lose you I at least want to see you have your happy ending, okay? So I'm going, whether I go with you or not. We can go together and I can hold your hand on the plane and drive you to the hospital or we can say goodbye on bad terms, which I don't want." His voice softened, and he stroked John's arm. "John, I love you. I know you don't feel the same way about me as you do him. I'm know I'm gonna lose here. Please, let's end this the right way so we can still be friends. Our lives are too entwined now to just walk away from each other, so let me show you that I can still be your friend if I can't be your lover. I won't ever tell Walter what's happened between us. If you want to, that's fine, and if not, he'll never hear it from me. I swear it to you."

It hurt John to see the pain in Kyle's eyes. He did love Kyle, but there was no question in his mind or heart that he belonged with Walter and always would. He thought of what Mulder had said and realized that the more people who saw Walter alive the better. He owed Kyle the few hours he was asking for. He owed him telling him how much he cared for him and how much the last couple of months had meant to him. Kyle had saved him, and he owed him more than he could ever repay. Finally he nodded in agreement.

"Okay, but you'll have to wear some of my clothes. We're leaving now."

Within an hour John and Kyle were standing in line to purchase their tickets. To their surprise Robin Maxwell, Mike Donovan and Julie Parish came rushing through the revolving door, bags in hand.

"What are you guys doing?" John asked.

"We're coming with you." Julie explained. "Mulder said that the more physical witnesses that Mr. Skinner is alive the better, so here we are. Ham couldn't come. He's busy making sure Assistant Director Doggett has unexpected car trouble if he tries to leave for the airport. Mulder's friends, those guys that call themselves the Gunmen, are on the next flight.

They're trying to ummm, fix Agent Doggett's credit card so he has a hard time buying a ticket," she said with a smile.

"Good God what a circus," John said, handing his credit card and driver's license to the ticket clerk. He paid for all five tickets on his card to keep the paper trail to a minimum. The fake Ids the Gunmen had created for the others got them boarding passes with no complications, and finally they were at the gate with twenty minutes til boarding time.

John was so nervous he couldn't sit still. He would have started walking right now if he thought it would get him to Oregon any faster. He had to see for himself that Walter was safe. Or at least alive, safe being such a relative term at this point. John decided the first thing he would do when he got home was learn how to use a gun. Nothing was ever going to happen to Walter again as long as John was alive to stop it. He looked over and where Kyle sat with Robin Maxwell, their brunette heads bent together in quiet conversation. He felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't meant to hurt Kyle. He wished there were enough words in the world to make this right, but John couldn't escape the fact that he'd caused Kyle pain. Kyle had loved him when he needed it and John was turning his back on him. What an asshole he was.

He never should have walked out of that bar with Kyle, then he wouldn't be standing there staring at a man who's heart he'd just broken.

When they boarded Julie Parish and Mike Donovan sat next to John, Robin protectively steering Kyle into the row of seats behind them. John supposed she must hate him for this. John ordered a scotch and Julie intercepted it, handing it back to the flight attendant. "Mulder told me not to let you drink," she explained, looking apologetic. "I'm just following orders."

John groaned. "Just for the record, I wasn't a drunk, I was addicted to opiate based pharmaceuticals. And I've been clean for almost a year."

"I don't care, Mulder's meaner than you are and he has a gun. Besides, you don't really want to see Walter drunk do you?"

"John, it's going to be okay." Mike interjected. "It's a short flight. Just hang tight."

Tight was the right word to describe John's nerves. One could have plucked them like the strings of a violin by the time the plane landed. They rented two cars at the airport and headed towards Bellefleur, John, Julie and Kyle in one car at Kyle's insistence and Robin and Mike following in the second car.

Kyle drove, leaving John to stare at the long two lane highway separating him from Walter. Just a few more hours he told himself.

Around 11 a.m. Walter Skinner's eyes flew open and he sat up, yanking the tube out of his throat with one swift motion, pulling it roughly across his gag reflex and causing himself to vomit in the process. The green bile spread across the white sheets as a fit of coughing skyrocketed his blood pressure.

Dana Scully bolted upright from her sleep in the chair next to the bed as the alarm on the ventilator went off. She deftly rose and hit the call button while reaching for the emesis basin as Walter continued to empty the contents of his stomach. The nurse hurried in and she and Scully stripped the sodden sheets from the bed.

"Water, please." Walter croaked with what was left of his voice.

Scully poured him a cup while the nurse took his pulse. His hands shook so badly that she had to hold the cup to his lips. He took several small sips before Scully took the cup away. "Not too much at one time or you'll vomit again."

"Do you know your name?" she asked him, beginning a cursory neurological exam.

"Walter Skinner. Where am I?" He leaned back against the pillows, he strength gone.

"You're in a hospital in Oregon. It's April 11th 2001, you've been missing since November 18th of 2000."

"Bounty Hunters. They looked like John and Mulder. Hit me over the head with something. I don't remember anything after that. What's wrong with my leg? where is John? Did you find Agent Mulder? The baby, is it alright?"

Scully's relief felt like a weight being lifted from her chest. He was okay.

"John is on the way, Mulder has been home since December of last year, I had a perfectly healthy baby girl who we name Moira Margaret Mulder, and your leg is broken in several places. You were hit by a car on a farm not far from where Mulder was taken."

"Scully, I finally got the Gunmen on the phone..," Mulder said as he walked into the small room. He trailed off when he saw Walter awake.

"Mulder. Thank God you're alive." The man tried to smile but it was more effort than he could muster.

"I could say the same thing about you, Sir. Though legally you're dead. The Bureau just closed your case last month. I'm glad to hear that the rumors of your death have been greatly exaggerated." Mulder smiled and hugged the older man, feeling how bony and weakened the body in his arms was.

The nurse returned with the doctor and clean bedding. "You folks are going to have to wait outside while I examine Mr. Skinner." Dr. Andrews said.

Scully leaned down and kissed his cheek. "We'll be right outside."

Skinner held onto her hand. "You said John is coming?"

"Yes, he'll be here in a few hours."

Skinner let go of her hand and she followed Mulder to the waiting room.

"The whole damn crew decided to come, lock stock and poor Kyle too. The Gunmen go the flight after John's and will be here around five this evening.

Ham Tyler escorted your mother back to her house with the baby. He's staying there with her at his insistence. Brought in some friend of his named Chris Faber to watch the lab, and apparently this guy knows Krycek and knows too keep an eye out for him." Mulder stopped to sip his sixth cup of coffee of the morning. So everything is under control except for whether or not Skinner is going to take one look at John and know everything that's happened in the last few months."

"Well, not everything is under control. What about Doggett and Kersh? And where is Krycek? We have to get Walter somewhere safe as soon as possible.

He needs around the clock protection. I think the smartest thing to do is send him to the warehouse. We have medical facilities there and Tyler to blow away anything or anyone that looks suspicious."

"Doggett hasn't made it out of DC yet thanks to Tyler and the Gunmen. Tyler torched his trucked and the Gunmen somehow managed doctor his credit card account so it looked like all his cards were maxed. I'm sure he'll make it here sometime today. I agree that Skinner needs protection, but I don't think it would working having him live in the same place as Kyle. There's only so much we can ask the guy to take."

"True, but I think he'd take it if he knew Walter's life was at stake."

Losing Everything Part 6

When they arrived at the hospital John Carter was so anxious he couldn't even wait for the elevator. He took the stairs two at a time to the Intensive Care Unit on the third floor, leaving his four companions downstairs. A quick look at the board on the wall of the nurse's station told him Walter's room number. He tried to slow down and compose himself for a moment, taking a couple of deep breaths before entering the room.

Walter was sleeping. He was so thin and bruised and battered that John's heart leapt into his throat. But he was alive; that was all that mattered. His 02 sats were 97 percent on room air and his pulse was normal. He had a drainage tube in his abdomen from where his spleen had been removed, but the drainage wasn't excessive. He would heal and be well again.

John approached the bed and bent to press a gentle kiss to Walter's forehead. It felt unreal to be touching him again when John had lost hope that he would ever be seen alive again. But he was here, warm and alive under John's hands, and John would make sure he stayed that way.

Walter's eyes fluttered open, and a faint smile came to his parched lips when he saw John. "Oh John Carter," he sighed, finally at peace.

Never just John. Always John Carter. Ever since their first night together, Walter had claimed it suited him and had continued to call him that ever since. It was music to John's ears. "I'm here, Walter, and I'm not going anywhere. Just relax and rest. Everything's going to be fine." John assured him, kissing the knuckles of one large bruised hand.

"Yes," Walter agreed, sleep overtaking him again. "Now that you're here, everything is fine. Love you."

"I love you too." John kissed him again, but he was already asleep.

Dana came quietly into the room. The look on John's face made all the danger they were in worth it.

"John, we need to talk. Want to come to the waiting room?"

John smoothed out Walter's blankets and brushed his hand against the man's cheek before following Dana out of the room.

There were seven of them in the small room. With the exception of baby Moira, the entirety of John's life was in that room.

"John, Doggett has left DC and is on his way here. He knows that Mulder and I left him out of the loop. I'm pretty sure that Mulder and I can kiss out jobs goodbye. Not that I really care at this point. But you and Walter can't go back to the townhouse. Walter needs around the clock security. I think the best thing is for the two of you to go to the warehouse. Mulder and I are thinking it might be a good idea for us to lay low there ourselves for a while. I wouldn't put it past Doggett to try and have us arrested for interfering with an investigation or obstruction of justice."

John looked over at Kyle and found the man's expression unreadable. He couldn't possibly ask Kyle to deal with John and Walter living right under his nose.

"So what's your plan? Walter's in no condition to be moved.

They aren't going to let him out of the ICU for a couple of days, even if they have stopped the dialysis. I know I wouldn't."

"Well, the Gunmen had a pretty good idea. You have Walter's power of attorney. You could request that he be moved to the hospital in Portland by ambulance and the Gunmen will hijack the ambulance at a predetermined location. They won't hurt the Emts, just tie them up and lock them in the bathroom. There's a gas station about 50 miles down the road that has those cement bunker-looking bathrooms that are separate from the main building. A bit further down the road we'll switch to a cargo van that Ham has arranged to have waiting for us. We can pull this off. We have to, or something even worse is going to happen to Walter."

Kyle approached him. "John, can I talk to you privately for a minute?"

"Sure, why don't you come downstairs with me so I can smoke a cigarette?"

Kyle wrinkled his nose but nodded his head. They rode silently down the elevator and Kyle didn't speak until John had lit a cigarette and taken a deep drag from it.

"John, I know what you're thinking and I want you to know I'm okay with this. As okay as I can be. I'm not going to lie and say it won't be hard, but a man's life is at stake and I couldn't live with myself if I put my personal feelings above that."

John sighed, gesturing for Kyle to sit down on the bench next to him. He slipped his free hand into Kyle's. "Kyle, I care so much about you. I never meant to hurt you. I never would have gotten involved with you if I had thought there was any chance Walter was still alive. Not because I regret the time we've spent together, but because I wouldn't have risked hurting you for the world. I was falling in love with you, Kyle. But Walter...he's my spouse. He's the person I was meant to spend my life with. But I can't thank you enough for being there when I needed someone. You saved me from myself."

Kyle looked him, his face sad but resigned. "I know all this John, I really do. Your face, your eyes...they're an open book. You think you're good at hiding your emotions, but you're really not. I knew you weren't over him, but I took that risk willingly. I don't regret our time together either. And once we've both had some time to deal with our feelings I know we'll still be friends. I liked you charm and your sense of humor as much as your body and your heart, and I hope you're still willing to share those with me as a friend. I'm a big boy, I've had my heart broken before. And at least you're alive and happy. It hurts, but it's nothing compared to losing Elizabeth. Nothing could ever hurt like that, and if I lived through that I'll live through this."

John squeezed his hand. "I don't deserve to have people as wonderful as you in my life. I'm grateful to have met you, Kyle Bates. You're an outstanding human being."

Kyle chuckled humorlessly. "No I'm not, I just know a losing battle when I see one. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, and I know that your happiness is with Walter." He pulled his hand from John's, a final act of letting go. "So, it's decided. You and Walter will come stay with us at least until he's well.

Depending on what happens with AD Doggett we might have Mulder, Dana and Moira with us too. Looks like we're going for a full house." He gave a small smile, "C'mon Medicine Man, I know you want to get back up to Walter."

All eyes were on them when they returned to the waiting room. John turned to Mulder. "Kyle and I talked. We agree that your plan is our best option. So go for it. Just let me know what I need to do."

"Well, Doggett will be on the ground in Oregon by 7p.m. So we need to get started now on the hospital transfer. Tyler can have the van arranged within an hour or so, so that part's okay. John, you know that if Scully and I are arrested that you are to have Tyler get Maggie and Moira out of the country, right? Moira's fake passport is taped in an envelope to the bottom of the dresser in our bedroom."

If John had not fully comprehended the gravity of the situation, he did now. He nodded somberly. "You know I'll look out for your family like they were my own, Mulder."

Mulder put his hand on John's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I'm counting on it."

A nurse came into the room, eying with curiosity the exhausted disheveled bunch. "Whichever one of you is Dr. Carter, Mr. Skinner is awake and asking for you. And there's also a Director Kersh from the FBI on the phone for an Agent Mulder. You can pick up the courtesy phone right there and press the button marked line three."

John followed the nurse back to Walter's room and Mulder picked up the phone. "Mulder here."

"Agent Mulder," Kersh's tone was low and lethal. "you have never known trouble like you are in right now. I've got enough charges here to put you and Agent Scully in a federal prison for a very long time. Should I even bother to tell you how many bureau protocols you've breached, broken, and outright disregarded?"

Mulder tried to keep his tone light, but his voice was tight. "No, Sir. Don't bother. I wasn't acting on behalf of the bureau, I was acting as a private citizen who found out that his former boss and friend was alive. What I do on my own time is my own business."

"Don't bullshit me Mulder. Agent Doggett is on his way there now, and the Portland field office is going to bring you and Agent Scully into custody when they arrive. Make it a bit easier on yourself and surrender. If you do as you're asked and don't make any more trouble I'll consider dropping the charges against Agent Scully."

"That's really considerate of you, Sir. Tell the boys from the Portland office they can find me in the third floor waiting room. And tell Doggett I said hello. Goodbye, Sir."

He hung up the phone and turned to his wife. "We're in deep shit. Kersh is out for blood. I'll call Tyler and have his friend get your mom and the baby to the warehouse while you go get that patient transfer started."

Skinner smiled weakly when John entered the room. John sat in the chair Scully had occupied the night before, taking Walter's hand, careful not to disrupt the IV line. He could see from the marks on the back of Walter's hand it had taken them several attempts to get an IV in his collapsed veins.

"Walter, you're in danger here. Mulder and Scully are making arrangements to have you moved to a safe place. It's not gonna be a pleasant trip, but I'll be there the whole way. I got a full time job at Georgetown a few weeks ago, so I've been living in the townhouse full time."

Walter licked his cracked lips, trying to sit upright in the bed. His arms were too weak to leverage himself up, so John stood to help him get settled more comfortably. With John hovering over him, Walter caught his gaze and asked him. "John Carter, the young man in the waiting room, are you in love with him?"

John felt like he'd been punched in the gut. So the telepathic ability hadn't been completely restrained by the meds. He searched Walter's face for some sign of anger, but saw only the strains of physical pain. "I care about him.

He was there for me when I thought I had lost you and I'm very grateful to him for that. But it's over. It never would have happened if I had believed for a minute you were still alive. I'm sorry I didn't have more faith in you.

Please don't hate me."

"Oh, John, you idiot. I don't hate you. Maybe I hate the idea that someone else touched you...loved you. But I don't blame you. There were times when I was convinced I was dead. But I couldn't hate you no matter what you did. I love you. I know I haven't always been able to say that when you needed to hear it, but it's true." Walter took his hand and ran his finger over the wedding band John had yet to remove. "I'd like to call you my husband, John Carter. I would be proud to call you that."

John's eyes misted up with relief and happiness. "Nothing would make me happier. But first we have to talk about what's going to happen over the next few days."

John outlined the plan that had been concocted to get him out of Oregon before John Doggett arrived. Walter's only reaction was "I can't believe they gave that little pissant my job."

John laughed. "Walter Skinner, you aren't going back to the goddamn FBI if I have to tie you up and keep you in a closet to stop you."

Dr. Andrews came into the room. "Mr. Skinner, it's my understanding that you wish to be transferred to the University of Portland Medical Center. I have to let you know that we can't keep you against your will, but I'm going to note in your chart that you are leaving against medical advice. Your condition has barely been stabilized, and I'd recommend keeping you in the ICU for a while longer."

Walter shook his head, trying to make up a plausible story despite the morphine that kept him from thinking clearly.

"No, my partner, Dr. Carter, has admitting privileges at Upmc and I would be more comfortable having my spouse as my personal physician."

Dr. Andrews blushed a deep shade of scarlet. "Oh, I understand. That's fine. You'll need to sign these forms.

The discharge coordinator is arranging for an ambulance to transport you."

Walter signed the necessary documents and leaned back against the pillows, mouthing the word "homophobe" to John as Dr. Andrews left the room.

John shrugged. "Yeah, well, for once it's working to our advantage. Now he's in a hurry to get rid of us." He kissed Walter lightly on the forehead. "Get some rest. I need to go confer with the Motley Crew in the waiting room and find out what happens next."

"Who are all those people anyway?"

John grinned. "They're our family, for lack of a better word. Don't worry, you'll like them."

4 p.m.

The ambulance technicians were more than a little intimidated to discover there were three MDs arguing over who would ride with the patient to Portland. It was finally decided that Dana would ride with John and Walter. Mulder would follow the ambulance in the car with Mike, Julie, and Robin. The second rental car was left in the parking lot of the hospital. The Gunmen were waiting at the BP station 53 miles from the hospital with the cargo van Tyler had arranged for them to pick up from a junkyard in Eugene that was actually a front for stripping down stolen cars.

The ride was uneventful. Walter's vitals remained stable and his slept through most of the ride. While the technicians were busy in the front Scully began quietly plundering their medical supplies and stowing anything of use in her black leather duffel bag. She threw her clothing in the biohazard material waste bin to make room for the bags of IV fluids and wound dressings she hoped they wouldn't need. She grabbed NG tubes in case Walter couldn't take anything by mouth. She didn't know how long they would have to vacate the ambulance when they reached the gas station and she wanted to be prepared for anything that might come up. The last thing she wedged into her bag was an intubation kit and an ambu bag. John looked at her and she shrugged. "Just in case," she said, zipping the bag closed.

When the gas station came into sight she asked the driver "Can we please stop here for a minute? I really have to use the bathroom. Mr. Skinner is asleep and I won't be long."

He nodded. "Sure thing. I could stand a cup of coffee myself."

He turned into the parking lot and Scully asked "Would you please park of there by the bathrooms? Its freezing out there and I don't have a jacket."

He did as she asked and parked directly in front of the bathrooms, which were about 50 feet from the main building.

Scully climbed out of the back of the ambulance and came to the front as John began to unfasten the gurney from the rigging that held it attached to the bed of the ambulance.

The driver got out just as Scully reached the front. She saw Frohike come around the side of the small concrete building and felt a moment of fear as she wondered if the small man could take down the ambulance driver. As Frohike approached she reached into her purse and said, "would you mind getting me a cup of coffee too? Let me just get my wallet." Frohike was right behind him now. With a pang of regret and a snap of her wrist Scully sprayed the unsuspecting man in the face with a small can of pepper spray from her bag.

He stumbled and Frohike kneed him in the testicles, stuffing a bandana in his mouth as the second attendant jumped out of the van and yelled "What the fuck?"

Byers came out of nowhere and clamped a chloroform sodden rag over the man's face. He slumped almost instantly and Byers drug him into the bathroom.

"We'll tie them up and get rid of the bathroom keys."

Frohike said as he drug the driver towards the bathroom door. "The keys are in the van, just go. We'll ditch the ambulance and see ya in DC sometime soon."

Scully nodded as the bathroom door closed behind him. The car driven by Kyle pulled up at that moment. Kyle jumped from the front seat and opened the back van doors. "Sorry, you didn't tell me Mulder couldn't drive in the dark. We had to pull over so I could drive. Let's get moving."

The next five minutes were a flurry of frantic activity as They loaded Walter from the gurney onto a mattress in the back of the van. Someone had been considerate enough to throw in a bean bag cushion for John to sit on. They all piled into the van except Kyle.

"I'm going to go ahead of you guys and find some nice wooded area to ditch this car in. I'll act like I'm hitchhiking, so just look for me on the side of the road after twenty or thirty miles. It won't be far enough to keep them from putting the picture together pretty fast, but it might buy us a little time."

Mike Donovan nodded and put the van in reverse, saying over his shoulder. "John, you let me know if Walter gets too uncomfortable. I'll take it as easy as I can."

Mike found Kyle about fifty miles down the road and picked him up. After that the van drove straight through the next 12 hours with only one stop to allow everyone to use the bathroom and rotate drivers.

They finally stopped when they reached I-80, the interstate which made up the next thousand miles of the their cross country trip. Mike parked the van at an RV camp and paid for an overnight stay. He parked the van as far to the back of the camp as possible so the RVs would obscure it from anyone driving down the road. From under the long bench seat in the back Mike pulled a large plastic tub which contained a single 4 person tent, a couple of sleeping bags, a dozen military ration packs and a case of Powerbars.

"This is it guys." He announced. "Everybody grab what you think you can stand to eat, though I personally recommend avoiding the tuna casserole. Julie, Robin, Kyle and I will take the tent. Mulder and Dana stay with Walter and John.

It's 8 a.m. We'll get back on the road at 2 p.m., so enjoy your rest and try to get some sleep, it only gets worse from here."

He was right. The only stops they made were to buy gas and change drivers, and once for Scully to change Walter's IV when his vein collapsed. Walter was still unable to eat, so Scully had been pouring her pumped breastmilk directly into his stomach via an NG tube. If it was good enough for Moira it would have to suffice for him, she thought to herself.

The guys looked a little green around the gills each time she did it, but she had to keep her supply up for Moira and Walter needed nourishment.

They drove straight through for the next 24 hours, stopping next at a motel that catered mostly to truckers and by the hour clients in Colorado. John had insisted that Walter needed to move around before he developed pneumonia and that he needed his surgical site thoroughly cleaned. They had all been relieved to have hot showers and real food.

"I never thought I could like pizza this much," Scully commented as she ate, stretching her aching muscles.

John and Mulder helped Walter pace the small room a few times, each man supporting him under one of his shoulders.

He shuffled like an old man, but his nearly atrophied muscles screamed for the exercise. His abdominal muscles burned painfully, but he was determined to get well. "It shouldn't take seven people to take care of one grown man."

He growled as John climbed into the shower with him, both of them naked, to hold him up while Mulder washed him.

"You should have seen me when I came back," Mulder commented, washing the other man's back with a soapy washcloth while John supported him under the armpits. "I had to use a wheelchair at first I was so week. I don't remember ever being allowed to move, all my memories are of being strapped to a bed."

"I wasn't taken to an alien ship." Walter replied. "I was drugged a lot of the time, but I know damn well I was on a military base. There were only humans around, no aliens that I could tell. We were four to a cell. They would torture us for hours then send us back to our cells. All the time there were these recordings playing of self hypnosis techniques that the "doctors" told us would stop the pain. Only problem is the people who actually gave in and did it started hearing things and killing each other or mutilating themselves, or worst of all suddenly thought the aliens were here to save us from ourselves. They were brainwashing them through this hypnosis. But I had problems with Sensory Integration Disorder as a child and have never been able to be hypnotized. Most people didn't even do it consciously, but they played it 24 hours a day, and I guess it got into their subconscious while they slept." He slumped against John, exhausted from more conversation and exercise in one hour than he'd had since his return.

"Okay, you're clean, get your ass out of the shower before you pass out," Mulder said, turning the water off and helping John wrap a towel around Walter's waist.

Julie applied a clean dressing to his incision and John helped him into a clean pair of sweat pants and tee shirt.

Finally Julie reconnected his IV to the heparin lock in his hand and he grudgingly accepted the now familiar routine of swallowing the NG tube as it was fed into his nose and down his throat to prevent gagging on it and vomiting. He felt ridiculous while John pour a can of Ensure through the tube that went from his nose to his stomach.

"Can't you take the damned thing out and put it back in when I have to eat again?" Walter asked gruffly.

"No," John said, giving his patient a stern look. "Taking it out and putting it back in just irritates your throat even more than leaving it in place. Now are you gonna play nice or do you need another shot of Morphine?"

Walter crossed his arms over his chest, even though it hurt like hell. "I don't want any more goddamn drugs," he said adamantly.

John kissed his forehead. This was the gruff, pain in the ass man he knew and loved. Walter was getting well. "Then shut up and go to sleep. You're a worse patient than Mulder, and that's saying a lot."

Walter awoke near dawn needing to use the bathroom. He found Kyle Bates sitting at the small table by the single window in the room, staring out into the view of nothingness the window offered. He sat down at the table across from him.

"John has already told me everything," Walter said quietly.

"Then I'm sincerely glad you aren't armed, Mr. Skinner," Kyle replied.

"There are no hard feelings here, Mr. Bates. John thought I was dead and he needed someone. You've proven yourself to be a loyal friend despite everything, and if there had to be someone else in John's life I'm glad it was someone like you. Since we are going to be living in close quarters I wanted you to know that."

Kyle nodded. "Thank you. I knew he loved you, and I knew he was on the rebound, but I jumped in head first anyway. I have a tendency to do that. I care for John a great deal, but I'm glad he got what he really wanted in the end. So why don't we consider the matter dropped?"

Walter nodded his agreement. Kyle reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an object wrapped in a handkerchief, pushing it in Walter's direction. Walter unwrapped it to find his glasses.

"I thought you might need them, so I grabbed them off the dresser while John was packing." Kyle explained.

"Thank you, Kyle. For everything. You should get some sleep." He carefully leveraged himself out of the chair and made his way to the bathroom.

They stopped again 36 hours later in Indiana. Tempers were growing short and not a one of them with the exception of Walter had slept more than three hours at a time since leaving Oregon. Another cheap nondescript motel gave them a few hours respite from the confines of the van, and Walter was finally able to partake of his first solid meal of chicken noodle soup and drank the Ensure instead of having to tolerate the NG tube.

Scully allowed herself the luxury of a phone call to Ham Tyler's cell phone for a brief conversation with her mother. Chris Faber, Tyler's friend, had kept a constant surveillance on her home and no one from the bureau had visited the house or appeared to be watching it. However, the FBI had removed documents and computers from the homes of both Mulder and Dana and John and Walter's townhouse.

They had also confiscated two of the 5 firearms Mulder and Dana owned. The other three were on their persons. Margaret and Moira were still staying at the warehouse, and there had been no suspicious activity to indicate that their hideout had been discovered.

After the conversation Scully went into the bathroom and turned the shower on so no one would hear her crying. She ached for Moira, with both her body and soul. After a few minutes her husband found her sitting on the toilet seat, the small bathroom filling with steam from the shower. He gently eased her up into his arms and kissed her tenderly, whispering. "I miss her too, babe. We'll all be back together soon and then we are done. No more FBI, no more Kersh, no more Spender. You and Moira are all that matter to me."

He peeled her clothes off and then removed his own, nudging her into the shower. He washed her hair for her, loving the feel of the wet strands of burnished auburn between his fingers. That was probably the only good thing that had happened from his abduction; he was no longer color blind.

He had no idea why, but he'd learned not to question the good things that happened to him, just to cherish them. She molded herself to his embrace, letting him support her weight as he captured her mouth with his own. He leaned her back against the warmed tiles and made love to her, his eyes locked with hers as they took comfort in one another's arms. They were silent except for Scully's soft gasp when she climaxed, holding tightly to Mulder's shoulders. When they were done and the water began to run cooler Mulder finally relinquished her and smiled.

"We should probably save some hot water for everyone else," he said, nibbling on her ear.

Her only reply was a low throaty noise of pleasure as she stepped out of the shower and turned the water off.

Mike woke them all at 2A.M. to begin the last leg of their journey. Walter was able to sit up for longer periods now, allowing for his exhausted companions to nap on the mattress in the back of the van. Scully and Mulder took the first shift, sleeping until sunrise when Mulder could see well enough to drive again and relieve Kyle.

John was getting antsy. He and Walter had barely had a moment to talk. He felt more like his doctor than his lover. All physical contact they'd had revolved around Walter's physical care. John longed to put his arms around him and hold him, to feel Walter pressed against him and revel in the fact that he was safe and alive. But every time he contemplated more than the occasional squeeze of his hand or kiss on his cheek he saw Kyle's face and stopped himself. As much as he wanted to put his arms around Walter and never let him go, he couldn't rub his happiness in Kyle's face like that.

Another 24 hours in the white van, moving swiftly down the interstate to carry them all back to god-knows-what sort of bedlam awaited them. Mulder and Scully quietly grappled with the fact that they had no choice at this point but to go underground. They had gone from federal agents to wanted criminals. John wondered if he would still have a job at Georgetown when he returned. They all sat in silence with their thoughts. in the predawn hours of the next morning they pulled up to the warehouse. The depressing cinder-block building was the most welcome sight any of them had ever seen. Scully had the van door open before the vehicle had come to a full stop, jumping out to beat on the door of the building.

"Tyler, it's us!" she called, no longer able to hide her frantic need to see her baby.

Tyler swung the door open. A tall, slender blonde woman was standing behind him holding Moira.

"Who the hell are you?" Scully demanded, reaching for the baby.

The woman readily gave Moira to her mother, who immediately began to root for Scully's breast.

"I'm Maggie Blodgett, Chris Faber's girlfriend. Your mom is asleep and the baby woke up, I was just helping out."

Scully slumped into a chair and latched the baby on to nurse. "I'm sorry, it's just been a rough week. It's nice to meet you. Thanks for helping my mom out. I'm sure this hasn't been easy on her."

John walked in, supporting Walter's exhausted weight under one shoulder. Maggie Blodgett moved into action.

" Dr. Carter and Mr. Skinner, we set you up a room. It's the third door down the hall on the right. It's not the Ritz Carlton, but it's comfortable. There's a wheelchair over there for Mr. Skinner; we weren't sure what kind of shape he would be in. Mr. And Mrs. Mulder, we put you in the room next to Robin's. There aren't enough rooms to give the baby her own room, so you guys got the biggest room."

John looked around for a chair to help Walter into. He got him settled as comfortably as possible and helped bring in the rest of the gear from the van. Ham Tyler was already outside with cans of spray paint painting the van black.

John brought in all of the medical equipment and left it by the door. The small group that had stayed behind in DC had been busy. The nearly empty warehouse now had a large picnic table and a couch and chairs set up as a common area, and John saw boxes against the far wall labeled Carter and Mulder.

"What are those?" He gestured at the boxes.

"Ham and Chris broke into your houses and got as much of your clothing and stuff as they could before the feds showed up. Maggie Scully sent over all of Moira's things that she had at her place, so we have a crib and changing table for the baby. Both of your places have police tape around the doors now, so I don't think it's safe to try and go back. Ham even got Mr. Mulder's fish." She smiled.

Maggie Scully heard the commotion and came down the hall in her robe and slippers, relief visible on her face. "Oh, Dana, thank god you're safe." She held her daughter tightly. "We've all been so scared."

"Mom, why don't you help John get Walter to bed? He looks like he's going to fall asleep where he's sitting," Dana asked, wanting nothing more than to be alone with her daughter for a few minutes.

"Sure, Baby, I'm just so glad to see you." She dropped a kiss on her daughter's head. "You don't look much better off than Mr. Skinner. None of you do. Go to bed soon, okay?"

Dana nodded and watched her mother go off to help John get Walter upright again.

John tried to convince Walter to use the wheelchair, but it was useless. "I'm not an invalid, John Carter, I can damn well walk!" He trudged slowly towards the room, holding tightly to Maggie Scully's arm. John followed with a couple of the boxes marked as having come from their townhouse. He hoped they had found the boxes of Walter's clothes in the downstairs closet.

John and Maggie got Walter settled into the bed. The room was sparsely furnished with a kind size bed, a dresser, a desk and two chairs. Someone had hung a wooden dowel from the ceiling to hang clothes from as the room lacked a closet. The room had probably been an office at some point.

It was a bit depressing looking, but John supposed they should just be grateful to have it. The sheets were clean and they were together again. That's all he could ask for at this point.

Walter's color was pallid and his breathing heavy. John took his pulse and listened to his lungs before deciding the man was just exhausted. "Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?" he asked.

"Yeah, you can stop acting like my doctor and come here."

Walter replied, holding his arms out to John.

John kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed beside his lover, curling himself into the warm enclosure of Walter's arms. "Oh God this is good," he said softly.

Walter didn't reply. He kissed John softly on the mouth, setting his nerve endings on fire. John wouldn't have believed he could be aroused as grubby and exhausted as he felt, but he was wrong. His body responded immediately to Walter's touch. But he knew Walter wasn't ready for anything physical, so he forced himself not to deepen the kiss or embrace.

Walter finally relinquished John's mouth. "You people were in such a hurry to put the old cripple to bed I didn't even get to get a good look at Mulder and Scully's baby."

"She's beautiful. You can see her later. I don't think you could tear her out of Dana's hands right now to get a look at her. And you're not an old cripple. You just had your spleen removed 4 days ago and had a major head trauma.

You'll be fine. You just need rest and proper care."

"Well," Walter said with a hitch in his voice "I think the proper care I need is a bit more intimate than having my blood pressure taken." He ran his large hand down John's torso, down to his hip and snaked around to caress his buttock.

John laughed, loving the feel of Walter's shoulder against his cheek. "You pervert. Don't get any ideas in that horny head of yours until your stitches come out."

"A man can dream can't he?"

"Yeah, but that's about all you're going to be doing for the next few weeks."

There was a knock at the door. John rose and opened it to find Maggie Blodgett holding a tray containing a plate of sandwiches and two glasses of milk. "Orders from Dr. Parish, the patient is to eat at least half a sandwich and drink all of his milk."

Walter groaned. "How did I go from living in a happily all male household to living with a resistance cell full of women?"

Maggie smiled. "You got really lucky, Mr. Skinner. G'night, gentleman. Sleep well."

John was homeless, his career was probably over and his lover had nearly been killed. But laying there at that moment he had never been so happy in his life. He fell into a deep peaceful slumber.

Losing Everything Part 7

The peace and relief of being in relative safety didn't last long. Around 2 p.m. people were waking up and starting to move around the warehouse. As Mulder, Scully, Robin and Mike sat at the picnic table having coffee someone knocked on the heavy main door.

Mike went to the door, opened it a crack and had a brief conversation with the unexpected visitor before drawing his gun and announcing. "Drop you weapon and step inside."

Alex Krycek slowly entered the warehouse, his good arm above his head. It was a mere instant before Krycek had two more guns aimed at him, compliments of Mulder and Scully, and then a fourth when Chris Faber entered the room.

"Gee, what a warm welcome," he said with a sarcastic snort.

"And after I helped you get Skinner back and all, is this how you thank me?"

"What the hell do you want Krycek?" Mulder asked, taking the safety off the gun and loading a round into the chamber.

"Mulder, believe it or not, I come in peace. Kersh is dead, and Doggett wants to cut a deal. Can I at least have a cup of that coffee?"

John stepped into the room and froze when he saw the standoff taking place. "John, please get the gun from under my bed and stay with Moira," Mulder said without looking away from Krycek.

Krycek laughed. "You think I came here to hurt your kid?

I'm on a peacekeeping mission. I came to tell you that Spender has taken care of Kersh. It was a nasty car accident, somewhat similar to what happened to Doggett's truck last week, except Kersh was in his vehicle at the time. They're gonna give Doggett his job if he can clean up this unfortunate mess involving you and Scully. He's so damn glad Kersh is dead he's practically shitting himself."

He was allowed to sit down and Robin brought him a cup of coffee. They all sat at the picnic table, the four guns held by their wary owners still trained on him.

"They snowed Doggett completely, Kersh and his boys did.

John didn't have a fucking clue that the US military was actively helping the aliens, or that the aliens are planning on turning us into slaves to strip mine our own planet as soon as they find a way to counteract the vaccine to the black oil. But now there's a rebellion going on with some of the aliens who see us as stupid helpless animals that they should show kindness towards, kinda like the Peta of the Martian race. Even Doggett didn't know those DOD records were fake. But now he knows everything, and he's got enough of a conscience that he just wants to make this incident with Skinner go away. So here's the deal; Mulder, Scully and Skinner stay the hell away from the federal government. No charges will be filed against any of you.

Skinner doesn't talk about what he saw to anyone, ever, and you all go on and lead nice quiet little lives."

"There's got to be a catch; Doggett's not known for his generosity of spirit," Mulder said wryly.

"Well, there is one other thing. This resistance group, which the feds know about by the way, is to pack up and get the hell out of Dodge immediately. Doggett plans to throw in with this alien rebel group, but for now he needs things to smooth over and look like he wiped this group out. So you have to leave and do it quick or Spender's not gonna trust him. Spender's getting old and he's not as sharp as he used to be. Doggett's hoping he can pull the wool over his eyes long enough to get the NIH working on vaccinating the rest of the planet against the oil."

"And why are we supposed to believe any of this?" Scully asked. "You don't have a stellar track record for honesty, Krycek. And what are you getting out of helping us?"

He leaned in and looked her in the eye, his face intent on hers. "I've seen Soylent Green, Agent, and I'm not interested in becoming a starring attraction in the live remake. And if you don't believe me, have the lone rangers or whatever the fuck they call themselves go look you up in the FBI database. You're as clean as whistles. You were never employed by the federal government; none of you have had as much as a speeding ticket.

The slate is wiped clean as long as you are willing to walk away."

The conversation stopped when Ham Tyler entered the room, an AR-15 assault rifle slung casually over his shoulder. He smirked when he saw Krycek.

"Alex, why did I have a feeling you were gonna end up in the middle of this? You don't know when to keep your nose out of shit, Boy."

Krycek smiled in a semblance of amusement. "Don't give me that crap, Tyler. If the money were right you'd be sitting where I am now."

Tyler shook his head. "You never learn, Alex. This isn't about money. This is different than a third world dictator or a few thousand peasants. This is the entire human race.

When it's your whole world against the bad guys, there's not much choice about which side to be on."

"That's why I'm here." Krycek replied.

Mulder was taken aback. That was the most honest, sincere thing he'd ever heard come from Krycek's lying, two-faced mouth. Maybe he did get it this time. He looked at his wife, seeing the look of relief on her face. His first instinct was to put a cap in Krycek and be done with it, but if there was half a chance he was telling the truth the only smart thing to do was take his family and run like hell.

"Okay, Krycek, tell Doggett he's got a deal. But he's got to help me and Scully fake some credentials to explain what we've been doing with the last ten years of our lives or we'll never be able to get jobs. And John Carter, his name doesn't get associated with this at all," Mulder saw Scully's small nod of approval from the corner of his eye.

Krycek nodded. "Done. One more thing, I have to talk to Juliet Parish."

Mike snapped to full attention, lining up the site on his gun with Krycek's heart. "What for?"

"Jesus, what is with you people and all the fucking guns?

Doggett knows she's made a breakthrough in the vaccine. He wants her to help the NIH when the time comes. He'll be in contact when its safe. He's willing to have her head up the research team in exchange for all the research she's done up until now. No one will ever know she went underground.

Her record is wiped clean, and her research assistant from Ucla is back at home with his wife and kids."

"I'll go get her." Scully volunteered. "Mulder, join me?"

He nodded and followed her down the hall. "This is too good to be true," she said as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Scully, you know Doggett better than anyone. Is he honest, or could he be under Spender's thumb?"

She sighed and shook her head. "John Doggett would never willingly be under anyone's thumb. He's an ass, but yes, he's honest. He's not a bad person, just ambitious and a bit of a chauvinist. He was as good of a partner as he could be in a bad situation. It's Krycek I don't trust."

"Well, let me get on the phone to the guys and see if they can verify that our FBI records have been wiped out and that Julie's research assistant is really alive. I don't see where we have many options here. If Krycek knows this place is here than anybody could. We can live to fight another day or end up in prison...or where Walter was."

"Okay, call the Gunmen. I'm going to go wake Julie up." She went down the hall to Mike and Julie's room and knocked softly on the door.

"Julie, you're needed out here," she said. "There's someone here who wants to talk to you."

"Be out in a minute." Julie called through the door.

Scully went further down the hall to her own room and found it empty. John was in his room with Walter, sitting on the bed with Moira in his lap, Walter pointing a gun at the door.

"Walter, Krycek is here. He says Doggett wants to cut a deal. Kersh is dead. I think you might want to come hear this."

Walter winced as he threw back the covers, but he rose and pulled on his robe. He took the safety off the gun and laid it next to John. "If Krycek tries to come through this door just keep shooting until the clip is empty."

They detained Krycek until well after dark verifying his information, while groups and couples paired off in private to discuss their options. Finally around 8 P.M they all met in the common room again. Mulder spoke on behalf of the group.

"Tell Doggett he has a deal. But he has to give us 48 hours to clear this place out. Skinner isn't ready to be moved again."

Krycek nodded. "Done. In 48 hours this place will go up in flames and a few bodies will be tossed in to make it look like all the resistance members are dead. Tyler and Faber can even stick around to help me do it if they want." He smiled, but it faded quickly when he saw the glowering look on Tyler's face. Mulder was impressed that there was someone on the face of the earth Krycek actually seemed to respect.

"Before we let you leave, who else knows this place exists?" Mike asked.

"Me and Doggett are the only ones who know the exact location. Spender knows there's a resistance cell in the DC area, but hasn't located it yet. He thinks I'm working on finding it, so I'm risking my own ass here in delaying another 48 hours. I hope that's enough insurance for you that I'm telling you the truth."

"And what happens if one of his other lackeys finds this place before the time is up?" Mulder chimed in.

"Won't happen. The Syndicate is done with, it's just Spender and a few people that are either loyal to him or afraid of him. But he's got Parkinson's disease as well as lung cancer and he's not going to be able to keep anyone afraid of him much longer. They'll figure out he's going senile or he'll finally die."

"What about Marita? Is she not working for him anymore?"

Krycek shook his head. "She's hiding out in New Zealand somewhere."

"Okay, done deal. Get the hell out of here, Krycek, before I change my mind and shoot you just for the hell of it." Mulder waved his gun towards the door.

Mike escorted Krycek to his car with his Berretta firmly lodged against the man's spine. When the car finally disappeared into the darkness there was an audible sigh of relief in the room.

Kyle was the first to speak. "Okay folks, where should we move to? We've got connections with other groups in Virginia, Louisiana, Utah and Ontario. Decide quick so I can get in touch with my contacts and make the a rrangements."

A cacophony of voices rose up. They argued, counter-argued, discussed and dissected the situation into the wee hours of the morning, until it was finally decided that the resistance group would go to Louisiana. Mulder and Scully and John and Walter decided to return to their respective homes. Scully insisted that her mother stay with them for a few weeks until they knew for sure that they were all safe.

Not ones to waste time once a decision was made, Mike and Ham spirited Julie off to the lab to tell them what pieces of equipment were too expensive to leave behind. Kyle took off to go meet with a contact to help facilitate the move. Robin started organizing everything else that needed to be packed and Maggie Blodgett and Chris Faber said their farewells and took off for parts unknown.

The sun was up before John and Walter were alone together again. Walter was exhausted from too much time out of bed and his refusal of any pain medication. John had to relent to laying down beside him to get him back in bed.

"I want to go home. I don't want to stay here another night," Walter said in a tone that was as close to a whine as John had ever heard come from his mouth.

"You aren't in any shape to leave. And I can't just ditch these people. They've stuck by us through thick and thin. I have to help get them out of here." He grew quiet for a moment, taking Walter's hand. "Besides, I want to say goodbye to Kyle. I don't want to just wander off into the sunset and leave him in the dust. I owe him more than that."

Walter squeezed his hand. "Yes, I suppose you do. I just want to be able to put all of this behind me. I wasn't exactly planning on retiring anytime soon, but I don't think fifty is the optimum age to start a new career either. I don't know what I'm going to do starting at ground zero."

John saw the tense set of his jaw. Walter wasn't someone who easily coped with being out of control of any situation. He knew the coming months were not going to be easy on them. He hoped like hell he could come up with some excuse to keep his job at Georgetown, but he wasn't feeling real creative at this point. Maybe he'd just give up on trauma altogether, hang up a sign and go into private practice.

"We'll be fine," he told Walter, believing it with all his heart. "After everything we've lived through in the last few months, we'll find our way in the world again. As long as I have you I know where I belong." He kissed Walter deeply, sliding his arms around him.

"As long as I have my big, mean, pain in the ass cripple I don't need anything else. When I thought I'd lost you I lost everything."

Walter playfully swatted him on the butt and smiled. "Just wait, Medicine Boy, when I get my stitches out you're going to pay for that."

The group decided not to wait around and find out if they really had the 48 hours Krycek had promised them. By nightfall the life of the resistance members was loaded into the now-black van and they were prepared to leave. As Kyle was hitching his motorcycle to the back of the van John approached him.

"Kyle, can we talk for few minutes?"

"Sure, let me get this last knot tied and I'll be done."

John watched as he finished securing the bike. When he was done Kyle stood and faced him. John could have sworn there were tears glistening in his eyes. "Am I supposed to shake your hand and say it was nice to know you?" Kyle asked him softly.

John felt a pang of regret in his chest, Kyle's pain cutting quick and deep into him. He put his hand on Kyle's shoulder, pulling him closer. He kissed him softly on the cheek. "No regrets, okay? I don't have any. I'm damned lucky to know you, Kyle. And I'm always here if you need me. Go find somebody wonderful and be happy. You deserve it."

Kyle laughed. "Deserving something and getting it are two totally different things. I've had two wonderful people in my life, John. Elizabeth and You. I don't think a guy can ask for much more than to fall in love twice in one lifetime. I think I should just be grateful for that and concentrate on getting these goddamn aliens off the planet for the time being."

There was an awkward silence. "I'm standing here," John said, "And I feel like a total asshole, but I just can't say goodbye."

"I'm not very good at goodbyes either. So I'm gonna turn around and put this box in the van and you're going to get in your car and leave with Walter and go have a good life.

I love you, John." He picked up the last box sitting next to the van and turned his back to John, opening the van door. John walked back towards the warehouse, a dozen things he should have said to Kyle hanging unspoken in the air between them.

Saying goodbye inside was no easier. John hugged Robin and Julie tightly and shook hands with Mike. Ham was still toting around the assault rifle on one shoulder and now had a Draganov sniper rifle over the other shoulder, so he settled for wishing him good luck in his future endeavors.

Finally Mulder, Dana and Maggie left and there was nothing else to say or do. John helped Walter into the car and with a final wave to Mike and Julie he drove away.

Walter sighed with relief as he sank into his favorite leather chair. "I didn't think I was ever going to see this place again."

"Well, you're going to be seeing plenty of it while you recuperate." John commented as he picked up the phone to order dinner. "Shit, I must have forgotten to pay the phone bill," he commented when there was no dial tone.

"That's okay, I like the idea of no interruptions for a couple of days."

"Ha. You think there won't be any interruptions? As soon as Dr. Scully calls to check on you and can't get through she'll be over here with her stethoscope in hand." John went into the kitchen to rummage in the pantry for something to serve Walter for dinner.

"John Carter, forget about food and come here." Walter called.

John came and sat on the ottoman at the foot of the chair.

Walter leaned forward carefully and ran his hand through John's hair, then moved his fingertips across the curves and planes of his face, familiarizing himself once again with the dear face of his lover. John's breathing became faster, his pulse racing from the gentle caresses. He'd dreamt of this, lived for this, for the last six months. John turned his face up and captured Walter's face between his hands, kissing him in a long, lingering fashion that left his blood pounding and his heart soaring. He was home.

"John Carter, have you ever had a perfect moment, one that you felt your whole life had led up to?"

"Oh yeah. Why?"

"Welcome to mine."

Epilogue

12 Months Later
April 18th, 2002

"John, if you polish that plaque anymore you're going to rub your name off of it," Mulder teased.

"Hey, your wife got her fingerprints all over it again!" John protested, stepping back to admire the brass plaque that read "Drs John T. Carter and Dana K. Scully, family Practitioners"

The plaque hung on the wall next to the reception desk of their new office in the Londontown, Maryland, Medical Center. They had chosen this location a few months earlier when Mulder and Scully purchased a house in the area to make room for Margaret to live with them. John and Walter were closing on their house 8 blocks away in a few weeks.

Walter approached them to refill their empty champagne glasses. "John Carter, if you beam any more you're going to combust."

"There's no such thing as spontaneous human combustion.

It's medically impossible," Scully commented. "Moira, please don't stand in the chair. Why don't you go sit in Uncle Charlie's lap, please?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

"That child has not stood still since she took her first step. I wish I had that kind of energy."

The party was in full swing. It was a joint celebration of the opening of John and Dana's medical practice and Walter's security firm. Mulder had been snapped up by the Center for Missing and Exploited Children as a profiler a mere month after Walter's return.

The small office was full. Both Dana's mother and her brothers were in attendance, as well as Frohike, Byers, and Langly. Kerry Weaver had flown in and Doug and Carol Ross were there as well with both of their children. Mike Donovan and Juliet Parish had sent flowers, but were away on their honeymoon and unable to attend.

Scully found Mulder attempting to have a conversation with her brother Bill. She came up to him and whispered in his ear. He nodded and replied "We'll say our goodbyes and blow this popsicle stand." With a wide grin on his face.

She approached John and said, "congratulations, Doctor Carter. You've got your first patient in private practice.

Five minutes apart and I'm ready for my epidural, Mr. Demille."

John grinned. "Leave it to your kid to have Mulder's timing. C'mon, Dr. Scully, let's get thee to the hospital."

"Let me get our coats and I'll drive," Walter said.

Mulder stood in the middle of the room and held up his champagne flute. "Folks, this is my final toast of the evening, to my lovely wife whom it looks like will be giving birth to our son sometime tonight."

Cheers and applause filled the air as Scully felt another contraction squeeze the breath from her. "Let's go to the hospital before he's born right here in front of our guests," she said, grabbing Mulder's arm.

John found Walter in the supply closet sifting through the coats and jackets. He grabbed him from behind and turned him around, kissing him gleefully. "You taste like champagne."

Walter smiled. "You've done a wonderful thing for the two of them. You know that, don't you?"

"Nah, what's a couple million sperm compared to everything they've done for me?"

Walter laughed and plundered John's mouth with his own, breaking the kiss when they were both rendered breathless. John felt like warmed honey was flowing through his veins. In a low, sexy voice that made John think more about getting Walter naked than delivering the newest member of the Mulder family, Walter whispered in his ear, "You taste like a man I'm going to make mind-blowing love to as soon as he gets home from delivering my godson."

John groaned happily and put his head on Walter's shoulder.

"Walter."

"Yes?"

"Thank you for being my perfect moment."

End

AdditionalAuthor's Notes:

Three things inspired this fic. Well, four as I dare not forget WP Admirer's fabulous Chicago Series I and II. First, the death of someone more dear to me than I can express. John's journey of acceptance is very much my own. I thank John for lightning my load by walking the path with me.

The second and third things are two songs from Rick Springfield's newest recording called Karma. Yeah, Yeah, laugh all you want, I am a child of the 80's and still adore the guy. Here are the lyrics that inspired me. Shock to my System kinda became Walter and John's song (to me), and Act of Faith...well, read the lyrics and it's pretty self explanatory.

Shock to My System

Words by Rick Springfield