The Genesis Project VII (5/14) by aRcaDIaNFall$ - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - ASTRID POV - We sat down to wait again, Josh pulling out his handdrawn map and staring at it, making tiny tears along each edge of the page so that it had a fringe. I sat thinking. The excuse I'd figured out earlier would still work if we were back at school in the next half hour, but after that would be stretching the boundaries of belief. There was only so long that people would believe I was comforting my upset little brother. As time kept on ticking by I began to work though options in my mind, trying to come up with some excuse to cover our absence. It wasn't that we'd get in much trouble at school - everybody would be concerned rather than angry. It was because I didn't want to upset Mommy or Daddy or Grandma. Luckily, at eight minutes to eleven a nurse approached her. I recognised her - Gemma. She'd been there when Erin was born. "Hey, guys. Doc Harrison sent me to take you back to school." "We're waiting for test results," I protested, not standing. She smiled, or maybe it was a grimace. "Yeah, about that..." "We're not leaving til the results come back," I said stubbornly. "Well, the test results *have* come back, sweetie, it's just that Doc Harrison thought he should try calling your Mom and Dad and telling them first." "You can't do that!" I protested, getting to my feet. "He never said he was going to do that!" "It's just that we're dealing with adult issues here, hon. Legally, we can't just -" "It's *my* bloodtest!" I felt humiliated and infuriated, and, what's more, betrayed by Duckie and Doctor Harrison. I was being treated like a child. But then, I realised, I was starting to act like one. I controlled my temper with difficulty. This was something I passionately needed to *know*. Didn't I have rights? "Sweetie..." She stared at me and I stared back, resolved. "Let me go check," she agreed, clearly reluctant. She returned two minutes later with Dr Harison and I found myself unable to pull my eyes from the manilla folder he held in one hand. "Did Jacqueline tell you before to do what we wanted?" I demanded before he could open his mouth to speak. "Jacqueline asked me to call her with the results as soon as they came back," he admitted slowly. "Did you call her?" I was so unbelieveably angry at him and at her. We weren't just gullible little school kids and Duckie at least should know that. Why didn't she trust us with that information? Why did they have such a hard time just treating us as equals? "I put through a call to Australia, -" "Did she tell you to tell us?" "It wasn't Jacqui who answered the phone, puss." He kneeled down in front of me. "You know Graham, don't you? He answered." "And he told you not to tell us," I realised, silently hating him. "He didn't know what was going on. He said we should call your parents and so-" "I told you not to call them!" I protested. I felt myself starting to cry. I just wanted to be told. It was my right to know. Where was the justice in witholding the information from me? This whole stupid world is just so unjust. Whole stupid world. "-we tried to call them, but we couldn't get through. Their celphones seem to be switched off." For a moment I panicked, but then it was clear - they had turned off their phones for the plane home. They were coming home. The relief - and squeamish, apprehensive fear - was immense, and managed for a second to allay my anger and frustration. But as my eyes lit on the folder in his hand I felt it all surging back through me. "Try calling Duckie again," I insisted. "Try her on her celphone." Gemma produced a tissue and was trying to wipe away my tears as if I was a baby. I pulled away from her, infuriated. I could wipe my own nose. This was just ridiculous. I think it was only because I was crying that Dr Harrison picked up a cordless phone at the front desk and handed it to me to put in Duckie's number. Josh had a better memory for numbers and took it from me, punching in the digits and silently giving the phone back to the doctor. We all waited, listening to the buzzes and crackles of international connections, then, finally, a ringing. I heard Duckie's "Hello?" and then Dr Harrison moved away from us so we couldn't follow the conversation. "This is important, huh?" Gemma asked quietly. She was looking at us curiously. "You kids are very brave, coming here all by yourselves." Don't patronise us, I wanted to say, but Josh spoke before I could. "We just want the truth," he said quietly. "We're entitled to it," I added, not caring if I was being antagonistic. Gemma reacted almost as if it were a threat, pulling back a little, giving us a tight smile. "Sure you are," she agreed, but she obviously didn't understand. She stood straighter and in the following silence I reviewed our cover story to distract myself. Assuming we left within the next ten minutes, with or without results, we would be back at school by half past eleven. Two and a half hours to account for. I didn't know how I was going to do that. It ended up being only two or three more minutes until Dr Harrison returned. He was still holding the folder and phone and I prayed that it was a good sign. "Well?" I demanded. "What did she say?" "She doesn't think that you should be allowed to see the test results," he admitted. But he continued before I could errupt. "*However*, she would like to talk to you." He held out the phone and I took it. "Duckie? Where are you? Why'd you leave the house?" "Hey, sweetie. You caught me at the hairdressers. I'm sorry - I had a booking and... " Since when had the hairdressers sounded like a hospital, I wondered. "I hear you've been getting pretty tangled in the red tape." I didn't want to have to tell her about that, it would only make me cry. "Is it true? Are we a match?" She drew a deep breath. It sounded as though she was still coming to grips with it. "Yeah, you are, baby." Suddenly I realised that I didn't know whether this was good news or bad news. It meant that Daddy was my uncle; it gave me a background beyond a sterilized lab and otherwise focused parents. But it also meant that Daddy's hunt for Samantha had ended with the ground, not the skies, and I knew how much that would hurt him. I didn't want Daddy to be hurt. Josh was tugging at my arm and I quickly handed him the phone. He took the news expressionlessly, but his grip on my arm tightened. I could tell he was having the same conflicting response. He said goodbye to Duckie and hung up, handing the phone back silently. Dr Harrison himself drove us back to school, signing us in at the office and apologising that our supposed before-school doctor's appointment had been delayed due to emergencies at the clinic and he hadn't wanted us at school until a blood test came back ruling out a communicable flu virus. He smiled at us as he left and I gave him a small smile in return, not forgiving him for making it so terribly difficult but appreciating that he was at least trying. Handed late slips and sent off to our respective classes, Josh and I, officially flu-less, went to get our bags from the library. I tucked the manilla folder Dr Harrison had handed me into my school bag but then pulled it out again, needing to see for myself. I picked up Josh's and my own PCR prints - they matched, obviously, but somehow it was still a relief to have that proof. Then I picked up Daddy's, slowly, sliding it into place over ours, expelling the breath I'd been holding. Somehow I'd needed that, needed to hold proof in my hands. Maybe it was the new doubt I felt about Duckie, I thought unhappily as I slipped the prints back in the folder and the folder in my bag between textbooks. "What now, Joshie?" I mused. He shrugged. "Wait and see." But despite his non-committal attitude I knew he was feeling the same confusion and disquiet I was. I reached to give him a quick hug, more for my sake than his, and we each went to class. I felt an odd sort of surrealism as I snuck into drama class and joined in the impro games, as I sat working by myself in math on a trig equation although we were supposed to work in pairs, as for once I didn't raise my hand once to argue a point in English. And every time I looked at the manilla folder poking out of my bag my stomach jumped. I wanted to go home. That was the all consuming thought. Home wasn't just a refuge for Mom and Daddy - it was a sanctuary for me and Josh too, a place where, at the end of the day, I could be assured of love and comfort and trust and not condescension but be treated as an equal. I wanted that badly. Why did it take so long to grow up? - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - We decided to leave Erin with Mom until after our meeting with Skinner and only stopped home briefly to shower and change. I tried to check Mulder's bandages but he was being unco-operative so I allowed him his space. He'd been in a bad mood before and it was only worse now - our flight had been turbulent, tough both physically and psychologically. Skinner was waiting for us, which meant I wasn't going to get an opportunity to confront Mulder until after the meeting. In a way, I almost welcomed the postponement - I still didn't know what I could say, what I believed. Not only dealing with the news of Samantha but now with shooting an innocent child. Not fatally, thank God. I don't think he would still be in one piece if he'd killed her. It would have crushed him. The meeting with Skinner wasn't long, fortunately. He only wanted a brief rundown of what had happened, which we gave him, details of the case and the night's events. "And this girl, Louisa Redburg - she was in the house, after all?" Mulder affirmed it. "And how was it exactly, Agents, that you were shooting at an unarmed fourteen year old girl?" he demanded. Were we the cause of his bad day, I wondered, or were we just the icing on the cake? "There was an apparition," Mulder explained tightly. "A violent, harmful spiritual entity -" "A ghost, you mean," Skinner interrupted. Mulder stared at Skinner. "I was attacked: shot at. In defending myself I let off several shots attempting to repel my attacker." "And one of these bullets ended up going through Louisa Redburg's arm?" "It was dark and dusty, I had been stabbed and was caught up in a galeforce wind," Mulder retorted testily. "I was unaware that she was there or that I had hit her until the dust cleared." - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - He stared at me and I stared right back, angry. I didn't want to be here, answering these questions. I just wanted to go home and block it all out. Block everything out. Scully spoke up suddenly. "Sir, it's possible that I may have been the one who shot Louisa." "What?" Stunned, I spoke the word aloud, staring at her. She stared right back at me. I couldn't for the life of me figure out the game she was playing. "I accidently fired my weapon earlier in the evening. It's possible that Louisa was wounded and only later lost consciousness, when she was found by Mulder." She bit her lip, but continued calmly, "I think ballistics evidence will show that the bullet in Louisa Redburg came from my gun." What the hell are you doing, Scully? I wondered. Protecting me? Skinner was staring at us. Then, as if unable to figure out what was going on either, he pushed back his chair and stood. "Get back to me with a report once you've got your stories straight." - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - He managed to hold it in until we were in the car, though I could see what an effort even that was. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Scully?" he exploded. "Why are you taking the blame for this?" I had my reasons, but right then wasn't the time to explain them to him. "I'll tell you when we get home. Let's go get Erin, first." We collected Erin and the kids' stuff from Mom's on the way home. Erin had been in a bad mood, Mom said; she had a slight temperature and Mom thought maybe it was a virus. She was cranky but I just held her for a full two or three minutes, soaking up some of that precious innocence. Mulder only reached out to touch her, letting her take his pinkie finger, before pulling away again and getting into the car. He was so contained during the drive home and it worried me immensely, but I couldn't argue while we were driving, especially with Erin in the car. I put Erin in her crib in her bedroom and went into ours. Mulder was waiting for me and I didn't hesitate. "I have my reasons for taking the blame," I said quietly. He didn't answer, only kept watching me, so I continued. "We've got bills to pay, soon maybe a mortgage... We can't afford to both lose our jobs." He jumped up. "Your job wasn't ever *at* risk here, Scully!" I stared him down, fighting hard to keep calm. "Mulder, I let you continue work on a case even when you were clearly psychologically and physically unfit for duty. As both an FBI agent and doctor I should have known better and I should have stopped you. I was the one who made the decision that we went there, and I was the one who gave you a gun and sent you in there alone. I'm responsible for the fact that you went back in there. That's my responsibility, and that puts me just as much as fault as you, which means we both go down. But if I take responsibility for accidently shooting the girl, if only *I* take the fall -" "If only one of us has to take the fall then let me be me!" he demanded. His jaw was set, his eyes dark with hurt. "I did it. It's incomprehensible that you should be punished for an action of mine. You weren't responsible and we both know that. And without me, you've got a future in the bureau. You know that. Everybody hates me, but they respect you." "I can't do that, Mulder," I told him quietly, but with utter conviction. I couldn't take him away from the x-files. I couldn't go on without him. "You know I can't. *You're* the x-files, Mulder. I've just tagged along, helped and hindered." "No!" he shouted and I jumped at the sudden volume. "Don't give me that B.S., Scully! You know you're just as much a part of the x-files as I am. Don't even say stuff like that. I won't do it." The fierce anger he's displayed seemed to fade but his eyes were still intense. "I'm not going to lose you there. They're not going to split us up." "Mulder, just don't make this any harder than it is," I pleaded, heart aching. The thought of either of us leaving the bureau terrified me but I'd made my decision and as insane as it seemed I was going to stick by it. Nothing would shake my faith in the necessity for Mulder in the bureau. The stakes we were playing for were too high to lose such a high profile player. If you've gotta sacrifice the queen to protect the king's position, do it. "I don't want to talk about this any more, for the moment," I told him quietly. Because if we kept arguing it was inevitable that he'd wear me down. I reached out to touch him but he turned away from me, almost shrinking from my touch. I blinked back the tears and left the room, returning to Erin's bedroom. Checking her temperature, I found she still had a slight fever and gave her some Baby Panadol. She only seemed to grow more irritable and I held her, pacing with her for a while. She was fretful, clinging to me, listlessly twisting in my arms. I drew her a bath but she cried as I was bathing her and then wouldn't eat or drink anything I offered her. I put her back in the crib and she immediately got to her feet, reaching to be picked up again, whining insistently. It was almost as if she were responding to my own misery, to the tension between Mulder and I. It wouldn't be the first time. I sat in the rocker with her, trying to get her to go to sleep, gently stroking her face. At first she was fidgeting, tugging at my hair, squirming and rubbing her eyes, but then she started to calm down and finally fell asleep, breathing noisily through her open mouth. I laid her in the crib, running a hand over her sweaty hair, kissing her flushed cheek. I checked her temperature and she was still ninety nine. It didn't help that the day was warming up and her room was hot and airless. I flipped on the ceiling fan, watching Erin sleep as I listened to the rhythmic whirring. I no longer felt angry at Mulder or even really upset, but rather a tired emptiness within me, a desire for comfort and affection. I left the bedroom and found Mulder stretched out on the couch. It was almost chilly in the living room - Mulder had switched the air conditioning on when we got home - and I slipped my jacket back on. He lay still, his eyes closed, but I could tell from his breathing that he wasn't asleep. He was still wearing his dress pants but had stripped down to his white undershirt. His hair was ruffled and he needed a shave, his face was still grazed and nicked. He looked worn, haunted. "Mulder?" I said softly, crouching beside him. He opened his eyes, moving his head slightly to look at me, his dark eyes searching my face. I thought he would say something about our argument earlier but instead he reached out to touch the the fabric of my pants against my hip. "Did you dress in black on purpose?" "For mourning, you mean?" I shook my head. "Not really. Should I have?" "No," he mused quietly, his fingers sliding up my side, his thumb working in circles. "I don't want mourning." He slid both hands around me, tugging, and I accordingly slid closer to him, reaching to return the touch, my hand on his upper arm. "No, closer," he insisted, and I sat on the edge of the couch beside him. He reached up, touching my hair. "It's like gold," he murmured, his lips barely moving as his fingers roamed through my hair, played with it. "I like it wavy, bouncey... so feminine, the way it frames your face. You're beautiful. I don't tell you often enough, do I, Scully?" "You do okay," I assured him gently, touched by his rambles though my heart still ached with concern. His hands moved to my jacket, playing with the cuffs, caressing the collars, touching the lining. His need for touch, to consume every detail about me, was both disturbing and comforting. He buttoned it up for me, then straight away unbuttoned it again, easing it off me, the whole time his dark eyes fixated on my face. He tucked his thumbs under the waistband of my pants and I reached down, putting my hands over his, knowing I had to stop him. "Mulder, don't do this if it's just a distraction," I told him unhappily. He shook his head, freeing his hands and easing my thin, sleeveless top up so that he could kiss my belly. "I don't want to think about it," he murmured, working his way up, lifting the top off over my head. "I just want to think about you." I caught his chin and stared into his eyes. They were filled with an indescribably overwhelming *need*. I nodded, silently giving my permission, allowing my understanding, my comfort. I wouldn't deny those things to him. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - ASTRID POV - Daddy picked us up from school. I felt my stomach twisting with guilt when I saw him, panicking for a moment that somehow he'd found out about our excursion that morning and come to yell at us. It was irrational fear; he was going to find out anyhow. I was going to have to tell him. And I didn't really think he'd be angry - not at us, at least. He bent down to hug us hello and I could tell by his wet hair and fresh scent that he'd just had a shower. There was only one reason why Daddy had a shower in the middle of the afternoon and I knew what that reason was. I also knew that if he was still so unhappy after that, this was going to take a *lot* of getting over. I pulled out the folder and handed it to him silently. He took it, thinking it was just a school assignment. I watched his face, saw the realisation flooding it, his eyes darting across the pages. "When did you do this?" "This morning. Josh and I skipped school," I admitted, adding, "It was my decision. It's my fault." "You're not in trouble, kiddo," he murmured absently, his eyes glued to the PCR prints. He ran a finger lightly over them as if uncertain if they were actually there and genuine. Finally he looked down at me. "You went and got this done, all by yourselves?" "We caught a bus to the clinic. Dr Harrison did the tests... he wasn't going to tell us the results but he told Jacqui and she told us." I added, emphatically, "I hate red tape." "And there's plenty more of it ahead of you," he assured me, his eyes back on the pages. I didn't like how absorbed he seemed to be. Now didn't seem like a time when such intense focus was a good thing. "Daddy?" I tugged at his arm and he closed the folder, passing it back to me and fishing for his keys. "Yeah, let's go home," he said, as if agreeing to my unspoken plea. I knew what he was thinking - he dreamed of home, as we all did. I had been longing for the comfort of home ever since we'd returned to school. But already I had a funny feeling about it, as if the tension had compromised the security, threatened our refuge. Home had always been the place where we could retreat and lick our wounds, return to the real world where things Mom and Dad witnessed on the job simply didn't exist, get a dose of reality in the form of diapers and family dinners and math homework and sitcoms on FOX, all that was so wonderfully simple and natural and even mundane - so *real*. But not now. Daddy showed Mom the PCR prints and in return she showed him a photograph of somebody called Hillary Walkins. "That's not her," Daddy said impatiently, barely glancing at the photo. "She's similar, but the girl I saw had blue eyes, not green. And she was younger." He was stressed out and so was Mommy. Even Erin was unhappy and Josh and I played with her for a bit, trying to cheer her up. It wasn't as if we really had much else to do - Mom and Dad were too busy with their own stuff to worry about us. But that was okay - Josh and I understood. I did wish, though, that they'd talk to us about Cate being Samantha and what that meant to them and to us, because at the moment I didn't really know how I was supposed to be feeling. I guess I kinda still felt numb - that was how Mom and Dad looked like they felt. They looked kinda angry with each other, too - Mom kept snapping and Dad was kinda sulking, all quiet. But I think that was just the stress. Josh and I talked about it a bit but we didn't really figure that it was anything more than Samantha til we heard them arguing again that night when we were supposed to be in bed. I missed Joshie - even though we both had our own bedrooms now I missed being able to talk to him as we fell asleep, so sometimes I'd sneak into his room after Mom and Dad said goodnight and we'd share his bed. We were both trying to get to sleep that night when their voices - they'd been talking, just quietly - started to get louder and louder. They were yelling at each other, maybe not exactly angry but more pleading, like they were unhappy. Mommy kept saying "Only one of us can take the fall," and Daddy would respond something that '*I* shot her' - always the emphasis on the 'I', and I knew they weren't talking about Samantha. Had Daddy shot somebody? Badly? Had he killed somebody? Would be be fired? Jailed? He would go to prison for murder, wouldn't he? I realised how terrible this must be on top of everything else. "Try not to think about it," I whispered to Joshie, because I knew he was still awake and listening like I was. "Too late," he whispered back. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - "You two are extraordinarily lucky, you know that?" Skinner stared at us without the hint of a smile. "I wouldn't say that," Mulder responded, just as grimly. "Given the hell my life has become over the last forty-eight hours." "Well, you've got something to be thankful for." Skinner nudged a file across the table and I picked up the x-ray within it, holding it up to study it. "Her doctors were able to repair all the nerve damage successfully. She should recover eighty to one hundred percent use of her right arm. You're very lucky." I looked up at him but couldn't be certain who had been specifically addressing. Had he believed my claim yesterday? He reached across the table to draw the file back toward him, slapping it closed and tossing it aside. "Furthermore, due to the success of the surgery and the good prognosis her family has decided not to press charges against you - either of you, that is. I've written my report on the matter, and I see no reason why this should go any further." Our stunned relief must have showed because he continued quickly, "*However*, this is still nevertheless a very serious incident and as such I have no choice but to suspend you both for four weeks - without pay - starting immediately. . . .But, as I said: you're damn lucky." He eyed us both knowingly. I knew exactly what he was thinking, why he had chosen this course of discipline. He could see that Mulder and I both needed the time off, that we were wrecks, that Mulder in particular would have been not only unproductive but also dangerous in the field. The disciplinary action was a way of easing his own conscience at downplaying what had happened. It was the way I imagined my Dad had treated his crew. Dad could be stern; he was as full of rules as every other navy or military man. But he was fair. There were still a few fair men in our unfair world. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - We were becoming insomniacs. Not just Scully and I but the kids as well. Scully had had trouble sleeping sometimes since the Sabrina incident and at the moment I was averaging two or three nightmares a week - my only salvation being the near impossibility of sleep. Josh and Astrid had started staying up til all hours, too. Astrid had always done her own thing, staying up to finish assignments or finish a book, and there had been a few times in the past where I'd found Josh's light streaming through the gaps in the curtain around his old bed at three or four in the morning. Sometimes he was still reading or writing, other times he had fallen asleep with the book open on his chest. Now it seemed that every night one or both of them were awake and restless. When it came to the kids it was stress from school, I thought, the overload of work and thoughts in their mind that wouldn't let them rest. Chances were that every night at least one member of the family would be sleepless, especially now with Samantha. "Let's take them out of school, go somewhere." Scully, lying beside me just as awake as I was, slowly turned her head. "Go where?" "Take a vacation. Go anywhere. Get away for a couple of weeks." She sighed, moving restlessly. "We can't afford it, Mulder. With four weeks without pay it's going to be hard enough keeping all the bills paid..." "So we dig into our savings," I said recklessly. "No." She shook her head. "We made an agreement, Mulder. We said we'd never spend that money." "We're going to need it some day,' I protested. "Sending the kids to college, -" "So it's a college fund. We're not touching it until then. We can manage without it." "Why does it matter so much to you what we do with it?" I demanded, getting angry. At three forty-eight am I had a right to be frustrated. "Because it was important to you, Mulder! It was important to you that we got along without it." I kicked back the sheet and stood, stretching my limbs and spine, rolling my neck. I didn't want to hear it, didn't want to think about it. "Mulder," she said gently, "My mom could lend us some more money to cover the next -" "No charity!" We took too much from Mrs Scully. She did more for us than we deserved. "We'll stay at home, we'll watch our expenses." "Fine," she agreed tightly. I could tell she was hurt but I didn't know how to reach out to her after I had pushed her away. I wondered if I'd ever figure that out. "You can't just run away from this," she added quietly, not looking at me. "You can't just move on as if this hasn't happened." Couldn't I? I thought silently. I wasn't so sure. end pt 5 The Genesis Project VII (6/14) by aRcaDIaNFall$ - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - JACQUELINE POV - "Ebony, the chocolate or the caramel? No, don't just point, tell me. Chocolate or caramel? Say it. No, you can't have it until you say it. Caramel. Ca-ra-mel." "Just give it to her," I told Grae. I could see the fear and unhappiness in Ebony's eyes at his bully tactics. "You're scaring her." "I'm just trying to teach her to talk!" he protested. "Just back off, Jacqui. Ebs, you've gotta tell me. Just say it: caramel." But she looked away, rubbing at her eyes, fidgeting uncomfortably. I took the wrapped caramel ice-cream bar from Grae's hand and gave it to Ebony. She took it shyly, sliding past the both of us and going outside. I heard the screen door swing closed after her with its usual rattle. "I was almost there," he said sharply. "I almost had her talking." "We can't force her to talk if she doesn't want to." He looked at me as if I were a simpleton. "She's not mute just because she *wants* to be. It's deeper than that." And it ran deep with him, too. The past few days any discussion we'd had about Ebony had inevitably become an argument. We'd been told that if we were staying in Australia she had to be put into a school and obviously we couldn't just enrol her in the local primary school. The closest Deaf and Blind School was almost an hour away and unless we could get Ebony talking that was where she was going - despite the fact that an audiologist had run tests and assured us Ebony's hearing was perfectly fine. It was her muteness that classified her as having a disability - the fact that it was psychological rather than physical didn't change the necessity for special schooling. Grae was getting more frustrated by the day. She understood English, we knew that. She could read English and follow spoken instructions flawlessly - she just wouldn't talk. The therapist she saw for an hour every week - it was a forty minute drive to his office and then the same back again - wasn't making any progress. He'd suggested that she learn sign language if she refused to communicate vocally, and I think the idea that Ebony appear so handicapped angered Grae. "She's *not* deaf," he had told me, endless times. And so he kept bullying her, trying to get her to talk. "You're not helping her by pushing her like this," I told him. "She's going to end up hating you." "She won't," he retorted. "Didn't you see in her eyes? You're scaring her. You're making her do something she's not ready to do. Just let her take her time. She'll get there." "Just shut up for a minute, Jacqueline." He was trying to think but that hardly gave him the right .... "Don't speak to me like that," I said quietly. He turned around to face me slowly, and sighed. He was running his hands through his hair and I suddenly realised how grey he was - maybe it was the way the light caught it. He looked tired. "Sorry." I reached out to touch his arm lightly. "Don't be sorry. Just don't do it again." - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - Graham had taken Ebony to visit his father in the nursing home - they went the same time each week without fail, Jacqui said. I wondered vaguely if that was why Jacqui always chose this time to call us. "If the world didn't suck we'd all fall off," Jacqueline offered with a philosophical shrug. She waved at me, trying to get my attention. I'd completely zoned out. I stared at her image, not really knowing how to respond to the quip, not having the energy to. Mulder, Mulder, Mulder... his name thudded endlessly in my tired brain. "What's up, Dana?" she pressed, cocking an eyebrow. She always seemed to sit close to the camera, and I always felt as if she were in my face, needed to take a step back to give myself some space. "How's Fox doing with the whole Samantha thing?" "It's more than that, now." "What do you mean, more than that?" I really, *really* didn't want to have to explain everything, but I did it as briefly as possible. "Bad case, we made mistakes. We've both been suspended, four weeks without pay." "Yowch." Jacqueline pulled a sympathetic face. "That's got to be bad." "We've been through worse," I answered tightly, though I wasn't exactly sure. This would have to rank right up near the top of disasters and depression. I was having enormous difficulty in dealing with Mulder. The truth about Samantha - and the mistake that he had made in shooting Louisa Redburg - had driven a wedge between us. It hadn't been the first time, but it was rare that he didn't seem to display any interest in drawing closer to me again - and that I was having a great deal of trouble myself putting in the effort of reaching out. Jacqui summoned up a smile. "Hey, you should make the most of your time off. Take the kids away on vacation or something?" "We can't afford it." By now that answer came as automatically as "I'm fine". Her false smile faded and she looked at me curiously, as if about to divulge a secret. "Come visit us," she said softly. "Jacqueline, we really can't afford -" "I'll pay," she broke in. "I can't ask you to do that," I protested. I felt uneasy taking gifts from Jacqui. "Listen, we need to discuss the whole Samantha-Cate thing. That's something that needs to be done face to face. And if I could come back to the US, I would. But I'm stuck here for a while longer. It's only fair that I pay your fares out. The kids, too." How could she be so free with money, I wondered. Although, admittedly, she'd given herself quite a handsome salary working at the clinic - what she had been selling people had been willing to pay for. She could afford the airfares, no problems. It wasn't even the charity of the action that bothered me the most. It was the near-desperation of the suggestion; it was a plea. "How are things between you and Graham?" I asked softly. She must have seen the connections I had made because she didn't seem surprised by the question. "Depends." "On what?" "The time of day, the weather, everything and anything." "Has he been violent?" She shook her head immediately. "No. Not at all. He shouts, when he gets frustrated, and he swears... but I can deal with that. I don't like it but I put up with it and try to change it." She was rubbing her hands together, I noticed. "Dana, come visit," she pleaded. "I really want you to see the place. Just make it a vacation, kick back and relax." "It's hardly going to be a vacation for Mulder," I reminded her. The idea of relaxing at a time like this seemed almost ridiculous. "Well... It'll be a change of scenery, if nothing more. You guys need that. The kids do too. You're all burnt out." She paused. "Is Fox angry at me?" I didn't want to lie but I didn't really know how to tell the truth. "He's not angry at *you*, per se," I said slowly. "But he's angry... and upset." "How would you suggest I..." she frowned, trying to phrase what she wanted to say most clearly. "...that I deal with him about all of it? I mean, will he listen if I try to tell him how sorry I am? Because... God, I'm so sorry, Dana." "I know," I agreed heavily. I'd seen the genuine grief and regret she'd displayed at finally realising what she had done when she pressed the muzzle of the gun against her parents' heads. That had been horror at what it had made of her, horror at the truth of the situation, that she had taken the lives of two misguided, very human, beings. And to discover that one of them was the holy grail, the one truth and hope that a man had ever lived for... "It's just going to take some time," I told her. "It's deep. It's so, so deep..." Rubbing my eyes, I felt weighed down with weariness. For my own sake I wanted to stay as far out of Mulder's agony as I could, but I knew I had to make the effort to be with him, help him through the grief and anger. But, God, it was hard. It was exhausting. "How are the kids holding up?" To be honest, I hadn't really had much time to devote to the kids since we'd returned. "I don't know," I confessed, feeling helpless and horrible, neglectful. I barely seemed to find the time and energy to organize meals and bedtimes - I didn't even think about getting beyond that, not yet. "I think," Jacqui said slowly, "that it's going to be difficult for them... Keep an eye on Astrid in particular. She needs to be talked to. She'll go mad if she's kept out of the loop. She doesn't pick up things by just watching, like Josh does." "I wish you were here," I said impulsively. I wished that she was there to take the kids out, get them out of our way, comfort them and explain to them what was going on because at the moment I just couldn't. "I wish so too," she agreed wistfully. And, no doubt, she wanted just as much reassurance as the kids did. She needed to lean on us just as much as we needed to lean on her. "Then come back," I pleaded. I needed her companionship, the understanding and support of another adult that I wasn't getting from Mulder. And I wanted to see her, see for myself how she was, how she was dealing with all this, how things with Graham were. I couldn't think about him without a little fear creeping in. "I can't, Dana." "Why not?" Was Graham not letting her leave? She grimaced, but her face was otherwise unreadable. "It's just not possible at the moment. I would, if I could, but... Come visit us, please?" I couldn't agree to it, certainly not without consulting Mulder and the kids, but also because I didn't know how much damage the stress of going over there would cause. We were just all so precariously balanced.. "I'll have to talk to Mulder about it," I said finally. "That's all I can promise." - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - JACQUELINE POV - A truck rattled past on the highway and the verandah vibrated under us, rumbling like thunder. I was used to it by now. We were sitting on an old sofa on the veranda just outside out bedroom, the bedroom light shining out so that we were in light and shadows. It was a chilly night and Grae had draped a huge old blanket over us, so big that it bunched and hung in loose, thick folds. He was warm and I snuggled down contentedly against him, sleepy though it was only just past nine. I yawned and it ended up as a sigh, almost catlike. Grae chuckled. "What's up?" "Nothing," I fibbed, closing my eyes and pressing my face against his shoulder, but pulling back as I yawned again. There was a sort of relief, always, when he was kind to me, when he took care of me. I could stop being strong for a while, stop having to think about everything for myself. "Bullshit." But his retort, like his smile, was goodhumoured. "Just... Fox and Dana." "Oh." Immediately he tensed a little, some of the life went out of him. He always went like that when I brought them up and I never knew if I was sad or angry. "Don't go like that," I pleaded, maybe a little uninhibited by the sleepy snugness. "Sorry, pumpkin." He kissed my hair and I slumped back against him. "Go on, pour out," he prompted cryptically. I told him of my conversation with Dana earlier in the day, briefly recounted what I knew of Fox's history, his - and later Dana's, too - search for his sister, how they were coping... "I asked them to come stay awhile," I admitted, snuggling even closer because I wasn't sure how he'd respond. "Shit, Jacqui..." He sighed heavily. I sensed he was going to go on but then he stopped himself to think. He wanted me all to himself, I knew. But I wanted to help Fox and Dana, and I wanted their help. I wanted Fox's forgiveness - I didn't deserve it, but I wanted it. I wanted comfort and I wanted absolution. "I'm a part of it all," I explained quietly. I was treading carefully. I had told him that I had shot my parents, but I don't know if he'd really heard it, really believed it. I don't think he had. "I'm responsible." "You're not responsible." "Don't go easy on me. I know I did something unforgiveable... but it was something I could deal with, until I found out who Cate really was. Then it just gained this whole other dimension... I didn't just kill Cate, who was just so unemotional that she didn't seem human... I killed somebody's *sister*. I killed the sister of somebody I love -" An involuntary jerk went through his body at the word "- and I took away any chance he had of meeting her again." "If your parents hadn't been killed, he never would have investigated the Genesis Project," Grae pointed out. "He never would have known you, or Astrid or Josh." "True," I agreed, secretly heartened not only by the suggestion but by his willingness to comfort me even when it came to Dana and Fox. "They never would have gotten Erin, either. They might not have even have admitted to each other... God, that would have been strange." I could still remember their fumbling efforts, the awkwardness, the wistful longing I'd seen in both of them for a more fulfilling relationship. I yawned and Grae hugged me against him. "Beddy byes for you, too?" he teased cynically. We'd only just put Ebony to bed - well, watched as she put herself to bed and switched off the light for her, which was as close as we ever came to tucking her in. "What about Dana and Fox?" "I think you'll find it's morning in the US, honey." "Can they come stay with us?" I persisted. "Please?" He sighed, shook his head, then kissed my hair. "Well, since you asked so nicely, I guess I'll have to agree." A load fell off my shoulders and I even smiled as he added, "You're such a little manipulator." "I try," I agreed playfully. I felt a surge of affection and craned my neck to kiss him, running my fingers through his greying hair. He kissed me back, gentler, as if dissuading me, and as I settled down against him again he kissed the top of my head. We sat in silence for a few minutes, and I felt myself beginning to nod off. He nudged me. "Let's get you into bed before you fall asleep." Even though I had been the one yawning he nevertheless beat me to sleep. I lay in the darkened bedroom, somewhere in that land between asleep and awake, listening to the noises outside, my mind identifying them automatically without really penetrating any conscious level. Grae's hand, lying across my stomach, kept twitching. It unnerved me a little, this unconscious movement, but his touch was affectionate, not as suffocating as often enough it seemed to be. I could only stand a warm embrace for so long. Would Fox agree to come over and visit? I prayed so. I wanted them around, wanted to be able to tell them about the baby because I felt dishonest keeping it a secret, but I knew Dana would worry, would doubt... I fell asleep, and I dreamed of home. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - It was only late afternoon but both Mulder and Erin were asleep. I only saw him at first, curled up on our bed on the covers. It was only as I moved closer that I saw Erin in his arms; he was curled up around her like a shield, as if he were protecting her. The sight aroused in me affection, but it was distant. Lack of sleep and a tense, emotional household had left me so drained that all I could feel was weariness, all I could do was sigh. "Mommy?" It was Astrid. I remembered what Jacqueline had said - that she needed to be talked to. Jacqui was right, but I had known that. I just hadn't been able to talk to her, to find the time, to bring myself to blurt out the pain and confusion and anger that I felt and Mulder felt and my response to him pushing me away like he was. "What is it, sweetie?" "Can I shave my legs?" Whatever I had been expecting, it was not that. I stared at her and she stared back at me, but I could see the nervousness and embarrassment at asking the question in her eyes. I could see Mulder in her eyes, too. How could we never have picked up the family resemblance? They were both so like Mulder. "Yes," I said slowly. "I suppose so. If you *want* to." I watched her curiously. She nodded vigorously. "Do all the other girls in your class do it already?" I wondered aloud. "About fifty-fifty," Astrid said matter-of-factly, but still with the same embarrassment. "Some of them wax." "But some still don't?" "It's not peer pressure," she said defensively. She could see what I was getting at. "I've been thinking about it for a while. And hairy legs are really kinda *ugly*." She was wearing shorts and I glanced down at her calves. She had tiny dark hairs on her legs, only sparsely distributed. She could have gotten away without shaving them at all, ever. "I want to," she added, seeing my glance. "I want to try it, at least. If it's too hard or whatever, then I just won't do it again. I just want to try it." "Sure, sweetie," I agreed, a little amused, a little touched, more alive now that I could think of something other than Mulder's pain. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - Erin woke up before I did and awakened me trying to squirm out of my arms. "Da!" She sunk her few teeth into my arm, trying to get my attention. I went and put her in front of the TV with Josh and, needing to pee, headed to the bathroom. I found Scully and Astrid sitting side by side on a towel on the bathroom floor, each in summer pajamas (Scully always stole my boxer shorts to wear), each with white-coated legs and a razor in right hand. "Did I interrupt something?" I asked innocently. Brief sheepish embarrassment crossed Astrid's face and she glanced at Scully, as if unsure how to respond. Scully herself, although she grinned at me, looked a little self-conscious. This wasn't the first time I'd caught her shaving, I felt sure of it. Why did she look so shy? "Care to join us?" she responded, just as innocently. "I'll pass," I answered easily, but I stayed in the doorway, watching curiously as Scully showed Astrid how to manoeuvre the blade. I'd never paid quite so much attention to Scully's legs before, I didn't think. I had a sudden desire to touch her, hold her, but I held back, just watching. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - He stayed there the whole time, which made me feel oddly self-conscious - and it wasn't often that I felt self-conscious about my body with Mulder, after everything we had been through. Astrid was a little embarrassed initially but didn't seem to mind after a while. She seemed excited that I was teaching her, watched me very intently as I showed her how to avoid nicks, especially when it came to knees. The precise movements seemed to come naturally to her and she handled the razor skillfully. She had the grip of a surgeon, I thought as I watched her. I could almost see the scalpel in her hand. But she didn't have the temperament, nor the desire. She was still searching. We finished up and I left Astrid to clean up, myself following Mulder out. "Can we talk for a minute?" I asked, catching his arm. He nodded and we went into our bedroom. The covers were all crumpled and I automatically reached to tug them straight, smooth them out. "Jacqui wants us to go visit her in Australia," I said, focusing on the corner of the bedcovers. "Why?" I looked up at him unwillingly. "Go over all the information she's amassed, formalise some details, I guess. Get away." He didn't respond and I had to fight the urge to just forget all about it, give it up as hopeless. "How do you feel about her?" "You mean, do I want blood, an eye for an eye, etcetera etcetera etcetera?" "Mulder." My tone was both warning and pleading at once. He shrugged, shook his head. and stared at me grimly. The pain in his eyes was returning, bit by bit. He looked like a vagrant, hair ruffled, the grazes and lacerations on his face still healing. He stilll needed a shave. "She's offered to pay our way over, because she can't come here... We can take the kids, make it a vacation, time out..." "So now you're endorsing running away?" His remark was quick and stinging. He looked at me, tightly wound, hurt, angry. "You wanted us to take a vacation. Jacqui's offered us one. Away from here, away from work..." "But not away from Samantha." "No..." I agreed slowly. "Samantha's going to follow you wherever you go, whatever rock you try to hide under. It needs to be dealt with." "And how do you propose I *deal* with it, Scully?" He was getting in a temper and I moved forward, not wanting to comfort him but knowing he needed it. I reached out to cup the back of his head in my hand, drawing him against me. Deflated, defeated, he let me. "Let yourself grieve," I whispered. He was convulsing with silent tears against me and I wrapped my other arm around him, almost cradling him against me. "It'll stop hurting so much after a while, and though it'll still hurt - because the pain will be there forever - you'll find that you can breathe again." He was tired, too, tired of denying and fighting emotion. The flood came - not the first and it wouldn't be the last - and I let him sob against me, his fingers gripping, almost clawing at me. I was too tired to cry myself, though a few tears slipped down my cheeks as I held him, staring ahead dully. This wasn't the end of it, this was just another incident, another struggle. I was so very tired of struggling. His tears petered out and we lay together on the bed, me sitting up with the headrest digging into my back, his head in my lap. I couldn't stop touching his face, no matter how dead I felt to emotion I just couldn't stop the caresses. "Mommy?" Josh, standing in the doorway, only whispered. I think he must have thought Mulder was asleep. "What is it, sweetie?" "Erin's hungry. Should I give her something to eat?" The mention of food made my own stomach rumble, and I was surprised at myself. I hadn't eaten in hours, all day even, and I hadn't even thought of food. "See what you can find in the pantry and bring Erin in here." He headed out and I called as an afterthought, "Get Astrid to come in here, too. We've got to have a family talk." - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - ASTRID POV - Mommy was cradling Daddy's head in her lap like he was hurt. I didn't really want to go into the bedroom - family talks always made me uncomfortable and now both Mom and Dad looked like they'd been crying a lot. Daddy looked up and I think he was going to sit up when we came in but I jumped onto the bed and wrapped my arms around his middle, settling down beside him like a loyal dog, curled up watchfully. Putting Erin on the bed for Mommy to hold, Josh sat on his other side so that we were almost surrounding Daddy, protecting him. Daddy put a hand on my back, his way of hugging me closer right then, and I could feel all his pain, hear all his agonized thoughts. It was intense. It was awful. Erin didn't want to stay on the bed - she had been restless all day, and so Mommy just held onto her left wrist, giving Erin enough freedom to roam around, pressing her face against mine with a wide-eyed smile and then climbing on top of Daddy before going after the crackers Josh had brought in. My stomach felt all queasy and I knew I couldn't eat. Mommy talked. Daddy just listened, didn't contribute. Mommy told us about them getting suspended because Daddy accidently shot someone, about Duckie's offer to go visit her, that Mom and Dad and Duckie needed to talk to each other about Samantha being Cate but that it was hard because Duckie was in Australia. They didn't know that she was pregnant, I realised as Mommy talked. They didn't realise that that was why she couldn't leave Australia, because she was pregnant and if she was over here too long she wouldn't be able to fly back til the baby was born. Why hadn't she told them? "So," Mommy was saying quietly, "We all need to talk about this, decide whether or not we want to take Jacqueline's offer." Go visit Duckie in Australia? I wasn't sure. I missed Duckie, but I felt kinda funny about seeing her. It had been so long since she'd been around and I didn't know if we'd get along. "I want to," Joshie spoke up, quietly. I think he surprised all of us. "Me too." I backed Josh up immediately, not even really considering why. I trusted his judgement. Kinda funny, I guess, to rely on a six year old's judgement, but Josh just knew these things. He didn't make mistakes much. "We'd have to take you out of school," Mommy pointed out. "Good." There was genuine relief in my response. I was sick of school at the moment, even of drama, a little. I didn't have the energy for it, now especially with everything that was going on at home. "Can we afford this?" Josh wondered aloud. He had hesitated only a little before voicing the thought. "Jacqui offered to pay our airfares over." Mom spoke with a sort of tightness. I knew she and Daddy felt kinda funny about taking charity from Duckie. "Are we staying with her?" was Josh's next question. "I don't know. I guess we would be, if she had the room." I liked Duckie's house, or what we'd seen in webcam and what she'd told us about. And we could see the Harbour Bridge and Uluru and the Great Barrier Reef and all the beaches and wildlife and - "It might not be much of a vacation," Mommy said quietly. Her hair was hanging down in front of her face and Daddy reached up his free arm to tuck it behind her ear, his hand touching her cheek, the wedding band on his finger glinting a little. She smiled, but it was a sad smile. They both looked sad. "Because Daddy and Jacqui and I have very important things to discuss. That might take a little time." - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - Very important things to discuss. Very *important* things... Very important *things*... My mind played uselessly around with her wording, not wanting to go any deeper. I couldn't think of anything to say, just lay there, weary, staring morosely ahead. Tired. Maybe I could close my eyes and sleep til it was all over. I did close my eyes, and I think I actually dozed off. I found myself thinking, for some unknown reason, about Melissa's funeral. It had been relatively early on in our partnership and I hadn't known how to help Scully through it as well as, perhaps, I would now. But from the time she'd broken down in the hospital and clung to me there'd been a surprising amount of dependance. She'd gone to stay with her mom but called me, asking me to come to the funeral. I did, though I hung back, let her be with her mom and brothers. I think she'd been glad I was there, though, especially when I rescued her from the relatives and friends at the wake and we sat in my car and she cried silently, privately. I had seen it building within her, had seen the panic in her eyes as she tried to fight it down. Nobody else had seen that. "Mulder?" I jolted a little - I *had* been dozing - and opened my eyes, looking at her blearily. "Huh?" "You fell asleep." "Just dozing." I awkwardly drew myself upright and discovered that Astrid and Josh had left. Erin was sitting on the bed on Scully's other side, chewing on her own toes. I rolled my neck. "Did I miss anything?" "Depends. When did you stop listening?" She sounded a little irritable and I answered carefully, almost guiltily, "I didn't mean to fall asleep." She sighed, rubbing her eyes. "I know." Rolling over, she slid off the bed, picking up Erin. She stopped and looked at me, as if to say something, but not having anything to say she only turned and left. I put my head down, rolled over restlessly and closed my eyes again. I had seen that same grief building in Scully's eyes right then. But why now was it so much harder to do something about it? end pt 6 The Genesis Project VII (7/14) by aRcaDIaNFall$ - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - She wriggled in my arms and I accordingly lowered her to the floor. She took a few stumbling steps, still getting her balance, and then, giggling, she ran over to the large stuffed dog Josh had won at a carnival. Wrapping her arms around the creature - it was an inch or two taller than her and much wider - she almost hugged it, tugging as if she were trying to lift it up. But it was too big for her. Not quite yet, sweetie, I thought affectionately. I slumped in the rocker as I watched her exploring her toys for the hundredth time but still with delight and wonderment, as if meeting old friends. She brought me a block, and then another block, then another until I had a whole lapful, then she reversed the procedure, returning them one by one to the toybox, all the time grinning as if she had discovered the world's greatest secret. I was glad that she finally seemed to be feeling better. When she had finally finished returning the blocks to the toybox she brought me a different present - a string of fat plastic beads that had once been Astrid's. I lifted Erin up onto my lap, draping the beads around her neck. "Aren't these pretty, huh?" She grinned at me, sucking on them, and I kissed the top of her head, the silky little curls. My own hair had been straight, even as a child, and I wondered where the curls had come from. Jacqueline playing games, I thought, mildly amused by the thought, then wistful. I missed Jacqueline. I'd been determined to reach an agreement about our trip in our family meeting, but the kids had been uncertain and Mulder falling asleep hadn't helped. It was still unresolved. And yet, I thought, I wanted to go, damnit. We hadn't gone anywhere as a family, the kids had seen nowhere. Compared to my own multicultural childhood theirs seemed so narrow. And sure, Australia wasn't exactly the cultural capital of the world, but it was *somewhere*. Somewhere else but here. And I missed Jacqueline, missed her friendship. Hell, I even missed her infuriating habit of interfering. I stood, lowering Erin into her crib and absent-mindedly kissing the top of her head. Returning to our bedroom I found Mulder lying still, asleep again. I sat on the edge of the bed and shook him, a little impatient. "Mulder!" He rolled over to look at me. "What?" he asked quietly. He hadn't been asleep, I realised, feeling irrationally guilty. "We're going to Australia." He stared at me, watchful, but didn't respond. "You don't have an opinion?" "No, I don't." I couldn't tell if he was serious or if it were a deadpan wisecrack. He looked away, shaking his head, and I knew that he was serious. "I just don't know, Scully," he said hopelessly. "I can't begin to... I just don't know," he said again. "And I'm sorry, because I want to help you..." "You want to help me?" I was surprised. I wanted to help *him*. He stretched up a hand to touch my face. "I can see how much it hurts you." I caught his hand, kissing his knuckles, touched by his childlike concern and unhappiness. I wanted to hug him, comfort him, but knew that I wasn't really ready for it, not yet. I released his hand and stood, bending to briefly kiss his forehead. "I'll go call Jacqueline." - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - It was a long flight. I'd been on long flights before, but they paled in comparison. At first, of course, it was exciting for the kids, amusing for us, if chaotic. The kids had never been on a plane before and were full of questions, copying every move Scully or I made, fought over the window seat, over who got to hold Erin. We left Dulles at 8.15 am - our flight had been delayed three hours, which meant that we'd been at the airport since 3am, and the kids had been too excited and nervous to sleep. The first hour or so of the flight they'd been near-hyperactive, then they'd started to calm down, falling asleep only to be woken up half an hour later when we landed in LA for a two hour stopover. I was feeling surprisingly good about the trip. The kids may not have slept before our flight but I had, solidly, for almost twelve hours, and felt enough energy flooding through my veins to deal with the chaos and panic. Erin had cried during takeoff and landing and was still crying quietly, hiccuping. I took her for a walk around the airport, leaving Scully dozing and the kids trying to figure out how many hours left of flying time. It was a relief to get away even from Scully, to feel free of the almost cloying protection and comfort she offered me. I wanted to shrug off all the pain, all the sympathy, and just enjoy this. But I didn't know if Scully would let me do that. Ebony had been familiar with plane travel, Scully told me quietly as the seatbelts light flipped off and Astrid leaned over the headrest to check that she was allowed to undo her seatbelt. Jacqueline had told Scully how Ebony had scanned her boarding pass casually, taken the window seat, known how to put on her own seatbelt, not reacted to the plane taking off, ignored the stewardesses as they demonstrated how to use the life jackets. Josh and Astrid were the complete opposite. They watched curiously, questioned everything, all the time trying to act very adult and nonchalant. It didn't take them as long to settle down the second time and they watched the inflight movie. They'd each brought plenty to amuse themselves with - books, a tiny magnetic chessboard, the GameBoy Margaret had given them, even schoolwork. Josh was rereading a play he had written and passed it to me to proof. Scully was asleep beside me so I passed Erin over to Astrid while I read. I could hear Astrid singing softly to Erin in French, but I only picked out the occasional word. French wasn't the only language Astrid was trying to teach Erin - she had half a dozen Italian storybooks she read to her, as well as starting to teach Erin one to ten in German and Japanese several months ago. I wondered how much of it was actually getting through. "Non, non!" I heard her scold. Then, in English, "Don't, Erin! It hurts when you pull my hair. You don't want to hurt me, do you, baby? That's a good girl." - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - We didn't touch down in Sydney til one am. Then through customs and picking up our luggage and picking up our rental car and a handful of maps. Graham had given us rough directions but we took time to trace the exact route. Josh was put in charge of the map - he loved maps. Mulder drove - he had gotten used to driving on the left side of the road when he was in England, and "It's like riding a bike," he assured me. We went through the city and the kids were excited by all the bright lights - they wanted to stop or at least slow down to take it all in. But we had a three hour drive ahead of us and wanted to get there as soon as possible. We drove across the Harbour Bridge but there was surprisingly little to see. Then we were on the motorway and after half an hour or so of "Daddy, the speed is only *ninety* kilometers an hour. You're doing a hundred and five" from Astrid and occasional updates of estimated distance and time remaining by Josh, they fell into silence and then sleep. We stopped for coffee but Mulder was still tired so I took over driving. We were approaching the small town of Gerrideen and Josh was on the phone to Jacqui for directions. We turned off the highway opposite the brightly-lit minimart as directed. "We're the only house in the street with all its lights still on," Josh quoted Jacqui as saying, and he pointed to the house right on the corner. The road was tarred but unsealed, the sides becoming gravel and then grass. There was a neat wire fence, waist-height with white posts, that stretched around the property facing the road we were on and the highway. In the car's headlights I could see roses planted all along the fenceline. The window was down and I caught their faint odour. The house was only one-storey, whitewashed with a large white watertank. I couldn't see the verandah that Jacqui had told us about. Maybe it was around the other side. I parked the car off the road, between two tall, slim trees - eucalypts, I guessed, and popped my seatbelt, reaching to shake Mulder awake. Josh had already opened his car door and climbed out, curious. "We're here," I told Mulder quietly. He yawned, reaching to undo his seatbelt. Did I look as tired as he did? I didn't doubt it. I didn't wake Astrid or Erin but climbed out of the car myself, staring around. The house was brightly lit but beyond that was shadows. It would look completely different by daylight, I knew. It was still several hours til sunrise. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - JACQUELINE POV - Grae and I had been waiting up but he'd fallen asleep just after two. I shook him awake when I heard the car engine and voices out front, doors opening and closing. "They're here." He rubbed his eyes. "God, what's the time?" "Quarter to five." He groaned. "You've been awake all night? I've got work tomorrow. And you need your sleep, pumpkin." "I'm okay," I promised him. I had been too excited to sleep. I stood and pulled him upright. "C'mon." I ran to go greet them, not waiting for him. The engine wasn't running but the headlights and interior map lights were on. Dana and Fox and Josh were standing around, stretching a little - I couldn't blame them, it was a long drive - and talking quietly. I don't think they saw me at first, not until I reached the fence and was only a few feet away. "Hi." It felt like such a ridiculous, awkward way to greet them, but it had been so long since I'd seen them, and I knew this was going to be a surprise. Dana had her head in the car, reaching for something or talking to Astrid or Erin. She withdrew to look at me and gaped. "Oh my God..." she breathed. "You're - you're - Why didn't you tell us?" "I thought maybe you'd think it was a bad idea," I confessed, biting my lip as I watched for her reaction. Consternation crossed her face briefly. Fox, starting to unbuckle Erin, stopped and stared at me for a moment. I caught his eye and he gave me a nod in acknowledgement. All I could expect, I thought realistically. He looked at Dana a little strangely, and I wondered what was going on there. More problems? Dana moved closer. "You must be... seven months? Eight?" "Seven months, two weeks, three days," I answered promptly, offering her a nervous smile. It was hard to gauge her feelings. She smiled but I could see the concern in her eyes, even a little wistfulness. "That's wonderful." I reached out and hugged her, aware of the awkwardness of the situation, a little disappointed. I'd wanted to see her again for so long and now... But they were tired, I reasoned with myself. I was tired too. Give them some time for the jetlag to wear off and everything would be back to normal. I released her and she stepped back. Josh sidled up, looking at me, then hugged me only briefly before pulling back again. I drew a deep breath and tried to muster up some enthusiasm. "Come on inside." - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - ASTRID POV - I only woke up when Daddy was carrying me inside, and I was annoyed that they hadn't woken me up before they got there. Duckie was there and it was still a surprise to see her pregnant, even though I'd already figured it out. I gave her a big hug - she looked like she needed it - and then Graham was there and I gave him a hug too because he looked a little left out and he always got kinda angry when Duckie left him out. I couldn't see Ebony anywhere but I guessed maybe she was asleep in bed cos it was so late, almost morning. Most of the lights in the house and the car were on and everything just seemed really bright, a whole big blur as we took all our luggage inside and Duckie showed us our rooms and our bathroom - which was good cos by then I really needed to go. We were all getting kinda hungry too and Duckie had some food, just leftovers and stuff, and we sat eating it in the lounge room. I sat on Daddy's lap on a funny high-backed leather armchair that spun around on its base, listening as Mom and Dad told Duckie and Grae about the flight and everything. It sounded kinda forced, more polite than really friendly, and I hoped that everything would get more comfortable. I couldn't imagine staying here for very long if we were all going to be awkward. It was actually a cozy sort of room. The carpet was a funny dark shade of orange which was disgusting and almost nice at the same time. The ceiling was pretty, moulded with flowers and patterns. There was a big new TV in what I thought was maybe the fireplace. A newspaper was spread out on the carpet to read and the dark polished wood table had pencils and paints and paper and colouring books spread out on it. Ebony's stuff. Graham seemed to be the only one really comfortable in the room, in jeans and a faded Adidas sweatshirt and thick woollen socks, but I guess that made sense. I'd seen his mudcaked workboots sitting on the back steps. He had big feet. Maybe even bigger than Daddy's. Erin was still asleep and Josh was starting to fall asleep. Even Mommy and Daddy and Graham looked sleepy. Mommy had packed the collapsible playpen but it turned out that Duckie had a crib for Erin to sleep in anyhow. It was brand new - bought for Duckie's baby. That was a funny thought. Josh and Erin and I were sleeping in the closed in verandah, which was just like a long, l-shaped bedroom. There were two beds as well as the crib; one of them was a double and was right against the window. I jumped up onto it and lifted the blinds. I could see the road outside and as a big truck came along the blinds rattled. It was kinda noisy and I wondered if it'd wake me up in the middle of the night but I didn't really mind. I hadn't ever slept in a double-bed all by myself before. Josh's bed was only a single but there was a window in the wall beside it that went through to Mommy and Daddy's room - it had once been the window looking outside, I figured. Josh and I crawled back and forth through it from Josh's bed to Mom and Dad's til they told us to stop, because the window slid up to open and might fall down on us. That, and they wanted to get to sleep. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - With all the curtains closed our room was very dark. Scully stood only a few feet away, her back to me as she changed into pajamas, and I could only see glimpses of bare skin in the dark. "Long day," I observed, squirming childishly in the bed, trying to get comfortable. After so many hours in planes and cars it was strange to finally be able to lie down. She sighed. I heard a rustle of fabric. "Very long." The floorboards creaked as she moved over to our suitcases, then as she came closer to the bed. It was the first privacy we'd had in days, I realised, feeling the urge to cherish her. "Come here, beautiful," I murmured as she drew back the covers. I heard her breathing change its pace, become a little faster, than slower. I reached out and slid my arm around her, wriggling closer until I felt her curved back against me. I nuzzled against her, finding her shoulder and resting my chin on it so I could kiss the side of her neck. I heard her exhale shakily. "I love you," I whispered. She didn't answer, only drew a breath just as shaky as the one she'd let go, and wrapped her hands over mine, running her thumb over the wedding band on my left hand. "Goodnight, Mulder," she whispered. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - Somebody was purring. It didn't really register for a while, and then irritable curiosity overcame me and I opened my eyes. The sun hit me in the face and I groaned, closed my eyes again and rolled over, burying my face in the pillow. I was jetlagged, miserable, and still in need of sleep. I felt lousy. I heard a plaintive meow and something rubbed against my side. I forced myself to open my eyes again and looked at the little long-legged, skinny kitten who looked at me inquisitively. It meowed again and I stared at it, my hair hanging down in front of my eyes. My face felt both dry and swollen, my body was aching and crying out for more sleep. "Go away," I muttered, closing my eyes and snuggling down. It was two or three hours later when I woke again, I judged from the sun coming through the curtains. The kitten was gone, I thought - then I felt a warm weight over my toes and discovered it curled up on the covers, over my feet, fast asleep. Mulder was still asleep beside me but I eased myself up, climbing out of bed and checking the watch I'd discarded last night. It was almost midday. I slipped my robe on and made my way out of the bedroom, stopping in the bathroom next door to check my appearance. I didn't look as bad as I felt; my face was a little swollen, I thought, and I was a little pale, my hair was wild. I brushed it down, washed my face, and only when I was feeling more presentable did I go in search of the others. In the back hallway there was an old-fashioned red settee covered with a couple of brilliantly coloured blankets, a pink pillow and a new-looking stuffed toy I identified, after a few moments, as a platypus. Was that where Ebony had slept? I hadn't noticed her last night, though this part of the hallway had been in darkness. Jacqui had assured us that there was enough beds for everyone... I didn't want to feel we were putting them out. Ebony and Graham were nowhere to be found, but Jacqui, Astrid and Erin were in the kitchen. Jacqui was dressed, the kids still in pajamas. "Morning, Dana," Jacqui greeted, pouring orange juice in Erin's cup and firmly fixing the no-spills top on. Erin, in a new-looking high-chair, grasped the cup and banged it on the table zealously. It fell from her hands. Astrid caught it, handing it back to her little sister with a severe look. "*Erin*! Don't do that." Everything was under control, I thought. I might as well go back to bed. Aloud I said, "Morning." I took a seat at the kitchen table. Gathered in the centre of the table there were several boxes of cereal, a pile of breakfast bowls and spoons, an opened carton of milk, and a jug of orange juice. "Hope you weren't expecting a continental breakfast." "It's fine," I told Jacqueline, noting that somebody had already fed Erin some cereal and milk. Had it been Astrid or Jacqui, I wondered, feeling jealous. I wished very suddenly that we hadn't come. How could I have possibly thought this would make things easier? I passed on the cereal and had some toast and coffee. Astrid left the table and took Erin with her, and although Jacqueline was talking non-stop, telling me all the places she'd have to take us, it felt like an almost unbearable silence. Maybe I was just really tired, really jetlagged, but I didn't want to be around her. I felt stifled. I excused myself and went to have a shower. In our bedroom Mulder was still in bed but awake, watching as I dressed. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Nothing." Easy answer. "Scully.." I glanced at him, then looked away again. Lately voicing our problems had just made things worse. "Just jetlag." "Jetlag and pain and regret and -" I interrupted his darkly murmured musings. "Okay, so we both feel lousy." He was hardly making things any easier. He patted the bed beside him and I moved closer mutely, sitting on the edge. He drew himself upright and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, hugging me against him, his chin digging into my upper back. "I need you close to me right now," he whispered quietly, a sort of broken plea, lacking intensity. "I need you to keep me on track." "I'm trying," I answered, exhausted by the thought, feeling like Judas with the knowledge in my heart that I wanted anything *but* to be close to him right then. "You're not making it very easy for me." "I'm sorry." He kissed my neck, nudging my shirt down to kiss along my shoulders. I twisted around to face him, letting him kiss my face but not responding. That required energy and committment I wasn't ready to give. He pulled back, looking at me with a disappointed sort of understanding. "I'm sorry," I told him quietly. He shook his head, drawing away and leaving to go have a shower. I sat on the unmade bed and listened to the shower run, my head in my hands. I didn't know how I was going to face the world, where to even start trying to work the whole mess out. I didn't know how much it was even in my control. The shower had stopped and I went into the bathroom, not knocking but just entering. Mulder was standing in jeans, barechested, shaving. He gazed across at me, then turned back to the mirror, watching me in it as he continued. There was a chair in the corner and I pushed aside Mulder's clothes to sit on it, just watching him. "Is this payback for the other evening?" he asked after a few minutes, pausing as he awaited my answer. For the other evening? For him watching me teach Astrid how to shave, was that what he meant? I hadn't even thought of that. "Just remembering the first time I watched you," I said honestly. The first distinct memory, that was; when we had first brought Jacqui and Astrid and Josh back to my apartment. Doubtless there had been times before that, but I hadn't been able to relish them like I did that memory, the closeness of the week surrounding it. So much love, it had been overwhelming. Oh God... I flew at him, pressing my face against his chest, wrapping my arms around him, feeling such immense grief and pain. The tears came in a surge - real, loud tears that I hadn't been able to shed, needing to be the strong one for Mulder's sake. There was no time to even try and hold them back. "Oh, Scully..." Mulder seemed stunned - for several seconds he just stood there. Then, dropping the razor in the basin, he slowly put his arms around me, rubbing my back. "Oh, Scully..." he repeated, sounding heartbroken. I kept sobbing. Irrational, I knew, but I couldn't stop myself. I wasn't even sure why I was crying. For Samantha's death? For my pain, for Mulder's pain, for the kids' pain? For the mess we'd made of the last case, for what might have happened? For the confusion and barriers? I hugged him tightly, sobbing, and Mulder just held me. Still, somehow, it was a breakthrough, the tearing down of a barrier that had been blocking our progress, any chance we had of healing. "I still love you," I whispered, because it had to be said, because I'd put doubt in his mind. "I still love you so, so much..." "I know, precious," he promised. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - JACQUELINE POV - When Dana and Fox finally showed they were together, arms around each other as if needing support, frail. They kept whispering to each other, shooting each other looks filled with private meaning. I took them and the kids for a quick tour of the place - it looked different in the daylight, I knew; they looked at everything as if for the first time. Josh and Astrid were keen to look around, kept wanting to touch things, feed the chooks, pat the cow. Erin seemed fascinated by the animals. She'd spent hours earlier in the morning chasing the kittens over the house, grabbing tufts of fur. Astrid had been continually trying to show her how to pat them - "*Gently*, princess. You've gotta be nice to the kitty." Ebony followed close to me, lurking around me almost possessively, which surprised me. She was protecting her play areas, too - she'd run ahead and be standing in front of her trees or the vegie garden or the chook pen before we reached there as if warding us off, warning us to keep away. She was more territorial than Milo, and certainly not as friendly. I didn't know what to do about that. She even seemed to be wary even of Josh, ignoring him as she did everybody but Grae and I. We all went down to the bottom paddock and Fox and Dana climbed to the roof of the cowshed, sitting there side by side and watching as I showed Astrid and Josh the cow. Astrid wouldn't let Erin touch the cow - apparently Erin had a habit of licking her hands after everything she touched. A born investigator. I tried to inconspicuously keep an eye on Fox and Dana as they sat up there by themselves. They had seemed miserable and uptight last night and now they looked relaxed, at least, if not entirely happy. They looked comfortable enough with each other, too, her head against his shoulder, his arm around her, her hand on his leg. Maybe things wouldn't be so awkward with all of us, after all. end pt 7 The Genesis Project VII (8/14) by aRcaDIaNFall$ - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - "They were hers first." Scully broke the silence, staring down morosely at the kids with Jacqui. Ebony had climbed on a rough wooden fence and also sat there staring at them. Jacqui kept glancing at her, then at us, all the time trying to answer the kids' questions. "She was their mother, before I was." "They're ours, now," I argued gently. "They always will be." She sighed. "There's still a part of me who's jealous every time I see her with them." "Don't you think she feels the same way?" I pointed out. Another sigh. She burrowed more against me. "Yeah, I guess so." There was quite a breeze and I felt a little chilly. Scully shivered and I held her tighter. I think at that moment that was what we needed most - to be held and to hold. Security was of the essence. After a while we went back up to the house for some lunch. The kids played some basketball, though the hoop was too high up for both of them and I ended up having to help them, holding them up to slam dunk. Jacqueline wasn't as overbearing a hostess as most - and I think that the fact that Graham had gone to work and was out of the picture for a couple of days made things easier for all of us. Jacqueline showed us where everything in the kitchen was, told us to feel free to grab whatever, whenever we were hungry. The minimarket was just across the road if we needed anything extra. "My house is your house!" she announced, adding with an odd smile, "Til Grae comes back, anyhow." Jacqueline disappeared for several hours in the afternoon - 'catnap', she announced cryptically - which gave us run of the place. The kids had dozens of things they wanted to do, games they wanted to play. Mindful of both Jacqui and Erin sleeping I opted for one of the quieter games ; we played baseball on the back lawn with a cricket bat. Ebony sat by herself on the verandah, and no cajoling by Scully or Josh would induce her to play. Jacqui woke up and early evening we all headed down to the river. It was only a ten minute walk and Jacqui had a surprising amount of energy - thanks to the catnap, I guessed. The river was maybe twenty feet wide, shallow at the edges and gradually deepening. The grassy slope led onto several feet of rocky 'beach', stones and pebbles which the kids started skimming. It wasn't, I thought, a noteworthy spot, but with the sun starting to set and the green filmy branches overhanging, it was surprisingly attractive. And not another human being in sight. Jacqueline and Scully and I sat, but conversation was at a bare minimum and I thought maybe they wanted me out of the way. I went to see what the kids were up to, taking Erin with me. They were at the edge of the water, Josh and Astrid crouching together at one point searching for larger stones, Ebony a few yards away on an overhanging grassed area, staring down into the water. Was she watching for fish, I wondered. Jacqueline had said that Graham liked to fish here. I crouched beside Astrid, letting Erin to the ground but keeping a grip on her overalls to stop her straying too far. "What are you doing?" "Making stepping stones," Astrid answered promptly. "So we can walk right out into the middle, maybe even go all the way across." "I don't think you'll have time for that," I told her gently. "Not today, anyway. It's almost dark." "Can we come back tomorrow?" "We'll see, huh?" A famous parenthood response. We stayed for another twenty minutes or so, then it was getting cold and dark so we headed back. The old mutt came galloping toward us, meeting us half-way down the street. Jacqui patted him on the head and Ebony kneeled, letting him lick her face. It had been lying half-asleep in its kennel all day and we'd all kept clear, aware of the possessiveness Ebony had of the creature. It had seemed to barely move, not even wag its tale except when Ebony patted it. Now it was alive with energy. "He wants his dinner," Jacqueline explained. "That's Ebony's job." Back at the house we watched as Ebony dished out kitten formula and dry food and fishy-smelling tinned casserole. The two kittens kept rubbing against her legs contentedly, purring. Ebony was, I thought, singing softly, not any recognisable words but just a humming. Balancing three bowls, she made her way out of the kitchen onto the verandah just inside the back door. The two cats and the dog followed her. Pied Piper. "She sings, every night," Jacqueline mused. "Only then, to the kittens and Milo." What had happened to that little girl? She was one of Samantha's children, I thought suddenly. In a way she was more symbolic of Samantha than Astrid was. Was there any way I could help Ebony? I felt a sudden desperate need to do so, to save her from what I had been able to save my sister from, her mother. Ebony, who I had in the past been able to brush from my mind, suddenly became an issue. If I could save her, then in some way I was atoning for what had happened to Sam. In some way I could be absolved of guilt, freed of my burden. I could leave the demons behind for once and for good. I had to try. There was always a chance. These is always hope for a perfect world. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - I hadn't seen the kids so energetic in months. They were giggling, gleeful, chasing each other around the room, telling jokes, speaking to each other in rhyme, behaving childishly, dancing Erin around the room. It was such a change from their behaviour of late. When had they started acting so grown up? It had been so gradual, a few less giggles, a few less beaming smiles. Like us, they had been slowly burning out. But, unlike us, already they seemed re-energised, radiating strength and enthusiasm. Mulder was sitting at the table with Ebony, talking to her quietly as she coloured, and I left him there to supervise the kids as Jacqueline and I went for a walk outside. It was chilly and I hugged my coat close. Jacqueline had a blanket draped around her shoulders and it hung around her like a poncho as she sat, Indian-style, on a white wrought iron garden bench. I sat beside her. There had been some reason she wanted to talk to me alone. "So, what's going on?" She gazed around her, considering. "What do you think of the place?" "The house, the city of the country?" She smiled. "The house, specifically." I stared around me. The house glowed warmly, the stars were bright, the place smelt earthy. "I can understand why you like it here," I said slowly. For Jacqueline who had never had a real home, never had family, this was her chance. "It's the childhood I never had," she agreed, wistful. "The childhood you'll remember forever. This is my chance to be innocent again. Everything is simple." "What about Graham?" "I never told you how we first met, did I?" I shook my head. He'd been a large part of her life by the time we first heard of him, since then a constant presence. I watched curiously as she drew the blanket back to cup her hands over her stomach. "I went to the dentists. Some place somebody or other had recommended me to. I took a medical research journal along - I don't remember what it was, just some small obscure thing I picked up at work - and I was reading up about electronic stimulation of dead brain tissue in order to harvest cells for use in bio-tech AI trials. Anyway, I left it out in the waiting room when I went into my appointment, and then when I came out again this guy I'd never seen before was sitting there, holding it. I hadn't finished reading the article and I wanted my magazine back, so I asked him for it, and as he handed it over he remarked that it was so obscure, he hadn't thought anybody would read it. I asked him if he had, and he said yes - he'd written it. He then introduced himself as Professor Graham Bell." "And you were properly smitten?" I teased, though I still felt distant. It was strange to only now be hearing this story. "I was excited," she admitted. "It was a fascinating article. He wrote brilliantly. I told him of my interest in the field and he asked me out to lunch, told me only a tenth of what he knew about that specifically had gone into the article and offered to fill me in on the rest. Pickup line with a difference, huh?" I smiled, still not sure if I were entirely comfortable with Jacqueline. She'd changed, matured a little, but whether that was a good thing or not I wasn't certain. "So you went to lunch with him?" She shook her head, smiling wryly. "Nope. I'd just had fillings - I wasn't allowed to eat for another forty minutes. And he had just been called for his appointment. So he suggested dinner, which sounded far more date-like. That freaked me out a bit, actually. But I remembered you telling me I had to get a life -" "I didn't say that!" I protested, even though I'd heard the humour in her voice. "- And so I said sure, as long as we didn't go for steak. My teeth were hurting." "So you had dinner with him." "Dinner, then dinner the next night, then he invited me to drop into his lab. Then I invited him over to my lab. It was a 'I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours' sort of arrangement." She grinned. "Sounds pretty full on," I observed. "Compared to you and Fox, you mean?" She gave me a knowing smile. "But it's not like we were sleeping together from the beginning. Grae wanted to, I think, but I held off til I was ready." "Were you really? You were only, what, eighteen?" "Nineteen. But I was ready," she said defensively. I wondered why it was such a touchy issue. The defensiveness worried me. "How old are you now?" I asked suddenly. "Nearly twenty-one. By most people's standards I've barely lived. But hey, what do most people know?" There was definite bitterness in her voice. She wasn't a happy camper. "What's wrong, Jacqui?" I asked gently. "Why are you so unhappy?" "I'm not." Her answer came too quickly. She jolted suddenly, her hands going to her stomach. The blanket slipped back. "Ooh, the baby kicked." She grabbed my hand and put it to her stomach. "Can you feel her?" I felt a slight flutter under my palm. *Her*? "It's a girl?" "I don't know yet. We're keeping it a surprise. But I think it's a her." I retracted my hand, then reached to draw the blanket back up over her shoulders. I felt her awkwardness at the silence, the shared knowledge that the baby's kicking had been only a brief reprieve. "Whatever's wrong, Jacqui, now's the time to tell me, while we're face to face." She shook her head, turning away. "It's nothing that I can *voice*... it's just... everything." She turned back and I could see tears in her eyes. "I missed you guys and I thought maybe with you over here everything would be okay again, but you've changed, or I've changed, and now there's this *barrier* that's -" I hushed her, drawing her against me in a hug as she began to cry. I was getting far too much practice at this lately, I thought morosely. I was always giving or getting hugs, always dealing with another's tears or trying to ward off my own. Even now, in trying to escape it all... I patted her back, drawing away. "Let's go inside, huh? It's cold." She nodded. "You go in. I need a minute." I hesitated for a moment, watching as she swiped at her eyes, but then I obeyed, slowly making my way back up to the house. I could hear Astrid shrieking - Mulder was tickling her, maybe. I felt as if my life could be symbolised in that one moment, the darkness and tears on one side, laughter and light on the other. And me simply between, richocheting back and forth, my life an inescapable see-saw. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - "Daddy, if there was another war, would you expect me to go fight?" I stared at Josh's earnest, solemn frown. His questions always panicked me. Never simply 'Why is the sky blue?' or even the traditional 'How are babies made?' but deeply intelligent, painfully challenging questions I was often loathe to answer less I give an incorrect response. The last question, one which had left me pondering, had been awkward: "Have you ever felt God's grace?" That had been a difficult one. This one was near-impossible to answer in a completely different way. "I guess it would depend, kiddo," I answered evasively. "On what?" "Whether you were willing to go fight. The size of the war, who was being fought, the danger." "If there was another war now, would you fight in it?" I glanced past Josh to where Astrid sat on the floor with Erin, trying to teach her with flashcards. Absolutely not. "I don't know." "Your work... is like a war, isn't it?" "In a way. It's a different sort of war. Not so much marching." "What if I wanted to fight in your war?" he persisted. "Believe me," I said with feeling. "You don't want to get involved in my war, kiddo." He frowned. "What if I don't have a choice?" "Fate?" He shrugged. "I'm not sure." What went on his mind? How did a six year old think so deeply? There was something more at work, I felt, but I didn't know what. I don't think I understood it any more than Josh did. "You written any poetry lately?" I asked suddenly. It seemed to be the only real window into his mind. He hesitated, then shook his head. In other words: yes, but I won't let you read it. I nodded, understanding. "Okay." Scully came through the back door, dropping off her coat and shivering. "It's freezing out there." I stood, going through the kitchen to meet her. "Where's Jacqueline?" "She just needed a second." My eyes strayed passed her and I picked up a silver photoframe from the mantle over the unused kitchen fireplace. It had been taken at Jacqueline's wedding - Jacqui and Graham, Scully and I, Astrid, Josh and Ebony. I noticed curiously that Graham and I stood the same way, our arms curled around our respective wives' from behind, chin on their left shoulders. What did that mean? Or was I being ridiculous, reading into it? "You scrubbed up well," Scully remarked playfully, referring to the tux. She tugged at the sweater I was wearing, hugging me from behind, rubbing my arms. God, I loved her, I thought suddenly. My hands closed over hers; quite tightly, I realised, feeling her hands tense, clawlike for a moment. Had she somehow sensed my overwhelming, almost suffocating need for her, my desperate ownership of her? "Mulder..." she whispered, sounding almost unhappy. Why was she unhappy? I turned to face her and found her frowning. I kissed her, but the frown remained. "Scully?" I wondered. She patted my upper arm, brow still furrowed, face shadowed. "We should start going through Jacqueline's paperwork." I felt my spirit slump. I didn't want to think about Samantha, not now, maybe not ever. Why bother? What gain was there, now? "You start without me." "Mulder -" "Just -" I cut myself off, frightened by the harsh anger in my own voice. I exhaled, trying to be gentle. "Start without me." - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - JACQUELINE POV - Dana and I sat at the back table, sorting through all the papers I'd collected and notes I'd made. We worked silently, only speaking to point something out or verify a fact. I felt awkward with the silence. I wanted to know what she was thinking but it wasn't easy to tell. In fact, since they'd been over here I'd been able to catch very little of their real thoughts. Once I'd been able to read them like a book - even at the very beginning, first meeting them. What had changed that? We could hear Fox in the kitchen and Dana excused herself. Although she lowered her tone to speak to him, I still caught most of their conversation. "You need to be here for this, Mulder. You need to deal with it, somehow." "Scully, if it's over, it's over. No amount of paper pushing is going to change that." "Is this so that you don't have to completely give up hope? Is that the plan here, Mulder? If you don't see the proof you don't have to believe it?" "I *have* seen the proof. I held those PCR's in my hand. That's all the proof I need. It's over." "Not yet. Just come sit with us, at least. For me." I felt only a little guilty for listening in - after all, guilt was all relative, and I felt it so enormously over what I'd done to him and Dana and the kids that eavesdropping seemed no sin at all. Nevertheless, the pain and frustration in his voice worried me. I had no trouble reading it in his face, either, as he followed Dana in and sat beside her, hands folded on the table in front, eyes on the papers. "All right, show me what you've got." That was supposed to come out casual and offhand, I thought, but it didn't. Dana and I had already sorted through the most important documents and she lay them in front of him, going through them page by page like a lawyer explaining legal terms to a client. I half expected her to start pointing to the pages and say 'sign here'. Fox listened quietly, absorbing it all, flickers of emotion frequently crossing his face. I knew what he was thinking now, as clearly as if he'd spoken the words aloud. Twenty years she was so close and he never found her. Twenty years of searching the skies, years of throwing himself and Dana into perilous situation after perilous situation, and the whole time she'd been only a two hour plane ride away. He stopped reading, pushed the papers away from him, and I spoke up, trying in some way to help, "The Samantha you grew up with, that little girl, she was gone, Fox. When they returned her she was Cate; she was different. She wasn't the little girl you knew." He looked up at me, and the anger in his eyes was unwavering. "She was still my sister." "No, she wasn't," I said gently. He kicked back his chair and began to pace, hand to his head. "You don't *know* that! You never knew her as a kid. I'm the only one who would have known, and you took away any chance I ever had of seeing her again!" His anger was different to Grae's, more deeply intense, though equally explosive. And while I could usually refrain from letting Grae's anger provoke me, there was something about Fox's - that it felt like an unfair accusation against me, a personal insult on an entirely different level - that made me yell back. "If I hadn't shot my parents, you would never have known we existed! You would have never gotten Astrid or Josh or even Erin! Think about that for a second!" That shut him up. He stared at me, loathing me, hating me not just for my part in Cate's death but for everything he had suffered, all his pain about Samantha. "He doesn't really hold you responsible," Dana said softly, watching as Fox stormed out. "He's just looking for somebody to blame, just to get him through the pain. He knows it's not really your fault." That was meant to be reassurance, but watching her follow him out I didn't feel remotely reassured. I felt tired and nauseous and terrible. I wished Grae was here. Oh, the irony. "Duckie?" Josh stood in the doorway in pajamas, looking troubled. Had he heard all that? Undoubtedly. You heard everything in this house. "C'mere, Joshie. Big sis needs a hug." He came forward, climbing cautiously up onto my lap. How could a six year old still be so tiny? He weighed next-to-nothing. "Daddy does things he doesn't mean when he's upset," he said quietly, sliding his arms around me to rest his head against my stomach. I remembered seeing he and Astrid doing the same to Dana when she was pregnant. "Try not to let them hurt you. He doesn't really hate you." "I think he does," I disagreed with certainty. "He doesn't," Josh insisted. "He's just confused. You're more like Samantha to him than Cate ever was." "Is that why he resents me?" I wondered aloud. I hadn't even considered that before. Was *that* why he was always picking fights with me, often childish fights? "He's just confused," Josh repeated. "Give him some time." - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - ASTRID POV - "No, you *don't* understand, Scully!! You haven't -" "I *have*. I've lost a sister too, you know. I know exactly how you feel." "This is different. This has been my life!" "Damnit Mulder! This has been your life because you chose that. I could have chosen to spend my life hunting down Missy's killers-" "This is *different*. Missing is different to dead. With missing there's hope. I never gave up that hope that I'd find her, Scully. You know that!" "I know that, Mulder." Mommy's voice was all tight and tired, as if she was trying not to get mad at Daddy or cry. "But look around at what you've got." They didn't realise that the window between their bedroom and ours was open. It wasn't open much, and we probably would have been able to hear anyway, but I still wished the window was closed or that we were elsewhere. "Joshie?" I whispered. He was sitting at the old desk, writing something, scribbling madly. "Joshie!" I whispered again. "What are you writing about?" I moved closer to the desk, trying to see, but he closed the book. "I hate it when they fight," he answered quietly, staring down at the cover of the diary. "Me too," I agreed with feeling. I knew how deeply Josh felt that but didn't understand how he could be so contained about it. Sure, Joshie's always been good at keeping feelings in, but *still*... "I hate *them* when they fight," I added, angry. I loved them so much but hated them too because it was so unfair, we were just being forgotten and pushed aside. They just weren't even thinking about us. "You don't," Joshie corrected me knowingly. "Yes I do," I retorted. He looked up at me for the first time. "Mommy's coming." - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - SCULLY POV - Astrid was pretending to be asleep. I ignored her for the moment, sitting on the edge of her bed so that I could talk to Josh. He sat at the desk, blowing idly on a dusty old lamp. "It's late, sweetie," I said gently. "Time for bed." He drew the desklamp closer, writing his initials in the dust. "Josh?" I pressed. "Not yet." There was a rare huskiness in his voice. He was holding back tears, upset and angry, too, I thought. I put my hand on his shoulder. "Sweetie -" He was trembling a little - I could feel that - and I could see the tears swimming in his eyes. But he shook his head. "I just need to finish something." My eyes went to the notebook on the desk, close to him. It was closed, capped pen lying beside it. "Writing?" Instinctively he reached to hug the notebook against him, protective of it. "Ten more minutes," I allowed. He nodded, and though I stood I found myself unable to move. I couldn't leave him just sitting there, couldn't leave the situation so unresolved, the pain held in, the truth unspoken. "I know all this is tough on you and Astrid as well as Daddy and I. We're trying, Josh, we're really trying, but -" "We hate it when you fight." "I can understand that. And I'm sorry. We don't mean to. It's just... it's hard being an adult, Josh. There's so many things to juggle." I gazed at him. His chin was quivering, his fists clenched. "I know that's not an excuse." A plump tear slipped down his cheek and landed on the desk. He wiped it away with his fist. "I'm so sorry, sweetie..." I dropped to my knees beside him, reaching up to touch his back. "We don't want you to get hurt in all of this. You know how much we care about you." Still no response. "Joshie? Come here." I tugged gently at his arm and he finally turned to look at me. Not resentful as Astrid would have been, just unhappy, grave, sorrowful. He slid off the chair and I drew him against me, feeling rather than hearing the sobs. How many people had I comforted today? I wondered wearily. I slipped my hands under him to pick him up, sitting on the edge of Astrid's bed with him in my lap. He seemed heavier than usual, a limp weight. I sighed heavily, feeling like lead myself, drained of energy or emotion. I couldn't go on like this. I wouldn't last unless it got better, and fast. But what if it didn't get any better? I felt arms close around my waist from behind, somebody press against my back, and for a brief second I thought maybe it was Mulder. But, while it was that same desperate, too-tight clawing grip, the hands were smaller. Astrid, clinging to me, began to cry loudly. I hugged her as best I could, feeling stretched to deal with the two of them, unable to come up with anything to stop the flood of tears. I'm drowning, I thought helplessly. Drowning in a sea of tears. Hopelessness washed over me and I hung my head, unable to hold it up any longer. There was nothing else to do. The three of us clung together, tired, angry and alone. When my own tears came I was too exhausted to notice. - - - - } - - - - } - - @ t h e x - f i l e s - MULDER POV - The next few days were interminable. Mood swings abounded, Josh was withdrawn, Astrid bounced back and forth between sunny smiles and tantrums over the smallest things, Jacqueline hovered a lot, as if waiting for resolution and absolution. We all tried to relate to Ebony but she was a selfish child, teritorial, like a deceptively passive bulldog guarding its possessions. I talked to her when I could, trying to make some sort of breakthrough, but it was useless. With her coldness and Astrid's angry assaults and Josh's secretive distance and Jacqueline's hurt anger I wanted to go to Scully, but she was short-tempered - PMS on top of everything else - and kept her distance as well. Surprisingly, it was Graham who forced us to all realign our perspectives. We'd been acting like children fighting, not trying to disguise our emotions, and with his return we had to start behaving like civil adults again. He arrived early afternoon on the Friday, our fourth night there. Jacqueline greeted him with a long hug but was quick to put on a smile when he asked how she was. Just after five Graham headed down to a corner of the yard with the kids and Erin to get the barbeque started. Scully had taken some Advil and went to lie down. Jacqueline and I were left alone together on the porch. We sat in silence for a few minutes. I felt her occasional quick glances but could think of nothing to say or do in response to them. Finally, Jacqueline broke the silence. "Yell at me." "What?" "Just yell at me. Get angry. But please don't keep quiet, Fox." "I don't want to yell at you," I argued gently. Searching inside, I couldn't find any anger at her. Anger was an intense emotion, and I lacked the energy for it. I felt only a dull unhappiness. Jacqueline considered it, eyeing me curiously. "What *do* you want?" I closed my eyes briefly, hanging my head. I want *Scully*, I thought suddenly. I want to have my arms around her, to have her kiss me, have her tell me what I mean to her, be able to tell her the same. Jacqui nudged me. "Go talk to her." Our bedroom window was open a little, the curtains flapping in the breeze, the fresh air filtering in, as well as a little of the remaining daylight. Despite that and the light coming through from the kids' room it was still dark and I could barely see Scully as she lay curled up on the covers. "You awake?" She stirred, rolling over to look at me sleepily. "Yeah." She grimaced, pressing the heel of one hand against her side, groaning softly. I sat down on the bed beside her, touching her arm lightly. "I thought you took some Advil." "I did." She groaned again, balling herself up, hugging herself. I could see the pain on her face. "You wanna take some more?" She shook her head. "I already took too many. See if Jacqueline's got anything stronger for me, huh?" "Sure." I caressed her hair briefly, glad that she was letting me, that she was needing me. Jacqueline was in the kitchen making a salad. She grimaced sympathetically but said no, she didn't have anything. "Run across the road to the chemists," she suggested. "They might still be open. Otherwise see what you can find in the supermarket. And while you're over there, can you get another loaf of bread and some tomatoes?" end part 8