From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: Sun, 1 Oct 2000 18:44:13 -0500 Subject: Getting Back (10-15)NC-17 by Lakota Source: direct Reply To: CorrineLS@socal.rr.com Disclaimer on Section 1 @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ I could see Omra sitting at the far end of the room, watching me, her face starting to show some kind of expression, an expression of sadness. I'm lying on an ice-cold table; four grays dressed in white medical clothing stand around it. They are unlike the ones on earth, different somehow, I can feel it. Nastro is among them. One of the shorter grays takes a syringe from the sterile tray, filling it with a clear liquid, measuring the amount with precision. I look at Nastro next to me, who is focusing on Omra watching from a distance, neither of them doing anything to stop the being holding the syringe. I imagine he is going to put the syringe in the IV drip but he doesn't. He takes my arm, which is strapped securely to the table and within seconds the cold fluid is going through my veins. I am panicking; I feel that the air is slowly being drawn from my lungs. I'm fighting it, but I can't, my eyes are closing into darkness. +++ Omra sits motionless in the corner, watching the medical doctors at work. She knows the reason for the surgery because Nastro has told her. It seems that Mulder's DNA is unlike most other human's. She remembers another young human, who also had the unique genetic makeup; a boy named Gibson. She wanted to stand close to her human friend; to touch him to reassure him, but moving would risk being sent out of the room. So, she waited patiently. It seemed like an eternity before Nastro finally turned to face her, bowing his head in acknowledgement. The surgery was finally coming to an end. Omra felt relieved the procedure had gone well, and sighed in pleasure, but her thoughts were interrupted when lights started flashing, monitor beeps blaring with piercing severity across the room. The medical technicians frantically went into emergency mode. The monitor that registered Mulder's heart rate displayed the change from the normal heart rate to a slower beep until it flat-lined. As Omra watched, stunned, Nastro pushed the gray away, quickly grabbing the defibrillator, the grays moving out as Nastro put the paddles against Mulder's chest. Mulder's body spontaneously jerked on the table when the jolt of electricity shot through his body, falling back limply onto the table. Nastro continued this action over and over until the feint beep of the monitors indicated Mulder's heart was working once again. Nastro's anger was obvious, as he abruptly communicated to the others to move while he finished the delicate operation. +++ Four months passed since Mulder's operation, a surgery that ended terribly. For four months, he lay still on his bed; dead to the world, to time, in a coma that was the cause of an error in judgement in an attempt to remove DNA from Mulder's brain cell. Nastro had been able to convince the higher-ups that it was important for Omra to take care of Mulder, to make sure he stayed alive. Omra stayed with him day and night, moving him every several hours to prevent bedsores, changing his IV, giving him baths, as well as constantly talking to him whether he heard or not. Omra hoped somewhere in her human friend's unconscious world, Mulder could hear the words and wanted to come back, his bond of love for Scully and their unborn child stronger then life or death. At times Omra would get her hopes up when Mulder showed signs of involuntary reflexes, mimicking conscious activities. She knew Mulder hated to be restrained, but there were times when she had no choice, the times where he would thrash in bed ripping the tubes and IV's. +++ My teeth are chattering, my skin shaking at the chilled feeling I am having right now. I feel my body damp with moisture, but yet I feel almost a calming sensation. My awareness is heightened at a soft gentle touch of a moist cloth stroking my legs, my thighs. I try to open my eyes, but they are heavy. I try to open my mouth, to speak, but my lips are dry and my mouth isn't cooperating. I concentrate until I can manage my eyes to open, just a little, blinking the bright lights, until I can open them completely. I see Omra, it looks like she is bathing me, moving the cloth with such tenderness. "Omra," I try to say, but the words aren't coming out. I try again to mouth the words, my dry lips cracking at the movement, "Omra." She still doesn't hear me. I want to get her attention, but my hands are strapped, unable to move. I slowly move my fingers and that slight movement hurts; I feel a stiffness. "Omra." She stops washing me, I think she hears me, "Omra" She turns at me, her black oblique eyes widening even more, a smile, I swear she smiled at me. "Fox!" She rushes to the head of the bed, stroking my face, moving my hair off of my face. "Hair, I have hair," my words are barely audible. I can hear her chuckle, yes, she is chuckling, "Yes Fox, you have hair." "But right before I fell asleep; I saw them shave my head bald, the doctors shaved my head." She looks at me silently for a long while, her smile fading away, "It has grown back, my son." She steps to the middle of the bed and starts untying the straps, taking a hold of my hands that don't want to move. She massages them, trying to get the blood to circulate. Then she steps down to the end of my bed and does the same to the straps that have my feet confined. She then takes each foot and gently massages them, bringing life back into them. "You must be cold, let me dry you. I was bathing you," she said, picking up a towel and rubbing it against my legs. I watch her gentle movements, puzzled over her hesitance at giving me answers. "Omra, I don't understand, what is going on? I was in surgery. I remember distinctly the beings shaving my head, then they injected me with something," I say, the words hard to distinguish. "I'm cold Omra, so cold" "Let me cover you, I must get you warm" she tells me, avoiding my questions. "What has happened, what have they done to me. I know I didn't dream them shaving my head," I'm insistent. She places a couple of blankets over me, then brings me a glass of water, lifting my head slightly to help me take a sip, "slowly, you must take small intakes of fluid." "Omra, I have to go to the bathroom," I tell her feeling my bladder ready to burst. "You are much too weak to stand up. You are connected to a catheter, just release your muscle control. It will take time to get your strength." "What do you mean it will take time, I close my eyes, dream that my head is shaven. I wake up barely able to speak, my body unable to move and connected to a damn hose to help me urinate, what the hell is going on?" my voice gets louder, cracking at some of the words. Omra turns away, almost trying to avoid my questions, but then stops, and turns back again, facing me. Her head bows, almost shameful at what she is about to tell me. "The surgery that was done on you was a success, in the eyes of my race, but something terribly wrong happened. Nastro has tried to explain it to me, but I am not of medical knowledge. Your heart stopped and after several tries, Nastro brought you back." I'm confused, my eyes furrowing at Omra's words that are not making any sense to me. "Brought me back from what?" "You died on the table, your heart stopped but Nastro was able to bring you back. This was four months ago." "What? What are you talking about, four months ago," my mind disarranged at what she has just told me. I can barely grasp the concept. "Fox, you have been in a coma for four months. That is why your hair has grown back. You have been in a deep sleep state all these months, as you call them in your human form. A small hole was drilled in your skull to reach your brain. A needle and syringe was used to reach the brain cavity. Once the brain cavity was invaded, cells were removed directly surrounding the part of the brain that was affected. This procedure was done because the doctors were trying to find the part of the brain and the DNA that we know makes you special, the 'active' DNA that all human forms have, but only a few have it activated. They wanted to extract some brain cells and analyze them, to figure out how we can make our race persevere." Omra explains in her monotone voice. "I have been by your side every moment. I have made sure that you were fed through your IV, I made sure you were clean by bathing you every day. I made sure you were turned often so as not to get sores on your form. I only put the restraints for moments at a time, as sometimes you moved violently and I was in fear of you hurting yourself." "Four months I've..." my voice cracks at the shock. "Scully, the baby, has..." "I do not believe that your loved one has had your child, not enough months have passed. I consulted a calendar and have kept up with the days as they have passed. It shows that in Earth time, it is around November, is that the correct word?" "November, my God, four months have passed, I've been in this place for 6 months" I state, my voice becoming strained with anger, my fists clenched in frustration. "Yes, I am afraid that is so," she tells me. "What day in November are we in, do you know?" I ask her anxiously. "It is the end of November. I have been studying human gestation and it appears that your offspring will be brought into existence around the end of December, that is the right word, correct?" I close my eyes and recall the memory of that evening where Scully and I were sitting on my couch; she telling me all about Daniel. All the years that had passed between us and all it took was a visit from her ex-boyfriend to bring us together; all that talk of fate. It was April, yes April 9th, how can I forget, April 9th when we conceived. "Fox, I am going to find Nastro, have him come and examine you. We must not let any of my race know that you have awaken." She tells me then worriedly asks, "Do you understand?" I nod and watch her turn and leave the room. I turn my head and notice the letter I started writing to Scully; a letter I started four months ago. It is on the small table next to my bed. I begin to outstretch my arm, to reach the paper and pencil, but my arm doesn't move. I can't move it at all. I try to sit up, but I can't do that either. My eyes fill with tears as I wonder whether they have left me paralyzed. Within a short time, both Omra and Nastro walk in, closing the doors behind them. "This is a most wonderful occurrence, you have waken up from your long sleep. I must examine you and see how you are," Nastro tells me, placing his medical satchel on the bed next to me. "I can't move my arm, my head..." I begin to tell him, but he ignores me and continues with his examination. He walks to the edge of the bed and pricks the bottom of my feet; I jerk them slightly. He smiles. "You have feeling on your feet, that is a good sign. Remember; you have been comatose for four long months. Your body has not had any form of movement. You will need to exercise your body parts, to get the muscles going again," he explains, moving to my thighs and slightly pricking them, and they twitch at the touch. He continues up my body, pricking my arms, and with each jab, a reflex occurs. "There does not seem to be any permanent damage. This cursory examination shows that you have feeling on your extremities. You will be fine. I will give Omra specific instructions for your rehabilitation. We must work hard, we need to get you up and around for our plan." "Why, for more tests?" "No, to help you escape. We have done an injustice to you and many Earth people; Omra has shown me this in the time you have been asleep. She has helped me see the cruelty we have done; not in the tests, but in taking humans away from their family." The doctor explains to me, still examining every part of me. I just look at him, thinking, wanting to ask. "You have a question for me?" he asks, stopping his ministrations. "You said I flat-lined. How did I come back? I looked around the operating room before...before they put me under and what I see is a lot of things that is used on Earth. Who taught whom?" I ask, curious. "Fox, Earth is such a juvenile planet. Do you not know that we have been around much longer then any living creature on your planet? How do you think your military has come up with its technology? Where do you think some of the cures have come from, from your illnesses and diseases that no longer show a threat to your human race? It is from us. So you see, Fox, we have brought many humans on Earth, but they have gone back with more knowledge then they had when they arrived." He stops talking to me long enough to check the IV drip and checks the catheter that is in me. "I hate that thing," I tell him, trying to lighten the conversation. I realize that if it wasn't for these two beings, I would have been dead long before-in fact four months ago, but I'm sure Omra caring for me has convinced her friend that maybe I'm worth saving. "I am sure you dislike it, but it was either this, or Omra changing the bedding every time you urinated," he teased. "Now, in the four months, I have taught Omra how to help you do an extensive regimen, to help you move the muscles that have not been moved in a long time. I have also taught her to remove the device from your body. But, this must be done when you are back on Earth. I'm sure she's told you why." I nod again in acknowledgement, in fact that's all I can move. "I will go and get some substance for you to eat. You must nourish yourself so we can get you up off the bed. Also, the faster you are able to move, you can have this taken off of you." He smiled, holding up the bag of urine. He left for a short while returning with a silver tray, a plate filled with food. Unfortunately, the food had not changed, still the gobbly-goop that was given to me before. "I told them it was for Omra and myself. They must not know you have waken." He tells me, the same thing that Omra had mentioned before. He lowers the tray on the table and walks out of the room, "I must leave, as they might wonder why I'm here so long. Omra, start moving his legs as soon as possible." With those last words, he departs. Omra approached the head of my bed, looking at me, her now constant smile on me, "Let's see if you are able to sit up. It will be easier for you to eat." "I don't know," I whisper, forcing the words as I try to rise up from the bed. My body starts shaking, beads of perspiration dropping down my forehead. That little movement tires me completely, "I can't." I am dead weight to her small body, but her strength surpassed mine. She realizes the frustration of my immobile state. "Do not worry; it will happen," she says to me, helping me lay back down, then starts spoon feeding me. Omra is patient as she waits for me to finish chewing my food; even my jaw in uncooperative. I finish, she cleans my mouth and then unhooks the bag of urine taking it to the bathroom, putting a clean bag back on. "Are you up to starting your rehabilitation?" she asks me. I am not sure what this little being has in store for me, but I can see that Nastro and Omra are determined in helping me leave this place. I smile in acknowledgement. She moves the blanket up to my thighs then positions herself at the foot of my bed. She takes my right foot, massaging my toes, my arches, my ankles, trying to get some circulation. She takes hold of my ankle and bends my leg at the knee, pushing my foot as close to my bottom as she could, then brings my leg back down. I feel a sharp pain through my leg as the muscles that have not moved in all these months are now moving. She ignores my groans and brings my leg back down to the bed, then does it again. I grip the sides of the bed with every pull and push of my leg. She does it about 10 times and then goes to my other leg to repeat the same procedure. She then moves to my arms and does the same thing, stretching my arm and then bending it at the elbow then raising it over my head, ten times in one arm and then ten times on the other. I watch this little being work hard, an intense stare on her face. "Omra, take it easy, you know, it does hurt." She ignores me and continues. After about an hour of exerted regimen she finally finishes. "I apologize for hurting you, but this must be done. We will do this again in a couple of hours. While you were comatose, Nastro taught me many things for your survival. I did this regimen often, but I must admit that I was getting discouraged. We have your escape well mapped out and when you are able, we will proceed. You must try very hard to get well soon, as our next journey to Earth will be in 4 days." Getting Back - (11-15) Disclaimer on Section 1 @~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@ "Four days?" I ask her, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I suddenly realize that I may be going home. "Yes. This is the time we have decided to help you escape." She moves to the corner of the room; bending down, stretching her long arm behind the small cabinet to pull out a satchel. She approaches me, placing it on the bed, opening it up. "Nastro has brought me all the equipment that I need to remove the tracking device. Although I am not a medical technician, he has instructed me on the procedure," she says, pulling out a long silver cylinder rod. "Omra, please don't tell me that thing is going in me, and if so, just where are you planning on sticking it in?" my face paling at the thought. "You pick one," she teases. "How about none," I adamantly respond. "Well, unfortunately it has to be one, and it's not the cavity that you intake your substance." I twitch uncomfortably, my stomach clenching and fluttering, thinking about how many times I've been probed and jabbed. She returns the rod back in and walks it back to it's hiding place. "What if I am still not ambulatory in four days?" I ask her. "This is not open for discussion. It is a must that we move you that day. If you are not ambulate, you will have to stay in this spaceship for a very long time. Our next scheduled trip to Earth will not be for another year, that is 12 months, correct?" That last bit of information has worried me, especially as parts of my body still feel numb. Within the hour Omra is back again, never showing any bit of exhaustion, her mission at hand, helping me get my health back. "Omra, what if I didn't wake up from my coma in four days, would I have stayed here for another year?" I ask her. "No, Nastro and I were going to remove you somehow from the ship. We had plans for that as well. It would have been very dangerous and if caught, we would all be exterminated. So we are very grateful that you have awaken. Now concentrate in each movement," she tells me, pushing my legs back and forth, massaging them. I'm too excited to go to sleep. How can I be sleepy after four months of hibernation? After 24 hours of on-and-off-therapy, I'm able to move my arms slightly, but at least I'm able to scratch my nose. "Omra, can you hand me the letter I started four months ago?" She stops her massages and gives me the pad of paper and pencil. I glance at the material I had written and it saddens me to think that so much time has passed. But somehow the news that Omra has a plan to release me has given me hope. I get the notepad and begin to write: 'Scully, I have been in a coma-state for four months, a total of six months away from you. The fact that I have missed most of your pregnancy and have not had the opportunity to watch your stomach blossom is tormenting me. I wish I were with you. I was completely disabled when I woke up, but with the complete persistence of my alien friend, she says that I will be able to see you in less then a week. I am trying very hard to get my strength back because if I don't succeed, I am afraid that I will never see you again. My eidetic mind remembers the words you told me last year, let me paraphrase them here for you. ' You're not suppose to die, not here!' Then you told me something I have never forgotten, '...you must get up. You must get up and fight. You...most of all. This is not your place, get up Mulder, fight your fight' I am fighting Scully, I will give it all I can to be with you in less then a week.' I put the pencil down, my stomach churning with excitement and also the danger that will befall us if we make an error in judgement. I pull the covers off of my body and try to move my legs. Although still feeling stiff, I can move them. I hold the bag full of urine and slide myself to the border of the bed, swinging my legs slowly, over the edge. I stand up slowly gripping on to the mattress so as not to lose my balance. My legs wobble at my weight and I feel a tinge of nausea. 'This is not a good idea,' I say out loud. "What the..." Omra shouts, as she appears from the bathroom. I jump at her shrieking voice and drop the bag of urine onto the floor. "I liked it better when I couldn't hear you, when you didn't have a voice...you startled me." say loudly looking down at the puddle on the floor. "You could have waited for me to help you. Now who is going to clean that mess on the floor?" she asks angrily, going back into the bathroom. She returns in seconds with a wet cloth "You could have also ripped the catheter out of you." With those last words, I cringe at the thought of the extra pain I would have had. "And where were you planning on going?" she asks, bending down to clean up the urine off the floor. I feel bad that I have created a new mess for her to deal with. "To the bathroom to..." then I realize the brainless idea I had. 'How could I pee with this thing in me, "You made your point, now what?" I ask, urine dripping down my leg and onto the floor. She gets off the floor and walks back to the bathroom to dispose of the cloth, returning quickly. "Don't move, I'm going to get Nastro." "I think that's a great idea, I'll just stand right here." I see her stomp out of the room, visualizing the fumes coming out of those tiny little slit she has for ears, ready to kill me for my stubbornness. I think the best thing I could do right now is just be as still as I can and wait for the repercussion I am about to have from Nastro. The door opens to my room, Nastro and Omra enter together and walk toward me, Nastro has his hands pressed against his small waist, I gather he is not in a good mood. "You are very incorrigible, what if you would have fallen and damaged yourself more. We have a timetable here to follow." With those words, he forces me back to bed and with brute force, he pulls the catheter out from within me, a cold chilled pain is filled through my body. I try to hold my breath so I won't let out a scream. "There goes the gold star I was going to give you on your great bedside manner," I say through clench teeth. I know I have to keep quiet; I can't let anyone know on the ship I've come out of my coma. "I guess I had this coming to me, sorry," is all I could say through my gasps. "I should make you finish cleaning your mess," Nastro snorts angrily. "You are disrupting our carefully prepared escape plans by your foolish actions. Now that you are free of the catheter, let me help you to the bathroom. Omra and Nastro take a hold of my arm on each side of me. I take each step slowly until I reach the bathroom. "Can I take a shower?" I ask them both. They both look at me and seem to agree. Omra walks to the shower, then turns on the water, adjusting it to how I like it. "You need to be careful that you do not fall. You must make it quick before you tire." Nastro instructs. I step in the shower holding onto the wall for support. I let the spray of the showerhead hit against my body. It feels so good to feel clean, but at the same time the water weakens me. I feel the blood rush down and I feel faint. "Help!" is all I could yelp as I slip to the floor. The two beings open the curtain; helping me out of the shower, toweling me down and helping me walk back to the bed. "You will not pull this stunt again," Nasto says with anger. "Not to worry, I'll never do that again," I tell them, my eyes closing with exhaustion. "Now, is it possible for me to take a nap?" Two days pass rapidly and my therapy is not going as quickly as I would like it to be. I could feel the two grays are nervous at what they are planning on doing but they don't confide in me what those plans are. Today, the day before the attempt escape, the two are coming in and out of my room, both sitting at the far end discussing and planning. Nastro takes the satchel that Omra had shown me earlier, the one that contained the equipment to remove the device. Omra is very attentive at all Nastro is telling her, watching him holding the rod in his hand. Every once in awhile they turn to look at me and then go back to their conversations. At times I feel they are disagreeing with something; almost upset with each other, or maybe it's a worried look. I turn my head, facing the small table and see my letter to Scully, and all I can think about now is that this plan has to work. I have lost track of day or night; I rely on my body sensing that it must be time to rest. I then close my eyes, hoping to restore any energy that I might have in me for my breakout. + + + "I don't know, Omra, I cannot let you do this on your own. What if you are unable to return to the ship? And if you are able, what will you say about the missing prisoner?" Nastro communicates to Omra telepathically so Mulder will not hear their conversation. "You know I must do this. If they take my life form, then it must be, but I will not go back on my word. I have discussed this with you many times now," Omra replies, looking at Mulder, then back to Nastro. "He is asleep now, that is good, he needs his rest." Nastro turns his head toward Mulder, then back to Omra, "Then, I will go with you, to make sure you will be alright and that you will come back to me. I cannot bear to be without you. You have taught me so much in these last months." "No, I cannot let you do that. If they have any idea that you are with me on this, they will truly destroy you. You have much at stake here." "To do what? To give torturous tests to these humans that we take away from the security of their homes and the warmth of loved ones. I would prefer to live like the humans do, in a world where the balance of life is not always tested, or feared." Nastro conveys to Omra, closing the metallic box. We have the plans now, there is nothing else we can do except wait for the appropriate time. It is best to do this when darkness is still upon us. I will come to you at that time and we will proceed." With those last words, Nastro stands up from the corner where they were checking the medical instruments and firearms if they were needed. "We will succeed...for him and for us." Omra watches her best friend walk out-she knows the fear that must be in him. She feels the same fear. When she had first thought of the escape, she had no one, she didn't care if her life was extinct, but now she views Nastro in a different light, and not coming back to him would be devastating. But she made a promise, and a promise is a promise. She stands up and walks over to where Mulder is sleeping. She pushes the lose strands of hair from his face. She moves the collar of his hospital gown and carefully picks up the gold cross that has never been taken off. She smiles, and then covers him up, walking to a nearby chair to rest, as the following day might be her last. + + + Space, darkness and time were a continuous motion, always ebony for them. Landing on Earth always brought the lightness of the day, but for the moment, it was the middle of the night when they chose to descend. The spacecraft silently hovered over the familiar trees of Oregon. Tall trees ferociously oscillating from the energy of the ship. A bright orange-red beam of light radiated the night sky. The ship wavered back and forth, hovering for a perfect moment to land. They would stay quiet, covering the ship with a protected force field until daybreak. At which time the mission at hand would be followed, more humans captured for their own survival. The door to Mulder's chamber's opens and Nastro dressed in military attire, walks in after taking one last glance at the hallway. He sees Omra nestled comfortably on the chair, close to Mulder's bed, one arm resting on Mulder's leg. Nastro quietly moves closer to Omra, gently placing his long-fingered hand over Omra's shoulder. He doesn't want to startle her, or wake Mulder up. They first needed to talk. Omra's stirred slightly at the touch, looking up at Nastro, then down at his garments. "Why do you have your military garb on?" she asks. "You are not to go alone. I will go with you, and if you don't make it back, we both will not come back. Now it's time to wake him up, this has to be done with exact precision." Omra's chest felt heavy, and she wondered why, since there was no such thing as emotions or feelings, but yet she was feeling them with more intensity. But stranger feelings had happened little by little, from years back when she was Samantha's guard and now with this young man that she knew suffered for much too long. She stood up from her comfortable position on the chair and with a tender touch she woke Mulder up. + + + "Is it time?" I ask Omra, my eyes heavy with sleep. "It is time, let me help you get up," she tells me as she clasps my arm with her fingers. I slowly move my stiffened legs over the edge of the bed. I look across the room and see Nastro with a shiny silver outfit that I've become accustomed to seeing on the military guards. "Why is he dressed like that?" I ask Omra softly. "He is going to help me get you out," she tells me. I can tell that this is not her choice, but she has accepted the decision. "Do not move, I do not want you to fall if you are still weak." She walks over to the metallic box and opens it up. She pulls something out of the box, but I'm unable to see as her back is toward me. She turns around and on her hands are my clothes, the same clothes that I had on that May day when I was taken. "I don't think it would be wise to run in this hospital gown. Scoot onto the floor and let me help you put your garments." She tells me, setting the clothes on the bed, then stretching her hand out to me to steady my shaking body. "My boxers, I can wear underwear again," I smile. "This 'flapping in the breeze' for six months was not my choice." I tease. I make light of the situation, knowing that in a short while, none of us could be alive, but I have to fight, as Scully said to me last year. Omra hands me my blue jeans and my black T-shirt and zipped up jacket. I put the clothing on the bed, taking the jeans first. I bend down to start putting them on and another wave of dizziness hits, 'this is not good' I think to myself, but I don't tell her. She is much too smart and sees the green tinge to my face. "Let me help you," she says as she takes the jeans and bends down, helping me put in one leg at a time. She pulls up my pants and I can see I've lost a lot of weight. "The gown might be more appropriate, as these might fall off if we have to run," I joke. I take the T-shirt and jacket and pull them on. Omra bends down, lifting each foot gently, sliding my socks over my feet and putting my tennis shoes on, 'I'm ready'. "I need to go to the bathroom," I tell them, walking slowly toward the bathroom, holding on to anything I can touch. I go in there for the last time, I hope, and take one last glance into the mirror. My face feels older, although I know six months doesn't change one's appearance that much, but I feel it. I have a couple days stubble on my face and my hair is shoulder-length. I could easily slip in to a Woodstock concert, oh yes, but Scully said I wasn't there. I take care of nature and wash my hands and face, then slowly turn and leave the room for my last time. I look at both of them and take a big sigh and say; "I'm ready." Getting Back - (12-15) Disclaimer on Section 1 @~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@ "They are all in the chambers; it is time for their slumber. There are guards stationed in sections of the ship, so we must be very careful," Nastro says, watching Omra putting the equipment from the metallic box into a black colored satchel. "Can you walk on your own?" he asks me. "Yes," I respond, taking each step carefully, feeling the shaking of my legs. Omra put her hand on the mechanism--the door opens to an empty hallway. She walks slowly, peering both ways, right and then left, then turns to give us a sign to follow. Nastro throws the satchel over his shoulder and takes hold of my left arm, Omra taking a hold of my right as we pass her. If an alien discovered us, their plan was to say I had woken up from my coma and was being taken to the infirmary. My heart was beating over-time, I couldn't control my thoughts, the anticipation of going home occupies most of my thinking process. The sleeping chambers were on the top section of the ship. We needed to walk fast, but my legs weren't cooperating. We walk through sections I had not seen before continuous white halls. We passed open door rooms that were brightly lit, with a hazy luminosity from indirect sources in the walls; the atmosphere dank, cool and foul smelling. We walk near the eating area where I remember we congregated to have our breaks. "Teresa, where is Teresa?" I ask. Omra didn't have to say anything; she bowed her head to let me know that Teresa had lost the battle, "She did not want to live anymore. We did nothing to terminate her existence, she took her own." Before I had a chance to respond to this news, I felt a strong push into my side, causing me to fall into a side room, pain radiating through my already weakened body. I hit the floor with a thud. I got up slowly, trying to steady myself against the wall. As I took a pace toward the doorframe I saw one of the tall guards talking to Nastro and Omra so I ducked out of his vision, but kept an eye on my friends. Their arms were animated, gesturing to the way we had jut left, obviously they trying to distract the guard with false truths. They were there for a couple of minutes, before the taller guard finally walked away. Omra rushed in the room, "I apologize for having to do this, but we..." "I understand Omra, that was close," I replied to her, following her back into the hall. "Isn't there a shorter way out of here, maybe a back way?" "Unfortunately there is not, we must hurry," Nastro said, "I was just informed that I will be needed today for surgery. They are going to start their abductions sooner and they are planning to bring in about 10 previous abductees. He is on his way to get the patrol ready." We walk faster, both of the grays surveying the area, looking from side to side. We get to one of the operating rooms that I was taken, a renewed sense of anger hits me, but I must learn to put this aside, I am going to be free. Everything would have been fine if we hadn't had to walk by the glassed--room. I remember seeing it when I was being wheeled to one of my sperm extraction procedures; the room that had the small child-like hybrids. I know that time was of the essence, but I had to stop this time. There are small beds on one side of the room, and all the little children are sleeping. One of the small hybrids that appeared to be about 4 years old sees me and gets up off of its bed. The child approaches the window. She looks just like a human being, a red headed, green-eyed beautiful little girl, her big eyes glaring at me. 'Scully,' I whisper as I put my right hand up against the glass. The child looks at me, then my hand and raises her hand to touch mine through the glass. I gasp and take an unexpected step back as I see her four elongated fingers on the glass. An instant emotion comes over me, almost a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when I see this child, so normal, and yet, not completely. I then think about the sperm that was taken from me. "How many of my children will be caged in areas like this?" I demand angrily, my eyes filling with unexpected tears. Omra stops for a second to look at the child before me. The little girl watches my sadness and the tear that escapes me. I try to conceal my feelings, but she knows. She removes her hand from the glass and holds it before her eyes, looking at her elongated fingers, then she looks down at mine. Her eyes fill with tears as she gives me one last sad look and returns to her bed. "We have no time, we must hurry," Nastro insists, pulling my arm to continue our walk to freedom. Omra stays back for a second, taking one last look at the child. She looks at me oddly. We step onto a moving ramp that descends to a floor beneath the one we were on, "We are close," Nastro states. I can feel my heart beating fast against my ribs, the envision of freedom, the anticipation of seeing Scully, the excitement of placing my hand on her stomach, feeling our child move beneath my embrace. After a few more corridors we see the door. We are just feet away; I could literally taste my freedom. Nastro reaches out to open the small compartment. My mind goes back to the hybrids in that room and I have to ask, "How many children will you produce through the sperm that you have taken from me?" He does not answer but I see Omra looking oddly at me again. I have to stop thinking of that right now and focus on our escape. I see the 15 small white buttons. I panic, wondering if he knows the combination to the mechanism. "Nastro, I want you to open the door and take Fox with you. There is something I must do," Omra says quietly. "What are you saying, you must not go back, it is much too dangerous and it is nearly time for the guards to leave their quarters." Nastro replies anxiously. I grab her arm, "Omra, what are you talking about, you have been my only companion, my survival is because of you, you can't leave me," I tell her. "My son, there is one last thing I must do. Nastro will take good care of you as I did through your incarceration. Let me go now so I can return as soon as I can." And with her last words, she scurried back through the corridor we had just exited. In the months that I was confined I saw the changes in these beings, the more I saw them, the more I saw expressions develop in them. I could now discern the pain that Nastro was in as he watched Omra disappear. Nastro pressed the buttons on the console and the door opened. I could feel the coldness of the air as it hit my lungs and it was a wonderful moving air. A still very dark, I could see the beauty of the trees, and silently cheered as the slight mist sprinkled against my face. Just two steps and I would step on tierra firma, just two steps. With this last thought, Nastro and I took those steps and all hell broke loose, a loud piercing sound reverberated against the walls, strobe lights flashing red and yellow. "You must run, they have found us out," Nastro hollered, grabbing my arm and taking those steps to Earth. My legs were weak, but I couldn't let them betray me, I had to run for my life. We ran and ran until we found an open area in the forest, among the tree's we found an opening to a cave. "Omra, do you think they captured her?" I ask, breathing heavy, the piercing cold wind hitting me. "I do not know. Fox, we must remove the device from within you quickly. They know that there was an escape. They will go to the control panel and start checking, we have little time," he pants, throwing the satchel to the ground, opening it up and taking that silver cylinder out. "I had shown Omra to do this, but I guess it will be I. Take off your clothes, QUICKLY," he instructs firmly. I had been nude and violated so many times in the last 6 months that this didn't even bother me, especially as I knew that this time would be the final time. I strip off my jeans and boxers and lay on my back on the cold rocky ground. I bend my knees and plant my feet firmly on the ground. I look up at the crevices on the rocky cave, graffiti written on the walls, most likely from juveniles, playing in these dark pits. I try to occupy my mind, anything to take my mind off of what Nastro is about to do. "There is a magnet at the end of this rod that will attach itself to the tracking device. Now, take a deep breath as I insert this. It will not be pleasant." "That is the biggest understatem..." I start to say as I feel the hard rounded rod go up my rectum. I hold my breath, trying desperately not to yell. The pain is excruciating as I feel the rod move from side to side. "I am very sorry, under better circumstances I would be able to see through a monitor where I am to move this, but right now I am just guessing." He says to me, as if that is going to assure me. Then I feel a snap, and I see him smile. He pulls the rod out slowly, and at the end is the small computer chip attached to the magnet. He picks up a rock and slams it against the chip, it breaking it many pieces. "We must leave this place as they will track the last place this chip was at," he says to me urgently. I try to sit up, but my rectum is burning. I slowly lift my boxers and jeans back on and stand wincing as the pain moved through me. "Give me the device," I tell him. We step out of the cave and I throw it as far as I can, up toward the trees, hoping it would lodge on a branch. He picks up the satchel and takes a hold of my arm as we leave the cave. I look back for a second and see many beings coming out of the ship, weapons in hand. I hold tightly the pit of my stomach hoping the pain would go away. I feel wetness and I know I'm bleeding, but I can't stop. I'm so close to freedom. + + + There is a lot of confusion, guards running through the corridors, all carrying their laser weapons. Omra tries to get to her destination. She first decides to go back to Mulder's chambers, to see if they've already discovered of his disappearance. She hesitates at first, worried that she'll be found out and forced to tell all, but she will not. She walks in the chambers that was Mulder's home for six months. A melancholy feeling washes over her, but she knows that what they did to her human friend was not right. She walks to the bed and looks at the little table-the letter. Mulder had left the letter he wrote to Scully. Omra picks it up, folds it and stuffs it into the pocket of her uniform. She leaves the room and heads to the place that she needs to go. She opens the door and walks in, and approaches the guard sitting in the front. "What is your business here, Omra?" he asks. "Nastro has given me instructions to pick up the vial of sperm from my prisoner. They are ready to use the contents." Without a word, the guard stands up, opening the door to the refrigerated bank. Within minutes he returns holding 4 vials of cloudy white liquid. "Thank you for your help." Omra takes the vials and places them in her other pocket and starts heading for the exit. "Omra, there has been an escape in one of the chambers. There is chaos everywhere and we are unable to find out at this moment which prisoner it was," the leader informs Omra, "Is your prisoner still comatose?" "Yes, he is. I do not believe that he will come out of it soon. What is it that you want me to do?" Omra asks. "You must leave your post and take your weapon and join the guards to search for the escapee." "Would you like for me to go to Earth with the others?" Omra asked, hoping the answer would be yes. "At once, yes, go." + + + "Nastro, you need to get back to the ship and save Omra," I tell him, panting for air as we are running through the trees. "I promised Omra that I would keep you safe, and that is what I must do." We continue running, the wet ground soaking my tennis shoes. I don't think that Nastro feels temperatures because he isn't complaining. I turn my head and see the beings getting closer, a laser beam hitting against the tree, we both fall to the ground, a branch falling between us. We get up and start running again. Every inch of my body hurts and I don't know how much more my legs can carry me. I feel the heat of another laser beam hit the tree next to us, a spark of fire hitting my arm. I stop, brushing away quickly the hot embers that have made a hole through my jacket and are now burning my arm. "There, straight ahead, I see a cabin about 100 yards in front of us, we have to reach it," I yell at Nastro. "You continue on; go to the structure, save yourself. I will lose them," Nastro says to me. I look at him, concerned about his eminent death if he returns. Right before my eyes, I see a mirror image of myself; Nastro has shape-shifted to my body. He will lose them while I run to safety. I can't believe these beings, they risked their life for me and now they are willing to end it for me. I take a step forward and take him to my arms. "Please take care of yourself, and please find Omra for me. Tell her I love her. Tell her I'll keep her in my thoughts for the rest of my life." I tell him, my voice cracking at the pain I feel and the knot in my throat. I watch Nastro running the opposite way, weaving in and out of the trees, trying hard to make the beings follow him. I am in so much pain, my arm burning for the ember that hit my arm, my legs feel like led, and the procedure that was done in the cave was not making me feel any better, but I needed to put the pain aside and head toward that cabin. Within minutes I reach the cabin, a solitary structure surrounded by pine trees all the way around. I have no idea what time it is, but it must be late. I look through the window and see an old oak grandfather clock; it's 4:30 in the morning. I pound on the door over and over again, looking at the bright light in the horizon. The light turns on in one of the rooms and the curtain is opened from behind the window. "Please, help me, please. I'm a federal agent and I need help," I shout. "Let me see your I.D," the elderly lady asks me. "I don't have it, please I'm telling the truth," I desperately plead. "Call my partner, call her, please," I beg. She closes the drapes and I feel lost. So close but yet so far. I look again at the horizon where I can still see the orange light of the spacecraft. I am about to turn away from the cabin, knowing that I have lost the fight, when I am thrown to the ground, a loud explosion ripping through the forest. A huge fireball bursting up as high as the eye could see. "Omra, Nastro," I yell. I can't hold my emotions anymore. Everything has hit me at the same time. My return to Earth, the loss of Nastro and the alien who literally saved my life, Omra. I will always be grateful to them, they risked their lives for me and they are now dead. My eyes fill with tears and I start to sob. I'm lying on the ground in a ball, crying like a baby when I feel an arms embrace me. "What was that explosion" I heard a voice say to me. I look up into the eyes of an elderly lady, who has taken me into her arms, "Son, I believe you, come on in." She helps me get up, I stagger into the house and fall on her couch, exhausted and in pain. "The phone, please I need to call my partner." The elderly lady walks to the other room then comes back with a cordless phone and hands it to me. My fingers are shaking, I can't believe I am calling her. My fingers punch the numbers one number at a time. The phone rings, once, twice, three times, I don't even realize I'm holding my breath. "Scully," she says half asleep. At the sound of her voice I start to cry, my words are trapped in my mouth, and I can't say anything. "This is Scully, who is this?" "It's me Scully, this is Mulder." Getting Back (13-15) Disclaimer on Section 1 @~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@ There was silence for what felt like an eternity, then a very faint response, "Mulder, is it...is it really you?" her hopeful voice barely above a whisper. "My God...my God, where are you?" Hearing the slight catch to her voice, Mulder closed his eyes, relief washing over him. "I'm back in Oregon...I...think." Mulder spoke softly, his hands beginning to shake as the realization that he really was back on Earth, and listening to Scully's familiar voice, completely overwhelmed him. The adrenaline rush from the escape now drained from him and he slumped wearily onto a chair. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Her questions came furiously one right after another. "I'm okay, at least I am now. Scully, I missed you so much," his voice quivered as he held the handset tightly to his ear with both hands, afraid that if he didn't hold it tight, she would disappear, he would disappear. "Tell me where you are, Mulder. I have to send Skinner to get you, I can't trav..." she began to say. "I know Scully, I know why you can't come for me," he replied, his voice low. "What do you mean you know?" "You can't fly right now, because...because...you are pregnant, carrying our child." He mumbled, the thickness in his throat unveiling his emotion to her. Mulder could hear small sniffles transmitting through the phone line, proclaiming through the silence that Scully was trying hard to remain strong but was failing "But how did...how do you know?" Scully sobbed. "If you only knew Mulder what I've been through, what your disappearance has done to me, especially at a time like this." "That's not important right now. There will be plenty of time. Scully, tell Skinner I'm at...wait let me ask." He said, moving the receiver away from his ear and turning to the elderly lady who was kind enough to let him in. "My address is 1123 Limberlost." "What city are we in?" Mulder asked. The woman raised her eyebrows and looked him up and down, "Son, you really don't know where you're at, do you? You are in Bellefleur, Oregon." Mulder put the receiver back to his ear and gave Scully the address. "I'll call Skinner right now, Mulder...I...I missed you so much." "I've missed you too, Scully, so very much. You have no idea," he whispered, "Tell Skinner to hurry, bye" and he hung up the phone before the tears that threatened to fall were obvious to her. + + + Scully heard the click of the phone, but she didn't want to return it to its cradle, afraid that if she lost any connection with the handset he would vanish again. This wasn't a dream; it couldn't be a dream. She looked around the room, touching her face, her swollen stomach, making sure that she was awake...yes, she was awake. Wiping away the tears from her cheeks, she pressed the connection button and stabbed the quick dial to Skinner's home number. 'It's 8:00 in the morning, Skinner, you can't still be asleep. Answer the phone' Scully thought to herself, her fingernails tapping nervously against the phone. She sighed in relief when he answered on the tenth ring, "Skinner," came his voice, groggy with sleep, "Skinner." "Sir, it's Scully," she blurted, unable to hide the emotions. "Scully, what's the matter, is the baby alright?" Skinner asked quickly. Scully could hear the thin whispery sounds of sheets sliding away from his body, as though he was changing position on his bed. "I'm fine Sir, I am more fine than I've ever been. I just received a phone call right now, Sir. It's Mulder, he's...he's back, Sir. He's come back to me." Scully said, trying desperately not to lose her composure. "Mulder is back, where, when?" Skinner asked, bouncing off the bed, "But how?" "Sir, he says he's okay, but his voice sounded weary and tense, which indicates to me that he isn't ok. You know I can't travel, you need to go get him and bring him back to me," she explained to him, giving him the complete address of his location. "He's back where he vanished?" Skinner asked, astonished. "Yes he is, and Sir, he knows about the baby." "But how?" Skinner asked. "I don't know Sir, it's Mulder, he will never cease to amaze me. How soon can you leave, Sir?" "I'm getting ready as we speak. I'll have him back with you before nightfall." Skinner said, hanging up the phone, picking up his clothes and hurrying to the shower to get ready. + + + "Son, you don't look very well, why don't you come with me," the elderly lady says to me, taking the handset away from my clenched fist, returning it to its cradle. I look up, my face feeling years older, my exhaustion finally taking over. "No, I don't feel well at all. Ma'am, I really appreciate you taking me in. You are nice to take a chance on a stranger." I tell her, holding her small wrinkled papery hand within mine. "Son, I am 70 years old, and I think by now I know how to read people. And you, my boy, you have the face of an angel, a boy that has suffered a lot. My name is Ruth, and yours?" "Fox, Fox Mulder," I reply, smiling wearily. "Fox, now that's an unusual name, but I like. Okay, Fox, son, let's get you up to the bedroom. You need to sleep and I'm sure you are starving. And by the look of those pants, practically falling off your hips, I assume you haven't had a good nourishing meal in a long time." Ruth says, helping me off the couch, taking me by my arm and escorting me to the nearest bedroom in her small cabin. "Let me take off your jacket. By the looks of the hole on your jacket, you must have burned your arm on the explosion," she offers, "Now let's remove your shoes." I grimace for a second, recalling that in the last 6 months, I had been bathed, changed and fed by everyone and everything other than myself, "Thank you, I do need help." Ruth gently removes my jacket, "My dear, boy, you are badly burned on your arm. Let me see if I have anything to fix you up," she finishes, picking up my legs, helping me move them onto the bed. I sigh in contentment as I lay myself out fully on the very soft mattress and pull the comforter up to my neck. At this moment I feel the safest I have in the past 6 months. Ruth continues to fuss around me, and I let myself enjoy it. "I'll be okay, I just need to sleep. Ruth, before you leave, you need to call the police about the fireball, the explosion that happened in the distance," I say, my voice already starting to slur with exhaustion. "Oh, Fox, that is such a natural occurrence in these parts that I tend to ignore them. Funny thing; some folks around here insist they are flying saucers. I don't know, I think they are just kids playing with matches. But if you feel like I should, I will. Let me get you a wet cloth to wash that burned area on your arm." She begins, and I didn't hear the rest of her sentence as I drift off to sleep. + + + "Son, wake up. You're having a bad nightmare," Ruth insists, gently shaking me awake. "I was in the other room and I heard your creams. They must have done horrible things to you, for you to be in such a fearing state." I gasp, sitting up so quickly that I almost knocks Ruth to the floor, "I'm sorry, I was having a nightmare." "What did they do to you, boy?" she asks me again, picking up the wet rag from the table, wiping the perspiration from my drenched forehead. I don't say anything, just lay there, relaxing into the gentle touch of this caring, elderly woman. "What time is it?" I ask, ignoring her question, looking around for a clock. "It's about 9:00 in the morning." Ruth says, cleaning the area around the burn, "Now, I'm not a meddling old lady, but from the conversation you were having with the person on the other end of the line, it seems they are more than a friend." I look at Ruth, giving her a smile, "She...Dana, has been my partner with the FBI for the last seven years, and yes, she's more than my partner." "Did she tell you when she's coming to pick you up?" Ruth asks, wrapping my arm with gauze. "Dana won't be coming, just our boss. I don't really know. But between flying time and the time change, I would suspect this evening," I tell her, watching her as she delicately took care of my wound. "Why don't you wash up, while I make you some breakfast," Ruth says, standing up from the bed, "The bathroom is down the hall to your right, second door." "Breakfast, I haven't had a decent meal in six months." I get up from the bed, heading out of the bedroom, stopping by the doorframe, "Ruth, don't make a big breakfast. I don't think it would be a wise idea since for the last six months, I've not been eating well. I might upchuck it all." I walk to the bathroom, closing the door behind me, locking it, relieved that finally I have some privacy. For six months I was stripped of not only my clothes, but also my dignity. I step in front of the mirror, looking at my drawn face. Although, Omra must have kept me shaven, I had a few days of stubble. I lift up my nearly shoulder-length lank hair, laughing at the thought of what Scully was going to say. I want to take a shower, but Ruth's Florence Nightingales' handy work was going to prevent me getting my arm wet. I decide I could maneuver myself around the shower so that Ruth won't think I don't appreciate her kindness. I remove my T-shirt, dropping it on the floor, then attempt to unbutton my jeans. I realize what Ruth had meant about my baggy pants. I must have lost quite a bit of weight during the time I was comatose. I stroke the skin at my chest, noting that my ribs are prominent. I shudder to think what I look like as a whole, as I can only see my face in the mirror. I step into the shower, feeling the hot water hit my face; my body, it feels so good. I take the bar of soap, smelling its pine scent, lathering it in my hands, then rubbing it on my chest. I do the best I can bathe without getting my arm wet. I must make a point that when I get home; a very long shower will be one of the first things I do. Well, after I hold Scully tightly to me for an eternity that is!!! After about 15 minutes, I walk in the kitchen, wonderful aroma of bacon wafting around me. My plate was on the table waiting for me; bacon and eggs, home-style potatoes and biscuits, with a tall glass of orange juice. "Ruth, you have no idea how good this looks." I tell her, my mouth salivating. "Sit and eat as much as you want, but start slowly, we don't want to frighten your stomach. From what I could see from your clothes, you need a lot of fattening up." After two platefuls of food, I head back to the living room glancing around, absorbing the beauty of her nicely decorated house. She follows me to the living room, watching my every movement. I look at the television then turn to her, "Can I watch some t.v?" I ask her. I am amused by her chuckle as she hands me the remote control. I can see that she doesn't understand. I am merely savoring my life, my freedom. I settle down into the overstuffed couch, rest my long legs on the footstool that Ruth has placed in front of me, and enjoy the sensation of relaxing with a full belly while sleepily watching some local basketball match on the t.v. Ruth sits next to me and begins to watch the game; "You like basketball?" I ask her. "I had to learn to like every sport imaginable. My sons played every sport invented by man. My husband, God rest his soul, was one of those devoted dads who attended all their games. So, either I joined them, or I was left behind doing the womanly things, and son, that was not my style. I was way ahead of my time. I was not one of those women about to stay home, barefoot and pregnant. Nope, I was out there rooting for my boys, and yelling foul words at the opponents." I laugh out loud at her story, "Ruth, if you only knew how good it feels to laugh. It's been a very long time," I tell her, almost jealous of the close-knit harmony that she must have created with her sons and her husband. "Family activities is something I missed while growing up." "Oh, I don't believe that," she responds to me, scooting up closer to take my hand. "I'm sure your parents did the same thing." "No, Ruth, not all parents are like that. Don't get me wrong, my parents loved me in their own sort of way. Your sons are very lucky." They have blessed me in may ways. In fact, they've given me 10 grandchildren," Ruth smiles fondly, getting up and walking to the chimney mantle to pick up a photograph she had in an antique frame. "This is the whole family," she says with a proud smile. "Beautiful family. Ruth, does your family live in this town?" I ask her, admiring the family photo. "About an hour away. My husband and I moved up here about 10 years ago. Although we love our kids and their kids, it was time for my husband and I to spend our last years together, alone. Just like the beginning when we first met. My husband passed away about six months ago," she says to me as she sits back down next to me. "Oh, I'm sad, but I thank God every day of my life that I was given so many years with that wonderful man. Fox, I have a very good sense on people, and you have a sense of long-term sadness. This Dana you called, you love her very much, right?" I smile at her knowing that I would have loved to have a grandma like Ruth, "Yes, Ruth, I love her very much. We skirted around our true feelings for many years, denying our love," I tell her, watching the intense look in her face, listening to every word I had to say, "Because of the line of work we are in, there were instances that we nearly lost one another. But I'm here now, and believe me Ruth, I am going to make it all up to her--to our baby." "A baby? Why, a baby is not conceived by denial," she smiles. Again she makes me laugh. "You're right, Ruth. About 8 months ago, we found each other and stopped denying, but then I was taken and we almost lost that chance. But not now, I'm back and I'll never leave her again." I tell Ruth, the last words difficult to say with the heaviness in my chest. "You are young. You have your whole life ahead of you," she grins, wrapping her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. "You're a remarkable woman, Ruth. You open your home to a complete stranger and you make this person feel the warmth and love that I've missed in a long time. I thank you for this and also for the wise words you have offered me. The minute I get back to Scully, I'm going to tell her that she and I will be just like you and your husband, with lots of kids and grandchildren. You think 39 years of age is too late to start a family?" I smile. "Thirty-nine, why you're just a child," she says, separating the hug. A knock on the door brings us out of our reverie. Standing up too quickly, a feeling of dizziness forces me to grab the sturdy back of the couch. I stand there waiting. We look at each other, seconds passing before either of us makes a movement. "Sir" is all that came out of my mouth. It takes me by surprise when he steps forward and embraces me, a bear hug around my tired body. I wrap my arms around his broad back in response. "Mulder," is all he can say. We hold each other like father and son, like two brothers, like two great friends, "I shouldn't have let you go, I should have demanded you not to." Skinner grunted sadly. "I would have gone anyway, Sir, you know that. I had to go instead of Scully." I tell him, still holding him tightly. I look over my shoulder and see Ruth watching us. I can only imagine what she is thinking. I separate the hug and turn to her. "Ruth, I'd like you to meet my boss, Assistant Director Skinner. Ruth, I'm a F.B.I. Agent. I was kidnapped six months ago. I was able to escape today and right now, I'm very anxious to go home and see my partner," I said, then turn to Skinner, "You did get a flight back today, right?" "Yes, the flight leaves in two hours, let's get going," he tells me, then turns to Ruth, "Ma'am, thank you very much for your hospitality. The FBI is very appreciative of your generosity. Agent Mulder is one of our finest, and his ordeal has had a traumatic effect on him. Your offer to TLC is probably the best homecoming anyone could have given him." We say our good-byes and give Ruth a hug for helping me at a time that I needed help. Skinner and I walk to the car in silence. I could tell he was ill-at-ease, self-conscious and I know I needed to ease his mind. I also needed to talk about Scully and see how she was. But right now I needed to see something. "Sir, I know you have a lot of questions right now, and I'll try to answer them as best I can, but I need to ask a favor. I need for you to drive about a quarter of a mile south on this road. There will be a cave to the right, will you take me there?" I ask him. He looks at me then bows his head in acknowledgement, still quiet. We reached the cave, hidden behind the trees; Skinner parked on the shoulder of the road. "I'll be back in a second," I tell him, but he's following me out of the car before I finish my sentence. "Mulder, if I let you out of my sight and something happens to you, Scully will have my hide," he warns, walking around to my side of the car. I slide out of the car slowly, still feeling the pain within my rectum shooting up to the pit of my stomach. My legs are still weak from months of keeping them immobile. "Let me help you," Skinner says, taking a hold of my arm, helping me walk toward the cave. I look at the horizon where the ship had landed and where the explosion had occurred. I walk in the cave slowly, looking around in the hope that I can find Nastro. I approach the center of the cave and find the familiar satchel. Bending down slowly, I retrieve the bag and open it. The cylinder metallic rod, is still in the bag with markings of crusted, dry blood remaining from the extraction of my tracking device. I'm amazed at how long it is and wonder how that thing was dug into me. The sadness hits me as I realize that Nastro and Omra risked their lives to rescue a single human being. "What is that, Mulder?" Skinner asks, taking it from my hands. "You don't want to know," I respond. He looks at the object then back to me in bewilderment. "This was inserted into me, where the sun don't shine," I joked. For the first time in a long time, I hear myself laughing, as I watch Skinner drop the rod as if it was on fire. "Don't worry, Sir, unless someone is about to jam it up your ass, it is really harmless." He bends down to pick it up and investigates it carefully. "I don't think it's sterile, it was inserted in me," I tell him, watching him drop it again. I smile; lifting it up and putting it back in the satchel. I look in the bag again, and find two stilettos. I'm guessing there was one for each of my little alien friends. Skinner looks at me puzzled, I think he is trying to understand the expression I have in my face; an expression of a loss, "What is it Mulder? Just what did they do to you?" "Sir, you have no idea. I will explain it later, but I will tell you one thing, if it wasn't for two alien beings, and their support and their constant protection over me, I would have surely died. In fact, four months ago, I was operated on and it had a bad outcome. I went into a coma for four months, and Omra and Nastro took care of me until I came out of it. I owe them my life, but yet, they lost their lives for me." I bow my head with grief, sadness washing over me. "Omra? Nastro?" Skinner asks bewildered. "They were my saviors," I respond quietly, holding the satchel close to my chest as I turn to leave the cave. I start walking down the path that Nastro had walked when he shape-shifted into my features. I look around not really knowing what I would find; maybe the little gray with its long fingers, and expressionless characteristics. I walk back to the car, Skinner close at my heels. "I need you to drive straight ahead, about another mile," I tell him, still hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the two, but mostly Omra. We approach the clearing at the end of the horizon and leave the car again, Skinner is hot on my heels, nearly as part of my own body, "Sir, I'm not going to get lost, or let myself be taken again," I assure him. "No chances, we are one right now Mulder." We inspect the scorched circular markings on the ground, the remnant of a very huge object. The leaves from the trees are burnt to a crisp, branches hanging bare and black from the fire. I head toward the circular ring of the outlined area. "Omra, I am so sorry-thank you for giving me my life back," I yell at the top of my lungs, as a tear escapes my eye. I reach for the cross that Scully has given me, and now more then ever, this piece of jewelry means so much. Not so much for the times it has been a symbol of Scully and my feelings for each other, but now also a symbol of Omra. Why, because she knew what it meant to me, and she wouldn't let anyone take it. Skinner approaches me, placing his arm over my shoulder, bringing me close to him, again in silence. He knows that I will talk when it's time, right now it is not. "Let's go home." I tell him. Getting Back (14-15) headers and disclaimers in 1/15 @~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@ Sitting on the plane for the long five hour flight is very painful for me. I nod off several times, the pain constantly reawakening me each time I attempt to maneuver my body into a more comfortable position. I hug the satchel close to me, not willing to let it out of my sight. I close my eyes, a smile escaping my face, recollecting the images of fast-talk, badge-flashing Skinner had to do to convince the security personnel, of the highly classified content in the satchel and the reason why it couldn't leave our sight. I have the window seat; watching the white swirl of clouds mesh with the blue sky as we move through them reminds me that I have been up there, somewhere. Who will possibly believe me? Scully is a scientist, skeptical until proven otherwise, and even though she is now my lover and the mother of my child, how much of my story will she accept. + + + It is already 9:00 P.M. as we walk slowly to Skinner's car in the airport parking structure. Except for the few times Skinner tries to apologize, or make perfunctory chitchat, we keep quiet. I feel sorry for him, knowing that for the period of my disappearance, he had this terrible guilt resting on his shoulders, but I just didn't want to talk right now. I just want to soak everything in, feel life again, not take the air in my lungs for granted. Everything looks beautiful. The buildings, the crowds of people rushing to their destinations; even in this late hour of the night. They are moving in the same hectic mode that I had been accustomed to before I had been taken, not knowing the wonderful gift I had until it had been threatened to be taken away. More silence as we drive through the city. We finally reach my apartment building; my heart is hammering a million miles a minute. I am breathless, scared, and at the same time impatient to get to Scully, eager to see her face, her smile, and feel her embrace. "Sir, aren't you going to take me to Scully's?" I ask him as I gaze up to the window of my apartment. "She's been staying here more times than her own place. I think she just felt closer to you staying at your place. Mulder," he says, placing his hand on my shoulder to get my attention, "she's been extremely strong through this ordeal, but we have some concern that her internalizing the stress of your absence could have a detrimental effect on her health, and on your unborn child. I am not trying to trivialize your ordeal by any means, but I need for you to be aware that both of you need time to heal and adapt to the new situation." I turn to him, worry clouding my features. "Is there any serious problems I need to be aware of?" "Not serious, Mulder. Your friends, Byers, Frohike and Langly took care of her the best they could. They took her to doctor's appointments; they called her often to see if she was doing okay. Mulder, they even took turns going to Lamaze classes," he smiled. "Lamaze classes, I even missed that." I say softly, under my breath. "Yes, you have, and Mulder, I would have traded places with you ten fold if it were at all possible. I am so sorry." Skinner says to me, once again assuring me with the touch of his hand on my shoulder. "It wasn't your fault, Sir. Don't ever blame yourself for what happened to me. I felt that I had to protect what I love." I tell him turning to the side, looking into Skinner's eyes. "My life has been filled with avenues of misfortunes, but Scully was never a misfortune, she was and will always be my reason for living, my savior. Now, Sir, if you don't mind, I think it's time to go see her, to hold her close and to never let go again. I have missed so much, I didn't get the chance to share any of her pregnancy with her, and I want so much to feel our baby kick at me for ignoring it." "Thank you, Mulder. Even though in the recess of my mind, I will always feel guilty. Right now, I feel that I've been forgiven. I'm going to let you go up by yourself. This is a time for both of you to be alone," he says, returning his hand to the steering wheel. "As a matter of fact, I think I might walk you to your door, I'm just so afraid you'll get lost." He teases, a smile softening his worried features. "I won't get lost, go on home and thanks," I tell him as I reach out to unlatch the door. I know he is joking and I am thankful that he is allowing the reunion be just Scully and me. I smile at him one last time, open the door and take a step out, retrieving my satchel. I begin the slow approach to the front of the apartment building, making one last turn to see Skinner backing out of the parking lot. The elevator ride is so familiar to me it is reassuring--I am really free. I touch the wall, the door; everything seems to look beautiful to me. The doors open and I hesitate for a couple of seconds, afraid to take that one step, afraid that I would suddenly awaken from this beautiful dream. Yet as I take a step forward into the hallway I feel it deep within my soul, it is real. I move further down the hall, noticing the door to apartment 40 is wide open and empty inside. 'They must have moved out' I think to myself, trying to recall which neighbor had once lived there, sadly admitting that I don't really know my neighbors at all unless they decided to become obsessed with Scully, but that was another time, another story. I continue walking and stop in front of number 42. I take a few deep breaths, and notice my hands are shaking. I pause in reverence before raising my hand, my knuckles make contact against the cool wood, the thumps eerily echoing down the hall, a multitude of emotions are running through me. It is strange to be knocking on my own door, but I can sense Scully on the other side and I want to give her time to compose herself. My hands are trembling stronger now as I wait in anticipation for her to open the last barrier between us. I hear the latch unlock and I stare intently at the knob as it turns slowly, then a rectangular shaft of light illuminates the darkened hall, growing wider as the door swings open. I am holding my breath. It is Scully, an angel of beauty, of grace, before my eyes. We simultaneously hesitate, maybe nervous, maybe shy, both knowing the months apart between us have been long and painful. I know that I am praying that this wasn't simply the result of a dream's cruel joke. Without a word being spoken between us, I gaze at her face, yes, this time I am gazing at her. Her face is pure and innocent, free of make-up, allowing me to see every soft nuance around her vivid blue eyes. Her auburn hair swept away from her face and bundled into a ponytail. I feel a tremendous lump in my throat and my heart aches at the thought of what she must have been through worrying about my disappearance. My eyes move slowly down her form, racing to memorize every detail, every inch of her body. My vision is blurred by the tears I am trying to hold back at the sight of the bulge underneath my Knicks T-shirt she has on. She is wearing my blue sweatpants that are now stretched at the waistband as far as they will go. It was true, I am going to be a father! I am mesmerized as I take a step through the doorframe. "Scully." Is all that spills from my lips as I reach out to envelop her in my embrace, her warm body close to mine fast becoming the most wonderful sensation I have ever felt. "It's you, it's really you Mulder." She keeps on whispering, as she holds my face with her two hands, as she kisses my lips, my eyes, my forehead, "God, I have missed you so much." I am speechless; I just couldn't break the embrace. I am afraid to let her go. I feel like a child, lost in the grocery store, scared, and then finding my parents and holding them in fear of being lost again. I don't want to let her go. I don't want to be lost again. I nuzzle my head on the crook of her neck and start to cry quietly, my body heaving with emotion. As she holds me closer, the tears pour out faster. I think she wants to be strong for me, but hearing me cry releases her tightly held emotions to the forefront and she starts to cry as well. I hold her tight, feeling her swollen stomach press up against mine. Then I feel it, a waving motion and then a jab. I loosen the embrace and look down once again at her stomach. "I felt our baby move." I respond with awe. "The baby knew you were coming home. I told him all about you." She whispers with pride taking my hand and placing it on her extended stomach. "He, you said he?" I ask enthusiastically. She laughs, the tinkling tone delighting me, welcoming me home more than anything else could. "It makes it easier to say he, I don't know what we're having. I want it to be a surprise. God, Mulder, I missed you so very much. But I knew you were coming back to me," and she pauses as tears trickle from her eyes" I had dreams about you...lots of dreams. Like the dreams I have had previously when everyone thought you were dead, but I knew you weren't." She says between sobs. "I dreamt of you too, Scully. And I thought of you every waking moment." I tell her, taking her hand and leading her to the couch. "Oh, Mulder, I'm sorry, you must be drained, let's sit down." she says, taking the lead as she notices my slow movements. "You're not well, and you are so thin. Mulder, you've lost so much weight." "Solient green, alien food isn't what it's cut out to be." I joke. She grins, "and your hair, it's long, umm, I like it, Mulder, better than the weed-whacker look you do every summer." The smile flickers briefly at her own joke but within a second she becomes serious again. "What happened, Mulder, why did you leave me. The greatest miracle of all happened, I found out I was pregnant the day you were taken and...and I was alone. Yes, I did say I knew you were coming back to me, but I'd be lying to you. I was so scared that you were gone forever. And...the worst part was that you would never know I was carrying our child." "But I did find out, and that's what tormented me even more, Scully. Knowing that a miracle had happened from that one night we spent together, and that it was highly probable I would never be able to be with you to hold our baby." I said softly. "I don't understand, how did you know?" "It's a long story, a very long story," I inform her, "but, first thing first. Scully, I want to see your stomach, can I?" I ask shyly, "And speaking of seeing your stomach, you are majorly stretching my Knicks T-Shirt and never mind the expanded waistband of my sweats." She giggles, yes, Scully giggled as she lifts my T-shirt to expose her swollen belly, displaying such a beautiful sight. I lower my head, gently touching her stomach, feeling the little movements underneath the skin, which nudges against the side of my face. "Just like the dream I had of you, Scully. I dreamt that we were in bed and your water broke. I dreamt that I had to hurry and take you to the hospital but we didn't make it and I had to deliver our child in the back seat of a car. I dreamt of you during the times I was strapped in that bed." I say, realizing too late what I had let slip. "You were strapped down? My God, Mulder, I know how much you hate that. What did they do to you?" she demands. "Not now, later...I just want to sit here and look at you, all of you." I nuzzle at her extended navel. Scully sighs with resignation. "Well, before you do that, I'm going to fix you some dinner. You are way too skinny right now. I need to fatten you up to look like me." She teases, leveraging herself with her hands against the couch to lift herself up. "Do you need help?" I muse, as I stand and extend my hand to help her. After a couple of sways back and forth, she finally rises to an upright position. "Don't say anything." She retorts, wobbling toward the kitchen. I gaze at her for a second, then follow her. "Mulder, stay in the living room, you have to rest." She instructs, taking the pot from the kitchen cabinet. "I...I don't want to..." I reply, embarrassed. She seems to understand what I mean by this, that I don't want to be alone. It might take awhile before I am able to be alone in a room, to not feel the fear I felt all these past months. I sit at the small table, and watch with amusement as Scully maneuvers herself around the tiny workplace. I am more amazed at how comfortable she appears to be how familiar she is with my belongings. Soon, the delicious smell of frying onions, mushroom and garlic wafts around the room. I stare at her dreamily as she adds stock and shredded chicken to the pot. After presenting me with a bowl, she sits down at the kitchen table with me, watching me eat with enthusiasm, "So you like my chicken soup?" She asks. "That's not all I like," I smile, spooning the soup in my mouth with vigor. Scully smiles back at me. After I finish my meal, we head back to the living room, Scully sits on the couch, I pace around my small apartment, stopping at the fish tank. "You took good care of them." I then walk toward the television set and take the remote control and sit next to her. "Six months without television. Do you know how hard it was for me to go to sleep in complete silence?" I joke, resting my arm across her shoulders, pulling her close to me. I turn the television on, and immediately begin surfing the channels. "We're not going to watch t.v," she says to me, removing the remote from my hands, turning the television set off. "We need to talk." "I'm tired, Scully, maybe another time," I tell her, trying to put aside the inevitable. "Then, let's go to bed, we'll talk there." She responds firmly, scooting herself from the couch, standing up again. I'm nervous at her reaction, her insistence. I don't know what to make of it. Too many things are happening at once, my thoughts are working overtime, We sleep together just one time, the night we conceived our child, and now, is she asking me to go to bed with her? "I'll take the couch," I tell her. "No, Mulder, you're not getting out of my sight. Besides, I want to hold you in my arms," she says to me, bending down to kiss my forehead, "I lay many nights alone, holding only my stomach, feeling our unborn child grow. I am not going to sleep alone tonight. I need to have you beside me. I missed you." I get up off the couch and follow her to the bedroom, still looking around at my environment; everything is so amazingly wonderful. I open the drawer to get some clean boxers and find Scully's undergarments in it. I turn around, puzzled, catching her cute innocent smile. "I only filled up one drawer. I stayed here half of the time. I felt I was closer to you." I grin delightedly, pleased that Scully had already decided to become a more permanent presence in my life. After a quick shower, I walk back to the bedroom, Scully patiently waiting for me to finish. "I like your hair. You aren't going to cut it are you?" she asks me, "and you need smaller size boxers, or you need to fatten up," she teases, entering the bathroom, leaving the door ajar. I climb in bed, feeling the softness of the mattress and the vanilla scent on the pillow, the smell of Scully. + + + Scully leaves the bathroom a short time later not wanting to leave Mulder alone. She finds an extra large T-shirt of Mulder's and slips it on over her bikini underwear, the bottom of her belly exposed, 'I will not wear the pregnancy underwear, not for this baby Huey' she jokes about her bulging belly. She heads to the bed, noticing Mulder already asleep. Smiling fondly down at him, she carefully crawls under the sheets so as not to awaken him. It takes her awhile to fall asleep, being so aware of his warm body lying beside her but eventually exhaustion overtakes her and she falls asleep curled up along side of him. + + + Scully bolts awake suddenly as screams rip through her dreams. She turns in the moonlit shadows to see Mulder's head thrashing from left to right, his knees drawn up, his feet planted on the bed, hips lifting off the bed tense in mid-air. He holds the sheets of the bed with such tight clenched fists that his knuckles are as white as the sheets "Omra, help me Omra, make them stop, it hurts, I can't take the pain anymore!" he yells. Scully scoots herself next to him, nudging her face to his ear, whispering to him, while she rubs his thighs, his hands, to loosen his muscles to relax. "Wake up, Mulder, it's only a dream. I'm here with you. Shhhh. Open your eyes." She croons softly. + + + I don't realize I'm holding my breath in between yells, and when I wake up startled, looking around at the surroundings, I'm not on the craft but at home; Scully by my side. "I, I had a bad dream," I tell her, as if she didn't know. "I know, Mulder, more to add to your collection of nightmares. I'm with you now. Mulder, I want you to tell me what happened to you. I know it's going to be hard, but maybe if you talk, it will make you feel better...and who is Omra?" she asks me. I focus on my breathing, the memories very vivid in my mind, "Omra is the alien being that saved my life. She protected me the best she could. After the tests, she'd hold me as if I was her child. She promised to help me escape and she did. I think she was killed at my escape." I tell her, feeling sadness for the loss. I take a deep breath and finally tell her my story; the whole story, holding back nothing as I know Scully deserves this. Scully sits up, gently guiding me to lay my head on her lap, her hand gently weaving her fingers through my long hair, smiling sadly, then moving her hand to her cross, which still hangs around my neck. She did not speak as I relived the horrible ordeal. "They found out or somehow knew of the surgery that was done on me a year back and decided to do another cranial surgery, to find whatever CSM was looking for. The plan was to make another trip to Earth to pick up more humans, Omra and her confidante, Nastro were determined to set me free. If it weren't on this trip, I would have been there for another year. The escape was not that bad, but Omra decided to go back into the ship for something, I don't know for what...but..." my voice trembling at the thought of her demise. Nastro promised to Omra that I would be free. Nastro shape-shifted to my form and they chased him. That's when I was able to escape. Then...minutes later I heard the explosion. I waited for a few minutes before I looked out and the horizon was ablaze. I know that Omra and Nastro were killed. Scully, they saved me, I would have been dead if it wasn't for them." I look at her, not being able to read her thoughts, "A tall tale, isn't it? Do you believe me?" "You know I wouldn't have believed you years ago, but yes Mulder, I believe every word. I'm sorry about Omra and Nastro. But Mulder, you must not blame yourself for their deaths. They did what they chose to be the right thing. To bring you back to me." she comforts me, then with a puzzled look she continues, "Doesn't tell me how you knew I was pregnant." "Scully, remember months ago when Teresa called you to her place to tell you about me? That wasn't Teresa that was Omra, shape-shifting into her body. Omra had disappeared from me for a few days. I didn't know she was sent back on Earth for an assignment, and she decided to take a detour. She wanted to bring back news for me. I was losing hope and I really didn't much care if I lived at that time. She needed something to take back with her to give me an added incentive, and it did. That's when she told me of our child." "It's over now. We're together, and have a lifetime to make up for the six months you were away. You'll be with me when our baby comes and life will be perfect." She says to me taking me into her arms, and I melt into her warmth as we smother with our embrace. For the first time in many months, I feel at peace, and for the first time in more years then I care to remember, I feel loved. We both hug each other, as close as we can with her belly in between us, and both fall asleep in each other's arms. Getting Back - (15-15) Headers and disclaimers in 1/15 @~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@ The gentle brushing of the tree branches hitting against my bedroom window remind me of the April night Scully and I had spent together. I want to get out of bed and open the window to breathe In the cool night air, but I am keenly aware that Scully is Nuzzled up beside me. The warmth of her body, the scent of the vanilla body spray she uses these days is intoxicating to my senses and with the memory of my recent intense loneliness, there is no way I am going to move away. I snuggle up closer to her, nuzzling her earlobe with the softness of my lips. She whimpers, her face lighting up into a sweet smile. "Mulder, you're tickling me." She whispers, her tone indicating she is clearly enjoying it. "Scully, do you know this is the first time that you and I have woken up together, on the same bed." I murmur into her soft hair. "There were our overnight stakeouts, but then again, we were focused on our task at the time. The only other time we shared a bed for purposes other than sleeping was on that April morning. I woke to find the side next to me on the bed cold, you had left." I tell her, holding her close to me. I reach down and caress the soft skin of her belly, "Scully, when is our baby due?" "December 31st." she says to me with a knowing smile. I nod; my thoughts going back to the last December 31st we had shared together, remembering a first-time moment between us. "Our first real kiss and it had nothing to do with CPR that time." I tease, kissing gently down her neck leaving a moist trail behind. "We never talked about that, did we? While you may have chalked it up as a sprit-of-the-season moment, I never did." "Neither did I, Mulder." Scully answers with honesty, her voice low and husky, squeezing her chin against the top of my head as I find one of her ticklish spots. "We were so ridiculous for so many years--what were we waiting for? For a 'right moment' to jump out at us? If anything, I've learned from our mistakes, Mulder, is that there are only 'right moments' when we make them, not the other way around." "Well I'm glad we finally figured that out, Scully--now we just have to work on making up for lost time." I playfully answer; placing my hand on her stomach, bunching her shirttail in the palm of my hand until I have successfully exposed her swollen belly out into the open. "You're so little to have such a big belly." I chuckle as I stroke the taut skin. "Thanks, Mulder for the observation of my 'big' belly," Scully chuckles, her fingers under my chin, raising my head to face her, her eyes growing serious. She reaches out to touch my face, brushing my lips with her fingers. "It doesn't matter how I look. I love being this way. When I was told that I could never bear children, I didn't realize until that moment at what I had lost. I had played a game of chance, deciding that I would have children when* I * was ready, but once that option was denied me, I wanted that opportunity back more than anything. I wanted a chance to pass on the miracle of life to another, to feel a person grow inside of my womb, to kick and move beneath my skin, even feel when it hiccuped. I've been given a second chance, Mulder, and I'm not wasting a single minute to enjoy it." "Just how did this happen?" I ask her, my hands rubbing her stomach, the pads of my fingers devilishly roaming along the stretched, smooth skin, pausing at the crease between her belly and breast. "You want to know how this happened? Didn't your dad give you the 'birds and the bee's talk' all fathers give their sons?" She jokes. "Actually, Scully, Mary Lou Hearst and her boyfriend next door pretty much saved him from that fatherly duty when I happened to walk." I begin to ramble as Scully's mouth closes across mine. Several minutes pass, neither of us coming up for air until I finally break the kiss panting, adding in a hoarse voice, "I did good, didn't I?" My eyes travel across her body; my thoughts lace with desire as my hand begins moving again, higher, until I finally reach my destination, her breast. "Either I've been away too long, Scully, or pregnancy has made you bigger in other places." "The way I see it, I'm not the only one expanding." She muses, her pupils darkening as her hand slips to my groin, cupping my penis, teasing it. I carefully reposition myself beside her, then gently take the hem of her shirttail and lift the t-shit slowly over her head, my eyes practically blinded by the beauty that is revealed before me. Without haste, I strip off my boxers and nuzzle closer to her, my cock touching her, her breasts pressing against my chest. "Mulder, you know we can't do anything right now. Well, actually, I as a doctor know that it isn't going to harm the baby, but I don't want to take any chances. I did have problems during the pregnancy." She whispers, groaning in my ear as my fingers brush against her sensitive nipples. I stop suddenly, afraid that I might hurt her. "Are you okay?" I ask, my mind flickers back to the comment Skinner had made last night about Scully's health. I am reminded of his indication that we should both take it easy, give us both time to heal. "Yes, of course I am. I haven't had any complications for a while now, but at the same time, I don't want them to come back either. At this stage during the pregnancy, stimulation could cause premature contractions and I've got to keep him as safe as possible until the right time for him comes." She looks up at me, and my concern for her must be evident in my own expression, because suddenly I am being held tightly against her breast and her hands are in my hair and she is murmuring into my ear, "I'm ok, Mulder, I promise you this. Having you home is the best medicine, and I just want you close to me. At this moment I am the happiest I have been at any point of my life. The two most important things in my life are within me and beside me." We are silent for a while within our embrace, listening to ourselves breathe, and a few stray tears are shed. I turn my body slightly, my back to her, as she starts sliding her hand down my naked back, and brush against my backside. "Of course, Mulder," she whispers lazily, "It doesn't stop me from touching you," melting her body against mine as her hand continues to glide up and down. "It's okay, Scully, you don't have to." I gasp, turning my body toward her again, my groin begins its rhythmic dance against her. "I want to." Scully cuts me off, planting a red-hot kiss across my mouth, her lips crushing against mine with urgency, our tongues exploring, colliding together. At Scully's firmness I worked on setting the guilt aside, my eyelids falling shut, as my breath becomes shallower and faster. Scully's mouth moves down my neck, as her hand strokes rhythmically against me. I am totally at her mercy. Images of Scully, my love, flood my mind, her tiny, swollen body selflessly pressing against me, loving me with every part of her being, her soul. Only giving, offering asking nothing in return except for my own gasps of pleasure and gratification, sending me over the edge into a blinding white light, strong arms holding me during my shudders of ecstasy, riding out the waves with me. + + + Time passes both slowly and quickly. Days turn into weeks, and with each passing day, I am stronger and a bit less fearful. Scully and I take turns staying at each other's apartment. We are rarely apart, and have no wish to be apart. We enjoy each other's company, and I have time to re-acquaint myself with who I used to be. I also cannot keep my hands away from Scully's ever-widening waistline, much to her amusement. Frohike, Langly and Byers were ecstatic at the news of my return, between emails and phone calls, I thought they would drive us crazy. The three gave me quick lessons in the he he's and ha ha's of breathing correctly during labor, so that I would be useful to Scully when the birth of our baby happened. They brought me books and a doll with disposable diapers to teach me how to change diapers. I never thought I'd see the day when Frohike appeared at my door with a baby-doll in his arms, but Scully continued to watch us from the background, a genuine smile curled on her lips. Surprisingly, Skinner was worse then they were; visiting nearly every day, making sure that we were all right. One Sunday morning, he and the 3 stooges completely caught us off guard when they arrived with a complete baby furniture set; everything from a crib and a bassinet to a whole crib bedding and clothing. Scully would only smile until she unwrapped a gift with receiving blankets designed with the image of ET. Scully and I cherish each waking hour and snuggle and talk each evening until exhaustion hits us and we drift into a good night's sleep together. Always together. Every evening, right before nightfall, I have developed a ritual of standing next to my bedroom window, looking up at the night sky filled with tiny white pinpoints, trying to imagine where I spent six months of my life. I whisper softly against the windowpane, my warm breath fogging against the glass as I give Omra and Nastro my heartfelt thanks. I will forever be indebted to them for my survival, my freedom and most of all for the chance to live in utter happiness with Scully, to love her, to see my child take its first breath in this world. The memory of Omra and Nastro's kindness, of selfless determination to help another being different from them, to break their own rules and possibly alienate them from their own race, will stay in my heart forever. Scully is getting bigger with every passing day. While most days she is sweet and loving, irresistible to be hugged every two seconds, there are days when her hormones play havoc with her personality. She is not one to be crossed, if I don't follow the straight and narrow or pamper her cravings, she bites my head off. But that is okay, I love Scully in any mood. I cherish every single moment with her. I know what it is like not to be able to see her daily, to hold her nightly, to argue with her, to watch her try to eat at the dining table. I cannot bear to think of that time now, that six-month period where she wasn't available to me. Christmas comes with surprises from Skinner, Frohike, Langly, Byers and Mrs. Scully. They know that Scully is too big, she tires easily and just doesn't feel like going anywhere, and I am still not yet 100%. I still have violent nightmares. I am still too skinny, and I tire easily. Scully and I are the perfect couple in this. They arrive with a small tree and gifts for our baby and us. The five decide to place bets on the day and time of our baby's birth. Scully and I just sit back enjoying every minute of their antics and especially basking in the rare feeling of family closeness. Scully and I have not had much of that in our lives recently, and it is another moment for me to cherish. Although sex was out of the question, our lovemaking was still in full force, well, the foreplay is as far as we get, but we make the most of it. We have made a pact that as soon as the doctor gave the okay; we'd mad dash it home and tear at each other like bunny rabbits. We inform the gang that New Years Day has special meaning for us, and that we'd really like to be alone. I purchase sparkling cider and two champagne glasses, and our New Year's celebration included a toast to our new life together while being bare-ass naked on our bed, sipping the cider. The clock rings its twelve dings, and we kiss, but this time it isn't an innocent shy kiss like we had shared a year ago, but a full-on, tongue adventure kiss. Well, I think that my electrifying kisses sparked her hormones because at 2 in the morning she starts her contractions, which scares the shit out of me. I can still vividly remember the dream I had in the spacecraft, and I was not about to repeat that scene. This time, I am going to make it to the hospital in plenty of time. When she mentions taking a shower before going to the hospital, I voice my concerns, but Scully is not one to cross, and especially not between teeth clenching, hand squeezing contractions. I sit on the toilet with a stopwatch and inform her I was giving her 5 minutes to wash up and if she isn't ready, I will drag her butt-naked down to the car. If I had a police alarm on my car I would have used it and heaven help any cop that stopped my 90-mile an hour drive to the hospital. I was on a mission. Just as I remembered from my dream. I was not going to deliver our baby in the back seat of the car while a cop walks up, reprimanding us like two teenagers for being in the mist of passion. The guys taught me well in the remaining days before the birth, because, well, not to brag or anything, but I am a damn good coach. With every contraction I am there, he'ing and ha ha'ing with her. Except for a couple of, 'I hate you's' and 'you get that penis next to me and I'll kill you,' everything turns out fine. I know my penis is in jeopardy as that phrase was mentioned in my dream as well. Eight hours of hard labor and our beautiful little baby son is delivered. I am overwhelmed by the tiny baby that I hold, wet and bloody and squirming in my arms. His peach fuzz hair is auburn color just like Scully's. The couple of times that he pries his eyes open, they look hazel like mine. And his feet, ah, big like mine, what a man!!! I am so proud. I am also so very proud of Scully and tell her so, kissing her sweaty face as often as she will let me. I am the proudest papa in the nursery, holding my son, walking him back and forth until he falls asleep in my arms. Every few hours, I place him on top of his mommy so she can nurse him. During this, I can only sit there in awe at the beauty in front of me. An exhausted Scully lies back against a mound of fluffy pillows, holding our baby with one hand, the other holding the breast up, her second and third finger positioning her nipple correctly, helping our baby suckle her nipple. The quiet sucking sound is music to my ears. She is released two days later and I proudly accompany my glowing, amazing partner, my love and now the mother of my child, home. Although her place is bigger than mine is, we decide to settle the baby in my apartment for the time being, until decisions have been made. All of the items that Skinner and the Lone Gunmen have given us were in my place, and neither of us are in the mood to try and transport a baby crib and other necessities over to Scully's. Our baby was born on January 1, 2001, the real starting date of the new Millennium, I remind Scully as we wait for the elevator at my apartment building. "No one likes a geek," she chuckles to me, reminding me of my comment just over a year ago, where later that same day we had shared our first kiss as the new year broadcast had grabbed our attention. As I think back to that day, I have a sudden epiphany. As I stand here besides her, looking down at her, and watch Scully cuddle our baby, I remember Frank Black's comment on why he had refused to help us on that case. His reasoning was to do with his daughter, and that he had almost lost her due to his obsession with conspiracies and the end of the world. I wonder if I will end up losing everything, or that I would be accused of being an unfit father, because of my beliefs. Scully interrupts my thoughts with "No, Mulder. It won't be like that for you." I glance back at her, surprised and wonder how she knows what I am thinking. She smiles ruefully at me over the downy head of our son. "I could follow your thoughts through the expression on your face, Mulder. You were thinking of Frank Black. You forgot one thing, Mulder. You have me. I'll always watch your back. I won't let your path follow in the same vein. You are not working alone, and you never will be." God, I love this woman. She hands me the baby as the elevator doors open. Scully and I step into the elevator, the hospital-issue diaper bag in her hands, our new son in mine. As the doors sponge together, a hand pokes through the tiny opening, a couple close to our age quickly steps inside. "Fourth floor," the lady indicates with a nod of her chin, her arms laden with bundles and bags. "Are you visiting someone in the apartment complex?" I ask them. "No, we just moved in yesterday. We're in apartment 40," the gentleman answers me. "We're neighbors, we're in apartment 42. I'm Fox Mulder, but please call me Mulder, and this is Dana Scully," I say to them. "Pleasure meeting you. I'm Mr. Nastroma, but you can call me Joe and this is my wife Kristen." "New parents, I see," Mrs. Nastroma asks, gently touching the baby blanket and taking a peek at our baby. "Yes, he was born two days ago, he's beautiful, isn't he?" I tell them, pride bouncing in my words. I find myself smiling widely every time there is a mention of my child. "Ah, a proud papa," Mr. Nastroma smiles, turning to Scully. "Beautiful.male or female?" "Baby boy," Scully answers a smile of pride showing on her face. "Well, we hope to see you around, and congratulations," Kristen smiles in response. "Yes, congratulations." Joe adds in agreement as the elevator doors open, letting them out onto the fourth floor. Joe places his arm across Kristen's shoulders as they head toward their apartment and enter. "They seem very nice," I comment as we pass by their closed door. "Scully, I feel like I know them from somewhere, but I can't pinpoint where I've seen them before," I mention as I take one more glance at their door before unlocking the door of my own apartment. "We've been on a number of cases, Mulder, and we've met a lot of people on the way. Maybe they just resemble someone we've spoken with before." Scully rationalizes as she moves to the couch, delicately sitting down as she grips the armrest for support. I wait for her to get comfortable, then give her our child to nurse. For some unknown reason I feel compelled to walk to the window by my computer and look outside. It is only midday, but I need to look up in the sky, remembering the tiny white stars I had grown familiar with during my nightly vigils, the beams of light still there, simply hidden behind the sun's overpowering rays. A strong sensation suddenly comes over me, and I am unsure if it has to do with the excitement of our son's birth, or something else I can identify but I want to cry. I stand there, silently for about five minutes, before moving back to sit with Scully. "What's the matter, Mulder?" She asks me. "I don't know, Scully, I almost feel anxious, something unknown eating at the back of my mind. Must be the excitement of our child, my little family." I muse as I settle back, pulling Scully against me so that I can hold them both. Contentment is the universal relaxant, and soon all three of us are asleep. About two hours later, there is a light tap on the door. At first I think it is either Skinner, the Lone Gunmen or Mrs. Scully, since they had been constant visitors over the last couple of months. "I wonder who it could be." I joke with a twinge of sarcasm as I make my way toward the door, sensing Scully's amused smile behind me. "Mr. Nastroma and Mrs. Nastroma," I say out loud so that Scully can discretely put her breast away. After all, that was only for immediate family and friends to see, including my son and myself, I muse. "Please, just Joe and Kristy," the couple admonish. "We wanted to bring you a present for your child. We are new to the area, and don't have any family or friends close by. We want to be neighborly, but we didn't know a good store to get something appropriate. We had this for many years, and we thought it would be a nice present for your son." Joe tells me, handing me a box wrapped in blue paper. "Thank you, we appreciate the thought. Please come in," I offer politely, but they both decline the offer, making amends about how they had somewhere to be. So I nod in understanding and shut the door as they walked away. I carry the package over to Scully who is watching me with curiosity. I can't help but feel touched by the generosity of the two strangers. I take the envelope first, pulling the card out. It is a simple white card with a picture of a gorgeous baby on the cover, the embossed words reading 'Believe in Miracles'. The words give me a light chill; again I can't explain it. I open it up and continue to read: 'The miracle of deep love, Comes only once in a lifetime. From that love, A miracle child is born. Treasure him.' The card is signed by Kristy and Joe. "Looks like you are fortunate to have a great set of neighbors, Mulder." Scully says, leaning across me to see the card. "Wow, that's beautiful." "The words are meaningful, aren't they?" I comment absentmindedly as I tear the box open, my fingers running across the cool glass of a snow globe. I lift it carefully from the box. "That brings back memories." Scully grins. I smile with her, as we study the deep blue base of the gift, my eyes focus on a tiny plastic couple inside the watery dome, two forms in a loving embrace their lips engaged in a melting kiss. Right next to them is a small child; its arms wrapped around one leg of each parent. The backdrop of the globe is painted like a night sky, tiny stars painted amongst the blackness. I give the globe a gentle shake in my palm, the fluttering white flakes dance around the figures like shooting stars. I am mesmerized by the scene. "What a nice present. Mulder, maybe you should go and thank them; maybe tell them that when I'm up and about we'll invite them for dinner." I agree and stand up, placing the card and globe on the table. I bend down to kiss Scully's forehead; my son looks up at me and gurgles, waving his little chubby hands toward me. "You get a kiss too," I smile, "I'll be back in a bit." I open the front door and with my first step into the hallway, an object flutters at my feet, as the breeze from the opening door lifts it away from its position. I notice it is a white envelope, possibly left at my doorstep. I quickly look right and left confirming the hallway is completely empty except for the envelope and me. Looking down again, I feel a bit hesitant at collecting the envelope, wondering if it will lead me away from my family into another horrific experience. Then I hear Scully laughing and the baby begins laughing that tiny little chuckle that only babies can do, and I realize it doesn't matter what is in the envelope, because I have Scully by my side. Scully will keep me on the right path. With this thought, I eagerly bend down and pick it up; ripping through the glued top to pull out a paper that instantly makes my blood turn cold. Blood drains from my head as it pumps wildly through my fingers my body dizzy and my back slams hard against the wall behind me as I lose my balance. My eyes are skirting across the words at lightening speed. The words familiar, haunting me, reminding me of a past I thought I had left behind. Dear Scully, It has been nearly a month since I have seen you, confined in these four white walls, not a picture, a window, just whiteness that blends the walls and floor together. A small bed ... It was the letter I had written on the ship. My heart is pounding; I don't know what to think. My first instinct is that they have found me again, that they were here to take me back, but no, the only one that knew about this letter was Omra. I close the door to my apartment and stand in the hallway, paralyzed, my mind traveling a million miles a minute. Even Nastro didn't know about the letter. I fold the paper back in the envelope and I hold it against my chest, against Scully's necklace that still hangs around my neck. I glance again to the right and my eyes stop at the number 40 down the hall. A strong urge washes over me, an almost pulling sensation, a nagging sensation to go to apartment 40 and speak to the new couple. I slowly walk to their door. I hesitate at first and then knock. Instantly, the door opens and there stands Kristen, a tiny woman, possibly no taller then 5'1 inches tall. She looks at the letter clasped tightly within my fist, and smiles at me, tears shining in her eyes. "I missed you, Fox." My chest starts and falling with shallow breaths, my heart drums loudly in my ribcage, I want to scream at the top of my lungs with joy, "Omra, I thought you were dead!" "Yes, my son, it is I.. Please come in." Omra responds casually, stepping back as an invitation. I pause for a moment, staring at Omra in wonderment before I walk in. I look around, wondering what kind of furnishing they have, which is silly of me, what did I expect, utilitarian furniture. Coming from the bedroom, Mr. Nastroma comes into view. "Nastro Omra, Nastroma," I say out loud, bursting out in laughter. I can't believe I didn't pick up on it before. Scully does that to me these days; her presence distracts me perpetually. I rush to Omra and hug her, lifting her off the floor and holding her tightly. "Wow, son, you're going to squeeze my innards out," she teases. "And what kind of innards are they, human or alien?" I tease back, very pleased to see my friend. Nastro looks at me and smiles. "But how, what happened, God, I thought you both died." My words ramble out. Omra takes my hand and leads me to the couch, ndicating to me to sit down. "My son, I needed to go back to the spacecraft to retrieve something. Everything was in chaos; the guards and heads of the craft were in complete uproar. I went to your quarters first and found your letter, and then I had to make one more stop," she tells me, leaning forward to pick up a small box covered with a black lid. She hands me the box and smiles. "This is also your present." My expression is puzzled, and my hands are shaking as I lift the lid slowly. Inside the box are vials, eight vials in total. I remove one from its nestled position and look at a white cloudy liquid. I furrow my eyebrows, still bewildered. "I don't understand," I say to them. "You don't know what it is? Fox, son, I needed to go back and take all the specimens of sperm they extracted from you. The look on your face stayed in my memory, the sad expression you had when you looked at the children at play, the hybrids. At that moment, I knew I had to do something. I didn't want you to father any hybrids. You were already going to be a father to a baby that was conceived out of love, as it should be. I had to go back and destroy them. I somehow managed to get the vials and was able to escape. The ship exploded just minutes after I escaped. The force of the explosion threw me up against a tree and I must have passed out." Omra turned to Nastro and reached out for his hand "When I awoke, Nastro was standing over me. He helped me back to the cave where he said he took the tracking device out. In fact, we were hiding behind a rock when you and the bald one went into the cave. I wanted to comfort you. I do want to assure you the sperm in the vials are not any good. They needed to be in a safe environment, and once out, the sperm is dead." I can't believe what I am hearing. If I didn't have the letter in one hand and the vials in my other, I don't think I could believe that Omra and Nastro had survived. I scoot close to her and take her in my arms and start to cry, releasing sobs of joy. I owed my life to these two people; I owed my life to Scully. Everything that was important to me, everything that I wanted and loved was on the floor of this apartment building. After all the years of misfortune and pain I had experienced, my life is complete. "So, what are you now, alien or human?" I tease. "And whose identity did you steal?" I continued to joke. "I don't think there is a Nastroma in this world, and as for the names, I liked the name Kristen and Nastro liked Joe--nice names, friendly and loving names, wouldn't you say." I smile for a second and then a wave of fear overwhelms me and I need to ask, but they seem to have read my mind. "No, they will not find us, do not worry, we took precautions. We would never have endangered your life, or the life of your lover and your baby. We are here on Earth for the duration and I needed to be close to you, my son. Boalta was taken from me, but you will not be taken. I will take care of you for the rest of your life. Nastro and I will make sure of that," Omra states firmly. I gaze at them both for awhile, giving my thoughts a chance to stabilize. There is so much to absorb. "Nastro, I still have the satchel. I still have the rod. Even though they represented pain and humiliation. I kept them, and hid them at home. They signify something which I don't yet fully understand," I explain. Nastro nods. "It is OK to save them. They may be useful in the future. We may have lost one ship, but there are many more. They will be back, and knowing there is one tool I can use pleases me. We have a quest of our own now, Omra and I, to delay and possibly destroy the colonization process that my race was adamant in achieving. Omra and I are a formidable team. We work well together. Who would have guessed it, my dear," he quips turning to Omra. "We are a good team, you and I." Omra replies fondly. Turning back to me, she pushes at my arm. "Now, isn't it time to go back to your family?" he insists. I smile at her as I stand, then turn to face Nastro. He embraces me with the same emotion that Omra has done. They walk me to the door and bid their farewells. I get halfway up the hallway when I hear Omra's final response as they close their door. "Hey, Fox, you look nice with clothes on, but I really liked seeing that nice naked body of yours." My face reddens as I shut the door behind me, but I am still smiling. "You were gone for awhile, did you thank them? Scully asks me as I collapse onto the couch next to her. She is rubbing moisturize onto the baby's skin, it appears she bathed him in my absence. I pick up the tiny set of clothes that lie beside us and hand them to her. She looks up at me at this point and notices my swollen eyes, "Mulder, what happened, why were you crying?" I put my hands in my pocket and pull out the letter and vial. Her confusion is evident in the expression on her face, as she hands me our baby and takes the letter from my hand. I cuddle my child to my chest as I watch Scully open the letter and starts to read. "Mulder, I don't understand, where did you get this, or did you have this with you? Did you write it while you were missing? I put my free hand around her neck, to pull her close to me, and kiss her. A long loving kiss, I love you, Scully, and the gift you have given me," I tell her, looking down at our sleeping child on my lap. "Scully, you will never believe this. I have a story to tell you," I begin, as Scully wraps herself around me and we grasp hands around our child. The End Note: This was a very long and strenuous story for me to write and I thank so very much for all who helped me and encouraged me to finish. This was a labor of love for me and I hope everyone enjoyed it - hope it wasn't tooooooo sappy.. ? ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Feedback please - but be kind, I'm a Pisces and emotional CorrineLS@socal.rr.com ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~