From: Linda Caniano Date: Sat, 3 Mar 2001 10:45:04 -0800 (PST) Subject: No Subject Provided Source: direct Title: His Return Author: Licani Rating: G Classification: S/R Spoilers: Requiem Keywords: none Summary: With Doggitt's help, Mulder is returned. Author notes: I have been working on this story for months, so please comments and suggestions welcome (good bad or indifferent) Licani01@yahoo.com Chapter 1 Assistant Director Walter Skinner remained awed about what he'd seen on the night Mulder went missing. It was some kind of poetic justice: all those years of not believing, gone in one moment in time. Skinner was logical. He was used to believing in himself, in what he saw and in what he understood. Since that night in Belle Fleur, he wasn't sure anymore. He knew what he saw; at least he thought he did, and what he saw went against everything he had always believed. Scully had been right when she'd told him not to say anything about the alien ship. It would put his position as A.D. in jeopardy. So he didn't at first, but slowly the truth won out. The comments and snide remarks soon followed: "Poor guy, finally fell off the deep end," and "been hanging around those two crazies from the basement too long," were only two in a long list of jibes. His position at the Bureau was becoming tenuous, but he couldn't help what he saw. It was close to three, no make that four, months since it happened, and they were no closer to finding Mulder then they had been the day it happened. There were no leads to follow up, nobody to interview. There was just the sight of a ship--if that's what it was, slowly rising from the ground, and then gone. All he could do was hope, and even pray, that Mulder was alive and would be returned. In the meantime, he had other problems, like what to do with the X-Files. He had thought that the X-Files were his province, but Deputy Director Kersh quickly put that idea to rest. With no consultation, Kersh appointed John Doggitt to direct the Bureau's efforts to find Mulder. Doggitt was fairly new to the Bureau, a veteran of the New York City PD, with an advanced degree in Criminal Justice, and he was Kersh's boy. What better way to keep tabs on crazy people? Kersh flaunted his superior status. Without consultation, he made John Doggitt Scully's new partner. In spite of this, Skinner felt sorry for Doggitt and even sorrier for Scully, but as long as Kersh remained certain that Doggitt was "his" man, Skinner knew that Kersh's attention would be diverted from the X Files leaving him at least some authority over what went on there, but Skinner would have to stay watchful as long as Doggitt remained an unknown. His next problem was what to do with Agent Scully. He was completely overwhelmed by the utter despair he saw on her face day after day. He felt somewhat responsible for Mulder's abduction, although he didn't know what he could have done differently. He had promised Scully that they would find him, but as the days, and weeks passed, it became less likely that it would happen. And now, no matter when he saw her, she looked so incredibly sad, so tragic, and he was unable to do anything about it. Even as he contemplated this, he knew he had a more pressing problem: what to do about Scully's pregnancy. Right now he was the only one privy to this information, but he knew that that wouldn't last too much longer. He guessed she was just over four months now, and would probably begin to show soon. He was happy that doctors had been proved wrong, and that she was indeed capable of bearing a child. While he believed it was not his business to ask Agent Scully about her private life, he couldn't help but be concerned for her well-being, and he wanted to ensure that this special agent would deliver a healthy baby. He had requested her presence in his office at 2 PM; it was now 1:45, and he still didn't know what he would say to her. At five minutes till two, his secretary buzzed, "Agent Scully to see you, sir." "Send her in please." Scully looked drawn, thinner than before her pregnancy, but the slight bulge at her abdomen assured him that her pregnancy was progressing. "Agent Scully," he began. It was odd that after all these years of being her boss, he still never called her Dana. Mulder never called her Dana either. "Agent Scully, I think we need to discuss your health." "I'm fine, sir. Fine. There really isn't anything to discuss." 'That's not what I mean, Agent. We need to discuss your pregnancy." "I am fine, sir, and fully capable of carrying out my duties as a field agent." "No, you're not Agent Scully. You are a liability as a field agent, and I want you to accept a temporary desk assignment. I want you out of the field until your child is delivered The Bureau can use your medical expertise at Quantico until then. You can teach; you can autopsy, but be sure Agent, I want you out of the field for the duration." "No, sir, I cannot be removed from the X files. It is where I need to be; it's where I belong." "Listen, agent" he hesitated. "Listen, Dana. You need to think about your baby now. I know how much you miss Mulder. I see it in your face every time I look at you, but for now you have to put this other life ahead of that. You cannot continue to traipse around the country following-up on leads that go nowhere. If you value this other life, then you have to see my reasons for your transfer." "That is low, sir. You know I want this baby more than anything, but I can't. I just can't step back now. I need to find him. I need to know that I have done everything possible to get him back. She hesitated briefly, "he needs to know ...," she choked. "Sir, I need to find him." "Dana, you owe it to yourself to think of your baby first. Mulder would want that and, and ..., " he stopped. Though he had no proof, no substantial reason to assume so, he did believe that Mulder was the father of Scully's unborn child, and because of this there was the thought that this child may well be all that is left of Fox Mulder. "Please! Please don't remove me from the X Files; you can't, not now," she pleaded. She felt no need to explain. Besides what could she really say: she and Mulder weren't lovers. Despite rumors, they weren't together like that. My god, she thought, I don't even have that. And she abruptly left Skinner's office to retreat to her office in the basement. Skinner leaned back in his chair. He would have to leave her in place for at least for a little while longer. He owed her that, but he would monitor her. He owed her that, too. Chapter 2 It will always be Mulder's office, she thought while the elevator descended. As she entered the office, she saw John Doggitt at the new desk she'd had brought in. When he'd been assigned to the X-files, he had asked where her desk was, looking to take her space, and she confessed that she really didn't have one. After their first case she'd had one brought in. She sat at Mulder's. This, too, would always be Mulder's. Once she had gotten over the discomfort of having Doggitt there, she was a little relieved: it could have been worse. He really tried hard to understand, and he was scrupulously honest. He called it the way he saw it, and damn the consequences. While he was skeptical about the paranormal, he wasn't as hidebound as she had once been. And to his credit, he had covered her back more than once. "Hi,' he said as she entered the office. Funny, she thought, he still doesn't call me anything--no name. "Hi, John," she replied. Now why did I do that; she thought, I've never called him John before. John Doggitt simply froze for the moment. Her calling him John seemed to break one of their first rules: no first names. "How was your meeting with Skinner? What did he want? " "Just to go over some old files. He needed me to explain a couple of things; that's all," she lied. What else could she tell him. She wasn't ready for the entire Bureau to know her business. She wasn't ready to explain. "Hey, you got a message. Somebody called. Let me see. Ah, here it is. Christine Houghton. She wants you to call her back; here's the number." Doggitt handed her a scrap of paper with the name and number on it. "She says it's important. Do you know her," and then after a slight pause, he added, "Dana." Scully's head snapped up. She wasn't used to hearing her first name in this office. Mulder never ... . "Geez, Christine Houghton and I went to school together, high school. Then we both went to the same college. She dropped out after a year. I wonder what she wants; I wonder how she found me?" Scully slowly sat down at her desk, deciding whether or not she wanted to call the woman who knew her so many years ago. "Thanks." Sometime later when Agent Doggitt left for a meeting, she considered again the call she was about to make. She and Christine hadn't really been friends; basically they were just two people who had been in the same class. Then later, away at college, Christine was just a familiar face, someone to say hi to on a campus full of strangers. What could she possibly want? Well, she thought, I'll never know unless I call. After several rings, an answering machine picked-up and repeated the number that Scully had just dialed. "Hi, Christine, this is Dana Scully. I got your message and I am returning your call." With that Christine Houghton picked up the phone. "Hi, Dana. This is Christine." "Christine, I can't tell you how surprised I am to hear from you. How on earth did you track me down?" With no preamble, no amenities, Christine replied, "Dana, I really need to see you. I live just outside of DC; could you stop by my house today or tomorrow? It would really mean a lot to me." Chapter 3 The sun had set, and by 7 o'clock, the temperature took a sharp downturn. It was very cool for mid-October when Scully pulled up in front of Christine Houghton's house. The porch light was on, and the door opened as soon as she rang the bell. "Dana, thank you so much for coming. Please come in. Would you like some coffee; have you had dinner? Let me get you something." "I'm fine, really Christine. Don't bother." Reconsidering, she added, "But, a cup of tea would be nice." Christine walked off to the kitchen, filled the kettle and set it on the stove. Scully took the time to look around the living room. On the end table there were pictures of Christine, a man--probably her husband, and a small child. The living room showed no evidence of a youngster living in the house. The house was completely quiet. "So what's up, Chris? What's been happening since you left school? I am really surprised you called." "You were pretty easy to track down, Dana. I had heard some time ago that you joined the FBI I just called the DC office and told them I had some information for Agent Dana Scully. That wasn't too hard. The hard part was getting the nerve to do it at all." Dana smiled at her encouragingly, wanting her to get on with the reason for the call. "We moved here about three years ago. I married after I left college. That was actually the reason I left. Jason was a senior when I met him, and when he graduated that spring, I, well, I just thought marriage was more important in those days. As it turned out, we had a wonderful life, a wonderful three years." Dana could almost see Christine withdraw into herself just for a split second, and then she was back. "He and our son were killed in a car accident three weeks after we moved here. Kevin was only eighteen months old." "I am so sorry, Christine. I didn't know." "It's OK, Dana, nobody knew. For a while I didn't know if I'd make it. But now, well, every day is a little bit easier for me. They were my world, but eventually I was able to climb out of the despair, and just go on. I know that's what they'd want me to do." Chris seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. Yes, thought Dana, there was a sadness about Christine that Dana could recognize, and her own thoughts rested briefly on Emily. She knew that for Chris it had to have been worse. Taking a deep breath, Christine started, "Dana, do you remember me in junior high?" "Well, we weren't friends in junior high. Actually I don't remember much about you at all. You were just the blonde kid who was in some of my classes. I do remember that you were pretty smart, but that you were out a lot," Scully answered hesitantly. "I just don't know where to begin," Chris stated. With that the kettle began to whistle, and Christine excused herself to prepare the tea. Returning from the kitchen, Christine started again, "Dana, I really don't know where to begin. I don't even know if you'll believe me." "Look, Chris, just start. You called me, found me. What is it?" "When I was a kid, about four or five, I would see things. God, that sounds so stupid, but I don't know how else to say it. I would see people no one else could see. It wasn't frightening or anything like that, it just was. They would talk and I would hear them, even though I couldn't answer them. I'd see a little boy playing or a man holding a baby,. I would try to talk to them. My mother thought it was just a childhood game. You know, the imaginary friend thing, but Dana, they were as real to me as you are right now." Dana reached over, picked up her tea and slowly drank. Where was Christine headed with this? Not for the first time today Dana thought of Mulder. This sounded like something he would grab onto. Oh God, Mulder where are you, she thought. "It became less often as I grew, but when I hit puberty, the visions came back, and they were much stronger. It wasn't just people any more, it was places and events. Sometimes I had difficulty knowing what was real and what was vision. And even the visions--I didn't know whether what I was seeing was that was happening then, or whether it had happened or if it was going to happen. All through high school they disrupted my life; that's why I was out of school so much. I wasn't physically sick; I was just a nut case. But Dana, the visions were real. They were always real. And I didn't know what to do about them." "So, what are you telling me, Chris? Are you still having visions?" "Dana, I am just going to say this right out because I don't know any other way. For the last, oh, maybe ten weeks, I have been waking up in the middle of the night. I am panicked, and in a cold sweat because someone is calling your name. Not Dana, just Scully." "I'm not the only Scully in the world, just check the DC phone book, there must be fifty Scullys listed." "I was not dreaming. It wasn't a dream! Scully's response had made Christine a little uncomfortable. Why indeed had she called Dana Scully? Christine was certain that the Scully this person was calling was Dana Scully, her one-time classmate. "I know, Dana. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but I do know he is calling you. I don't know how I know, but I know." Christine continued, "this person, this man is in trouble. He is terrified, but I don't know why. I can bearly see him, but I hear him, and it is your name he is screaming. It is you he needs Dana, you have to go to him; you have to find him." Dana felt the tightness in her chest build. What if it were true, what if Chris did have some psychic connection to Mulder? What if ... ? "Christine, what else can you tell me? Where is he? What else can you see?" Christine sighed. She had hoped that Dana would believe her, but she was unprepared for the intensity of emotion she felt from her. She hoped that her lack of answers would not make Dana more skeptical. What was there to go on; she had no place, no time; she had nothing, just a man desperately screaming. "Dana, I don't know. Can you tell me anything that might help me to interpret what I see? Maybe if I knew more about him I'd be able to see more. Right now, I just know that he needs you," Chris was at a loss about how to proceed. "These visions are incredibly vivid, but missing in so much detail. I hear him, but I can't really see him. It is all shadows and glare. Dana, I don't know why or how, but I know I, no, we have to save him." Dana didn't know what to say or how much to say. She desperately wanted to believe that Christine was able to hear Mulder. How else would she have known to call her, but Dana also knew that the scientist in her had doubts, and so far, there was nothing to do. There were still no leads to follow, and no place to start searching. For some time Dana just sat there. Finally she decided that there was no point in staying. "Chris, I am going to leave now. I need to digest the things you told me. I need a little time. Please call me if anything new happens. You have no idea of the impact you have had on me tonight. I'll contact you by the weekend if I don't hear from you" With that Dana Scully got up to leave. On impulse, she hugged Christine and was about to tell her that everything would turn out all right... "Dana, you're pregnant! Why didn't you say something? Oh, Dana, he'll be back." "I have to go, Christine. I'll call you." With that Special Agent Dana Scully fled to her car. Chapter 4 Scully rifled through her pocketbook looking for her house keys. It seemed to be the her curse that her keys would always be at the very bottom of her handbag. As she let herself in, all the thoughts that she had refused to entertain on the drive home descended on. "How" seemed to top the list: how did Christine know about her pregnancy? Up until that point, Dana had been capable of dismissing Christine's visions as hallucinations or guesses stemming from some, some ... whatever. While she wanted desperately to believe Christine had a psychic connection to Mulder, it was such a stretch. Again "how" could this be; there was no connection between any them, nothing other than the past acquaintance between her and Christine, and no known connection between Christine and Mulder. To the best of her knowledge they had never met, had never even been aware of each other. Nothing seemed to fit, there were no neat rows and columns to add up, no scientific reason to explain Christine's visions. The ringing of the telephone caught her up short; "Scully," she answered. "Agent Scully, John Doggitt here." "What can I do for you, John?" Again with the first name, what had gotten into her, she mused. "Uh, Dana, I just wanted you to know that I'll be in a little late tomorrow. I have some business I need to take care of on my way in. I should be there by ten or so." "OK, sure. I'll cover for you, if I need to." He really wasn't a bad guy, thought Dana. They had just gotten off on the wrong foot. Despite misrepresenting himself to her that first day, since then he had been scrupulously honest both with her and in reporting their cases, even to the point of allowing himself to be ridiculed for his case reports. She was used to the comments field reports from the X-files earned, but he just didn't understand how anyone could doubt the truth in his observations. John Doggitt was accurate to a fault, and would never think of falsifying or omitting anything from his field report even if it cost him his credibility. She hesitated a fraction of a second before continuing, "By the way, John, I met with my friend, Christine, last night." She was unsure why she was telling him this, but it felt right. Possibly he could provide a fresh perspective, maybe even the support she so desperately needed. "Maybe tomorrow we can discuss it--she may have some information about Mulder." Special Agent John Doggitt was completely taken aback by her words . Something strange was going on here; Dana Scully was just too matter-of-fact with this statement. If she had anything to go on, anything at all, she would have been out the door, in her car, on a train, on a plane, on a bus to wherever there was a chance of finding Mulder. He wondered briefly just how far beyond the partner stage their relationship had progressed, but this was her private life and had nothing to do with X-files or any other files that they might be involved in. Mulder, on the other hand, had now been missing for four months, and it was still his job to find him. Scully's sleep was fitful at best, but at least she was sleeping. As Skinner had so forcefully pointed out, she did have another life to consider. So she ate regularly and she slept as best as she could, and she tried to imagine the life she nurtured. It would have been perfect if Mulder hadn't been missing, but he was, and she had to face the fact that in spite of her best efforts, he might never come back. The Bureau had, in effect, just put his case on a back burner. She couldn't blame them; there was nothing to go on. She prayed for him, and begged God to keep him safe, to return him to her, but most of all to protect him from harm. It was all that she could do. Christine's words replayed in her mind. She redoubled her prayer for her partner, "please, please God, take care of him." Chapter 5 The halls of the FBI building were a warren of activity between 8 and 9 o'clock. People entering their offices, then leaving again to get that last cup of coffee before the day officially began, it didn't matter to Special Agent Scully; she was alone. She descended to her office, but as she pulled out her keys, she realized that the office door was already unlocked. John Doggitt sat at his desk. "Hi, I didn't expect you to be here yet." "Slight change in plans. I'll probably take care of it at lunch time, so if you don't mind... " "Sure, no problem. By the way, I'd like to talk to you about the meeting I had with my friend, Christine." "Yeah, sure. You said she might know something about Mulder. What gives with that?" Scully recounted most of the discussion she had with Christine last night. She left out any mention of personal matters. That would just have to wait for the time being. "So what do you think," she inquired. "I don't know what to think. You know her. Do you think there is any way she could be making this up? Why would she come to you; she couldn't possibly know anything about Mulder, could she?" "Honestly I don't know what to think. She was never a friend; we were just above acquaintances, and that was simply because we were in the same place at the same time for so many years. Truly, I don't think she could be making this up; but what has she actually told us? Nothing, nothing that will help us find him." Doggitt had to agree that there was nothing useful in what he had been told, and he wondered why she'd even told him. "Do you think it would help if I went to see her. You know not having a past with her might leave her more open to ... I don't know, just talk about her visions. You know, Dana, there may be some basis of truth in what she has seen. Judging by what I've read about ESP, there is definite proof of its existence. Studies have been done that corroborate the use of so-called sensitive people in police investigations involving mission persons. Now if you don't think that there is any other way that she would know about Mulder's disappearance, then it might be worth a shot to work with her for a while." Dana was surprised by Doggitt's comment. He sounded so, so X Files-ish. It made her chuckle that he would actually support the use of ESP in police work. She could almost imagine Mulder telling her the same things. "Yeah, John, maybe you should. I sure as hell don't know what to make of it. I don't even know if I believe her--except..., except how would she know." While Doggitt thought of Mulder, Dana couldn't help thinking about Christine's knowing that she was pregnant. How could she possibly know about it? Chapter 6 A week had passed since her meeting with Christine Houghton. Evidently nothing had happened to warrant Christine's calling her. Dana had called her over the weekend, as promised. No news is good news, Dana supposed. She hadn't really allowed herself to hope--the disappointment she felt was just too hard to take. She still experienced an overwhelming degree of loss during those times when she allowed herself to review the past. Mulder had been her partner for seven years. He had been her friend and eventually her best friend for at least five of those years. When had it happened that he went from being her colleague, her partner to being her friend? They worked together; they played together; they teased each other; they laughed together. There was no room for others in their lives. They had experienced so much together; and now, even though he was gone, the bond was there, stronger than ever. She was sure she would know it if he were dead. She comforted herself with this thought. They had searched together for the truth to the exclusion of all others, but they evaded the most important truth, and now that truth was so apparent to her that it threatened to break her. Why hadn't she told him? She did love him, and she had never told him. She had no memories to comfort her; no memories of making love, of spending long, quiet weekends wrapped in her lover's embrace. God, if he came back to her, she would do everything to make it right. No, no not if, when--when he came back to her, he would know just how much she loved him. This child inside her, his child, would know a father. She was still amazed at the science that had allowed her to conceive, allowed her to pick a father whom she knew would cherish the child they would create together. In-vitrio fertilization, thought Dana, it fits in with the rest of their lives, with their work--just outside the norm. When her doctor had suggested it, had asked if she had a potential sperm donor, well asking him had been one of the, no make that the hardest, thing she had ever done. She had tried to make light of it--something about him possessing the height that any child of hers would need. No need to take any responsibility, she assured him. He would have none of it. Her heart had stopped when she thought he was refusing her. In almost typical Mulder fashion, he told her that it was an all-or-nothing deal. He would offer what she needed, but only if he could indeed be part of their lives, hers and their child's. She hadn't even known she was pregnant until after he was taken. "God, please don't let it be too late." Chapter 7 It was another four days before Scully heard from her friend. It was just past eight when she called. "He's near," she practically screamed. "Christine, where is he? Where, where is he?" Christine verged on hysteria. "Please, please, Dana. You have to do something." "Okay, I'll be there in forty minutes. Calm down, Chris. I'll be there." Dana hesitated only a moment before she called Doggitt. "Hello," he murmured into the phone. "Were you sleeping? I'm sorry, John, but Christine just called. She is hysterical; she says Mulder's near. I don't know what..., but I promised I'd call you the next time..." Scully was not used to asking for help. This was something she never did, not even with Mulder, but she didn't know what else to do. She didn't know what to make of Christine's visions; Doggitt, for some strange reason, did. "I'm going there now. If you want, I'll pick you up on my way." "Sure, I'll be ready in fifteen minutes." With that she cradled the phone, grabbed her coat and bag, and was out the door. Another "please, God" escaped her. Just how often could she beg for Mulder's life? Was anyone even listening? Doggitt was just closing the door when she pulled up in front of his house. It seemed unusual for a single guy to own a house, and as far as she knew he was not married. Maybe he did have someone, a girl friend or a significant other. "Thanks for coming, John," she said as he entered the car. "Sure, Dana. I've been thinking about this, about your friend. Maybe it would be better if she didn't know right away that I was an agent. Maybe you could just introduce me as your friend. She knows you're FBI, but I think two agents might intimidate her, make her choose her words too carefully. We want as much as she can give us, then we can sort it out." "You're right, John. Chris seems a bit timid, unsure of who will believe her visions, so that's probably a good idea. Later we can tell her." It was just a little over forty-five minutes since Christine had called Scully, and when they arrived, she seemed just as overwrought as when Scully first spoke to her. "Thank God, you came. Oh, Dana, I'm so scared. He's calling you." "Take it easy, Chris. It's OK. Look, this is my friend John. John, this is Christine Houghton." Christine immediately became uneasy. It was all right for Dana to know about the visions, but he was a stranger, and she'd had experience with strangers and the way they looked at her when they knew about her visions. Doggitt held out his hand to her, and she reluctantly shook it. As she touched him she got the feeling of ..., not belief that would have been too much, but something more peaceful, a kind of acceptance of her and her ability. She began to cry softly as she let go of his hand. "Hey, take it easy," Doggitt echoed Scully. "It's just that ... You have no idea what it's like. It's all so real. Dana, I think he is close now. They are finished with him, and it's almost like I can feel them. They're not like us; they don't care ... Oh, God, we have to help him." "Who are they Chris? Do you have an idea where?" Scully was overwhelmed by Christine's visions, but she didn't know whether it was because she did believe her or because she wanted to so much. Scully slumped down into the closest chair; she felt weak, and so tired. "What is it that you see, Christine? John encouraged Christine to say more. "Is there anything specific?" "Well, at first it was just light, very bright light in a darkened room. He was in a chair, and he was screaming for Scully." Christine turned to Dana, "he doesn't call you Dana. He just calls you Scully." "He was in a lot of pain, physical pain, and emotional pain, too. He feels so lost." Doggitt tried to steer Christine back to specifics. The ideas she was presenting were draining for Dana; he could see it on her face. Besides they didn't help any. If Christine could just somehow get a place, a location, at least that might give them a lead. "Christine, what about now? Where is he now?" "He's not in that room any more. He's out and no, I don't know where it is, but he's out and he's alone; he's cold. He's outside; there are trees and bushed, not like a park or a garden though; it's wild. I don't know why, but I don't think it is more than two hundred miles." Doggitt quickly assessed this bit of information; within a two hundred mile radius of Washington DC. "How about weather, I know it's nighttime but rain, wind, stars, anything?" "I don't think ... wait, it's raining, and cold, not freezing, but cold." Scully was amazed by Doggitt's persistence. For some reason he really believed that Christine was actually "seeing" Mulder, and he was helping her to find him. "Christine, do you have a computer?" he asked softly. Her negative reply prompted him to ask Scully if she had her laptop in the car. She replied that she did, but since she didn't look well, he simply asked for her keys and retrieved it himself. He plugged in and accessed the US weather service. He asked her again about the weather. As she spoke, he scanned the map to find the weather she described. There it is, he thought a small low pressure system north of DC, in southern New Jersey, temperature at 46 degrees, while south of DC it was cool and clear That narrowed the search down a bit. "Christine, what else can you see? Can you hear anything?" She stalled, "Nothing... no wait. Water I hear the ocean, the surf." Doggitt continued his map activities. There, he thought.. Come on, Christine, he mentally pleaded, we need more, just a little more. There seemed to be nothing else for Chris to say; that was it; she was blank. Doggitt looked up from the computer, "How about we take a ride? If this is right, then maybe if we head in the general direction, Christine can get more of a fix on the location." Scully couldn't believe that practical, literal John Doggitt was actually buying into this. She was still afraid to believe--what if Chris is wrong, what if there is nothing there, what if ... There was nothing for Scully to do, but agree. Doggitt was wired. He seemed to really believe Christine's visions. Christine simply looked exhausted. Whatever else there was, she really believed what she saw. All three got into Scully's car. Scully's agitation seemed to disqualify her as the driver so Doggitt simply took the keys from her while she climbed into the back seat. Christine Houghton accepted the passenger side by default. Her tiny 5'1" frame slid into the car and she just sat; Doggitt had to remind her to secure her seatbelt. Her head was bowed so that her long chestnut hair hid her face. The dome light created both light and dark streaks; Doggitt couldn't help but think how fragile she looked. She was definitely not a strong woman, he thought. The ride out of DC and through Maryland was uneventful and after a time both women fell into fitful sleep. Doggitt kept going over the facts, and couldn't decide just why he felt so strongly about Christine Houghton's visions of Mulder. He was generally known as someone who had to have the facts in his face before he would believe them, but this time it was just..., it was just gut feeling. He hadn't even met Christine when he decided to believe her. This was ridiculous, but somehow it felt right. Ironic, isn't it, how this jibed with the rest of Mulder's life--never do anything conventionally, not even be found. For Scully's sake, he hoped he was right! Another gut feeling: she wouldn't handle this well if it were another blind alley. Chapter 8 As they made their way though Delaware, Christine's sleep became more restless; eventually she was fully awake, and yet oblivious to her surroundings. She began a low keening sound that completely unnerved Doggitt. "What's wrong, Christine?" he pleaded, but she was utterly unaware of her surroundings. She was beginning to rock back and forth, and Doggitt was becoming concerned; if this were truly a way to find Mulder, he needed her both awake and aware. "Christine," he shouted, but it was Dana who was awake in a heartbeat. "What, what is it? she asked in the confused manner of one who was awakened from scattered dreams. "It's Christine. I can't wake her. I mean, she's awake, but she's not. She's just rocking and moaning. I think she senses something, and it's affecting her. Try to wake her." Scully reached over the front seat and held Christine's shoulders. When she stopped rocking, Dana began stoking her hair and gently calling to her. Christine leaned toward Dana's hand as awareness gradually surfaced. And with awareness came the vision, stronger and more developed. "We have to do something. Oh, my God. We have to help him. He is all alone," Christine wailed. "Alone, Christine? What do you mean "alone"? Dana asked. "I don't know. I just know he is alone. There's no light, no sound, nothing. He needs us," she gasped; then screamed and pointed, "no, no, go right. He's that way." Doggitt swerved the car off the main highway onto a secondary road. There were no cars traveling in either direction, but they were heading east, east toward the ocean. They had been in New Jersey for the last fifteen or twenty minutes, traveling northeast. Now they simply traveled east to ..., God knows where. Christine discontinued her keening, but continued to rock though much more gently now. Dana leaned forward and stroked her hair trying to keep her comforted, but Dana herself was in state of anxiety. It was therapeutic, almost relaxing for her to continue stoking Christine's hair. The effect on both women was calming; Doggitt on the other hand, grew more and more uneasy as he drove. What would they do if they found Mulder; what condition would he be in; more importantly though, what would he do with these two women if they didn't find him. He was still amazed by his own reaction to Christine Houghton. He had no idea why he believed her, but he did. It was irrational, and he was never irrational. Again Christine directed the car, "here, you have to turn here." It was an even smaller side road with no sign of life on either side of the road. They only drove a short time when Christine ordered them to stop the car. She needed to get out she said, and as her feet hit the pavement, she pointed. "There, he's there." Neither Doggitt nor Scully could see anything, but still they walked uncertainly in the direction she indicated. Nothing, there was nothing there. "Are you sure, Chris?" Dana asked. "Yes, he's in there," she said, motioning toward the tree line. Doggitt motioned Scully to wait, while he retrieved a flashlight from the car. Once it was turned on, they continued forward while Christine waited just outside the car. There was nothing to see: scrub bushes, trees, detritus covered the ground. They turned only once to see Christine just pointing in the direction they traveled. The forest, if you could call this area a forest, was extraordinarily quiet. Neither Doggitt nor Scully saw fit to break that silence just yet. They continued walking, trying to maintain the direction that Christine had pointed out. They saw nothing, but even more unnerving, they heard nothing. The usual forest sounds were absent. It's no use thought Dana. He's not here. We've been walking for fifteen minutes already. There's just nothing here. And even if he were here, we could easily have missed him. Desperation was finding its way into Dana's thoughts and there seemed nothing she could do about it. She stopped walking, causing Doggitt to almost knock her over. "John, I can't go on. He's not here." Her voice caught as she spoke, betraying her feeling of hopelessness. "Just a little bit more. OK, Dana? We'll walk just a bit more then if there is still nothing, no sign of ... something, we'll turn around. OK?" Wordlessly Dana agreed and they continued forward, belief in this action was ebbing. Off to the left they heard a sound, probably an animal, but it seemed so loud in the extraordinary quiet. There, they heard it again, not an animal, but the sound of movement accompanied by a moan or sob. Without realizing they each held their breath until... there he was. Scully was frozen for a split second, then ran to him. "Mulder," she said quietly. "It's me." She hugged him to her fiercely, but he was motionless. Then gradually he looked down at her, at her face. "Scully, is that you? What... , where..., how did we get here?" What happened?" It's OK, Mulder; it's OK. We're going to get you out of here. We're going to take you home. It's OK!" Scully couldn't think. She was overwhelmed by his reappearance. As much as she wanted it to happen, she wasn't prepared for the reality. He looked awful. His hair was long and shaggy; he looked so thin, so ravaged. He must be wearing the same clothes he was abducted in, she thought. He was confused and unsure, and she held him to her as much to comfort him as to comfort herself. Doggitt, who was watching from a few steps away, asked, "Can you make it to the car? Do you need help walking?" At Scully's frown, he just shrugged, "I'll go on ahead; tell Christine that we found him." Loosening her grip on him, she whispered. "We have to go now. Can you follow Agent Doggitt? It's not far to the car." "Where are we? How did you get here? Where's Skinner?" All these questions ran through Mulder's mind. He had questions, but he didn't have any answers. Chapter 9 Doggitt retrieved his cell phone from his jacket. He needed to contact Kersh to tell him that Mulder was alive and they had found him, but a nagging thought kept him from dialing immediately. When he reached the car, Christine was sitting half in and half out of the car. The front door was open and her legs hung loosely toward the ground. She was bent forward so that he couldn't see her face. "Christine," he called quietly. "Christine, we found him. Dana is bringing him; they're right behind me. Christine, do you hear me?" She didn't answer at first, but rather emitted a low sigh. She was barely aware of his presence until he touched her. She stood immediately and grabbed hold of him, laying her head against his chest as she sobbed uncontrollably. Doggitt responded the only way he could: he held her gently and stroked her back the way he would a child, the way he had done with his own son. She was still crying albeit more quietly when Scully and Mulder made it to the car. "Have you called this in yet, John?" Scully inquired. "Not yet," he replied. "Good then don't. At least, not yet. I want to think this through a little first. I know it's strange, but I don't want to subject Mulder to a lot of questions. I'll call Skinner tomorrow, and ask him to meet me; in the meantime, I think we should just not say anything to anyone. I'm not certain what they'll want from him, and I just want this to be as easy as possible for him. I think he is suffering from a mild form of shock. We'll bring him to my place and I'll take care of him, at least until tomorrow." "Look, Dana, this violates all procedure. I don't know ..." "Please, John, just until tomorrow. Then we'll decide together, OK?" "OK, but just until tomorrow." It was a long and quiet ride home. Christine had stopped crying, but she couldn't or wouldn't talk. She still seemed exceedingly upset. In the back seat, Mulder dozed, but never let go of Scully's hand; she kept one arm around him, pulled to her so that he rested his head against her while her other hand clung to his as if he would disappear again if she let go. Mulder looked awful, and Doggitt couldn't help but wonder if they weren't making a mistake by not taking him to a hospital. Scully was a doctor, but he silently questioned if she knew what to do with a live patient. It was nearing 4 am when they pulled in front of Scully's house. Doggitt helped her get Mulder out of the car, then left them at the curb. It's was a good thing Scully said she didn't need his help getting to her apartment. Doggitt wouldn't have felt right leaving Christine in the car alone. She was still distraught by the events of the night, and he wanted to get her home as soon as possible. Besides he wanted to get at least an hour's rest before he had to go to work. Muttering encouraging words, Scully soon got Mulder into her apartment. They sat next to each other on her sofa. "Mulder, I have to tell you this. Please try to understand: today is October 9th, you have been missing since June. You were in Belle Fleur with Skinner, and we believe you were abducted by aliens. We found you in New Jersey somewhere between Wildwood and Avalon. To tell you the truth, we were out of leads, we didn't know where else to look until an old friend from old high school contacted me. That was Christine Houghton in the car with us, and Special Agent John Doggitt, who was assigned to the X files in your absence." She finished the speech she had rehearsed in the car with a long, deep sigh. Mulder just sat looking at her. She wasn't even sure he'd heard her, never mind understood what she'd said. Mulder sat for a long time, then finally he grabbed for her hand. "Scully, Scully, I don't remember; I don't remember anything. All I remember is being in the forest with Skinner. Then I just walked away; there were people there and it was bright, and, and then I was here and you found me." Mulder leaned over and wrapped his arms around her, "I don't remember any thing else." He was distraught, but slowly Scully calmed him. They gave in to their need to touch each other, to hold each other. They clung to each other as if the end of the world loomed on the horizon. The rest of their short night was spent on the sofa in Scully's apartment, just holding on to each other. Early the next morning, Scully disentangled herself from a sleeping Fox Mulder and headed into the kitchen. Coffee was first on her agenda, not the decaf stuff she'd been drinking since she'd found out she was pregnant, but the real stuff. She didn't think it would hurt this one time, and she needed to be fully functional as quickly as possible. Mulder still slept, although she did notice that since she left the couch he mumbled frequently. I have to call Skinner, she thought, then the Gunmen; they can get the lab work done without naming any names. Yes, she thought, she'd just wait till office hours, then she'd begin. She had to call Doggitt, too. She'd promised to talk to him today, to keep him advised of her actions. By eight, Mulder was awake and looking just as lost as he did last night. "Don't think about it, Mulder. It'll come back to you; don't worry it now." "You don't know what it's like--the whole thing is just missing. There's nothing there." "Have some coffee, Mulder. Then why don't you take a shower? There's a disposable razor under the sink and I'm sure I have some of your clothes here." She left the kitchen and entered her bedroom where she quickly found Mulder's stash of clothes that he had left over the years. She herself was loathe to dress since it fairly obvious that she had gained fifteen pounds since he'd last seen her, and she wasn't ready to explain that, yet. Returning to the kitchen, "here." She handed him his clothes, then fetched a towel from the linen closet. "Take your shower now and when you're finished we'll talk, OK?" It was time to call Skinner and she didn't want to do that in front of him. Once in her bedroom, she quickly dialed her boss's number. "This is Dana Scully, Kim. Is he in yet?" A slight pause while Kim announced her call, then, "Skinner here." "Good morning, sir. I won't be in today, but I need you to pick-up the files I've been working on. Do you think it would be possible for you to stop by my house this afternoon? It's very important." Skinner was confused. Dana sounded strange, and he had no idea what she was talking about, but because he trusted her judgment, he simply replied, "Sure Agent Scully. I'll be there around two." 'Thank you, Sir." OK she thought first hurdle jumped. Next she needed to contact the Gunmen. Another quick dial. "Langley? Scully here." She waited momentarily while he secured the line. "We have him!" she cried. "We found him in New Jersey last night, or rather early this morning. Langley, I need some stuff..." With that she ticked off a list of medical supplies and lab tests that she would need done. "OK, Langley, I'll see you guys this evening." Before she could hang-up, "Yeah, he's OK, a little shaggy and he's lost some weight, but he's OK." Then answering the next question before it was asked, "No, I haven't told him yet," and she hung up the phone. From the doorway, Mulder asked, "Told me what, Scully?" "Uh, nothing, Mulder. Uh, he asked if I had told Skinner yet." Mulder knew she was lying, but was at a loss as to why. Scully retreated to the kitchen where she guiltily poured herself a second cup of coffee. She had spent so much of the last few months just trying to find him that she never thought about just what she would tell he partner, when she did find him. Chapter 10 Special Agent Fox Mulder, recently returned from a four month absence of time, abducted by aliens for whatever purpose, these words played over and over in his mind, but he couldn't remember any of it. The facts were clear he had been missing for four months, and the reality of it was sinking in. There is a certain desperation about those who have suffered similar experiences; he knew this from the years of interviewing abductees. Despite the fact that he had never thought it would happen to him, he'd always secretly harbored the idea that abductees could remember, if only they would try hard enough. He'd believed tat if it happened to him, he'd find his answers; he'd find Samantha; he'd finally know what happened to her, and now that it had happened, he was no closer to the truth than he was so many years ago. He grinned wistfully as Scully handed him a cup of coffee. "Thanks." She smiled at him; he looked so young with his hair long. She reached forward to push it back from his face. "Did you wear your hair long when you were young, Mulder? You look like you're twenty." "Nah, I was a nerd in high school. I tried it for a while in England, but it was just too much trouble." He wasn't sure exactly what to do now. He just want to hold on to her, to have her so near that nothing could ever separate them again. He pulled his chair next to her, and took her hand. He just needed to touch her. "Mulder, I've missed you so much," she said placing her other hand on top of his. "It was so bad without you, and I was so afraid you'd never come back to me." She raised her hand to stroke his face, to touch his lips, and she leaned toward him pulling his face to her. She kissed him lightly, a liberty she would never have taken before, and she began to cry. He, too, was overwhelmed by her emotions, and he held her to him. Each of them savoring the other's closeness. It was a long time before they could let go. Scully was first. She leaned back slightly and looked up at him. His eyes were closed and he looked peaceful. She needed to tell him, "Mulder, do you remember the doctor I was going to before..., the IVF he wanted to try?" Mulder grinned, "Yeah, Scully, I remember. I should have brought my own videos," he chuckled. Sterile white environments are definitely not conducive to ..., but I managed." "Yeah, you did." Mulder was surprised by her terse reply. "How long ago was that?" he asked. "About three weeks before you were abducted." Neither said anything for a while, both lost their own in thoughts about Scully's last-ditch effort to conceive, and what it meant to her to ask his cooperation. Mulder thought about the night when she had asked him to be the father of her child. She was timid with him then, and nervous. Didn't she know, he'd do anything for her. He loved her that much. Even if she'd wanted him to have no part in their child's life, he still would have given her anything she wanted. It was so much better that she had agreed their child needed a father. "Mulder, the procedure was successful. It was done the week before you left; I'm almost five months pregnant." She waited anxiously for his reaction, but he was too astonished to respond. What he couldn't say in words, his actions made up for. He stood and pulled her up in front of him. Gently he opened her robe. He ran his hand down her satin nightshirt, over her slightly-swollen stomach. "Scully! Oh, Dana." He drew her into his arms, and softly, so softly that she almost didn't hear him, he murmured, "Our child." She hadn't realized she was holding her breath until she finally exhaled. All the things she had wanted to tell him, all the words she had planned to say, but all she could do was hold him as he held her--as if their lives depended on it. Slowly the words came. "I love you, Mulder. I think I always have; from my very first day in the home of the FBI's most unwanted." He grinned as she spoke; it was so long ago, yet he knew even then that she was special. And with every case they worked on, she proved it. She had kept him honest. She had made him whole; she completed him, now in every way. Chapt 11 Again Scully was first to end the embrace. She inched back slightly when the telephone rang. "Scully," she answered. "Good morning," replied Doggitt. "How is he?" "Yeah, OK, John. Are you OK? How's Chris? Is she holding up? It occurred to Scully that Christine might be in bad shape after last night. "Uh, I stayed with her last night. She was pretty out of it; so I was afraid to leave her alone. She's still disoriented, and somewhat distant, but I think she's coming around. I am going to leave her now and head on back to my place, clean-up and change. Then I'll come back. I really think she needs company; she shouldn't be alone." "Good idea! I called Skinner, but I didn't tell him anything. He's going to stop by this afternoon, and the Gunmen will be here tonight. I want to perform the tests on Mulder myself and they have access to most of what I need." "I'll see you later, OK?" "Yeah, and John, thanks." Scully answered. "Doggitt," she answered Mulder's unspoken question. "Who is he, Scully? Why were he and that woman with you last night?" Mulder sounded lost, lost and confused. She would have to fill him in on four months of lost time. For the next two hours, Scully related the events since his abduction. She even included how he had covered her back, even when she hadn't asked him, hadn't wanted him to. Mulder asked few questions; mostly he watched her face trying to decipher her feelings for her new partner, for signs of her commitment to him. He knew Scully gave her trust grudgingly, but he also knew she had needed someone during his absence, someone to help her continue. He was relieved when she had reached for his hand and held it tightly as she related the facts. Doggitt was OK, she continued. He was a skeptic, but he was honest and fair. She couldn't ask for more than that. Doggitt had helped her to find him, had believed in Christine Houghton's visions even when she, herself, had been incapable of trusting her instincts. Now it was Scully's turn to be concerned. Mulder looked tired. "Why don't you lie down for a while? You look beat. You can nap in my bed or just lie on the sofa for a while. I have some paperwork to finish and Skinner will be here soon. You should rest till then." "Yeah, I'll rest for a while. Scully, would you stay with me? I don't want to be alone." He was almost childlike in his request, but Scully was only too willing to stay with him; she had missed him so very much. Even being in the next room from him was almost painful. "Sure Mulder, I'm pretty tired myself. The paperwork will keep." Not for the last time, they headed off to her bedroom together. Chapter 12 Shortly after one, Scully got up, showered and dressed. Her bell rang at 2:03. Assistant Director Walter Skinner entered and voiced his question simultaneously. "What's going on, Agent Scully?" "Sshh," she cautioned him. "Mulder's back! Doggitt and I found him last night in New Jersey. He's asleep now." "How, what...?" '"Come in the kitchen," she ordered. By the time she had finished giving Skinner the low-down on finding Mulder, a whole hour had passed, and they could hear Mulder stirring. He seemed to be in the last stages of a dream that was distinctly unpleasant. Scully raced to him just as he called her name. He was sweating and his heart was racing when she pulled him into her arms. "It's OK; it's OK!" she repeated stroking his hair and holding him to her. As he gradually climbed out of the despair his dream had engendered, Mulder became aware of his surroundings. In spite of Skinner's presence, Scully continued to hold him until he was fully awake. When full consciousness returned, Mulder gently disengaged himself from her. Skinner gave an uncomfortable cough, and simple said, "Good to have you back, Mulder." "Good to be back, sir, but it'd be better if I could remember being away." Skinner briefly recounted the events leading up to Mulder's abduction. Although he remembered a substantial amount leading up to the event, Mulder could remember nothing of the actual incident. Rather than ask meaningless questions, questions for which there could be no answers at this time, Skinner asked how they wanted to handle his reappearance. Mulder looked to Scully to make this decision; he just wasn't sure he could decide. Scully believed it would be better if Mulder's reappearance went unreported at least until she had time to run some of her own tests. She didn't know which would be better: to have an alien abduction proved, or for it to be unsubstantiated. While Scully was speaking, her bell rang a second time. This time it was Agent Doggitt. After a terse greeting, Doggitt got right to the point. What was to be the official action about Mulder's return, and it was Skinner who gave him the answer. Although he was not happy with the action, or lack of action, Walter Skinner couldn't offer an alternative to Scully's request so he reluctantly agreed to say nothing for the time being. Doggitt, on the other hand, just accepted this course. He stayed only a few more minutes, then rose to leave. Scully saw him to the door. She asked how her friend was, and John said he was heading back there now. Christine seemed to be returning to normal, but he didn't want to leave her alone for any length of time. For her part, Scully couldn't believe that John Doggitt was being so solicitous to her friend. Maybe there's some sort of attraction there, she mused as she closed the door. When she returned to the living room, she found Skinner and Mulder simply talking about the unrelated events of the past months. He filled Mulder in on the basketball stats, making a special point of how the Knicks were doing. Scully's reentry heralded an end, and Skinner excused himself to return to his office. With the door closed, and this time locked, Scully dropped herself down next to Mulder and reached for his hand. "Are you hungry?" she asked, "You missed lunch, you know." "Yeah, Scully, I am a bit hungry, but don't get up, I'll go." "There's some cheese in the fridge, and some crackers in the cabinet next to the fridge. There's ice tea in the fridge, too. Glasses are ..." "I remember, Scully. Glasses are on the second shelf in the cabinet to the left of the sink, right?" Scully didn't want to admit it, but she was tired, and maybe her feet were just a little swollen. The events of the past twenty-four hours were taking their toll on her. Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a few minutes, she thought, but Mulder was returning with two glasses of iced tea which he placed next to each other on the coffee table. He returned a moment later carrying a plate with a wedge of Swiss cheese and some crackers. "Hey, you look pretty beat. Are you feeling OK?" he asked. "I'm fi..," she started, then changed. "I'm OK, just tired. They tell me it's typical to feel tired all the time." Mulder set the cheese and crackers down. He looked at her smiling. "I never thought this would happen, Scully. I never projected this far. I always thought if I became a father it would be in the usual way. You know, get married, have sex--the usual stuff." "Does it bother you? You can't take it back, but we could work something out." After all the years she'd spent with Mulder, she was still anxious about him. Their feelings for each other had never been vocalized; she barely understood her own feelings, never mind his. "We don't have to tell anyone about your part in this," she continued. "After all, it's not anyone's business!" "No, Scully, leaving you has never been an option. Don't you know that yet? You are what I've always wanted--pretty much right from the start. You've made me whole in more ways than one, Scully, and I love you. I always have." "Yeah, Mulder. I think I've always known it.' She reached for him now. "You've completed me in ways I never even suspected, but it wasn't till you were gone, and I had to face never seeing you again that I knew it would never be the same between us again. It's time to move forward. It's time to make it happen; time to let the world know what we've always known." He laughed now, "I think everybody knows already, Scully. I think we were the only ones who hadn't faced it yet. I'll bet the entire FBI thinks we've been sleeping together for years." "You think, Mulder?" she said as she reached toward him. At his nod, she simply continued, "then I think we'd better not disappoint them."