From: Angel Date: Mon, 19 Aug 2002 20:59:06 -0700 (PDT) Subject: story Source: direct Title: L'aMet (Literally: To Bring Out the Truth) Author: Angel LeeAnn Rating: PG-13 (Content, Language, and Mild Sexual Reference) Classification: M/S Romance/ Mulder Angst Spoilers: A little bit of this and a little bit of that Keywords: Holocaust Summary: What if you were to discover your hidden heritage? Then, to uncover the painful reasons as to why it was kept from you in the first place? Notes at the End ~ Please Read Them! It'll explain and apologize for a few things. Comments, questions, or complaints email me at turmoil04@yahoo.com Disclaimers: The X-files cast is the property of Christ Carter and Fox Studio 1013. I am not making money off this or any of my other work based on these characters. Friday, March 6 5:32AM Oakland Cemetery The rain was light, but the fog dense enough to slice a knife through. At times Fox Mulder wondered if Mother Nature knew when he was coming. Every time he made a visit to this cemetery, it became the type of foreboding weather that made the mood darken; or more like leveled itself to the already murky demeanor radiating out of his soul. It set the dramatic scene that was played so often in movies. Mulder gazed wearily down at the black marble headstone. The Star of David was carved above the name and filled in with silver. It was a rather remarkable piece of work, but what else did you expect for a remarkable woman? Mulder had known exactly what he wanted even before entering the shop. Teena Ann Mulder Beloved Mother of Two March 6, 1933 -- May 6, 2000 Life never gave her a rest. Yet, she is now one of God's angels. May her wings take her far, but allow her to remain in the hearts of her loved ones. Tears glistened unshed in his haggard hazel eyes. He'd loved his mother even when she was aloft and cold: trapped in her living Hell created by the past. Mulder knew that his mother blamed his father, William James Mulder, for all the horrible heartache suffered in their family. However, secretly she realized that fault wasn't all his. She had the choice to pack up her children and leave...didn't she? Mulder shook his head. What was he thinking? Of course she had a choice -- at least in the beginning of the project she had a choice. The moment Bill Mulder approached her with the question "which child?" she could have split. Then again, the Syndicate would probably have tracked them down and killed them all "for the cause." A car door slammed up ahead and Mulder glanced briefly up the path to see his partner, Dana Scully, strolling towards him. 'Not strolling,' he thought, 'Dana Scully never strolls -- she walks briskly with a sense of strength and determination towards her destination no matter how frightening it is.' Her destination was to reach him. How frightening was that? An emotional, power-charged Mulder was a scary sight to behold so early in the morning. "How'd you know I was here?" He questioned without looking over at her. Instead, his eyes were glued to the tombstone and the earth below his feet where six feet under lay the remains of his poor mother...and truths that now would never be revealed. Scully gave him a sidelong look. "Where else would you sneak off to?" Her expression and voice softened. "Mulder, I know what day it is. I wasn't surprised at all to wake up to an empty bed -- I expected it." She let her crystal blue eyes wander over to the headstone...her forehead wrinkled with confusion. "Mulder?" She peered up at him. "Since when did your mother's marker have a Star of David on it?" Mulder sighed, digging the toe of his shoe into the moistened ground. "I felt it appropriate since I discovered that she was still semi-practicing Judaism." He sneaked a peek at his partner's wide eyes. "Didn't you know I was Jewish? Well, I haven't entered a synagogue since I was twelve -- except for twice, but I'm still a bloodline Jew." He cracked a smile. "Didn't my nose ever tip you off? And, as Adam Sandler put it, 'We're pretty good in the sac'." Scully rolled her eyes. "So you think." Mulder flashed her a devilish grin. "So my neighbors think -- they've complained about us you know. Mrs. Jenkins down the hall glares at me every time we see each other. 'You know, young man, there are some of us who would like to get some sleep around here.' Though, I think she's just jealous. She wants you all to herself." Scully let out an exasperated sigh, folded her arms across her chest, and pursed her full lips. "Mulder, you are so crude. Mrs. Jenkins must be a hundred years old. My limit is seventy-year olds." "Though you prefer them tall, dark, irritating, forty-something males." "You bet." Comfortable silence filled the air, allowing them to drift into their own inner world to reflect. Mulder found himself wondering what she thought of him being Jewish. Her entire family was devoted Catholics -- would things change if her mother and siblings found out he stemmed from somewhere far away from them? Then he shrugged the idea away; it was not as though he was religious -- hadn't been in a synagogue since he was there during Scully's awful hospital stay when the cancer was eating her alive. The time before that was when she was missing for those three terrible months. A ghost of a touch on his upper arm brought him back to the moment at hand. He glanced down at Scully with a smile teasing at the corners of his lips, but slowly reversed itself into a frown of despair. "All of my grandparents were dead by the time I was four. My father was an only child; my mother had an older sister who passed away back in ninety-three. She never had any kids. I'm the only one left." A scorching knife slashed itself into Scully's heart. Never had she heard words more painful than 'I'm the only one left.' She herself came from a moderately large, warm family. She was no longer close to her relatives, but she hadn't the slightest idea of what it would be like knowing that they were no longer there -- that she was the last of her clan. She wanted to soothe his loneliness by saying 'But you're not alone.' However, one quick scrutiny into his shattered soul, she knew that anything she said would go on deaf ears. Instead, she glared at the stone. 'How could his mother do this to him?' "By this time next year, at least I'll be married. Two members of a family is better than the one it is now." Mulder grasped her slender hand in his much larger one and forced out a smile. "Hey, I suppose two Mulders is all this world could handle anyway." 'If only I could increase that number,' Scully thought with a wounded heart. Never had she wanted to able to have children more than now. 'If only I could give him a future... if only I gave him a child; presumably a son to pass on the family name.' Scully recalled back to the time in Home, Pennsylvania. Mulder had been boyishly playing with a baseball when he came out with his revelation: "Scully, you don't know me as well as you think you do. You know, my work demands that I live in a big city; but if I had to settle down, build a home, it'll be in a place like this." Later he had proudly stated, "Aside from the need of corrective lenses and the tendency to be abducted by extraterrestrials involved in an international governmental conspiracy, the Mulder family passes genetic mustard." Though he hadn't come out with it directly, it became obvious to her that Mulder secretly yearned for the title of fatherhood. The way he had handled Emily (she'd never forget when he bent down to her level and gave her that silly Mr. Potato face) was further evidence of his hidden desire; a desire that burned within her as well. Friday, March 6 7:35AM J. Edgar Hoover Building "Sorry to keep you waiting, Agents. However, the reason for the delay deals with what I was going to be discussing with you." Assistant Director Walter Skinner stared evenly at the pair seated opposite of his oak desk. The light seeping in from the drapes behind him caused the corners of his glasses to sparkle. "It's come to my attention that Doctor Eric Cohen has 'miraculously' disappeared. Their last known location is Auschwitz, Poland. He was doing research there, but living in Zaborze." "Sir," Mulder interrupted, slightly leaning forward in his chair. "Poland is out of our jurisdiction. Besides, what does a doctor have to do with us? Is this somehow an X-file?" There was a tense pause as Skinner stared intently at his agent. "Agent Mulder, Doctor Cohen is the leading researcher for many organizations such as the Holocaust Remembrance Museum and World War II Archives. He was currently working on a project that dealt with the concentration camps. He was trying to uncover the secret laboratories at Auschwitz where he believes Nazi officials were practicing barbaric rituals on the Jewish prisoners. Cohen had written a letter to his wife stating that he felt close to his goal: that he had evidence of the involvement of some of the men. Two days after receiving the letter, Mrs. Cohen was informed that her husband had gone missing." "Sir, as interesting as this case seems, I still don't follow how it is we are ending up with this assignment." Scully glanced at Mulder to see him eyeing the manila folder lying open in front of Skinner. "Politics, Agent Scully, politics play a major role. Also, there are some higher ups whose seem to have taken a particular interest in this matter. It makes me wonder why. I'm sending the two of you over to Poland. The official means is that you are there to assist. Doctor Cohen, after all, is an American citizen. However, what I want you to do is figure out what it is the Syndicate wants silenced." Friday, March 6 2:50PM Zaborze, Poland Golden Sun Hotel Mulder flopped down on the double-sized bed, knocking papers off in the process. Scully glared up from the report she was reading in time to see him scoop up the last few sheets remaining and discard them on the floor with the others. "Mulder, what are you doing?" Mulder crawled up towards her with an innocent smile. This in itself set off warning bells in her head. Mulder never gave her an innocent look unless he was up to something. He was now hovering over her stretched out legs, his face level with her chest. He bent down and placed a soft kiss against the fabric over her right breast. "Nothing. You can keep doing whatever it was you were doing." His mouth traveled upward till he was gently nibbling at the center point where her collarbone and neck met. Slowly he made his way to the side of her throat under her right ear. A moan escaped her lips and she squirmed when his left hand began sliding up the inside of her thigh. "Mulder, we have work to do," she protested weakly. "I'm not even half way finished with these reports." "Later. You can finish them later." He slid his hand up her blouse, cupping her breast and rubbing her nipple with his thumb until she hardened. "We haven't made love in a week due to your flu and that VSC case I was working on." Scully sighed, then gasped when she felt him pressing against her leg. He was definitely ready and not in mind to wait it off. "We made an agreement, Mulder: no sex while working. We can't loose focus here because of hormones. We have to meet Detective Schneider in an hour and it would be nice to know at least the basics of the case so we don't look like complete fools." Mulder extinguished a frustrated sigh then rolled off, now lying on his back staring wearily up at the ceiling. "How am I supposed to focus on anything in this state? Right now, all I see flashing across my mind is us screwing each other silly." "Live with it. There's no need to mop." She gazed at his exasperated scowl, noticing -- not for the first time -- how resolute his eyes were. "We'll just have a lot of catching up to do when we get home." Mulder climbed off the bed. "We better get going. I know we have an hour, but I want to get an early start. I want to take a look around the places Cohen had been just before he was reported missing without the detective there to hinder us. Remember we have a hidden agenda here. It could easily be possible that the German government -- and I do mean German -- is involved in this disappearing act. So, it would be best to do snooping without someone breathing down our necks." "What is it you hope to find?" Scully removed herself from the bed and smoothed her hands down her suit to get the wrinkles out. "If the government is hiding something then wouldn't they have already combed any of Cohen's known locations?" "Until they've been searched by me, they haven't been fully searched." Friday, March 6 3:24PM Zaborze, Poland Cohen's (Temporary) Apartment Silence seemed to hold the apartment in a reverent embrace. Your first step across the threshold embarked you into the stillness that only a place where the living no longer occupied can take you. If Mulder hadn't known better, he would have guessed that they were the first to ever enter this sanctum. The walls were covered with photos ranging from satellite maps of the concentration camps to portraits of former Nazi officials. Bookcases were overflowing with references entitled 'The Holocaust's Forgotten Souls', 'Germany Maps of 1930-1950', 'Who Was Who in World War II', and many more. On the coffee table lay a glass case where within sat a piece of charcoal wood and a picture of a building where the wood had come from. Off to the side on a seedy couch were piles of documents, letters, and case studies. "This man is obsessed." Scully pulled out a pair of latex gloves and slipped them on. "I wonder what caused him to devote his entire life to the study of the Holocaust. Perhaps a relative of his was a victim of what he believes were the barbaric rituals Skinner was talking about." Mulder by now was wondering around the room, poking at things here and there. "Why does anyone get obsessed with anything? An event happens in your life that causes such an overwhelming effect that when you come across something that you believe will help ease the pain, get you revenge, or give you purpose, than the drive kicks in. Suddenly you are blinded by that drive and you find yourself desperately hanging on to it because it is that drive that you use to gain your strength." Scully's eyes followed him as he made his way about the room. She knew he was speaking of himself and his quest for the truth. After his sister, Samantha, was abducted from the Mulder home while Mulder was babysitting, he became driven to uncovering the lies and truth surrounding her disappearance. And even now, after learning what had become of his sister, he feels compelled to continue passionately on with the X-files. "Hey, Scully, does something not seem right here to you?" Mulder was facing one of the bookshelves, his eyebrows knit with confusion. "These books are alphabetized by author, but starting with the letter 'h' and working its way past 'z' around to 'g'. Why would someone do that?" He ran a finger along the spines of the books, mumbling to himself. "Maybe he didn't want someone at first glance realizing they were alphabetical. Why? That wouldn't make any sense. Unless," he pulled out a book in a black jacket, "unless he had one not in its place." He held up his find for Scully to see. "Ruter comes before Stalin, not after." He flipped it open, scanning the pages as he thumbed through it. Scully came up behind him. "He could have just misplaced the book." She peered around him at the book. "'Horrors Unknown'? Do you suppose the title itself is a clue? Cohen was trying to uncover some of the secret horrors performed on the Jews." Her question was met with silence. Mulder reached page 113 and paused. The words 'Magiyah lo' was highlighted in yellow. They were the only words that had been selected from the book. "Magiyah lo? What in the world does..." "To him it should be received. It is a smug form of saying 'he deserves it.'" Scully quirked an eyebrow at him. "How do you know that, Mulder? I can't even recognize what language it originates." "Hebrew. I am Jewish remember, Scully." He glanced her way, closing the book and tucking it under his arm. "I even managed to accomplish my Bar Mitzvah before Samantha was taken. God, that the most embarrassing moment of my life. Why they make you sing when you're in puberty is beyond me. My mother tried explaining the purpose of it, but I still don't see the reason." "You went to the synagogue regularly? I figured that you were only semi-practicing even back then. I mean, since you never mentioned it." "Temple. I went to temple. Only the Orthodox Jews call their place of worship a synagogue. I believe it is their way of proclaiming not to try to rebuild the Temple of Jerusalem." Mulder suddenly found the window very interesting. "And yes, we went nearly every week." "Was your father Jewish?" "No." He strolled off in search of the bedroom leaving Scully to muse. Was he ashamed of something? Scully certainly didn't care either way if he was Jewish or Buddhist and she never knew Mulder to be embarrassed of what he was. "Hey, Scully," he called from the bedroom, "there was a computer here, but it's missing. It looks rather like a recent removal." He emerged from the room sullenly. "How long has he been missing? Thirteen days? That computer hasn't been missing that long." "You're right, Agent Mulder," came a thick accented male voice. A tall, thick man with blonde hair and sky-blue eyes stood stiffly at the entrance of the apartment. "My men took it in for analysis." He approached Mulder with a look of disgust. "You're not supposed to be in here without an escort." 'Escort,' Mulder thought with amusement. Scully stepped up, barracking herself between the two men. "You must be Detective Schneider. You apparently already know who we are. How'd you know which of us was Mulder?" Schneider's eyes dimmed. "He's obviously the Jew." He shrugged and went on as if to explain, "I like to know whom I am working with before meeting them. My boss told me I'd be working with an American-Jew. That could end up being important later on in the case since Cohen was Jewish." "Was?" "Agent Scully, it has been thirteen days. Do you really think we are still searching for a missing person? No. We're now looking for a dead body." Schneider peered down at the book in Mulder's hands. "What's that?" 'A book,' Mulder thought bitterly, but said, "Just something I picked up. It had an interesting title." So not to cause suspension, Mulder placed the book on top of a pile of other books near the wall. "I think we're done here for now. I would like to visit where he was last." "Auschwitz," Schneider sneered. "Are you ready to go there, Agent Mulder?" Friday, March 6 4:47PM Concentration/Death Camp Auschwitz As the car rolled to a stop at the main entrance, Mulder felt the chill of death creep up his spine. The foreboding structures seemed as though they were fighting to hold the secrets that were inside. If walls could speak what horrors would these bricks whisper? The torture they must have witnessed. Across the iron archway read "Arbeit Macht Frei" -- Work Makes Freedom. However, the only kind of freedom received here was that of merciful death. The silence was deafening. Not a bird, cricket, or the rustling of leaves disrupted the stillness. It was as though time didn't exist. The only way you could tell that aging has occurred here is by the crumbling buildings. "Know much about this place, Agent Mulder?" Mulder glanced back at Schneider and was struck by how much he resembled an SS guard. He wore a black leather trench coat, black boots, and an evil smirk, but expressionless, empty eyes. His imagination ran wild and he suddenly pictured himself standing in a crowd of skeletons all dressed in rags. Dogs barking, snapping their hungry jaws at his feet. Women and children crying in despair as they are forcibly separated. Smoke rising in the air from the crematories. The smell of burnt flesh assaulting his nose and causing his eyes to water. Shaking it off, Mulder turned away from the German's cold eyes. "I only know what I learned in my history classes. There are three different camps within the one. Auschwitz one, two, and three. They were also known as Auschwitz I, Birkenau, and Monowitz. It was the largest camp established by the Nazis at the town of Oswiecim. Auschwitz was the main camp. Birkenau was the killing center. Trains arrived there daily carrying thousands of Jews from practically every German-occupied country of Europe. Monowitz was for the forced laborers for the nearby factories. At least one-point-one million Jews were killed here along with about seventy-three thousand Poles, twenty-one thousand Roma, and fifteen thousand Soviet prisoners of war." Schneider scoffed. "That's quite a bit to remember from a history class." Mulder narrowed his eyes. "It held personal meaning," he seethed through clenched teeth. "Now, are we going to get the guided tour -- or, should I say, be escorted through? Or would you rather have us snoop on our own?" With that Mulder entered through the gates and headed towards the crematories. Scully had to virtually run to catch up with her retreating partner whose long strides were taking him further and further away. She was reeling with hatred for Schneider. She wondered if his father had been a Nazi official during the war. The way he tended to turn his nose up at Mulder and his attitude towards the situation caused her to worry about his credibility on this assignment. She didn't get the chance to catch up to Mulder till long after. He was standing stock still in front of a large stone building. His face was masked in horror and disbelief. She quietly joined him, keeping a small distance between them. "I know this place." His voice carried softly, almost trance-like. "I've been here before." He took a tentative step forward; his eyes fixed passively on the demeaning building. "This was a gas chamber. Those buildings over there," he pointed to the barracks, "beyond the guard's housings are where they kept the men. Way in the back, the right corner, are barracks ten and eleven. Between those two buildings is a courtyard the Nazis made into an execution plaza where nearly twenty thousand naked Jews were shot from behind." Scully swallowed, icy fingers running along her veins. It wasn't so much as what he had he said, but how he murmured it as though speaking from the grave. "Did you study the Holocaust in college?" "No. I should have, though. My mother's parents were both murdered during the Holocaust. My grandfather was subjected to experimentation under the hands of Josef Mengele, a.k.a. Angel of Death, here in Auschwitz. My grandmother had been sent to Sered where for three months she was used as a sex tool till she got pregnant. Then, she, too, was sent to Auschwitz where she was gassed after Mengele removed her fetus." Scully was aghast, her eyes expelling her raw shock and alarm. "Oh my God, Mulder. That is appalling. Why didn't you ever tell me about your family before? What happened to your mother?" Mulder shook his head mournfully, nibbling on his lower lip. "I don't know. My mother would never discuss it. The only reason I knew what happened to my grandparents was through a journal my aunt had passed on to me when she died." "Agent Mulder, are you finished with your trip down memory lane?" Schneider was standing motionless a few feet way glowering at the taller man. His shoulders were squared and his eyes blazed with an evil passion. "Our destination is much further than this. Cohen was last known to be at crematory four. He made a phone call there to a colleague of his." "What were they discussing?" "How in the hell am I supposed to know? His colleague swears not to recall details. He said it had been late at night and Cohen was just going on one of his usual spasmodic theories. Not that it matters what they discussing. If it was a key to finding Cohen, then his colleague surely would have told us." "Sometimes it's the small things that crack a big case. The tiniest of clues could be what puts the larger puzzle together. I think that what they were talking about could end up being extremely important." "Then you can question him later. As of now, let's get this over with." Half an hour later, the three were silently scavenging the area for any sign of foul play. Scully glanced up from studying what appeared to be footprints. Her eyes fell on her partner's back; his shoulders slumped as though he was carrying the weight of the souls that haunted here. He was facing a pond, his head bent in reverence. Scully checked for Schneider's position -- he was yards away looking rather bored as he examined some of the ruin. She ignored him and approached her partner, gently placing her hand on his upper arm. He acknowledged her presence with a sorrowful sigh. His hazel eyes were shadowed, hexed by his inner demons. "After cremating the bodies, they dumped their ashes in this pond." The tone of his voice was quiet, as though he feared speaking any louder. "They had found that the ashes were good fertilizers. So, they would use the water in this pond with the ashes of those they murdered to irrigate the farmers' land." Finally he looked up at her, sadness ever so evident etched on his features. "They were sick people, Scully. There just isn't any other way to view it. Innocent babies weren't even spared from their gruesome one-would-think-intolerable acts. Why?" Scully released a disheartened sigh and stared at the water that held the remains of so many Jews. "I don't know, Mulder. I wish I had an answer for you, but some things just can't be understood." "The war had ended, but the hatred never stopped. I remember there were people on the Vineyard who distrusted my mother because she was Jewish. Mind you, these were mainly the older folks who had lived through the war. However, they passed their distrust and hatred to their offspring. I recall a particular boy who had something against me from the start. I never could figure out why he hated me so much. Then one day, he came up from behind me and shoved me -- hard -- into a wall. 'You fucking Jewish bastard.' He screamed at me. 'You're nothing but a dirty vermin, you large-nose freak. They should've toasted your mother while they had the chance.' I was so furious I slammed my fist into the kid's mouth. Before you knew it, it was an all out war till a neighbor had come running out and tackled me to the ground. Another neighbor saw what was going on and rushed off to take hold of Bryan. My parents were called and my father came to get me. He apologized to Bryan's parents for my behavior, then pushed me in the car and drove to the outskirts of town. He told me he was disappointed in me, and that he didn't care what Bryan had said. He snapped, 'Boy, you're nothing but trouble. I need to teach you another lesson on respect.' Then, he yanked me out of the car and...well..." "Mulder, I'm so sorry." Scully ran her hand up and down the tense muscles in his arm. "Why would your father be angry with you for something like that? Did you get the chance to tell him what Bryan had said? I would think a man hearing that someone said that his wife should have been toasted by the Nazis would be livid." Mulder let out an almost hysterical, sarcastic chuckle. "That's something you don't know about my parents. My father never loved my mother. He acted as though she were a burden. I never understood why he married her in the first place. He just 'put up with her and her crazy beliefs.'" They remained in thoughtful silence, both with their eyes trained on the pond. Suddenly Mulder dropped to his knees and thrust his hand into the murky water. Scully blinked in shock at his movements. "Mulder?" He retrieved his arm from the pond -- his fingers curled around a metal box...a laptop covered in plastic. He glanced up at his stunned partner, a sheepish grin on his face. "I thought something didn't look right." He peered back over shoulder, then slipped the computer under his coat, holding it in place between his side and arm. "I think we're done here." Friday, March 6 8:45PM Golden Sun Hotel Scully emerged from her warm shower, towel drying her hair. She was dressed in her conservative pant and shirt blue silk pajamas. She padded barefoot across the beige colored carpeted floor to the side of the bed where Mulder sat Indian style, hunched over the laptop. He had taken a much quicker shower in his registered room and was now clothed only in his black boxers. "The whole damn thing is secured with a password. The moment I flipped it on a box popped up asking for the appropriate code." He gave her a sidelong look. "I bet you could guess what worked." "Magiyah lo." "You bet your sweet little ass. However, once in the desktop, you can't enter anything without another password. Can you figure out what I used to access the folder 'Holocaust Research'?" He paused a beat before continuing, "I took everything we know about Doctor Cohen, his work, and his previous password and came up with a few guesses. The correct answer was 'L'aMet', or to bring out the truth." He beamed up at her proudly. "Now, aren't you glad I'm Jewish?" Scully couldn't help but smile broadly back at him. "Yes, even though I'm sorry you had to face the terrible experience of your Bar Mitzvah." "Oh, the nightmares it brings up! Anyway, I can make a wild assumption as to why Cohen would be targeted. According to these documents, he did indeed discover a secret lair where unimaginable tests were performed. Yet, that isn't the most surprising. He found evidence linking well-known doctors and politicians to the crimes. Some of these people we have a closer relationship with than just the knowledge of their names." Mulder stared mournfully down at the screen. He remained tightlipped for a couple of minutes before gazing back up at his partner. There was such a dark, angry glow radiating from his now almost black eyes. "One of the names listed for the year ninety forty-four is William James Mulder, age twenty-one." Scully gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth. "Oh my God," she murmured. She lowered herself to the mattress, reaching over to sooth her hand across his cheek. She wanted nothing more than to erase those damaging words from existence. Instead, she did what she could do and brought his head to rest against her chest. She closed the laptop and dropped it on the floor. "How could he do such a thing?" Mulder moaned against her breasts. "My own father experimenting on helpless, frightened, innocent people. Then turning around and marrying a Jew -- a race in which he tried to annihilate as though we were nothing more than vermin -- irritating bugs you might call an extermination crew to get rid of." "I just don't know," she breathed -- her heart breaking as though glass dropped from the roof of a skyscraper. "It doesn't make any sense now, but maybe there is somehow an explanation to be found." "Where?" Mulder snapped angrily. "It's not as though I could ask anyone. My entire family is dead. No wonder she committed suicide. I'm awed that my mother managed to live her life as long as she did knowing the things she must have known. Maybe that is why that bastard married her. He already had an established career with the State Department before they even met. He knew the projects they dealt with involved human testing. So, he married a Jew knowing that he wouldn't care when the time came for him to sacrifice his family for the cause." Scully ran her fingers through his thick brown hair. His theory made sense, but she just couldn't bring herself to accept it. However, she felt that he was to drained too listen to reason and she didn't have the heart to start any sort of argument with his shattered soul. "Mulder, why don't you get some rest," she suggested softly. "It's been a really long day and your emotions are running high. We can discuss this in the morning when you can think with a clear head. I promise we will work this out." "I need to know the truth, Scully." "I know." Fifteen minutes later found her lying awake listening to his deep breathing and feeling his steady heart beating. She was exhausted, but unable to sleep with all the turmoil raging in her head. She never hated or loved anyone more than in this precise moment. She loathed the man that spawned the man she loved beyond all else. If Bill Mulder weren't dead, she would have gladly killed him with her own bare hands. The following morning, Scully awoke to an empty bed. She crawled out, stretched, and stumbled over to the bathroom door and knocked. "Mulder?" When there was no reply, she asked, "Are you in there?" The door swung open to reveal a stark naked man with wild eyes and a five o'clock shadow that gave his face a shadowy appearance. "Yeah, I'm in here...do you want to come in?" He leered, sweeping his hand to indicate that she could enter. "I haven't taken my shower, yet. Want to join me?" "Mulder," she whined, "you know the rule." "Not to sound clich, but rules are made to be broken." His hand snapped out and grabbed her, yanking her into the bathroom and slamming the door shut with his foot. "Come on, give a guy a break." He began unbuttoning her shirt. "It's been well over a week." He slid his hands inside, pulling the shirt off her shoulders in the process. "Besides, what harm would a quickie in the shower do?" He slipped his fingers into the waistband of her pants. "It's not as though we're working right now." Down went her pants. "It would be like us doing it in our apartment before leaving for the office." He stroked the inside of her thigh. How could Scully argue with that? Saturday, March 7 8:30AM Diner at the Golden Sun They sat opposite in a blue booth with a white table between them. They were both drowning their second cup of coffee when a squeal from the seat behind Mulder made Scully glance up to inspect. A little boy no older than three was standing on the seat, waving his arms happily in the air. The mother looked haggard as she kept trying to bring the hyper child down. Mulder swiveled around to be face to face with the cheerful toddler. A wide grin spread across Mulder's face and he leaned forward, tickling the boy's side. "Hey there, are you causing trouble for your mommy?" The boy only laughed, tilting over, trying to escape Mulder's fingers. "Maybe you out to sit down or otherwise you won't be able to eat those delicious looking pancakes." The little one picked up one of his pancakes and held it out for Mulder. Mulder shook his head and rose his hands in a friendly gesture to show he wasn't going to take the offered food. "No, no, you eat it." The boy giggled, stuffing what he could of the pancake in his mouth. His mother reached over and ripped off the piece that wouldn't fit. She then took hold of his tiny legs and slid him down onto his butt. She flashed Mulder a grateful smile. "He has more energy than the sun." Mulder chuckled politely and returned his attention to Scully. He caught the despondent look before she had the chance to get rid of it. However, he knew that if she wanted to talk about it, then she would start up the conversation. "Mulder," she peered down at her hands, then back up at him. "I know this wouldn't happen now, but in the future...what do you think of adoption?" Mulder took in the hope shimmering behind her cool exterior. "I think it is a wonderful idea." He snorted with amusement. "However, I'm not sure if the adoption board would think so. A crazy, spooky FBI agent who goes around the country searching for lights in the sky and rambling off on government conspiracies involving human hybrids, alien invasions, black oil from space that can control people..." Scully sighed. "You're right. They would never in their right mind give us a child. Even if I went back to Quantico -- or quit altogether -- and you went back to VCS...they would never accept us." "Most likely not. Soooo," he placed his left hand over hers. "I guess we'll just have to try and have our own." He waved his right hand to silence her. "Wait. Before you tell me 'Mulder, I'm barren', let me explain something. You know how I took that vial containing your ova? Well, I had taken it to a specialist who said that there were still some viable ones. I had them frozen. They've still got two years to survive." Scully was speechless, then she was livid. "You fucking bastard," she hissed with all the venom in her. "How could you not tell me something so important? Here I thought I lost my chance to conceive and all along you knew there was the possibility!" She leapt from the booth and stormed out of the diner; Mulder dropped a few bills on the table and was instantly hot on her heels. "Scully..." "No!" She screamed, her hands tightening into fists at her side. "I don't want to hear it, Mulder. There is no justifiable excuse for what you've done! You kept my children from me you son-of-a-bitch!" She tore the diamond ring off her finger and chucked it at him. "Take this back! I don't want to marry you!" His heart clenched in his throat. "You don't mean that. You're just upset; and rightfully so." He bent down to pick up the luminous ring. "I'll keep it, though, till you're ready to put it back on." "I'll never want it back because I'll never want *you* back! Now when we get back to the U.S. I want you to give me my children. I'll have them placed somewhere till I'm ready to have a baby." "And who do you plan on being the father?" "Anyone would be better than you. Like father like son, right, Mulder?" "I know you're just trying to get under my skin, Scully. Anything you say right now I won't be taking to heart." He closed his eyes briefly. "I know you're angry with me, but the time just never seemed the right time to tell you. I know that is no excuse, but I have none. I just...didn't tell you and that was wrong of me." "Go to hell, Mulder." Scully whirled on her heel and stormed off to the car. She accelerated out of the parking like a bat of out hell -- leaving Mulder staring after her with tears glistening in his eyes; the ring grasped tightly in his hand. Epilogue After Mulder had returned to their room, he discovered that all the files and the laptop had been stolen. He didn't need to take a second guess to figure out who had orchestrated the robbery -- Spender, too, had been on that list of torturers. Scully wouldn't answer her phone and she didn't return to the hotel until after he had left to run an errand. He felt strongly that she had kept surveillance on the place waiting for him to leave. When he got back, there was a note on the bed proclaiming that she was heading home. He had no option but to leave as well. It was past two in the morning before he came staggering into their apartment. He dropped his luggage by the door and made his way into the bedroom. He stood at the door -- his coat and shoes still on -- and watched her as she slumbered peacefully. Tearing his gaze from her, he walked purposefully to the dresser and yanked the top-drawer open. He began tossing his socks and boxers onto the floor, then moved to the closet and tore off a few of his suits. "What are you doing," asked a muddled voice from behind him. He didn't turn around. He didn't even slow down the pace of his movements. "Packing my things. Sorry I woke you. I was trying to be quiet." He left the room and returned with an empty suitcase from the hallway closet and started piling his belongings into it. She remained silent, watching as he snatched the photograph of them standing in her mother's backyard and tossing it in with his ties. She didn't want him there, but she didn't want him gone. Confused by her emotions, she only sat and stared. When the suitcase was bursting at the seams, he zipped it up and looked over at her. "This is all I can take for now. I'll take the day off tomorrow to get the rest of my things. Maybe it would be best if you went to work so we won't get under each other's foots." "Mulder, I..." she didn't know what else to say. "It's ok, Scully." He grimaced, 'like hell it is ok.' "Some things are just not meant to be. I guess we just learned that the hard way." 'Tell me I'm wrong,' he wanted to scream at her, but didn't open his mouth. "Yeah," she whispered, the darkness shielding her expression of despair. "Hey, two Mulders would have been to many anyhow," he tried to joke, but knew the instant he said it that it would fall flat. "I can't forgive you -- not yet." "I know." "I love you, Fox." "That's just not enough, though, is it?" "No. It's not." Mulder nodded, picked up the suitcase, and left. Notes: I am not Jewish nor do I speak Hebrew. I apologize ahead of time for any inaccuracies. I do, however, read everything I can on the Holocaust. Yet, I am no expert, so there most likely will be some imprecise facts on the subject. I am not writing this story to be offensive in any means. I myself am appalled by what the Nazis did to innocent people who's only "crime" was that they were Jewish. I do not know if Zaborze is an actual place in Poland. If so, then I am not making reference to it. As far as I am concerned, it is my own imaginative city. Also, I do not know the size of Auschwitz or any other place mentioned. I only have a small knowledge of the landscape and set-up of the camp. So, don't take my references to the size or lay out as reliable. I have no idea how far about things are. Also, I do not know Bill or Teena Mulders' birthdays or the exact date on which they died. Neither do I know the name of the cemetery at which they were buried.