From: DarknessLight@aol.com Date: Mon, 5 Feb 2001 03:35:22 EST Subject: Submission - Rescue Mission 3: Comrades by Lara Means Source: direct TITLE: Rescue Mission 3: Comrades AUTHOR: Lara Means E-MAIL: darknesslight@aol.com WEBSITE: www.geocities.com/larameans_2000 CLASSIFICATION: V RATING: PG ARCHIVE: Gossamer, Spookys, NO (I'll submit directly to both); Ephemeral, Xemplary, M&S, YES. Anywhere else, please ask. I'll say yes; I just like to know where the kids are at the end of the day. FEEDBACK: Please? DATE POSTED: 02/04/01 DISCLAIMER: U.S. copyright law says that the studio is the author of a movie or television show, not the writer or creator. Which means that "The X-Files" ultimately belongs to Rupert Murdoch, even though it was created and brought to life by people with WAY more talent. No infringement intended. SPOILERS: Redux II, Drive, Hollywood AD, Requiem SUMMARY: Waiting is damn hard for a man more used to *doing*. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ RESCUE MISSION 3: COMRADES written by Lara Means God, was she pissed. By rights, *I* should've been pissed. She'd taken off in the middle of the night -- with Alex Krycek, no less -- and she was seven months pregnant. Granted, she had a good reason, but how often had Krycek jerked us all around? How did she know he wasn't going to get her out there in the middle of goddamn Idaho and kill her? So yeah, I should've been pissed. But in the end, I just couldn't be. Because she did it. She rescued Mulder. What she was pissed about was that I'd called at all. That I'd insisted on contacting the Field Office in Salt Lake City, and they'd insisted on having agents from the Pocatello Regional Office go and talk to them. That I'd insisted on following some semblance of procedure. Of course, the doctor in her had seen to it that Mulder was admitted to the local hospital for some pretty extensive tests -- I think we were all more than a little surprised to find that he was fine. Completely fine. He was weak and dehydrated, with a couple of odd little scars on his wrists and ankles, but otherwise... nothing. Frankly, I was more worried about her making the return trip to Washington than him. Which is why I requisitioned the Justice Department jet. Kersh hit the roof, of course. Couldn't understand the need for such an expense -- after all, it was just Mulder and Scully. The officious little prick actually had the gall to say that to me -- it took every ounce of restraint I could muster to keep from decking the bastard. Scully actually laughed when I told her that. Asked how much he was going to charge them for the use of the plane. I didn't bother to tell her how many favors I had to call in to get it approved over Kersh's head. I decided to have agents from the Pocatello Regional Office transport them to the Air Force Base in Mountain Home, which didn't sit well with her either. But dammit, I was getting tired of this crap. I wanted my agents home. I needed... I need to see Mulder. To know for sure he's okay. Maybe then some of this weight will be lifted. Not all of it, I know. Never all of it. I cost him -- *them* -- too much when I lost him. So now I'm standing -- pacing -- in a waiting room at Bolling Air Force Base. I wanted to bring them into Andrews, but the president's going somewhere and the Secret Service said no. "Mr. Skinner?" I turn to find an impossibly young lieutenant standing at the door. Christ, was I ever that young? "There are three men at the gate who say you've cleared them -- " I frown, wondering what those three bozos have done now. "Byers, Langly and Frohike. I left their names with Captain Ferguson." I wait for a response, then flex a little vocal muscle, growling, "Is there a problem, Lieutenant?" The kid pales visibly and snaps to. "No, sir. Captain Ferguson didn't inform me, sir. I'll have the gentlemen escorted here at once, sir." I give him a nod of dismissal, hiding a smile. I can tell the kid's tempted to throw me a salute -- instead, he turns on his heels and goes. God, that feels good. Makes me wonder what my life would've been like if I'd stayed in the Marines... on second thought... I pace some more, glance at my watch for the eighteenth time in the last half hour, stare out the big windows at the almost empty tarmac. A few seconds later the door opens again and they spill in. How the hell did I get mixed up with these three? "Hey, Skinman, they here yet?" Langly. I resist the urge to growl yet another 'don't call me that' at him and just shake my head. Not for the first time, I find myself wanting to strangle Mulder or Scully for telling them about that... just as soon as I get them both home safely. "I knew they'd be late -- you can't depend on military aircraft." Byers. Former government employees always have the least amount of faith in the government. Well, next to Mulder. "They're not due for another ten minutes," I tell them, refilling my coffee from the urn so graciously provided by the Air Force. Military coffee. Tastes like tar. Meanwhile, Frohike makes for the outer door and throws it open, staring up and down the tarmac. As if just his wanting the plane to appear would make it happen. I leave him alone -- Mulder's disappearance and Scully's pregnancy have affected him more than the others. He's the one Mulder took aside before we left and asked to keep an eye on Scully -- not that Mulder had to ask. Frohike's carrying a big torch for Scully. You'd have to be blind to miss it. Byers comes up to me, his own cup of coffee in hand. "Is Agent Doggett coming?" I shake my head. "He said he didn't think it was appropriate." He nods, sips his coffee, grimaces. I grunt in sympathy. "Agent Scully's mother?" "Waiting for us at her house." He nods again, starts to walk away. "Mrs. Scully said to be sure that the three of you join us there." They exchange a glance, consulting each other. I hate it when they do that -- it's worse than with Mulder and Scully. With them it's vaguely annoying -- with these three, it's damn unnerving. After their bout of unspoken communication, Frohike closes the outer door, steps up. "Not a good idea." I glance at my watch again, irritated -- tired of waiting, tired of their bullshit. "Mrs. Scully said to bring Dana's friends. She wants to help Scully celebrate Mulder's homecoming. You guys are not going to disappoint her. Am I clear?" Another round-robin glance, then Frohike tosses a grin my way. "Sir, yes, sir." The corner of my mouth twitches and I turn away before it can become an actual smile. They huddle up and talk quietly among themselves, and I go back to staring out the big windows. After a few minutes, I see it. A smallish jet, descending. My pulse begins to pound, my stomach clenches... It's them. I hold onto this knowledge a moment, keeping it to myself for now. When the plane drops a little lower, I call them over. The three of them join me at the window and we just stand there, watching the plane come in. I'm sure from the other side we look like kids with our noses pressed up against a toy store window. The four of us let out a collective breath when the jet finally touches down. It seems to take forever for the plane to taxi toward our building. When it finally gets close and stops, Langly whispers, "Is that them?" I nod, watching closely as the jet's small door opens and the short staircase is wheeled up against it. She appears first, squinting in the bright sunlight. My throat constricts at the sight of her -- hair ablaze, smile luminous, abdomen heavy with his child. His child. My God. That's the first time I've given conscious thought to the idea. I've known for a long time how they feel about each other, probably longer than they've known themselves. And I was the first person she told about the baby -- more of necessity than anything else, I know, but still... Now, though... now... She turns back toward the jet's doorway and extends her hand, then he comes out to join her at the top of the stairs. Mulder. Now it's real. He's thin, too thin. And he looks weak. Scully slides an arm around his waist and he drapes his arm around her shoulder -- he has a cane in his other hand. Together they move slowly down the steps, helping each other. As they near the bottom step, I can tell the others are itching to rush outside, to greet them on the tarmac -- for some reason, they're waiting for permission from me. It won't be forthcoming. All those missed opportunities to help them. All the times I could've made things easier for them. All those OPR hearings where I should've defended them. The least I can do is help them now. I reach for the outer door and toss an order at the others as I step outside -- "Wait here." They don't dare disobey. Mulder sees me coming and stops -- Scully's focus is solely on him, so his stopping is what gets her attention. He draws himself up tall and straight, then he smiles at me. Dear God, Mulder, I don't deserve that, not after what I did. "Sir," he says, and I have to laugh -- the only protocol Mulder has ever observed is calling me 'sir.' His arm drops away from Scully's shoulder and he extends his hand. Hesitating only a second, I take it, then I pull him into a hug. This is a first -- I've never hugged any of my agents before, not even Scully when her cancer went into remission. Releasing him, I look away now, trying to keep my emotions under control. I didn't realize how tightly wound I am. "Mulder, I -- " "No." His hand comes to rest on my arm and I look at him again. There's a gentleness in his eyes I don't think I've ever seen before -- not directed at me, anyway. "It wasn't your fault. They would've taken me no matter what you did." I give him a small nod and glance at Scully. She graces me with one of her rare smiles, and I feel blessed. Forgiveness from both of them wasn't something I expected today. Recognizing how close I am to losing it, I muster a halfhearted glare and toss it in Scully's direction. "You're getting as bad as him, taking off in the middle of the night for God knows where, not telling anybody..." She laughs -- she hasn't laughed in months. "I've already heard that from Mulder, sir." She looks at him, their eyes locking, and his arm goes back around her. This looks so right. The two of them, arm in arm, their baby between them. Mulder leans down and kisses her softly on the cheek, and Scully blushes. But it looks so right. Again, I have to struggle for control. "Good thing one of you's using their head, although I never thought it'd be Mulder," I tell her, trying and failing to be gruff. I nod toward the building, where I know their three friends are watching us. "Come on. There're people waiting for you." I slide an arm around Mulder's waist, and after a second he puts his arm around my shoulder. Together Scully and I help him inside. END ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to IWTB for inspiration, and frogdoggie for keeping the A.D. on point.