From: Neoxphile@aol.com
Date: Sat, 20 Aug 2005 14:45:03 -0400
Subject: [atxc-pi] NEW: Womb for Revenge (0/1)
Source: atxc

Title: Womb for Revenge 
Author: Neoxphile 
Author Email: Neoxphile@aol.com 
Status: NEW - Standalone 
Size: 24k 
Rating: R 
Archive at Gossamer: Yes to Gossamer/Ephemeral 
Category: X-File , Humor 
Keywords: Character dies 
Pairings: MSR 
Spoilers: Requiem and beyond 

Summary: When Mulder sees CSM again, he realizes that something has 
changed the man. A whole lot.

Title: Womb for Revenge

Feedback: Neoxphile@aol.com

Spoilers: Requiem and beyond.

Rating: Let's slap an R on this baby, since it wouldn't get past the FCC for
language

Summary: When Mulder sees CSM again, he realizes that something has changed the 
man. A whole lot.

Catogory: Challenge fic. Written for the "He's my Mommy" challenge here
http://www.geocities.com/mulderscreek/tnfchallenges_new.html 

Author's notes: This is a sensitive, thoughtful piece about geriatric male
pregnancy. I swear. This isn't my usual writing style, but I felt this was the
form this story needed to be most effective.

Website: www.geocities.com/mulderscreek/otherfics.html (includes pretty picture 
of said pregnant geriatric male)

***

Prologue:

When Krycheyk and the bitch stepped over him on their way out the door, the
Cigarette smoking man wished he had a gun so he could shoot them both. The
thing was, though, that since he'd been unceremoniously pushed down the stairs, 
he couldn't really feel his legs too good. Nor his arms, either. 

So he silently fumed and watched them walk away. He thought about a lot of
things as he laid on the floor like a squashed cockroach. Mostly about how
maybe if he hadn't been such an asshole to his son, Fox William Mulder, the
dumb shit might have been here by now doing his knight on white horse shick to
save his old bony ass. CSM supposed that he hadn't thought ahead the way he
ought to, which was surprising since most of his life had been spent upholding
the principles of CYA. 

Still, what was done was done. Now he was going to lie here on the floor, die,
soil himself, and then be eaten by some wild animal because he could see that
neither Krycheyk nor the bitch had bothered to shut the door. At least he hoped 
that the being eaten would come after the dying...he didn't really care when
the soiling happened. 

The worst part about dying was that he was bored. It seemed like he ought to be 
bored and sad, but he really was just bored. He'd never been so bored in his
life. It made him wish that he would just hurry up and die to break up the
enewee. 

A shadow crossed the threshold, and CSM felt hope for the first time since 1957 
when he thought his favorite baseball teem might have had a shot at the world
series.

"Fox William, is that you?" The cigarette Smoking man croaked in his old ciggs
and whiskey voice - the type Stevie Nicks had before she decided to go clean
and ruined her career because she lost her bad but interesting voice in favor
of a simply bad voice.

Laying there, he thought it was two much to hope that his idiot son, well the
one he hadn't shot in the face, would come and save him from boredom. Um,
dying.

Turns out he was right, because the figure who entered threw the open door
wasn't Special Agent Fox William Mulder at all. It was tall and gray skinned,
and it was looking down at him with cold black eyes.

"Oh fuck." The cigarette smoking Man moaned. "I thought I could get through my
long miserable life without being probed by an alien."

The alien just shook his head and reached out for the old, broken, man.

***
***

Eight and a half months later

Dana Katherine Scully stood in front of her mirror, ran her hand over her
belly, and sighed.  Deeply.  The fact that her belly was as flat as ever deeply 
bothered her.  She should be as big as a house by now. She should see herself
as wearing stupid clothing with a lot of ruffles and bows when she examines her 
reflection.  But she's wearing tight jeans and the Green Day baby doll T-shirt
that Mulder inexplicably bought her for her birthday.

She turns away from the mirror, sighing deeply again.  When she had told
Skinner back either May or August that she was pregnant it seemed to be true. 
At her insistence the  pregnancy tests have been done twice, and the result was 
positive both times.

As it had been every time the tests have been done over the past 8 1/2 months.

No one could quite explain why the tests kept coming back positive, but it was
very clear from ultrasounds and other scans that there was no baby developing
in Dana's cold, barren womb.

People in her life were taking the "news" in varying ways. 

Her mother was bizarrely angry at her, apparently for getting her hopes up. 
Maggie's reaction was to two months ago burn all of the baby things that she
had bought in anticipation of Dana's son or daughter.  This had not led to
fight until Maggie accused her of creating Emily to solely to disappoint her. 
Then she said that Scully had probably suffocated the little girl with a
pillow, and had just pretended that she had died from some sort of evil disease 
that produced green blood which anybody with the brain knew was completely and
totally made up and probably a symptom of some sort of impending psychotic
break down on Scully's part.

For some reason Maggie and Scully had not spoken for two months.

Skinner seemed to share Maggie's conviction that Scully was going completely
insane, but because it became apparent one afternoon when Scully had gone up to 
Skinner's office and had found him and her scantily clad mother both flushed
and embarrassed and hiding under his desk, that perhaps Maggie's opinion had
rubbed off on him a little.  He didn't have much to say about the issue
himself, but he kept leaving her brochures about the FBI's insurance policy
mental health benefits.  Although the pamphlets had helpful titles like "so
your experiencing an imaginary pregnancy" Dana did not find them particularly
good reading.

No one had ever told Doggett that she was supposed be pregnant in the first
place, so he didn't actually have an opinion on the matter.  Instead he spends
his time trying to avoid being killed by giant bat creatures or horrible flesh
eating diseases and subways. All of this made her like him a helluva lot better 
than most people that she spoke to.  And also made her regret that she had told 
so many people that she was expecting a miracle baby.

Of course, the person who's opinion mattered the most, was Mulder's.  At first
he hadn't have much of an opinion because he'd been kidnapped by horrible gray
aliens and tortured for several months, but after he'd been buried alive and
then dug back up, and then spent several weeks in the hospital unconscious, she 
told him that she was pregnant but there didn't actually seemed to the baby. 
He had just drooled a little and asked her who the hell she was.

This was because he had severe and tragic amnesia. He didn't even know who he
was, which made Scully quite sad. But then she cried over him and he suddenly
remembered everything, except he confused Frohike with one of the seven dwarves 
for a few weeks until the little man attacked him, and his head got cracked on
a shelf full of the gunmen's crap, and his suddenly got that bit of his memory
back too. The little man refused to tell him where he porn was stashed, and
that made Mulder sad, but Scully happy, because she didn't like the idea of
Mulder abusing himself, not with her not having got laid in months.

***

But anyway, that was months ago. Now we're talking about May. Or maybe March. 

One morning, after Dana and Fox had sex on his desk, he gasped, and not just
because Doggett was staring at them as they fixed their clothing. And it wasn't 
because he'd just come either, since he'd done that before their partner walked 
in on them. (sadly, she hadn't, neither before Doggett entered or just then.) 

"Get off my desk, Dana Scully." Mulder said in a sheepish manner.

"Why are you on his desk anyway?" Doggett says, looking a bit dim. It had been
so long since he himself had had sex, he couldn't quite grasp the situation.
There was dim hope that some hot chick he'd met but not slept with when his son 
had died back in 1993 or 1997, would come back into his life and help him
remember, but that probably wouldn't be for a while, so he thought maybe they'd 
gotten their clothes dirty and had to change. 

"Um..." Dana Katherine Scully demurred. "Sitting?"

Doggett shrugged. "I told you we needed more chairs. Three desks now, but still 
one chair. HR really doesn't like us for some reason."

"Yeah, but I have a case for us." Fox Mulder interrupted suddenly.

"What about?" Scully wanted to know.

"An odd pregnancy." Mulder told them both, adjusting the waist of his pants.

This made Dana sad, because she thought about the baby that should be growing
in her cold barren womb, but wasn't. Still, she wiped her eye with the back of
one hand and asked, "Demon babies again?" Mulder shook his head. "More babies
with tails?"

"Really hairy babies?" Doggett asked, and they turned to give him a surprised
look. "What, I read the case files once."

"Nothing." Scully stammered. "It's just...I didn't think you could read. You
know, being southern and all."

"People down south can read!" Doggett shouted, and his face was an interesting
shade of red.

"That's not nice, Dana." Mulder admonishes. "There are books written by
southerners you know." He gives Doggett an apologetic smile. "You never met
Scully's dad, but he was the most bigoted person against Southerners that I
ever met-"

"When the hell did you meet my father?" Scully asked, also turning red.

"I don't remember, it was a long time ago." Mulder said evasively. "But you've
got to admit he was a bigot."

"God dammit, Fox-"

"Anyway, I was saying that I've got a case, about an unusual pregnancy." Mulder 
looked at his red-faced partners, and wondered if either of them was going to
hit someone. Maybe each other. May be him. "It's not that the baby is unusual.
It's the fact that the person who is pregnant is. It's a man."

"Men can't get pregnant." Doggett pointed out.

"I know. But the tip I got said that the guy is definitely pregnant. We're
supposed to go and check it out to confirm it." 

"Who is this supposedly pregnant man?" Scully wanted to know.

Mulder just shrugged. Some old guy. They didn't say who."

"So not only is the guy pregnant, he's old?! Doesn't that tip off your BS
meter, Mulder?" Scully shrieked, thinking that it was so unfair that some old
guy was going to have a baby when she couldn't. 

Neither man said anything while they waited for her to finish screaming and
stamping her  feet.

"Well, kind of. That's why we're going to check it out."

"Who tipped you off?" Doggett asked.

"Um...a reporter, actually. He wanted to know if this was real before he made
an ass of himself by reporting it."

"So he doesn't work at The Weekly World News." Doggett said.

"You read that trash?" Scully asked.

"I thought you didn't think I knew how to read-"

"I think he works for CNN. Anyway, here's the address. I'll drive."

"Why?"

"Because your feet don't touch the pedals, and we're not sure you can read."
Mulder said patiently. Then he ducked punches.

***

Since it was a three-hour drive, a big bruise was coming up nicely on Mulder's
shoulder, the one Scully once shot him in, by the time they pulled up in front
of the house.

"I think this is the place." Mulder said, glancing again at the slip of paper
the reporter had once given him. The addresses matched.

"This doesn't look like the type of place a pregnant guy would live in."
Doggett muttered, looking up at the blue, two-story, clap-sided house.

"And what do you think a house that a pregnant guy would live in look like?"
Scully asked, looking intently curious.

"I dunno, pink?"

Mulder marches up to the door and knocks loudly. A woman wearing a french
maid's uniform answers. "Yes?"

"Are you the maid?"

The woman is affronted. "Do I look like a maid to you? No, I'm not."

"My bad." Mulder is flustered as he pulls out his badge. "FBI. We're here to
see the man of the house."

"Man." The woman who isn't a maid scoffs. "Okay sure. I'll bring you to see
him."

Without further ado, the three of them are lead into a dark bedroom. Lying on
the bed is a shadowed figure on its back, who's belly is very swollen
indeed.

The woman clapped her hands twice, and the three of them turned towards her,
wondering why. "Clap on, clap off, the clapper." She explained as light flooded 
the room.

A horrible, horrible coughing noise issued from the bed, so they turned and
looked. Then Mulder swayed on his feet and sat on the floor blinking. Scully
hadn't actually seen the guy's face, and was concerned about Mulder's reaction. 
She stood over him, taller for once and looked down.

"Fox, what the hell is wrong with you? I thought that you wanted to come here."

"He...He..."

"Mulder?" She allowed some warmth to fill her voice, and motioned for Doggett
to help her. He shook his head so she shot him the evil eye and started to try
to tug Mulder to his feet.

"He...He..." Mulder repeated, this time flapping a hand helplessly.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Mulder." Scully growled under her breath, then looked at
"the guy."

"Ah! It's the smoking bastard!" Dana howled, dropping Mulder arm.

After hacking a few times, CSM put his cigarette in an ashtray and said "How
astute of you, my dear."

"Don't you 'my dear' me. I still want to know how I got into pajamas the night
you kidnapped me last year."

CSM just leered at her, making her shudder.

Having gotten to his feet, Mulder shakily approached the bed. Then he proceeded 
to rip off the blankets. CSM didn't protest until Mulder was pulling up his
shirt. "What the hell are you doing?" He demanded to know as Mulder began to
poke at him with a rolled up magazine.

"It's real, then." Mulder said, dropping the magazine on Scully's head.

"Am I really knocked up?" CSM grimaced. "That, unfortunately is true."

"Who is this guy, Dana?" Doggett asked, speaking for the first time in ages.

"Our arch enemy." Scully told him. "And Mulder's dad."

"I thought Mulder's dad was a guy named Bill that Krycheyk killed a few years
ago." 

"This is Mulder's real dad, the guy who had an affair with his mother."

"Whose kid was Samantha?" Doggett whispered too loudly. Scully just shrugged,
as far as she knew no one had ever asked themselves that before DNA was
invented.

"Dad!" Mulder gasped in a strangled voice, and still not because he was having
an orgasm. "If you're knocked up does this mean that I'm going to have a
brother or sister?"

"Yes, exactly. I went back in time, got pregnant instead of your mother, and
now I'm going to give birth to your sister Samantha."

"Really?" They all asked.

"Of course not, you stupid fucks." CSM rolled his saggy baggy eyes. "This kid
isn't even mine."

"Was Samantha?" Mulder wanted to know.

"Whose kid is it, then?" Scully asked when it was clear they wouldn't get an
answer to Mulder's question.

"Yours." CSM told her. "Yours and Numbnuts' here." He pointed at Mulder.

"But how?!" Scully cried.

"After Krycheyk and the bitch-"

"Fowley?"

"No, the other one."

"Phoebe?"

"Who the hell is Phoebe? No, the other one!"

" Marita Covarrubias?"

"Yes, that's the one. Anyway, after the pair of them pushed me down the stairs
and left me for dead, an alien came and got me."

"You got probed?" Mulder asked, looking a little green. A drunk Krycheyk had
once shown up at his apartment offering to give him an anal probe, and the
thought had made Mulder a bit squeamish ever since then. 

"In a manner of speaking. The bastards told me in my head that they were doing
you and Dana here a favor, and I was going to play a part in it."

"What sort of favor?" Scully asked.

"Saving your figure, I image." CSM coughed. "They said something about catching 
you in Bellefleur for a few minutes and taking your brat out of you."

"Aliens stole my baby?" Scully looked crushed.

"Well, they didn't go very far with it." The old man griped putting his hand on 
his hugely extended belly. "They put the little bastard in me."

"You take that back!" Mulder shouted angrily.

"Take what back?" CSM looked confused.

"Don't call our baby a bastard."

"That's the common term for a child whose parents aren't married, Son." CSM
pointed out.

"And it's not true. I met Scully over the summer while still in college and we
got married after I took her virginity. We drifted apart but never signed
divorce papers."

"You never told anyone over the past 10 years that you're married?" His
astonished father asked, lighting another cigarette.

"Nobody asked." Mulder said simply.

"Hey, wait a minute. Why the hell are you smoking? That's our baby you're
harming with those things." Scully swatted the cigarette out of his hand. It
began a small fire when it ignited the shag carpetting, but Doggett stamped it
out.

"Oh, relax. The aliens have a funny sense of humor, and they won't let me
inflict any harm on the little parasite. God knows I tried." CSM sighed. "The
people at Planned Parenthood called a psych hospital when I went to them for an 
abortion. I nearly got caught by the men in white coats."

"I guess, in that case..." Scully lit a cigarette for him.

He took a long drag, then looked up at them. "Given the reluctance of medical
personnel to respect my predicament, the question remains...how the hell are we 
going to get this thing out of me?"

"We?" Doggett asked. "Don't look at me, I just work with them."

CSM looked at Mulder instead. "I assume you want this baby, do you not?"

Mulder didn't know what to say, but Scully shouted, "Of course we do!"

"Yeah, sure." Mulder agreed.

"How about we do this now and get it over with?" CSM suggested.

"I don't know..." Scully's voice wavered. "How far along are you?"

"I think that depends on when your last period was." He pointed out. "This
thing began life in your body, not mine."

She counted on her fingers. "Yeah, you're just about due. Have you had any
contractions?"

"I don't have a uterus, how am I supposed to have contractions?"

"Good point. Let's go down stairs and do this."

"'"This" being what, exactly?" CSM asked nervously.

"Um, cutting you open and removing our baby." Scully said, giving him a look
like it was obvious.

"Have you ever done anything like this before?"

"Remove a baby from a pregnant man's stomach? Only in my worse nightmares."

"This is a unique case..." He still looked apprehensive. "Okay, let's do this."

"Boys, I'm going to need you to help him downstairs." Scully commanded. "I
don't think he'll make it on his own and I'm sure as hell too small to help him 
much."

Doggett and Mulder each grabbed him under an armpit and hauled him to his feet. 
When they did, it became even clearer how massive his belly was above his bony
knees. 

"Boy, are you fat." Doggett told him.

"Thanks, I practice."

"Nice muumuu." Mulder sniggered, looking at CSM's floral housecoat.

"Just get me downstairs, will you?"

*** 

By the time they dragged him down the stairs, Sully had already cleaned off the 
table and draped it with a white sheet.

"Get him up here."

"Why not upstairs, on the bed?" Mulder wanted to know as he and Doggett
manhandled his father.

"And get those nice linens all soaked in blood?" Scully asked, waving a large
knife she'd been pouring alcohol on. "A hard surface like the table doesn't
have the give that'd make cutting less precise."

"That's so reassuring." CSM said faintly as he laid back on the table.

"Okay, Mulder, you hold his legs down, and Doggett, you hold his pillow over
his face."

"Why?" Doggett asked.

"No anasesia." Scully explained. "Don't worry, you'll pass out and won't feel a 
thing."

Just as she said, CSM was out cold by the time she made the first incision. 

"Boy, that's a lot of blood." Mulder remarked, trying to see what she was doing.

"Yeah. Looks like he was right, I don't see a uterus, I'll have to be careful
not to cut the baby."

"Good idea." He agreed, nodding vigorously. "We'll wait to find out if it's a
boy or girl before deciding on circumcision. "

"What?" Scully asked, concentrating on hacking into CSM's belly. A small leg
became visible as she cut through the man's stomach muscles.

"Holy god, remind me not to have you cut the bird at Thanksgiving." Doggett
said as he watched.

"You think you can do a better job?"

"Um, no."

"Then shut the hell up, John."

Dana paused for a moment and groped for a washcloth after blood splurted into
her eyes. "Oh that's gross." She muttered to herself.

After five more minutes of slicing with the knife she reached her hands into
CSM's belly and pulled out a small bloody infant. "Looks like it's a boy. You
can let go of his legs." She told Mulder as she handed the baby to him. "Hold
him for a minute."

Mulder looked down at the slime-covered, bloody infant and felt his heart burst 
with love for the little creature. 

Doggett, meanwhile looked at the baby form afar. "Man, this guy must have been
eating like a pig, 'cause the baby is really small for how fat he got."

"Actually..." Scully pulled another infant out of CSM's belly. "Twins make you
gain a lot of weight."

"Boy or girl?" Mulder asked gleefully.

"Another boy." Scully said. "Hey John, why don't you hold him while I cut the
other one's cord and clean him up."

"Okay, sure." Doggett said, dropping the pillow. "Hey Dana, I don't think the
old guy is breathing."

"Of course he isn't. You've been holding a pillow over his face for the past
half an hour."

"But you said..." Doggett said in surprise as the second infant was put into
his hands.

"Look," Scully said as she tied off the first baby's cord. "If I tried to
explain to you guys that he's evil and had to die, you might have argued with
me. This was the best way to off him without an argument."

"She's right you know." Mulder said just as her knife sliced through his son's
cord. "He'd of plagued us for years, hanging on just to make our lives
miserable now that we're parent."

"Okay, I respect that, I just would have preferred a heads up when I'm going to 
kill someone."

"It was an accident." Scully said. "No wait, you weren't even involved. None of 
us were."

"What are you talking about, Scully?" Mulder asked as he washed the first baby
while Scully tackled the other's cord.

"Take a good look at him."

"I'd rather not."

"No really, look at him. Doesn't the way he's all cut open now remind you of
anything?"

"That exploding whale video on the internet?"

"One of our cases. The one where that alien thing ripped its way out of a guy."

"Oh, yeah, now that you mention it..."

"You two finish their baths, I've got something to do."

The men did as they were told, but kept sneaking glances at Scully. She had a
piece of paper and was doing something with the dead man's hand. "Okay, all
done."

They walked over, careful not to disturb the babies sleeping in their arms, and 
looked down. On the paper there was a message written in blood "arrgh, it burst 
out of me, I think I'm dying. CSM."

"Very nice." Mulder commented as she began gathering evidence that it wasn't
what the note said up to burn. After pulling the sheet out from under the dead
man she squeezed the blood out onto the floor and rolled him off the table to
sort of sit in a chair.

"Aren't local law officers going to think this is an X-Files?" Doggett asked
nervously as he bounced a baby in his arms.

"Count on it. I'm sure it'll be an easy case for us too, since we can make up
whatever the hell answer we want." Scully told him.

"Don't we usually?" Doggett mumbled. "Hey, I think I saw some baby clothes
upstairs." He said in a louder voice before Mudler punched him.

***

There were baby clothes and more up there, so Mulder and Doggett carted it all
out to the car while Scully dressed her sons. Right before they left they
discovered evidence that CSM suspected twins - there were two car seats in his
walk-in closet.

"Oh, this makes things easier for mommy, daddy and uncle john, yes it does."
Scully told the boys as she put them in the car seats and carried them out to
the car.

"We're all set to leave, just give me a hand putting them in the car, huh?"

As soon as the babies were safely strapped into the legally acceptable infant
passenger restraint system that came standard with their rental car, Scully got 
in back with the babies, letting Doggett sit up front with Mulder.

"So Dana, what do you think we should name our new sons?" Mulder asked, leaning 
over the driver's seat.

"Let's name them after our fathers." Scully cooed. "William and Liam."

"Um, that'd be giving them the same name, you know."

"Fuck you, Mulder."

"William and Liam it is."

The five of them drove away into the night, trying to figure out a way to
explain how they'd suddenly gotten ahold of baby twins. And if it was okay to
use nicotine patches on infants, since they refused to stop crying once they
woke unless someone blew cigarette smoke in their faces.

As for CSM, he got his expectation about being predated fulfilled, since no one 
had shut the door to his house this time, either. The animals didn't even mind
that he'd soiled himself.

THE END

Author's notes: If some of you say "seriously?" and I say "whoosh!" ::evil
grin:: This fic isn't bad, it was just written that way. Or something. 



### The End ###