This story is based on the characters and situations created by Chris
Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and FOX Broadcasting. No Infringement is
intended. For distribution and entertainment of EMXC members only.

"ACCEPTANCE" 
By Michele Blankenship  AKA Phenyx@aol.com
1/19/96


     Listen as the winds blows from across the great divide
     Voices trapped in yearning 
     memories  trapped in time
     The night is my companion and solitude my guide
     would I spend forever here and not be satisfied

     I would be the one to hold you down Kiss you so hard
     Ill take your breath away
     And after I'd wipe away the tears just close your eyes dear.

     Though this world I've stumbled so many times betrayed
     trying to find an honest word to find the truth enslaved
     Oh you speak to me in riddles and you speak to me in rhymes
     My body aches to breathe your breath
     You words keep me alive

     I would be the one to hold you down Kiss you so hard
     Ill take your breath away
     And after I'd wipe away the tears just close your eyes dear.

     Into this night I wander Its morning that I dread
     another day of knowing of the path I fear to tread
     Oh into the sea of waking dreams I follow without pride
     Nothing stands between us here and I wont be denied

     I would be the one to hold you down Kiss you so hard
     Ill take your breath away
     And after I'd wipe away the tears just close your eyes...

                              "Possession" Sarah McLachlan 
                              Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
                              *ARISTA records 1993




     "I've made you each a turkey sandwich."
     Two pairs of  young eyes turned and looked up in mild surprise.  The
man felt a pang of guilt gnaw in his stomach.  The simple task of
preparing food for his children was so foreign to them that the act had
instilled shock.  The man sighed.  The guilt was a feeling he knew all too
well.  Someday, it would become his only companion.
     "Mustard and mayo... with the crusts cut off.  Just the way you like
it." He smiled sadly as his son's eyebrows rose another notch.  
     The two children were dressed in their pajamas and warm slippers. 
The cold Massachusetts winter had a habit of creeping in under the doors.
     "We'll be at the Gowrett's until late." the man continued.  "So, you
eat your sandwiches and go up to your rooms."
     The two children nodded agreeably.
     "Fox, you be a good boy.  Make me proud."  
     For the first time, he noticed how tall the boy had gotten.  He was
only a half dozen inches shorter than his old man.  The child's brown hair
grew a bit too far over his collar.  The young face had lost much of its
babyish roundness.  His lips were full and his brow well defined.  The
child's thin body ended in the large hands and feet of a young man.
     Father reached out to son and ruffled the hair on the boy's head. 
The man realized his mistake immediately as the boy frowned in
apprehension.  He almost never showed such affection toward his son.  The
young man was bright and intuitive.  He was sure to ask questions, become
anxious.  
     The elder man held his breath for a moment, almost hoping his son
would voice some concern.  If the boy was at all suspicious,  he would
call everything off.  Other plans could be made.
     "Sure, Dad.  No sweat." was the reply as the boy shrugged away from
his father and sat at the kitchen table.  "It's not like you haven't gone
to the Gowrett's to play bridge before."
     In the next moment, the boy bit into his snack.  There was no turning
back now.
     "You have more turkey than me." the younger child wailed.
     "Oh shut up, Sam.  You're such a pest.  There's lots of turkey. 
We'll be eating it for a week.  Don't be such a baby."
     Their father nearly scolded the boy, but he didn't seem to have the
heart.  Instead he ushered his glassy-eyed wife through the room and out
the back door into the gently falling snow. 
     
     The youngsters were well behaved children.  When they had finished
their small meal, they rinsed the dishes and obediently went up to the
large loft they shared.  Fox had his things at one end of the spacious
area.  Samantha had her's at the other.  The ceilings slanted upward to a
peak, following the contours of the roof.  Despite the location and size
of the room, it was warm due to extra insulation and a special heating
system their father had installed.
     Fox's side of the room was cluttered with boyhood things.  Books and
shoes were scattered on the floor among an assortment of baseball cards
and broken tinker toys.  His desk was in similar disarray involving a
baseball glove and the scattered pieces of an unassembled model air
craft.  
     There was a small window above the boy's desk.  The view out this
window however, was obscured by the large elm tree in the yard.  Just two
months ago, Fox had snuck out of the house at night for the first time by
crawling out the window and climbing to the ground.  
     As one crossed the room, the area for 'boy things' ended.  The wooden
staircase leading to the lower portion of the house served as the only
separation between the rooms.
     Samantha's bed was a jumble of stuffed animals and dolls.  Raggedy
Ann was her favorite.  The curtains were frilled and all the blankets had
a matching, pink design.  
     On the ceiling above the bed were a multitude of stars.  Samantha was
afraid of the dark, often keeping her brother awake at night.  As a result,
Fox had painstakingly painted the stars with glow in the dark colors.  The
job had taken him several days, standing precariously on his sister's bed,
his arms stretching to reach the highest points.  Now, whenever Sam was
awake in the dark, she counted stars.  She had never managed to stay alert
long enough to count them all.
     Samantha yawned loudly.  She was stretched out on her bed, counting.
     "Come on, Fox." she pleaded.  "Just tell me how many stars are
there?"  She yawned again.
     Fox shrugged from his place at his desk.  He was trying to fit two
pieces of plastic air plane together.
     "Don't know.  You'll have to keep counting."  Fox was suddenly
stricken with a yawn himself.
     "I'll never be able to do it." she yawned a third time.
     Fox grinned across the large room, "Probably not.  Because when
you're not looking I'm going add some more."  His eyes twinkled with
mischief.
     "Jerk." his sister teased.
     "Twerp" he answered.  The sudden silence caused Fox to turn in his
chair.  Samantha was sound asleep, a rag doll clutched in one hand.
     Fox tried to work on his model for a few minutes but quickly found
that he couldn't.  His eyes kept drifting shut and he couldn't
concentrate.  Fox sighed, turned out the lights and crawled into bed.  A
moment later, he was asleep as well. 

     Fox awoke some time later to the sound of hard plastic crashing to
the floor.  He was suddenly blinded by a bright light as something came in
through the window.  The noise had been caused by his model falling off the
desk to shatter on the floor.
     Real fear started to creep into the boy's system when he found
himself totally paralyzed.  As he watched helplessly he realized that the
light was a very high powered flashlight.  The beam swept across him and
the room, then crossed to where Samantha still slept.
     A deep voice said, "Take care of the boy." as the bright beam of
light passed Fox's bed.
     As Fox's eyes adjusted, he could make out three figures dressed in
white camouflage.  Each wore strange head gear and goggles, giving them
the big-eyed appearance of bugs.  It was only 1973 and Fox was only
twelve.  He had never seen night vision glasses before.  He barely knew
they existed.
     Two of the figures moved toward Samantha. The third came to Fox's
bedside.  A moment later the boy felt the prick of a needle in his arm. 
He saw the two figures scoop Samantha from her bed and cover her with a
white blanket.  He tried to struggle but could not.  Tears streamed down
his face in frustration.
     A soft voice beside him whispered gently in his ear, "Its all right,
Fox.  She is safe.  We won't harm her."
     The two figures with Samantha moved to the window and began passing
the shrouded child into the night.
     "You didn't see anything." the voice continued in his ear.  "You saw
no one.  You will remember nothing."
     Fox managed a strangled croak of defiance.  The figure at his bedside
sighed sadly.  Suddenly, the ghostly figure reached up and pulled away its
head gear, revealing the lovely face of a woman.  Her auburn colored hair
was pulled back but curling tendrils of red still hung about her kind
face.  
     She tenderly brushed away the tears still flowing down the boy's
cheeks and whispered again. "She is safe, Fox.  Please don't be afraid. 
Sleep now.  Sleep."
     Fox was suddenly struck by an overwhelming sense of young longing. 
This red haired woman was beautiful and he trusted her implicitly.  
     "She is safe, Fox."
     Fox slept.
     
     As Fox struggled toward consciousness he became aware of someone
yelling.  Some one was yelling at him and shaking him violently.  His drug
fogged mind tried to gain some control but the shaking still caused his
head to whip viciously back and forth on his neck. 
     Fox tried to ward off his attacker but firm hands held him tightly by
the arms.
     "Where is she?" his father yelled into his face. "Where is your
sister?"
     Fox began to cry and stuttered through his father's fury. "I...I..I
don't know.  There was a light... a bright light..." 
     "What happened, boy?" his father screamed.
     Fear and confusion were visible on the boy's face as he wailed "I
don't remember!"
     "This is wrong!" the furious man bellowed, shaking his son again for
emphasis.  "This is ALL WRONG!  What happened?"
     "I don't REMEMBER!"

                         *****************

     Fox Mulder woke from the dream clutching his head as if it would
burst.  He was standing in the middle of his apartment clad in nothing but
the faded jeans he had worn to bed.  Mulder fell to his knees in misery as
the memories continued to flow through his mind unfettered.
     Long forgotten words and feelings tumbled through his brain as the
suppressed memories cascaded to the surface all at once.
     He remembered his father flinging him onto his bed.  The man had
stormed to the center of the room, breathing heavily.
     Mulder could now recall his mother's tremulous voice asking, "Bill? 
Where is my baby?"
     His father had not answered.  He had stomped off down the stairs and
called the police.  Never again had he asked his son about that night.  He
had never accused the boy,  never actually blamed him.  But it had always
been that first few moments of consciousness that Mulder had always
remembered.  Those first violent shakes and the yelled question... "Where
is your sister?"
     Curled up on the floor, Mulder moaned and rocked himself.  He
understood everything now.  He had remembered the truth.
     William Mulder had once worked for the government, as his son did
now.  Someone must have wanted to be sure of Bill Mulder's loyalty.  So,
much like the emperors of ancient Rome, they had taken one of his children
hostage.  Bill Mulder had known.  He had been asked to choose which child
would be lost.  They must have assured him of the child's safety for as
long as he co-operated.  Bill Mulder had chosen.
     For some reason, those in charge must have felt it would be more
beneficial to make alternate plans.  At the last minute they had chosen to
take the opposite offspring.
     Mulder groaned again.  Everything was so obvious now.  His father had
drugged him, preparing him for those who would come during the night.  The
drug would have left him helpless, unable to move.
     The pale creatures, the bright light; they had been operatives in
night gear with a high powered flashlight.  They had come through the snow
filled darkness.  But, instead of taking him, as his father had intended,
they had taken Samantha.
     Mulder looked up at the empty room.  "It wasn't my fault." he
whispered.  He slowly pulled himself up to his knees.  "You bastard." he
growled.  "It was NEVER MY FAULT!"
     In a sudden fit of anger he reached out and flipped the coffee
table.  Magazines, newspapers and a stray coffee cup went crashing to the
floor.  He yanked hard on the large bookcase nearby.  Books thumped
heavily to the floor.
     "All these years, you son of a bitch, you let me blame myself!" 
Mulder punctuated his words by repeatedly slamming his fist into the
wall.  "And It wasn't MY fault!"
     Mulder took his anger and frustration out on the unfeeling plaster. 
He attacked the painted surface with such ferocity that imprints of his
knuckles were left on the wall.  The knuckles on Mulder's right hand split
open and began to bleed, leaving bright smears of red against the white
paint.
     Finally, Mulder leaned his forehead against the dented, bloody
surface.  He whimpered fitfully as he struggled to catch his breath. 
After several minutes, he pushed himself away from the wall, angrily
grabbed his shoes and a jacket, then slammed out of the apartment and into
the night.

     "Mulder?"  Scully called as she opened the apartment door.  She had
gotten angry when Mulder hadn't shown up on time this morning.  He had
talked her into working on a Saturday morning and then had failed to make
an appearance himself.  So, she had come to the apartment to get him.  
     Scully was dressed in comfortable jeans and a sweat shirt.  They had
planned to do the 1996 budget for the X-files division today.  All the
paperwork had to be done and submitted to Skinner's office by the 30th. 
If Mulder had come in like he should have, they would be ahead of
schedule, for once.
     Scully's anger evaporated quickly as she looked around Mulder's
apartment.  She had expected to find her partner sleeping in front of the
television.  It was still quite early.  However, Mulder was nowhere to be
found.
     Scully examined the brown stains on the wall and quickly determined
that the blood was from self inflicted wounds.  She could see the small
dents from Mulder's knuckles where he had repeatedly cracked his fists
against the wall.  Scully searched the rest of the apartment, finding
nothing out of the ordinary in any other room.
     Mulder's clothes all hung in the closet.  His gun, still in the
holster was casually hanging on the back of a chair.  The only object
Scully could not find was a set of keys.  Mulder had no doubt left some
time during the night, taking little or nothing along.
     Scully checked Mulder's answering machine and e-mail for clues as to
what could have angered her partner or to where he may have gone.  She
picked up the phone and punched the redial button.  However, that was of
no help.  The last number Mulder had dialed had been her own.  Scully
began making calls, searching for her missing partner.
     Finally, with no other options left to try, Dana tried a last number.
     "Yeah.." was the sleepy sounding answer.
     "It's me." Scully started.  "I know its early but I need a little
help.  Mulder's missing."
     "Again?  Should we be concerned?"
     Scully shrugged. "I'm not sure yet.  You guys haven't seen him
recently have you?"
     "Not for weeks." was the answer.
     "Could you check around a bit?  See if you can find anything?" she
asked.
     "Hold on a sec."  
     Scully waited patiently, listening as Frohike tapped away at a
keyboard.  There were no other sounds for several minutes.  Scully pulled
her wallet out of her pocket to check on her resources and realized she
had very little cash on her.  She would need to go home before she went
after Mulder.  
     Dana was just about to tell the Lone Gunman that she would call him
back when the little man suddenly exclaimed "Ah-Ha."
     "You've got something?" Scully asked.
     "Mulder used a charge card at a gas station around six o'clock this
morning.  He was in Magnolia along the New Jersey Turnpike at an Exxon."
     Scully nodded to herself.  "Anything else?"
     "Sorry."
     Scully made her decision quickly and began gathering her things. 
"I'm going up there.  I'll call you when I get to Magnolia.  Maybe you
will have found something else by the time I get there."
     "Sure thing.  Be careful, Scully."
     "I always am." Dana grinned at the little man's concern.

     It was nearly noon when Dana pulled into the small gas station in New
Jersey.  She filled her tank, bought coffee and a sandwich at the register
and showed the man at the counter a photo.
     "Have you seen this man?"  she asked hopefully.  "He would have been
in here around six this morning."
     The dark haired man frowned at her suspiciously.
     Scully quickly explained, "He's my brother.  He left home with out
his medication.  He could be in serious trouble if I don't find him
soon."  She smiled a sad, worried smile at the attendant.
     "Sorry," the man finally answered.  "My shift started at ten." He
shrugged.  
     Dana nodded.  "Thank you anyway."  She paid for her purchases, went
outside to the pay phone and called DC.
     Before the first ring completed, there was a voice asking "Yeah?"
     "It's me.  I'm in Magnolia."
     "Scully," the little man breathed excitedly.  "Mulder just used his
charge card again.  He's in Boston."
     "When?" she asked.
     "Just a few minutes ago."  
     After getting an address, as well as exquisitely detailed directions,
Scully went back to her car.  She fastened her seatbelt and peeled opened
the lid on her coffee.  She sighed heavily, put the car in gear and began
maneuvering her way back onto the turnpike.

     Dana sighed.  She sat in her car at a gas station in Boston.  There
had been no further clues as to Mulder's where abouts since she had left
New Jersey.  The station's attendant had seen a man fitting Mulder's
description but had been unable to recall which way he had gone.  
     Scully frowned as she watched the busy road ahead of her.  Mulder was
at least five hours ahead of her.  She was loosing ground with each passing
moment.  With a quick nod, Dana brushed her auburn hair away from her face
and decided to continue North, hoping she could get lucky and find some
trace of her missing partner.
     Luck was with her, for Scully had been driving for less than five
minutes when she saw a sign that read "Parkway Cemetery".  Knowing her
hunch was right, Scully turned off the main road and made her way up the
winding drive toward the cemetery.
     As expected, one of the few cars in the parking area was a familiar
grey Taurus with Washington DC plates.  Scully parked and went into the
small reception building nearby.
     "Excuse me?" Scully asked the grey-haired man sitting behind the
desk.  "Did you happen to notice a man in the grey car that's currently in
the parking lot?"
     "Sure.  I noticed 'im 'bout two o'clock."  the man answered
readily.  "I'm not sure how long he'd been sittin' there before that, but
at two I realized he'd been sittin' in that car for some time."
     Scully sighed sadly.  "Did you see him leave?"
     "Yup." the man replied.  "He finally got out and started zig-zagging
his way through the stones."  The older man shook his head
sympathetically.  "He was lookin' for someone, for sure.  He just didn't
seem to want any help in the locating, you know?"
     "Yes. I know."  Scully smiled knowingly and turned to leave before
the man called her back.
     "Miss?  Do you need help finding some one?  I've got all the records
right here."
     "No thank you.  I know where he'll be." she said gratefully.
     "Well, it's just that... well the gates close at dark and I was
wondering..." he began.
     Scully nodded with understanding.  The sky was already greying so,
she didn't have much time.  "I'll try not to be too long.  Thank you for
patience.  You've been very kind."
     Dana quickly left the building and walked down the path toward the
west side of the cemetery.  Before long she rounded a corner and found the
small fountain indicating the area where William Mulder had been buried.  
     Dana stood for a moment before the head stone marking the grave.  It
was a simple stone monument inscribed with only a name and the dates of
both birth and death.  The was no memoriam carved beneath the name, nor
flowers decorating the spot.
     Scully sat on her haunches and gently let her finger tips caress the
stone as she wondered what this man had once been like.
     "Like father like son?" she wondered aloud.
     "He won't answer." the sudden deep voice caused Scully to jump.
     Scully whirled around and found Mulder sitting on the ground.  He had
his back leaning against a headstone.  His knees were pulled up to his
chest so that he had been hidden from view until now.  Dana could see that
he was wearing only jeans and a light jacket.  He had no shirt or socks and
his shoes were untied.  One hand was a bloody mess.  The cuts on Mulder's
knuckles had evidently re-opened several times during the day and had not
been tended. Mulder's hair was matted with blood where he had anxiously
run his bleeding hand across the top of his head.  His eyes had a dull,
blank look to them.
     "Mulder?" Dana crouched beside him, placing one hand on his
shoulder.  "Are you okay?  What happened?"
     Mulder leaned his head back against the cold marble stone.  "A
dream," he moaned.  "A nightmare,  the truth.  It doesn't matter, they are
all the same thing."
     Dana felt a chill run through her.  Mulder seemed so dejected, so
lost,  she felt a sudden urge to cry.  She had to help him somehow.  The
first step was obviously to get him away from the cemetery and get him
cleaned up.
     "Come on, Mulder.  We need to leave now."  she hauled him off of the
ground.  He came along easily as they made their way back to the car.
     Scully made arrangements to pick up Mulder's car the following day,
bustled Mulder in to her own vehicle and went looking for a motel.  Mulder
sat motionless in the passenger seat, staring sightlessly out the window. 
He said nothing.

     They traveled in silence to the nearest motel, a small establishment
where the rooms were situated in rows of long single story buildings. 
Dana opened the door to their room and urged Mulder in ahead of her.   He
stood forlornly just inside the door.
     The space itself was nice enough.  A queen sized bed was at the
center of the room.  A television stood along the wall opposite the bed. 
In one corner was a small utilitarian style dresser.  In the other corner
the was a small round table with two chairs.
There was an alcove to one side, leading to the bathroom.  This wall was
covered with a large mirror over a tiled counter and a sink.  On the
counter stood the standard hotel fair: soaps, shampoo, drinking glasses,
an ice bucket, coffee percolator and a basket of assorted teas and coffees.
     Dana placed the sandwiches she'd ordered at a drive through window on
the table, set her overnight bag on the floor and turned to look at her
partner.
     Mulder still stood in the center of the room, staring at nothing.
     "Here," Scully ordered, handing Mulder the bag she had wisely packed
for him earlier.  "Take a shower then I'll look at your hand."
     Mulder blinked at the bag for a moment before moving, zombie-like, to
the bathroom.  His behavior frightened Scully.  He had become nearly
catatonic,  reacting only to direct commands.
     Mulder emerged from the shower barely five minutes later.  His wet
hair dripped down his back.  He had put his jeans back on without
bothering to dry off so that the denim clung wetly to his thighs.
     Dana held a roast beef sandwich toward him.  "Are you hungry?" she
asked lamely.
     Mulder brushed past her without answering and flopped across the foot
of the bed to stare blankly at the ceiling.
     Scully respected his silence for the moment.  She grabbed her first
aid kit from the table and sat quietly on the bed beside Mulder.  Dana
gently took the torn hand and studied it carefully.
     When Mulder pulled his hand away she said quietly, "It will get
infected."
Dana pulled the sore hand toward her a second time.  However, Mulder
snatched it back, more violently than before.
     Scully began to get angry.  "Mulder, " she scolded.  " Stop.  You're
going to make it bleed again."
     Mulder shook his head forlornly.  "It doesn't matter.  Nothing
matters."
     Scully rose slowly and stood at the foot of the bed to stare at her
partner.  "Mulder, You're starting to frighten me."  Dana said, trying to
remain calm.  "I've never seen you so..." she struggled to find the right
word, "... defeated."
     Mulder sat up straight as anger flashed in his eyes.  "It was all
lies, Scully." he growled.  "All of it.  There were no alien beings. 
There never have been."
     Scully stared in shock at the man before her.
     Mulder went on, louder, "The cornerstone of everything I believe in
has been totally swept away... by a dream!"
     Mulder fell back against the mattress, arms flung wide.
     "It was only a dream, Mulder." Scully replied feebly.
     He shook his head sadly and placed the palms of his hands against his
eyes.  "No.  It was a repressed memory.  The REAL memory." 
      Dana felt completely helpless.  Sitting carefully bedside him,  she
pulled gently at the bruised hand.  As she examined the wounds over
Mulder's knuckles she said softly,  "It doesn't mean you can give up." 
She let her hair cascade across her face so that he could not read her
expression.
     "You don't understand."  Mulder moaned.
     "Tell me." she said simply.
     Mulder shook his head slowly and half turned away.  
     "No, Mulder."  Dana whispered.  She put one hand on his shoulder and
pulled him around to face her.  "No more.."  
     Mulder looked up at her with soulful, mourning eyes.  When Dana
brushed a lock of hair from his forehead,  the tenacious hold he had on
his emotions began to break.  
     "Dana, "  Mulder took her hand and held it in his own.  "He lied to
me.  Just like all the others.  He was one of Them."
     "I know." Dana replied.  She then gave in to a sudden urge, bent over
and kissed him on the cheek were a small tear had escaped one eye.
     Mulder reacted as though he had been shocked.  He jumped visibly and
flinched away.  
     Dana watched his reaction for a moment before whispering,  "Kisses
are not supposed to hurt."
     Mulder looked away quickly before answering,  "In my experience, 
I've found that  they always do, eventually."
     Mulder lay motionless on the bed,  looking up at Dana for what seemed
an eternity.  
     Dana moved first.  Instead of moving away, she moved closer and
kissed Mulder gently on the lips.
     Mulder gasped breathlessly,  "Dana, don't.  I..."
     Dana peppered his cheeks with feathery light kisses,  moving across
his closed eyes and back to his mouth.  She murmured against his lips, "Do
you really want me stop?"
     Even as he answered hoarsely, "Yes." he began to return her kisses.
     "But I don't want to," she said honestly.  Her hands began to explore
the still damp skin on his chest and stomach.
     Mulder groaned against her mouth and pulled her closer.  His hands
quickly found the bottom of her blouse and began to caress the soft skin
at the small of her back.
     Dana was more bold.  She let her hands feel every inch of Mulder's
arms and chest, lingering for the slightest moment on the scars on his
shoulder and stomach.  She let her fingers curl through the line of hair
which started above his navel.  Mulder gasped in a combination of shock
and delight as Dana's searching fingers followed the line down his stomach
and below his waistband.
     Mulder suddenly grabbed Scully by the arms and pushed her away
roughly.  For a long minute they stared at each other, breathing hard. 
Mulder swallowed hard as he looked into Dana's burning eyes.
     Leaping quickly from the bed, Mulder crossed the room to stare
sightlessly out the window.  He ran his hands through his hair several
times as he fought to calm his shaken nerves. 
     Dana turned her back shamefully, but continued to watch Mulder
through his reflection in the mirror.  She put one hand to her burning
cheeks, hoping that by sheer force of will she could reduce the blush that
crept across her skin.
     They sat in awkward silence for several minutes before Dana finally
rose.  She went to Mulder and, using the first aid kit from her car, began
to wrap gauze around his hand.  Taking two small steps away, Mulder deftly
slipped from her grasp once again.
     Scully sighed loudly, "Mulder, if you don't let me bandage that hand
I'll take you to the emergency room and have them do it for you."
     "I'm fine, Scully." he replied, smiling slightly as if to prove his
point.
     Anger flared up in Dana and though she tried to squelch it, her ire
could be heard in her voice.  "You're not fine, Mulder.  As long as you
try to do this on your own, you won't be fine."
     Mulder turned and walked to the other side of the room,  Wrapping
gauze around his hand carelessly as he went.  "Frankly, Agent Scully, it's
not really your problem so let's just drop it, okay?"  he said dryly.
     His comment struck right on target.  The familiar look of rage flowed
across Scully's face.  Mulder nearly smiled.  His partner thought she was
so controlled,  so disciplined.  But Mulder could read her thoughts and
emotions as though they'd been posted on a billboard.
     Dana angrily tossed the first aid kit onto the bed.  Bandages and
ointments bounced in all directions.  Mulder watched her with the same
lazy, uncaring look he gave taunting coworkers.  This look only served to
fuel Dana's anger.
     "Fine."  she growled,  her eyes spitting flame.  "That's what you
want me to say isn't it?" she moved quickly across the room and shoved
hard with both hands against his chest.  "You want me to just say 'fine,
deal with it yourself'."  She pushed him again.  "You want to push me away
and make me leave you alone." she seethed, shoving at him again.
     "Stop it." he said meekly, grabbing her by the wrist.
     Dana reacted even more violently, slapping his hand away and shoving
him again so that he collided with the wall.
     "I won't." she swore.  "I won't stop."  Dana was shaking visibly in
anger.  "You're very important to me and I won't let you push me away."  
     A single tear of angry frustration spilled down Dana's cheek.  Mulder
gazed at his partner in awe and fully realized, for the first time, that
this woman could kill.  She could kill a man without thinking twice. 
Hell, she'd even shot him once without hesitating for a moment.  Part of
Mulder's mind wondered if she had her gun.
     Dana raged on.  "I won't give up on you, Mulder.  I'm going to go
right on worrying about you and protecting you and following you on these
stupid escapades of yours."  Suddenly her anger evaporated.  She swallowed
hard and kept talking.  "I'm not going to betray your trust or leave you
behind.  I'm not going to disappear in the middle of the night."  she
promised softly.
     Mulder looked at her with uncertainty in his eyes.  "You never know
what can happen, Scully.  You never know."
     Dana's shoulders dropped and she moved close to her partner,  placing
one hand against his chest.  "I know that you mean a great deal to me,
Mulder.  I care for you in a way that's greater than just partnership or
friendship.  Why can't you just accept those feelings from me?"
     Mulder swallowed hard,  his hands fluttered awkwardly.  "Scully,
I...."
     "I love you, Mulder."  she whispered, then hurried on.  "It's not
that I want to make love with you,  it's not at all like that."
     Mulder backed slowly away as Dana spoke so that he found himself in a
corner with a chair between them.
     "Let me care for you, Mulder.  Let me take care of you."  
     Mulder closed his eyes and slid down the wall until he was sitting on
the floor.  Dana felt a shiver run down her spine as he looked up at her
again with a far away look in his eyes.
     He laughed sadly.  "I don't know how." He pressed the palms of his
hands against his eyes until he saw spots.  "I really don't know how." he
repeated.
     Dana sat down next to him, taking his good hand in her own.  "We are
detectives.  I think we may be able to figure it out."
     Mulder smiled sadly,  "I'm not so sure."
     "I am." Dana returned the smile and lay her head against Mulder's
shoulder.  
     Mulder sighed.  He closed his eyes and put his cheek against the top
of Scully's head.  They sat together that way for a long time.  Mulder was
semi-aware that Dana was inspecting his bandaged hand.  
     He smiled crookedly and said, "I can't believe you kissed me that
way."
     Dana pulled back slightly so that she could look up at him.  "I
needed to get your attention somehow." She smiled.
     Mulder scooted further down to lay his head on her shoulder.  He was
surrounded by the smell of her shampoo.  
     "What if .." Mulder frowned.  "what if we had... continued that
particular train of thought?"
     Dana grinned.  "Well, I suppose we'd both be a lot less tense."    
     Mulder laughed out loud and hugged her tight.
     After a long comfortable silence, Dana asked, "Are you going to tell
me what started this?"
     "Just a dream." Mulder said, shrugging noncommittally, as he got up
and crossed the room.  In mid-stride he stopped suddenly and turned to
stare at Scully fearfully.   "I just did it again, didn't I?" he said,
referring to the invisible walls that had sprung up around him.
     Scully nodded sadly.
     Mulder sat dejectedly on the bed.  His lower lip trembled and Dana
feared he was about to cry.  She got up and went to him, placing one hand
reassuringly on his arm.  Mulder responded by taking her wrist and pulling
her down onto bed.  He gently pushed her back against the mattress.  He lay
his head pillowed on her stomach and curled his body around her legs.
     Mulder then began to talk.  Scully protectively caressed the back of
his head as he told her everything.  She couldn't see his face but she
could hear the heavy sadness in his voice as he recounted every detail he
could remember.  He told her about the sandwich and Samantha's stars.  He
described the model airplane and the winter camouflage worn by the
abductors.  He repeated the words his father had yelled that night. 
Mulder even told her of things he had learned earlier but hadn't shared at
the time.  The only facts he withheld were about the woman who had
whispered in his ear that night.  For some strange, unfathomable reason,
he didn't tell Scully that he had seen the woman's face.
     The sunrise was just visible through the heavy curtains by the time
Mulder had finished his story.
     "You can't be sure, Mulder.  You can't be sure that you were the
intended victim of that abduction." Dana tried to soothe him.
     "Yes." Mulder nodded sadly.  "I'm sure."  After a pause he added,
"Remember all those files?  Remember the one with Samantha's name?  My
name was initially on that file.  I was the one they were to take at
first."
     "Do you think she is still alive?"  Dana asked, referring to
Samantha. "Do you think she is safe?"
     "I don't see why not."  Mulder shrugged.
     Dana smiled.  "You just need to hold on to that.  You can still find
her."
     Mulder buried his face in Dana's shirt.  "I am so tired, Scully.  So
much time and energy wasted on blaming myself... I'm just so tired of it
all."
     "Then you should sleep." Dana whispered, caressing his hair.  "She is
safe and everything will be alright.  Just sleep for now."
     As Dana held him tightly, Mulder remembered another beautiful woman
from long ago who had said the same words.  Mulder shivered and hugged
Dana back fiercely.  It wasn't until long after Dana had drifted off that
Mulder finally took her advice and slept.


****END****