Difficulties Under Heaven: Part06. (Final Part).
By KMNAHILL and MD1016

Disclaimers found in Part 01.  

Cut out doors and windows to make a room,
but it is in the spaces where there is nothing
that the usefulness of the room lies.
Therefore,
Benefit may be derived from something,
but it is in nothing that we find usefulness.

-Tao Te Ching



Room #618.
11:58 PM.

     The phone startled them back to reality.  Scully leapt off of
her partner and stumbled to the phone. 

     "Hello?"

     "Hello, my dear, you're sounding a little groggy.  Did you
have a nice sleep?"

     Scully breathed through a smile at the joviality of Dr. Moore's
voice and looked at Mulder, "Yes, it was wonderful."  Mulder,
however, wasn't fairing as well.  The angle of the sofa's arm had
stressed his neck and shoulders at angles previously foreign to
them.  He growled and rubbed the tender muscles while he
listened to Scully on the phone.

     "Good to hear.  Good to hear."  There was a mounting
excitement in his voice that pulled Scully's heart in to her throat. 
"I need you and Mr. Mulder to get here as soon as is humanly
possible.  I think I may have found a possible answer to your
health problems, and I want to go over my findings with you. 
But first, write down this name and number."

     Scully scrounged the small desk for a pad and pencil, and
took down the information Moore dictated to her.  "You have an
appointment tomorrow morning with this man.  He's a good
doctor, and an honest man; and I need the new tests so I can
monitor if this new therapy has any kind of significant effect."

     Mulder came up behind her and held his breath at the
sanguine expression she wore.  "We'll be there soon, Dr. Moore. 
Thank you."  Then she leapt in to Mulder's arms.  

****************
February 3, 1996.
Chicago, Ill.
855 49th Street, plot # 11
12:30 AM.

     The warehouse looked deceptively abandoned.  Its dark,
neglected features had long since lost their original color and
sharp angles.  The only light in the area came from the car
headlights, as they cut through the bitter morning chill.  

     Mulder followed Scully's directions, turning left and then
right, and then following the alley until they hit the small circular
enclosure.  A bright green 1966 Buick, dulled by the blanket of
night, sat precociously next to the waving figure of a little round
man.  Scully couldn't resist a wave back to him, knowing that he
couldn't see her in the cabin.

     Mulder pulled in next to Dr. Moore and cut the ignition.

     Without warning, without a sound, the blinding flash of light
swept over them like a tidal wave.  Instinctively Scully went to
shield her eyes, but the very next conscious moment later, she
was sitting several hundred feet from the car, enveloped in the
cold and dark of the February morning.  

     Her head throbbed without mercy, her wrists and ankles
ached with strain.  The biting chill of the air stung her lungs
when she called out for Mulder.  When there was no response
she wobbled to her unsteady feet and stumbled towards the
headlights of the car.  Somewhere between where she had been
and where she was going, she fell over Mulder lying spread
eagle on the cement.

     "Ooh."  His breathed response told her that he was still alive.

     "Mulder!  Mulder!  Wake up!  Are you okay?"   Quickly her
fingers scanned his body for obvious wounds.

     "Scully?  What happened?"  He sat up, disorientated, holding
her arms for balance and the comfort of knowing that she was
still there with him.  "There was a light . . .."

     All at once Scully bolted from his grasp and ran towards the
cars.  "Dr. Moore!"  she cried, his spherical form painfully absent
from the area.  "Dr. Moore!"

     "Scully," Mulder called to her, before he could manage to get
his legs to support him again.  "Scully, wait!"

     "He's gone, Mulder!"  Her voice was beyond panic, beyond
terror.  "He's gone!

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


     "We've lost time, Scully. It was going onto one when we got
here. It's almost three now," said Mulder as he glanced at his
watch.

     "What do you think happened?"

     "You know the answer to that. The real question is what
happened to Moore and what happened while we were out of it."
He looked worriedly into her face. Moore had told them that he
had news that could save Scully and now that news was gone,
along with the man who might have had the answers for them.
"Where are you going?"

     Scully had started moving to the door of the lab. "I want to
see if there's anything left that we could use."

     "Scully, I can come back here after we get you checked out
at the hospital. I think that's more of a priority right now."

     "Mulder, you've got to be kidding. There probably isn't
anything left in the lab but I'd be willing to bet that whatever
might have been, will be gone by the time we get back. I'm fine.
Now, are you coming with me?" She moved with determination
towards the door.

     After a small sigh, Mulder followed, pulling out his flashlight.
It proved unnecessary, however, since Scully found that the
electricity was still working by flipping the lightswitch. The room
was surprisingly neat. "I thought it would have been ransacked
for some reason," said Scully as she moved to look through the
paperwork on the desk.

     "I have a feeling that Moore was carrying all the data he had
about his theory. It was too important to him. I'll take the hard
drive from his computer, though. The guys might have some
luck lifting the memory." Mulder walked over to the machine to
disconnect the cables.

     Scully was looking over the books which lined the walls on
floor to ceiling shelves. She stopped when she came upon a
small picture frame with two yellowing photos tucked inside.
They were pictures of a young woman with dark hair and a small
girl of about eight. She caught her breath as she recognized the
eyes of  Dr. Moore staring back at her. 

     "What'd you find?" asked Mulder as he sidled up beside her.

     "I'm not sure but I think I know who they are," she answered
in a distracted whisper. She put the frame into her pocket.

     "C'mon, Scully. Let's get to the hospital. I've got a headache
that would stop traffic. I'd be willing to bet you have one too." He
grinned as she tried to deny it but couldn't. Her head was
throbbing.


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

Cook County General Hospital
3rd Floor Waiting room.
10:45 AM.



     "Nothing, Mulder. I can't believe that there's nothing wrong
now!" Scully shook her head in disbelief. She looked through the
lab reports she had commandeered from the hospital staff. "All
the results are within normal limits; the ACTH levels, the liver
enzymes, everything."

     "What did the scans show?"

     "The same. Nothing outside of the normal parameters. For
both of us, thank God."

     Mulder leaned forward to touch her cheek. "I told you I was
OK, Scully."

     "Mulder, we had no way of knowing whether they took this
opportunity to give you one of those implants. We had to know
for sure." She shifted on the hard plastic of the chairs which
were common in most hospital waiting rooms. She was so tired.

     Mulder grinned, then broke out into a chuckle. The
incongruent sound rattled Scully's frayed composure. Moore was
gone; Janet and the baby were gone; whatever evidence Moore
had compiled was probably gone, and Mulder was laughing!
There had been a light; they had lost time. Mulder might have
been used as she had been, yet there he was -- laughing.

     "Mind letting me in on the joke?" she asked in a sharp edge
voice.

     In reply, he pulled her out of the chair and gathered her to
him, coaxing her stiff body to relax against his. "I was picturing
the look on the ER staff's collective faces when you bullied your
way in here and started ordering those tests. Skinner's going to
be soothing ruffled feathers for the rest of the week." He kissed
her forehead.

     The man was insane. There could be no other explanation
for it, she thought. On the other hand, if she had to be stuck with
a madman, at least he was her madman. She smiled as she
hugged him back.


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


      They made their way to the seventh floor in order to keep
the appointment Moore had made for them with Dr. Haluji
Kokaji. Both were weary from lack of sleep and emotional
upheavals. Spending time becoming intimately familiar with the
hospital's lab, didn't improve their mood. They knew, however,
they had to find out what Moore had discussed with his
colleague. They still might salvage something from this trip.

     The elevator doors opened to chaos. On the far end of the
hall, stood several doctors, nurses and orderlies gawking at
uniformed police officers moving in and out of a nearby office.
The flash of a camera could be seen coming from the open
door.

     The agents glanced worriedly at each other as they reached
for their IDs.

     They flipped the badges to the first uniformed officer who
directed them to a burly, African-American man wearing a
slightly rumpled suit and tie. His name was Larry Burke.

     "Detective Burke? I'm Fox Mulder. This is my partner,
Special Agent Dana Scully. Can I ask what happened here?"

     "FBI? We didn't call the Bureau," said Burke sourly.

     "We realize that, Detective," replied Scully in a placating
tone. She forced the tired muscles in her face to smile. "We had
an appointment with a Dr. Haluji Kokaji regarding a case we're
investigating."

     "I don't think Dr. Kokaji will be keeping that appointment. We
got a call about two hours ago. Housekeeping found the office
ransacked. I mean this place was destroyed! Administration
telephoned Kokaji to notify him and got no answer. I just got a
call from the guys we sent to his place. Looks like someone left
in a hurry. There was a half-eaten meal left on the kitchen
table." Burke gave the agents a sly look. "I don't suppose you
guys would be willing to tell me what you were investigating?"

     "I don't think we have anything you could use, Detective,"
Mulder replied. The grim expression on his face spoke
eloquently of his frustration. He took a moment to look into the
office and then pulled a card from his wallet. He handed it to
Burke. "Please send copies of your report and the forensics to
this address." Before Burke could argue, Mulder put his hand
under Scully's arm and steered her down the hallway.

     "Mulder, don't you think we should stay here and see if we
can find anything?"

     "Scully, you know as well as I do that we're not going to find
anything. We're too late." He impatiently jabbed the button for
the elevator. "I think Moore made a mistake in his estimation
about Dr. Kokaji's honesty. It may be that phone call he made
was what tipped off our friends."

     Scully hung her head, letting his words filter through mind. 
She knew he was right. "Now what?"

     "We go home. There's nothing left for us here."

     Without another word, she followed him into the waiting
elevator.

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


Epilogue.

     As the sun set behind the low fence, Scully sighed and rested
her chin in her hands.  It had been a long two weeks, and even
though Mulder had been ridiculously adamant in seeing to her
rest and recuperation for entire three days following their return
from Chicago, Scully still felt a little tired and achy.  Not that
she'd ever admit that to Mother Hen Mulder.

     Margaret slid the hot chocolate to her daughter and seated
herself next to her at the breakfast table.  Mentally, she noted
the puffiness under Dana's eyes.  But the color in her cheeks
and her dry humor was returning to the only daughter left alive
and again she thanked god for Fox Mulder and his seemingly
endless devotion to Dana.  She didn't know many of the details
of their latest investigation, nor did she wish to.  The simple
knowledge that Dana was in trouble and Fox was there with her -
helping her - was enough.  "How is Fox?"

     "He's fine, Mom."  Dana smiled her infamous toothless smile
and cradled the steaming cup in her hands.  "He's finishing up
on the paper work, believe it or not."  She swirled the dark liquid
sinking a melted marshmallow with her finger.  "I'm really
enjoying his sudden burst of pampering.  More than I thought I
would."  She chuckled to herself and looked up her mother. 
"You know, Mom, you must be the last person in the US who
makes hot chocolate from scratch.  I love that."

     "It's worth the effort."  Margaret's heart smiled and it was
reflected on her face.  "You're looking better.  Maybe pampering
is what you needed.  You wear it well."

     "Oh," Scully chortled, "I'm not getting used to it, Mom.  I'll be
back to finishing up the paperwork and sorting out his impossibly
unorganized notes and all of the other stuff soon enough, I'm
sure.  Do you know he actually did my laundry?"  

     "No!"

     With a satisfied nod she added, "He even separated the
delicate from the colors, and *folded* my socks."

     Margaret laughed, clapping her hands.  "Oh, Dana, marry
him now!  You can't let him get away!" 

     Through a half-hearted smiled, she looked down in to her
mug. "He's not going to get away, Mom."  Without either of them
knowing the exact reason why, the air in the room suddenly felt
twice as heavy.  Dana's half-cocked smile tried to lighten the
mood, "I've got handcuffs, remember?"  The cover didn't entirely
work.  Margaret caught the fleeting tightening of her daughter's
throat.

     "Dana?"

     Quickly trying to change the subject, Scully motioned to the
mug, "How do you keep the chocolate from burning before it's
melted enough to add the milk?"

     With one hand Margaret reached out and stopped the lame
attempt.  "Why won't you tell me what's bothering you, Dana?"

     Giving her best evasive shrug, Scully said, "There's nothing
to talk about.  I'm fine, Mom."  

     Sitting back, Margaret eyed her daughter.  Scully knew there
was no way out of this conversation and she exhaled.  "No,
Dana.  When I said that about you marrying Fox, I was just . . . I
didn't mean anything by it.  He treats you well because he loves
you so much, that's all I meant."

     "I know."

     The innuendo wouldn't lie still for long.  Margaret raised her
eyebrows and ran a finger around the lip of her mug, "Not that I
wouldn't like seeing you two married.  Maybe with a baby or
two."

     Dana shot up in the chair, "Mom!"

    "Especially now that you've decided not to keep your
relationship a secret.  But if you two have decided for whatever
reason," Margaret raised her hands in mock defeat, "not to go
that route, I certainly respect your decision."  Sipping her
chocolate, Scully nodded and looked out the bay window.  "You
have," Margaret was amazed at the courage she found to ask,
"talked about it, though.  And the two of you *did* make the
choice together, right?"

     Scully closed her eyes and slumped back in her chair.  How
did her mother do that?  She *always* knew the right questions
to ask - the ones Dana didn't particularly *want* to answer.  "We
haven't . . . actually talked about it, no."  She looked up at her
mother's caring eyes that didn't betray one ounce of shock. 
"Things hadn't been going so well between us for the last few
months.  The strain of the job, the secretive relationship, they
were difficult to deal with and keep the work from suffering at
the same time."  Her mother nodded for her to continue.  "And I
wasn't feeling . . . like me.  And, well," she inhaled deeply, "we
never really talked about it."

     "But now that things are better -"

     "No, probably not now, either."  Dana felt the question her
mother wanted to ask, but none came.  "Mom, things are too
complicated.  I'm seeing a doctor, a *hypnotherapist* of all
things, to try and help me . . . work through the time that I
missed.  And then there is the doctor that we met in Chicago,
the one who was abducted.  His family is in California, and I
want to go out there to find them.  And then of course, there's
the normal work load that keeps us so busy.  And the search for
his sister -"

     "I see."  Setting her mug back on the table, Margaret looked
out the window to the empty bird feeder nailed haphazardly to
the large hammocked pine tree.

     "And anyway," Scully added in a small voice, "I don't think
we're really the marrying type."

     Margaret nodded, "Yes, I see.  You both have a lot of really
good excuses."  Scully's eyes shot up at her mother's remark,
but only a sad look of realization met her.  "Well, maybe
someday, when you both aren't quite so busy."

     Scully only nodded.  

     The knock on the door startled the two women, and they
giggled at the small jump that shook them both.  Margaret rose
and answered the door with a smile.  "Fox!"

     "Hi."  He offered her a brief hug and his best shy smile, "I
know you're having a mother/daughter night, but I just wanted to
stop by and pick up the photos from Scully."

     "Come in, Fox, you're always welcome here."  She gently
pulled him through the door.

     Scully's sheepish, "Hey," greeted him in the archway of the
breakfast room.  Her head rested contentedly against the wall. 
"You couldn't stay away from me for a second, huh?"

     He shrugged, "What can I say?  I'm hooked."  He stopped
across the room from her to take in the sight of her.  "You look
great."

     "I'm starting to feel like a real person again."

     He stepped towards her, "You've always been a real person,
Scully."  She shook her head, but he ran his palm across her
cheek, and stepped in closer to her.  His voice lowered to barely
a whisper and the gravely tone caught in her ear.  "You are the
realest person in my life."

     She blinked the tears away and ran her hand across his.  "I'll
get you the pictures."  From her purse in the living room she
pulled the two color photographs, and spoke in a careful, but
decided voice.  "I want to see them, Mulder."

     "What?"  He quickly turned his attention to Scully and her
determined  face.  It was clear of all the confusion and anxiety
that had for the last week - no, the last year - lived there.  She
was becoming the old Scully again.  The one he first fell in love
with.  Strong, and assertive, and damn hard to figure out
sometimes.

     She exhaled, "I guess I feel an obligation to them, and to Dr.
Moore.  We have to find him; get him back."  

     There was no question in his mind.  "We will."

     Scully ran a finger over the dark chestnut hair of the woman,
and her oval face turned to the pre-teen at her side.  "He wanted
to find them, Mulder.  Now, I need to do it for him."

     Mulder shook his head, "Why?  How do you know they want
to be found?  We don't know the circumstances . . . people don't
become estranged for no reason -"

     "Some people do."  She looked up to the sound of her
mother's humming in the kitchen.  The clattering of plates on the
table brought back memories of a bustling family setting down to
their evening meal.  "I can't explain it, Mulder, but I need to see
them.  And talk to them."

     Mulder bit the inside of his cheek.  This didn't bode well.  He
was overjoyed that Scully was feeling better.  But because of
her returning health, she had adamantly refuse to take any time
off at all to recuperate.  He had acceded to her request for their
normal work load with the stipulation that she would promise not
to push herself too far too fast, and that she would see a friend
of his who specialized in hypnotherapy.  Looking up long-lost
family members of an abducted doctor somehow never ended
up in his version of the equation.  "Scully, what about the
hypnoregression?"

     She looked up at him, "I'll continue it once I get back."

     The concern on his face was easy to read, "Back?"

     She knew what he was going to say, but she forged ahead,
anyway.  "They live in Oregon.  I'm not sure where, but I don't
think they should be that hard to find."

     He placed a hand over hers, "I don't think that's a good idea. 
I mean, what would you say to them, anyway?  What would you
tell them?"

     "That he loved them."  She shrugged.  "You're not going to
change my mind, Mulder, and I'd rather have you come with me
rather than stand in my way on this one."  She watched his
glance fall back to the photo, "If someone hadn't told Missy all
those years ago how much we loved her and missed her, she
might never have come home."  Her guilty mind forced her to
look down to the smiling face stilled in her hand, "Of course,
then she wouldn't have been . . .."

     "Dinner is ready.  Fox, I'm assuming you'll be joining us,"
Mrs. Scully swept out of the kitchen, "And don't think of making
up some excuse.  We're having lasagna.  I know you like
lasagna."  She smiled her motherly smile that he simply couldn't
deny.

     The three of them sat down at the table, and Mulder did the
honors of serving the women in his life.  Thinking idly how
wonderful it would be to have his own mother at the table.  And
then of course, Samantha.  God, Samantha.  Scully and
Samantha; his family.



The End of Difficulties Under Heaven.


***Thank you for staying tuned.  Look for the sequel - The Gate of All
Wonders.  Coming soon.***