TITLE: Blood Ties 12: By the Road We Came
AUTHOR: Dawn
EMAIL: sunrise83@comcast.net
WEBSITE: http://dawnsunrise.tripod.com/
ARCHIVE: Gossamer, Jeopardy--others are fine, just let
me know.
RATING: PG-13
CLASSIFICATION: XA
KEYWORDS: MSR, AU
SUMMARY: Mulder's knowledge of alien abductions
becomes up close and personal. Can he make the long
journey home?
DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, and Skinner belong to
Chris Carter and 1013 Productions. No copyright
infringement is intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: At the end.
FEEDBACK: I'd love to hear from you.


Blood Ties 12: By the Road We Came (Prologue)
By Dawn

Give me your hand, my brother, search my face;
Look in these eyes lest I should think of shame;
For we have made an end of all things base.
We are returning by the road we came.

"To My Brother" Seigfried Sassoon (1918)


PROLOGUE


Holiday Lake State Park
Outside Lynchburg VA
2:43 AM


"At the risk of sounding pissy, Fox--why are we here?"

Mulder abandoned the leaf he'd been shredding and slowly
turned to Grey. His face bore the blank, slightly amused
expression that inevitably signaled a smartass remark.

"Well, that would depend."

"Depend? On what?"

"Whether you're speaking geographically...or cosmically."

A soft snort drew Grey's attention past his brother's
shoulder just in time to catch the roll of Dana's eyes.
Propped against a log, her clothing rumpled and a smudge
of dirt on her cheek, she looked as weary as Grey felt.

"See, darlin', that's why I admire Fox so much. He's never
one to get bogged down in small details, always looking at
the big picture." An elbow to the ribs turned his brother's
smirk to a gasp. "How 'bout you start simple and we'll
move on to the meaning of life stuff if we have time?"

Fox selected another leaf for torture, eyes abruptly dark and
humorless. "You know why."

"I knew why we were here at seven. I even knew why at
ten. But it's going on three in the morning, Fox."

"The timing is right. She's going to be returned tonight.
You know that; the evidence is too solid to dispute."

Grey heaved a sigh, tugging the baseball cap from his head
and running his fingers through his hair. "I know the
pattern, yes--a child disappears without a trace, then returns
forty-eight hours later."

"To the same location." Mulder gestured at the campfire's
cold ashes with a jab of his hand. "Paige Thompson was
abducted from this very spot Friday night. It's been forty-
eight hours. Hence our presence, here, now." He lifted an
eyebrow. "Shall we move on to the meaning of life stuff?"

Grey kept his voice even. "It's been more than forty-eight
hours. Paige disappeared at around five in the evening. In
every case so far, the kids have been returned within a
couple hours of the forty-eight hour mark." He shifted,
wincing. "As my numb ass can attest, we passed that point
hours ago. Enough is enough."

Mulder tipped his head back and stared up at the stars, jaw
clenched. "It's never enough, Grey. Not when you're the
one left behind."

Bereft of a reply, Grey watched Scully run her hand down
his brother's arm and tangle their fingers together. "Mulder,
you know Grey wants this to work as much as we do. But
he's right; something should have happened by now. We've
been here nearly twelve hours. Just how long do you intend
to wait?"

Eyes locked, a silent conversation passed between them.
Grey turned away, almost, but not quite used to the feeling
of exclusion when their universe narrowed to each other.

After a moment, his brother let out a soft puff of air and his
shoulders slumped. "Okay, okay. Even I have to admit this
place has lost its allure. Let's go." He stood up, extending
one hand to Scully while the other dusted off the seat of his
jeans.

Grey grimaced at twanging back muscles as he hauled
himself to his feet. He shouldered his backpack and
motioned for his brother and Dana to lead the way,
swatting an errant mosquito that thumbed its nose at his
liberal application of "Deep Woods Off." They trudged
wearily through trees and a fine mist hovering where sun-
warmed earth met cool night air.

Mulder brooded, his rigid spine and brisk stride a clear
rebuff to communication. Scully endured his taciturn
silence for several minutes before plunging ahead anyway.
"Mulder, we were right to act on the information we had.
There's no reason to believe our presence here had any
impact on Paige's return."

Grey's eyebrows soared. "Is that why you've got your
panties in a twist? You think we're the reason nothing
happened tonight?" When Mulder didn't respond, he shook
his head. "Fox, you can't possibly--"

Mulder cut him off with a sharp swipe of his hand. "Think
about it for a minute. We've already identified the pattern--
a child is abducted, MIA for forty-eight hours, then
returned. In the cases we've been able to document, there's
been little or no variation to that sequence of events. Until
now." He stopped, propping hands on hips. "What's the one
variable in this case that makes it different from all the
others? You tell me."

Grey opened his mouth to argue, took in Dana's stricken
expression, and shut it. His brother's lips compressed to a
thin line and he nodded, then resumed walking. "That's
what I thought."

Scully sighed, following with Grey at her side. "Mulder, we
had to try. You know that."

Mulder's chin dropped and his steps slowed. "In my head.
But, Scully, if our presence here tonight altered the course
of events..."

Grey kicked a broken tree branch out of the way. "I had
someone watching Kira's house when Claire was returned,
remember? That certainly didn't seem to muck up the
process."

Mulder shook his head, his reply short and impatient.
"Outside. Not in her bedroom, six feet from where she
disappeared."

"C'mon! I can't imagine--"

"I can. I've read the accounts, Grey, talked to people
who've been there. Who've endured the experiments, the
tests." He stopped, directing his words to Scully. "Dwayne
Barry, Penny Northern...Max Fenig." Running a hand over
his face, he turned back to his brother. "I've heard more
than enough to imagine what it must be like, the pain, the
fear. Damn it, I'm just saying that if we've done anything to
delay that little girl making it home..."

Light flared, slicing through mist and shadow, blinding in
its intensity. Grey staggered backward, hands reflexively
coming up to shield his eyes. Then, just as abruptly,
darkness returned and he was left blinking at the spots
chasing themselves across his vision. His brother's voice
pierced the confusion.

"Damn it! I knew we should've waited!"

"Mulder! Mulder, wa... Damn it, Mulder! Slow down."

Grey's caught a glimpse of copper hair as Dana dashed
after Fox, who had already disappeared back the way they'd
come at breakneck speed. Swearing under his breath as he
stumbled over tree roots and slipped on damp leaves, Grey
followed.

By the time he reached the campsite, Scully was kneeling
beside the little girl's limp body while Mulder tried to coax
a signal from the cell phone he'd extracted from his
backpack. Scully's hands moved with confident efficiency
as she checked the child's respiration, pulse, and pupils.

"She's alive, but completely unresponsive. Vitals are weak.
Mulder, we need to get her out of here, right now."

Mulder stabbed the phone's buttons, growling in frustration.
"I can't get a signal. Must be the trees--it worked back at
the car." He hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to
the other.

Crouched down beside Scully, Grey gritted his teeth at the
tangle of dark curls framing a small, pale face. "Go." He
flicked his hand toward the parking lot, then stood and
shrugged out of his backpack, tossing it to his brother. "I'll
carry her back. You worry about getting an ambulance."

A quick dip of his head and Fox took off.

Fifty minutes later the EMTs had stabilized Paige and were
lifting her onto a gurney for transport. Scully consulted
with the paramedic for a moment before returning to where
Mulder and Grey leaned against the car.

"They're taking her to Mercy Hospital in Lynchburg. I said
I'd follow."

Mulder chewed on his lip for a moment before speaking. "I
was hoping to go over the area now. In another hour this
place will be swarming with police and park rangers who
have no idea what's really happened here. They could wind
up trampling what little evidence exists."

Scully frowned. "I can't stay, Mulder. I'll need to brief the
doctors on everything we've learned about her condition
and treatment."

"Not a problem--Grey can drive you. I'll poke around here
for a bit; talk to the locals when they show up."

Scully was shaking her head before he'd finished speaking.
"That's out of the question. There's no way I'm leaving you
alone out here, without back up."

"Scully..."

"Forget it, Mulder. Every time I let you fly solo something
bad happens. And let's face it--your track record with
wooded areas leaves a lot to be desired."

Grey held up a hand before his brother could continue the
argument. "Hang on, hang on a minute. There's an easy
solution to this. Dana, you catch a ride with the paramedics.
I'll stay to help Fox and we'll join you at the hospital later."

Scully hesitated, arms folded tightly across her chest.
Before she could answer, one of the EMTs approached
them.

"Agent Scully? We're all set. ETA should be about 30
minutes, if you'd like to follow us."

She smiled, her troubled expression switching to cool
professionalism. "Actually I could use a lift, if that would
be all right."

The paramedic, whose nametag identified him as "Topher,"
mulled over the request for a moment before nodding with
a wry grin. "I guess that would be all right, considering the
fact you're a doctor and a fed. You can ride up front with
Steve."

"Thank you." Moving backward toward the ambulance, she
cocked a finger at her husband. "Mercy Hospital, Mulder.
You'll have to ask for directions."

One corner of his mouth turned up. "Scully, I tracked you
all the way to Antarctica. I think I can manage."

Scully opened the door to the cab and slipped inside,
popping her head out the open window. "Keep an eye on
him--better still, both eyes," she warned Grey, but her lips
twitched. "And for God's sake, Mulder, don't stick your
fingers into anything."

Grey snorted. "Got it covered, darlin'. I won't let him out of
my sight."

Rather than replying, Mulder's mouth snapped shut and he
watched as the ambulance headed out with a spray of
gravel.

As they started walking back to the campsite, Mulder
huffed under his breath. "You know, just once, you could
back me up instead of egg her on."

Grey pressed a palm to his chest with an exaggerated
expression of bewilderment. "Me?"

"Yeah, you. While you're not letting me out of your sight
I'd like to remind you who was right by my side during my
last, less-than-stellar encounter with nature."

"That's cold, Fox. Seems to me you oughta be glad your
partner has placed her trust in me to be here for you, to
back you up in her absence. I know I personally am
touched by her gesture of faith and--"

"You're touched all right. Look, do you even know what
we're looking for?"

"Hovering spacecraft and small green men?" When Mulder
merely quickened his pace, he lifted both hands in a
pacifying gesture. "Sorry. Just a little paranormal humor."

"Very little."

"In answer to your question, since we're basically out in the
middle of nowhere, we can't exactly check for power
outages. So I'm guessing we keep our eyes open for signs
of extreme heat, especially damage to the treeline and/or
changes in the soil, the rocks. If you've got a compass we
can see if there are irregularities in the magnetic field."

Mulder tripped over a tree root and pulled up short, staring
at him as if he'd grown an extra head. "How...?"

"Been doing a little research on the Net. Even found some
stuff by this guy who's supposedly an expert. Let's see,
what was his name..." Grey snapped his fingers. "M. F.
Luder."

Inwardly smirking, he plastered on the "innocent as the day
I was born" expression until Mulder continued walking.

The smell hit him long before they reached the small
clearing--smoke and ash, the aroma of a campfire on a
warm summer's night. Grey crossed to the cold fire pit,
then slowly tilted his head back, gaze travelling slowly up
the leafy boughs of the surrounding trees to their singed
and blackened tops.

"I'll be damned." His voice sounded weak to his own ears.
"How'd I miss that?"

"We were focused on the girl." Mulder bent and scooped
something from the ground. He hissed, dropping it and
clutching his hand.

Grey jogged to his side. "What's wrong? Did you cut
yourself?"

Mulder shook his head, tipping his chin toward the object.
"Not cut. Burned."

Grey trained his flashlight on a small, glossy black stone,
its surface smooth as highly polished glass. He squatted and
poked it cautiously with a finger, astonished by the heat it
radiated. "Let me see your hand."

Mulder extended his arm and uncurled his fingers, tilting
his hand toward the flashlight's illumination. Grey's breath
caught at the sight of the angry red blister already forming
on the palm. "Shit!" Muttering to himself, he dropped his
pack and quickly found the small first aid kit.

Mulder peered over Grey's shoulder as he applied antibiotic
cream and wrapped the hand in gauze. "It's just a little burn,
nothing to worry about. I'm fine."

Grey snorted. "You think I'm worried about you? It's me
that's going to catch hell when Dana finds out I broke my
promise."

"Promise?"

Grey wiggled his fingers in the air.

Mulder rolled his eyes. "Let's just finish this before the
cavalry shows up." He pulled a handkerchief from his
pocket, gingerly wrapped the stone in it, and slipped it into
his backpack.

Ten minutes ticked by as they canvassed the campsite.
Grey's back, already stiff from the long hours on the
ground, began to protest. He straightened with a groan,
propping hands on hips and stretching, face turned up to the
stars. With a bittersweet twinge he remembered huddling
under a blanket with Kate, sipping hot chocolate and
pointing out constellations.

And then one of the stars moved.

Grey blinked, certain his tired eyes were playing tricks on
him. The circular pinpoint of light had detached itself from
a group of stars and looked to be streaking earthward.
Within seconds it had doubled in size.

"Uh, Fox?"

"Hmm?"

"I..." Grey cleared a suddenly dry throat. The thing was
closing on them at an alarming pace, growing larger at an
exponential rate. "I think you oughta take a look at this."

The object was oval, studded with rows of colored lights,
and
emitted a low-pitched hum. That it was some type of craft
was now obvious--but what? The odd shape, its incredible
velocity, the way it moved not only horizontally but
vertically...it was impossible that such a craft could exist.

On this planet, anyway.

Alerted by the tone of Grey's voice, Mulder's head snapped
up. Shock melted quickly into wonder as a broad grin lit up
his face. He seized Grey's arm, gesturing skyward, triumph
blazing from his eyes.

"You wanted proof, Bubba? Try that on for size!"

The spaceship--yes, damn it, what else could you call it?--
now hovered directly above them, blotting out the stars in
favor of its own twinkling lights. Enormous, its diameter
easily the size of several football fields, the rumbling buzz
deafened him.

Grey tore his eyes away, the gooseflesh stippling his arms
having nothing to do with the chill night air. "Little brother,
I will be glad to listen to you say 'I told you so' from here to
next week. But for now I think we should get the hell out of
here."

Mulder dropped Grey's sleeve and fumbled with the straps
on his shoulders. "Are you crazy? Do you know how long
I've waited for an opportunity like this? This is it, this is
what we came for, the proof I... SHIT! The video camera
was in Scully's pack."

"Forget the damn camera, Fox. I've got a very bad feeling
and I don't think--"

Grey's warning transformed into a gasp as a shaft of
brilliant, blue-white light shot down from the ship to engulf
his brother. Fox's eyes, huge in his now pale face, fastened
onto Grey, and he flung out an arm to grab hold of his
brother. A gentle pulse, the beam growing momentarily
brighter, then subsiding, and the arm jerked to a stop. The
shock, then panic in his Fox's eyes conveyed to Grey that
he was desperately struggling against some form of
restraint, yet he remained motionless.

Grey launched himself forward, intending to tackle his
brother, stunned when he, too, remained solidly in place.
"NO!"

"Grey! Grey help me! You have to--" The light oscillated
again and Fox's plea cut off midstream, as if invisible
fingers had wrapped around his throat.

Grey's limbs, heavy, leaden, could have been stone. He
grappled with the paralysis, fingers straining toward Fox's
outstretched arm, but found he could barely blink.

"I can't! Fox, I can't move." His voice cracked with
frustration and anguish when he could not force his
traitorous body to obey. "You have to fight, break free from
the light."

Though his brother's resistance weakened with each
continuing pulse of light, his expressive eyes remained
locked onto Grey, eloquently communicating his impotence
and the plea for help he could no longer utter. The next
throb flared with greater intensity, as if whatever controlled
it had grown impatient with Fox's refusal to capitulate. His
brother's eyes flew open wider, a silent scream, then
fluttered shut. His head flopped forward and his arms went
limp.

"Fox!" Grey screamed the name, features twisting into a
snarl. "Let him go, you bastards! I'll kill you, I swear to
God. Foooox!"

One final pulse, then the light flared to white-hot radiance,
slicing through Grey's head like a knife, blinding him. He
screamed again, this time in agony. Then everything went
blessedly dark.


Mercy Hospital
Lynchburg, VA
6:42 AM


Scully massaged throbbing temples as she watched Dr.
Joseph "You Can Call Me Joe" Ramos explain once again
why a comatose little girl needed a procedure usually
reserved for the mentally ill. When she could bear Mrs.
Thompson's weeping and Mr. Thompson's anger no longer,
Scully turned from the window.

Having done all she could for Paige and her parents, she
ached to go home. The weariness bowing her shoulders and
dragging her feet had as much to do with emotional fatigue
as physical. One more child on the ever-growing list of
victims, yet they were no nearer to obtaining the proof they
needed, nor to finding the means to stop the abductions.
She sighed. Tonight they'd come so close...

A nurse stopped her as she headed down the corridor
toward the ICU doors. "Doctor Scully? There's someone
waiting for you in the lounge. He says it's urgent."

"Thank you." Scully quickened her steps, hoping for a hot
bath and Mulder in her near future. Her lips quirked. And
not necessarily in that order.

Pushing open the swinging doors and walking toward the
lounge, she spotted a lone figure, head bowed, pacing back
and forth in front of the windows. Even at a distance she
could easily identify Grey by his dark, unruly hair. Mulder
was nowhere in sight.

"If Mulder's gone for coffee there'd better be a cup with my
name on it. And not that sludge from the machine in the--"

She broke off when Grey's head flew up and he spun to
face her. One look at the devastation on his features made
her stomach churn. Shock the doctor in her noted clinically.
He's in shock.

"Grey?"

He started to speak but the words seemed to catch in his
throat. "Dana, I..."

"Grey?" She forced her voice to be soft, calm. "Where's
Mulder?"

He sucked in a breath, wrestling for control, then the words
tumbled from his lips. "We...There were lights, a.a craft.
Maybe the same one that brought Paige back, I don't know.
I saw it, Dana--did you ever think you'd hear me say that?
I'm actually admitting to seeing a spaceship." His ragged
laugh carried an edge of hysteria. "Fox wanted to stand
there and film it, for God's sake. Can you believe it?"

Peripherally, she saw hands that clenched and trembled,
heard a voice roughened by screams, but all she could
focus on were his reddened, dazed eyes. And in her heart
she knew.

"No," she whispered, tears clogging her throat. "Mulder."

Grey's face crumpled and he looked away, blinking hard. "I
lost him. They took Fox, and I couldn't stop them. He
begged me to help him, and I couldn't do a damn thing."

"The police--?"

"Arrived just in time to find me passed out cold on the
ground. They're still out there, searching the woods, even
though I told them a million times they won't find him. One
of them drove me here." He pressed the heels of his
shaking hands into his eyes. "I'm sorry, Dana. I'm so sorry."

Two unsteady steps and she'd wrapped her arms around his
waist, fingers clutching the soft fabric of his tee shirt.
Slowly, his arms came down to enfold her. They held on to
each other that way for a long time. When Scully finally
released him and stepped back, scanning his face, her eyes
were red but dry.

Uncomfortable with the scrutiny, Grey walked over to the
window, hands dangling at his side and shoulders hunched.
The body language, so similar to another's, twisted the
dagger in Scully's heart. She drew in a breath and ruthlessly
shoved the pain aside.

"There are two things I need you to believe, Grey. Without
question, without compromise. Will you do that for me?"

He nodded without turning around, but she could tell he
was listening intently.

"First, believe that I don't blame you. You are not
responsible for what happened to Mulder--it's not your
fault."

"What's the second thing?" His voice was sandpaper.

Scully walked over and stood beside him, linking their
fingers and waiting until he met her gaze.

"We will get him back."

Continued in Chapter 1

Blood Ties 12: By the Road We Came (1/21)
By Dawn


Nine weeks later

Chapter 1

Hoover Building
Friday
11:22 PM


Phone cradled between shoulder and chin, one hand jotted
notes while the other massaged the ache above her right
temple. After a moment Scully dropped the pencil and just
listened, eyes slipping shut in resignation.

"You're certain? Did you check private hospitals as well as
public?"

"Police stations, highway patrol, hospitals, even clinics. No
one matching Mulder's description--hell, not even a single
John Doe--has turned up within a fifty mile radius of the
hot spot." Frohike paused. When he resumed speaking the
apology in his tone held a crumb of pity.

"Scully--Dana. We're doing everything we can, using every
resource at our disposal. If he turns up, we'll be the first to
know it."

"When."

"What?"

"*When* he turns up you'll be first to know."

The pause was longer this time, and Scully could
practically see the hangdog expression on his face. "Yeah.
Get some sleep, Scully. We'll be in touch."

Scully replaced the receiver, straightening a stack of papers
she'd inadvertently displaced and smoothing her palm over
the file on the blotter. Sightings in the deep woods of
Michigan's Upper Peninsula--a wild, half human-half beast
creature Mulder had hoped might prove to be another "New
Jersey Devil." The open folder lay just as he'd left it--as
was the sloppy pile of receipts from their last out-of-town
case, his favorite Knicks cup with a ring of dried coffee
staining the bottom, and the fresh crop of pencils poking
out of the ceiling above her head.

Everything just as Mulder had left it, waiting for him to
return.

Scully lifted the nameplate from its perch amid the clutter,
tracing a fingertip over the letters. Her throat ached from
suppressing the tears burning behind her eyes. Soul-deep
weariness pressed down upon her, smothering her like a
heavy blanket. Weariness born of fruitless searching, of
hopes raised one moment only to be dashed the next. She'd
spent every spare moment working with Grey and the
Gunmen, tracking UFO hotspots, calling local police
departments, hospitals...morgues. Nine weeks and two false
alarms later, she had only an empty bed and the dark circles
beneath her eyes to show for her efforts.

A throat cleared, startlingly loud in the silence. Scully
bolted upright in the chair, fumbling for the nameplate
when it nearly slipped from her fingers. Skinner stood in
the doorway, hands shoved into the pockets of his charcoal
dress pants, tie still pristinely knotted around the neck of a
crisp white shirt.

"Agent Scully."

"Sir." Scully stood, self-consciously smoothing her skirt.
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear the elevator. Please, come in."

He walked to the center of the room, eyes roaming over
newspaper clippings and photos, then sat in the chair on the
other side of Mulder's desk. When Scully remained
standing, he gestured for her to reclaim her own seat. She
lowered herself onto the edge, spine stiff. Realizing her
fingers still clutched the nameplate, she set it quickly on the
blotter.

"Was there something you needed, Sir? I was actually on
my way out the door."

Skinner's raised eyebrow said he doubted the veracity of
her statement, but he let it slide. "I need to talk to you about
the future of the X-Files department, Agent Scully, and
your role in it."

All her alarm bells began clanging. "What are you saying?"

Skinner tightened his lips, a small muscle twitching along
his jawline. "I'm saying you've run out of time. The brass
are always looking to shut down the X-Files and now
Mulder's given them the perfect excuse."

"Mulder was abducted. Against his will. It's hardly his fault
that he's not here to run the department." She annunciated
each word with razor sharp precision.

Skinner leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees.
"That's not how they see it, Scully. To them this is just one
more instance of Mulder haring off without letting anyone
know where he's gone. Only this time he hasn't bothered to
come back."

Scully curled her hands into fists. "That's a lie. Grey was
there when Mulder was taken, you *heard* his testimony."

"I know. I believe him. Unfortunately, I'm not the one who
needs to be convinced."

Scully poked her tongue into her cheek and counted to five.
"I won't let them shut us down, shut Mulder down. I'm
willing to do whatever it takes to keep the Files open."

Skinner sat back, arms folded across his chest. "Are you
sure?"

"Yes." She looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Why do
I get the feeling I'm going to like this even less than what
you've already said?"

"You've got to get out in the field again, Scully. Start
investigating X-Files instead of catching up on paperwork
and loaning yourself out to Quantico."

"I can do that."

"Not without a partner."

His words hit her like a physical blow, a right cross she'd
never expected. Scully tipped her chin up and offered her
boss her best steely-eyed glare.

"I have a partner."

"You can't operate in the field without back-up, Agent.
Mulder bent a lot of rules, but even he couldn't get around
that one."

"And if I refuse?"

Skinner gritted his teeth. "They close the X-Files and you
wind up with a teaching position at Quantico. I hear the
Pathology department has an opening now that Kramer is
on maternity leave."

Scully closed her eyes. "In other words, I have no choice."
She opened them and stood, her posture rigidly correct. "I
hope I at least have some input into which agent you
choose."

Skinner also stood, eyes softening along with the tone of
his voice. "Of course. This doesn't have to be a bad thing.
You've been running yourself ragged trying to handle
things alone. Another body down here will ease the
workload, give you more time for...other things."

Scully resisted the urge to turn away. She knew how she
must look to Skinner--the rumpled suit that hung on her
small frame since she'd dropped a few pounds, the pallor
even cosmetics couldn't disguise. Prepared for pity, his next
words took her completely by surprise.

"My hands may be tied here, Scully, but the Bureau doesn't
own me once I walk out that door. If there's anything I can
do, anything at all..."

Intense brown eyes convinced her the offer was genuine.
Scully's lips curved despite the pain in her chest. "Thank
you."

Skinner dipped his head and walked to the door. He paused
in the hallway, one hand on the jamb. "This is temporary,
Agent Scully. We both know that."

"Yes, sir."

"Get some sleep."

"I will."

After Skinner's footsteps faded down the hallway, she
operated on autopilot--dumping coffee and rinsing the pot,
shutting down the computer, packing her briefcase. She'd
reached the door, finger poised to turn off the lights, when
a glint of metal caught her eye. Setting down her briefcase,
she walked slowly back to Mulder's desk. Carefully,
reverently, she picked up the nameplate from the blotter
and set it back on the edge of the desk, where it belonged.

Just as he'd left it.

Shouldering her briefcase, she flicked off the lights and
locked the door.


1616 Buckingham Drive
Bethesda
11:58 PM

He squinted under the abrupt flare of the porch light,
blinking eyes gritty from too much driving and too little
sleep. Kristen pushed open the screen door and stood aside,
smothering a yawn with the back of one hand. Her voice
was rusty with sleep.

"I thought you weren't coming until the morning."

Grey squeezed past her and set his duffel on the tile.
"Thought you'd be glad to see me." He shook his head with
mock regret. "I guess the thrill really is gone."

She chuckled throatily and slid into his arms. Her lips were
warm and firm, her body soft where it molded to his. Grey
nuzzled skin smelling faintly of lavender, smiling.

"Then again..."

Kristen stepped back, evading his grasping hands. She
scrutinized his face, brow furrowing. "It's not you showing
up early, it's what it took to get you here." She brushed the
flesh beneath his eye with a fingertip. "You're exhausted,
Grey. It's crazy to make that trip running on fumes. You
could have fallen asleep at the wheel, driven into a truck."

He snagged the silky sleeve of her robe and she allowed
him to draw her back into an embrace with minimal protest.
Grey ducked his head to rest his chin on her shoulder,
releasing a gusty sigh.

"I'm here and I'm in one piece. Can we just, please, leave it
at that?"

Kristen must have heard something in his voice. One hand
tightened around his waist while the other came up to
stroke through his hair. "Talk to me."

He smiled into her neck. "Okay. Anything in particular
you'd like me to talk about?"

"Grey."

"Could I have a glass of water first?"

She chuffed and wriggled out of his arms, hooking his
fingers with her own and leading him down the hallway to
the kitchen. Grey leaned up against the counter while she
filled a glass with ice and water. Placing it into his hand
with a flourish, she propped herself up beside him, arms
laced across her chest.

Grey drained the glass, set it down, and wiped his mouth
with the back of his hand. Very aware of Kristen's patient
but expectant silence, he sucked in a deep breath and
scrubbed his face with both hands.

"It's been more than nine weeks."

Her shoulder nestled more firmly against his. "I know."

"Nine weeks and we're not a damn bit closer to finding
him." He shook his head. "This isn't working, Kris.
Something has to change."

"I know how frustrated you are. Dana isn't doing any
better--whenever I see her at work, she's on edge. I just
don't see what you can do that you aren't already doing."

"I could be spending a hell of a lot more time looking for
him." Grey growled the words through clenched teeth.

"Sweetheart, ease up on yourself. You're already burning
the candle at both ends. No one knows better than I how
hard you've tried to find Fox. But there aren't enough hours
in the day for you to do your job and spend any more time
on this."

"I know. That's why I'm not going to be doing my job."

Kristen's head whipped around, shock written in her eyes.
"What?"

"As of 6:00 PM this evening I'm on an indefinite leave of
absence." Grey showed her a toothy smile. "Mind if I stay a
little longer than just the weekend?"

"You... Grey are you sure you've thought this through?"

"Of course I have. If I can't stay here I'll camp out on Fox
and Dana's couch."

"Damn it, Grey!"

He stepped away from the counter and turned to face her.
"Did you hear what I said, Kris? It's been *nine* weeks and
Fox is still out there, somewhere, going through God
knows what. This isn't working. Something had to change,
so damn it, *I*did."

She flinched a little at the controlled anger. "I'm not
questioning the urgency of finding your brother. I'm an FBI
agent and well aware of the statistics: the longer someone is
missing greater the odds they won't be found alive. But this
is your job we're talking about, a job you love. How long
will they be willing to wait?"

"I don't give a shit." When Kristen merely looked at him
with compassion, his shoulders slumped. "Everything will
work out. Mark will hold down the fort for me and frankly,
I'm too good at what I do for them not to take me back."

He snatched the empty water glass and took it to the sink.
Bracing his palms on the counter, he stared at a swath of
stars through the small window. "I owe him this, Kris. I
was right there, and I did *nothing*. Whatever it takes, I'm
going to get him back."

Arms slid around his waist and warmth pressed against his
spine. "Why don't you bring in your other bags? I'll make
some room in my closet and dresser."

His chin dropped to his chest and his lips curved. "I love
you."

He felt her smile against the back of his neck. "Back at ya.
Now go get those bags so we can both get some sleep."

Grey covered her hands with his own. "That sounds good,
darlin'. That sounds real good."


Continued in Chapter 2


Blood Ties 12: By the Road We Came (2/21)
By Dawn


Three weeks later

Georgetown
Thursday
7:22 PM


The front door slammed. Grey's hand jerked the cup
halfway to his lips, sloshing water onto his lap. Cursing, he
reluctantly abandoned the computer and walked into the
kitchen for a towel. Scully was already there, hosing down
a pair of black pumps over the sink. Brows knit together,
lips compressed to a thin, bloodless line, she scrubbed at
the shoes with short, harsh strokes.

Grey picked up a towel and mopped off the front of his
shirt. "Hey, darlin'. How was your day?"

Scully blew a wisp of hair from her face. "I'm partnered
with an incompetent idiot, how the hell do you think my
day was?"

"That good, huh?"

"Callahan didn't think it was necessary to hold on to the
suspect, since he was already cuffed. 'C'mon, Agent Scully,
how far could the guy get?'" She mimicked her temporary
partner's nasal twang with deadly accuracy.

Grey surveyed her mud-splattered shoes, suit, and face.
"Pretty far, I take it."

"Nearly a mile. Across a field roughly the consistency of
chocolate pudding. Turns out the guy went to college on a
track scholarship. That, of course, was years before he
started passing himself off as a faith healer and conning a
lot of desperate people." She dried her hands on his towel,
leaving the shoes in the sink.

Grey took it back and wiped a smudge of dirt from her
cheek. "So, I take it Callahan has joined the ranks of the X-
Files undead?"

Scully pursed her lips and shouldered past him, heading
into the bedroom. "Three people can hardly be considered
an army, Grey, and that's not funny."

Grey resumed his seat at the computer, raising his voice to
be heard. "It's just that I don't think Walt intended the
selection of Fox's stand-in to turn into an episode of
Survivor."

Silence.

"What the hell kind of crack is that?"

He swiveled his chair, facing her. She leaned in the
doorway, brow furrowed and teeth clenched. Now minus
suit jacket and hose, she held a bath towel in one hand.
Grey mentally chastised himself for poking an already
pissed woman licensed to carry a weapon. Sighing, he dug
the hole deeper.

"Dana, I'm only suggesting that you may not exactly be
keeping an entirely open mind." He winced at his wishy-
washy delivery. "I mean, c'mon. They can't all be that bad."

"Bad? Adams only cared about staying in one piece till
retirement, Parkinson couldn't think outside the box if his
life depended on it, Callahan refused to take any kind of
direction--I'm telling you, Grey, they were all hopeless!
None of them were X-Files material, none of them
were...were--"

"Fox."

The quietly uttered name sucked the wind from her sails.
Shock and grief twisted her mouth and glistened in her
eyes. She quickly regained control, lips relaxing, the tight
lines around her eyes and mouth easing, but Grey could see
the effort it cost.

She tipped up her chin, voice brittle. "You're putting words
in my mouth."

Grey shook his head. "I'm putting voice to what's already in
your heart." He got up, walked over, and stood in front of
her, ducking his head to look into her eyes. "Darlin', we
both know Fox Mulder is one of a kind. So how 'bout you
stop using him as the blueprint for that job description?"

"You don't understand." The protest started strong but
faded to a whisper.

"What? That sharing the office again is harder than being
alone? Or that it just about kills you every time you turn
and see the person watching your back isn't Fox?"

Her breath hitched and her face crumpled. His own chest
tight, Grey drew her over to the couch and took her into his
arms. Hands fisted in his tee shirt, tears hot against his
neck, her small body trembled with repressed sobs. Grey
swallowed the bitter taste of his own guilt and held on,
shushing her with murmured words of comfort that rang
hollow to his own ears.

Eventually she sat up, fingers swiping at the tear tracks on
her cheeks. Her eyes dodged his, resting on a wet and
muddy spot beneath the collar of his shirt, and she
grimaced.

"Sorry."

"Not a problem. 'S why God invented washing machines."
Grey dropped his head onto the back of the couch. "I miss
him, too."

Dana tensed, then relaxed into his side, head on his
shoulder. "Did Mulder ever tell you how we came to be
partners?"

Grey smiled up at the ceiling. "He said the smoking man
sent you to spy on him, to shut him down. But you turned
around and kicked the bastard's skinny excuse for an ass
instead."

A glimmer of amusement crept past the weariness in her
voice. "Sounds like Mulder." A pause, and she continued,
pensive. "I never intended to do their dirty work for them.
I'd joined the FBI hoping to distinguish myself. Agreeing to
take on the X-Files was supposed to be just a stepping
stone to bigger and better things."

"Don't know how to break this to you, but nine years is a
helluva big stepping stone."

"Tell me about it."

"What happened?"

"Fox Mulder happened." She exhaled through her nose. "I'd
heard all about him, of course. Mulder was a legend in his
own time."

"For his profiling abilities."

She nodded. "And for torpedoing his own career. There he
was, the golden boy, destined to become the Bureau's
youngest A.D., and he chucks it all to chase aliens. Half the
agents I knew pitied him; the other half made him the
punchline of a lot of cruel jokes."

"Not exactly good company for someone climbing the
ladder to success."

"Very true. But...I was intrigued. And maybe a little
arrogant. After all, I'd dazzled my professors, my fellow
students at the academy." She laughed quietly to herself. "I
figured I'd walk into that basement office and dazzle Fox
Mulder, too."

"Way I heard it, that's just what you did."

Scully snorted. "That's not exactly how I remember it. 'So
who did you tick off to get stuck with this detail, Scully?'"
She mimicked Mulder's dry delivery, then huffed. "I
walked away from that first meeting equally impressed and
annoyed. He was every bit as brilliant as I'd been told, and
twice as irritating."

Grey chuckled. "I hear you. We didn't exactly hit it off in
the beginning either." His grin turned wistful. "He kinda
grows on you, though."

"He won me over on our very first case. I'd never known
anyone so passionate about his beliefs. All that fire and
enthusiasm--he was a vortex I couldn't help but be sucked
into. When he opened up to me one night, confided in me
about his sister, I began to understand. I couldn't give
credence to his certainty that aliens had abducted
Samantha. But I felt he deserved to know the truth, and I
was confident I could help him discover it."

She sighed. "It was a journey I undertook willingly, if a bit
naively."

"One that came at a high price."

"Higher than I ever could have imagined."

"Regrets?"

Her lips curved but her eyes welled up. "I once told Mulder
I wouldn't change a day."

Grey shuddered theatrically. "Flukemen? Liver-eating
mutants? You sure about that?"

He got the raised eyebrow, then Dana sighed again.
"Anyway, you've made your point. Whomever Skinner
sends to replace Callahan...well...I'll try not to set the bar so
high."

Silence grew between them. Despite his reluctance to
extract his weary body from the soft cushions, Grey hauled
himself upright. "When was the last time you consumed
anything but coffee or diet soda?"

Dana lifted one shoulder, also getting to her feet. "I've
eaten."

"Really? See, where I come from half a bagel or a cup of
yogurt don't count."

Dana's blank expression transformed to a scowl. "That little
sneak. Is that why she keeps dropping by my office?
You've got her spying on me?"

Grey held up both hands. "This is Kristen we're talking
about. No one 'gets' her to do anything unless she damn
well wants to." He shrugged. "She's worried about you.
Now why don't you clean up and I'll fix us something to
eat?"

"Speaking of Kristen--won't she be expecting you? I don't
need a babysitter, Grey. I'm capable of feeding myself."
She flushed when Grey folded his arms and deliberately
looked her up and down.

"All evidence to the contrary, darlin'. Kris is working late
tonight, which is why I came over here to use the computer.
Besides, I figured maybe you'd like a little company. You
telling me you're gonna make me eat dinner alone?"

Scully rolled her eyes, lips twitching. "Oh, God, not the
pout. Mulder always..." She caught herself, blinking hard.

Grey moved toward the kitchen, giving her space. "You've
got twenty minutes. Not sure what I'm cooking, but I
guarantee it'll be ready by then."

True to his word, twenty minutes later Scully walked into a
kitchen filled with the aroma of eggs and freshly brewed
coffee.

"Smells good," she said, taking her usual seat at the table.

Grey set a piping hot omelet and a mug in front of her
before retrieving his own food and claiming a seat across
the table. When she dug into her meal with increasing
enthusiasm, a smug smile tugged the corners of his mouth.

Scully looked away when she caught him gloating, a
distinctly sheepish expression on her face. "I guess I was
hungrier than I realized."

"Glad to hear it."

They ate in companionable silence. When he'd finished,
Grey shoved back his chair and stretched out long legs,
fingers laced across the back of his neck. Stomach full,
fatigue descended with a vengeance, weighting his eyelids
and fuzzing his head.

"You know, you're a fine one to be delivering lectures. Just
how much sleep have you gotten lately?"

His eyes popped open and he straightened, smothering the
yawn that tried to sneak past his lips. "I've slept."

She pursed her lips. "About as much as I've eaten, I'd
imagine."

"It's not the same."

"Really?" Sarcasm dripped from the word. "All evidence to
the contrary."

His brows drew together and his tone became sharp.
"You've been deliberately skipping meals, Dana. If I'm
short on sleep, it's not for lack of trying."

Mentally berating himself for revealing too much, Grey
snatched up both their plates and carried them to the sink.
He turned the water on hot, scrubbing egg and dried cheese
from the porcelain and ignoring the scrape of her chair
across the tile.

"Grey."

She touched his arm, stilling the frenetic movements. He
released a long breath but didn't object when she reached
around him to shut off the water.

"Why didn't you tell me you were having trouble
sleeping?"

"Why didn't you tell me you'd dropped five pounds?" He
bit back the anger she didn't deserve, voice gentling.
"Anyway, falling asleep is not the problem."

"Nightmares."

"Oh yeah."

"Scale of one to ten?"

Her voice wavered a little and he abruptly wondered how
often she and Fox had played out this scene. He forced a
chuckle into his reply.

"I'd give 'em a thirteen--unless practically assaulting your
bed-partner ranks a lot lower than I think."

Scully didn't have a comeback for that one. Instead she
placed a dishtowel into his hands and nudged him aside,
filling the sink with soapy water. But he wasn't off the hook
yet.

"You're dreaming about Mulder's abduction?"

Grey really, *really* didn't want to talk about this. But how
could he ask her to bare her soul and then hold back? He
ran the towel over a slippery plate with more care than
necessary, searching for the words.

"Sometimes. Nothing earth shattering there--he's screaming
for help and I'm... You don't have to point out the irony, by
the way. Three years of listening to Fox relive Samantha's
abduction and now I get hands-on experience."

"We've been through this, Grey. There was nothing you
could have done." When he concentrated all his attention
on polishing a plate she poked him with her elbow. "Do
you hold Mulder responsible for what happened to
Samantha?"

"'Course not."

She gestured with a sudsy hand--*Well, then?*

"He was a twelve-year-old kid. I, on the other hand, am a
supposedly competent professional law enforcement--"

"Yadda."

Grey choked. "Yadda?"

"As in yeah, yeah, sure, fine, whatever." Dana dried her
hands, oblivious that she sounded exactly like Fox.

A line formed between her brows. "You said *sometimes*
you dream about Mulder being taken. What else are the
nightmares about?"

Shit. He so did not want to go there. Images flashed
through his mind--Fox strapped to a metal table in a stark
white room, laid out like some alien science project.
Huddled in a ball on the floor, rocking, all signs of that
incredible intellect wiped from his blank face and dead
eyes. Dropped into a remote field in a godforsaken stretch
of no man's land, limp, cold...lifeless.

Exhaustion short-circuited his poker face. Grey saw his
own horror creep into her eyes. He'd opened his mouth,
wanting to reassure, wanting to deny, when the phone rang.

Scully scooped it up and disappeared into the other room.
Grateful for the reprieve, Grey finished drying the dishes
and put them into the cupboard. He was debating whether
to dump the remaining coffee when Dana's voice pierced
his sleep-deprived fog. Tossing aside the dishcloth, he
bolted for the living room.

Scully was jotting something on a legal pad, the phone in a
white-knuckled grip. "How sure are you?...Damn it, don't
patronize me! We've been down this road before--more
than once--and I...I'm not sure I can handle another
disappointment, Melvin. How sure are you?"

She looked up at Grey as she listened. His heart stuttered at
the flicker of hope in her wide blue eyes.

"I'll drive out there tonight...No, there's no sense all of us
going, we don't even know for certain it's him...I won't be
alone.
Grey--?" He nodded emphatically. "--Grey will come with
me. We'll call as soon as we know anything." Whatever the
little man said next caused her eyes to fill. "I will."

Scully hung up the phone and looked at Grey.

"The boys located a John Doe in a hospital in Farmville,
Virginia. That's less than thirty miles from Holiday Lake
State Park. He fits Mulder's description."

Grey swallowed, his throat dry as sandpaper. "Condition?"

"Unconscious. The rest is sketchy."

Grey studied her face. "There's something else you haven't
told me. Something that has you believing it's him."

"The doctor wouldn't tell Frohike much, but he did mention
something odd. When the John Doe turned up he was
holding something in his right hand. They could barely pry
it from his fingers."

"What was it?"

"Some kind of unusual rock. Smooth and polished, like
black glass. The doctor couldn't figure out why Mulder
would be clutching it so tightly." She leaned in closer. "It
was warm, Grey. Almost too warm to touch."

The stuttering in his chest became a jackhammer. "Let's
go."


Continued in Chapter 3


Blood Ties 12: By the Road We Came (3/21)
By Dawn


Chapter 3


Southside Community Hospital
Farmville, VA
7:13 AM


Three phone calls, a four-hour road trip, one intern, and
five nurses later, Scully paced the small waiting room.
Arriving at the hospital in the middle of the graveyard shift,
they'd slogged their way through a string of medical
personnel, eventually landing here to wait for the doctor.
Her back ached from the uncomfortable car seat, her eyes
burned after a sleepless night, and her stomach churned
with emptiness and apprehension. Grey's quiescence as he
sat hunched over on the small couch irrationally irritated
her, like salt in an open wound.

"How can you be so calm?"

She wanted to snatch back the rebuke when he lifted his
head to reveal bloodshot eyes. "Don't pay any attention to
the man behind the curtain," he replied, then shook his head
with wry amusement. "It's all an illusion. I'm dyin' here,
Dana. It was either sit down or throw up."

Her lips twitched and the tight muscles in her shoulders
eased a bit. "Wise choice."

A doctor stopped at the nurses' station, conferred briefly,
and strode toward them. Scully met him halfway, Grey on
her heels.

"Doctor Hammond?" She offered her hand, transfixed and
a bit disconcerted by the man's uncanny resemblance to her
father.

"Doctor Scully, I presume." His clasp was warm and firm,
his gaze direct. "And Detective Mckenzie?"

Grey nodded as his hand received the same treatment.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, I came as soon as I could. Your
friend, Mr. Frohike, indicated you might know the identity
of our John Doe?"

Scully steadied her voice. "We're hoping he's my husband,
Fox Mulder. He was abducted from this area over three
months ago."

"The description does seem to match. Some hikers
stumbled across our man about forty minutes from here, in
Bear Creek State Park. We're one of the better-equipped
hospitals in this area, so they brought him here. He was
naked when they found him, and has yet to regain
consciousness. Lacking any means of identifying him, I
was forced to turn the matter over to the sheriff's
department. They'd planned to run his fingerprints, before
you called."

"Could we see him?"

Hammond smiled, his brown eyes warm. "Of course. Right
this way."

Scully's vision narrowed to the impossibly long corridor
stretching before her, the routine hospital bustle, and even
Grey's presence, fading to peripheral awareness. On some
level she registered he and Hammond making polite
conversation but the words were an unintelligible drone.
When they finally stepped into the ICU, Grey's arm slipped
around her shoulders.

Hammond led them to the farthest cubicle and drew aside
the privacy curtain.

"Oh my God."

She stared at Mulder's pale, thin face, mesmerized, until a
rush of tears blurred it and her legs buckled. Blinking
furiously, she broke free from Grey and crossed to the bed.

"Mulder."

Three months, two false alarms, and countless dead ends.
She had to touch, to know he was real. Scully smoothed her
palm down his stubbled cheek, brushed the pad of her
thumb over dry, cracked lips, stroked her fingertips through
matted, dark hair. Mulder lay unresponsive, warm skin and
beeping machinery the only indications he remained
tethered to life.

Hammond cleared his throat. "Our mystery man is your
husband."

"What is his condition?"

The doctor plucked Mulder's chart from the end of the bed.
"When we admitted him, he was suffering from
malnutrition, dehydration, and the early stages of exposure.
We've restored core body temperature, rehydrated him, and
started him on hyperalimentation through a central line. He
should be graduating to the step down unit later today. I'd
have moved him earlier, but had hoped he'd awaken first."

"Why hasn't he?" Grey's quiet question beat Scully to the
punch. He'd circled to the opposite side of the bed and
leaned on the rail, eyes locked onto his brother's face.

Hammond flipped the chart shut. "I wish I had an answer
for you. The toxicology screen was negative, there's no
external indication of head trauma, and his CT scan was
clean. I can find no physical cause for this persistent state
of unconsciousness. It's almost as if..."

"As if?" Scully prompted when Hammond showed no sign
of finishing the cryptic statement.

Hammond sighed. "As if he doesn't want to wake up.
Doctor Scully, you and I both know the mind wields great
power over healing. Perhaps this is a subconscious method
of self-protection."

Scully bit the inside of her cheek, ruthlessly tamping down
the images that rose to mind, refusing to contemplate the
horrors Mulder might have endured.

"Doctor Hammond, Mr. Frohike may have mentioned that
my husband and I are agents with the Federal Bureau of
Investigation. As part of the inquiry into his abduction, I'll
need you to run some additional tests."

"Such as?"

"Blood samples to be sent to our labs in DC, an MRI, x-
rays--"

Hammond's raised a hand. "X-rays?"

"In cases similar to Agent Mulder's, victims have been
returned with metal chips implanted in their bodies."

"Chips?" His eyebrows soared. "As in computer chips?"

"Something like that. At any rate, it's imperative that we
determine whether Agent Mulder is carrying any such
devices."

Hammond inclined his head. "Let's get him settled in the
step-down unit. We'll proceed from there."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Hammond turned toward the door. "I'm
late for rounds, so--"

"Of course. Please don't let us keep you." Scully sat on the
edge of the bed, taking Mulder's hand. Following her lead,
Grey hooked a chair with is foot and sat, folding his arms
comfortably across his chest.

The slight curve to Hammond's mouth said he'd received
the message, loud and clear. "Cindy is Agent Mulder's
nurse." Hammond indicated a young woman with close-
cropped, strawberry-blonde hair working behind the desk.
"If you have any questions or concerns, I'm sure she'll be
happy to help you."

Once Hammond left, Grey reached out a tentative hand and
covered his brother's. His voice rasped with emotion. "I
haven't seen him this thin since--"

"Don't, Grey. We have him back; he's safe. We'll deal with
the rest."

She smoothed back long, tangled strands of hair that
tumbled across Mulder's brow and down his neck, leaning
closer to murmur in his ear. "Do you hear me, Mulder?
You're safe now. Wherever you've gone, it's time to come
back." She pressed a kiss to his forehead, his mouth, then
laid her head carefully on his chest.


10:43 AM

"Grey? You still there, man?"

Grey's head snapped up and his eyes flew open. He
scrambled for the receiver, catching it before it hit the
linoleum, and tucked it against his ear.

"I'm awa--here, I'm here." He swigged a mouthful of tepid
coffee, grimacing. "What was that you were saying?"

Langly snorted. "Dude, you are in serious need of pillow
time. I asked if you were sure we shouldn't come down
there. We could, you know, check out the hospital more
thoroughly, make sure everything's on the up and up."

What an image. Grey choked, nearly inhaling coffee. "Ahh,
no, no, that's not necessary. We'd, um, rather you guys stay
put, you know, in case we need you to, uh, track
down...stuff."

"Can do. Just keep us posted on the G-man."

"We will."

Grey hung up the phone with a jaw-cracking yawn. Langly
was right about one thing--he desperately needed sleep.
Dozing off while talking to the Gunmen on a payphone
clearly proved he'd lost his edge.

He navigated a maze of hallways until he located Dana just
outside an area labeled "Diagnostic Imaging." Propped
against the wall, eyes closed, she looked as exhausted as he
felt.

"Hey."

Her eyes popped open as he leaned beside her. "Did you
reach the boys?"

"Yup. They'd already done a full background check on Dr.
Hammond. He's squeaky clean, in case you were
wondering."

"That's good to know, but I expected it. I don't think
Spender or his associates had anything to do with what's
happened to Mulder."

"For once." Grey ground the heels of his hands into gritty
eyes. "All three of them were ready to hop on the next
plane out. I, uh, discouraged that plan."

Scully huffed, half amusement, half dismay. "And for that
I'm eternally grateful. We've got enough on our hands
without throwing those three into the mix."

"You spoke to Walt?"

"Briefly. Kim hunted him down between meetings. He
promised he'd alert the lab to expect Mulder's blood
samples and run interference with the local sheriff's office.
We're to keep him posted on...Mulder's condition." She
uttered the last two words around a yawn. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I'm not exactly firing on all cylinders myself."
Grey's head smacked the wall with a soft thud. "We're both
running on fumes, Dana. We can't function much longer
without sleep."

Her body stiffened. "I'm not leaving him alone."

"I'm not suggesting we should. The boys booked us a room
in a nearby motel. Once Fox is done here and settled in his
new digs, we can spell each other. One of us will always be
with him."

Her grudging nod was a pleasant surprise--he'd expected an
argument. When she did speak, after several minutes of
silence, her voice vibrated with tension.

"I'm afraid of what they're going to find."

Grey had to search hard for a comforting response.
"Hammond said the CT scan was clean."

"That was just his head. They're doing a full body MRI
now, a much more exhaustive test. And frankly, Grey,
these people don't know what the hell to look for, not like
we do."

Grey nudged her shoulder with his. " We have him back;
he's safe. We'll deal with the rest."

She gave him a glare usually reserved for his brother, but
leaned into his support. "I just hope--"

Shouts and scuffling feet, an eruption of barked orders and
frantic activity came from across the hall. One voice
pierced the clamor, terrified and desolate.

"NO! No more! No more!"

"Mulder!" Scully launched herself across the corridor,
nearly colliding with Dr. Hammond when he appeared in
the doorway.

"Doctor Scully, we need you in here. NOW."

Grey darted after them as they ran into the room.
Controlled chaos assaulted his senses. A technician
furiously punched buttons, shutting down the equipment,
while two nurses struggled to restrain his thrashing brother,
who had already managed to tear out his I.V.

Out of his head with fear, Fox twisted and bucked, arms
flailing and feet kicking as he screamed in protest. "Get
your fucking hands off me, you sadistic little bastards! I
won't let you put me back in there. No more! No more!"

"We were in the middle of the test when he woke up."
Hammond bellowed over the din. "We've tried to talk to
him, but he's not responding."

Scully shouldered her way past a nurse draped across
Mulder's body, holding him down. She caught his head
between her palms, throat constricting at his flushed,
sweaty face and huge, panic-stricken eyes.

"Mulder, it's Scully. Stop struggling, you need to calm
down."

To her astonishment, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut and
turned his head away. His hoarse voice shook with emotion
and tears trickled down the sides of his face. "Don't do this,
I know it's not real. Let me die this time. Please. Just let me
die."

White-lipped with shock, Scully could barely choke out
words of comfort. "Mulder, it's all right. You're safe; no
one's going to hurt you. They just need to--"

"NO!" Mulder wrenched free of her grasp, fighting with
renewed fury. "This is not real; *you're* not real! Let me
go!"

From the corner of her eye, Scully saw Hammond bare
Mulder's hip for the nurse, hanging on while she injected
him. Mulder's struggles slowly weakened, his body stilling
and eyelids fluttering. Fingers fumbled, then latched onto
Scully's sleeve and she looked into weary, pain-filled eyes.

"Please..." His eyes slid shut and his body sagged, fingers
falling limply from her arm.

No one moved. Finally, Hammond turned and conferred in
hushed tones with the nurse holding the syringe. The other,
still draped over Mulder's inert form, straightened, patting
Scully's arm before carefully arranging Mulder into a more
comfortable position and gathering materials to start a new
I.V.

"What the hell was that?" Grey had backed into the corner,
arms wrapped around his body and face ashen.

Scully smoothed her fingertips over Mulder's damp cheek,
then reluctantly tore her attention from him. She sucked in
a deep breath. "I'm not sure, but I think it was some kind of
flashback."

"I've never seen him...Dana, he didn't know who you
were."

She bit her lip. Mulder's heartbreaking plea still rang in her
ears. "He recognized me, Grey. He just didn't believe."

"We're going to go ahead with the scan, Dr. Scully, as well
as the x-rays." Hammond handed Mulder's chart to the
nurse and joined them. "Given his reaction, I think it's best
we complete the tests while he's asleep."

"What was your first clue?" Grey muttered it under his
breath.

Hammond, sensing Grey's distress, just smiled. "The
Ativan should keep him under for at least an hour, so we'll
avoid traumatizing him any further."

"Thank you."

Scully watched Mulder's body slide back into the tube, the
machine whirring to life. The adrenaline rush dissipated,
leaving her exhausted and overwhelmed by the road ahead.

*What did they do to you, Mulder? And how in God's name
are we going to make it right?*


Continued in Chapter 4


Blood Ties 12: By the Road We Came (4/21)
By Dawn


Chapter 4


Southside Community Hospital
Friday
12:32 PM


*She awakens to kisses, soft lips caressing eyelids, cheeks--
even the sensitive skin behind her right ear. Mind still
cloudy and sluggish with sleep, her body responds
instinctively, melting into his touch. His face hovers just
above hers, a pale moon in the darkness.

"Mmm, Mulder. What time is it?" She stretches her arms
above her head, deliberately provocative, enjoying the way
his eyes darken and his hand creeps up the exposed skin of
her thigh.

"Time to put a beach blanket and all that moonlight to
good use."

His tongue trails heat down her neck and between her
breasts, then he twines his fingers with hers and stands.
He's wearing boxers, she realizes, and has a blanket tucked
beneath one arm.

"Mulder?"

Questioning is second nature, but she lets him tug her
upright. Enfolded in his arms, the feel of his desire kindles
her own. She opens to him, losing herself in the rough glide
of tongues, the sweet press of lips.

"I want to make love to you under the stars, to the sound of
the waves." He murmurs the words against her mouth; she
feels his smile.

Her body agrees, but she musters a token protest. "Rosa."

"Is sound asleep." He chuffs into her ear, sending tingles
down her spine. "Anyway, I think she'd approve." He steps
away until only their hands remain linked. His thumb
strokes the back of her hand; the love shining in his eyes
steals her breath. "Please, Scully."

She's mesmerized by the delicate touch, imagining she can
feel each whorl on the pad of his thumb.
Stroking.stroking.*

Scully's eyes flew open. She'd pulled her chair close to
Mulder's bed and laid her head on the mattress, intending to
rest only a moment. Her stiff back and dry mouth suggested
it had been significantly longer.

She straightened with a groan, elusive dream fragments still
flickering through her thoughts. Remembering that
beautiful night on the beach, her heart ached with loss. The
waves' soothing whispers, the brilliance of a million stars,
the glide of Mulder's skin--

Mulder's fingers twitched, his thumb tickling the back of
her hand. Scully lunged to her feet, nearly topping the
chair. She tightened her grip on the restless digits, reaching
over and cupping his cheek.

"Mulder?"

Her spirits soared when he leaned into the touch. Lashes
fluttering, his tongue poked out, moistening dry lips.

"Come on, love. Wake up."

Eyelids cracked, he squinted against the harsh fluorescent
lighting. For a moment his gaze held no recognition, then
the corners of his mouth curved.

"He." He swallowed, then tried again. "Hey, Scully."

The ragged, sandpapery rasp, though far from his mellow
baritone, sang in her ears. Scully blinked furiously, smile
quivering.

"Hey."

"Thirsty."

She reached for the water pitcher, pouring a small amount
into the plastic cup. "Go easy, Mulder. Just a couple
swallows, for now."

He let her hold the cup, too weak to protest. A line formed
between his brows. "Hospital?"

She nodded, words blocked by the lump in her throat.

The crease deepened. "Sorry."

Scully smoothed a lock of hair back from his face with a
watery little chuckle. "Sorry? For what?"

"Must've done something.really stupid."

"You don't remember?"

He shook his head, wincing when the motion caused pain.

Scully ignored the sudden, jittery feeling in her gut.
"Mulder, what's the last thing you do remember?"

He chewed on his lip for a moment. "We were waiting for
something.Grey was there.Trees.Forest?" He groaned.
"Oh, God. Not again." When Scully didn't speak, he
became very still. "That wasn't the right answer, was it?"

She looked away, searching for the right words. "A lot has
happened. I'm not sure now is the best time--"

His heartbeat picked up and his fingers clamped painfully
over hers. "Why not? Scully, what's going on? I deserve to
know." He pushed himself up on one elbow but could get
no further.

Scully helped him lay back down, rubbing soothing circles
on his chest. "Calm down, Mulder, of course you do; I'll
explain everything. Just--"

"Well, well. Good to see you awake, Agent Mulder."
Hammond strode into the room, Mulder's chart in his
hands. "How are you feeling?"

"Like the morning after the night before." Mulder locked
his gaze with Scully's for a long moment before rolling his
head toward the doctor.

Hammond chuckled. "Considering your condition when
you arrived, I guess that'd be just about right."

"Mulder, this is Dr. Hammond. He's been supervising your
care." Scully jumped in, recognizing Mulder entering
"interrogator" mode. "Dr. Hammond, Mulder apparently
has some.gaps in his memory."

"Gaps big enough to drive a bus through. Which Scully was
about to fill." Mulder's voice faded in and out, succumbing
to the strain. "What's wrong with me? Why am I here? And
while you're at it, *where* is here?"

"How about we stop a minute to take inventory? Then I'm
sure your wife and I can answer your questions."

Mulder muttered something under his breath but submitted
to Hammond's examination. When the doctor had checked
his pulse, blood pressure, and pupil response, he tucked the
chart under his arm and smiled.

"Coming along. You've improved greatly over the last 24
hours."

Mulder gritted his teeth. "Glad to hear it. Now, who's going
to catch me up on what I've missed?"

Scully turned to the physician. "Dr. Hammond, if you're
finished for now, I'd like some time alone with my
husband."

Hammond inclined his head. "Very well. I'll be back when
we have the test results. Otherwise, you can page me if you
need me."

"Thank you." When the door snicked shut, she propped her
arms on the mattress. "Mulder, do you remember Paige
Thompson?"

Understanding lit his eyes. "The little girl who was
abducted! *That's* why we were in the woods." His brow
furrowed. "We waited a long time, almost gave up. But
then.we found her, didn't we?"

"Yes, we did. Do you remember what happened after that?"

He scrutinized her face. "She was comatose, like the other
kids. You.you rode to the hospital with her."

"That's right."

"Grey and I stayed behind. We wanted to go over the scene
before the local boys showed up."

Scully waited. When he didn't continue, she prodded
gently. "And then?"

He kneaded his forehead with shaky fingers. "We walked
back to the campsite. It smelled like ash; the tops of the
trees had burned. I was checking the magnetic field and
Grey--"

He jerked, hand shooting out and grasping the rail.

"Mulder?"

"Oh my God." He panted, short, sharp gulps for air, his
eyes squeezed shut.

Scully smoothed back his hair. "Talk to me, Mulder."

"There was a spaceship.bright light. I couldn't move.
Grey--" His eyes snapped open and darted wildly around
the room. "Scully, where's Grey?"

"Shh, it's okay, Mulder. Grey is fine; he's at the motel
getting some sleep."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Deep breaths, Mulder. Slow it down."

Mulder's nurse bustled into the room, mouth pursed.
"What's going on in here, Dr. Scully? Your husband's
heartrate just went through the roof."

"He got a little upset, Camilla, but everything's fine now--
right, Mulder?"

Pale as the sheets, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow,
Mulder flashed his teeth. "Just peachy."

Camilla sniffed. "You need rest, Mr. Mulder. If having a
visitor is too disturbing."

"It's okay, really. I'm chillin'." The words came out in a
barely audible croak.

Camilla narrowed her eyes but said nothing. When she'd
marched out, spine stiff, Mulder raised both eyebrows.
"*Camilla*?"

Though relieved by the spark of his customary humor,
Scully pressed ahead. Mulder was fading, the emotionally
charged conversation too great a drain in his fragile
condition.

"Mulder, what do you remember after the bright light?"

He was silent for a long time before finally shaking his
head. "Nothing. It's a big blank, Scully." He chewed the
inside of his lip. "I assume I was. Was I abducted?" When
she nodded, he sucked in a deep breath. "No wonder you
look like hell. How long was I missing--forty-eight hours?
Did you and Grey find me?"

"Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

She desperately wished she could lie, could spare him from
what lay ahead. Six years and she could still vividly
remember the terrifying weight of the black hole in her
memory.

"Scully?"

"What happened to you was different from what happened
to the children, Mulder. There's no evidence you were
subjected to brain surgery, and your brain activity has been
what we'd expect, given your condition."

He captured the hand stroking his arm, stilling it. "There it
is again, that word. Why don't you stop beating around the
bush and tell me? Just what is my *condition*?"

Before she could speak an odd expression crossed his face.
He released her arm, brought the hand up and stared at his
palm. "Wait a minute, wait a minute." He swallowed, and
an edge crept into his voice. "I burned my hand on some
kind of strange rock. *This* hand." He swallowed again.
"Scully, how long have I been gone?"

She closed her eyes. "Just over three months."

When his silence became unbearable she cleared her throat.
"A couple of hikers found you in Bear Creek State Park.
That's about thirty miles from Holiday Lake. We don't
think you'd been there more than a couple days--the nights
are too cold for you to have lasted much longer. I'm still
waiting for some test results, but so far, other than being
dehydrated and malnourished--"

"*Three months*?"

She nodded, tears filling her eyes and stinging her throat.

"I. That can't be. There must be some mistake."

Irrationally, her temper flared. "There's no mistake,
Mulder. At first we were certain you'd be returned in two
days, just like the children. We assumed the same craft that
returned Paige had taken you. After a week, we were forced
to accept that those rules didn't apply. With the Gunmen's
help we started reviewing satellite transmissions,
monitoring UFO hotspots and checking with the local
police, hospitals." She ran out of steam, shoulders
slumping. "We never gave up. Not for a minute."

His fingers brushed her jaw, a feather-light touch. Scully
caught his trembling hand and pressed it to her cheek.

"Sorry." His words slurred in exhaustion. "I believe you. I
just don't want to."

"It's a lot to take in."

"You said you're waiting for test results."

She kissed his palm and laid his hand back on the mattress.
"A full body MRI and x-rays."

"Making sure I didn't come back with
any.modifications?"

"Something like that. You should sleep, Mulder. We can
discuss this some more when you've rested."

"I don't need sleep; I need answers." His heavy eyelids and
thready voice contradicted him.

"Sleep now, answers later. Don't make me call Camilla."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

He settled, muttered protest dying midstream as his eyes
drifted shut. When his breathing slowed and deepened,
Scully sank into her chair. She watched him sleep for a
while, debating whether to duck out on a coffee run as her
own level of fatigue reached critical mass. She'd just
decided to risk a quick trip to the nurses' lounge when a
soft knock drew her attention to the doorway. Dr.
Hammond beckoned and withdrew.

"Camilla mentioned that your husband became quite
agitated earlier," he said when Scully had joined him in the
hallway.

"Discovering you've been missing for three months is a bit
of a shock."

"I can only imagine. It looks like he's doing better."

"Mulder is amazingly resilient.

"I've received his x-rays." Hammond tapped the envelope
in his hand. "We're still waiting on the MRI."

Scully studied his face. "May I see them?"

Hammond nodded and led her around the corner to an
exam room. He snapped on the lightbox, but paused with a
film in his hand.

"Dr. Scully, I have to ask you a sensitive question. Was
your husband abused as a child?"

Scully folded her arms, face blank. "Why would you ask
that?"

Hammond's lips tightened to a thin line. "Because right
now I'm at a loss to explain this." He snapped two films in
place and stepped back.

Scully pressed her fingers against her mouth, stifling a
gasp. One film showed Mulder's ribs, the other his upper
arm. Multiple white lines, indicating healed fractures,
covered them both.

Hammond handed her the envelope. "They're all like this,
Dr. Scully. Now, if these aren't childhood injuries--and
frankly, I don't believe a child could sustain this much
trauma without permanent damage--then you tell me. What
the hell is going on?"

Continued in Chapter 5

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Blood Ties 12: By the Road We Came (5/21)
By Dawn


Southside Community Hospital
Friday
4:08 PM


He nearly walked right past her.

After four hours of sleep, a turkey sandwich, and a can of
caffeine-laden soda, Grey had returned to the hospital ready
to relieve Dana. Holding a white paper bag containing
another sandwich and a coffee, he'd braced himself for an
argument. Dana was fiercely protective of Fox on a good
day. After three months agonizing whether his brother was
dead or alive, prying her from his side would take some
smooth talking--or several sticks of dynamite.

Preoccupied with his thoughts, he'd reached Fox's hospital
room and placed his hand on the door before noticing the
figure slumped against the wall just outside.

"Dana?"

She lifted her head, revealing bloodshot eyes and blotchy
cheeks. A boulder settled on Grey's chest.

"Did something happen? Is Fox...?"

"Mulder's fine. He's sleeping."

Grey sucked in his cheeks and set the bag down by his feet.
"Okay. Then you mind telling me why he's in there and
you're out here?"

"We got the test results, Grey. The x-rays, the MRI..."

"And?" When she didn't answer, he grasped her shoulders.
"Dana, what is it?"

"I'm sorry. I just...I'm still coming to terms with this
myself." She drew in a deep breath and tucked a strand of
hair behind her ear. "The good news is that Mulder's test
results show no implants--no foreign bodies of any kind."

"But they do show something, or you wouldn't be this
upset."

"They indicate past trauma, Grey--massive damage.
Countless fractures, ruptured organs... I've never seen
anything like it. Considering the number and severity of
injuries, Mulder should be dead ten times over."

"I don't understand. *Past* trauma?"

"Completely healed. If I judged strictly by the x-rays, the
MRI, I'd believe them to be *years* old." She shook her
head. "I know Mulder's medical records like the back of my
hand, every bullet wound and scar. I'm telling you, Grey,
none of these injuries existed three months ago."

Grey licked his lips. "But that's...that's impossible."

Scully barked a harsh little chuckle. "Impossible? We're
talking about a race of beings that can extract brain tissue
without opening the skull."

Sweat broke out on the back of his neck, beading his upper
lip. Grey braced one hand against the wall, pulling air past
the weight in his chest. "You think they tortured him."

Scully closed her eyes. "Only Mulder can tell us what
really happened."

"God, Dana. No wonder he freaked during that test. He
must
have--"

"He doesn't remember, Grey."

"What?"

Scully pinched the bridge of her nose. "Mulder woke up
while you were at the motel. He was his normal, glib,
sarcastic self--with one exception. The past three months
are a blank."

Grey blinked. "He can't remember any of it?"

She shook her head. "Finding Paige, seeing the spaceship--
it's all like yesterday for him. Learning the truth gave him
quite a shock."

"You *told* him?"

"This is Mulder we're talking about, Grey. The man is a
skilled interrogator, not to mention just plain bullheaded.
He sensed something was wrong, and I couldn't lie to him."

Grey winced. "How did he take it?"

Scully's lips curved, but her eyes were sad. "The same way
he's coped with all the other shit life has thrown his way--a
little humor and a lot of sublimation." She stared at
Mulder's door as if she could see through it to the man
inside. "It's not the gap in his memory that worries me."

"It's him filling in the gap." Grey's voice was soft, pained.
"Maybe he'd be better off if those missing pieces stayed
missing."

"After seeing those x-rays, I almost agree with you. But it's
a moot point. We both know how Mulder's mind works--
eidetic memory, remember? Sooner or later those memories
are going to surface, and when they do..."

"We'll be there for him." Grey brushed his hand down her
arm. "He's a survivor, Dana. God knows we've both seen
him shrug off experiences that would bring a lesser man to
his knees."

"I'd like to believe that, but, Grey, the test results... I look at
those films, and I can't begin to understand how Mulder is
still breathing, let alone reasonably whole and cognizant.
And Hammond..." She waved a hand, puffing out a short
breath. "Hammond just keeps trying to make sense of a
situation for which he has no frame of reference."

Grey ran a hand down his face. "Look, I hate to bring up a
sore subject, but what about Fox's...abilities?"

"Abilities?"

"The things Spender insinuated back when Fox so sick with
that alien virus, his bragging about genetic manipulation.
We've seen evidence that suggests Fox has an unusual
ability to heal."

Scully was shaking her head before he'd finished speaking.
"You're not getting it, Grey. They broke nearly every bone
in his body. There are areas of scar tissue on all of his
major organs." Her voice cracked. "No amount of genetic
tweaking could explain this."

"C'mere." Grey folded her into a hug. He rubbed one hand
between her shoulder blades, feeling fine tremors.

He waited until she'd relaxed, then released her. He placed
first the food, then the room key into her hands.

"Eat. Sleep." He ticked the commands off on his fingers.
"You look ready to fall over."

She tried slipping the key back into his jacket pocket.
"Thanks, but I think I'll stretch out on the couch in the
lounge, just in case--"

"Uh-uh. We had a deal--remember? It's *my* shift now,
and I don't want to see you back here for at least six hours.
I can hold down the fort just fine."

"Grey, I'm capable of resting here. I think it's best I stay.
What if Mulder has another panic attack? I'm a doctor, I--"

Grey snorted. "No offense, darlin', but you and your
medical degree weren't much help during that episode,
were you?"

"That's a shitty thing to say."

"It is. Even if it's true." Grey sighed. "Look, Dana, Fox has
plenty of doctors and nurses taking care of him. If he does
freak out again, he won't need another medical
professional. He'll need family." He shrugged. "For that,
I'm qualified."

She huffed. "I suppose you have a point." Her eyes
narrowed. "*Six* hours? Correct me if I'm wrong, but
you've only been gone four."

Grey grinned, backing toward the door. "Inflation."

He slipped inside. With the blinds shut against the fading
daylight, shadows cloaked the room. Fox lay on his side,
one long-fingered hand curled beneath his chin, the
rhythmic whisper of his breath loud in the silence. When
his eyes adjusted to the gloom, Grey sat in the empty chair.

It was the first quiet moment he'd experienced since last
evening when the rollercoaster ride had begun. Grey
slumped back, shivering as reaction set in, his eyes locked
on Fox's gaunt face. Three months. He recognized, now,
how his hope had dwindled. How close he'd come to
believing his brother lost forever. The realization shamed
him, tainting the joy he'd felt at Fox's return.

"I'm sorry, Fox."

His brother's even breathing faltered. "Grey?"

Grey winced at the froggy croak, leaning forward to pat his
brother's arm. "Right here. Didn't mean to wake you."

Fox rolled onto his back. He ran his tongue over his lips,
eyes blinking at the ceiling. "Timizit?"

"About four-thirty in the afternoon. Why don't you go back
to sleep?"

Fox turned his head, wrinkling his nose. "Mouth tastes like
an old sock. Water?"

Grey reached for the pitcher, hesitating when he saw the
length of plastic I.V. tubing protruding from just below
Mulder's collarbone. "Uh...hang on a minute."

He got up and strode out of the room, scanning the hallway
for a nurse. A sweet young thing set down her clipboard
and left the nurses' station when he beckoned.

"My brother's asking for water. Is that all right?"

She smiled reassuringly. "Mr. Mulder? Yes, just make sure
he drinks it slowly, his stomach may be a little on edge. Dr.
Hammond is coming back to check on him in a bit, and if
everything looks okay we'll start him on a liquid diet."

"Thanks."

He ducked back inside. "Nurse says it's okay." He poured
water into a cup and helped Fox sip from the straw,
dismayed by the weakness in his brother's unsteady hands.

"'S enough." Fox pushed the cup aside after several
swallows, settling into the pillow with a soft grunt. "This
sucks. I can barely move. Everything feels like it weighs
about a thousand pounds. Not to mention I hate hospitals."

"Beats the alternative."

"So I hear." Fox chewed on his lower lip. "I don't exactly
remember."

"Dana told me. She's at the hotel getting some sleep, by the
way. She'll be back later."

"Good. She looked beat." Fox shifted, searching for a more
comfortable position. "I guess the last three months have
been pretty hard..." He trailed off into a bitter little chuckle.
"Three months. I'm saying it and I still can't believe it."

"Yeah, well, it hasn't been easy for us to accept either."
Grey looked out the window. "Gotta admit, I was beginning
to think you were never coming back."

"Me? Nah. I'm like a bad penny, I always turn up."

"More like a Timex watch."

"Very funny. So...three months. That must mean--" He
moaned, a low, distressed sound.

Grey jerked his attention from the window. "What is it?
What's wrong?"

"I missed the World Series again, didn't I?"

"You little shit! You scared the hell out of me. I thought
you were having some kind of attack, or in pain, or...or
something."

"I am in pain, damn it! This is the second time in five years
I've missed the Series."

Grey snickered, shocked when his vision blurred. He
blinked furiously, swiping at his eyes with the back of one
hand.

"Hey." Fox touched his wrist. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking.
I know this must have been hell for you and Scully."

"It's not that." Grey shook his head, a bemused smile on his
lips. "I mean, of course it was rough. We spent every spare
moment trying to find you, and--" He stopped himself. "It's
just really good to have you back."

"Give it some time, the novelty will wear off." Fox's voice
turned pensive. "I wish I could say it's good to be back. But
for me, it's as if I never left." His eyes bore into Grey's with
relentless intensity. "I have to fill in the blank, Grey. I have
to know what happened to me."

*They broke nearly every bone in his body.*

"Give it some time, Fox. You've been back all of--what?
Forty-eight hours?"

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one with a black hole
in your memory." Fox punctuated the complaint with a
yawn, eyelids drooping.

"Hey, I've been there. Remember when your buddy
Cancerman thought he could treat my brain like a magic
slate and just erase the stuff he didn't want me taking
home? It might not have been three months' worth, but it
was no picnic."

"Point taken. But can't you see how frustrating this is? For
years I've searched for conclusive proof of extraterrestrial
life, battled against a conspiracy to conceal it." Fox yawned
again. "I've interviewed victims of alien abduction, listened
to hundreds of accounts. Now here I am, one of my own x-
files with first hand experience, and I can't remember a
damn thing."

Despite the burden of knowledge he carried, one corner of
Grey's mouth turned up. "I believe that's called irony, little
brother. Now how about you catch up on some more
sleep?"

Fox's eyes, which had been drifting closed, snapped open
and his body stiffened. "Are you leaving?"

Puzzled by the wary tone and obvious tension, Grey shook
his head. "Nope. I'm on duty until Dana gets back. 'Fraid
you're stuck with at least one of us for the time being." He
leaned back in the chair and propped his feet on the
mattress, nudging his brother's leg.

Fox rolled his eyes. "That's my Scully--never trust the
medical staff." But his body relaxed, his eyelids
immediately sliding shut. Within seconds he was out for the
count.

Grey watched him sleep, uneasiness niggling at the back of
his mind. For just an instant, when he'd thought Grey might
be leaving, Fox had looked...afraid.

Grey didn't want to think about what that might mean.


Continued in Chapter 6


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Blood Ties 12: By the Road We Came (6/21)
By Dawn


Southside Community Hospital
Sunday
5:37 PM

"I want it on the record, Mr. Mulder, that I'd feel much
better if you remained here one more night. You're still
extremely weak, and--"

"And I'm deeply touched by your concern, Doctor. Really.
But I'll have my personal physician with me at all times,
and she's acquainted with my condition. Intimately."

Scully pursed her lips, smirking inwardly at Mulder's
guileless expression, while Grey simply turned his back,
shoulders hunched.

Hammond eyeballed Mulder for a long moment before
scribbling his signature onto the discharge papers with a
shake of his head. He tucked the chart under his arm and
turned his attention to Scully.

"Perhaps we can have a word outside while Detective
McKenzie helps your husband dress."

Mulder clenched his jaw, shoving off the blankets and
swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "I've never
considered dressing a group effort. Now *undressing*,
that's another matter."

"Mulder, wait. I don't think--"

He'd pushed off the mattress before she finished speaking,
stubborn triumph melting to disbelief when his stick-thin
legs simply folded. Scully lunged, grabbing for his arm, but
Grey got there first. He caught his brother around the waist
and dragged him upright, easing him back onto the bed.

"Easy, Fox. Those legs are a little rusty."

Hammond cleared his throat. "As I was saying..."

Scully took one look at Mulder's flushed face and rigid
spine before grasping Hammond's elbow and steering him
into the hallway. "You said you had something to discuss
with me, Doctor?"

Hammond waited until they'd moved away from the open
door before speaking. "Dr. Scully, I just want to stress how
important it is that your husband continues to receive
treatment. He's made incredible progress over the last 72
hours, but I'm afraid complete recovery will take plenty of
time and patience--on both your parts."

"Of course." Scully tipped up her chin. "I'll make an
appointment first thing tomorrow morning. I've already had
his records from the last few days sent to his physician."

"Good." Hammond hesitated, his soft drawl becoming
more pronounced as his voice gentled. "It will be tempting
to focus on his physical health. But you and I both know
his problems run much deeper than the perplexing
reduction in his lymphocyte population or a dropped twenty
pounds.

"Though I can't begin to explain the blood test results, the
x-rays, the MRI, I also can't deny what they reveal--trauma
of an incomprehensible nature. *Something* terrible
happened to your husband, Dr. Scully. Something his
subconscious is doing its damnedest to bury. He'll need
help--professional help--to cope with his experience."

Irritation welled up inside her, tightening her chest and
pounding behind her eyes. "I don't need a lecture on my
responsibilities, Dr. Hammond. I'm a physician and a
professional law enforcement officer, and I know my
husband better than anyone."

"I know. I never meant to suggest otherwise."

Shamed by his patient response, Scully's temper cooled.
"I'm sorry. I do appreciate your concern, believe me. I'm
aware that my husband has a long road to recovery--longer
than even you can imagine. I'll do everything possible to
ensure he gets whatever help he needs."

Hammond scrutinized her face. "You know where he's been
the last three months, don't you? Or at the very least, who
took him. The high white cell count, the presence of
glucocorticoids--even the anomaly of those recently-healed
injuries. You displayed shock, yes, but never disbelief.
Almost as if..." His eyes narrowed. "As if you'd seen it, or
something like it, before."

"Dr. Hammond, I'm really not at liberty to discuss--"

Grey stepped into the hallway and cocked a thumb over his
shoulder. "There's one seriously pissy FBI agent in there
who's anxious to leave this fine establishment. Where the
hell is the nurse with the wheelchair?"

For a moment Scully though Hammond would persist, but
he relaxed with a mild chuckle. "Wouldn't want it said I
obstructed justice. I'll track down Camilla."

Scully followed Grey back into the room, finding Mulder
perched on the bed, fiddling with an emesis basin. Her
heart lurched and she had to blink back the prickle of tears.
At the last moment, as she and Grey prepared to leave her
apartment, she'd snatched a few items of Mulder's clothing.
A talisman against failure and a pledge of faith that this
time she'd bring him home. The faded blue jeans and soft,
gray sweatshirt leant him a heartbreaking air of normality
despite his sunken cheeks and shadowed eyes.

He scowled as he searched the doorway behind her. "Please
tell me Nurse Godzilla is on her way."

She tried for a look of disapproval but it slid off her face.
"*Camilla*, Mulder. Dr. Hammond went to find her. Be
nice--she's the one driving you to the front entrance."

"Seems appropriate. She's been driving me up the wall for
days." He tossed the basin onto the tray table and began
plucking at his shirt.

Eyebrows raised, Grey waved a hand in his brother's
direction. *See?*

"I know she's a little...abrasive, but her heart's in the right
place." When Mulder graduated from plucking to
scratching Scully grabbed his fingers. "Stop that."

"It itches."

She hooked a finger in the neck of his shirt, pulling it aside
to check the bandage covering the wound left by the central
line. "Itching means healing. That's good."

"Scratching means relief. That's good too." But he dropped
his hand to his lap.

"All right, Mr. Mulder." Camilla breezed into the room
with a wheelchair and her customary no-nonsense scowl.
She wagged a finger at him. "Stay put until I can help you--
"

"No problem, ma'am, I've got it covered." Grey gave her a
soul-melting grin, taking Mulder's elbow and steadying him
as he plopped into the chair.

"Why, thank you, Mr. McKenzie! The help is much
appreciated." Camilla dimpled, blushing to the roots of her
silver hair.

Mulder rolled his eyes but said nothing.

As they rolled out the door, Camilla tossed over her
shoulder, "Don't forget Mr. Mulder's personal effects, Dr.
Scully. Top drawer of the bedside table."

"But he didn't..." Scully shrugged when Camilla kept
walking. Waving Grey onward, she stepped back into the
room.

She crossed to the table and tugged open the drawer,
sweeping her eyes perfunctorily over the interior. At first
glance it appeared empty, and she'd begun sliding the
drawer shut when a small baggie caught her eye. She lifted
it, staring at the dark, glassy rock inside.

How could she have forgotten? Slowly, Scully opened the
bag and grasped the smooth surface, flinching at the odd
sensation of warmth. Holding it up to the light revealed
nothing--if the object contained some kind of power source,
the opaque surface effectively concealed it.

Grey's head appeared around the corner. "You coming?"

She startled, nearly dropping the rock. Sliding it into the
bag and then her pocket, she turned with a brittle smile.
"Let's go."

Mulder and Camilla were parked at the elevators, wearing
identical sour expressions when Grey jogged up and
punched the button.

"Everything okay?" Mulder studied her face, his voice
warm with concern.

She snagged his hand from the arm of the chair, weaving
their fingers together. "Everything is good, Mulder."

A high-pitched ding and the elevator doors rumbled open.
Two nurses and a young couple got off, leaving the car
empty. Camilla took two strides forward before Mulder
clamped both hands onto the wheels, stopping the chair.

Camilla let out a displeased huff. "Mr. Mulder, please let
go. I can't push when you do that."

Grey thrust out a blocking arm as the doors began closing.
They popped back open, chiming a soft protest. Camilla
gave the chair another shove, but Mulder clamped down
harder, knuckles white.

"Mr. Mulder." Camilla clipped out the name like a curse,
sending Scully a longsuffering glare.

Scully stood in front of him, perplexed. Mulder was staring
into the elevator car, teeth tormenting his lower lip.

"Mulder?"

"Just...just wait a minute." His eyes cut to the left, locking
onto the red exit sign. "We're only four floors up. How
'bout we take the stairs?"

"Nonsense." Camilla gave the chair a jiggle. "Mr. Mulder, I
need you to remove your hands from the wheels so we can
get into the elevator. You're wasting my time; I have other
patients to attend to."

"Mulder, you know you're in no condition to navigate
stairs." Scully kept her tone gentle as she reclaimed his
hand. "Come on."

She stayed close as Camilla trundled the chair into the
elevator and Grey punched the button.

The instant the doors began moving Mulder tensed,
crushing her fingers. "Open the door!"

Scully gasped, half in shock, half in pain, while Grey
simply gaped at his brother's wild eyes and high, panic-
stricken voice.

"Open the door, open it!" Mulder lurched forward,
dropping Scully's hand and straining for the control panel.
"Have to get out. Now!"

"Mulder, it's all right. We'll be down in a minute," Scully
soothed, pressing gently against his chest as the elevator
began its decent.

Grey laid a hand on his brother's outstretched arm, guiding
downward. "Easy, Fox."

Mulder's breathing escalated to quick pants, a sheen of
sweat breaking out on his face. His eyes darted around the
car's interior and his body thrummed like an overstretched
rubberband. "No, no, no. Can't...can't breathe, gotta..."

"You're fine, Mr. Mulder. Sit down." Camilla firmly
gripped his shoulders, pulling him toward the back of the
chair.

At the touch of her hands, Mulder's whole body jerked.
"NO!"

He wrenched free from her grasp, knocking aside their
restraining hands while struggling to scramble out of the
chair. "No, don't! I don't want it.
Letmeoutletmeoutletmeout!"

Scully caught his face between her palms but could not
make contact with his blank, terrified eyes. "Mulder!
Mulder, calm down, it's--shit!" His flailing hand smacked
her in the face and sent her stumbling backward, head
thudding against the wall.

She cradled her throbbing cheek, blinking back tears.
Mulder had dragged himself out of the chair, fingers
scrabbling at the crack between the doors, and Camilla was
reaching for the emergency call button as the floor
indicator light skipped from 3 to 2. Taking advantage of his
brother's distraction, Grey lunged from behind, wrapping
both arms around Mulder's chest. The wheelchair tipped
over as they both tumbled to the floor.

"Don't...d...don't. Have to get out."

"Shhh, easy, Fox. You're safe." Grey rested his chin on his
brother's shoulder and murmured the words into his ear.

Mulder stopped fighting, his frantic gasps harsh in the
abrupt quiet. "Grey?"

"I'm here. Everything's gonna be all right. Just breathe." He
looked up at Scully. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Scully pushed past the flustered Camilla and
knelt beside them, pressing her fingers to Mulder's wrist,
then brushing the hair from his eyes and checking his
pupils.

A faint bump and the elevator doors opened. Grey gazed up
at the curious faces of an elderly man and two young
women. He flashed them a grin as he and Scully hauled
Mulder upright and out of the car while Camilla picked up
the wheelchair. "Hang onto your hats, folks. That ride gets
a bit bumpy."

Scully pursed her lips but merely took the wheelchair from
Camilla, holding it steady while Grey lowered his brother.
Mulder slumped into the seat, chin tucked to his chest. His
respiration had already slowed dramatically.

The nurse cleared her throat. "I'll get Dr. Hammond."

"No." Mulder lifted his head. Occasional tremors still
shook his thin frame, but his eyes were clear and lucid. "No
doctor."

Camilla's eyes narrowed. "Mr. Mulder, I have never, in all
my years--"

Scully held up a hand. "Thank you anyway, Camilla, but
that's not necessary. Didn't you say you had other patients?
We can handle things from here."

Camilla gritted her teeth. "Yes. I certainly do." She pasted
on a tight little smile as she turned away. "Best of luck to
all of you." The unspoken implication was clear: *You're
going to need it.*

Scully crouched down, one hand on Mulder's knee, the
other stroking up and down his arm. "Talk to me, Mulder.
What just happened?"

He blinked and shook his head. "I don't know."

"Mulder."

"I don't know!" When she flinched he sighed. "I don't
understand it myself, Scully. I just...I had this
overwhelming sensation that I was trapped. Like the walls
were closing in on me and I couldn't get enough oxygen.
I'm sorry I hared out on you like that, but I'm okay now.
Can we please just get out of here?"

She thought about the eerily similar incident during the
MRI but decided not to push. Mulder's eyes, dark with
exhaustion, and the aftershocks still shivering through his
limbs convinced her the subject was best left for another
day.

She smiled and cocked her head toward Grey. "Sounds
good to me. What do you think?"

"I think we'd better blow this joint before Nurse Godzilla
comes back with reinforcements." He shook his head with
mock amazement. "You sure know how to win friends and
influence people, don'tcha, Fox?"

Scully chuffed, grateful for Grey's wry humor. "Just
worked that out, did you?"

"It's a gift." Though still trembling, Mulder licked dry lips
and managed a weak smile. "Let's go home."


Continued in Chapter 7

Blood Ties 12: By the Road We Came (7/21)
By Dawn


Outside Richmond, VA
Sunday
8:12 PM


Grey squinted against the oncoming headlights, digging
fingers into the tight muscles at the base of his neck. He
tipped his head left, then right, and rolled both shoulders,
sighing when his spine shifted and popped.

"Still having back trouble?"

He glanced over at Scully, a wry smile twisting his lips.
"Tends to flare up when I'm tense. And I haven't exactly
been keeping my chiropractor appointments these last few
weeks."

"Sorry."

"What the heck for?"

She lifted one shoulder, amusement coloring her voice. "I
feel partly responsible. After all, you injured it pulling Bill
to safety--despite the fact he'd just behaved like an ass."

"Darlin', don't take this the wrong way, but your brother's
been an ass ever since I met him. I'm afraid it's a permanent
condition."

"You've got a point."

"How has your family reacted to Fox's disappearance?"

"Mom's...bewildered. Kidnapping she could understand,
but alien abduction?"

"Kinda hard to swallow." Grey laughed quietly. "Yeah, I
can relate."

"Charlie, on the other hand, has been a rock. He's called me
a couple times a week, keeping tabs on me, on the search.
The whole alien component doesn't seem to faze him--but
then, it never did."
She smiled. "Charlie's always been the believer in the
family. He was the last to give up on Santa Claus and the
first to become convinced a ghost haunted our neighbor's
shed. During his telekinesis phase, he lost at least a half
dozen spoons trying to bend them with his mind. Drove my
mother nuts."

"And Billy Boy?" Grey prodded when she fell silent.

"Bill is Bill."

"Huh. Like I said, it's a permanent condition."

"Let's just say Bill has had his own...theories regarding
Mulder's whereabouts. None of them flattering to Mulder's
character."

"For instance?"

"You don't want to hear this, Grey."

"Sure I do."

"No, you--"

"Dana, what the hell did he say?"

Scully bit her lip, staring out the window. "In his kinder
moments he suggested that Mulder had been kidnapped by
one of the many 'nutcases' we've encountered during the
course of our work."

"That's the *kind* version?"

Scully chuckled through gritted teeth. "His less charitable
theory had Mulder...snapping under pressure. Experiencing
a complete mental breakdown, losing it, and wandering off
to parts unknown."

"Son of a bitch."

"That term was mentioned, yes."

Grey flexed his fingers, curling them more tightly around
the steering wheel. "Speaking of losing it... What exactly
happened in that elevator, Dana? Some sort of panic
attack?"

Scully leaned over and peered into the back of the SUV.
Mulder sprawled across the seat, one leg bent at the knee,
the other trailing onto the floor. Lips parted, his chest rose
and fell with the deep, slow breaths of heavy sleep.

She turned back to Grey, voice hushed. "More like a
flashback. His reaction in that elevator was uncomfortably
similar to his behavior during the MRI. In both instances,
confinement in a small space triggered not only extreme
anxiety but what I believe could be a memory."

Grey winced. "That's a helluva memory."

"Just the tip of the iceberg, I'm afraid. We knew it wasn't
going to be easy, Grey. Mulder will need help dealing with
the past three months, but he'll fight it. Things could get
ugly."

"We'll double team him, darlin'. He won't know what hit
him."

She blinked stinging eyes. "I just assumed... You've been
on leave of absence more than four weeks."

"You expected I'd drop you two at the curb and make
tracks, huh?"

"Well, when you put it that way..."

He reached over and squeezed her shoulder. "I'll be here as
long as you and Fox need me."

The knot in her chest loosened. "Thank you."

"Have you talked to Walt recently?"

"Earlier this afternoon, once I knew Mulder would be
released. He made it very clear that the Bureau will cover
Mulder's bills, since he essentially incurred his...injuries on
the job. Which reminds me..."

She pulled the bag from her pocket. "Recognize this?"

Grey's eyes widened. "That's it. That's the rock Fox picked
up just before we saw the spaceship. The one that burned
his hand."

"And the object he was clutching when they found him. I
touched it earlier, in his room, and it was uncomfortably
warm. Yet now it's cool."

Grey shrugged. "It must hold some significance, but I'll be
damned if I know what."

She tucked it away with a sigh. "I'll have the boys take a
look. Maybe they can come up with something, or at least--
"

Soft rustling of cloth and restless limbs caught her
attention. In the back seat Mulder had curled into a fetal
position, knees drawn to his chest and arms hugged tightly
to his body. His face contorted, eyes squeezed shut in a
pained grimace.

"Don't...please." Words moaned in a breathy whisper,
barely audible over the engine's hum.

Scully took off her seatbelt and leaned between the seats.
"Shh. It's okay, Mulder. You're dreaming."

He folded into a tighter ball, arms now wrapped around his
head. "Stop...hurts. Scully...no."

Scully reached out and grasped his wrist, tugging the arm
from his face. "Mulder, it's all right. You're safe--"

Her soothing murmur cut off with a sharp cry as Mulder
opened his eyes wide and clamped his hands around her
throat. Snarling, he squeezed, dragging her into the back
seat. "No! I won't let you."

Scully clawed at his fingers, gasping for air. She kicked
frantically, pummeling Grey and momentarily dislodging
his grip on the steering wheel. The car swerved, veering
onto the wrong side of the road and into the path of an
oncoming van.

"Shit!" Grey seized the wheel and jerked hard to the right,
cutting across their own lane and onto the shoulder. He
stomped on the brake and the car skidded to a stop.

Scully saw spots dance across her vision. Digging her
fingernails into Mulder's arm, she thrashed, unable to choke
out a protest. Mulder growled, shaking her until she went
limp. "Leave me alone!"

A click, the rush of cold air, and she dropped to the floor.
Harsh, raspy coughs tore through her chest, watering her
eyes as she gulped air. She heard Grey shouting, but his
voice sounded as if it came from the end of a long tunnel.
Still draped painfully between the seats, she crawled the
rest of the way into the back and sat up.

Grey held Mulder in a headlock, speaking soothing words
into his ear. As she watched, her fingers pressed
protectively over her throat, Mulder stopped struggling.
Slowly, the anger and fear faded from his eyes. His
forehead wrinkled and his lips parted as he gaped at
Scully's ashen face. Grey cautiously released him.

"Scully?" Mulder reached for her, snatching back his hand
when she flinched. "Scully, what happened? I--"

A truck whizzed past, flooding the car with light. Mulder
recoiled, his breath stuttering, then speeding up. "What...
I...I did this?" Once again, he stretched a hand toward her.

This time, Scully remained still as he gently traced her
throat with trembling fingers. "You remember?" She spoke
with difficulty as the words grated past irritated tissue.

Mulder shivered. "No. No! I would never... I mean, yes, I
remember but...but not this, not you." He pressed his
forehead to his knees and rocked.

Scully scooted onto the seat. She stroked her fingers
through his hair while Grey, his forehead scrunched and
spine stiff, rubbed circles on his back. "Tell me, Mulder,"
she rasped. "Tell me what you remember."

He shook his head violently. "Doesn't make sense."

"Tell me anyway."

He was silent a long time before speaking. "Pain. Worse
than anything I've ever felt. Like being ripped apart from
the inside out." His muffled voice cracked and broke.

She continued the gentle motion of her hand, forcing breath
past the weight in her chest. "What else?"

"Fighting. Light pinning me down. Voices telling me not to
resist. To submit." He lifted his head, teeth chattering from
the tremors running through his body. He scanned her face
as if looking for the answer to his confusion. "*Your*
voice. It was you, Scully...but it wasn't. I...it makes no
sense." He ground the heels of his hands into his eyes.
"Head hurts."

Scully shrugged off the horror his words invoked. "I can
help with that. Grey, could you get my purse and a bottle of
water?"

She gave Mulder two pills, steadying his hand as he
swallowed them without question. Grey helped them settle
into the back seat, reclaimed his spot behind the wheel, and
resumed driving.

Mulder touched her neck. "I'm so sorry, babe. I didn't
mean...you know I would never..."

"Of course you wouldn't."

He turned away with a bitter laugh. "You must be asking
yourself why you kept looking."

"That's not funny, Mulder."

"It wasn't meant to be a joke."

She cradled his face between her palms. "I looked because I
need you, Mulder, like I need my next breath. Because you
are my center; you touch every part of me." She brushed
her thumbs across his cheeks, the smile quivering on her
lips. "Because you make me a whole person, and I can't do
this without you. That's why I kept looking, why I would
have continued looking no matter how long it took."

"Scully." He whispered her name, blinking back tears.

More than three months. Scully leaned over and touched
her mouth to his in a long, sweet kiss. Eventually, she
pulled away, and resting her forehead against his,
murmured, "Welcome home."

He turned his face into the curve of her neck.

Scully pulled the pillow into her lap and patted it. "Rest,
Mulder. It's still another hour to DC."

He tensed, spine straightening and face expressionless.
"That's okay. I'm not tired." Blinking bloodshot eyes, he
smothered a yawn with the back of his hand.

"Do it for me, then. It's been a rough trip and you're still
very weak."

"Scully."

"Mulder." She smoothed the hair back from his brow. "It's
all right. I promise I won't let you dream."

Too tired to argue further, he let her guide him down,
curling up with his head in her lap. Body stiff and eyes
wide open, he fought exhaustion until the monotonous
drone of tires on pavement and the seductive warmth of her
body lulled him to sleep.

Scully dropped her head onto the seatback. Her throat
throbbed and she felt bruised inside.

"You hangin' in there?"

She'd almost forgotten Grey's presence. His eyes in the rear
view mirror reflected affection and concern. "I'm fine."

"Uh-huh. And if I believe that one I'll bet you've got some
swampland in Florida for me."

"It's not as if I didn't expect this, Grey. I warned you things
would get rough."

Grey snorted. "This was way beyond rough, darlin', and
you for damn sure know it. You can't tell me you expected
your husband would assault you. So drop the 'I'm fine'--
nobody here is buyin' it."

Scully brushed the moisture from her eyes, smiling weakly.
"Okay, maybe fine is an exaggeration."

"Now we're getting somewhere."

"What do you want me to say, Grey? Yes, the fact that
Mulder tried to strangle me is only slightly less horrifying
than the fact he identifies me with the torture inflicted upon
him." Mulder flinched, brow furrowing. She rubbed his arm
until he settled, then continued in a more subdued tone.
"I'm fine because I have to be fine. Because Mulder needs
me to be fine."

Grey blew out a gusty breath. "Just help me understand,
Dana. Why would Fox associate you with pain when we all
know you'd never hurt him?"

She felt ill, her stomach twisted in knots. "One race of
aliens we've run across can change their physical
appearance at will. They've proved to be excellent mimics.
I was completely taken in by one that looked just like
Mulder."
Grey turned toward her, his face blank with shock. A horn
blared, and he jumped, dragging his gaze back to the road.
Clearing his throat could not mask the unsteadiness in his
voice. "Are you saying..."

"They used me against him, Grey. The one person he trusts
more than any other. To confuse him, control him--perhaps
simply to torment him. His mind may tell him it wasn't real,
wasn't me, but his body remembers. Mulder remembers."

She touched Mulder's hair, his cheek, shivering despite the
warmth seeping from his body to hers.

"I hope to God he can forget."


Continued in Chapter 8