Title: Rift8::: Glory
Author: RocketMan >lebontrager@iname.com<
Co-Producer: Melissa Kennedy >scullee@email.com<
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is
intended.

~~~~
Glory
~~~~

"It is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory."
-- 1 Corinthians 15: 43

~~~~

She clutched the phone, knuckles white and palm sweaty, listening to her
mother attempt to give her reassurances.

"Dana?"

"I'm listening, Mom. . .sorry."

"Dana, I'm bringing Grace over there."

Scully licked her lips and watched the nurse wheel a cart down the hall,
her shoes squeaking along the tiled floor, lips pursed.

"Mom, I don't she needs to be at the hospital again. . ."

"Dana, you can't keep her out of your life. . .she needs to know."

A woman ran into the emergency room, screaming, her hands bloody, her eyes
panicked.

Scully moved to the side, pushing herself further into the corner to keep
from getting into the way. In the rush of people and blood and fear, she
lost track of her mother's words and found a dead phone in her hands.

Her mother was on her way there.
~~~~

The room was too bright, the glare of lights sharp against his eyelids.
Mulder moved restlessly along the bed, the sheets itching his legs.

She came back into his room and he grinned sleepily.

"Mmm,Scully."

She frowned and leaned down to brush his hairline, her fingers gentle and
cautious.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not too much. Got some stitches and some . . .some. . .pain stuff."

"I see it's working. . ." she murmured, and kissed his cheek. 

The white swatch of bandage was spread across his forehead, taped down
just below his hairline, covering over one eye because the knife blade had
slashed all the way down.

"How's your shoulder, Mulder?"

He winced and wrapped his fingers around the railing, sighing.

"Hurts huh?"

"You could say that."

She worried her lip between her teeth and then glanced back to the door,
as if she wanted to  leave.

"I. . .I'm sorry, Mulder. . ."

"Not your fault," he whispered and moved his good arm to catch hold of her
jacket.

"I was supposed to check the back. I was supposed to do my job."

"It's understandable. I. . .You wanted to get back out there, and I let
you."

"It's my fault, Mulder. . .I am so sorry."

He closed his eyes and sighed, feeling too exhausted to argue with her,
even though she was being unfair to herself.

She had stormed at him, raged the entire weekend to be allowed back at
work, and the very first day, that Monday, she had been caught up in
herself. She had endangered his life with her own sudden onslaught of
grief.

"I'm okay, Scully. You're okay. No problems."

She looked away, her eyes brimming with self-loathing, her fingers white
and trembling along the railing.

"Just. . .just say you forgive me. . ."

He tugged on her jacket, pulled her down closer to him, his eyes intense.

"I forgive you." he whispered and kissed her lips with tenderness.

"It won't happen again," she added and moved back, heart still far away.

He watched her drift to the door, then out to the hallway to wait for her
mother and Grace.

Something was wrong again, he knew. Something had fallen apart that day.
~~~~

Grace peeked into the room, her eyes wide, head filled with the images her
grandmother had been trying to prepare her for.

Her daddy was wrapped in guaze, all along his face, so that she his right
eye was partially hidden from her, his shoulder bandaged too.

"You look like a pirate, Daddy!" she said and bounced into the room, glad
that her father was smiling.

"Really? Cool."

"Can we play pirates when you get home?"

"Sure, baby. I shouldn't be here too much longer. Go ask your mother when
I get to leave."

Grace ran full tilt from the room, yelling for her mother, excited about
how neat her father would look and the ship they could build from the
dining room chairs.

Mrs. Scully took his hand and smoothed his errant bangs, smiling gently.

"Dana's being funny about it, isn't she?"

Mulder gave her a wilting smile. "I can't make her stop blaming herself."

"Well, was it her fault?"

Mulder paused, suddenly confronted with a truth he hadn't wanted to look
at clearly.

"I. . .I. . .She says it was. I don't. . .know."

Mrs. Scully pressed her lips together, then sat down in the chair, taking
up Mulder's hand in her own, knowing that remembering was tough.

"Tell me what happened, Fox. Dana's not saying."

"We were called out by Kersh because lately, I'd been doing some X-Files
on my own, while she was on leave, and he was reaming me for it. So we got
stuck on surveillance. Well, the subject started moving, so we radioed
that in and followed discreetly. He went to some. . .I don't know, I think
it was a girl's club. Scully told them out position and everyone went kind
of beserk. There's a restraining order on this guy for one of the dancer's
and he was there and so they wanted us inside quick."

Mulder paused, pushing a finger inside one his bandages, snaking his nail
along an itch over his eyebrow, wincing when it caught on stitches.

"So we run in there, she goes to the back, and I told her. . .I told her.
. .I want you back there. I want you to stay back there with the girl.
See. . .ah, well. I sort of know the layout of this place, please don't
ask me why. . .and she sort of looked at me. I could tell what I said was
a shock, that I'd know where the girls were, but she went around back,
through the stage door. I busted in the front."

"Fox. . ." Mrs. Scully said softly, shaking her head. 

He gave her a sigh and leaned back. "We got there and I saw her right
behind me. . .or maybe she came through, I don't know. Maybe she couldn't
find the girl, but she was right behind me. And as I was looking through
the dim light, I had my gun drawn low so no one would tip him off. I was
thinking, he's out front, he's out front, Scully's got the back. I. . .I
don't know. He was suddenly just there, that knife flashing right in front
of me. . .I couldn't move. Scully behind me and I knew I *couldn't* move
or it'd get her, so I just stood there. I dropped. I think she shot him."

His shoulders slumped, he closed his eyes, pushing away the images of a
blade slashing, of seeing Scully's bright red hair behind him, of the
man's face, grinning.

"Fox, was it her fault?"

He looked over at her, keeping his face blank, impassive, unreachable.

"I don't know. If you're asking me was Scully where she was supposed to
be, then I can't answer that. Only she can."

"It is my fault," came a loud, strong voice.

He looked up, saw her there in the doorway, eyes wavering, lips parted as
she breathed in the air of her body's betrayal.

"Scully."

He didn't sound surprised, nor did he sound guilty for talking about her.
He had thought she might be there, he could almost feel her.

"I didn't go to the back. You said it and I couldn't. . .couldn't go back
there, not and be so close to what. . .what almost tore us apart. . ."

"It doesn't make another man's actions your fault, Dana." Margaret stood,
approaching her.

"Yes mother, it does. I didn't do my job. I got caught up in personal
pettiness."

Mulder held out his hand, face in such a concentrated mask that she felt
sure he was willing her to lace her fingers through his, reaffirm their
connection.

She couldn't do it.

His hand dropped to the bed.

"I forgive you, Scully. . .all those times I've been nothing. . .nothing
but awful to you, and you forgave me. I can do no less."

She looked off to the side, then the moment was broken by Grace running
through with a battered piece of cardboard in one hand and a hastily
scribbled map clutched in the other.

"Look what Mommy helped me make! It's a map of the world, and I drew the
continents all by myself, with their names, but Mommy wrote those in and
told me how they were supposed to look."

Mulder smiled achingly at her and glanced to Scully, a hint of hope in his
eyes.

"What else do you have there?"

"A sword. The big man down there gave it to me."

Mulder looked to Scully and she nodded, showing that Grace hadn't met some
wacko intent on giving people diseased ridden toxic waste or something.

Strange how his paranormal theories manifested themselves when concerned
with the saftey and health of his daughter.

"All right. Does that mean we get to be pirates right here?"

"Yup. And Gramma can be the princess that we capture and Mommy can be the
good prince who comes and saves her. I would make you the prince, Daddy,
but you're stuck right now, and your bed has to be the ship. K?"

Mulder grinned despite the pain that action shot up through his head, and
patted the bed.

"Sounds good, baby."

Grace got up on the bed and pointed her sword in the air, then paused.

"Wait, I have a better idea. Gramma and me can be pirates, and Mommy is
the princess who saves Daddy from us big tough mea guys. That way you can
kiss when Mommy rescues you, Daddy."

Mulder's eyebrows shot up and Scully smiled softly, still standing in the
doorway.

"Come on, Mommy. Play with us. You have to be in a sword fight with Gramma
first," she said, then lowered her voice. "You beat her, Mommy. Then you
have a fight with me and it's longer cause I'm a better pirate."

Grace said this in all seriousness, as if she was discussing a sensitive
subject and didn't want Mrs. Scully to know.

Scully moved in closer, then glanced to her mother. They both shrugged.

Mulder laughed. "Ah, just what I like. Women fighting for me."

Grace leaned back on the bed and pushed his good arm. "Sh, Prince. You
gotta be quiet or. . . else!"

Mulder laughed, then began choking on the effect of pain and bruises, and
had to have Scully hold his head so he could stop hurting, and Grace
stared at him in horror.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm sorry. I didn't know I'd hurt you."

He shook his head. "I'm all right, baby. Just fine. You made me laugh, and
I need to laugh."

Grace seemed mollified and Mulde caught his breath, giving Scully's
fingertips a kiss.

"You'd better come rescue me, Princess," he whispered, just as Grace began
directing everyone in play again.
~~~~

She was smiling, laughing, watching Grace's fanciful dance along Mulder's
bed as they mock fought a glorious battle.

He liked staring at her, loved the wide, full lips as she laughed, the
glint of superior intelligence behind her eyes as she took in her
daughter's elaborate dance.

Suddenly Grace clutched her chest, her face so stricken, so deathly pale,
that Scully froze, the room chilled, life swayed in the balance.

She sucked in a breath and Scully jumped forward, arms out for Grace, fear
etched plainly on her face, but only plain to him, as he watched her so
intently.

But Grace made an obviously faked choking and gurgling noise and swaggered
all over the bed, tripping over his feet and hanging her tongue.

She was playing the pirate to the hilt, making veiled threats as Scully
stood back, letting her heart slow to normal, her adrenaline work out of
her blood.

When the pirate's death throes were over, Scully moved in to Mulder with a
smile, ready to kiss him.

Grace made a few more gagging noises, just to let everyone know she was
still the star of the show, and Scully smiled, a quirk of a thing, like an
afterthought.

Mulder leaned eagerly forward and licked his lips.

"Ah, you saved me, Princess."

Scully leaned in and brushed her lips across his, quick, light, and
chaste, but carrying enough promise that he shifted in the bed and choked
on a cough.

"Where's the rest of my kiss?" he whispered, frowning.

"Now, that wouldn't be proper for a princess, Sir," she replied letting
her eyes talk for her.

He nodded and poked at the heap of a girl on his bed with his toe. "Your
production's over, Gracie. You did a great job."

She bounced up, beaming, and Gramma began to applaud her, causing Mulder
and Scully to follow, he rolling his eyes.

"As if she needs a bigger head," he muttered, as Grace began bowing.

Scully poked him and reached up to give Grace a kiss. "Good job, baby."

"Thanks, Momma. You're a good actor."

She looked to Mulder, and her entire body seemed to still, in fright or
fear or horror, Scully wasn't sure, but she turned too.

She swallowed hard and licked her lips. "Come here, Gracie. I'll take you
to get a drink."

Grace went into Scully's arms and then down to the floor, clutching her
mother's arm with a death grip as they walked out of the room, Grace
talking about getting a Coke and Scully shaking her head.

Mulder hoped Scully wasn't going to give that girl any more sugar.

Forget caffeine.

"Fox?"

He glanced over to Mrs. Scully, smiling at her. 

"Ah, children can always heal the soul," he said softly.

She nodded, then pointed to his arm. "I think that's why Dana took Grace
out."

Mulder glanced down to his bandaged shoulder and found an enormous blood
stain spreading across, and now that he saw it, he could feel it too.

It was making him just a little dizzy.

Just as he glanced back up to her, a nurse rushed in, a doctor quick on
her heels, both their expressions grim.

Mrs. Scully backed out of the room so that Dana could come in, and he felt
her take his hand before she left.

Scully sidled up next to him as they cut away the bandage.

He glanced to her, not sure why they were frightened, not sure what was
going on.

The doctor looked at his stitches and made a face, her eyebrows peaking as
she pointed something out to Scully.

"We're going to have to start you on some antibiotics, Mr. Mulder," she
said softly.

"Why? It's just bleeding a little."

"We're hoping that's all. But it could be the beginnings of blood
poisoning, and being so close to your heart, we need to catch it and treat
it now."

Mulder's mouth dropped and he looked to Scully.

She was crying.

He touched her shoulder, but she shrank away, so he grabbed her roughly,
pulling her body down close to his, unhindered by the railing because it'd
been pulled down as they worked on him.

Her ear was close to his lips; if he stopped breathing, she'd know it
immediately.

"This is *not* your fault, Dana Scully. This isn't you fault," he
whispered thickly, kissing her forcefully, as if his ferocity could make
her understand.

She nodded against his shoulder and said nothing, but her tears stopped
quickly.

The nurse got a kit from outside and came back to start an IV of
antibiotics, her method efficient.

"I'm going to be fine," he said and traced his fingers along her lips.

She kissed him along the pad of his thumb and moved away.

"I'm going to go get Grace. She was a little frightened."

He nodded and watched her leave, watched her fade away into herself again.

Watched her disappear.
~~~~
~~~~

"May the angels protect you
And sadness forget you
Little star
There's no reason to weep
Lay your head down to sleep"
--"Little Star" Madonna

~~~~

Grace was taken home with Gramma, so she could sleep in her own bed and
get up the next morning for school. She said good-bye reluctantly and
kissed her mother, but was too afraid to touch her father.

She was wondering if she brought death to everything she touched.

Her grandmother bustled her inside and hung up her backpack on the peg
next to the front door, then sat her down on the small bench in the foyer
to take her shoes off.

Grace held her balance by clutching Gramma's shoulders, and she looked
around at the pictures placed along the walls. They were happy photos,
with her and her parents and her Gramma, and then some with Uncle Charlie,
and one of her cousin  Matt. He was way older than her, and he liked to
boss her around.

She held up her chin as her Gramma cleaned her face of the sucker she'd
had at the hospital, then took hold of the elder woman's hand as they
walked in to the bedroom.

"Are you ready for bed, Gracie?"

Grace nodded, liking how Gramma said her name just like her mother did.

There was something different about how her mother said things, than from
her father. Momma had a funny accent to her voice, where her 's' sounded
warm and rolling, and Grace liked the way her name sounded with her
mother's tongue. Her Gramma had some of that too.

Like a kind of softness.

"Let's find some jammies, huh, Grace?"

Grace went to her drawers and pulled out the bottom one, where her
underwear and pajamas were kept in easy reach for her, and draped her
Superman pants over the edge.

"Are those yours, Gracie? Superman?"

"Unh-huh."

Grace let Gramma whisk off her T-shirt, then her jeans, and she wriggled
into her Superman pants and the top with the broad 'S' across the chest
and the red cape.

"Feel like being a little more super tonight, don't you Gracie?" 

Grace's tiny chin quivered, just as Dana's had as a child, just as
Melissa's had, and Margaret held out her arms to her granddaughter.

The tiny body crashed into hers, tears falling freshly from bright eyes,
and Grace held tightly to her grandmother's hug.

"Daddy's bleeding!" she said, sobbing.

"Oh, baby, Daddy's going to be just fine. Just fine."

Grace sniffled and pulled away, her storm of tears quickly over, and her
chest puffing.

"Daddy'll be fine," she repeated, as if to make herself believe.

Then she crawled into her bed, and pulled up her covers, eyes squeezing
tightly shut as if she could will away her bad thoughts.

Gramma leaned down and kissed her forehead, just like her mother did, and
then smoothed back her hair.

She prayed with her grandmother, and she begged God to make her daddy
okay.
~~~~

Scully felt a touch to her shoulder and glanced up, confused.

A nurse stood in silhouette by the doorway, a gentle hand hovering over
Scully's sleepy body. 

Blinking, Scully looked first to Mulder, but saw he was asleep, stable.

"Dana?" the lady said, her face questioning. "Your mother's on the phone."

"My mother?!"

Scully jumped up and followed the nurse out of the room, down the hall, to
the desk, snatching up the phone and hurriedly answering.

She heard wailing.

"Dana? Grace had a bad dream, and I can't get her to calm down. She's
asking for you."

"Me?"

Scully stood there in shock, thoughts in a swirl of sleep and confusion
and hurt for her daughter.

"What's going on, Mom?"

"She had a nightmare. Could you come-?"

"Oh, oh, of course. Wait, put Grace on."

Scully fiddled with the phone cord as she heard the sobs get louder, and
she realized her mother must be going crazy. Her mother could always
console children; she just had that touch with the young.

"Mommy?" came a warbled voice, hitching with tears.

"Oh, baby. Are you all right?"

"I had a very bad dream. I want you, Mommy."

Scully closed her eyes to her own tears, and felt her body slump against
the counter.

"I'm coming, baby. I'll be there, all right? Are you going to be okay
until I get there?"

"I want you," she whispered.

"I'm coming. Hang up the phone now, Gracie. Okay?"

"Okay."

The line clicked dead in her hands and Scully felt a faint smile for her
daughter's phone manners. Just as bad as Mulder.

Running back to his room, she gathered her keys and wallet, stuffing her
shoes on again. Mulder was still asleep, but she didn't want him waking
without her there.

She touched his forehead and placed a gentle kiss along his brow, rubbing
his skin with her fingers.

His eyes flickered and he was awake immediately, despite all the pain
medication they'd given him earlier.

"I've got to go, Mulder. Grace had a bad dream."

He nodded. "Does she want to come up here, with me?"

Scully felt a tiny thread of shock course through her. Even Mulder
expected Grace to want him first, for everything.

"No. No, she wants me to come for her."

His eyes opened wider, and he smiled briefly. "Good. . .I'll sleep."

She let her lips glance his cheek, then his mouth more intently. "I'll see
you."

He nodded and his eyes slipped close.
~~~~

When she walked in the door at midnight, a little body flew into her legs
and clamped there, not letting her move forward or back.

Scully pried Grace from her and held her tightly, slamming the door with
her foot.

"Gracie, Gracie. What's wrong, honey?"

"I had a bad dream."

Scully circled her arms around Grace's waist and picked her up, nestling
her close to her body.

Margaret Scully came in from the kitchen, holding a glass of warmed milk,
her eyes weary and body slumped.

"Sorry, Mom." Scully nodded softly and kissed her mother, all too aware of
the way she had treated her mother as a child. Dana had been a Daddy's
girl, just like Grace, and the knowledge of that kind of hurt always made
her pause, made her want to make it up to her mother.

Margaret hugged her gently and gave her the glass of milk, then headed
back to the guest bedroom down the hall.

"Well, Gracie. Think you can make it back to sleep?"

"No."

Scully smiled and sat down in the rocker placed in the corner of their
dining room, its rickety frame squealing at the added weight.

She cradled Grace against her chest, just as she'd done to her as a baby,
and pushed off with her feet, humming softly.

The milk was still warm so she handed it to Grace, who drank some of it
and then made a face.

"I don't like it warm," she said.

Scully placed the glass on the dining table and held her daughter tighter,
both of them rocking in silence for a few minutes.

Then Scully placed her cheek on Grace's smooth hair, sighing.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"It was a dream."

Scully let it go at that, knowing how hard it was to open up entirely,
especially when you didn't want to seem vulnerable.

"Once, I had a dream about your Daddy. I dreamed that he came and sat down
on the couch with me, but he as he started talking, snakes came out of his
mouth," Scully said, starting in.

Grace was staring at her in shock. "Snakes?"

"Yeah. It was pretty scary. It made me afraid. I woke up and Daddy was
right there, asleep, but I couldn't touch him. I was too afraid."

Scully glanced down at her daughter, giving her an encouraging smile,
rocking them gently.

She remembered how very real that dream had seeemed, how it had made her
want to cry, not because she was afraid of snakes, but because her
subconscious was trying to tell her something she didn't want to hear.

Two days after that, she and Grace had walked into that bar, looking to
surprise him, and she'd seen the woman with him, kissing him.

Dreams had a way of knowing before you did.

Grace shivered and laid her head against her mother's chest.

"I don't remember my dream, Mommy. It was bad."

Scully nodded and continued rocking back and forth, rubbing Grace's back
with a slow hand, watching her lids drift and shutter her eyes.

"If I stay until you fall asleep, do you want me to stay here, or can I go
back and see Daddy?" she whispered softly.

Grace murmured against her and then her eyes opened wider. "Don't want
Daddy lonely."

"All right, baby. Sleep."

Grace's eyes slammed shut with her mother's words and Scully could already
feel her breath vibrating her body.

She sat there in the dark, the moon coming in through the far window, the
night falling down around them, offering better dreams and pleasant
warmth. Her daughter was a wonderful heat along her body, curled into her
like a baby, long lashes framing a sweet face.

Scully watched her hair silver in the moonlight, and her body rise and
fall with each breath, the way her fingers twitched around dreams, and her
legs hung loosely over the sides of the rocker.

She was beautiful, and she had wanted her mother.

Scully held her tighter, treasuring the peace in her heart, pushing it
deep into her, branding the touch and the scent and the moment forever
into her soul.

Grace's mouth was opened, lips parted, face slack, arms curled tightly
around her.

Scully sat there for just a moment longer, then stood, heading for the
stairs.
~~~~
~~~~

"Don't be scared of what you'll find when you turn the light on.
Ain't nobody gonna say good-bye, ain't nobody gonna walk away. . ."
This time baby I'm learning how to love you. . ."
--"Like I Love You," Amy Grant

~~~~

"Mm, Scully wait, where are you going?"

She turned and the room was dark around her, the blinking of her lids like
the ticks of a clock, of his heart beating too loudly in his ears.

There was a rush, a surge of something like wind across his face and he
felt frozen, fixed.

She crouched beside him, the dirty floor of the room staining his suit,
her eyes like swimming pools on a merry-go-round, dizzy and frightening.

He clawed at his face, the burning edge of fear deeply fueling some far
away rage.

She captured his hands and shook her head and she was talking to him,
mouthing something that he couldn't understand, and the room was too dark
to see clearly.

She shook him, and he gasped, wanting to scream as blood poured from his
face in rivers, like the Red Sea parting before her touch, like waterfalls
of gushing life choking and gurgling to the floor.

He grabbed her elbow, but his fingers slipped off, slick with blood.

He stared at his hand, red and red and red, and red. . .red. . .red. . .

It was all gone, all gone.
~~~~

She clutched at his hands, pulling them from his face, her eyes desperate,
panicked.

He was clawing at his stitches in his sleep, aggravating the wounds, the
blood trickling down the side of his face in tiny little creeks.

"Mulder!" she yelled again, shaking his shoulders, even as she kept his
hands from reaching his face again.

In his dreams, he opened his eyes, stared at her, at his hands, and began
to sob. . .

sob. . .

she choked and pulled his body up into her, smoothing away the tears with
a touch, soothing his fears with her presence.

He woke fully, pulled his head from her neck, gaped at her a bit.

She realized she'd been crying too, her own sorrow melting and mirroring
his.

Wiping her face, she pushed back on the bed, glancing critically at his
stitches.

"You had a dream," she said softly, as if that was the only explanation
needed.

He raised a hand to his forhead, then touched his eyebrow, wincing. "Did I
pull these out?"

She nodded and reached for the nurse's call button, thumbing in on with a
flick of her wrist. The light outside his room would brighten and a buzz
would sound at the nurse's station, accompanied by another tiny light.

He came away with blood on his fingers and stared at it for a moment.

"I. . I'll understand if you want me to leave," she said softly.

He shook his head, still not ready for conversation, or even for smiling,
but he needed her there.

"Stay here for a bit. Make sure the nurse stitches me up right."

She sighed. "I meant. . .at work. I'll understand if you want me to leave.
I. . .you need to trust your partner, Mulder. . .and-"

He snared her wrist with a quick hand, shaking his head enough to irritate
the open wounds along his hairline.

"You need to trust your husband too, but even when you couldn't you didn't
make me leave, Scully. I'm not letting you go. Not ever."

"I. . .I was supposed to be in the back, Mulder. All this is because of
me! my mistake."

"Mistake, Scully. A mistake. We all have them. If you want to start
talking about guilt, we can do that, but I'd rather talk about getting
past this."

She shrugged her shoulders, as if cringing under the weight of a burden.
"I don't know how to make you understand. I see you Mulder, I see all
those little nuances of you right there, in your eyes, your movements. And
all those things are telling me that you can't trust me anymore. . .I
failed you Mulder. You could have died."

He quit trying to argue with her, too exhausted to think of good
responses, something other than--but I love you, I need you. That never
seemed to work with her. Scully needed proof, solidity, something to take
in her hands and understand.

He just didn't have the strength to figure out what could do that.

"You wouldn't have let me die, Scully," he said in a sigh, his eyes
drifting shut.

A male nurse making his rounds came in just then, dark eyes brooding as he
looked at Mulder's ripped stitches, the blood.

"We'll get that cleaned right away," the young man said, taking his tray
and pulling on gloves.

Scully watched him butterfly bandage a few parts, additional skin that
Mulder had stretchedin his sleep, and then he carefully made tiny stitches
along his eyebrow.

After some intense, concerted minutes, everything was cleaned and sutured
and Mulder was given some more pain  medicine, to his groaning delight.

She said nothing until the nurse left, when she sat back down on his bed,
cradling a hand in hers.

"Mulder, I feel that this is my fault. You told me exactly what -"

He grunted and pulled his hand from hers to sit up better, then snatched
her fingers up in his palm.

"Look, Scully. It's your fault. Okay? I said it, it's your fault. You
should 've been doing your job."

Her mouth dropped and she stared at him, finding tears rise swiftly in her
eyes, her heart stilled in her chest. A hand crushed her lungs and a choke
came from where her voice was supposed to be.

He shook his hand and pulled her into him, gently, gathering her body to
him as if collecting the pieces of her scattered soul.

"See? You don't really believe it. You don't. It wasn't your fault,
Scully, not at all. If you truly believed you were totally to blame, you
wouldn't have felt like that."

She was still in his arms, stiff and unresponsive, and he wondered for a
moment if he should have even said it to her.

Then she laughed bitterly, but a healing laugh, echoing through her veins
and chest until she was crying from laughter, from her own stupidity.

He grinned and rocked, until she pulled back and glanced at his smiling
eyes. Then she leaned in and kissed him, lips twitching into his mouth,
fingers working at the gown across his chest.

Pulling back, she was grinning, smiling, a newer and better woman, somehow
exonerated of everything she'd been guilty of before, of *every* instance
of failure, of every moment of rebuff.

She wanted to go get Grace, have them all there to celebrate the
wonderful-ness she felt, the way she had finally found, finally come to
realize that she *was* a part of this, she was in this family.

She was needed, loved, trusted. And sometimes wrong, ignored, forgotten.

But things were better, things got better, life happened and then it
didn't.

Mulder caught hold of her shirt hem and tugged, a wicked grin flitting
across his bandaged face.

She smiled. "I've got to go, Mulder. Grace is out of school in about an
hour. . ."

Mulder looked dispppointed, but he was pleased to see his little girl.
"Remember, my blue basketball pants, Scully. Not the black ratty ones."

She nodded. "Got it. Grace and I will come back only with the blue pants,
and get you out of here."

He grinned and leaned in for a kiss good-bye, then waved as she left.

Looking at the closed wooden door, the stillness of the place seeped into
his thoughts and he wondered where her change had come from, *what* her
lightened mood had come from.

She was renewed, eager, smiling. . . he hadn't seen her smile in so very
long.
~~~~
~~~~

"Every road that's travelled, teaches something new,
and every road that's narrow, pushes us to choose,
And I'd be lying if I said, I had not tried to leave a time or two,
But every road that leads me
Leads me back to you."
--"Every Road" Amy Grant

~~~~

She was lying on  her stomach, watching him breathe in soft pants, his
ribs bruised from the previous case, the small scar just above his eye a
stark white in the darkness.

In the muted glow of light coming from under their door, she watched his
hands twitch and she wondered about what he was dreaming.

Grace was in the living room with her grandmother, talking softly for a
change, and not yelling at the top of her lungs as she ran from room to
room. Scully had already come out once to tell her to be quiet; maybe she
had gotten the hint.

Letting out a soft sigh, she pushed herself up on the bed, ready to go
back out there, to make dinner, clean up after Grace, be a mother.

Mulder's arm sneaked around her and pulled her back down, his eyes
opening.

"Were you going to just leave me?" he said, grinning.

"Yes," she said and shrugged, eyebrow quirking.

"I don't think so."

He snuggled into her side and let his breath explode out, ruffling her
shirt.

"Scully. . . ."

"Uh-oh, I hear a serious talk coming on."

He snorted and raised his head up, looking at her, hair falling in his
eyes.

"You know. . .I never really thanked you," he said, i awe.

She glanced to the side, then back at him, confused and bewildered. "For
what?"

"For giving me all that I have. All this," he added, nodding gently.

"Scars and bruises?" she said softly, mouth parting in weariness.

"That too. But mainly, you. You. . .I didn't even ask you. . .and you just
agreed."

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to, Mulder."

"I was pretty arrogant, though."

She grinned. "Yes, you were. I think it's cute."

He batted at her hand, pushing it from his lips. "It's not cute, it gets
me in trouble. I assume things will fall into place. That's why we
practically eloped. I wanted to give you a beautiful wedding, Scully. . .I
wanted to give you so much. . ."

"I've got all I need," she said, pushing away his sudden melancholy with
her smile.

"If you really do. . .then why all of this?" he whispered, hands running
along her stomach.

She laid her head back down, closed her eyes. "I don't know. . .for you,
for me. I was being selfish, I think. I wanted something all my own. . ."

"You've got me, Scully. All your own."

She opened her eyes. "I didn't before. . .whose to say it could never
happen again?"

His eyes stung, and he pulled away from her, laying back on the bed. "I
say. I say it could never happen again. I was stupid and empty. . .I . .
.I don't know how to make you believe."

She bit her lip and rolled over to see his face. "Oh, Mulder. I do
believe. . .I just want this to all go away. I don't want to think about
Ben, or how I almost got you killed, or how we almost fell apart. . ."

He watched her for a moment, then lifted his head to kiss her, gentle,
soft.

"It's okay. We don't have to think right now," he whispered.
~~~~

"Gracie! Phone's for you, baby."

Grace ran up to her father and snatched at the phone, excitemet and
curiosity on her face.

Scully watched her talk, and smiled to Mulder. "I see more of Melissa in
her right now. . .such a social thing. . ."

Mulder gave her a mock glare. "Are you insinuating that I didn't have a
social life as a kid?"

She grinned. "I'm not insinuating anything. . ."

He laughed and shook his head. "I remember the first time you said that. .
.to the county coroner on our first case. . .he was pretty upset over us
digging that boy up."

Scully glanced back to Grace and then sat down at the table with him,
taking his hand.

"I remember. I was excited about working with you, about trying to figure
out this puzzle."

He looked over at Grace, who was smiling and nodding, twisting the phone
card in her fingers, looking so much like a teenage girl that he shivered,
mind shuddering away from that idea.

"You laughed," he said softly, lips curling.

"I could hardly believe I was there. . .hours before I would have turned
and run from you."

"You didn't run. . ."

"No, I didn't. There've been times when I wish I had run, but I never
did."

He licked his top lip, then rubbed a hand down his cheek, sighing. "I'm
glad you didn't, Scully."

She smiled and was interrupted by Grace's giggling. Looking over, she saw
Grace drop the phone to the cradle and come running, her face a huge
smile.

"Guess what? Guess what?"

Scully grinned and Mulder held out his arms, pulling his daughter up into
him.

"What, baby?" he said, smoothing down her hair.

"That was Will. And he wants to go to the mall again, and ride the
carousel. Can I go?"

Scully reared back, shocked that her baby girl was practically going on a
*date* at the age of five, when only yesterday, she was crying in her arms
about not having a baby brother.

"Go. . .with this boy?" she said softly, shaking her head.

Grace was going to be just as beautiful, just as popular as Melissa always
was. Scully was a bit envious, but extremely glad.

"He's gonna ride his bike over, Momma. He lives a block away. Can we go to
the carousel?"

Mulder jiggled her on his knee, then kissed her chin. "Sure, baby. I can
take you."

Grace bit her bottom lip and looked shyly up at her father, then peered at
Scully with intense eyes. "Can Mommy take us instead?"

Mulder's eyes shuttered, and his hand dropped from his little girl's hair;
he looked to Scully with something akin to shock, but closer to sick fear.

"I'll take you, baby," Scully said and gave her daughter a little smile,
feeling Mulder's eys burning into her.

Grace hopped down from her father's lap and ran to Scully, giving her a
huge hug and sloppy kiss before running to the door to unlock it, and wait
on the front steps.

Mulder stood and made for the kitchen, ignoring Scully's attempts to talk
to him. Yanking open the refridgerator, he pulled out the milk carton,
sneaking a glass from the cupboard and then sloshing the liquid over the
side.

Scully came behind him and mopped up his spill with the rag, face closed,
silent.

He jerked the towel from her hands and angrily finished wiping the
counter, putting his fury and his hurt into the job, rather that into his
wife.

She said nothing, knowing he needed to adjust to Grace's choice,
understanding the raw pain that came from being left out.

When he had chugged down the last of his milk, Mulder rinsed out the glass
and put it in the dishwasher, then leaned wearily against the counter.

"I guess you're going to say I shouldn't take this personally."

She gave him a tiny smile and nodded.

"But I do," he whispered. "She. . .she's my little girl. . ."

Scully dropped her eyes, hearing the words he did not say . . . 

she's my little girl, not yours.

He clutched the towel between his hands and squeezed it sharply, unaware
how his words had affected her.

"I'm okay," he said after a minute. "It's just a ride to the mall. . ."

<nothing important> she whispered.

Nothing important.

He was trying to make himself feel better, and in the process, crushing
the joy she felt over Grace's new attitude.

Turning from the kitchen, she went to the door, looking for Grace.

They were on the stoop, Will breathing hard from racing all the way to
their house, but beaming, as if he'd won first prize. Grace was admiring
his bike and squeezing the handle brakes, different from her own bike.

Scully smiled and ruffled Grace's hair.

"Come on, guys, let's go."

She liked hearing their feet running after her.
~~~~

Mulder watched them through the kitchen window, shaking his head at his
feelings, trying to remember that no matter what happened, he was Grace's
father, and nothing would change that.

Scully had said it often enough, she was a Daddy's girl, she adored him.

He smiled and waved as Grace caught his eye; she smiled and said
something, making Scully turn around in the car to see him too.

The look on her face made his breath catch; she looked radiant, so very
happy, so much pride and joy in such a simple thing.

He realized that this was an important thing to her, and he felt all the
more worse for belittling it.

This was a huge step to bringing Grace and her mother closer together, and
there he was, hurting over the joy of this moment.

He gave Scully a grin and flashed her a thumbs up, causing such a
beautiful smile to light up her face that he couldn't help but want to
give her these moments forever.

The car eased down the drive and disappeared from his sight faster than he
liked, causing an uneasy feeling to settle in his stomach.

Going to the fridge, Mulder grabbed the milk again, forgetting his glass
and drinking straight from the carton.

When he was worried, his bachelor habits came back full force, like a
signal of danger.
~~~~
~~~~

"They would tell you that I owe you 
More than I could ever pay
Here's someone who really loves you
Don't ever go away
That's what these walls would say."
--"If These Walls Could Speak," Amy Grant

~~~~

The crowd in the mall was sparse, the people shopping had a specific
purposes, their walks quick and dignified. The skylights let in a
wonderful sun, with a brightness that glittered the specks of grey in the
tiled floor.

Scully led the kids in, pushing open the doors with a smile, watching as
Will and Grace talked about the carousel, and the horse with the fire-mane
and flared nostrils.

She knew that her daughter was mature for a little girl, and she assumed
that was why Will even talked to her, seeing that sense of intelligence in
her eyes.

They ran for the large carousel, getting in line as they pulled out money,
a few dollars Scully had already given to them.

Will and Grace got to the front of the line, and a stream of kids ran out
onto the platform, dodging to get their favorites, Scully trailing behind.

When she got to the horse, Grace was astride it again, but Will was
sitting behind her, both of them grinning. Grace was leaning to the side,
her hand on the horse next to her, saving it for her mother.

"Hurry Momma!" she yelled, grinning.

Scully got on the horse, a beautiful one with roses in it's mane, like
fire, and its white flanks glistening with varnish. She smiled, feeling a
funny thrill surge through her; Scully had always loved the horse with the
roses.

"Whee!" Grace yelled, making Will laugh and Scully chuckle as the ride
started up.
~~~~

The ice cream dribbled down his chin, and Scully automatically reached
over and wiped it clean, giving Will a smile. The Dairy Queen in the mall
had a few tables in the food court where they were now sitting, after the
carousel ride had ended.

Scully watched the boy blush, then smile shyly at her, glancing quickly to
Grace.

"Can we see a movie, Momma?" Grace said, pointing to the Malco theatre,
with its marquis displaying four movies in stadium seating.

"Maybe. Which movie?"

"The bug movie!" Grace yelled.

Scully looked to Will, seeing so much Mulder in his quiet eyes and willing
face that she felt a shudder pass through her.

"Which movie would you like to see, Will?"

"That's a good one. I haven't seen it yet."

Scully looked at her watch and noted the time, then nodded. "Well, baby,
let me go call your daddy and see if he wants to come. All right?"

Grace nodded and she stood to make her way to the pay phones, confident
that if the two kids stayed where she could see them, it was okay to leave
them.

She picked up the receiver and deposited the quarter and dime with ease,
berating herself for not taking her cell phone with her.

Looking back to their table, she saw Will and Grace talking excitedly,
their eyes flashing.

"'Lo?"

"Mm, Mulder, it's me."

"Are you okay?"

"Fine. Grace and Will want to see the bug movie. You want to come up here
and watch it with us?"

She heard him pause, then breathe softly. "No. No, this is your time,
Scully. Go ahead."

She smiled and waved to Gracie, who was standing up in her chair.

"Thanks, Mulder," she said, shooting Grace a look, telling her with a
glance to get down.

Grace dropped to her knees as Mulder said bye, and she hung up.
~~~~

Mulder felt an ache in his gut that he couldn't get rid of, and when the
storm clouds rolled in over their neighborhood, he felt even worse, that
same sick emptiness in him when he'd come home to find Scully bleeding on
the floor.

He shrugged off his hesitancy and ran out to his car, pulling his seatbelt
fast over him and then backing down the driveway.

He would just be there when they got out of the movie, be there to see
them alive, and calm his irrational fears.
~~~~

It was halfway through when the movie reel jerked, then stopped, and the
lights didn't come back on. A groan went up from the kids in the audience,
and Scully glanced around, looking back to the projector's window.

She saw shadows darting across and hoped they'd have the problem fixed
quickly.

Only about thirty people were in the audience, seeing as it was a
Wednesday evening, only six o'clock, and no one really wanted to see the
bug movie but kids.

She licked her lips and settled Grace back in her seat, suggesting that
she and Will play twenty questions.

The lights came on and Scully looked back to the projector window, but
just then, a loud crash echoed through the theatre and twenty men burst
in.

Scully instinctively moved toward Grace and Will, watching as the  men
waved black rifles around, an anxiousness in their eyes that gave her a
sinking feeling.

They were too nervouse, to high strung; someone was going to die.

Two men yelled for everyone to get on their knees, and Scully pushed Grace
and Will down, putting her body between them and the men, offering a quick
prayer.

She looked up and saw the masked men pull out spray cans, gas masks
quickly coming over their faces. Her breath stopped and a sinking feeling
ripped down her stomach as she watched them.

A case from seven years before came flitting through her mind, men Mulder
had penetrated as they spread a horrible, government made disease through
the air. They'd struck a theatre, and Mulder had been with them in a bank,
coming to understand that they'd contaminated money.

She shoved Grace and Will further into the center, biting her lip as she
watched the men spray their cans of death in the faces of children and
parents.

Their screams bit into her ears and she winced, feeling sick, feeling
helpless to save them, to save herself, to save Will or Grace.

Closing her eyes, she laid her head on Grace's back, then choked on tears.

"Momma!" Grace was saying, her eyes wide and body shivering.

"Okay, baby. It's okay," she lied and pulled her gun from its holster,
determined to shoot first, ask later.

Will looked at her, sorrow and extreme guilt in his eyes. "This is my
fault," he said, breathing hard. "I shouldn't have even called . . .it's
my fault, all over agian."

Scully didn't have the time to argue, she merely shook her head and
touched his lips, urging him to stay silent.

"We've got to get out of here," she said.

Being on the third row from the front, Scully could see the exit doors
from her crouched position, and the men making their way down the aisle
weren't paying attention.

In fact, they were taking up so much concentration on spraying people,
that Scully felt a strange confidence well in her.

The smell of burning flesh assaulted her then and she retched, gagging on
the air as Grace cried.

Will grabbed her hand and squeezed it hard, making her come back to
herself, causing her to open her eyes.

"Gracie, be quiet." she hissed and reached for her daughter.

"I want Daddy!" she wailed, and Scully had no choice but to pull her
daughter into her stomach, muffling the girl's sobs.

When she was calmer, Scully let go of her, risking a quick glance to the
men.

They were still making their way through the rows of parents further on,
and in the very back, charred bodies were shrivelled like mummies.

"Okay, Gracie, baby, you have to be very quiet," she whispered, giving
Will a panicked look.

Will nodded and took Grace's hand, giving her a smile.

"Now, you two are going to crawl out of from behind these chairs and over
to the exit. See that door?"

Grace looked at it in tears, nodding and sniffling, finding her courage.

"Okay, love, I'm going to be coming behind you. But *do not* look back.
Don't stop, don't come back. Go right on through and look for a police
man, or an adult. You understand?"

Grace looked at her mother in horror. "You're coming aren't you?"

Scully smiled softly. "Of course," she lied, and kissed Grace's cheek.
"I'll be there."

Grace glanced to Will and then back to her mother, hearing the hiss of
spray cans and the gurgles of the dead and dying.

"Okay, we keep going."

Scully nodded and pushed her daughter toward the aisle, feeling her heart
thudding painfully in her throat.

"Right, baby. Go on," she whispered, shutting her eyes briefly.

Grace looked back at her, and Scully nodded. "I'll be right behind you."

If this were to work, Scully would have to distract the men with guns
while Will and Grace opened the heavy metal exit door.

Grace kissed her mother in a rush, then took Will's hand and began
crawling for the exit, her tears mixing with her fear and running in
rivers down her cheeks.

Scully stood slowly, once they were out of sight of the men, and fired her
weapon.

In unison, the twenty men turned, reacted to the bullets whizzing at them,
and opened fire.
~~~~

The police cars lined along the sidewalk made him run, and he had to use
his FBI badge to skirt past them, and on into the mall. He found a few
officers puzzling over the distorted remains of a human at the ticket
window, and he wanted to throw up.

Leaning heavily against the glass, he caught his breath, squeezing shut
his eyes and pounding his fist into the side wall.

He heard gunshots and he knew, knew, it was her.

God, no. . .
~~~~

Grace was running towards him, screaming for him, her body bloody, her
gait limping.

Mulder pulled her into his arms, pausing long enough to see that no one
was behind her, then ran for the paramedices, screaming for help just as
Grace sobbed in choked, gurgling noises in his arms.

As she was taken to the ambulance, the medics looked after her gunshot
wound, plugging her chest to stop the bleeding, and Mulder stroked her
hair, trying not to cry.

She looked at him, tears in her eyes, her words coming in a gasp.

"She promised to be right behind me. . .she promised."

Mulder buried his head in Grace's stretcher, closing his eyes.
~~~~
~~~~

"Unselfish in her suffering
she could not understand
that no one seemed to have the time
to cherish what is offered
and I would be the last to know
and I would be the last to let it show
and I would be the last to go."
--"Mary" Sarah McLachlan

~~~~

It was a train barreling into her at full speed, a smack of fire and steel
that knocked her to the ground.

And yet she kept on shooting.

Her fingers were frozen to her weapon, the bullets rattling from the gun
like her breath in her chest, hollow and empty and finding no target.

She couldn't move, couldn't watch.

Her eyes stared fixedly at the dull yellow house lights, until her body
slumped from the back of the second row and to the floor, a heap of blood
and death.

Just as blackness closed, she saw the exit door slam shut. . .
~~~~

When the men ran from the theatre, the entire police force began shooting,
their bullets tried and true, taking them out one by one.

Mulder shot with cold grief, his aim steady, his gun emptied when it was
over.

Walking inside the lone theatre, he let the officers swarm around him,
watching instead the hunkered remains of children and women and men, their
death screams cut short as the horrible disease had entered them.

Like acid.

A suicide run . . . nothing more.

And the men had known that, had taken every last perverse joy in killing,
knowing that they too would soon be dead.

Maybe they'd been told to do it for their country, maybe they were like
the terrorists he'd infiltrated before.

Mulder walked slowly down the aisle, seeing a commotion at the front, then
a brown head pop up from behind the rows, hair matted with dark crimson
blood.

He ran.
~~~~

She was barely breathing, her blood trickling from her slowly, Will's
hands stained with it, his clothes soaked in it, his hair drenched in it.

He'd come back.

Grace had run, just as her mother had said, but Will had come back, come
back to save Scully's life.

Mulder dropped to his knees as paramedics rushed in, crushed the child in
his arms, weeping.

Then he took Scully's hand softly in his, wiping blood and tears from his
face, watching her eyes flicker.

He was amazed.

She should be weaker, should be unconscious. . .all that blood.

"Scully?"

She said nothing, couldn't talk for the mask being placed over her nose
and mouth, but her fingers twitched and her eyes rolled back.

Mulder moved to let the paramedics through, following behind, Will's
shoulders clutched in his hands.

He rode with Scully, since Grace's ambulance had sped off thirty minutes
ago, with his daughter asleep in the back, the wound from a bullet graze
under control. He held Will in his lap, hugging the boy tightly, eyes
closed.

All that blood. . .
~~~~

Will's mother was nodding, biting her lip as she looked at her son,
Mulder's anger apparent.

He knew he was directing it at the wrong person, knew it was really his
own helplessness that was coming out, but he didn't and couldn't stop.

"Your son has been to the emergency room more times that *I* have, Mrs.
Miller, and I'm an FBI agent. That's horrid."

She shook her head, eyes casting about for relief.

"Don't you see what's going on? He isn't really falling down the stairs,
he isn't really getting hit with the baseball. You've got the power to
stop this," Mulde said quietly, looking over at where Will sat, eyes
locked on the room Grace was in.

"Why don't you stick to looking after your own family, Mr. Mulder? You
seem to be having enough trouble that you ought not to be sticking your
nose in *my* business."

Mulder pushed back, then stormed away, hearing Will's child feet echo
after his.

Then his small hand pushed into Mulder's, causing him to look down.

"This is my fault. If I hadn't called, we wouldn't have been there. Let me
stay with you," he said, eyes pleading.

Mulder got down on his knees next to the boy, holding both his hands in a
gentle clasp.

"This isn't your fault, Will. I don't care what you father says to you, I
don't care what your mother says. This wasn't your fault."

He looked back at Mulder, and in those eyes, he saw reflections of his own
life, mirrors of pain and hurt and sorrow.

"Let me stay," he said again.

Mulder nodded. "Go ask your mother."
~~~~

The room was cold, he thought, but he made no move to call a nurse. He sat
in the chair, head buried in his hands, waiting.

Scully's chest moved with obvious struggle, but she wasn't on the
respirator anymore, in fact, she and Grace had gone off of it the same
time.

He felt a dim hope glowering in the far recesses of his mind.

She was slack like a rag doll, her eyes sunken, limbs heavy. Mulder was
alone in her room, Mrs. Scully watching over Grace in the pediatric wing
as he had this moment alone.

In a few hours they would switch vigils, Mulder meeting her halfway,
hating those few minutes when his women were alone.

He almost felt that if he didn't watch them, they'd slip away.

It was hell, waiting.

It was trying to find an answer to questions he didn't have; Mulder hadn't
even found a way to blame himself, he was so busy trying to keep Will from
the same.

Grace kept asking for her mother, every time she woke and could muster the
energy to speak, a far cry from the expressive five year old she normally
was. It broke his heart to tell her that her mother was stil asleep, was
still hovering.

In a fit of frustration, Mulder moved to sit on her bed, taking her pale
hand between his, rubbing her fingers.

"Scully. . .come on, G-woman, wake up for me." 

He leaned in and kissed her, lips gentle along her bruised cheeks.

The silence ate away at him.

"Scully. . .Scully, we need you. . .please, please, just wake up."

There was nothing except the steady rise of her chest and the beeping of
the heart moniter.
~~~~

Margaret Scully walked into her daughter and granddaughter's hospital
room, her tennis shoes making no noise, eyes slipping over the two
patients and coming to rest on Mulder.

He was slumped in a chair between the two beds, one hand in Dana's, the
other on Grace's arm.

The boy was curled up at the foot of Grace's bed, his hair falling in his
eyes, breathing heavy and deep, dreams haunting him.

Margaret glanced at him closely, marvelling once again at the amazing
likeness between Will and Mulder, with the same long noses, thick lips,
and little boy innocence.

She sat once more in her chair, placed beside her daughter's bed, thankful
to the doctors who had allowed the girls to be put together, once Dana had
made it out of ICU.

Glancing out the window, she gazed at the full yellow moon, a sigh
escaping her lips.

Dana had fought in the hospital, beneath two surgeries and a surprise
infection, fought and managed to stay alive.

Mulder's earlier run in with the knife, and his week in the hospital while
they were all wary of blood posioning, was nothing compared to the month
long trial of Dana's fight for life and Gracie's waning health.

It was heart wrenching, how connected Grace's own recovery was to her
mother's. During the long week of touch and go, Grace had been put on a
respirator, her breathing regulated by a machine. The doctors said it was
psychosomatic, a product of the girl's mind, the shock and grief over not
having her mother there, of the last moments before the shots had been
fired.

She'd been counselled, and Mulder had talked with her often, but she
wanted her mother, and nothing else could change that.

It made him sick, and it was tearing him apart, watching his daughter slip
into depression and his wife slip further into coma.

The three bullets that had punctured one lung, shattered her lower ribs,
and tore through her intestines had done incredible damage, but she was
healing, was gaining some strength, all due to Will.

Mulder never let the boy out of his sight.

Will's mother had come up, kissing on him and crying, saying what a brave
man he was, but Mulder recognized the fear behind her eyes, the panic
close to the surface.

Will's father did not come.

His mother allowed him to stay in the hospital, in Mulder's care, her
relief so evident that it made Mulder sorrowful. He knew the boy was being
abused at home, had seen the scars on his back and on his legs when the
nurse had stripped off his bloodied clothes and bandaged the slice along
his stomach. 

Mulder could understand that; even though his own father hadn't hit him
regularly, there'd been instances, and enough verbal and mental abuse to
last a thousand lifetimes.

He tried to show Will gentleness, and the boy seemed to like him, but he
spent most his time curled up on Grace's bed, watching her breathe.

Grace woke just then, and glanced over to her mother, her eyes dull and
lifeless, her limbs motionless.

She slowly looked to her father, then sighed.

"Mommy?" she said hoarsely.

Mulder's mouth jerked and he shook his head, holding back his tears.

"Soon, baby."

She nodded and raised an arm, grasping for his hand. 

Taking his daughter's cool fingers, he kissed her knuckles, then gave her
a hopeful smile.

"How do you feel, sugar?"

"I want Mommy."

"Yeah, I know, Grace. I want Mommy too."

"I left her," she said suddenly, and melted with tears. "I let her get
shot up."

Mulder looked at her, horrified, disgusted with himself for not seeing
this before.

"No, no, baby. She wanted you safe. Momma can take good care of herself,
and she knew she had to get you out. You did exactly what she told you
too, baby, and that was the right thing."

Grace's mouth worried her lower lip and her crocidile tears spilled from
bleary eyes.

"I ran. She said she'd be right behind me. She said she'd follow. Why
wasn't she right behind me?"

Mulder pulled his daughter into his arms, careful not to tangle in the IV
line, and being gentle with her brusied body.

"Oh baby, baby. You did just right. You did just. . .just fine," he
whispered, unable to lie to her, unable to say that her mother was going
to be all right.

He just didn't know.

"When's Momma gonna wake up?" she choked out, fighting off a cough but
wheezing still.

"She's waiting for you to get better," a voice said, and Mulder looked
behind him to see Will.

The boy sidled up next to Grace, then kissed her cheek.

"You're gonna be okay, right Gracie?"

Grace blinked, not sure how to answer. She'd never been asked something
like that before.

"You're like my sister. . ." he said softly and then smiled shyly. "I want
you to get better."

"I. . .I'm gonna be okay," she said back but then looked to her mother. "I
just want Mommy."

Mulder held her closer, pulling Will into their hug, knowing the boy
needed some strength to get him through this too.

In a second, Mrs. Scully had joined them on the bed, stroking Grace's hair
and letting them all cry.
~~~~
~~~~

"Now show me your glory."
--Exodus 33:18

~~~~

The whisper of her breath kept him company in the early morning hours,
until its gentle rhythm and his own exhaustion pulled him to sleep.

In the room, the grey of early dawn washed across the floor, changing
bright white and starched blues into dingy swatches of despair. 

Grace's eyes opened to the predawn and her head moved, eyes catching the
light as her body woke.

She looked to the side, away from the low light, over towards her mother.
Scully's chest rose and fell, her body limp and pale.

A form was standing beside her, hazy and in shadow, eyes dark and deep,
his hand placed on the railing, his face that of a child.

Grace cleared her throat to speak, feeling that she must say something to
him, must get his attention away from her mother.

"Stop...." she cracked out, raising a hand.

The boy's head and the sun rose at that exact moment, causing a blinding
white to sear into her, envelop her with warmth.

Grace closed her eyes and reached out, hoping to catch hold of her mother,
cling to her father.

A gentle hand touched hers and her eyes flew open, watching him hover
beside her, bright and shining.

"Don't be afraid," he whispered and kissed her forehead.

His face came closer to hers and she saw it was Will, shining and
shimmering.

She coughed and felt her chest ease, the tightness leaving, her hands
warmed and heavy.

"Who are you really?" she whispered, watching this boy, Will, touch her
face with tenderness.

"It is enough that I'm here," he said and then moved away, back to the
shadows, invisible at once, no longer a form, but a breath that whispered
along her body.

The room dimmed and Grace looked back out the window, seeing that the sun
was laboring up the sky, just as bright as always.

She trembled and looked over to her mother, watching the easy breaths, the
color to her cheeks, the blood flowing in her fingers.

And she wasn't afraid anymore.

She wasn't afraid.
~~~~

Mulder shuffled back in the room, the hot coffee burning his tongue as it
sloshed over the rim, numbing his taste buds.

Margaret Scully smiled at him and glanced to Dana, waving her hand over
the woman's body.

"She looks so much better, doesn't she Fox?"

Mulder nodded and blinked, noticing the warmth in Scully's face, the way
she looked as if she were only asleep, not locked deep within herself.

"She. . .she does."

Mrs. Scully smiled and took the extra cup from his hand, sipping it with
gentle movements, blowing on it when it proved to be too hot.

Mulder looked over to Grace and found that his daughter seemed better too,
seemed more alive than he'd seen her in a long time.

The bond between his wife and child was inexplainable to him, how such a
thing could come about, how so close in mind and body they could be, and
yet be so distant.

He knew he had that special attachment with Scully; he had felt her fall
to the floor when the baby had been lost, and he had that same gnawing in
his stomach this last time, as she was trapped in a theatre fighting to
stay alive.

But Grace's health and well being seemed linked irreversibly to her
mother.

He realized that every time Scully had taken a turn for the worse, Grace
had done the same, and it went further back than that.

"Fox. . .they both seem so much better." Mrs. Scully said, breaking him
from his thoughts.

"They've always been linked. . ." he said.

Margaret looked at him with raised eyebrows, a frown gracing her stoic
face.

"Do you remember when Scully got that bacterial infection in her lungs,
when Grace was about six months?"

Mrs. Scully smiled softly. "Yes. She was so upset, because she had to be
put on antibiotics, and she couldn't breastfeed Gracie anymore."

Mulder nodded. "Well, Gracie. . .she'd gotten formula a few times before,
and she'd defintely had a bottle, but she just wouldn't take it that time.
She wouldn't eat. . .she scared us to death. I would hold her and beg her
to just drink it. . .she would scream and I would put the bottle in her
mouth and she'd choke on the formula, refuse to drink it."

Mrs. Scully turned to look at Grace, asleep in the bed. "I didn't know
that."

"Well, that was just for the first few days. Scully was really sick and I
didn't want to bother her. The medicine hadn't kicked in then, and she was
miserable. But she heard Grace crying and came in to her bedroom, taking
the bottle from me and then Grace, holding her. Grace just quieted and
settled down, and started in on that bottle, starving no doubt. . ."

"Mother's touch. . ."

Mulder shook his head. "I . . .I don't think it was just that. Scully said
she could feel Grace crying right in her bones. . .she'd been asleep
before. And when Scully got worse, later on, Grace didn't sleep through
the night for a week. I think they're attuned to each other. I think. . .I
think it's amazing."

Mrs. Scully patted his back and said nothing; he could tell she didn't
quite buy into his entire theory, but she knew what he meant, and that he
was trying to build himself up with hope.

He just couldn't lose both of them.
~~~~

Will and Grace were on the floor, playing cards or some version of a game,
her IV line allowed to be removed, so she could move around.

Grace seemed almost happy, her melancholy lifted from her face, her
talkative nature reasserting itself.

Will was watching everyone from the corner of his eye, and Grace was
watching him, as if she expected something to happen.

Mulder looked hopefully to Scully, wishing.
~~~~
~~~~

There was a healing touch, like fire and heat searing through her, but
instead of burning, it was cool, a refreshing force of life that reached
into her body and shook it free of the cold chill of death.

She felt the water break over her head and the waves be boiled away, the
fire before her steaming as it drifted across the water.

A path was being made for her, an easy route of dry land that beckoned to
her like sirens.

She stepped out, onto the rocks, felt the pull of the water sucking her
down, but a steadying hand guiding her.

Looking down to her side, she found Grace, smiling and leading her
forward, pushing her through the puddles, helping her skip over the eddies
still there.

The fire burned before them, around them, throughout them, but it did not
consume them.

In the midst of its flames, she thought she saw a shifting face, brown
hair and deep deep eyes, a child.

A child so much like Mulder. . .

She was walking for the shore. . .breathing fresh air again.
~~~~

Grace was smiling in her sleep, and when Mulder looked over, so was
Scully.

He grinned and moved closer to his wife, watching her eyelids flicker, her
breath move in whispers along her lips.

He picked up her hand and stroked the web of skin between her thumb and
finger. 

She shifted in the bed, her head moving, her eyes turning under her lids,
mouth now parted.

It was the most movement she had made in the past month, as if she were
struggling to come to consciousness with more force than before.

He glanced back to Grace, saw her movements mimic her mother's, her
eyelids suddenly coming open.

He jerked back to Scully, waiting, praying that this was the moment, she
would wake up now.

Grace pushed herself out of bed, then moved to where her father sat,
climbing up on the bed with him, then keeping watch.

He felt Will come beside him, touch his shoulder, then sit next to Grace
on the bed.

Scully's eyes flickered open, then shut again, and her mother pushed
closer to the bed in her chair, hardly breathing.

Her eyes moved again, the struggle to come back more forceful, her arms
almost thrashing.

Mulder leaned in and touched her forehead, pushing away the hair falling
in her face. He stroked her cheek and kissed her nose, whispering her
name.

"Scully, Scully," he said, and smoothed his hands down her face, along her
neck.

The room went still, his breath caught, a kind of hovering silence
permeated the air.

Will reached out and touched her hand.

A breath whispered from her lips and she opened her eyes.

"Mul. . ."

"Hey, beautiful."

Her eyes slipped shut and she licked her lips, wincing, then clutching his
hand with hers.

"Mulder. . ."

He smiled broadly, laughing, watching her head move on the pillow, her
hair lank and haloing her red cheeks.

She opened her eyes again and their sharp blue shone like moons, piercing
his darkness and burning away the haze of his despair.

"Scully," he breathed and leaned down to kiss her gently.

She looked at the faces peering over her, eyes sweeping over Grace and
Will. Reaching out, she grabbed their hands and smiled.

"You're okay," she whispered, throat hoarse and tongue thick.

Grace nodded and leaned down to kiss her mother, snuggling into her side
and sighing.

"I missed you Mommy," she whispered.

Scully expelled a long breath and closed her eyes, moving her arms to
encircle Grace.

"Missed you too, baby."

Mulder's hand drifted along her thigh, rubbing her skin through the sheet,
watching her with Grace.

"How long. . ." she said, clearing her throat with a cough.

He bit his lip and gave her a tired smile.

"Too long. . . .about a month."

The tears shimmered in his eyes and she reached out a hand to him, letting
him fall into her body, face buried in her neck, Grace on one side, Mulder
on the other.

Will hung back, perched on the edge of the bed and she smiled at him as
her mother leaned in to give her a huge hug.

Then the boy got down from the bed, his hair brown and wavy, almost like
tongues of fire, licking at his head.

He moved to the door and smiled, then walked away.

Scully wondered if she would ever see him again.
~~~~

end
adios
RM