Melting Hearts Domestic Bliss

by Anna Greenway

Companion piece to Melting Hearts. See opening note.

1. Chapter 1

This story is a companion piece to Melting Hearts. I apolgoise again to those who were disappointed I had to abandon the previous attempt, yet it just wasn't working, and I think it will work far better in this format - each chapter being a separate short story and snapshot of their ongoing lives. Rest assured I have vowed that no chapter will be posted unless finished, and so as they all essentially stand alone, you won't be burned this time. I hope some of my readers are still with me, and perhaps still interested in this world and story. If not, well I enjoyed it anyway!

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Melting Hearts - Domestic Bliss

CHAPTER ONE - LILY

"DADDY!"

Dropping his work bag to the floor with a dull thud, John steeled himself as his daughter Lily pelted toward him and leapt into his arms. At two and a half, she was still pretty light, and at a nice age when she was still young enough to adore him, and old enough that she had been toilet trained for a full three months now. She grinned and giggled, her brown hair bouncing as he swung her around and then pecked her neatly on the lips. He felt a rush of love as he looked into his daughter's eyes, which were the identical smiling blue of his own. Her brown hair made her look a lot like Monica, and she was as gentle as Monica, but in there too he recognised himself, and a little bit of Christi.

"Did ya miss me?"

She nodded enthusiastically and clung to him all the tighter. He kissed her again as he carried her through to Christi and Charlie's living room where the rest of the family were gathered. Scully was not yet home from where she taught at the Medical School, but the rest of the family were there: Anne and Jack helping out with preparing the meal, the table covered in platters of meat and salads, Christi moving around fetching herself a drink whilst balancing baby Lachlan to her exposed breast as he fed hungrily, Charlie clinking handfuls of cutlery as he emptied the drawer, Deirdre calmly leaning against the bench with a mug of tea, and Mulder over in the kids' play area, head sticking out the window of the girls' plastic cubbyhouse, a folded newspaper pirate hat jauntily stuck on his head.

"Ahoy there!" he called, nodding to John. John couldn't help smiling with amusement.

Mulder's head left the window as Chloe leapt on top of him. She was Charlie and Christi's middle child, a gorgeous kid with fluffy blonde hair and blue eyes - a near clone of her mother. She was still in diapers, but she was the fastest and cheekiest of all the five kids, and had a permanent mischievous grin on her face that was second to none, and made Christi and Charlie keep one eye tracked on her at all times like clowns at a fair.

On the bright blue fuzzy play rug sat John's own son Nathan, only six months old yet watching the play with a sloppy smile.

John set down Lily on the floor as they reached the kitchen, and she trotted over to join the fun whilst another girl disentangled herself from Mulder, and looking tired, drifted over to Christi. Catherine was three years old now, had the Scully family red hair, an intelligence that far surpassed her age, and an adoration of Scully that was yet to show any sign of dimming. Catherine was Christi and Charlie's eldest daughter, yet to John it often seemed as there was an invisible umbilical cord between Scully and Catherine. From the moment she could walk Catherine had followed Scully around like a shadow, and Mulder had christened her Scully's "Mini Me".

"What's the matter, hmm?"

Christi ran her free hand through Catherine's red hair, sweeping it back as she buried her tired face into Christi's side.

"When's Aunt Dana getting home?" Catherine asked, in a voice barely loud enough for John to hear.

"Soon," John answered. "I rang her just as she was leavin'. She can't be far behind me."

He did not explain why he had called her, and nor did the family ask, though Deirdre was watching him closely as she finished her tea. All four of the survivors called each other frequently during the day, and even though Scully worked at the Medical School and only one half day at the Bureau as a Medical Doctor, they were in constant contact. It was a mark of their ongoing Post-Traumatic Stress that they needed to hear each other's voices, and when the memories so often soared unwelcome into their minds it was a relief to speak to someone who had also been there, who knew how it felt to shoulder the struggle of making it to the end of every day.

And as if by ESP, at that moment Mulder and Monica both appeared, Mulder dusting himself off and straightening his work suit as he left Lily and Chloe to play together, and Monica emerging from the glass sliding door that led to the patio and the gate in the fence which connected to their own house next door.

"Hey," he said, smiling as he saw her. She did not return the smile, wearily removing her reading glasses and rubbing her eyes. Her eyes passed over their son on the rug, and their daughter giggling from within the cubbyhouse, but she did not manage a smile as she came to join them.

"You okay?"

"Big Foot, Boogeyman or Abominable Snowman?" Mulder asked, removing his pirate hat and placing it on Catherine's head.

"Snowman," Monica replied.

John drew her into his arms. He understood perfectly the cryptic language in which Mulder and Monica spoke, and knew it was due to the kids that neither of them were more explicit. But the Snowman meant Monica was thinking of the mountains, trapped by the memories just as much as they had been trapped by the avalanche those four years ago. He knew the feeling well. In his own head there were images he couldn't shake, and the best remedy for him was to keep busy - working as a Health & Wellbeing Officer at the FBI field office, working out at the gym, and playing with the kids. The same remedy had worked for Scully, who worked a full time schedule now between the Medical School and FBI, and often wasn't home til late at night. Mulder, whilst he worked part time at the FBI as a profiler, had found a love for life in the five kids, and never grew tired of joining in their games, making them laugh, taking them for walks to the local park and generally spoiling them rotten in any way he could think of. The fact that none of them were his own did not matter - as the family setup was very much a team parenting arrangement.

"I need a word," Monica said.

John nodded and followed her, Mulder coming with them as Monica tugged on his sleeve, and the three of them made their way back through the sliding doors to the warm night of September outside. They sat down in the green outdoor furniture on Christi's patio, Monica sinking into it with a look of exhaustion, her hands immediately falling over her face as though trying to wipe away the unpleasant experience. Through the windows John could see Catherine looking at them, studying them with an intelligent gaze she seemed to mimic off her aunt. A moment later Anne beckoned her over, putting a stack of plates into her hands and asking her help in setting the table. In the cubbyhouse Lily and Chloe played on, oblivious to the rest of the family, and Nathan gurgled happily on the rug, now having Jack's full attention, while Lachlan still suckled in Christi's arms.

But now she had John and Mulder alone, Monica seemed at a loss for anything to say. John automatically slid his arm around her and felt her tense muscles under his palm.

"How bad?" he asked.

Again, she did not answer, but as she looked at him a frightening dark shadow passed through her eyes. John tightened his arm and all of a sudden felt a reverberation of the panic he had felt four years ago in Washington. The scars were still visible on Monica's left wrist, and the scars in his own mind would never heal. Mulder shifted his own chair closer and wrapped a strong hand around hers. His worried eyes studied her expression closely.

"Out of ten?" Mulder asked quietly.

"Two," Monica confessed.

This system of rating their depression out of ten had become habit, and an easy way for the four of them to communicate their level of depression. One was suicidal, and ten was normal. Monica's rating of two was not unheard of, as she sank low fairly frequently, and more so since the birth of Nathan had brought on some post-natal depression. They were fortunate in that having a large family around enabled her to have plenty of help with the two kids, and Anne and Jack were always ready and willing to assist. Yet Monica's depression lingered, and no amount of counselling could eradicate it completely.

A flicker of red passed through John's peripheral vision and he turned to see Scully entering through the gate in the fence. She looked slightly flustered, as though she had lived the day at a hundred mile an hour, and only now was her world starting to stop spinning now that she had arrived home.

"Catherine!"

A disciplinary call rang out from inside, and John looked to see Catherine standing with her hand on the sliding door handle, ready to fling it open now that Scully was home. But she stopped as Christi called out. Wordlessly Catherine pointed in Scully's direction, but Christi shook her head.

"Stay inside," Deirdre echoed, giving her great niece a firm look.

The sight of Catherine standing hopefully at the door brought a warm smile to Scully's face, and she threw her niece an affectionate wink as she made her way over to them. As soon as Catherine turned away and heeded Christi's instructions to leave them alone, Scully's smile vanished as she looked at Monica with something bordering on alarm.

Darkness fell as Deirdre drew the blinds across the windows, giving them privacy from the five kids.

"Two out of ten," Mulder summarised for her. "Weather radar's showing snowstorms."

Scully clasped her hands between her knees as she studied Monica's appearance with a doctor's eye.

"Have you been taking your medication?"

Monica nodded wearily.

"Twice a day," John supplied. He had made sure of that, as she often did for him during his own down times.

"I think we need to get it reviewed," Mulder added.

Scully nodded, but her attention was still entirely focused on Monica.

"Do you need to speak to Deirdre? Or Anne?"

Monica shook her head. John knew the feeling. There were only so many times they could skate over the same topics with Deirdre. They had each spent hundreds of hours with her, going over all their memories and troubles again and again, and she had implemented every strategy she knew. But there was no magical cure, and many times they did not have the energy to talk about it yet again, only wanting to sit in safe company until it went away.

"Do you need a doctor?"

"To do what?" Monica countered, looking helplessly at her friend.

"Get emergency treatment," Scully said professionally. "We can take you to hospital. If you think there's any danger of -"

"There's not," Monica said. She looked hard into Scully's eyes.

After a second of uncomfortable silence, John resumed roaming his hand over Monica's back.

Mulder, however, was staring at Monica's hands.

"Do you realise you're doing that?" he asked softly.

John followed Mulder's look and saw Monica subconsciously rubbing her right hand over her left wrist. Her skin was red from the friction and her scar stood out distinctly. A glance into Scully's eyes told him she had also noticed the behaviour. John took Monica's right hand and encased it in his own.

Monica looked puzzled. She had evidently not noticed the behaviour.

Scully sighed. "Monica ..."

"It's just a bad day," Monica said, recovering. "It happens all the time. You know what it's like."

There was another long pause in which a shadow of Scully's own pain passed through her eyes. After a moment she reached forward and laid her hand on Monica's knee, rubbing softly. John tightened his arm around Monica's shoulders.

"You just stick with us," John told her. "Take it easy tonight. We'll look after the kids."

And after another moment Monica leaned sideways into him, and he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her hair.

XXX

In the pitch darkness of her bedroom, Lily lay in bed, eyes peering over the top of her covers. She desperately needed to go to the bathroom. Her Mommy usually made her go before bedtime, but her Mommy had been weird tonight. There had been no bright smile, no big cuddle, no kiss on her lips. Instead Aunt Dana had carried her to bed. Aunt Dana's hugs were nice too, but she had not taken her to the bathroom.

The shadows in the room were frightening, but with a little help from a glow around the curtain she could see the door to the hallway. The bathroom was just opposite. She debated it for a long while before she got the courage to leave her cosy bed. Then she silently slipped her small feet to the soft carpet and tiptoed to the door, reaching up to heave it open.

She stopped when she saw the bathroom light on under the door. She glanced to her Mommy and Daddy's bedroom but the door was closed and dark. Not thinking anything of it, Lily reached up and grabbed the handle with both hands, twisting it and pushing it open.

Then she screamed.

XXX

"Jesus!"

In their own home, Scully bolted upright in bed as a terrifying scream ripped through the silent neighborhood. Beside her Mulder also flew up. The scream was from a young girl, and went on and on, piercing Scully's ears like someone had hit the repeat button of a stereo.

Frantically Scully threw back the covers, and in one movement swiped up her keys and jammed her bare feet into some sneakers. Beside her Mulder was doing the same.

"It sounds close," Mulder said, panicked and hurrying to the door. "One of ours -"

Scully was too terrified to reply, and threw open the bedroom door, sprinting to the stairs with Mulder at her side, both of them thundering down to the lower level. With no time to even turn on lights, she led the way to the rear door, undoing the latch and crashing it open so the cool night air hit her face. At the same time Anne and Jack came dashing through from the gate which led to their house, both white with terror and in pyjamas and bare feet as the scream continued to shriek across the neighborhood.

"Shit! Scully it's -"

"Lily," Scully finished, already bolting for the gate in the fence. As she glanced up at Monica and John's dark house next door, the upstairs lights came on. A split second later they came on in Christi and Charlie's house.

The strength and terror of the scream tore through Scully's heart, and she yanked open the side gate and the four of them bolted through Monica and John's backyard to the rear door, where they were momentarily held up as Scully searched her keys. As she jammed it into the lock they were joined by Christi and Charlie sprinting through their own side gate, Christi in a skimpy satin nightie, and her blonde hair flying.

"LILY!"

Scully yelled her name, but the scream did not cease as they entered the dark house. Jack flicked on the light and as one they headed for the stairs.

"JOHN!" Christi called.

"MONICA!" Mulder yelled.

They repeated the names as they flew up the stairs, Scully in the lead. She ran to the bathroom door, which was wide open and in a split second took in the terrifying sight which met her eyes: Monica was slumped in the bath in a black nightie, and blood was running in streaks around her left wrist. John was leaning over the bath, one hand in Monica's hair, the other in mid-air and not daring to touch the blood. And standing next to the door was Lily, still screaming her lungs out, her blue eyes wide and utterly petrified.

Immediately Scully sprinted to the bath and took control, ripping a white towel from the rack and pushing up her sleeves.

"Get an ambulance!"

Mulder bolted out of the room. John suddenly seemed to catch sight of his screaming daughter.

"Get out of here!" he threw at her.

Lily continued to scream, rooted to the spot. Anne peeled off the crowd and went to her, scooping her up in her arms. Scully saw a puddle of urine where Lily was standing.

"Shhh ... it's okay, honey ... shhh ..."

Scully wrapped Monica's wrist in the towel and held it above the height of her heart. The cut was not deep, and seemed to have more intention to wound and release pain rather than commit suicide.

The next few minutes passed in agony for everyone. Monica was not with it, though she was conscious she was in a deep depression and ignoring them. John perched on the edge of the bath, trying to comfort and be of help but really only getting in Scully's way, Charlie hovered beside them looking helpless, Christi peeled off as Nathan had woke at his sister's screaming and was now wailing at the top of his tiny lungs, and Anne carried the hysterical Lily from the room as Jack was left to use a towel to soak up the puddle on the floor and stop it spreading. Eventually Scully heard sirens and Mulder's voice downstairs as he let in the paramedics.

"Hang in there," she told Monica, comforting her as best she could.

John stood up to let the paramedics in.

"Can you take the kids?" he asked Jack, and without waiting for a reply hurried out of the room to grab some clothes for the trip to hospital.

XXX

It all happened so fast Anne barely had time to think until suddenly the house was nearly empty. John, Mulder and Scully had all thrown on clothes and dashed to the hospital, no doubt taking the residential roads like a formula one racecourse. Charlie, frightened by the sheer panic the three were exhibiting went after them, and Anne had sent Jack along too, with a silent agreement that he would look after the kids, and her the grandkids. The only one left with her was Christi, who was pacing the upstairs hallway with Nathan against her shoulder, as Anne stood in the doorway of Lily's room with Lily still crying hysterically in her arms. The unpleasant stench of urine wafted up her nostrils from Lily's soiled pyjamas.

"It's okay honey ... it's all right ..."

She repeated the line over and over, but it did no good as Lily was beyond all reason and control. Anne felt tears welling up behind her eyes as she struggled to take in everything that had just happened.

"Mom?"

A small voice caught Anne and Christi's attention, and they turned around to see Catherine standing at the top of the stairs, dressed in her own small pyjamas and her red hair ruffled from sleep. Chloe's hand was gripped tight and protectively in hers, as Chloe peered around with a bewildered expression.

"Where's Lockie?" Christi asked. She looked suddenly afraid and Anne knew why. The memory of Luke was in her own mind and she, too, did not want any of their kids left unsupervised.

"Asleep," Catherine said innocently.

Christi quickly moved to place Nathan in Catherine's arms.

"Here - hold your cousin - stay here with Grandma ..."

Christi left to fetch her remaining child and suddenly Anne was alone with the kids. The house was quiet now except for Lily's soft crying as she clung tightly to Anne's torso - so tight that she almost had trouble breathing. Catherine stood silently with Nathan heavy in her arms, awaiting instructions. Chloe hovered nearby, not understanding what was happening and happily swinging her feet without a care in the world.

Anne struggled to pull herself together as she again felt hot tears welling up in her eyes. The thought of Monica was crippling, but she was in good hands now at the hospital. Her priority had to be the kids.

"Come downstairs," Anne said.

She led the group down to the lower level, which was brightly lit, and instructed Catherine to place Nathan in the pusher for the moment. He was quite calm now, no longer fussing and he went down with ease as Catherine expertly covered him with a blanket. Experience with two younger siblings and cousins had not been lost on her.

Anne meanwhile went to the kitchen bench where she grabbed Monica's cell phone from its charger and found Deirdre's number in the contacts list.

It was seven full rings before she answered, and all the while Anne prayed she would pick up, struggling to balance the crying Lily in her arms - who was still clinging so tight it hurt - and at the same time hold the cell phone to her ear.

At last her sister picked up, answering with a sleepy voice.

"Monica?"

"Anne," she corrected, and heard her voice shaking. She struggled to keep it in check, though knew it would not be long.

Suddenly Deirdre sounded fully awake. "What's wrong?"

"Can you come over here?"

"What's the matter? Who's that crying?"

Anne swallowed back her tears. "It's Lily, I ... can you just come? And Carol and Jenny, I - I really need your help."

Over the phone she heard Deirdre moving around, a noise that was perhaps a wardrobe door opening.

"I'm begging you," she added,and heard her voice break again.

"Hold on Anne," Deirdre said. "I'm on my way."

XXX

It was only fifteen minutes before Deirdre arrived, and Carol and David rolled up almost immediately after. Jenny and Brian, who lived an hour out, would be longer, and in the time since her call to Deirdre Anne had begun to regret dragging them out of bed, but then she looked around the room again and was in no doubt of her need for help. Christi had her hands full trying to settle Lachlan, whom she had brought over from her own house, and his fussing had stirred up Nathan. Chloe sat with uncharacteristic obedience, wondering what all the commotion was about, and Catherine hovered at their sides wanting to be of help, but there was nothing she could do. In the time since the phone call Lily had only tightened her grip on Anne's torso, her knees jammed like two iron clamps into Anne's rib cage and her thin arms strangling her neck. The weight on her chest made it hard to breathe, and Anne had initially tried to pry her off in order to change her pyjamas, but it was simply not possible. Lily was absolutely petrified, and refused to loosen her grip by even a fingernail.

"Not so tight, honey," Anne repeated, for what was the thousandth time. But as she made her way to the door Lily only gripped harder, and Anne had a mouthful of her hair.

"Who is it?" she asked, hand on the lock. Luke's murder was never far from her mind.

"Charlie's angels," came Carol's cheery voice. "Open up, Anne."

Anne opened the door, and in came her youngest sister Carol with her husband David, both fully dressed, and then Deirdre, who was wearing her black trench coat over purple pyjamas, her feet in sneakers, and despite her dress looked characteristically calm.

"What happened?" Deirdre asked, casting her eyes around the room and taking in the presence of all five kids, Christi, and the complete absence of everyone else.

"Monica's cutting again," Christi supplied. "They took her in an ambulance to hospital."

Even as she said this, Anne cast an eye over the kids, and as she'd predicted saw Catherine following the conversation with interest, though it was beyond the other four. She immediately gave her companions a silencing look.

"Come on, guys," Christi said to her kids, holding out a hand to Catherine and beckoning to Chloe. "Adventure's over. Let's get you back to bed."

Catherine pointed in protest to Lily. "But -"

"No, bed," Christi said firmly. She balanced her son over her shoulder as she took Catherine's hand. Chloe happily trotted along as Christi led the trio up the stairs to find them a bed.

Anne stood in silence with her sisters and brother-in-law until they had rounded the top of the stairs and disappeared, and then found herself barraged with questions.

"All right, what happened?" Deirdre said quickly.

"How bad was it?" David asked.

"What on Earth's that smell?" Carol added, crinkling her nose and glancing around the room.

"It's Lily," Anne provided, feeling again the difficulty breathing and the clamping of Lily's legs into her ribs. "She found Monica in the bathroom, her screaming woke the entire neighborhood. She wet herself and I can't - I can't get her off ..."

She heard herself rambling quickly as the pain became too much, and thankfully they saw her desperation and in a flash David had moved to help.

"Come on, Lil'," he said, moving to grab her small arms from around Anne's neck. "Give her a breather ..."

David and Deirdre took one arm each, with Carol unhooking Lily's legs, and between the four of them they managed to forcibly pull her away.

"Jesus," Carol said, kneeling down affectionately in front of her great niece and looking at her wet pyjamas. "You had a fright, didn't you, darlin'? Let's find you some dry clothes, eh?"

Anne felt immensely grateful as Carol picked up Lily and without fuss carried her upstairs. After a slight hesitation and a promise to be back in a second, David followed her, taking Nathan with him. Anne did not need to trail after them - Carol had raised five kids of her own. But as the pressure was released from her arms after twenty minutes of having Lily's weight clamped on her, she almost stumbled toward Deirdre, and put a hand on her shoulder to steady her balance as she took a deep breath, rejoicing in the full use of her lungs.

"You all right?" Deirdre asked, arm around her waist.

Anne automatically made her way to the sink, where she leaned over, gripping the bench with both hands to try to stem the waves of pain and budding nausea.

She felt Deirdre's hand on her back. "Are you hurt?"

All of a sudden, without knowing where it came from, the nausea flew up her throat and she lurched forward to vomit into the stainless steel sink. Visions of Monica's bloody wrist flashed through her mind.

"It's okay," Deirdre said, now gripping her tight and reaching to switch the taps on full blast. "It's all right ..."

She tore off a sheet of paper towel and wet it under the running water, dabbing at Anne's hot forehead and cheeks as the nausea passed and she stood up a little.

For a moment she stood in silence, catching her breath as her chest enjoyed the freedom of expansion and contraction. But there remained a throbbing ache in both her sides where Lily's knees had been. She rubbed the spot with her hand, trying to smoothe the pain.

"Are you hurt?" Deirdre asked again, eyes narrowed with concern.

"Just sore," Anne said.

"Let's take a look."

Deirdre was lifting up her pyjama top before Anne had found the words to protest, but after glancing at the stairs and seeing the others weren't in sight, she looked down and peeked with interest at the two long red marks either side of her ribs. She touched one and found it hurt.

"You should ice them," Deirdre said.

"Later," Anne said.

She had just spotted Christi rounding the top of the stairs and hastily pulled her top back down, not wanting her daughter to see. Deirdre gave her a look but did not comment.

"So tell me what happened," Deirdre said, quickly slipping back into her professional role. "What did Lily see?"

"She found Monica in the bath," Christi filled in. "She was screaming non-stop for several minutes. We all woke, ran over here, called an ambulance straightaway ..."

"There was a bit of blood," Anne added. "Lily was terrified. When she eventually stopped screaming she clung to me and wouldn't let go."

"A classic anxiety reaction," Deirdre said, and sighed depressively.

"You can help her though, right?" Christi asked.

Deirdre seemed to hesitate. "Let me take a look at her."

A few minutes later Carol and David emerged carrying Lily down the stairs, dressed for now in an old grey t-shirt of John's which served as a nightie. But as Anne joined everyone at the sofa and Deirdre sat down and pulled the child into her lap, she saw that Lily still looked petrified, her eyes large and anxious, her small hands clasping hard at anyone within reach. Anne sat down next to them and tried to put a comforting arm around her granddaughter's shaking body.

"She's scared out of her wits," Carol said, looking frightened herself. David looked grim.

"I know," Deirdre said, her voice soft and pleasant like a fairytale as she studied the child in her lap. "You had a fright, didn't you? Seeing your Mommy like that ..."

Lily's large, scared eyes locked onto Deirdre.

"But, you know, your Mommy's gonna be all right now. She's gone to the hospital where a nice nurse will clean that up for her, just like your Mommy cleaned your knee when you fell over the other week. And you'll have her back good as new in no time."

As she talked Deirdre peered professionally into her eyes, felt her pulse, and traced her warm hands over Lily's rigid body.

"Go get a blanket," she said to Christi, and Christi hurried back upstairs, quickly returning with the purple bedpsread from Lily's room that had teddy bears printed on it.

"We need to get her to calm down," Deirdre said to them, opening the doona and bundling Lily into it, complete with legs, arms and feet. "You wrap her up snug in it," Deirdre explained, "it makes her feel cosy and safe, like being back in the womb."

Lily did not protest as Deirdre tucked her in, then cuddled her close.

"Hold her firm, not slack, you're her protector, she needs to feel safe, regain the sense of security she's just lost."

Anne nodded along, feeling worried as she watched Lily's fearful face.

"And turn off the lights," she added. "Switch on a lamp instead."

Christi obeyed, switching off the kitchen and living room lights and turning on a small lamp beside the couch they were sitting on. A soft, glow bathed the corner of the room. It was almost like sitting in candlelight in a power outage.

"Now, Lily," Deirdre said seriously, cuddling her tight, "I want you to listen to me. I know you're a smart girl, like your Mom, and that you're going to try your best to understand what I tell you. I know what you saw. I know how scary it was, and how terrified you feel right now. But your Mom's going to be all right, I want you to know that. I know the blood is scary, seeing your Mom upset is scary, but it's all going to be all right. Those nice people at the hospital will take care of her, and she may be gone a few days while they make her better, but in the meantime you have all of us, and we're all right here for you. And you don't need to be afraid. It'll be just like when Nathan was born, and while your Mom was away for a few days you stayed with Aunt Dana and Uncle Mulder, and Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt Christi ... and then your Mom came back smiling, all happy and radiant, and she gave you a big hug and a kiss and told you how much she loved you. Because you know she does love you. So, so much. So it's all going to be fine. But if in the meantime you feel scared, or if you remember what you saw and feel bad, scared and upset, you just stick with us. We're right here to cuddle you."

At that moment Deirdre's cell phone rang. Anne got up to answer it and with a heavy feeling of dread saw it was John.

"Deirdre's phone," she answered.

"Mom?" He sounded puzzled and as if he was speaking through tears. "Deirdre's with you?"

"Yeah, she's here," Anne supplied. Then, trying to tear her eyes away from Lily's terror-stricken face, added, "She's just seeing to some things. How's Monica?"

"They're cleanin' her up," he said, and she thanked her lucky stars that he was too wrecked to question her further. "They reckon she's gonna be fine. Was just a scratch, not deep. They're gonna keep her a while, though, do a psychiatric examination. Rest a few days, they said."

The skeptical note in his voice was evident, and in the background Anne heard Scully say comfortingly, "She'll be fine ..."

"Look, I know it's hard, but just sit tight," Anne said. "It's probably exactly what she needs, a few days' rest with some expert care. Then hopefully we can nip this in the bud and prevent it happening again. If we all remain calm and supportive she'll pull through. Just relax and take one moment at a time. And look after Dana and Mulder."

She heard him sniff a little, wipe his eyes.

"How's Lil'?" he asked suddenly.

Anne looked across the room at the frightened bundle in Deirdre's arms, Christi sitting next to them and stroking her niece's hair lovingly.

"She's fine," Anne lied. "We've got her."

"Tell her I love her," he said quickly. "Look, I gotta go. Doc's comin'."

"All right. I love you."

"Love you too."

Her heart warmed at the sentiment, but it evaporated as soon as she raised her eyes to her family.

"'She's fine?'" David repeated.

"Boy are you gonna cop it when he gets home," Carol joked.

"Shouldn't be for a few hours yet," Anne reasoned. "She'll be fine by then."

She sat back down to help with comforting Lily, and await the arrival of Jenny and Brian while her heart still twisted with worry over Monica, but it wasn't until days later and the benefit of hindsight that she saw there had been significance to Deirdre's silence.

XXX

The following hour passed slower than any other Anne had ever lived. Lily sat silent and terrified in the soft glow of the room, and was passed from one set of arms to another as everyone wanted a turn cuddling her, but it did little good. She had stopped trembling, her muscles relaxed and her pulse slowed to a normal pace again, but she was resolutely silent and her eyes wide. It wasn't long before Deirdre had become visibly restless, standing up and pacing the room, deep in thought. Anne had watched her as she had checked her phone messages, poured herself a glass of water, and stared out the dark window at the night street outside. Conversation in the room was minimal, and small talk insufficient to quell everyone's anxieties as they watched Lily's open terror which they remained helpless to remove from her, and thought of Monica at the hospital, and John, Mulder and Scully who were no doubt falling to pieces fretting about her.

The silence was only significantly broken when Jenny and Brian at last arrived. Even in the middle of the night Jenny wore a flowing skirt and white blouse, entering the house with a soft expression that enabled Anne to see right through into her pure soul. It was Deirdre who filled them in on what had happened, and Jenny, her heart visibly breaking, went straight over to Lily, gave her a long kiss on the forehead, and then moved her from Christi's lap into her own. Jenny adored children, and it was the cruellest act that she had only been able to have one of her own.

"I wish there was something we could do for her," Christi said sadly, fingers trailing miserably through Lily's hair. "Take it all away."

It was at this point that Anne spotted the look in Deirdre's eyes, pausing to stare at the scene with strained sorrow in her blue eyes.

"Are you all right?" Anne asked softly.

"I'm going to duck home," she announced suddenly, reaching immediately for her keys, phone and wallet. "Pack a bag."

"Can't you go later?" Carol asked, puzzled.

"You can borrow some of my clothes," Anne offered. "There's no rush."

But Deirdre was already buttoning her coat over her pyjamas, and gave them a pleasant smile which Anne knew was fake.

"We won't be long," Deirdre said.

Brian looked up. "We?"

"You're coming with me," she said to Anne. She nodded to Anne's bare feet and flimsy pyjamas. "You'd better grab some shoes and a coat."

XXX

It was fifteen minutes later that Anne found herself standing in Deirdre's bedroom, and still none the wiser as to why she had brought along and detached from her granddaughter and the rest of the family at the hospital. Deirdre had been silent and stressed for the entire drive, and though the roads were empty she seemed strained, her knuckles white as she gripped the wheel and her eyes darting in all directions. When they arrived at her bedroom, Anne had moved automatically to the cupboard in which she knew Deirdre's overnight bag was kept, but her sister hurried instead to her desk and began rifling through the top drawer, emerging after a chaotic clutter with a handful of business cards bound together with a thick rubber band.

"Look, you know I trust you," Anne said, trying her best to remain patient, "but I'd appreciate it if you could not leave me in suspense for the entire night."

Deirdre merely flicked off the rubber band and began sorting through the cards. All appeared to be contacts associated with her work as a psychologist.

Anne sighed and turned around, leaning against the desk and becoming suddenly aware of how little sleep she'd had. Her body felt exhausted, her mind weary.

At last Deirdre settled for a few cards, and put the rest back in the drawer.

"Come sit down," she said, taking Anne's elbow and leading her to the double bed.

Anne obediently sat down, awaiting an explanation.

"I'm going to tell you something," Deirdre said, taking Anne's hand firmly in hers. "You're not going to enjoy hearing it, but I want you to be the first to know. Because when the others get home in an hour or two I'm going to need your help, and I want you to prepare yourself."

The words did not alarm Anne half as much as the tender way in which Deirdre was holding her hand.

"Just say it," Anne said, unable to bear the strain any longer. "Whatever it is."

"She's mute."

There was a second of silence, and Anne wondered if her tired brain had heard right.

"I'm sure of it," Deirdre finished sadly.

"Mute?" Anne repeated. The word sounded strange on her tongue.

"Trauma-induced muteness," Deirdre explained. "It's not unheard of in kids her age. In fact it's quite well-documented. Kids or babies who experience or witness a terrifying event - it's essentially an anxiety disorder which consumes them. They become afraid of everything; people they don't know, situations they aren't familiar with. And they're often physically unable to speak when in those situations. She may be fine at home, but not out of her comfort zone. Time will tell."

Anne stood up, needing to move to shake off the dark cloud that was gathering within her.

"It's only been an hour," she reasoned. "You can't diagnose her yet."

"She hasn't uttered a word or made a single noise since she stopped screaming," Deirdre pointed out. "And I think that combined with her desperate clinging is evidence enough. Those bruises below your ribs aren't the mark of a healthy child."

Anne tried to mentally throw off her sister's comments, but they would not budge. The simple fact that was that Deirdre was one of the best in her field, and had an instinctive understanding of Post-Traumatic Stress and Anxiety Disorders which had made her the cornerstone of the survivors' recoveries over the past four years. At the same time she found the thought of Lily being mute overwhelming, and she found the past few years of her life flash before her in a slideshow of agony: Luke, Canada, the endless daily battle of PTSD ... how much more would she have to endure?

Deirdre stood up and slid a comforting arm around her trembling shoulders. Anne wiped away a hot tear.

"I thought of taking her to hospital but there's little they can do. There's medication which may alleviate her anxiety, but the end result will be the same. And many doctors will have second thoughts about prescribing it to such a young child. Not to mention the fact that strictly speaking John and Monica are her legal guardians, and only they can authorise medical treatment for her. I thought of Dana, but even if I could pry her away from the hospital she's certainly in no condition to be treating anyone right now. So right now we'll just have to sit tight till morning, and then I'll ring around to some experts I know - some psychiatrists who specialise in paediatrics, and may have encountered this type of thing before. You know I don't have any experience with kids."

Anne tried to collect herself. She took a deep breath.

"I'll tell the others when we get back. But if you need to cry, do it now. Because when we get back you may not get another chance."

Anne leaned into Deirdre as she wiped away the few stray tears. She took another deep breath as Deirdre held her.

"It'll be all right," Deirdre said. "I'm here, Carol's here, Jenny's here, and David and Brian ... and we're all here for you all. We'll work together and make it better. All right?"

And Anne nodded. Twice before she had entrusted her sanity to Deirdre's protection, and both times Deirdre had pulled everyone through. But all the same her heart broke wondering how much more pain her family would have to endure, and thought of poor Lily, trapped in a world of paralysing fear.

XXX

After four long hours in the hospital waiting room, Scully, along with John, Mulder, Jack and Charlie, conceded that there was nothing more they could do by remaining there. Monica's cuts had been fixed, and she had then been moved to the psychiatric ward, where they had been informed she would be shifted to a specialised psychiatric hospital in the morning. Scully knew the local facility as Hillside, as she had heard about it from Deirdre who had several times before during the troughs of their illnesses suggested they take "time out" there. It was a small, bright and friendly, with nurses and doctors on hand, and Monica would have a private room. Part of her hated that Monica would be forced to go there, yet as far as these recovery hospitals went, it was the best, and she was eager for Monica to engage with the services to make a recovery, rather than leave them to endure her periodic self-harm tendencies for years to come. No, the step had to be taken now.

It was at the first hint of dawn that they drove home, the sky purple on the eastern horizon as they pulled up into their street. It had been a hellish night. John had barely taken a break from crying at the entire four hours at the hospital, and Mulder had been wet-eyed and silent, saying repeatedly that they should have taken her straight to hospital earlier in the evening. Scully's practical advice that they would certainly do that next time did not ease their regrets. But she, too, felt strained beyond capacity, and it was only Charlie's strong arm around her shoulders that had kept her relatively grounded. Even so, she had suffered several small anxiety attacks, which continued to plague her daily, and even more so during these times of stress. The only up side to these attacks was that the entire family was used to them now, and they did not hesitate to hold her close and coach her breathing until they subsided.

The surprises started when they saw Jenny, Carol and Deirdre's cars all parked out the front.

"Looks like we got company," John said, looking puzzled.

"We left 'em with five kids under four and no sleep," Jack said. "Three in diapers, two of them breastfeeding babies. Of course they're gonna need help."

This quelled some of Scully's worry, yet at the same time she could not help wondering what would be so bad that Anne would phone Jenny. Deirdre definitely, as she was a very close part of their family and knew from Anne's phone call with John that she had been notified immediately. And whilst Carol and Jenny were also close family, and frequently over anyway, the fact remained that Carol lived only 15 minutes away, but Jenny and Brian a whole hour. It did not stack up in Scully's mind that Anne would go to the trouble of hauling out Jenny and Brian for the simple sake of helping with a diaper change or a feed.

With an ominous feeling heavy in her already somersaulting stomach, she followed the family inside, her fingers linked with Mulder's. A glance into his eyes told her that he, too, did not entirely believe Jack's reasoning.

"Hey," John said, trying to muster a brave face through his wet cheeks as he dropped his keys with a clatter on the kitchen bench.

"Hey," Christi said, giving him a grim smile.

At first glance, the scene was perhaps of domestic bliss: Anne, Christi, Deirdre, Jenny, Carol, Brian and David were all sitting on the lounge suite, Anne's feet up on the coffee table amongst a collection of dirty coffee mugs. Half of them were still in their pyjamas, and though they looked distressed and exhausted by the night's events, they were coping. But as Scully's eyes caught Lily - wrapped up in her purple bedspread in Jenny's loving arms, she quickly erased her first impression, and in its wake noticed other tell-tale signs: Deirdre's arm around Anne's exhausted form, an open box of headache tablets on the coffee table, discarded balls of used tissues, and Deirdre's bulging overnight bag at their feet.

Yet with all these thoughts flying through Scully's mind in two seconds flat, the thought of Catherine still managed to slip in, and she noticed there was no sign of the other four kids.

Charlie got in first. "Kids okay?"

"All asleep upstairs," Carol replied. "Except this one."

Her fingers fondly touched Lily's hair as she snuggled into Jenny's chest.

"How's Monica?" Anne asked.

"They wouldn't let us see her," Mulder said heavily.

"She's being moved to Hillside," Scully added. "They said it'll be midday at least before we can talk to her. After -"

But she broke off as John threw her an incredulous look of disbelief at their easy conversation, and moved with a puzzled expression toward his daughter.

Deirdre immediately withdrew her arm from her sister and sprang to her feet. "John, sit down."

"What's the matter with her?" he asked, moving quickly past Deirdre and crouching down beside Jenny. Lily did not turn to look at him; her face was still buried between the purple doona and Jenny's chest.

Scully moved to join them, eyes on Lily's still form.

"Hey," John said, with a note of forced cheeriness, touching his daughter's back through the doona. "Lil ..."

"John, don't -"

Christi had tried to reach for her brother, but it was too late. The effect of John's touch was instantaneous: Lily tensed like ice and her arms shot around Jenny's thin frame, locking herself onto her. Her eyes were wide and utterly terrified as Scully stared in astonishment.

Deirdre grasped his arm. "John, come sit down."

Renewed tears were in John's eyes. "What did I do?"

"Nothing," Carol said, also reaching for him. "She's just upset."

"You said she was fine."

John turned with an accusatory look toward his mother. Scully saw Anne appeared utterly drained and had no patience for a fight. She calmly stared back at him.

Deirdre tugged gently on his arm. "John, sit down -"

"You lied to me?!"

Jenny gasped as Lily gripped even tighter.

"Calm down -"

"I sure as hell won't calm down!" John shouted. "My own daughter's catatonic - seven of you here - not one of you thought to let me know?"

"SIT DOWN!"

It was not Deirdre who spoke this time but David. Strongly built and six foot tall, he shot to his feet.

"You've had a shit night, John, but so have all of us," he said flatly. "So just sit your aggressive ass down and bring it down a notch, because none of us are in the mood."

John stared. He threw another irritated look to his mother.

"Your mother's done all she can and more and got herself bruised like a punching bag trying to help," David went on. "So just sit down, calm down, and we'll discuss what's happened in a rational manner which doesn't involve ripping

her to any more pieces than she's already in."

For a moment Scully thought John would lose his temper completely, possibly bolt from the room and back to the car, but Scully reached out for his wrist and grasped it softly.

"John ..."

He met her eyes, and his expression softened. With a sigh he cast depressed eyes on his daughter and then let Deirdre and Christi lead him to a seat. Jack sat himself on Anne's armrest and put his arm around her.

Scully shed her coat and took David's place beside Jenny, putting a gentle hand to Lily's hair. Lily did not shy away from her as she had from John, but she looked rigidly terrified. Jenny held her tight and kissed her.

Scully sighed. "She's been like this since we left?"

"Not a word," Deirdre said. "She won't let anyone go."

Scully could feel Deirdre's anxiety as she tried to examine the little girl. She slipped her fingers around Lily's small wrist and found her pulse was normal. Similarly her temperature was normal. With a sinking feeling she knew the reaction was entirely psychiatric, and understood the significance of her not saying a word, even though it appeared Mulder and John hadn't.

"Hi," Scully said to Lily, touching her cheek. "You feeling scared, huh? A little frightened?"

She had not expected Lily to answer, but the eye contact she established was enough, as Lily's blue eyes found her.

"It doesn't explain why she won't come near me," John said, still a little edgy.

"You shouted at her," Mulder said. "In the bathroom you yelled at her to get out."

John looked stricken. "But I didn't mean ..."

But inside, Scully felt her own fears amplify as she knew Lily was unlikely to embrace Monica, either. Suffering from an ongoing anxiety disorder herself, Scully understood Lily's behaviour. She had been petrified upon finding Monica in the bath cutting herself, had wet her pants and screamed, and when her Daddy arrived he had only yelled at her ... it was no wonder she was rejecting him.

"Have you given her anything?"

"I'm not qualified to," Deirdre said.

Scully nodded. "Someone go get my medication."

"I'll go," Anne said quietly, and quickly left the room to go next door.

Scully immediately saw the family exchanging looks, and the moment Anne had closed the door behind her Carol started on John.

"You shouldn't have opened your trap, John," she said. "She's a wreck."

John was already looking ashamed of himself, and said nothing.

"Where's she hurt?" Scully asked.

"Sides of her ribs," Deirdre said. "Lily was clinging to her so tight she could barely breathe. We had to pry her off when we got here. Anne was sick, vomited in the kitchen sink."

Suddenly a lot more worried, Scully got her feet just as Anne returned with the box of medication. Scully headed her off in the kitchen, taking the box from her hands and throwing it across the room to Mulder, who caught it with a single hand.

"Give her a quarter of a tablet, crush it, and sprinkle it on some crushed banana to get her to swallow it."

"Gotcha," he replied.

Meanwhile Scully took Anne's elbow and let her into the privacy of Monica and John's walk-in pantry.

"I'm all right," Anne said, voice trembling. Despite her words she looked ready to break down any moment.

"Let me look."

Anne sighed and unbuttoned her satin pyjama top. She was not wearing a bra underneath, but Scully was only interested in the bruises either side of her rib cage, and knelt down a little for a closer look, lightly touching her fingers to the long red streaks, which were already starting to darken. It was hard to believe the marks had been made by a two and a half year old girl, and reinforced for Scully the seriousness of what they were all facing.

"Does it hurt?"

"A little," Anne admitted. "When you touch it, or when I move the wrong way."

But Scully still felt concerned over her vomiting, and made Anne keep still as she continued to probe her way down over her internal organs, checking for any additional damage. But Anne did not flinch or gasp in pain, and Scully was left to conclude the vomiting had simply been a psychological symptom.

"I want you to put some ice on it," Scully said.

"I'm okay," Anne repeated, and she sighed as she rebuttoned her top. "It's just Monica, and Lily ..."

"I know," Scully said, squeezing her arm. "But I'm here now and I'm going to help."

"She's mute, you know. Lily."

"I know," Scully said, nodding. "Don't worry. Just take a deep breath."

It was a minute later, once Anne had pulled herself together, that they headed back in with the rest of the family. John stood in the kitchen, looking anxious and apologetic, a makeshift ice pack in his hands which he handed with a guilty look to his mother.

"Thanks," she said.

"Look, I'm sorry," he said heavily. "I shouldn't have said it. I just -"

"I know," Anne finished. "Bad night."

He nodded, and after a moment they hugged briefly, Anne kissing him on the cheek. They had simply been through far too much in their lives to hold grudges.

"Come sit down," Scully said, leading them both back to the couch, where Jack slipped the ice pack under his wife's top, holding it there for her and kissing her affectionately on the temple as she leaned against him.

Scully sat down with John. Mulder had taken the spot next to Lily, and had the empty spoon from the banana and medication in his hand. He kissed Lily's hair and watching it, Scully felt her own heart warm with love for him.

"All right," Scully said, clasping her hands together. "Here's what's going to happen. First of all, Monica is going to be okay. It's frustrating that there's nothing we can do, but right now she's in the best possible place. I think she needs to face these self-harm tendencies once and for all, and at Hillside she'll have the help to enable to her to do that. We can go back after lunch to visit her, but until then it's out of our hands. The best thing we can do for her is to make sure that everything is smooth here."

"Do we tell her about Lily?" Deirdre asked. She had filled in Mulder and John about Lily's mute behaviour when Scully had been attending to Anne.

"No," Mulder interjected. "Not until she's ready. She's in no shape to deal with that now."

"I'll look after Lily," Scully said.

John raised his teary eyes to her, looking dejected.

"She's two years old," Scully explained. "She doesn't have the menatal capacity to manage her emotions in the way that we do, and the worst possible thing you can do is to invalidate her feelings. It may not be rational to you or me, but that doesn't help Lily. You need to give her unconditional love; love her and support her in spite of how she may be feeling toward you right now."

"She'll come around," Mulder said. "Give her your understanding, and in time she won't even remember any of this."

John nodded, trying to pull himself together.

"She can come stay with us," Scully said. "I'll take good care of her."

"I'll make some phone calls in an hour or two," Deirdre said, checking her watch. It was only 7AM. "We'll get her checked by a paediatric psychiatrist. She'll probably need a speech pathologist, too."

John took another deep breath and nodded. He had absorbed a lot in the last four hours.

Suddenly there was a sound of crying, and Christi looked at the baby monitor on the table.

"That's Nathe," John said, knowing his son's cry.

He headed upstairs to attend to his baby son, and Scully went to sit beside Jenny and take Lily from her, inserting her into her own lap to fulfil her role as substitute mother.

XXX

For Scully, the morning flew by so fast she barely had time to think. The most prominent thing on her mind was responsibility for Lily. When she had been born, Monica and John had named Scully and Mulder her guardians in the event of their death. And though both of them were very much alive, they were both currently unable to care for her, and so she underook her duty to her goddaughter seriously, treating her as her own daughter. She took some key items from Lily's room and moved them next door to set her up a temporary bedroom until things healed, including several toys, her pillow, lamp, clothes and purple doona. Then she got her dressed, brushed her hair, before ducking up the street to the local toy shop and returning with a large floppy purple rabbit, with ears as long as its body.

"I bought you something," Scully had explained to her, holding Lily in her lap. She handed the bag to Lily, but Lily seemed to have no curiosity for what was inside, and simply leaned against Scully with a depressed look.

"His name's Purple Rabbit," Scully went on, pulling the soft toy from the bag and putting it in Lily's arms. "He's yours."

She watched as Lily picked up the rabbit with her spare arm, and after touching its ears and feeling how soft and cuddly they were, she looped her arm around its neck and cuddled it to her in a headlock.

"I know you're feeling sad right now," Scully said gently, "and that there's a hurt inside you which you can't get rid of. But you know that's okay. And when you feel sad, or upset, or even a little cranky, I want you to just hold Purple Rabbit. He'll always be there for you. Just like I am."

Scully wasn't sure if Lily had absorbed any of her words, yet the fact that she had accepted the rabbit and already showed signs of not wanting to let it go was better than she had hoped for. The rabbit had been a hunch of Scully's, a device both to comfort her, and to give her something to cling to other than the rib cages of the various family members. It was a strategy she had read about in the management of autistic children, and had hoped it would prove just as useful for Lily. So with that in mind, she had dashed down to the toy shop and amongst the dozens of shelves packed with toys had selected the softest and cuddliest animal she could find, and in Lily's favourite colour - purple - which dominated her wardrobe and bedroom.

"You wanna show your Daddy?" Scully asked, pointing up at John nearby.

John had spent an hour in a bedroom with Deirdre, sorting through his thoughts, and had emerged with a determination to keep a positive outlook. Scully had suggested that until Lily's shock began to ease a little, it was probably best he did not touch her. But he smiled pleasantly and crouched down beside them to admire the rabbit.

"It doesn't breed, right?" he joked.

"Do you like it?" Scully asked her.

Lily did not answer, but her fingers stroked the rabbit's long, soft ears. And unbelieveably, she then peered up at Scully with a shy smile.

"I'll settle for that," John said, looking relieved.

Lily carried Purple Rabbit around with her religiously for the next few hours. Even when Scully had taken her to the bathroom Lily had been unwilling to let it go, cuddling it to her chest whilst she did her business. All in all, the scheme had been more successful than she could have ever hoped for.

The visit after lunch to Hillside, where Monica was staying, also went fairly well. They found her in her single room, with a fairly nice window looking down onto the green gardens, and sitting up in bed in a hospital gown and a guilty, though somewhat depressed, expression.

"Hey," Scully had said, entering first with John and Mulder. The rest of the family had chosen to give them ten minutes alone first, always aware of the intense bond the four had, and willing to give it space.

"Hi," Monica replied. The depressed look vanished as the four took turns hugging her tight, each of them showering her in kisses.

"How you feelin'?" John asked, sitting down beside her and grasping her hand tight. "That snowman still lurkin' about, or did ya give him a beatin'?"

Monica gave a non-committal shrug. Then, after an awkward moment, she added, "I wasn't trying to kill myself."

"We know," Mulder said. "It's okay."

"I know you didn't plan for it to happen," Scully said. "Sometimes these things just do. It all becomes too much. Overwhelming."

"Yeah."

There was another awkward moment.

"Does it hurt much?" John asked, indicating her wrist.

"No," she said, looking as if she'd almost forgotten about it already. "Not the wrist."

"But it does mentally," Mulder finished for her.

Monica nodded. "Yeah."

"Did you speak about it with the doctors?"

"A little."

Scully studied her friend with a doctor's eye. She seemed relieved to see them, but she was also guarded, nervous, and still emotionally unstable. There was nothing in her face to indicate she had released everything she had been holding in, and she seriously doubted as to whether Monica had told her treaters anything other than a skeleton medical history.

Scully sighed. "A little doesn't cut it, Monica."

"This is the second time," John added.

"It's different," Monica argued. "It's not like last time. I wasn't trying to end it."

"Maybe it'd help to explain to us what you were trying to do," Mulder said. "Help us to understand."

He leaned against her bedside cabinet with a casual look, arms folded as though he was at leisure and had all day to wait for her to reply.

There was a long pause in which Monica looked between the three of them, and after seemingly deciding there was no weak link amongst them, she sighed and some of her guard dropped.

"It helps," she said, in the softest voice.

"It helps?" Scully repeated.

"The cutting," Monica added.

"It helps to slice your arm up like you're carvin' a roast?" John asked skeptically.

Mulder, however, took sympathy on her and sat down beside Scully. "You mean it's a release. It feels good. To express your pain."

Monica nodded. Mulder reached for her hand and squeezed in understanding.

"Well it sure as hell doesn't feel good for us," John said heavily. "You can't make us go through this every time you hit a slump. You gotta get past it. And if not for us than for the kids. Lily especially."

Scully shot him a look - she did not want Monica to know yet about Lily's state, and they had all agreed they would not tell her until she was not quite so vulnerable. But Monica caught the look in his eyes and her own immediately widened with fear.

"What do you mean?" she demanded quickly.

"John," Scully said, grabbing his arm to silence him.

John ignored her. "You know she found you last night, right?"

"Well, yeah, but ..." Monica paused. "You took care of her? She's all right?"

Scully gripped his arm tighter. "John."

"What are you keeping from me?" Monica demanded, turning to give a hard look at Scully and Mulder.

"Do you remember her screaming? Wettin' herself?" John went on.

Monica stared, vaguely shaking her head. Scully was not surprised; Monica had been quite out of it by that stage.

Realising it was too late now to keep it from her, Scully gently took both her shoulders and steered her to look directly at her.

"Monica, she had a reaction. You can call it what you like - shock, anxiety, terror - but she has not said a word since, is rejecting John's company, and spent the best part of the morning with her arms desperately locked around my middle."

Monica still shook her head in confusion, but one part of the sentence seemed to catch.

"She's not talking?"

"Mute," Mulder said gently, holding her hand tight. "She's mute."

Monica had flung back the bed covers before anyone could grab her, and made a dash for the door.

Mulder had to run to catch her, grabbing her upper arm and hospital gown just in time. The gown flew up revealing Monica's behind, and even in that split second Scully had to surpress a smile as John's eyes automatically found their target.

"You can't leave."

"You're involuntarily committed, Monica," Scully said firmly, grabbing her arm. "You're not at liberty to just walk out."

Monica swung around. "I don't care. If Lily needs me -"

"Yes, she does," Scully said firmly, pushing the door closed with a thud. "Stable, healthy, and not semi-conscious carving out tattoos in the family bathtub."

Monica's mouth fell closed.

"She may recover this time," Scully continued. "With a lot of help and a large dose of time. But if you want your daughter to grow up healthy and happy you can't ever let this happen again."

Monica looked winded, and Mulder, Scully and John led her back to the bed, where they sat her down.

"But you know there's hope," Mulder said to her. "If you use this place, actively participate in your healing. And if that means having to bare your soul to the psychiatrist here, let them see and hear about every wound, then do it. You're strong enough."

John knelt down in front of her, seizing both of her hands with love. "She needs ya. You gotta come back, stronger than you were before."

Monica sank, burying her head in her hands.

"Talk to your doctors, Monica," Scully said. "You have to just let it all out. No matter how hard that might be. Talk to them about your desire to harm yourself, how it makes you feel, how much you love Lily and Nathan ..."

Monica lifted her head. She had tears in her eyes.

"I'd rather talk to you."

"Then talk," Scully said, nearly crying in desperation herself. "We're right here. We always were."

XXX

The initial intention of the family had been for Mulder, Scully and John to have ten minutes alone with Monica before they joined them, but the trio had ended up staying two hours - until Monica's doctor had come to talk with her and they had been forced to say their goodbyes. Monica - motivated by her fierce desire to get back home and help Lily - had poured her heart out to them, and Scully had listened in tears as Monica described in agonising detail the feeling of cutting herself, the sense of release, the feel and texture of the blood, and the sense that the demons in her mind somehow evaporated with the act, leaving her with a sense of inner peace. They had covered again the events of the mountains, running over the bloodied snow, the frozen bodies, the blizzards and the hopelessness. The remarkable thing was that by the end of two hours crying to them, Monica had looked a lot better. Scully knew Monica well, and understood that she had unparalleled strength when provided with the right motivation. It had been her, after all, who had forced them to hike out of the mountains to safety when they had wanted to curl up and die in the cold. And now, with the goal of her daughter desperately in need and counting on her recovery, Monica had gone from weary and spiritless to her brown eyes full of determination, like the headstrong FBI agent they had once known. Scully had left the building tired, but relieved, and returned home late in the afternoon to resume care of Lily.

Jenny and Carol, along with their respective husbands, had been forced to leave that morning for work, though they had called throughout the day to check in on how things were going. Deirdre had stayed with them, but now she had called in the experts, and when Scully walked into Anne and Jack's house it was to find a skinny woman with wild grey hair and glasses talking quietly with the adults in the kitchen.

"Dana, Mulder, this is Dr. Eliza Saunders," Deirdre introduced. "She's a paediatric psychiatrist who's come to assess Lily. Eliza, this is Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, and John Doggett."

Deirdre pointed them each out in turn, and Scully shook her hand. She was glad when Eliza did not stare at them with fascination like most strangers did.

"Thanks for coming," Scully said.

"Not a problem," Dr. Saunders said. "I've seen quite a few of these cases, though admittedly none quite like yours."

"Is that good or bad?" John asked.

"We'll see," Dr. Saunders said. "For the moment Deirdre's just been filling me in on what happened last night."

"Do you need to examine her?" Scully asked. She glanced over into the living room, where Lily had found a pair of willing arms in Jack - who was holding her as he watched an old black and white western on television.

"She doesn't trust me yet," Dr. Saunders said. "She's been giving me a wary eye and a wide berth since I arrived. For the moment I'd like to just observe her behaviour from a distance. Deirdre's kindly invited me to stay for dinner. It's important you all treat me like an old trusted family friend. Call me 'Eliza', not 'Doctor', etc."

"That's the plan?" John asked, at his wits' end since the exhausting session with Monica. "Eat, drink and be merry?"

"Well we will," Anne said, joining them from where she'd been making coffee. "Maybe you should go get some rest. Take a nap."

John ignored the suggestion, but took the hint and fell silent.

"Just carry on as you normally would," Dr. Saunders said. "Pay no special attention to me."

Scully suddenly felt a small hand on her backside and turned around to see Catherine smiling hopefully up at her. Her heart immediately softening, she turned around and leaned down give her niece a cuddle and a kiss. Catherine had been trying since the previous night to get her attention, and between Monica and Lily Scully hadn't had the chance to give her any.

"Will you come look at my castle?"

"Absolutely," Scully said brightly. "I've love to see your castle."

She followed Catherine over to a corner of the room that was littered with toys, and saw a castle made out of coloured blocks standing at least four feet high, with several towers, a ring around the base that could only be a moat, and a drawbridge.

"Wow," Scully said, quite honestly. "You've been busy. That's incredible."

"It has four towers," Catherine explained, beaming at Scully's praise, "and you can climb right up to the top. And you can see all the way out to the hills. And it has a drawbridge, and a moat, and that's where the baddies drown."

"And where's the prince?" Mulder asked, looking amused as Scully's heart swelled with pride at niece's imagination and focus. "Shouldn't there be a prince?"

"You don't need a prince," Catherine argued, looking at Mulder as though he was ignorant and stupid. "Princes in castles are the product of neanderthal minds that can't cope with equality and the complexities of human nature and attraction. It's a stereotype."

Scully bit her lip and fought to keep a straight face as Mulder looked stunned.

"Neanderthal minds?" Mulder repeated. "Where'd you hear that?"

"Aunt Dana," Catherine said proudly, putting her arms around her and climbing into Scully's lap.

Mulder turned to give her a mock look. "That was you?"

Scully struggled and failed to bite back her smile.

"Well I have to say I disagree with that," Christi said, who was also struggling not to grin. "Personally I love a good prince. And a good tower."

"Especially one constructed by a Scully, right?" Charlie asked, grinning as his meaning was plain.

"Can we turn off the vulgarity please?" Scully asked.

"What's vulgarity?" Catherine asked innocently.

"It means your Dad's being naughty," Christi said. Then added with a straight face, "But don't worry, I'll punish him later."

The next two hours passed in normal fashion, the only exception being Lily, who spent most of it in Scully's lap, even when they all settled down for dinner. Lily seemed a lot calmer, but was still clinging to Purple Rabbit everywhere she went and had still not said a word. Dr. Saunders, whilst she chatted with the adults in the family as though they had known each other for thirty years and not two hours, watched Lily all evening out of the corner of her eye, including her body language, her tight grip on Purple Rabbit, and her degree of interaction with each member of the family.

After all the dishes had been gathered and Chloe and Catherine were back playing in the corner, Dr. Saunders turned seriously to all the adults gathered in the kitchen, cleaning up.

She looked to Deirdre. "I want to do an experiment. I want someone to pick her up, carry her over to where the other girls are playing, and set her down with them. Then walk back to us calmly. No one's to look at her or pay her any special attention. I want to see what she does."

Deirdre volunteered, and followed the instructions, picking up Lily and setting her down in the play area beside Catherine before turning to walk calmly back to the family in the kitchen.

It was hard not to watch, and Scully did out of her peripheral vision as she rinsed a mug. But she had not expected the painful sight that followed: Lily stood for a moment utterly bewildered as to why she had been placed there. Her fearful blue eyes looked to Catherine beside her, to Chloe playing with some toys, and then she turned around and stared at the distant adults in the kitchen - most of whom were obeying Dr. Saunders and trying not to look. For a moment she stood, clearly in distress, staring at them. Her eyes flicked fearfully between Dr. Saunders and John, clearly debating whether she could reach the safety of someone's arms whilst dodging these dangerous people, and then she bolted - her small legs running over with Purple Rabbit dangling from her hand as she ran towards the safest female in the room - Anne. She wrapped her arms around Anne's thigh, and as Anne turned to hold her, nestled her face in her groin.

Scully let out a held breath. Dr. Saunders didn't look at all surprised.

A few minutes later, when Mulder volunteered to take Lily for a play in order to allow them time to talk, Dr. Saunders filled them in.

"Well I'm going to concur with your diagnosis," she told Deirdre. "She's not only mute in the strict definition of it, but is highly anxious. I mean, to the point where she's not even comfortable being across the room from you, that's clearly abnormal. You represent safety and security, and so she clings to you, from one to the next."

"What do we do?" Christi asked.

"Well I'll write a prescription for something which should bring down her anxiety, as well as some antidepressants. Give her half a tablet of each, twice a day with food. I'm afraid though that other than that it may just be a question of time. She's clearly had a huge upheaval with what happened last night. Maybe she'll improve when her Mom returns and things fall back into their normal pattern. But regardless, I think one way or another she'll settle in time. The more pressing problem is her refusal to talk."

"We can't force her to talk," Scully said. "In fact I imagine there's every chance she won't as long as she's feeling this scared."

"You have to remember, though, that the majority of mute children aren't silent around the clock. Usually they can be quite talkative, even normal, in the security of their own home and family. It's only when they encounter strangers or unfamiliar situations that they become mute. And I'm afraid it's beyond Lily's control, too. Some researchers suggest that these kids are so afraid they physically can't speak. But nearly all of them grow out of it in time, and with appropriate treatment. The most important thing for you all to do is to keep encouraging her to talk. A lot of people get used to the child being silent, and don't require them to interact anymore. So it's vital that you keep asking her questions, invite her to respond. It may even help to do it on a one-on-one basis, if one of you might try sitting down alone with her and playing for an hour, try to make her comfortable enough to get her talking. Until you reach that stage where she can interact with at least one of you, there might be very little a speech pathologist can do to help."

"But you said the medication should help right?" John asked. "If it takes away even a bit of what she's feeling, might loosen her up."

"It should," Dr. Saunders said, nodding. "We'll put her on a trial for two weeks. In the meantime, like I said, try interacting with her one-on-one, use a private bedroom where there's no one else in sight. Somewhere she's familiar with and feels safe. Even something like reading to her in bed at night, snuggle in, encourage her to talk and interact with you and the story."

"We can do that," Anne agreed.

"But what about her clinging?" Jack asked.

"She's seeking comfort and it's important that you give it to her. You have to be available to her, even though it may be slightly annoying or inconvenient to have her latched on, every hug you give her is reinforcing her sense of safety, which she's actively trying to rebuild. So whatever you do, don't push her away. In fact I'd make sure that one of you is always around and available to reinforce it. Even at night, wherever she's sleeping I'd perhaps ensure that she understands where you are, perhaps even leave some lights on so she can see, doors open so she can find you easily. It might even help to stay with her until she falls asleep."

There was a pause as the family tried to absorb and remember all this advice.

"How did Monica take it when you told her?"

John shrugged. "She's climbin' the walls tryin' to get out."

"Well that's an good sign," Dr. Saunders said. "All the same I think I'll drop in for a word. She needs to be ready for what she's going to face here. Because even if everything goes to plan this isn't something you're going to heal in one night, or even a few weeks. Trauma-induced muteness in a child this young can be a long process and a lot of hard work. She's going to need ongoing treatment from a speech pathologist, and we need to have that well established and on track long before she begins school - which will come around sooner than you think. In the meantime, with your permission, I'd like to keep coming around regularly. It's vital she gets to used to me, and when she does I'll be in a much better position to treat her directly." She paused for breath. "Any questions?"

"No, I think that's okay," Scully said, speaking for the group. "At least enough to think about for one night."

Dr. Saunders nodded. "Then let me write you a script."

XXX

Before Monica's night of self-harm, Scully's life had been extremely busy, but now with the added responsibility of Lily, it was close to impossible. During the day she had work at the Medical School, and Lily was cared for by the family, but during the evening and night she was solely Scully and Mulder's responsibility. She stuck to the advice of Dr. Saunders, and every evening after work spent an hour playing with Lily in her living room, taking an active interest in her toys and constructions, always talking to her and inviting her to answer. Lily was yet to say a word, yet she was clearly starting to relax with Scully's consistent attention. After two weeks of this treatment she no longer needed to be in her lap, but played up to a few feet away, though she would still not tolerate Scully leaving the room. However she was smiling more, whether because of the medication she was on or Scully's efforts was unknown, but the progress was encouraging all the same. Bath time every evening was also more difficult, firstly because Lily refused to surrender Purple Rabbit, and Scully had to perch Purple Rabbit on the soap tray while Scully washed her. Then, after accompanying her to use the toilet before bedtime, either her or Mulder would snuggle up in bed and read to her, always careful to ask her opinion on the story or characters, seeking a verbal response. It became clear early on that Mulder was the star storyteller, as he did all the voices and absurb facial expressions, as well as inventing words and sentences to give the stories more humour. Scully's storytelling skills were clearly lacking in Lily's eyes. So within a week Mulder had the storytelling responsibility, and John - who often peeked around the door - started smiling at his daughter's smiles and obvious happiness. And every night Lily fell asleep in Mulder's arms, and he would carefully lay her down with a goodnight kiss.

Dr. Saunders came around for dinner every few nights, observing Lily's progress and enabling Lily to get used to her presence in the family. And now, two weeks on, Lily was walking past her without fear, and the doctor was pleased with this development. It also turned out that Dr. Saunders, as a paediatric psychiatrist, had an enormous talent with kids, and one of her methods in gaining Lily's trust was to play with Catherine, Chloe, and the two baby boys, fully aware that Lily was watching from across the room with a look of jealousy. Seeing this, Scully had seized the opportunity to take Lily over and sit with her while they joined the fun, and Lily now played with Dr. Saunders on the play rug, even though she would not talk to her, and preferred one of the family adults to be close nearby for safety.

Lily's relationship with John was also on the up. Though she was sleeping in the spare room at Scully and Mulder's house, she was no longer clamming up at his presence, or watching him warily as he came and went from the room. John's efforts to remain positive in the face of her rejection had worked, and her defences were rapidly collapsing. Once already Lily had drifted in to the kitchen for a cuddle before realising the legs she was hugging were her Dad's, and John had practically beamed as he hugged her in return. She was also allowing him to kiss her, though she preferred to not be picked up, as she freely allowed Scully to do. But John was happy, as his nightmares of having Lily's rejection end up being a permanent arrangement were unfounded.

Monica was also improving. After hearing what happened to Lily and opening up to the survivors about her feelings, she had improved, and was itching to get out of the place. Yet the doctors had decided not to give her the all clear just yet, eager to ensure the recovery would be permanent and stable, and not a tactic for Monica to get out of there as quickly as possible, only to relapse. So they had decreed a three week stay, which Deirdre thought reasonable, and Monica was two thirds of the way through. Dr. Saunders was also visiting her to keep her informed of Lily's progress, and it was these reports that Monica clung to in her determination to get out and be of some help to her distressed daughter.

But the biggest development, these two weeks later, was when Scully was doing yet another session of playing with Lily on the rug, alone, with the rest of the family next door. Lily had a circle of soft toys around her, of which Purple Rabbit was the most important, and was engaging in a tea party with a plastic picnic basket and cups and saucers that she had gotten the previous Christmas. Scully, as a feminist, did not usually care for the play-based imitation preparing her for life as a domestic housewife, yet in the face of Lily's illness she played along.

"I think Purple Rabbit wants some more, don't you?" Scully asked, pretending to look into an empty cup. "He's thirsty today ..."

Scully took the plastic jug and pretended to pour some more water as Lily watched, cross-legged next to her.

"What's the matter?" Scully asked, realising Lily was staring at her.

Lily opened and closed her mouth, attempting to speak. She twisted a hand anxiously through her brown hair.

Scully rubbed her small back. "You can speak to me. You know I love you."

Not wanting to make her anxious, Scully continued to pretend to pour more water for the various soft toys at the exclusive party.

It was then that she felt a tug on her suit.

Lily's voice was tiny. "Aunt Dana?"

Scully forced herself to react calmly and naturally, though inside her heart leapt with relief and a sudden desire to run next door and spread the news.

"What is it?"

"I -" Lily paused and started again, hand still in her hair. "I have to go to the bathroom."

"Well I think we can do that."

And Scully took her hand and led her upstairs, the weight in her heart lifting as she knew the most important hurdle had been cleared.

XXX

After the breakthrough of Lily's first words, the following week - the last week of Monica's stay at Hillside - passed far easier. Monica was over the moon hearing that Lily had spoken to Scully, and it made her even more eager to get home to encourage this recovery. Lily spoke now in front of Scully, always with a soft nervous voice, and only when no one else was around. A day later, Mulder reported that she had spoken to him during the bedtime story, and one day further, Anne and Deirdre had had the same luck. But she remained quiet and silent within crowds, and her words were generally confined to the one-on-one times with various family members. Nevertheless, she was improving in interaction even if only in body language. Though she nodded or shook her head instead of saying 'Yes' or 'No', and pointed to people and toys rather than struggle to voice her thoughts, it was nevertheless communication, and Dr. Saunders had seized on this to begin working on Lily's traumatic memories of what had happened that night.

The therapy was somewhat play-based, and completed in the cosy comfort of Scully's living room, which was the room where Lily had begun to feel most at ease and started speaking to Scully. Scully sat with Lily on the purple teddybear doona, Lily clutching Purple Rabbit tight as Dr. Saunders sat opposite with a smile and a handful of picture cards.

"Lily, I'm going to show you some pictures," Dr. Saunders said, "and if any of them make you a little upset, anxious or sad, or even angry, I want you to just point at the card."

Scully watched as Dr. Saunders slowly began laying out the cards, one by one. All of them were photos, either of people in the family, toys Lily played with, or rooms in the four houses the family owned, and Dr. Saunders laid them out in a grid. First came a photo of Anne, then one of Lily's old brown teddybear, the kitchen in Christi and Charlie's house, baby Nathan, Uncle Mulder, Purple Rabbit, the plastic cubbyhouse in Christi and Charlie's living room, Aunt Deirdre ... Lily watched them all with a content expression until Dr. Saunders turned over one of the bathroom in which Monica had been found.

Scully felt Lily tense in her arms. Her small hands gripped Purple Rabbit tighter.

"It's okay," Scully soothed, kissing her hair.

"Does that one make you feel bad?" Dr. Saunders asked.

Lily did not answer. She was staring silently at the card.

"Does it make you feel bad?" Scully repeated.

Lily nodded.

"That's good," Dr. Saunders said, patting her small knee encouragingly. "I thought it might. You know it makes your Aunt Dana feel bad too."

Lily peered up at her, and Scully nodded, quickly reinforcing the feeling that Lily was not alone in her feelings.

"Let's do some more."

Dr. Saunders continued turning over cards, and Scully recognised herself, Christi, a colourful toy piano, Anne and Jack's pool, the park up the road ...

Lily lurched forward and pointed to the park.

"The park?" Scully asked, surprised.

But Lily did not answer Scully's surprise, and after a moment Dr. Saunders picked up the card and put it down with the one of Monica and John's bathroom, making a pile of the cards Lily reacted to.

On and on it went, through various rooms of the four houses, the remaining family members, and nearly every toy Lily played with, as well as several of places outside in the street, or up the road at the local shops. But all of the cards Lily recognised, and after several minutes Dr. Saunders had amassed a pile of those Lily had pointed to, or else tensed at when she saw. Scully had been glad that she had not reacted to the photo of John, however she had to the one of Monica, as well as Monica and John's living room, the mailbox outside, the local supermarket, and every photo of the bathrooms in each of their houses. By the end of it, Scully had realised the pattern: Lily was afraid of anything outside the security of the home, afraid of Monica, and afraid of bathrooms.

The session did not last long; Lily's only being two years old restricted her attention span, and Dr. Saunders decided that going through the cards and understanding what they revealed had been enough for the first time. Later, she confessed to Scully that they had a lot of work to do, and first on the long list was Monica.

XXX

It was a beautiful Saturday in October when John brought Monica home, beaming from ear to ear as she walked into Anne and Jack's house.

"Hey..!"

Anne led the rush to embrace her, and although Monica enthusiastically complied, especially as Catherine and Chloe joined the cuddles, her eyes were on Scully across the room.

Monica's return had been carefully planned, both by her doctors at Hillside - where she still had to report once a week - and by Deirdre, Dr. Saunders, and the rest of the family. Monica had been fully briefed on every detail of Lily's condition, so the sight of her playing in the toy area with Scully did not alarm her, and Monica instead threw a dazzling smile at her small daughter, even as Lily climbed fearfully into Scully's arms and buried her face into her neck.

"You wanna welcome back your Mommy?" Scully asked, trying to peer into Lily's buried face.

But Lily gripped tighter. Monica, to her enormous credit, mouthed, "It's okay", and threw Scully a wink.

Scully did not force Lily to face Monica before she was ready, thinking to herself that as with John, the best possible strategy was to get her used to Monica being around again, and allow her to see that Monica was happy and healthy. But Monica, however, thanks to three weeks at Hillside, had had plenty of time to analyse the situation and hatch a plan, and instead of anxiously watching from across the room, had returned not only with a twinkle in her eye and a wide smile, but with a battle plan.

The first part of Monica's strategy was that she was joyful. She cracked jokes, laughed, was physically affectionate with everyone, and all the while remained carefully in clear sight of Lily's silent gaze. After only five minutes of this, Lily's grip on Scully had slackened, and she had lifted her head to watch her Mommy and ponder this abrupt change from the suicidal version she had last seen. Monica, pretending not to notice Lily eyeing her, then implemented the next phase of her strategy, which was to drown the other kids in love and attention. She kissed Nathan all over, grinning from ear to ear, admired how Lachlan had grown and his cute looks, picked up Chloe and held her prominently in her arms - smothering her in kisses, and then rounded it off by going to play with Chloe and Catherine on the other side of the room, in clear view of Lily.

Scully had to admire Monica's sly intellect, as within the following fifteen minutes Lily was ignoring the toys around her, ignoring even Scully, and was rooted to the spot staring at her mother as she fussed over the other two girls and kissed and cuddled them no end. Scully had to hold in her smile as she watched Lily stare with jealousy, and saw Anne, Deirdre and Christi were all smiling to themselves in the kitchen, as they pretended not to watch.

"You wanna join in?" John asked, as he came to their side.

Lily did not answer. She was watching Monica give Chloe another peck on the cheek.

"I'll stay with you," Scully offered. "You can hold onto me."

Lily looked unsure, but Scully gently picked her up, and keeping her secure in her arms, walked her over to where Monica and the girls were playing. Monica paid no attention as they walked over, praising Catherine's latest tower of blocks and claiming she was going to make a great engineer.

"Let's sit down and watch, hmm?" Scully suggested, lowering herself to the floor and pulling Lily back in her lap.

Monica turned and gave her daughter a dazzling smile. "Hey, gorgeous!"

Lily gripped Purple Rabbit tighter, but she did not run away.

"I've missed you," Monica said adoringly. She kissed her own fingers and then reached to gently press the kiss to Lily's cheek. "Mommy's been sick. But I'm back now."

"She's been a lucky girl," John said, crouching down beside them. "Been stayin' with Aunt Dana."

"Wow," Monica said, faking awe as she pretended not to already know this. "Have you been enjoying yourself?"

Lily did not answer.

"You wanna play with us?" Monica asked, holding out a coloured block to add to Catherine's tower.

"Catherine doesn't mind," John added.

"Lily can play," Catherine said importantly, as she reached up high to place a green block on end. "But Aunt Dana can't."

"Why not Aunt Dana?" Mulder asked, who up until now had been leaning against the wall, studying the interaction.

"Because she's a bitch," Catherine replied.

"HEY!" Christi's head immediately flew up. "We do not talk like that."

"But -"

"Laundry," Christi said. "Now."

Catherine marched off, treading her anger into the carpet with every step, and leaving Scully to wonder whether she'd heard right, even though she was sure she had, as her heart broke with a gaping hole in her chest. She felt winded.

"Where did that come from?" Monica asked, equally stunned.

"I've no idea," Christi replied, and threw down the towel she'd been holding. "But I'm going to find out."

XXX

Christi followed her daughter to the laundry, but as this was just down a narrow passageway from the kitchen, even with a closed door the family could hear every word. Scully, still feeling gutted, found herself following subconsciously to the kitchen and then gazing down the empty hallway to the closed laundry door, where she could hear Catherine in floods of noisy tears. She could sense the rest of the family standing around her, pots and dishes now idle in their hands, but her heart broke at the sound of Catherine's tears, echoing around the silent kitchen of eavesdroppers.

"... She doesn't care!" Catherine wailed.

"Your Aunt Dana loves you very much," Christi said calmly, voice slightly muffled by the closed door. "You know that."

There was another wail of words punctured by crying. "All she does is play with Lily!"

"I know," Christi said sympathetically. "But honey, we talked about this. Lily's really sick. She's going to need some extra attention for a while, that's all. And Aunt Dana's a doctor, she's trying to help her. And if that means that she's not as available to the rest of us for a while, we just have to do our best to be patient, all right? She's doing the best she can."

Scully caught a glimpse of Monica standing next to her, tears in her eyes.

"This is all my fault," Monica said suddenly.

Scully heard her speak as a distant whisper, and it wasn't until she felt Mulder's hand on her shoulder that she realised Monica had spoken. She tore her attention away from the laundry as Catherine dissolved into more tears. She blinked as she realised she was crying herself.

"Things just happen, Monica," Jack said. "End of story."

"You wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for me," Monica said, looking to Scully with her insistent brown eyes. "If I hadn't done what I did, you never would have had to take Lily, never hurt Catherine, and Lily would never ..."

She drifted off in pain and swallowed as she caught sight of her daughter, who had snuck into the kitchen and attached herself affectionately to Deirdre's legs, Purple Rabbit still tight in her small arms.

"How much for the rabbit?"

Scully looked up.

"The rabbit," Monica reiterated, looking annoyed that she was so slow on the uptake. "How much did you pay?"

"Forget it," Scully said. "It's nothing."

"Dana, it's my mistake and I'm taking responsibility for it. Now how much?"

Monica's eyes were determined, and Scully knew it was pointless to argue.

"Twenty dollars," she answered. "But you don't owe me anything. I was glad to do it."

"And how many hours have you spent caring for her?" Monica went on.

"What, you gonna pay her wages?" John asked. "Compensation?"

"I have a right to know," Monica said firmly.

"No, you don't," Scully said, equally firm. "She's my niece. You asked me to take care of her if ever you couldn't, and that's what I did. And I would have done it anyway. As my own."

Her heart softened as she saw Lily had now crept behind Anne's legs, and Anne was grinning as Lily nuzzled the back of her thigh.

Monica opened her mouth to argue further was cut off as Christi re-entered the room with Catherine's hand in hers. Catherine's face was wet and red from crying, and she rubbed her eyes with her hand as she looked thoroughly depressed.

"What do you have to say?" Christi said pointedly, stopping in front of Scully.

"I'm sorry," Catherine said miserably.

"For?" Charlie asked, giving his daughter a rare stern gaze.

"Using bad words," Catherine finished, before looking back down at her shoes.

Scully crouched down, eye-to-eye with her niece. In the deepest corner of her heart, she could admit to herself that Catherine was her favourite. She adored all the kids, yet with Catherine she saw herself. Not only did she look the same as Scully had as a child, but had the same inquisitive, intellectual mind, and idolised Scully as much as Scully had idolised her own father. She tucked a strand of Catherine's red hair behind her ear and wiped away a few of her tears.

"I'm sorry too," Scully confessed. "I haven't been there for you lately." She took a deep breath, feeling how much that statement ached. "It's not that I haven't wanted to be. I've just been so busy. It's been so hard."

She avoided the family's eyes as she said this, feeling at once the weariness of the past few weeks.

"But," Scully went on, adopting a positive note, "I was thinking that maybe when things calm down a bit, you and I could do something together. Maybe you could even come over and stay the night, watch a movie, have a bit of a sleepover. Would that be all right?"

Catherine was already grinning with excitement, and she instinctively looked up at Christi for permission.

"That's fine with me," Christi said brightly.

"But in the meantime," Scully said, "perhaps if you ask your Mom nicely, she might let us go up the park for an hour."

Catherine's grin brightened even further. Her eyes were large and hopeful as she looked up at Christi.

"Go on, then," Christi said, unable to keep a straight face.

Catherine flew around to the living room to grab her shoes.

"You shouldn't reward her for swearing at you," Jack said critically.

"It's my fault, not hers," Scully said. Catherine was the oldest of the five kids, yet she was still only three years old herself, and sometimes this was hard to remember. But looking back on the last few weeks, Scully knew that every one of Catherine's criticisms were justified. She had barely spent five minutes with her niece, and that kind of inconsistency was damaging.

"And will you push me on the swings?" Catherine bellowed out as she struggled with her shoes.

"As high as they go," Scully replied.

"And will you -" She paused as she came back to the kitchen, one sneaker askew. Christi bent down to fix it for her. "And will you tell me about gavity again?"

"Gravity," Scully corrected. "I will if you like."

"That was always first on my list whenever I went to the park," John said, nearly rolling his eyes in disbelief. "Inner workings of gravity."

Monica had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, and as Scully went to round up Catherine she saw Lily staring in wonder at Monica's happy face from behind Anne's thigh.

XXX

It was past midnight when Scully woke, lying on her side staring into Mulder's bare back as the moonlight shone on his skin. She was so comfortable it did not make sense that she was awake, and on this thought she rolled over to look at the digital clock, but was met instead with a different sight - Lily.

She was standing silently next to the bed, purple rabbit held tight to the front of her small pyjamas. Scully immediately wondered how long she had been standing there, watching them sleep.

"Hey," Scully said gently, sliding out of bed. "Are you okay?"

Lily remained silent.

"Couldn't sleep, huh?"

Scully gathered her into her arms as she sat on the edge of the mattress. She felt it shift as Mulder woke up, then again as he sat up next to her.

"What's the matter?" he asked, holding her small hand. "Not those bedbugs again, huh?"

Lily did not crack a smile, and instead leant her head against Scully's shoulder. Scully held her tighter.

"It's okay. It's okay ..."

For a moment they both tried to comfort her, but Mulder's dark eyes were filled with concern as he watched Lily sit silently in Scully's arms.

"Can you try to talk to me?" she asked the small girl. "Tell me what's wrong?"

Lily gripped purple rabbit tight.

"Even a few words," Mulder suggested.

"Do you need the bathroom?" Scully asked. Lily's fear of bathrooms had improved over the last few weeks, yet she still did not go alone and with her condition, was usually unable to ask for help. The family were left to guess, and there had been a few near accidents.

"Mommy," Lily said softly.

Scully smiled with surprise and relief.

"You want your Mommy?" Scully asked.

She glanced at the clock. It read 2:06am.

"She'll be up," Mulder said.

It was not rare for the survivors to venture into each other's houses in the middle of the night. It was the night when the memories came the most, when the world was silent and the mind empty of the clutter which occupied them during the daytime. And in these times they woke each other, sat with each other, had midnight snacks in their pyjamas or underwear, or sat outside with coffee and watched the sun rise. Yet now Scully knew Monica would especially not mind being woken, not when Lily was showing interest in her again.

A minute later they were next door, Scully carrying Lily with Purple Rabbit slung over her shoulder. Mulder opened John and Monica's back door with his key, but it was not to find the house in darkness. The lamp in the living room was on, and the pair were on the sofa, John's arm around Monica's shoulders, her bare feet up on the coffee table and a worried look on her face. Dirty mugs were at their feet, and Scully wondered if they had even yet made it to bed.

"Hey," John said, brightening as they let themselves in.

Monica turned around. Her depressed eyes immediately found her daughter and she smiled with a mother's love.

"She couldn't sleep," Mulder explained, as the two made their way over to the sofa.

"She asked for you," Scully told Monica.

With Mulder's help, Scully managed to sit down without having to let go of Lily. Lily did not loosen her grip on Scully's torso, but she turned her head and gazed at her parents. She was wide awake.

"One Mommy as ordered," Mulder said, sitting down on the coffee table at Monica's feet.

"You wanna say 'hi'?" Scully prompted.

Lily was staring at Monica, and Monica was smiling back in hopeful adoration.

"Hey, Baby," she said, and gently reached out to take her daughter's hand, gauging her reaction.

Lily gripped Purple Rabbit tight, but she did not pull away. Scully kissed her hair to reassure her.

"How about you sit with your Mom a while? We'll be right here ..."

Knowing Lily was not going to bolt was enough, as she had clearly requested Monica's presence, and this had obviously been plaguing her mind since Monica's obvious game-playing earlier in the night, when she had deliberately set out to prove to her small daughter that she was happy, and made Lily jealous by playing with Chloe and Catherine. Scully moved her carefully into Monica's lap. She could see the conflicting emotions of fear and powerful love whirring away in Lily's silent gaze.

"Hey Gorgeous," Monica said, beaming as she couldn't help herself. John smiled next to her, watching the scene. "I've missed you like you wouldn't believe."

"Don't close your arms," Mulder said softly, reaching to stop Monica's arms completely circling Lily's waist. Lily had an anxiety disorder, and to be locked into someone's arms would only aggravate it, unless there was a small gap in which Lily felt safe to escape if necessary.

Monica obeyed, but cuddled her daughter close all the same.

"I love you so much ..."

She showered Lily in kisses, over her hair, temple and forehead. Lily's eyes, which had been huge upon the initial move, were now a little more relaxed. It was almost as if she was back where she had belonged, and now she was there, she could not remember the reason or source of her fear.

"You wanna try speakin' to us?" John asked, trying to hold her as well. "Even just one word? I'll even settle for a swear word, if you wanna take after your cousin."

Lily was silent, but Monica was beaming from ear to ear all the same.

"That'll come," Scully said comfortingly, still holding Lily's hand and giving it a squeeze. "Give it time."

"Don't worry, Baby," Monica said lovingly to her daughter. "You just stay with me, and I'll look after everything. You won't have to be afraid."

"We'll make it all better," John promised. "As if it never happened."

Lily's small fingers gripped Monica's pyjama top.

"And who's this?" Monica asked, touching Purple Rabbit's ears. "You wanna introduce me..?"

Scully got up to fetch herself a drink. Knowing Lily felt safe with her in sight, she did not dare leave the house yet, and knew it would be a few hours before she went back next door. But Lily was already relaxing in Monica's arms, snuggling in as if for the first rest she had truly had in three weeks. And though it was only the beginning, Scully smiled to herself as a weight lifted inside and she knew instinctively it would be all right.

XXX

THREE YEARS LATER

"You girls comin'?" John called.

Scully stood with John, Mulder, and John and Monica's three year old son Nathan in the kitchen of their house, waiting for Lily and Monica to come down from upstairs. It was Lily's first day of school, and she would be starting with Chloe, who was in the same class. Scully had taken the morning off work to go with them and ensure an easy transition for Lily into her first day. It had been a long three years since Lily was first diagnosed. It had been a full month after Monica's incident before Lily had uttered a word to her, and a further three weeks before Scully and Mulder had been able to safely move her back home into her own bedroom, and clean up the spare room she had been using in the interim. Dr. Saunders had worked extensively with her thereafter, mostly in play therapy for the first year after the incident. Monica had religiously participated in every session, always determined to help Lily heal and undo the damage she had done. And for the three years after the incident, John and Monica drove Lily into the city every week to visit the speech pathologist, Dr. Cassar. It had been a slow process, but Lily had gradually become comfortable in speaking to the entire family, starting off in small sentences and then two years later, full chatty conversation, to which Mulder, delighted, had christened her Miss Chatterbox. The remaining year of her treatment had focused on allievating the anxiety that overcame Lily when faced with strangers. Dr. Cassar had eased her into these situations, beginning with having his secretary slip into the suite to fetch something while Lily was chatting with them, and then ever so slowly moving up to speaking in public places. And now, on her first day of school, Scully reflected that there was nothing more they could have done to prepare her for this moment.

"How do we look?"

They looked up to see Monica beaming as she came down the stairs with Lily, who was dressed in her brand new Catholic school uniform, which had a blue dress and a blazer, and to top it off Monica had braided her brown hair and put a ribbon at the end.

"You look beautiful," Scully told Lily, as she entered the kitchen with a nervous smile on her face. "All grown up."

John did not say anything, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes as he saw his daughter before him. She looked like a neat little lady now, her perfect posture and gold locket necklace somehow managing to betray the family's wealth as effectively as if she had a dollar sign engraved on her forehead. She had a smidgent of class, and in John's eyes there was clearly pride and affection, but also a little piece of sadness, as though his little girl was growing up too fast.

"Speechless?" Mulder teased.

"You look perfect," he told Lily, and bent down to peck her on the cheek. Lily beamed.

The back door crashed open, and in zoomed Chloe, who was also in her brand new uniform, minus the blazer, and with her fluffy blonde hair flying around as she ran into the room. A second later Christi hurried in after her, with the exapserated look of having chased her from next door. She had the blazer over her arm, and a hair brush and hair tie in her hand.

"Stand still," Christi said, finally catching her and working to pull Chloe's hair up into a ponytail. Chloe scrunched up her nose, looking irritated, but Christi held her still.

"Clo!" Charlie called, entering in after them with a new schoolbag in his hand and Lachlan, who was three, trotting after him. "If you're going to school, you have to remember to take your bag. Don't forget it."

"I don't wanna go to school!" Chloe complained. "It's boring."

"You haven't even tried it yet," Christi said. "Give it a chance."

"It's not boring," Catherine said, wandering in and heading straight for Scully. Catherine had attended the school for a year now, and had already excelled well beyond Christi's expectations. She had been placed in the gifted and talented program, and amongst many additional skills the program taught she was learning chess, debating, and an extended course in literature. As she put her schoolbag on the kitchen floor, her white program folder bulged out the top of it, stuffed with extended work. When word of the program had first reached Christi and Charlie's ears, via a meeting with the teacher, they had both hesitated. Charlie did not want to push his daughter, wishing her childhood to be full of fun and not homework, and Christi, unable to relate to the feeling whatsoever, had claimed it was all out of her league, and asked Scully and Mulder's opinion. Scully, after reading through the material and speaking with Catherine on one of their monthly sleepovers, had encouraged her to give it a try, on the proviso that she could drop out at anytime. Catherine, encouraged by Scully's attention and pride, had thrown herself into it. An added incentive was the fact that Scully allocated special time to give her on-one-one help with her homework, sessions which Charlie had labelled "Brain Gym with Aunt Dana". It was these sessions alone with her Aunt that Catherine clung to, along with the special sleepover at her house, which occurred once a month. And it was not merely for the love between the two that they did it, but also because the family knew that Scully could extend Catherine's intellectual abilities where the rest of the family couldn't.

Scully kissed Catherine's red hair as she put her arm around her. Catherine was looking particularly important today, having been charged with the task of looking after Chloe and Lily at school. Though Lily did not know it, Catherine was under special instruction to keep an eye on Lily, and to find the teacher if she spotted her looking at all distressed or anxious in the playground, or to simply play with her if she was alone.

"Wow," came Anne's voice. "Deja Vu."

She entered the room with Jack, smiling at the look of the nervous smiles on Lily and Chloe's faces.

"You look just like your Mom did on her first day of school," Anne continued, looking to Chloe. "Absolutely gorgeous."

Chloe grinned. She was young, but not stupid, and had already figured out that to look like her mother was the ultimate compliment. Christi, after giving birth to three kids, still had a figure that was as slim and stunning as it had ever been, and after six years of marriage Charlie still worshipped the ground she walked on, frequently telling her he was the luckiest man on Earth.

"And what do you think of Lil?" John asked proudly, eager that his own child should not miss out on the compliments.

"You look like a lady," Anne said, bending to kiss her on the forehead. "And I love the hair ..."

"Took them half an hour," Mulder said, his voice betraying the boring wait the remainder of them had endured in the kitchen.

"And worth every second," Jack said generously, hugging his granddaughter. "Just remember - no boys till you're at least eighteen."

This comment went over Lily's head, but she smiled at his affection nonetheless.

"Anyway," John said, "Take this."

He grabbed the lunch he had prepared for Lily and moved to add it to her schoolbag. On top of the bag was Purple Rabbit, who would be going with Lily to school, providing her with a sense of safety. Though she was vastly healed, her anxiety remained in sitautions of lots of strangers, and school certainly qualified. But they were nevertheless confident that she would be fine. She had Chloe in the same class - the two naturally best friends - and the family had had a meeting with the teacher and principal a week before, outlining her condition. They had also requested that no one bothered the kids about the survivors' histories. They did not want the girls to inherit the story and be potentially teased because of it, and there was also the fact that it upset Lily to hear about it, her condition making her extra sensitive to Monica's past. She loved her mother happy and healthy, and Monica obliged her, all four of them ensuring that when they had their sad moments, Lily had no chance of stumbling in on them.

"Photo time!" Christi called, beckoning the two young girls. "Come over here."

Lily and Chloe followed Christi across the room for a First Day photo, and in the kitchen Scully smiled to herself, watching the scene.

"It's hard to believe it's the same girl," she said.

"She looks happy," Mulder added. "You know, I think she'll be fine."

"Course she will," John added proudly.

There was a pause as Monica alone remained silent.

"Monica?" Scully prompted.

"I just can't get over how beautiful she looks," Monica confessed, tears in her eyes. "Inside and out."

"They're all lookers," Jack said, running his hand affectionately through Catherine's red hair. "We're gonna have every boy in the neighborhood swarming like locusts in a few years' time."

Monica nodded, but it had not been what she had meant.

"But she's happy," Monica added, a grin splitting across her face. "There's barely a trace of it in her."

"We told you once she wouldn't even remember," Scully reflected. "And I think that's becoming true."

Lily had been two and a half when it had all happened, and yet she did not remember it now, just as she did not remember half her early sessions with Dr. Saunders and Dr. Cassar. It was as if Lily possessed the anxiety without understanding why, found comfort in Purple Rabbit without knowing why, and was now looking ahead to her future instead of being tied down in its past. And the evidence of was in her radiance of happiness, her blue eyes smiling as she had her arm around Chloe's shoulders and Christi hit the flash.

"I'd hope there's barely a trace of it left in you, either," Anne added.

"Not of that," Monica said.

Scully did not feel like going back to the mountains that morning - she felt simply too happy and content where she was without dredging it all up again. And luckily, Monica wanted to forget it for a few hours too. She had Lily back, she had Nathan, who was also growing up fast, and they had all come through, and the dark clouds that had shadowed Lily's last few years were finally breaking up under a powerful radiant sun.

"It's all going to be okay," Monica added.

Scully nodded. "Personally, I never doubted it for a moment."