Meena had a lot on her mind.
She thought about the day's events as she waited for her mother to pick up on the other end. She was so engrossed in thought that she didn't hear the message that her call could not be completed as dialed. When she finally noticed that something was wrong, she was listening to the incessant beeping of a phone that was off the hook. She tried to call her parents again, this time by calling her father on his cell phone. She had dialed half of her father's phone number when she realized she couldn't get through. Frustrated, she glowered at the phone as it beeped and flashed the "low battery" message at her in an annoying taunt.
She had not expected this. She had not expected to be gone long enough to have her call phone die on her. She had not expected to be in Atlanta, and most of all, she had not expected to be mysteriously pregnant. But she was.
"I'd let you use mine if it weren't in the trunk in my suitcase," Andrew said when he reached her. "Stupid, I know. Doctors shouldn't leave their cell phones where they can't get at them." "Well, doctors shouldn't let their batteries die either," Meena replied. She turned off the cell phone, and put it in her purse. "Well, technically, you're not on call," Andrew replied.
The two doctors stood silently in the parking lot, both saying "what next?" by virtue of their silence. Dr. Covington was the first to speak. "I could go for a cup of coffee; I'm sure you could too..." "Pregnant women shouldn't drink coffee," she replied. Thinking that she had been too harsh, she quickly added, "But is suppose a glass of juice wouldn't hurt." "It's settled then," Andrew replied. "Why don't we take my car?" He reached for Meena's arm and she immediately withdrew. "I still feel that we should take separate cars," she said. Andrew looked directly at her. "Dr. Mulder," he began, "I realize I've asked a lot of you. But in light of our recent experiences... Especially in light of what we've just heard and witnessed... I just wonder if it's not time that we trust each other."
Meena returned his gaze with a hard and fast stare. "When that time comes, Dr. Covington, I'll let you know." Meena unlocked the driver's side door to her rental car, and got inside. As Dr. Covington left to find his car, Meena realized that she needed to re-adjust her steering wheel.
The space between it and her that was there earlier had vanished in an hour's time.
Meena pulled into a diner that was close to Dr. Broadstreet's office. She got out of the car and waited for Andrew to park. The first thing Meena noticed when they entered the diner was a display stocked with sunflower seeds. She picked out a large pack of unsalted sunflower seeds, and walked over to a booth. " M'am; you'll need to pay for those," demanded the cashier. "I'd like to put these on my tab," Meena replied. "We plan on eating." "Alright then, ma'm," replied the cashier, "your waitress will be with you shortly."
Meena opened the bag of sunflower seeds, and began eating them as soon as they sat down. She soon had accumulated a small mound of empty shells as she and Andrew waited for their waitress. "I've never seen many people make a meal out of plant seeds," Andrew commented. "You've clearly never met my dad," Meena replied. "My mom said she knew I was my father's daughter when I chose sunflower seeds over candy." Andrew smiled. "You're pretty close to your parents," he remarked. Meena nodded. "Some would say inordinately so. But I can honestly say that we have a really good relationship. I don't think there's not a thing we don't know about each other. Well, up until today," she added. "So, Dr. Covington," Meena continued, "what's your story?" "I'll tell you only if you call me Andrew," he replied. "Fair enough," Meena agreed, "if you'll call me Meena." "Is that what the "M" stands for?" Andrew asked. "The "M" stands for Melissa. My aunt. I never knew her; she died before I was born. That could be the reason my parents never called me by my first name. I guess it was too painful."
The waitress finally made her way over to their table, and they placed their order. The two continued their conversation when she left. "So tell me," Meena began, "what's the Andrew Covington story?" "Well, not too much interesting to tell," he replied. "What I know about myself, I had to pretty much discover on my own. I wasn't able to point to one person and say, 'oh, my Dad does that,' or "my Mom has a habit of doing this.'" "So you were adopted?" Meena replied. Andrew nodded. "Adopted and became an orphan and ward of the state in five short years. Bounced around from foster home to foster home. Lived an existence almost Dickensian in nature." "Did you ever try to find your birth parents?" Meena asked. "I found out that my mother died in childbirth," Andrew replied, "I don't know anything about my dad, and to be honest, don't really care to. He's had as much time to locate me. So far, nobody's been beating the proverbial path to my door." "I'm sorry..." Meena began. "Not your fault," Andrew answered, "isn't that how the old response goes?"
Meena didn't know how to respond to his last comment. Out of nervousness, she continued to eat sunflower seeds.
*********************************************************
The turmoil inside Mulder rolled like boiling water in a hot kettle. Mulder couldn't decide what was worse; not knowing where his daughter was, knowing his grandchild was also Krycek's grandchild, or being forced to trust Krycek in the hopes he would not end up standing beside his daughter's coffin. Kycek's entire demeanor grated and galled Mulder. The man responsible for his father's death and the death of his daughter's namesake acted as though the as-yet -unsubstantiated- fact that his daughter was pregnant by his son was enough to erase his culpability. A man who was, in effect, responsible for the death of seventy-five percent of the Mulder-Scully family tree.
"So tell me, Mulder," Kycek asked, "is blood really thicker than water?" "If your punk son laid a hand on my daughter..." Mulder began. Kycek's snide comment cut him off. "Why Mulder! How positively Victorian of you. How do you know I couldn't say the same of Melissa?" Mulder brought him back down to the ground with a backhanded hit. "Don't you ever defile that name again," He growled. Krycek raised a hand and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. "And just what am I supposed to call my grandchild's mother, Mulder? Because like it or not, she is carrying our grandchild." "You're full of shit, Kycek!" Mulder exclaimed. "Face the facts, old man," Krycek replied. "There is evidence, hard and fast evidence that Spender has drawn our children into this conspiracy as part of his agenda. And they are not the only ones. There are records of IVF procedures housed at Janus Pharmaceuticals - I've seen them. File upon file upon file of people who have been unwitting and unwilling pawns of the conspiracy for decades, and they've all ended up the same way; harvested for their DNA and then discarded - in barrels, in storage. Dead. "And I'm supposed to believe this. Just because you say this is so," Mulder replied. "I'm just supposed to trust you after a history that unfortunately includes more of you than I can stand." "You don't have a choice," Krycek replied. "I've got plenty of choices, Krycek. I can walk away from this right now and look for real leads." "Leads like the one in your family tree?" said Krycek. "Your daughter carries part of the alien-human hybrid in her genes, or did you conveniently forget that you passed that on to her? My son carries the black oil through DNA passed on through Marita. The facts are all there, Mulder, the motive is right in front of your face. Open your eyes..."
Their conversation was abruptly cut short when the drivers came back from their break. Hiding behind the tower of plastic pallets, Mulder and Krycek observed as the drivers moved the newly arrive barrels into storage. It was during this interval that Mulder wondered if he should trust Krycek after all. The agent in him strongly advised him to seek other options. The man who stood next to him had never given him any concrete reason to believe him, to trust him. The father in him told him that if it meant finding his daughter, trusting Krycek might be the only option he had.
In the end, he behaved like a father. He would have to take a chance and trust Krycek, at least for now.
The drivers left the loading dock one more time. In the interest of finding his daughter, Mulder was about to ask Krycek what they should do next when he felt a sharp, intense pain in his right arm. He turned to face Krycek and saw that he was holding a hypodermic needle in his hand. Mulder tried to reply in protest, but the world was growing increasingly dark. He reached out a hand to steady himself as he fell to the ground.
Mulder's last vision was that of Krycek standing over him.
"Not everything dies," Krycek said. "And if I can help it, neither will my son."