Little Dana Foxwilliam Mulder knew more love in his short lifetime than most people know in fifty, and the people who gathered together to mourn his passing experienced a grief beyond measure, an unending bottomless sorrow that knew no bounds. The family closed ranks around Meena and each other, each member trying to understand how a God that was merciful could take a life before its fruition. All hoped in some way that the mercy and compassion of God; the love and understanding of a higher being would wash over them, help and comfort them.

And in time, help them understand.

Meena walked down the aisle towards the small, white casket, flanked on either side by her mother and father. As she walked, she looked at the people who came to the service. Each face the face of a loved one; each face with a memory and a story. Each face a part of her life. Each face she had hoped one day would be a part of her child's life.

But it wasn't meant to be.

Meena saw her "Uncle Frokee" as she walked, his eyes brimming with tears behind his thick glasses. She remembered what he had told her once. "Chickadee, as long as you don't call me Uncle Melvin, I'll give you everything your folks will let you have, and what they won't will be our little secret." How he would have loved his Great Uncle! The hours and days they would have spent discovering the wonders of the world around them.

But that would never happen. Not now; not ever.

A few rows ahead sat Uncle Walt. Before he was her Godfather, he had been her mother and father's boss. In time, he became their friend and staunch supporter. He was the third person to hold her after she was born. He was the second person to arrive to the house... After.... He came all the way up from Florida. He loved babies; her mother told her that once. He would have loved holding her son.

But that would never happen. Not now; not ever.

One of the last faces she saw was her Uncle Bill's. Although nobody ever mentioned it, she knew that he and her father did not get along. She never saw much of her Uncle, especially with her father. The few times she saw them in a room together, both men wore strained and forced expressions on their faces; forced smiles painted on their lips that looked like they would crack into a million pieces at any moment. For the first time ever in her life, she didn't see that expression on her Uncle Bill's face. Had her son lived, her Uncle Bill might have come to the house more often, eventually burying whatever animosity there was between him and her father long enough to know her son.

But that would never happen. Not now; not ever.

Meena and her parents stood in front of the small, white casket. It was closed, just as she had requested. She knew she would never make it through the service if she saw her child in the casket; she knew she would never make it if she had to watch as the lid was lowered, or if she had to lower it herself. For a second, she thought her knees would buckle until she felt her father's hand, sure, strong and steady, on her elbow holding her up. She felt her mother squeeze her hand, and she looked into her strong and gentle eyes.

Although Meena was raised Catholic, she requested an ecumenical service that reflect her mother's Catholic faith and her father's Jewish beliefs. They were both a part of her, and in turn, both a part of her son. Meena didn't hear the words at the service; all she could see were lips that moved, bodies that turned. It was as if she were watching the whole thing behind a soundproof glass wall. She didn't even realize the service had ended until they wheeled the small, white casket and stopped next to her. She stared at it blankly.

"Meena, sweetheart," her mother began. "We're right here," her father finished for both of them. Meena nodded, and stood up.

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

The gunmetal gray sky was heavy with the threat of snow as they made their way to the cemetery. The plot they had chosen was under a tall oak tree in the farthest corner of the land, away from everything else. It was a quiet place; a place that would give him and anyone who visited shade and comfort on sunny days, and protection from cruel and harsh winds.

It would protect and comfort Mulder's grandson for eternity.

Mulder's heart broke as he watched his daughter stand next to her child's grave. His heart broke as he looked at his wife. Only one other time in his life did he feel so helpless, so powerless.

One by one, the guests made their way back to their cars. In a few minutes, he, his wife, and their daughter stood next to the open grave. Alone. Meena picked a yellow rose from one of the funeral arrangements, knelt down, and gently tossed it onto her child's coffin. She stood up. The three of them stood silently next to the grave, each not willing or able to move. His wife, as always, was the stronger family member. She turned to go, and a few scant seconds later, he turned to follow her.

"Daddy...."

He and his wife turned around to face their daughter. Mulder wrapped his arm around Meena's shoulder, and she rest her head on his shoulder. Mulder wrapped his free arm around Scully's waist as she buried her head against his chest. At that moment, Mulder did the only thing he could think of .

He tilted back his head, closed his eyes, and silently prayed the Kadish, the prayer of remembrance for the dead.

He prayed in memory of his grandson.

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

A sky pregnant and heavy with snow finally gave birth to soft, glistening white flakes that fell to the earth below. Sparkling and white, gleaming and bright, they fell in steady succession, one after the other until they covered the ground in a fluffy blanket of white by the time the last of the funeral guests had left the Mulder residence. Mulder found his daughter where he knew she would be - in front of the window, watching it snow.

He remembered the first time he saw her in front of the window in this house, her special window. Mulder, Scully and their infant daughter lived in Scully's apartment for the first two and a half years of their daughter's life. When precocious little Meena discovered she could push a phone book over to the front door and open it, they decided they needed to have a house with a fenced-in yard, or at least a heavier front door. They spent the day driving around, looking at houses - not an easy thing to do with an almost three year old. The small family arrived at the last house at four on a Sunday afternoon, and were just tired enough to half-listen to the real estate agent go on ad infinitum on how this was the perfect house in a perfect neighborhood - just right for a new family. The couple was ready to leave when they realized Meena wasn't with them. Scully raced for the stairs while Mulder looked on the ground floor.

He found his little girl standing in the den, tippie-toed up to her highest height with hands on the windowsill, watching it snow.

Mulder, not wanting to disturb or frighten her, slowly walked up to her and knelt down. When he reached her, she turned to face him with sparkling amazement shining in her hazel eyes.

They signed the papers that afternoon, and the first modification Mulder made on the house was to enlarge the window in the den. In the years to come, the large picture window in the den was Meena's spot. She went there when she was happy; she went there when she was sad. It was here that Mulder found her after the last guest had left. He walked over to her slowly so as not to disturb her. When he stood next to her, he noticed that she touched the glass, almost as if she were reaching out for something. Someone. The stood there in silence for a brief eternity before she spoke.

"He would have loved the snow," she said quietly. "I know," Mulder replied. "His mother loved it." "Oh Daddy, you should have seen him," Meena said. "His tiny little fingers were perfectly formed; his tiny little feet. He had the softest eyelashes that curled almost into a perfect spiral... He was perfect. How does a baby so perfect, so beautiful, so alive... How does he die?" Meena turned to look at her father. The pain in her eyes sliced through his heart like cold steel. "This family will never bury another child. I promise you that," Mulder said.

For the first time since her baby's death, Meena cried.

Mulder embraced his daughter as the tears came slowly at first, and held her tighter as they poured out of her in racking, gasping sobs. He couldn't help but shed a few tears himself. He held her as long as he needed to; he held her until her tears stopped.

Scully went into the den to look for Mulder and Meena, and found the two of them huddled together in front of the picture window. She stood in the doorway, but did not go in. Scully knew Meena loved both of them, but she knew that Mulder and Meena shared a bond unlike any other. There would be time enough for Scully and her daughter later.

Mulder held Meena in his arms. She had stopped crying for now, and was silent. He could feel the warm dampness of her tears as they soaked his shirt. Meena was quiet, very quiet and still. After a few seconds, Mulder checked to see if she had cried herself to sleep.

"Meena...? Sweetheart?" he began.

She didn't answer.

"Meena?" Mulder slowly pulled his daughter away from his chest. When he saw her face, his blood ran cold.

Blood was running from her nose, trickling down her face in a steady stream. Her eyes had rolled back into her head. In the next instant, he looked down and realized his shirt wasn't stained with her tears....

....It was stained with her blood.

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

"I NEED A GURNEY AND A DOCTOR IN THE PARKING LOT, STAT!"

Scully ran into the emergency ward of Georgetown General Hospital, and was met halfway down the corridor by the Chief Medical Resident. "Where's the problem?" the doctor asked. Scully grabbed her by the arm, and began to lead her out to the parking lot. "The patient is 23;" Scully began, "there's evidence of cerebral hemorrhaging. Her pulse is thready; blood pressure is dropping rapidly..."

The double doors swung open to reveal Mulder as he carried their daughter in his arms. "Help! We need help! I need a doctor...." Scully ran up to her husband, the doctor and emergency team following in her wake. "OK - let's get her on a gurney and into an examining room," the doctor ordered. "Who are you to this woman?" the doctor asked as they rushed through the hallway. "I'm her father," Mulder replied, "this is my wife. Please. You've got to help her..." "We'll do everything we can...," the doctor began...

Suddenly, Meena's body stiffened and went into violent convulsions. The medical team began to run faster..

"She's seizing up, people, let's get a move on!" The doctor yelled as she shoved the curtain to the emergency bay out of the way. As they wheeled Meena in, Mulder felt someone grab his arm.

"Folks," the nurse said, "I'm going to have to ask you to wait out in the waiting area..." Scully stopped. "I'm a medical doctor; I was with her when the incident occurred. I want to be with her - I can help her..."

Scully and Mulder watched as a crash cart was wheeled in during the melee. "Nurse," the doctor ordered, "show her where she can scrub up, and tell her she needs to be quick about it."

The last thing Mulder saw before they shut the curtain was Meena on the examination table and his wife's face. "Help her," he mouthed.

Scully nodded before the curtain obscured them both from his sight.

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

Time moved slowly as Mulder waited for news. The nurse had brought him a scrub shirt, but he didn't want to change the shirt he was wearing. It was the last thing Meena had touched before she... It was the closest he could be to her right now, and he wasn't going to give that up.

Mulder paced the floor until his feet ached; walked the corridor until his legs throbbed in pain. Only when he could no longer move did he sit down in the waiting area. He stared at the double doors, willing them to open; willing Scully and his daughter to come through them so that they could go home. Together. He was at the point of exhaustion when he finally sat down and unaware of how tired he was. Despite his best efforts, he drifted into semi-sleep.

He was in a field filled with bright wildflowers. The sun shone high and bright in a cloudless and clear blue sky. He heard laughter coming from a distance....

"Fox! Fox! Where are you?"

He looked to his left, and in the distance, saw a young girl in pigtails, She sat in a swing tied to a massive tree branch, and was swinging as high as she could go. Suddenly, she let go of the swing and became airborne. Mulder ran towards her as she floated to earth. "Samantha?" he called.

"Fox! Fox! Come quick!"

Mulder ran towards the little girl, but as he got closer, the little girl changed. As he ran towards the girl, he realized it wasn't his sister at all, but his daughter; his six year-old daughter running and leaping through the flowers.

"Daddy! Daddy! Come quick!"

"Meena? Meena; I'm here!" Mulder called back. He ran faster, but instead of getting closer to his little girl he was moving father and farther away.

"Daddy?"

Suddenly, his daughter - his grown-up daughter was behind him. He turned to face her.

"Daddy, don't forget me."

She suddenly began to move away from him. He reached out to catch her, but could not.

"Meena! Meena!" Mulder called out to her, trying to stop her, but she moved away until he was left standing in the field alone.

"Mulder...?"

Mulder awoke with a start. Scully was kneeling in front of him. Her eyes brimming with tears.

"I couldn't... We did everything...."

Two tears coursed their way down either side of her face. Mulder reached out, and gently cupped her face in his hands.

"She's gone. She's gone."

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

Mulder and Scully held each other in the waiting area. Both grieved for the loss of their child with a pain so unimaginable they were certain it would kill them, and prayed that it would. Their hopes and dreams for the future, their memories of the past all taken away in the span of a few short hours. They rocked back and forth; him rocking her and her him in an effort to comfort a pain that knew no comfort. After a while, Mulder spoke. "I want to see her. Can we see her?" "Mulder," Scully began. "I know what I'm walking into," Scully replied, "but I want to see her. Now. Not in a coffin. Just us. Just us."

Scully gently took Mulder by the hand, and led him to the emergency bay. It was unusually quiet, as if all activity had ceased in respect for the recent dead. The curtain was drawn, and Scully stopped in front of it before she opened it. Mulder nodded, and she pulled back the curtain.

The orderlies had not pulled the sheet over Meena's face, and it rested just under her chin, tucked in as though she were asleep. Her still and quiet face betrayed nothing of the struggle and pain she had been through. She looked peaceful. Mulder walked over and stood next to her body and touched her face.

It was still warm.

Mulder knelt down next to her, resting his head against her forehead, and wept. Scully knelt next to him, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, it was as much to comfort herself as it was to console him. As Mulder laid his head on his daughter's forehead, he noticed something strange. Her forehead, his dead daughter's forehead, was becoming increasingly warm. Almost hot to the touch. Startled, Mulder raised his head. "Mulder? What is it?" Scully asked. "Something's wrong, Scully..."

The two of them quickly discovered what. They watched in horror as their daughter's body quickly decomposed into a gelatinous, green mass.