At that moment, Mulder made it his personal mission to use every bullet in his gun and in his possession to blow Jeffrey Spender into tiny bits. He fired at every appendage, every body part, every inch of his body he could cover, and Spender's body jerked like a marionette on a string. It was when he stopped to load the second clip in his weapon that he felt the searing, hot pain in his right arm. Spender had somehow managed to pull his weapon and fire off a shot at Mulder, hitting him in the right bicep. Mulder remembered at the moment something he had heard a long, long time ago.
You can't kill the devil.
Mulder aimed his gun at Spender when it happened. A bolt of lightning tore through the night and struck Spender. The force of the lightning strike knocked Mulder to the ground, and tore the gun from his hands; that same lightning strike forced Spender out of the turret with tremendous force.
It had, in effect, blown Jeffrey Spender straight back into hell.
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When Scully heard the first shot, it was as if she had been shot herself. She jerked upright and gripped the baby's crib. Her body shook with the second and third shots; and she was out of the baby's room and in the passageway when she heard the fourth and fifth shots. She ran; she ran faster than she ever had in life; she ran without regard for her own safety. She because she knew her husband was in trouble, and needed her. When Scully reached the end of the passageway, she didn't know where to turn. Ahead of her was an open stairwell, to her left was another hallway, and to her right was a window. It wasn't until she heard the last gunshot and the thunderclap that she knew where she needed to be.
Scully climbed slowly and cautiously up the stone steps. Her mind raced with thousands of possibilities and plans; of what she would do should she come face to face with Spender, of what she might see when she reached the top. She faced the possibility that her husband, daughter or both were dead.
She saw him as she rounded the bend in the stairs. Out of instinct, she reached for a gun that was not there, and when she realized her error, she froze. She didn't move until she heard him call her name.
"Scully..?"
He sat on the threshold between the door and the outside, the doorframe was the only thing that held him upright and steady. Between flashes of lightning, she could see the blood as it trickled slowly from a wound in his arm. Scully took the stairs two at a time until she reached him, kneeling down beside him to caress his face and gently touch his arm.
"Scully, I lost her...."
Mulder buried his head in Scully's shoulder and wept, choking on huge, wracking sobs as he gasped for air. The shock hit Scully like a blow to the head; she was dazed, she was speechless. The tears she tried to shed would not come. Mulder raised his head and took her face in his hands.
"Scully..."
The pain in his face matched the pain in her heart, and they sat there, motionless. Unable to speak, unable to feel, unable to cry. It was as they sat there trying to grapple with the loss of their daughter that they heard it. It started faintly at first, then grew louder as they strained to hear what it was.
It was the sound of someone sobbing. It was the sound of someone crying, whimpering...
"Help me, please. Please..."
Mulder pulled himself up, and ran over to the ledge. Scully followed him, reaching the ledge a few split seconds after he did. With the next flash of lightning, they saw them.
A pair of hands,. Meena's hands, as she clung with all her might to the ledge.
Without hesitation, Mulder and Scully grabbed Meena's wrists. "It's alright, baby," Mulder said as he helped Scully pull their daughter up and over the ledge. "We're here; Momma and Daddy are here. We're not going to let you go."
"Momma?!" Meena said as they pulled her up. "Momma, is it you?"
"Yes, baby," Scully replied. "I'm here. I'm here."
When her feet touched to solid cobblestones, Meena collapsed into her father's arms. The man whose face she couldn't see; the last person she couldn't remember was finally as familiar to her as her own name.
"Daddy," she said softly. "Daddy..."
Mulder, Scully and Meena held each other and wept as the rain washed away their tears.
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Lady Phoebe Elizabeth Greene Montague, Chief Inspector of Scotland Yard, was laid to rest with the highest of honors. Her body lay in state in a flag-draped casket at the Yard, and dignitaries from far and wide came to pay their final respects. In light of Lady Montague's extreme sacrifice, King William and his brother, HRH Prince Harry attended the funeral with their wives, and a royal decree was made by the king in Phoebe's honor. Mulder, Scully, Meena and her child attended the funeral not only as representatives of the United States and of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, but out of profound sense of duty and respect. They owed their lives to this woman, they knew that, and for that they were eternally grateful.
The family Mulder walked behind Phoebe's casket as it made its way from the Yard to Westminster Abby; they followed the casket after the funeral to the final resting place; they were the last people at the gravesite. Scully watched her husband as he stood there; she didn't know what to say, she didn't know what she should say. It was their grandson that broke the silence, fussing ever so slightly as they stood by Phoebe's grave. "I think I better take him back to the car," Meena said. "Will you guys be ok?" Mulder nodded slowly. Meena turned to go, but stopped to kiss each of her parents. "I love you," she said softly before she left.
Scully stood a while at her husband's side before she spoke. "Are you alright, Mulder?" she asked as she gently touched his arm. "Yes," he nodded slowly. "Yes, I think I am." Scully paused a moment before she spoke again.
"I should probably go.... Do you want me to leave you alone for a while?"
"No, Scully; don't leave. Please don't leave."
Scully stood beside him, and took his hand. "I'm afraid I'm not a very good person, Mulder," she said softly.
"I don't believe that, Scully."
"Well, I do. This woman gave her life for me; had it not been for her, I wouldn't be standing here with you. And yet I thought terrible things about her for so many years; I thought terrible things about her while we were under her roof. She made the ultimate sacrifice for me, for us. After all the things I thought."
Mulder gently squeezed his wife's hand. "It doesn't matter what you thought of her before," he said softly. "It's what you think of her now. And that makes all the difference."
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It was a few days before Mulder and his family boarded the airplane for home. Scully and Mulder thought it was best that they not fly back on the same flight that carried Drew and Krycek's remains. They would see to it that the two men would get the proper burial, but they thought it would be too hard on Meena to put her on the same flight with Drew. She had so many things to work through; it was going to be hard enough as it was. Mulder and Scully also didn't tell Meena about Jeffrey Spender. It was Mulder who received word that Spender's body had not been found, although they had dragged the moat for days. He wasn't going to tell Scully, but she knew him well enough to know he was hiding something. When she finally got the news out of him, they decided it was best that Meena never know.
It had always been his job to protect his family, and now Mulder knew he could never let his guard down again.
Mulder and Scully called ahead, and asked The Lone Gunmen and everyone to give them a couple of days when they got home. Everyone did as requested, and the first visit came from Byer's wife. "You have to understand," said the former Suzanne Modeski, "it is going to take a while for the toxicity to leave her system, even with the antidote. Her memory is going to come back in bits and pieces, and not necessarily in order. I want you to also consider the possibility of adjusting the antidote so that she has no memory of what happened during her abduction and while she was gone."
"No, Aunt Jackie," Meena said.
Unaware that she had entered the room, everyone turned to look at her. "They're my memories; good or bad. They are a part of me; they're a part of who I am. You erase them, you erase me. I know what you're trying to do, but no. No thank you."
And so, it was a grueling six weeks. There were many sleepless nights with many nightmares and night terrors as Meena began to remember it all. Mulder and Scully watched as Meena relived the pain of her abduction from the van and her two abductions from the hospital. They held her and cried with her as she relived the death of her newborn son and his funeral. They comforted her in the night when she woke up screaming, and finally, they stood there and watched with her in joy and amazement as she looked at the face of her son.
She had a long road to travel, but at the end of six weeks, the family Mulder knew it would be alright.
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"Plum and Tucker madness is upon us! August is here, and so are some of the best deals of the season!"
"Great; catch me next year," mumbled Mulder as he turned off the television set. He ran a finger under the scratchy color of his wool sweater. "You know, Skinner," he said as he turned to his friend and former boss, "we're just going to do this again in four months..."
"I came all the way up here from Florida with a fake Christmas tree strapped to the roof of my car to have the Christmas I didn't have with my godchild, and by God, I'm having the Christmas with my godchild I didn't have last year - that is, if you don't mind."
"Please, Walter; be my guest," Mulder smirked. "I'll just crank up the A/C a couple of notches. Maybe when the cold air meets the heat from the fireplace, we can have a white Christmas indoors. Either that, or a thunderstorm."
Anyone who wasn't part of the immediate Mulder family would have thought them all crazy had they stood in the living room. The house was decorated top to bottom for Christmas, complete with holly on the mantle and mistletoe in the doorways. "Care for a little holiday cheer, gentlemen?" Frohike stood in the doorway, a punchbowl full of egg nog, when Langly bumped into him. Scully saw the potential disaster as she came in from the kitchen, and made it over to Frohike just in time to prevent him and the carpet from wearing the bowl's contents. "I'll take that," Scully said as she grabbed the bowl. "As you wish," replied Frohike, "but only if I get what's coming to me."
"If she gave you what was coming to you," Langly scoffed, "you'd be flat on your back with a black eye."
Scully knew exactly what Frohike meant, and planted a huge kiss on his cheek. "Merry Christmas, Frohike," Scully smiled. "Why don't you go look in the mirror and tell me what you think of my new lipstick...?"
"I'm never washing my cheek again," Frohike said.
"Like you ever did," replied Langly.
"Uncle Langly, don't be mean to Uncle Frokee!"
All heads turned to face Meena as she stood in doorway. In her arms, she held her child; Mulder and Scully's grandchild. It was a sight many of them thought they would never see. Tears welled up in many an eye, and in Frohike's case, even went as far as to trickle down his cheek. "Great jumpin' Jehosephats!" he exclaimed. "Is that my little chickadee?"
"Yes it is," Meena replied. "I think now is as good a time as any to meet my son, Nigel."
Skinner leaned over and whispered into Mulder's ear. "Nigel, Mulder?"
"He's been through enough already," Mulder replied. "It's the only name he's known for over six months; we can't change his name now." Skinner sighed, "Well, I can tell I'm going to need to teach him how to fight..."
"And I can't?' Mulder said. Skinner looked him square in the face. "Your wife punches better than you, Mulder, and she's a girl."
The doorbell gave Mulder a much needed means of escape. "I'll get it," he replied, thankful for the diversion. Mulder pulled open the door, and got the shock of his life.
"So are you going to stand there and catch flies with that open mouth, or are you going to let me in?"
"Sure, Bill," Mulder finally said. "Come on in."
Scully went out into the foyer to greet their guest, and was as shocked and amazed as Mulder to see her brother standing there. "Don't tell me he's got you speechless too, Dana?" Bill Jr. groused. "No, Bill," replied Scully. "I think you've pretty much taken care of that, Bill. Why don't you come on in?"
Scully took her big brother's arm to lead him into the living room, leaving Mulder to stare wide-eyed at the sight. "That means you too, G-man," Scully called over her shoulder. "Who the hell was it that decided we should dress for Christmas in the middle of summer?" Bill complained as he walked in, "Your's, Mulder?" Skinner took one step forward, stopping right in front of Bill Jr. "Mine," he said firmly. "You got a problem with it?"
Meena turned around to face her uncle with a large smile on her face. "Uncle Bill! You came! I was really hoping you would."
"Why wouldn't I?" he replied. Mulder started to say something just as his wife elbowed him in the ribs. "Hey..!" he exclaimed, and Scully stared him down. "Don't start, Mulder," she cautioned him. "Just don't."
Meena handed Nigel over to her uncle. "Here's somebody I've been dying for you to meet, Uncle Bill. This is Nigel." As soon as he took Nigel in his arms, a transformation washed over Bill Scully, Jr. unlike anything any of them had seen. He cooed at the baby, talking in nonsensical gibberish that made the baby coo and smile with glee. "And whose idea was it to name you 'Nigel'?" Bill Jr. cooed? "That man my sister married?"
Before Scully could say anything, Mulder beat her to it. "I know, Scully; don't start. Just don't."
Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully Mulder, active retired, looked around her, and smiled. At that moment, she had no worries, she had no cares. She had her daughter, she had her grandson, she had her family, and her husband loved her. And at that moment, that was all that mattered.