*****

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

*****

"This is the end, my beautiful friend"

***

The land was green with corn and the evening wind was cooling and soft with a gentle ebb and flow. The sun was just inching below the horizon to the west. It was a perfect night.

Scully curled her bare toes into the soft grass, feeling the blades bend and straighten, furl and unfurl. The red-orange sun was so big out here. It almost consumed the sky.

The air was silent of birds. The only sound was the creak of wood upon wood behind her.

"It's been a time since we visited, Dana."

Scully spun around, her toes ripping into the tender sod. Mother Abagail was sitting on the front porch of her old Nebraska home, rocking back and forth in her ancient chair.

"Mother Abagail? But how..." Scully was speechless.

"Yes, child. I went home to the Lord just after you and your man left Boulder. But we still have some unfinished business," Mother Abagail motioned her to come over.

Scully walked over and sat on the porch steps, at Mother Abagail's old feet. The woman reached out a bony hand and Scully took it in her own.

"You've done well, child. You obeyed God's will and He delivered you from evil."

Scully smiled, her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. "We found Matthew," she said softly.

"And he's a precious one, child." She placed a finger under Scully's chin, raising her face. "He favors you, I think." She pulled her hand back into her lap, a darkness crossing her face. "But you've got hard choices to make ahead. The Dark Man is still out there. God will deal with him, it's not your battle to fight."

"How?" Scully asked.

"That's not for me to say. But you must still be careful. Watch out for your new family there. Danger lies in the days ahead. No one must leave the area of refuge God has provided you for twelve days. Then, those who are destined to leave must go."

"What do you mean, Mother Abagail? I don't understand..."

"You will, child. You will..."

Scully's vision dimmed around the edges. The old woman was getting further away...she could just hear her voice.

"Twelve days, Dana. Remember. Watch the skies..."

***

The Compound
September 19
0900 Hours


Scully awakened slowly, the fingers of awareness tapping insistently across her face. Her head felt like a thousand hippos were doing the Macarena in her brain. Where was she? Oh yeah. She could smell the cement of the underground room. There was a slight buzzing noise coming from one of the overhead fluorescent lights. She could feel the scratchiness of the army blanket that covered her.

She remembered finding Spender dead. And Mulder and J.D. doing burial detail. And she could recall falling asleep a little while later with Mulder after he had placed an ice pack against her head.

Now there was a dead weight rolled against her left thigh. Keeping her eyes closed, she reached out with a limp arm. Fur. Not Mulder. She sighed. At least Fluffy wasn't in her face.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Mulder's voice was soft from across the room.

She opened her eyes as he sat down beside her, the bed sagging under the added weight. Mulder reached out and smoothed the hair back from her face. She didn't miss how his hand lingered on her forehead, checking for fever. And she didn't miss the white bandage that was wrapped around his wrist. *That's right.* She had put it there. *Damn handcuffs.* Now she could feel the rawness under the matching cocoon of gauze around her own wrist.

"How ya' feeling?" He asked.

"Like I got kicked in the head..." she whispered, her voice dry.

"What a coincidence, huh?" Mulder half-joked. He reached for a glass of water on the table beside the bed. He helped her raise up, take a long sip of water.

"Thanks. How's your arm?" She squinted against the bright light to look at his bandaged bicep.

"Fine. My doctor did a good job with the stitches," Mulder smiled. "You feel up to some food?"

Her stomach rumbled at the mention of food. Scully looked around the room. With no outside light, it was hard to mark the passage of time. "What time is it?"

"A little after nine," he responded.

"I guess I missed dinner," she commented, braving her headache to sit up a little more.

"Scully, it's nine o'clock in the morning. You missed dinner *and* breakfast."

She was stunned.

"Where's Matthew?"

"He's with Roberta."

Scully tried to hide the tiny stabs of pain Mulder's reply caused. She hated to admit to herself that she was jealous.

She ran her hands across her face, being careful of the sore spot on the side of her head. Fluffy roused from his comfortable perch, sitting up and nudging her arm. She looked through her fingers and stared at the dog.

"What is Fluffy doing here, Mulder?"

"Making sure you get some rest. You were running on adrenalin yesterday, Scully. I'm not surprised at all that you conked out after all that you did. Getting up before the crack of dawn for a raid, creeping through the desert with your crazy partner, taking part in the Celebrity Deathmatch, taking care of Spender, me, Fluffy...listening to the load Spender dumped on us. I was shocked you made it as long as you did. After you crashed, J.D. and I decided to do some...um...'clean-up' in the hallways. Roberta took Matthew away from the mess. And Fluffy volunteered for 'Scully Watch.'"

Scully shook her head. "No, Mulder. I mean, what is Fluffy doing *here?* He and J.D. were supposed to stay put..."

Fluffy barked every time his name was mentioned. Scully tried not to wince. Hoping to quiet him, she reached out and scratched his ears. She ran her hand down to his leg, checking the bandages there. The swelling was pretty much gone.

"I know. I guess we all forgot to convince the *dog* what was best for him. J.D. says he went nuts about eight hours after we left. Wouldn't leave him alone until they got in the car and followed after us. But he seems to be no worse for the wear." Mulder paused. "There's a lot we need to talk about. Bring you up to speed."

"You've talked to J.D. and Roberta? What did you tell them? Did you tell them what Spender said?" She asked warily.

"Bits and pieces. Just the basics," he commented. He could see the worry on Scully's face. Even after the downfall of the modern world, she was still a private person. "Don't worry. I just told them the general story. I was worried that if I gave any more detail they'd think I was crazy."

Scully snorted a small laugh, in spite of her mixed emotions.

"But as Roberta said to me, 'Six months ago I woulda had you locked up for a good long psych evaluation. But now, considering we all ended up here because of our mutual visions of an old rocking chair woman from Nebraska and a man in pointy boots who is evil incarnate -- Gee. I guess that *sane* is a relative term.'" Mulder laughed as he remembered the look on Roberta's face. He could believe that she had been a street cop.

He thought Scully would smile at the story, but her face was lined with worry instead. "What's up?"

"Mother Abagail," she softly replied. "I just talked to her."

Mulder's eyes widened. "It looks like we both have a lot to talk about."

"She gave me a warning -- kind of," Scully took Mulder's hand.

"What about?"

"About leaving here. About *any* of us leaving this area." She saw Mulder's puzzled look. "We need to go find Roberta and J.D. to talk about this. I really don't want to explain it more than once."

Mulder reluctantly nodded and helped her out of bed.

***

Topside
1030 Hours


Roberta sat against the building wall, nursing her freeze-dried coffee and powdered creamer that had never been anywhere near a cow, trying to wrap her brain around everything Scully had told them.

She was fucking tired of Mother Abagail's riddles. She had never even met the old woman. And she was damned sick of this hole in the ground. It would be so easy just to get up in the middle of the night, grab one of Spender's many vehicles, and take off for parts wherever.

She picked up a rock and threw it. *Shit.* She knew she couldn't leave. Didn't have it in her to abandon those she had to come to care for. Twelve more miserable, freakin' days.

J.D. was off playing some mutant form of baseball with Matthew and the "No Stinkin' Snakebite's Gonna Keep Me Down" Fluffy. Unfortunately, the dog kept picking up the ball and turning the game into catch-me-if-you-can. J.D. had just dropped the stick of a bat and was chasing Fluffy. Matthew seemed to be running interference for Fluffy, blocking J.D.'s every move. Finally, with a great roar, J.D. charged Matthew and picked him, flipping the giggling little boy over his shoulder. He dropped to his knees and fell onto his butt, letting the boy win the wrestling match. J.D. held up his hands in surrender.

Roberta laughed. J.D. looked her way. As Matthew rolled off his stomach and ran to catch Fluffy, J.D. stood slowly, his hands supporting his now aching back. He called out to Matthew, "I gotta take a break, kid. You and the dog stay right around here!" And he headed over to Roberta.

"Is this seat taken?" He asked.

She gestured for him to sit. "Knock yourself out."

"I think I just about did that," J.D. replied as he sat with a groan, using the wall for some extra support.

Roberta tilted her head toward Matthew and Fluffy, who were now running around in circles. It was impossible to tell exactly who was chasing who. "Looks like you made two friends for life there," she commented.

J.D. nodded. He worked his neck, trying to get rid of the kinks. But Roberta knew he was very aware of her gaze.

"Pretty remarkable for a guy with your background..." she continued.

J.D. froze for just a moment. "What do you mean by that?" he asked. His face became more guarded.

Roberta shrugged. "I watched you yesterday...handling the dead bodies, dealing with the weapons. You scream 'ex-military.' I'm guessing Army Rangers or Marines."

"Is that so?" J.D. asked.

"But it's more than that. The way you sat through our 'briefing' this morning with Scully and Mulder. The way you stand -- with one foot back -- in a classic 'field interrogation' stance. The way you watch everyone. And the way you talk. That accent. You were NYPD." She surmised.

J.D. held his breath, let it out slowly. "Well. Don't we all make quite the quartet. And they said law and order was dead today."

"So what was the big deal? Why the secrets?" Roberta leaned forward.

J.D. sighed. "Let's just say I don't have the most pleasant memories."

"You and me both," Roberta muttered.

"And, I wasn't quite sure how to bring it up with Mulder and Scully." He stopped and Roberta gave him the *go on* look. "I mean, they had already admitted to me they were FBI agents. I shoulda told them then that I was FBI, too."

"Why the hell didn't you? Still embarrassed over J. Edgar's dresses?"

"I don't know. I guess I still thought I could leave the past behind...*that* life is over now. I *want* it to be over," he admitted.

"So, how's it feel?"

"How's what feel?" J.D. puzzled.

Roberta smiled. "To be able to breathe again now that you got all that weight off your chest?" Unconsciously, she reached out and put her hand on his chest.

J.D.'s eyes narrowed at her touch. Roberta could see it in the turn of his mouth. There was a spark he hadn't felt in a long time. In an instant, he was seeing Roberta Parks in a new light. And she felt a connection she had forgotten could exist. Years of self-imposed exile could do that.

"I'd say," he started slowly, "that it feels like a good way to start."

"Good," Roberta nodded. "Then let's continue." She held out her hand and he took it. She shook them up and down in greeting. "Hi. My name is Roberta Parks."

He smirked. He could play, too. "Nice to meet ya'. And my name is John Doggett."

***

Commissary
1030 Hours


Mulder looked out from the kitchen to watch Scully. She was holding an ice pack to the side of her head. It was going to be one spectacular bruise.

But he knew the source of her pain lay elsewhere. She refused to talk about it. He wanted to tell her that he understood. He desperately wanted her to talk to him. To let him carry some of her frustration and grief.

So he waited for the right signal. The opening. And he puttered around in the kitchen prep area, making Egg Beater omelets with frozen bell peppers and onions. Thank god Spender liked to eat halfway decent food and he stocked his commissary accordingly.

When the omelets were folded and the orange juice poured, Mulder walked into the dining area with two steaming plates. Scully did not even look up until he placed a plate in front of her.

"Eat up. You're getting a Mulder specialty this morning."

Scully examined the food. Deciding it might be edible, she lifted her fork with her free hand and began to pick at the omelet. The ice pack had begun to leak, little trails of water were making their way down to her jaw.

"Here. Let me get you a fresh pack," Mulder said as he took the pack from her hand. "You eat while I'm gone."

She nodded and shoveled the eggs up to her mouth mechanically.

When he returned a few minutes later and handed her the new pack, she had managed to eat about half of the omelet. She lifted the ice to her head. As he stared at her plate, Mulder decided it was time to talk, signal or no signal.

"You know, it's going to hurt no matter what you do."

She took another bite of omelet, swallowed. "The ice dulls the pain," she responded evenly. She took another bite.

"You know what I meant. And I wasn't talking about your head," Mulder countered.

She shot him a hard glance. "Of course I know what you meant. My answer is the same."

"Jesus. Talk to me Scully. I'm here for you. Tell me how I can help..."

"Damnit, Mulder!" She slammed her fists on the table, dropping both her fork and the ice pack. "What am I supposed to say? I finally get to this godforsaken place and find my nephew and then I find out that I'm condemned to stay here or die. You know I can't keep Matthew here when he has a chance of a happy life in Boulder. You know that all I want to do right now is hold him, play with him, never let him out of my sight. But how can I do that to him when I know I'll be sending him away? So, instead, I push him away. I let some stranger care for him, watch his every move."

Mulder tried to choose his words carefully. "Scully," he reached across the table and took her hands in his. "We don't know everything about this place yet. Who knows? We might be able to rig that transmitter and take it on the road..."

"The last time I checked, neither one of us had a degree in electronics, Mulder. You can barely program a VCR..."

Mulder winced. He didn't need to be reminded how he had called her in to save the day on that one. He couldn't help it if he never read an instruction manual in his life. "Okay, Scully. I'll give you that. But. That doesn't mean there isn't someone in Boulder who *can* do it. You can't give up hope. We still have, what? Twelve days before anyone can leave here. That's twelve days we can explore everything in this place, learn as much as we can."

Scully closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I know that Mulder. But it's too much to hope for. If Spender had wanted the device to be portable, I think he would have done it -- given what he told us yesterday. He wanted us to stay here."

What could Mulder say to that? Scully could see through false promises. And he had a hunch that she was right. Spender never would have made it easy for them to get away.

"God, I hate being trapped here," Scully muttered.

"What?" Mulder asked.

"I hate being tied down. The funny thing is... You know, my apartment in D.C.? I lived there longer than anywhere else is my life. I think I never felt tied down there because our work always kept us on the road. I was never *in* my apartment for long. I've never *wanted* to be tied down to anyone or anything..." She paused when she saw Mulder's hurt look.

"Mulder. I'll always be *committed* to you. But you've never tied me down..."

"Ooooooh, that gives me ideas, Scully," Mulder suggested in his most lecherous voice.

She smacked his arm lightly. "You know what I mean. And now, for the first time in my life, I *want* those ties that root me to one place. I want Matthew and a home. But *this* place is not a home and it never will be."

Mulder stood up and moved around to Scully's side of the table. He leaned over and picked the ice pack up from the floor. He sat down beside her and gingerly lifted the pack to her face. When Scully tried to take hold of the pack, he brushed her hand away.

"All I can promise you, Scully, is this. I will always be here for you. We may send Matthew to Boulder before us, but I will *never* stop searching for a way for us to follow. I want that home, too."

He put the ice pack down and cradled her face with both hands. "I love you, Scully. Don't ever lose sight of that." He leaned forward and brushed her forehead with his lips. He kissed her bruised cheek. Her nose. Then he lingered on her lips, tasting her omelet, then her fear, and, at last, her trust.

Their kiss drifted to a close and he ran his thumb across her lips.

"Now. I think it's time we told Roberta and J.D. about this. We owe it to them."

She nodded. "Let's wait until dinner, okay? I really just want to get back in bed and take a nap."

"It's a deal. C'mon. I'll tuck you in." He stood, offering her a hand, and they headed back to their room.

***

September 24
1000 hours


Over the days, Scully had taken up residence in the labs, investigating every piece of data and research she could find. She wasn't finding anything very useful. But it was her excuse to avoid contact with Matthew and Roberta. J.D., or *John,* had been neutral territory. He was safe for he seemed as guarded as she was. She only brushed him off when he suggested that she was spending too much time in Spender's office. Good thing the compound was big enough for everyone to find their own space.

And Mulder. Mulder had his own plan to distract her. He seemed to have sex on his mind twenty-four hours a day now that she was back to normal health. Okay, so the rendezvous in the janitorial supply closet had been interesting. She had a feeling that, from now on, every time she smelled Mr. Clean she was going to have to get down and dirty real quick.

*

Roberta spent her time trying to get Scully to interact with her nephew. But Scully was damned stubborn. Roberta could empathize with the woman. She knew how she felt when Matthew had recognized his aunt. She felt like her guts were being ripped out through her very constricted throat.

But now that she knew the truth -- that Scully had to stay in this stinking hole until they found a solution, that Scully was entrusting Matthew to her...she had realized how silly her feelings had been. Matthew had plenty of room for *all* of his new parents. That boy bounced back faster than a Superball shot out of a canon.

And someday, when he was old enough to understand, he needed to know how hard his aunt had fought for him. He needed to have memories of her until they could be both be in Boulder. Now if she could just make Scully understand that.

And now if she could just keep the little imp away from the intercom system they had discovered. But the damn units were everywhere and Matthew loved the buttons.

*

Fluffy just amused himself by moving from room to room all day, watching everyone do their own thing. And since none of them were talking too much to each other, it also meant he got more than his share of treats. He had a pretty good route worked out. Hit the commissary in the early morning with Roberta and Matthew. Head over to the lab where Scully was eating. Then head back to the commissary for a Mulder breakfast. He was going to become one fat, happy dog. He got to play with Matthew in the afternoon. And if Mulder and Scully answered the door when he scratched at night, he got a nice bed. If they ignored him, he went to find John. It was a pretty good life.

*

Days of work had netted some interesting finds. Lots of guns and ammo, enough equipment to survive a nuclear war, decontamination areas, and radios of all types out the wazoo. But Mulder and John had gotten tired of their assigned job of listing inventory. So, today they had been exploring. And they had found new toys. Spender hadn't just stored a few Jeeps in the compound. No. In a bay they now called the "aircraft carrier" because of the lift that went up through the ceiling, carrying vehicles to ground level...there were Humvees. One even had a CD player complete with a Rolling Stones CD.

The two men had their plan when they headed in to the commissary for a mid-morning snack. The fact that everyone else was there at the moment, made the plan easier.

"When Scully and I headed down here," Mulder began nonchalantly, "We transferred everything from the Expedition into the Suburban. But we parked the Suburban back out on the highway. We left all of our gear -- and most importantly, all of the Fluff..."

Fluffy barked and jumped.

"...back in the Suburban. And now, here we find a fleet of lovely Humvees. The way I figure it, who are we to look a gift all-terrain super vehicle in the mouth?" He and John innocently shrugged.

Roberta rolled her eyes.

"Go." Scully conceded. She knew it was pointless to stand between a man and his toys. "You boys go out and play rough and drive your big car and get it out of your system. Just remember not to go out too far," she reminded them as she thought of Mother Abagail's warning.

"Okay, Mom!" Mulder answered.

John and Mulder were all grins. Scully could just imagine the wrestling match that was going to take place over the keys. Mulder walked over to Matthew and picked him up, holding him high in the air. "Whaddaya say, kid? Feel like going for a ride?"

"Yesssss!" Matthew yelled, clapping his hands. As they headed out the door, Matthew called, "Fluffy!" And the dog was hot on their trail.

Scully and Roberta shared the look of women everywhere who have experienced the strange rituals of male bonding.

"Oh, brother," Roberta murmured. She looked down at her "snack." A peanut butter sandwich made courtesy of the warehouse sized tub of chunky peanut butter in the large pantry. There were lots and lots of tubs. All of them crunchy. Not one damn Smooth Jif in the lot. The bastards.

"God," she moaned. "I would kill for an In-n-Out burger. A double-double with cheese oozing over the sides with their special sauce and their homemade fries on the side. And a chocolate shake to wash it all down..."

Scully looked at her own sandwich. Made of cold, individually wrapped cheese product. She dropped it onto her plate. "Cool Ranch Doritos..." she dreamed.

Roberta nodded vigorously. "And the only thing that gets rid of Dorito breath is..."

"Chocolate," they said together.

"I miss my vanilla bubble bath..." Scully mused.

Roberta fingered the strands of her hair. The line of demarcation from her last coloring job was so clear it was Bride of Frankenstein-like.

Scully saw the look. "Oh don't even get started on hair..." she moaned.

Roberta rolled her eyes in agreement. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I used to mark dates in my life by 'B.C.' and 'A.D.'."

The *huh?* look on Scully's face was classic.

"Before Clairol and After Dyeing," Roberta explained.

They both laughed for awhile. And then the laughter faded and was replaced by an emptiness. Neither of them liked to dwell on what had been lost. It was too debilitating.

"I know what you're doing, Dana," Roberta broke the solemn silence.

"What are you talking about?"

"This whole building a wall between you and Matthew thing is what I'm talking about."

Scully was deathly silent.

"I think it's a mistake you're going to regret," Roberta said softly.

Soft was not a tone that normally came from Roberta. Scully wasn't sure what to say. She sighed. "I don't know what the right thing is anymore."

"I think," Roberta countered, "that your brother would have just wanted you to love Matthew for each moment you have."

Scully's eyes widened in surprise. "I never told you he was my brother's son..."

Roberta seriously considered trying to cover her trail. But she lowered her head. She had to be honest. Dana Scully had been in law enforcement. And in the lovely "breaking bad news" police training course, they teach you how to tell the news to different sorts of folks. There's a special category for cops. It's called compassionate bluntness. Leave no unanswered questions. Shit.

"Your brother and his wife died protecting Matthew..." And so she began the story of a motel in California and how her journey began. And how Matthew had entered her life.

"Thank you for telling me, Roberta," Scully whispered, her voice hoarse with tightly restrained emotion.

"I'm glad I finally did. I think you needed to remember how precious every moment is. No matter what the outcome may be."

Scully bit her lower lip and nodded.

"Now," Roberta said in her usual loud voice. "How 'bout we get us some of that crappy coffee with that white powdery shit and then try and find some ice cream?"

The freezer did not yield any Rocky Road. But there was chocolate.

***

September 30
1900 Hours


Scully was on edge and it was bleeding over into the moods of everyone else, even Fluffy. Mother Abagail's "twelfth day" was drawing to a close, but there had been no sign. No burning bushes, no giant billboards, no dove of peace, no bluebird of evil. Zilch. Nada.

They all watched her as she paced. Twelve steps to the counter. Turn. Twelve steps to the door. Fluffy followed in her every step, looking up expectantly at every turn to see if this one was the last.

Roberta was trying to ignore the other woman while drawing alphabet stick men with Matthew at a corner table.

"Scully, will you please sit down?" Mulder begged from his chair in the commissary. "You've been bouncing back and forth like a game of Pong for hours."

Scully stopped pacing, instead going over to the serving counter and grabbing a handful of popcorn from the basket J.D. had prepared. She didn't even look at the kernels as she began to systematically nibble, one kernel at a time.

They all stared at her strange behavior as John leaned over to whisper in Mulder's ear. "Why don't you take her topside? Get some fresh air."

Mulder silently nodded his agreement. He stood, walked over to Scully's side and placed his hand firmly on her shoulder. "C'mon, Scully. Let's go for a walk."

She looked up at him mutely, worry lines creasing her forehead.

"Please," Mulder leaned in to whisper. "If for no other reason than to give Fluffy's paws a break."

Scully looked down at the dog. She had no idea the mutt was acting as her shadow the whole time. "Oh." She dropped her popcorn leftovers to the floor for Fluffy to crunch up and she let Mulder lead her by the hand.

"We'll see you guys later," Mulder called over his shoulder as they exited the room.

They arrived at the surface a few minutes later. Mulder wedged a rock in the door to keep it from closing completely. He never fully trusted those electronic locks.

"I'm sorry, Mulder," Scully rubbed her arms as she felt the breeze of the cooling desert. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her neck. "I just can't help but feel that we're on the edge. Something is going to happen. Mother Abagail said it would."

Mulder nodded, his hair brushing against the side of her face. "Whatever it is, Scully, it's beyond our control." He turned her around to face him. "But. I also know that something or someone has protected us this far. Maybe I'm just getting carried away with this whole 'fate' thing, but I can't believe we'd get this far, find Matthew...only to get zapped."

"Zapped?" Scully smiled.

Mulder shrugged. "You know what I mean. Besides. We've made it through together. That's all that matters in my book."

He leaned forward and his lips brushed hers. When she looked into his eyes and he saw her reassurance, her renewed confidence, he went back for seconds. A greedy portion.

The blinding bright explosion of light flooded the sky, flaring through their closed eyelids.

They broke apart, but Mulder held her closely by the arm. They stared at the growing cloud to the southeast.

"What the f..." Mulder gasped.

"Oh my go..." Scully whispered.

Before they had finished their words, the ground began to rumble and rock, knocking them both to the ground. Mulder rolled to his side, determined to reach Scully. As he threw his arm over her back, he glanced over his shoulder and he almost screamed. He could *see* the blast wave as it hurtled toward them from the mountains on the horizon. It was dark brown, filled with sand and debris. It was every "Duck and Cover" atomic nightmare from his childhood. Nightmares filled with the deceptively slow-speaking but demonic Bert the Turtle.

"Run!" Mulder shouted as he scooped Scully to her feet. He pushed her toward the building just a few feet away. But she stopped short and he plowed into her. Oh god. The rumbling had knocked the rock loose. The door was sealed shut. No time for the keypad.

Scully had seen the hurricane of dirt, too. She grabbed Mulder by the arm and pulled with all her strength. They dove behind the north side of the building, Mulder sandwiching Scully between himself and the base of the building. He wrapped one arm around Scully and the other arm around his head.

**

When Mulder and Scully had headed topside, John had moved into the control room. He knew he was being paranoid, but he still wanted to keep a watchful eye on his friends. After all, Mother Abagail had always been right on the money in the past. He sat down and glued his eyes on the outside monitors.

The blinding flash had stunned him. Was it a serious camera malfunction? But then, the earth had begun to rumble. *No, no, no!* This could not be what he thought it was. He grabbed the intercom and yelled at Roberta to take cover. Then he was on his feet and running.

When he reached the stairwell to the surface, he was bouncing around like a drunk in a pinball machine. He grab the handrails and heaved himself up toward the top. He hit the door with his shoulder, but it wouldn't budge. The quake had jammed it shut.

"Shit!" He groaned as he forced his shoulder into the door. He had to get to Mulder and Scully.

The door finally burst open. He was shocked to see Mulder and Scully standing before him in one piece. But there was no time to speak. Dust was floating in the air, making it hard to breathe.

"Get inside, Mulder!" Scully yelled.

All three ran into the building and John heaved the door shut with all his might.

"Okay. What the fuck just happened?" John yelled.

"I think Las Vegas is toast," Mulder said in disbelief.

"Oh, god," Scully gasped as the truth dawned on her. "What about Ralph and the others...they were supposed to be there."

"I don't know..."

"Toast?" John asked. He needed some clarification.

"As in nuked," Mulder replied. "Scully? Did you see how that blast wave just seemed to...stop? Right before it got to this building?"

Scully nodded. She wasn't even going to venture a guess at why it hadn't reached them...Divine intervention or just the good fortune of distance.

"Look. I don't wanna seem insensitive, but you got any ideas what we're supposed to do now?" John interjected.

Scully looked at them all from head to toe. They were all covered in dust and grit. "First, we get out of these outer clothes. Now. We leave the clothes here and we get downstairs to the decontamination showers. And don't forget to leave your guns up here, too. They were exposed."

They all began to remove their shirts and pants. There was no time for modesty, although, after a pointed look from Mulder, John made sure he didn't catch even a glimpse of Scully's fair skin.

"When we get to the intercom below, John, you contact Roberta and have her shut down the outside air vents," Scully instructed as she slipped out her jeans.

They all started down the stairway.

"After the showers, we grab the Geiger counters from storage. I'm hoping we're far enough away that we didn't just get dosed...and since we're northwest of Vegas, that with the weather patterns, we won't receive fallout here."

***

2130 Hours


They were scrubbed and lotioned and dressed. And Scully had them scouring every inch of the underground compound with the Geiger counters. John wasn't sure he knew understood exactly how to read the infernal device, but the audio part of the counter sure helped. If he heard a lot of rapid clicking, that was bad. He hadn't heard that sound yet.

They met up in the hallway, just outside the stairwell to the surface.

"So far, so good," Scully. She looked to the stairwell door. "I want you two to wait here while I go closer to the surface."

"No way, Scully. I'll go," Mulder objected.

She put her hand on her hip. "Fine, Mulder. You show me that you can tell the difference between 0.5 rads and 10 rads and you can go."

Mulder stood and stared at his Geiger counter. He pursed his lips.

"I thought so," Scully remarked. "I'll be right back." And she pushed open the door and headed up the steps.

Mulder, embarrassed, turned to John, hoping to save face. "But I could tell you the psychological dynamics of what just happened here..."

John smirked. "Yeah. We both failed our high school science class."

Their wait was short. Scully returned less than ten minutes later, slightly out of breath from the stairs. She was carrying their guns in a plastic bag.

"I think we're in the clear," she said, relief evident in her eyes. "The stairwell is clear. And when I checked outside it was 0.7 rads. Within twelve hours, it should be much lower. You can actually see the winds to the south, carrying the fallout east. I think even our groundwater should be safe here. We can have our guns back once we give them a good cleaning."

"What does all this rad stuff mean?" John asked.

"A radiation dose is cumulative. 0.7 rads means that's how many rads you're accumulating each hour. It should be much lower by morning."

"Is that level safe?"

"As long as it drops off. Considering that anyone at the heart of the blast received over 500 rads in an instant. Yes. These levels are safe. Especially since you'll be headed north. Away from the contaminated area."

"What do we do now?" John watched Scully and Mulder for the answer. The duo shared a long look.

"Now," Mulder stated, "We get you guys ready to leave in the morning."

****

The Commissary
October 1
0700 Hours


"We've got the Humvee ready in the 'carrier hanger' and it's all packed and good to go," John announced as he joined everyone for breakfast.

"When do you want to head out?" Roberta asked quietly.

"After breakfast, I guess. No reason to rush, though," he shrugged apologetically. He wasn't an insensitive man, but he was a practical man. They needed to get going while the going was good. Snows would soon be falling in the mountains. Every day would count if they wanted to reach Boulder before the roads were blocked. And the sooner they reached Boulder, the sooner they could find some way to help Scully get out of this place.

He sat down beside Mulder. "So, you think you've got that ham radio outfit figured out yet?" He asked, referring to the old set they had found in the radio storage room. It must have been put there as a backup for extreme situations.

"I think so," Mulder answered. "You just twirl all the knobs all over the place, right?" He teased.

"Ha ha. I wrote down the frequency I'll try to use. It's next to the mike. Give us three weeks to get to Boulder and track one of these sets down. Heck, someone there has probably already found one and is trying to find other survivors around the world. On October 22, at 1700 Hours, we'll try and contact you on this frequency. Okay?"

"Got it," Mulder replied. But his heart wasn't in the conversation. He was staring at Scully. She had Matthew on her lap and they were sharing some kind of Cheerios cereal.

He wasn't sure what had happened, but a few days ago, something inside her had changed. She had started connecting with Matthew. Playing with him, making up stories, drawing pictures. She had Matthew's drawings taped up to their dorm room wall. And Matthew had a stack of Scully's drawings packed in his carry-all in the Humvee.

As sad as she was, she had found some peace. He could tell by the way she held her shoulders. The way the lines around her mouth had relaxed.

He turned to Roberta and they shared a knowing look. And it dawned on him that she had triggered this change in Scully. "Thank you," he mouthed silently. She smiled shyly. He was glad that Matthew would be with such a good man and woman. And dog.

Fluffy had his face buried in a bowl of tuna. *Eeeeewww,* Mulder thought. The dog was gonna have killer breath today.

The breakfast respite was all too soon over. John and Mulder headed to the Humvee. They would raise it to the surface while the others took the stairs.

All of them were silent as they made their ways topside.

***

0815 Hours


"We're still at 0.5 rads here. It should get lower every mile north you travel," Scully explained as she held the Geiger counter out to John. "You know how to read this now, right?"

"We'll be fine, Dana," he nodded. "And I know," he held his hand up before she could talk. "We pull over and find good shelter if the levels rise about 1.0."

"But that shouldn't happen," Scully replied. Her heart was hammering in her chest. She was sure everyone else could hear it. She turned around and lifted Matthew up, letting him come to rest on her hip.

"You, young man. You have fun on your trip," she said, placing her index finger on his little nose. He laughed and stuck his finger on her nose.

"Be good and listen to Roberta and John," she whispered in his ear. She breathed his smell in deeply. His soft hair tickled her face.

"Guess we're all set then!" John called out.

Holding Matthew tightly, Scully moved toward the Humvee. At some point, she felt Mulder's supporting hand at the small of her back. It stayed there as she placed Matthew in the back seat, buckling him with the system John had rigged. A car seat would have been better, but you made do with what you had.

"All set, munchkin?" She asked as she latched the final buckle.

"All set!" Matthew yelled, a goofy grin on his face.

John and Roberta got into the Humvee quietly. Scully leaned over and kissed Matthew's forehead. "I love you, Matthew," her voice was soft.

"Love Aunt Dana!" Matthew hollered, his messy lips puckering up. She leaned over and let him give her a drooling kiss. He smiled.

Scully stepped back and closed the door, her hand lingering on the metal.

With a heavy heart, Mulder walked over to Roberta's door. He handed her a plastic bag that held a stash of jars of Fluff. It suddenly seemed so heavy as he lifted it through the window. "Here, he's addicted to this stuff. But only give him two spoonfuls at a time or he'll get sick...and it isn't a pretty sight."

Roberta took the bag with a certain reverence. Sure it was just a few jars of marshmallow, but it stood for so much more. It was the passing of a responsibility. Of friendship. This man and woman were entrusting her to care for the two beings they loved most. The ache that she felt in her chest threatened to become tears in her eyes. They had given her their trust. And, more importantly, they had given her a purpose to her life.

Fluffy stood between the two bands of people. He owed his allegiance to Mulder and Scully. They were his man and his woman.

He wanted to spend his evenings sitting by a warm fire with Scully, her soft hands finding just the right places around his ears to scratch. Her low voice soothing him to sleep.

He wanted to spend his days playing with Mulder, teasing the man when it was bath time. Running down all the sticks and tennis balls Mulder could throw a thousand times before he tired.

It had been a good life with them. They cared for him when he was hurt or sick. They loved him. He loved them. He would do anything for them.

Which is why he knew what he had to do. He must go and protect the little boy, Matthew. He must play with him and love him. Take care of him for Scully and Mulder. That's what they wanted. What they were asking him to do. Even though he could see the sadness in their eyes.

With one last woof, he turned and jumped into the SUV. Mulder shut the door behind him, letting his hand linger for a second on the frame.

Roberta looked to John. He nodded and started the engine. With one last look out the window to Mulder and Scully, he put it in gear and they drove away.

Fluffy stood in the rear window, focused on Mulder and Scully. Keeping watch until they disappeared from the horizon.

"Fluffy!" Matthew blurted out.

The dog climbed down from his perch at the window and went to his new future. He even managed to wag his tail.

***

They watched the car as it disappeared from the horizon, their arms wrapped around each other.

Scully was surprised to feel the wetness on her face. She had believed that she had used up all her tears in another life time.

"You know something, Scully?" Mulder asked as they both continued to stare at the empty horizon. She tightened her embrace.

"Mother Abagail told me that my weakness is that I hold on to the past. I'm going to promise you, Scully. We have a future. We will find a way. It's not the way I hoped for, but I'll grab it.

"We just have to start here."

***

Two weeks later, in Boulder, Colorado, the community's first communications engineer had arrived. Joseph Fratello had always had a knack for fixing transmissions towers.




*****

"I make known the end from the beginning,
from ancient times, what is still to come.
I say: My purpose will stand..."
- Isaiah 46:10

*****


THE END


*****