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Chapter Two: A Painful Question

Author: Gillian Leigh

Disclaimer: The X-Files and it's characters belong to Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions. I'm only borrowing them, and I promise to return them intact and in mint condition, though I might hang onto Mulder a little while longer. :o)

Author's Note: Here's your chapter two! It might not exactly be up to par, but my muse is fleeting, and she's also picky. Meaning she wants me to work on 'Visitor in the Desert', so that is where my major inspiration lies. LOL. Just a random question, does anyone else's muse look like the cartoon Lizzie on Lizzie McGuire? 'Cause mine does… LOL

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            It was three a.m. Pacific Time before Mulder, Dana and Monica's plane touched down in San Diego. They stood at the counter of the car rental agency, and Mulder had his arm around his wife, who was falling asleep as she leaned against him.  

            "Danes," he said, putting his arm around her shoulder. She jerked awake.

            "What?"

            "Why don't you and Monica go sit down? I'll take care of getting the car," he said. He was surprised when she didn't argue with him and went over to sit down. Monica looked at Mulder questioningly and then went and sat down an empty chair beside Dana. She'd been sitting for about twenty seconds when she stood up unsteadily and approached the counter.

            "Excuse me," she said to an unoccupied attendant. "Where's your restroom?" The woman pointed to her left, and Dana said,

            "Thank you." Darting off down the hall past her husband, she burst into the bathroom and into an open stall before throwing up everything she'd eaten for dinner the night before.

            She stepped up to the sink and splashed cool water on her face and cupped her hands together, rinsing her mouth with it. She dried off her face with a paper towel, and took a moment to study her reflection.

            "Dana, you look like hell," she muttered to herself. Thinking of how just twelve hours before she'd been celebrating the Holiday with her family, and now she stood in a Lariat rental agency, securing a car so she could investigate the disappearance of her stepdaughter, and the murder of the girl's mother. Her lower lip trembled, and try as she might, she couldn't fight off the tears which came so forcefully. The door to the restroom opened.

            "We're ready to go," Monica said, and then rushed to her friend's side and embraced her. "Oh, Dana, what's wrong?"

            "This whole damn thing is wrong," Dana replied through her tears. "Someone murdered Mark's ex-wife on Christmas and then kidnapped my stepdaughter. On Christmas, Monica! What kind of sick bastard would do this?! She's fourteen years-old, for God's sake, what could they want with her?" Monica, not knowing how to respond, dampened a paper towel for Dana to put on her face. She handed it to Dana.

            "Thank you, Mon. This is just --- this is so difficult. It's complicated and messy, and emotional, and I'm scared," she said, quietly. "I've never been this scared in my entire life. Not when Mark died, not when I had cancer."

            "I'm so sorry that you have to go through this. I know we'll find her," Monica said. Dana smiled sadly.

            "Thank you." She paused, and looked downward before continuing. "There's something I should tell you." Monica raised her eyebrows. "I'm pregnant."

            "Congratulations!" she squealed, hastily hugging Dana.

            Both smiling, the pair exited the restroom, and nearly hit Mulder with the door. Upon seeing his wife's slightly reddened face, his expression morphed into concern.

            "Are you alright?" he asked frantically, grabbing her arm.

            "I'm okay. Just a little nausea and some hormones, that's all," she reassured him. "Let's get to the motel and get some sleep." Her husband nodded in agreement, and the trio walked out to the parking lot to claim their car.

             In the moment before she opened her eyes, Dana Mulder felt that everything was normal as she slept peacefully in her warm bed. She was at home, and her stepchildren were sleeping in their respective rooms as her husband slumbered beside her. When she opened her eyes, she remembered. She was not safe at home; she was in the Sand and Pebble Motor Lodge in San Diego, California, because her stepdaughter was missing and the girl's mother had been murdered.

            "I was hoping it had all been a terrible dream," she whispered. Her husband momentarily ceased tying his tie and came over and sat on the edge of the bed beside her.

            "Are you going to be able to do this?" he asked, looking at her with concern.

            "I don't really have much of a choice, now do I?" she asked, sitting up.

            "You do have a choice, Danes. You only have to be here to hear the reading of Jenn's will. You can leave the casework up to us and go home. You don't have to be here for all of this," Mulder said. His wife raised her eyebrows.

            "So I can sit at home every day agonizing, waiting, and wondering? If we're going to find Elena, I'm going to be here when it happens, no matter how things turn out," she said, pushing the covers off and climbing out of the bed. "Right now, I'm going to take a shower," she said. Mulder sat on the edge of the bed, and sighed, covering his face with his hands.  He was not ready to deal with the emotional overload associated with this case. There was a knock at the door, and he opened it to find his partner on the other side.

            "You guys ready?" she asked.

            "Dana's in the shower. She'll need probably another twenty minutes," he replied. Monica nodded.

            "Well, I'm going to make a breakfast run, what do you want?" she asked, pulling a cigarette from her purse.

            "Just get me a coffee, black, and get Dana a cup of decaf and a plain bagel with light cream cheese. That's about the only thing she can tolerate in the morning," he replied. Monica nodded.

            "I'll meet you back here, and then we have to go over to the police station to meet with the local cops and get all the necessary info, and to talk with the field agents working on this," she said, still holding the unlit cigarette between her two fingers. Mulder nodded, and Monica walked away. He closed the door and walked over to the closet and pulled his jacket from it. He heard the bathroom door open beside him, and turned to find Dana leaning against the doorframe, wearing her bathrobe, her hair still wet from the shower. Her eyes met his and she said shakily,

            "What if she's dead?"

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