You'd think that ether would be hard to find in this day and age, given
that they no longer use it at hospitals, but it really isn't. She was
pretty deeply asleep already, so she didn't struggle at all as I held the
cloth over her face. It was harder to tell if it worked given she'd been
asleep, but I figured it had. You don't want to use too much ether, that
can kill a person. She was fine though, breathing deeply and evenly when I
went for William.
Before you get upset, I didn't do that to William. He's just a baby, who knows how much to give someone that tiny? Even though he cried when I picked him up, it didn't matter. Scully couldn't hear him. It made me sad that he cried, but you can't expect a kid that young to remember you. He fussed as I threw a bunch of his clothes into a bag, then did the same thing with her things after I carried him into Scully's room. She didn't stir, not even when I made a lamp wobble as I dragged the now heavy bag past it.
I brought William out to the car first, figuring that if the ether didn't work, at least I'd have him. That wasn't what I wanted, but something is better than nothing, right? I dropped the bag by the car, and unlocked it. Once he was buckled in –still screaming- put their things into the trunk. Evie woke up and began to cry too, either because of Will or the trunk slamming. The thought of two screaming babies started to give me a headache, but everything was going as planned, so it seemed like a fairly small price to pay.
The second to last thing I did was to go to the fish tank and throw in one of those week-long food pellets. At first I'd wanted to take them with me, but I decided that it wasn't a good idea. The thought of a bag of fish sloshing between the carseats seemed kind of crazy, so I dismissed it. The fish would be ok for a week this way, and it probably wouldn't take a whole week for people to realize that she and Will were gone. Of course people would say missing, but they wouldn't be missing, they'd be with me.
Every time I've picked her up, the realization hits me all over again. She is so light. You don't expect that from an adult, especially not one that's such a powerful presence. I almost left her room without grabbing her cross, but it seemed like it would be bad luck, so I pocketed it.
Adults are harder to seatbelt, sleeping or not, that small children. I managed, though, glad that I'd thought to buy one of those travel pillows so her head wouldn't hurt from leaning against the glass.
***
There are a lot of ways to transport two babies and an unconscious woman, but I don't recommend boat as being one of them. I had to do it that way, though, really, so I suppose I shouldn't complain too much.
You see, when my mother died, I was left all of her and Dad's properties, since there were no more Mulders. At least not until William and Evie. There were the two houses, but there were smaller properties scattered throughout as well. In a somewhat misguided effort at father-son bonding, not long after I joined the bureau Dad bought a little cabin ... that just so happens to be on a tiny island in the Atlantic ocean. Don't get me wrong, it's only a stone's throw from shore, but it was a genuine island. We spent a few odd weekends there fishing, but he didn't live long enough after that for it to become a regular thing.
I did, however, spend enough time there to realize that it's extraordinarily secluded, which is just what I wanted for this endeavor.
The thing I'm most grateful for is that dad also purchased storage space in marina, as well as a parking spot, so we'd always have a way to get to what he referred to as "our island." Thank God I'd kept up with the fees for both luxuries. Apparently consorting with the syndicate paid well, so he was able to buy quite an impressive boat to store there. Alas, that boat didn't suit my needs, but the tiny dingy that we'd lazily equipped with a motor was more than adequate.
I suppose it was a very good thing that it was late at night, since it'd be sort of hard to explain to local authorities what I was doing. "They're my wife and kids" or "I'm an FBI agent and I'm taking witnesses to a secure location" both would seem suspect given Scully's state, especially since she'd begun to stir about a half hour before we got there, and I'd had to dose her again.
Luckily, there was nobody out but the stars.
Given the size of the boat, and the necessity to bring a play pen and two travel cribs in addition to myself, Scully and two babies in carriers, it was a tight fit. I worried for a moment that the load would be too much and cause the boat to sink, but it didn't. It was a tense fifteen-minute ride to the cabin, though. I tried to distract myself by planning the order of things to come.
What I finally settled on was to bring the babies and the playpen in first, then Scully, and then, once William was in the playpen and Scully resting comfortably on a bed, I brought everything else in too. William didn't seem capable of climbing out of the playpen, but I wasn't going to take any chances, so I locked the cabin behind me. Taking care of the boat was the last item to check off my list.
One of the things Dad and I discovered about the island during our fishing weekends, is that there was a small underground cave at the far end of the island. With my usual luck, I'd been the one stumble across it, literally. It was the perfect place to stash a small boat, since you don't notice the opening to the cave if you don't know exactly where to look. Even though the boat was light enough to lift, once I'd dragged it through the water as close to the cave as I could, I had to take the motor off and carry that separately. All in all it only took ten minutes to get both pieces down out of sight.
When I was done, it didn't look like there was a way off the island but swimming, and we were too many miles from the mainland for Scully to have attempted to swim back herself, never mind with William in tow. I whistled happily as I walked back to the cabin; things couldn't have worked out more perfectly.
Before you get upset, I didn't do that to William. He's just a baby, who knows how much to give someone that tiny? Even though he cried when I picked him up, it didn't matter. Scully couldn't hear him. It made me sad that he cried, but you can't expect a kid that young to remember you. He fussed as I threw a bunch of his clothes into a bag, then did the same thing with her things after I carried him into Scully's room. She didn't stir, not even when I made a lamp wobble as I dragged the now heavy bag past it.
I brought William out to the car first, figuring that if the ether didn't work, at least I'd have him. That wasn't what I wanted, but something is better than nothing, right? I dropped the bag by the car, and unlocked it. Once he was buckled in –still screaming- put their things into the trunk. Evie woke up and began to cry too, either because of Will or the trunk slamming. The thought of two screaming babies started to give me a headache, but everything was going as planned, so it seemed like a fairly small price to pay.
The second to last thing I did was to go to the fish tank and throw in one of those week-long food pellets. At first I'd wanted to take them with me, but I decided that it wasn't a good idea. The thought of a bag of fish sloshing between the carseats seemed kind of crazy, so I dismissed it. The fish would be ok for a week this way, and it probably wouldn't take a whole week for people to realize that she and Will were gone. Of course people would say missing, but they wouldn't be missing, they'd be with me.
Every time I've picked her up, the realization hits me all over again. She is so light. You don't expect that from an adult, especially not one that's such a powerful presence. I almost left her room without grabbing her cross, but it seemed like it would be bad luck, so I pocketed it.
Adults are harder to seatbelt, sleeping or not, that small children. I managed, though, glad that I'd thought to buy one of those travel pillows so her head wouldn't hurt from leaning against the glass.
***
There are a lot of ways to transport two babies and an unconscious woman, but I don't recommend boat as being one of them. I had to do it that way, though, really, so I suppose I shouldn't complain too much.
You see, when my mother died, I was left all of her and Dad's properties, since there were no more Mulders. At least not until William and Evie. There were the two houses, but there were smaller properties scattered throughout as well. In a somewhat misguided effort at father-son bonding, not long after I joined the bureau Dad bought a little cabin ... that just so happens to be on a tiny island in the Atlantic ocean. Don't get me wrong, it's only a stone's throw from shore, but it was a genuine island. We spent a few odd weekends there fishing, but he didn't live long enough after that for it to become a regular thing.
I did, however, spend enough time there to realize that it's extraordinarily secluded, which is just what I wanted for this endeavor.
The thing I'm most grateful for is that dad also purchased storage space in marina, as well as a parking spot, so we'd always have a way to get to what he referred to as "our island." Thank God I'd kept up with the fees for both luxuries. Apparently consorting with the syndicate paid well, so he was able to buy quite an impressive boat to store there. Alas, that boat didn't suit my needs, but the tiny dingy that we'd lazily equipped with a motor was more than adequate.
I suppose it was a very good thing that it was late at night, since it'd be sort of hard to explain to local authorities what I was doing. "They're my wife and kids" or "I'm an FBI agent and I'm taking witnesses to a secure location" both would seem suspect given Scully's state, especially since she'd begun to stir about a half hour before we got there, and I'd had to dose her again.
Luckily, there was nobody out but the stars.
Given the size of the boat, and the necessity to bring a play pen and two travel cribs in addition to myself, Scully and two babies in carriers, it was a tight fit. I worried for a moment that the load would be too much and cause the boat to sink, but it didn't. It was a tense fifteen-minute ride to the cabin, though. I tried to distract myself by planning the order of things to come.
What I finally settled on was to bring the babies and the playpen in first, then Scully, and then, once William was in the playpen and Scully resting comfortably on a bed, I brought everything else in too. William didn't seem capable of climbing out of the playpen, but I wasn't going to take any chances, so I locked the cabin behind me. Taking care of the boat was the last item to check off my list.
One of the things Dad and I discovered about the island during our fishing weekends, is that there was a small underground cave at the far end of the island. With my usual luck, I'd been the one stumble across it, literally. It was the perfect place to stash a small boat, since you don't notice the opening to the cave if you don't know exactly where to look. Even though the boat was light enough to lift, once I'd dragged it through the water as close to the cave as I could, I had to take the motor off and carry that separately. All in all it only took ten minutes to get both pieces down out of sight.
When I was done, it didn't look like there was a way off the island but swimming, and we were too many miles from the mainland for Scully to have attempted to swim back herself, never mind with William in tow. I whistled happily as I walked back to the cabin; things couldn't have worked out more perfectly.