11.

Adam's cries woke Mulder from his sleep, loud and demanding in the still air of the morning. Outside was still dark, but the silver cracks highlighting the clouds indicated dawn wasn't far off. Pulling himself to his feet, Mulder went to his son, grateful for the thick carpeting that kept his feet relatively warm in the cold air.

He frowned as he picked Adam up, looking around for Scully who would normally be with the baby already. She was nowhere to be seen, and given the events of the previous night, Mulder wasn't entirely surprised. She was probably in the kitchen, warming his bottle, he thought, leaving the room and making his way to the kitchen.

She wasn't there, and she wasn't sleeping on the sofa either – even though the blanket and pillow he found there indicated it was where she had spent the remainder of her night.

"For something so small he makes a big noise," Krycek complained as he appeared in the kitchen several seconds after Mulder started heating Adam's bottle. "Can't you get it to shut up?"

"He's hungry, Krycek," Mulder said calmly. "Have you seen Scully?"

"Not in bed anymore?"

"No," Mulder said curtly, checking the temperature of the bottle. "She's probably in the shower. Make yourself useful, Krycek, and get the coffee going."

By the time Adam finished his bottle and was burped, there was still no sign of Scully. Laying the baby down carefully in the portable crib, Mulder left Krycek in the kitchen and went in search of her.

"Scully?" he called. "Scully, where are you?"

He knocked on the bathroom door at the end of the hall, and when there was no answer he tried to open it. It was locked. "Scully?" he called, knocking again. Concern blossomed in his gut when she failed to respond.

The small lock on the door was nowhere near strong enough to withstand the force of him when he threw his body against the door; it clattered to the tiled floor noisily as the door fell open and let him into the room. The shower screen was pulled shut, water droplets on the glass and mirror evidence of a recent hot shower. There was a blurred outline at the bottom on the screen; her skin appearing peach against the rippled glass.

He turned cold inside and yanked the screen open, swearing as he saw the blood and the water and her limp body sprawled awkwardly inside the stall. Her skin was cold to touch, her face caked with blood and her body still damp.

"Scully, come on," he whispered, pulling her out of the stall and gathering her in his arms.

"Shit," he heard Krycek hiss. "What's wrong with her?"

"Get me some towels, Krycek!" Mulder snapped, checking for breathing and then a pulse. The soft puff of air against his cheek as she breathed and the flutter of her pulse against his fingertips reassured him, but her skin was cold and wet and bloody.

He picked her up and carried her to the room they'd shared. She moved when he placed her on her bed rubbed her dry with a towel, covering her with the blankets once she was dry.

"That's it," he said gently, "come on, Scully, open your eyes for me."

A soft groan escaped from her lips and her eyelids fluttered, the pasty white of her skin contrasting vividly with the deep hue of her blood and the bright blue of her eyes when they finally opened.

"Mulder?" she whispered, blinking in confusion.

"Hey," he whispered just as quietly, brushing a cold, wet lock of hair off her forehead and tucking it behind her ear in a familiar gesture.

"What happened?" she murmured.

"I think you fainted," he said gently, tucking her hair behind her ears. "God, you scared me Scully. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, then frowned. "Why's the baby crying?"

"He needs a change," Mulder said. "Are you warm?"

"I'm fine, Mulder," she slurred, her eyes fluttering closed. "I'm cold."

"Krycek, we need to get her to a hospital," Mulder said desperately.

"We can't, Mulder, they'll know where you are then," Krycek pointed out.

"I'm going to get help," he said.

"No, I'm fine. I'm just cold and the baby's crying. Why's the baby crying, Mulder?"

"I'll get the baby for you, Scully," Mulder soothed, brushing a kiss across her forehead. "You just stay still, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed easily, her eyes fluttering shut.

Fear twisted and turned and grew inside him, dark and encompassing as he stared down at her lying so still on the bed.

"What's wrong with her?" Krycek demanded.

"She's dying," Mulder whispered. "She's dying, Krycek, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it."

"I hate to sound like I don't care, Mulder, but we have to move. We can't stay here."

"I know," Mulder said. "I know."


Everything inside him screamed to get Scully to a hospital, but Krycek had refused, and when Scully woke as he carried her to the car she also opposed his suggestion.

"I'm fine, Mulder," she said calmly. "I'm just tired. I can sleep in the car; there's nothing they can do for me at a hospital anyway."

One step forward and a marathon backwards, Mulder thought, glancing into the rear-view mirror and watching as Scully attempted to pacify an unusually difficult Adam. Some days he thought he knew where he stood with Scully; he could define their relationship easily and play his part perfectly. Other days, he misinterpreted horrifically and screwed up unintentionally.

And then he just plain over-stepped the mark, like last night.

Glancing at her reflection again, he sighed. Seemed he was getting exceptionally good at reading the wrong signals into Scully's behaviour.

Six years together, and she had never indicated that she felt anything more for him than a deep affection, friendship and a love he found difficult to quantify.

She'd wanted a baby with him, but the methods had nothing to do with the act of love and everything to do with a test tube. Fair enough, conventional methods wouldn't have been successful, but maybe procreation wasn't the only reason for conventional methods.

Had he been wrong in thinking she wanted him?

His fingers drummed anxiously on the wheel, gnawing on his lip thoughtfully.

"Where are we going, Krycek?" Scully asked from the back, her voice laced with a crankiness Mulder knew was due to exhaustion. Concern tugged at him, and he allowed himself a quick scrutiny. She was too pale, dark circles under her eyes. Her eyes met his in the mirror for a quick second, before she broke and looked away.

"Just keep driving, Mulder," Krycek responded.

"We've been driving for hours, Krycek, and I want to know where we're going," Scully snapped in irritation.

"We'll stop soon, Scully," Mulder promised.

"I don't want to stop soon, Mulder, I want to know where the hell we're going. I want to know why we're even listening to this man!"

"Because I'm going save your son," Krycek reminded her.

"So you keep saying, but I have yet to see what you're going to save him from. We only have your word that he's in danger, and the further we go the more I start to wonder if maybe the danger to Adam isn't you."

"Why would I – What are you doing, Mulder?" Krycek questioned sharply as Mulder pulled over to the side of the road, gravel crunching under the wheels.

"Scully's right. Before we go any further you're going to give us the answers we want."

"I will explain everything, but you have to keep driving," Krycek insisted. "You can't stop here."

"Why not?" Scully demanded.

"It's safer stopping in populated areas. They're less likely to attack there because right now only a few people know what they are and what they're doing. If they attack in the middle of a city or a suburb it won't take long until everyone knows who and what they are."

"Why make us leave Washington then?" Mulder demanded.

"They knew you were there. They know exactly where you are."

"How?"

Krycek smiled a twisted smirk. "You don't honestly think that chip in the base of Scully's neck only stopped the cancer?"