Sorry about the wait. I'm going on spring break tomorrow so I won't be able to post for a while so here's a long-ish post (well at least for me). Chapter 10...
If Amy thought the reunion was awkward, it was nothing compared to the long car ride home. Monica thought it would be safe to just keep driving so that when it was realized that Mulder, Scully, and John were missing they would already be on their way home and hopefully out of reach. Luckily, this was the case; they were completely safe the whole way home. However, Will, Monica, and Amy all soon realized that safety was not exactly their biggest concern.
"What am I fixing?" Mulder questioned for about the 30th time that hour. Amy regretted telling him that in the first place – he was so robotic that he didn't even need an excuse to be led around like a child.
Meanwhile, John was staring at a photo of himself. "Who's that?" he wondered. Monica would have normally rolled her eyes but this time she was really concerned.
"Mom, how are we going to fix this?" Amy cried. "Really, if I knew that my dad was going to be like this forever I would have never wanted to meet him in the first place."
"Well, honey, I'm trying my hardest here – if I have my way he won't be like this forever. I just wish I could think of something to show them all that would help them remember."
Monica had plenty of time to think, and by the time they reached home she had several ideas. She showed them all the pictures she had of each of them, including their old badges. Nothing. She showed them the few old files she had. No response. She went to bed that night not only disheartened but guilty. She was plagued with potentially infinite problems. First, she had gotten Will and Amy all excited, only to let them down. Now they must be longing even more because their loved ones are so close, yet so unreachable. Also, if she couldn't ever "wake" Mulder, Scully, and John from their robotic states, she had three escaped prisoners to watch after day and night, putting all of their safety at risk. The dangers made it even clearer – she simply had to find a way. There had to be some object, some link to their pasts that would allow everything to come flooding back into their brains – if she stopped thinking and searching for that one thing then she might as well give up all together. But once again, her feelings made her sure that it existed. Yes, those were the same feelings that had gotten her into this mess, but with any luck they could get her out, like a trail of breadcrumbs, but hopefully with a happier ending. As she went to sleep, her mind went to work, continually searching for that one thing.
The next morning, she awoke refreshed with a new purpose, for the night before she had thought of another thing to try. She slowly opened her rather intimidating closet full of junk in her bedroom and began to slowly paw through all the stuff she didn't even know she had yet supposedly needed. See, this is why you should never throw anything out, you never know when you may need it to set your friends free from a robotic state, she thought. She finally reached it, at the back of her closet, all rolled up carefully with rubber bands. And she undid it and brushed the dust away, she couldn't help but frown. She remembered the day perfectly, going down to the office with John only to find it vacated, finding the phone laying on the ground with this precious poster curled up next to it … I want to believe. What a message. She felt herself in the same position now, wanting to believe that this poster would do the trick, the one symbol she possessed that encompassed the ideals of the X-files all in one simple phrase. If this didn't do it, she certainly didn't know what would.
She walked into the living room, where Amy was babysitting all three of them, which in truth didn't take much work because all they did was stare into space.
"Hey guys," she announced as their heads whipped around. "I've got something to show you…" She unfurled the poster and they all looked at it, stared at it for several minutes, as they were accustomed to doing whenever Monica showed them anything. It was only Monica's sigh that broke the silence. She rolled up the poster again and threw it back into her closet before crawling back into bed.
"Mom, come on, you have to get up sometime," pleaded Amy many hours later.
"Where are they?"
"Oh, they all went to bed awhile ago. It was probably the most they've ever said, they said they were tired and felt weird so they were going to bed. It's only 8 though," Amy answered. "Were you planning to continue your nap through the night?"
"I don't know. Yes." Monica replied. "I just feel so… hopeless."
"Well, um, who doesn't? This whole situation is really awful, but we're never going to accomplish anything if you keep lying around."
"Maybe I was thinking."
"You were not thinking, except maybe about how bad your life is. But look, just because the poster didn't work doesn't mean something else won't."
"There is nothing else," Monica sighed. "I can't think of one single other thing. It's over."
"Well, thanks for all the hope mom. Just so you know, I've never known you to give up like this." Amy left the room. She meant for her remark to hit hard, and it did. But instead of making her mom want to get up and do something, it only made Monica feel worse and pull the covers up a little higher. Miraculously, she finally did get up the next morning, drawn by the heavenly aroma of Amy's chocolate chip pancakes. She walked into the living room where their three houseguests were sleeping and noticed that John was waking up too, driven by the same smell. However, the pancakes were soon forgotten.
John sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Mon…" he mumbled.
