Hello, hello, hallo. Well, where do I start ...? Thank you all for your reviews and to those of you who alerted. It's nice to have you on board.

I would love to try for weekly updates every Friday. (And considering it took me three times to spell 'Friday' right just then. I'm already off to a bad start.) But, we'll see how I go. I always set myself with a routine and never follow through and then I end up ignoring it and pretending it's not there. Until I relaise I set it and it can go away whenever I say. Let's just be glad that I'm not doing theatre this year.(I give up.) And If I was there'd be no updates. There'd be no thinking at all. :) So yeah, Friday's. I'm aiming for ... probably won't ever happen. So this is just pointless.

I'll go away. We'll talk later. :)

Part 3

Final Steps

She needed clothes. He realized that once he'd buckled her into the car seat and they were mindlessly driving around the city on a lookout for a hotel.

At first thought he was nervous at the prospect of entering a store with her. He'd only lost her for a moment when he'd bought the car seat. This store would be bigger. He'd heard of stories, seen cases where children were ripped away from department stores and never seen again until their mutilated bodies were found. He didn't need that happening. It didn't help that he was genuinely nervous. She wasn't his child, he couldn't speak her language, nor her speak his. They were in a world of trouble and entering a large, family store could possibly make matters worse if something were to go wrong.

Danica moved through the store, as she had been doing so with her life – acting as though nothing had ever happened. She wasn't acting like a frightened child, she wouldn't let a single passerby into her pain and she seemed to like it that way. Mulder was surprised, he expected the typical "The world is ending!" child response. She was calm and collected, almost as though she had no idea that everything she ever have was now lost. He'd wondered if she actually knew, or if she was playing the part for the watching crowds. The truth was there though, he could see it flash behind her eyes – her mother was dead, that Mulder knew for sure. Any other family she had most likely followed along the same fate.

It was horrible to think a three-year-old was left to deal with that.

Even if she did have family left and someone came out looking for her. Mulder decided he was never letting her go back. He was taking charge now. He was going to be the one to care for her, even if he didn't know how. No one was to stop him.

They moved through the store lazily together taking one step at a time, well, Mulder taking one step for every five of hers. Danica was happy walking beside him instead of being held or placed in the carts child seat. She was exerting her independence and Mulder couldn't help but comply; her wish was his command.

Together they walked up and down isles upon isles of clothes. Every now and then he'd stop, pull something off a rack, size it against her and add it to the cart. After Danica's outright refusal of a few things he picked he let the little girl search through the isles on her own, expecting her own choices to be far worse than his attempts to dress a little girl.

Danica led him through the racks when she found something she'd stop, grab the bottom of it with her tiny hand and pull it a little so he could see what she meant. Once he nodded she proceeded to tell him the German word. Danica on her own added a pair of white stockings, a child's black pinafore and a brand new pea green coat. Each time she found each item, and even when Mulder picked it up she told him quite patiently.

"Schürze." He didn't know the difference between a pinafore or a dress, but would later be listening to his daughter lecture on his own misgivings. When she presented him with "Grünen mantel" Mulder knew instantly what she was talking about – her green coat. Of course, it may have helped that she was holding the item at the time, but the man had also spent a good amount of time in grade school classes switching in between French and German classrooms as a prank upon the teachers. Now he wished he'd stayed in his assigned class all those years ago.

The little girl started to fade fast, she was already quiet enough as it was but when she started to lean against his side every time he stopped, Mulder knew it was time to call it a day. Checking over the shopping cart once more he concluded that they had enough to last them the night and the plane ride back home. Anything else needed would be bought on American soil. This time when he moved to pick her up she didn't protest, instead she found her usual place in the crook of his neck and fought her overtired battle of warding off sleep there.

He made it to the check out with barely a struggle, mom's shopping with the young one's stopped to eye him off appreciatively, a few even offering to help as he haphazardly steered the cart all over the isles. Danica sat in his arms, her little teeth biting on her thumb as she pretended to not notice the attention they were receiving. She was tired, oh, so tired, but even the little girl knew she needed to ward it off until they were away from prying eyes and whispering words.

He'd parked his car in front of a small alleyway of stores, and of course that was where he found it. But as he approached the hire car, he noticed an elderly woman had set up her stall while he was gone. The woman was selling patchwork dolls and blankets, the items were beautiful and worth every cent the woman was asking for.

Quickly he buckled the now sleeping child into her car seat and returned to the woman with the intention of purchasing something for both Danica and Dana. And he knew how much his partner admired the Native American Indian throw blanket he kept over the back of his couch; he may as well bring something back for her too.

Returning to the car with two individual patchwork throw rugs and a patchwork doll he tasked himself with packing things into place. One blanket went into his suitcase in the truck of the car, the other found itself spread across Danica's little lap, while the doll found a home in her new backpack.

He brushed back the long bangs from her face before he moved to tuck the blanket into place, making sure it wouldn't fall off with the slightest shift from her being. He smiled fondly at Schatz, the bear that'd found his home under Danica's small arm. Once moved to his own seat in the car, he turned to check on her and couldn't help but if only for a moment, just to simply watch her.

She had that old fashioned porcelain skin, the kind of thing women were just about killing themselves for millenniums ago. She had a healthy air about her, even though he could be certain she hadn't eaten properly in months, even years. She in a whole was a tiny doll. Skin of perfect white, rose colored cheeks, she just missed the dark hair and if she had it maybe she'd be his very own Snow White. But her hair was a vibrant sun-kissed orange and her face showed cracks in its porcelain as nightmares fought a winning battle behind her sea blue eyes.

It almost sickened him, how much she looked like his partner. Her hair, her eyes, her porcelain cracked skin. While Danica still looked so worry free and youthful. The years of strain and hardship, he'd forced upon his partner had started to show. He could tell she had nightmare at night, they replayed through her eyes every time he looked at her. The only other difference between these two alike females; he'd ruined Scully's life, yet, in turn had saved Danica's. He'd save Scully, he'd let her go, but Mulder was scared of what he'd be without her.

He didn't realize he was driving around the city, until his mind gave up on its constant argument. And then the next started. Usually he'd stop at the closest motel and stay there the night, but, with his sleeping passenger out like a light whilst buckled in tightly in his backseat, he knew, a crummy motel wasn't going to be good enough.

Mulder gave in to driving along the streets for hours, looking for a sign or a hotel anywhere, that looked at least like they'd accommodate children satisfactorily. At the end of the day it didn't really matter where they stayed, Mulder expected them to be out by morning. But a voice in his head, that sounded an awful lot like his mother on the Christmas eve of his nine years of life. Told him "It's the thought that counts, Fox."

Finding a place that looked suitable enough, he pulled into a free parking space and got out of the car. He shrugged Danica into his arms, making sure not to wake her. Checking that he'd also picked up the bear in the process he then wrapped the patterned blanket around her back, trying with that action to keep any cool air off her sleepy warmth. Leaning back into the car carefully he managed to pull out not only Danica's backpack but his suitcase as well. Both pieces of baggage containing the day's purchases.

It was upon some divine god and their greater luck that there was a room free for the night, and "the last one" at that too. Mulder left his details at the desk and a credit card number to charge incidentals to, all the while he held Danica in his arms as he filled out form after form and signed his signature at least five times. Getting up to their room he quickly and quietly changed her into her pajama's, well aware that he should have washed the items before letting her wear them. But, he had no choice, she needed a change of clothes and he couldn't leave her to sleep while he found a laundry mat. Even better than that, he wouldn't let her sleep in the same clothes she'd been wearing all day. The look on her face and her actions in the store; picking out the same coat and stocking told him that she didn't want to wear the items any longer than was needed. Or ever again.

She stirred a little as he dressed her, he feet kicked at his hands in fear until he soothed her. Mulder understood quickly as to why she was so scared in her sleep. Bruises littered her body, covered her legs, her arms, her chest and back. Her stomach was also covered.

The porcelain doll was starting to crack even more the exterior was fading, and he was scared with another step she'd turn back into dust. He need glue, he needed to stick the pieces back together, he hadn't had her very long but she couldn't be completely broken just yet.

He knew it was common for children to be abused, but something in him just couldn't believe it. Why would another being, someone older than her, taller than her and with far more knowledge than a three-year-old bring harm to such a being? He only wished he could understand him. He wanted to tell her over and over again that he'd protect her, that nothing like this would ever happen to her, ever again.

She'd grasped onto his hand when he moved to tuck her in. Her tiny fingers wouldn't let his larger ones go. She had him in a vice like grip and Mulder wasn't going to complain. He gave into her silent begging with a simple sigh. He settled down next to her, his spare hand flattened out her hair and pushed her bangs away from her sweaty forehead. Her face twitched, a nightmare flashing behind her eyes. Her legs shifted slightly under the cover and he knew instantly she was trying to run from her dream.

His mind panicked, what was he supposed to do?

A strangled sob fell from her lips and instantly he was humming softly, the first soothing thing from his childhood going into action in his mind. Neither of his parents had hummed this song to both Samantha and himself, but it was the first thing in his head, the humming notes turned into the lyrics of Elvis Presley's 'Are You Lonesome Tonight?' and although he couldn't sing as well as The King himself he thought he did an okay job. Danica stopped fidgeting, her breathing slowed to a normal sleepy rate and her body un-tensed against his own.

He was doing something right, and knew he shouldn't stop.

Leaning against the headboard he pulled her into his lap as she started to thrash again, her moment of calm disrupted by forced nightmares. His heart ached as he watched her pain, as he felt her legs kick violently against his own, in an imagined struggle. He held her close, trapped her to him as he lungs let out a spine tingling howl. Tears started to soak through his shirt, just as they appeared in his eyes. She shook, her body almost unable to stop as a tremble ran through every one of her nerves. Her arms had wrapped around his, her fingers curling and uncurling in the flesh left bare by his t-shirt. He was surprised her fingers weren't scratching and reaching out. Yet, another reminder that her mind was deep in sleep, reliving a past moment, not the present one.

All he could do was sit there, hold her protectively and hum classic Elvis while she fought her battles in her sleep. He was quite surprised that this moment even came. He expected her to break down in the car, when he pulled her out of there; instead he got a small amount of tears. She's been so quiet, so brave all day and now, now, her body was betraying her.

He was seeing her daemons. He couldn't believe the traitorous things came out to play in the dark, that was far from fair and he wasn't allowed to fight them for her. She was just a little girl with no experience for fighting off the darkness that could invade so thickly. Where was the fairness in that? That was his job, fighting off the darkness, even though it embedded itself so thickly into his own life, but it was his job none the less. Why couldn't he fight for her?

There is a reason for everything. His mind baited. Well it can bite me on the ass! He wanted all but to scream at someone, to point the finger and lay the blame. But right now he couldn't, right now he had a girl, fighting the worst of her darkness in his lap while he sat helpless.

When her screams lowered to soft sobbing and then dissipated back to her quiet sleep, he couldn't help the sigh. At last, she could get some rest and he hopped it would go undisturbed for the rest of the night.

The sun was still yet to show any hint to rising and it was only then when his eyes got heavy and his mind let go that Fox Mulder realized the extent of effort and hardship he was about to undergo with raising this child. He hadn't understood completely until that moment, a sweat soaked, yet, now peacefully sleeping girl was wrapped tight in his protective embrace, this was just the beginning of what he'd dived into, this was what life entailed now; her nightmares and his soothing.

They both slept peacefully for once in their lives. It was a soft tapping woke the light sleeping insomniac, he had to move slowly and carefully in order to pull himself away from the child without waking her as well. Mulder knew already who was on the other side, it was the only other man who knew they were there.

When Mulder pulled the door open, Pearson greeted him with a soft tone, his actions light instead of rough. Almost as though the young man were being weeirful of the fragile girl who lay dormant inside. He handed over Danica's forged papers as he explained. "According to this, she is Danica Elisif Mulder." He pronounced her first name different, the end sounding a little more like a 'z' belonged in there. "She's yours. Please, don't forget that." His voice took down another pitch, nearly a slight whisper. "I've never had to do something like this, Mulder. And if I hear from the Gunmen, that you've forgotten about her, I'll kick your ass." Mulder's beam was impossibly wide, he was happy to know there were other people out there, ready to look after her if he couldn't, or if he slacked off.

He nodded softly, promising Pearson that he wouldn't forget, it was pretty hard to anyway. "I know, I took longer than expected. So I took the liberty of doing this for you." He handed over two boarding passes for the next morning, a nonstop flight straight to Washington D.C.

"Thank you." Mulder muttered. He really couldn't think of anything else to say to the man.

"Just look after her, Mulder. That's all I ask." He nodded, again. That was seemingly easy enough to do. With a shake of hands and a final farewell Pearson left Mulder standing in his hotel doorway. Checking the documents one last time before closing the door he found a small German to English flip dictionary.

Mulder couldn't help the smile that graced his lips. The man really could be a puzzle at times. He pushed the door closed behind him with the back of his foot, leaving it to close with a soft click.

Their flight didn't leave until nine that morning. Danica could still have another seven hours of undisturbed sleep, if her dreams permitted.

He dropped the tickets and Danica's forged documentation to the small desk around the corner from the door. He didn't need to look at the carefully enveloped pieces of paper to know that Pearson had done the right job.

It was odd to think that he was doing all of this. Saving a girl's life and taking her back to America, back to safety. He had no relation to her, no real motive for acting so stupidly. She wasn't American, yet, he was going to great lengths to save her life. He didn't have too and yet, he was.

He'd get her home an act as though she'd been with him all along. Scully would know the truth through, he had to share that with her. But other than that, he'd spin a story, bend it with half-truths; he did have a wife, once. She had left him, and as far as Mulder knew their child had died before he was born, Carly had nothing to take from him. But she was in Europe. He'd use that to his advantage, he just hoped no one would pry any further. He was all for finding the truth, but he didn't want to have to tell the truth about that part of his past.

What would Skinner think? The man knew about Carly, would he be surprised by Danica's appearance, would he question her actual existence. Danica surely didn't look anything like his ex-wife.

And what about the people at work? What would they think, he'd thought about it before, never wanting to admit it. But Danica looked so much like his partner; rumors were surely going to spread, would they want to break them up? Would it bring harm to them out on the field? As they tried to complete their jobs? He didn't want Scully to have to go through the teasing the other agents provided. The teasing would surely never end, and the rumors would lead to their being split up.

Scully would kill him, he'd tell her the truth and she'd kill him, but he hoped she'd also be supportive. He really wanted his partner's mother to be an important role in Danica's life. He knew even if Scully was mad with him she'd encourage Maggie and Danica getting to meet. He was so sure Mrs Scully was going to love her, he just knew Danica would take place a grandchild quickly, no matter what terms he and Scully were on or what story Maggie was told. Danica would be loved by the older woman.

That surge granted to him over the thought of both he and Scully having a child together was indescribable. The fact that other people would believe things of them, would believe they made this child together, it was an insane feeling and he couldn't help but admit to himself that he loved it. But, it was stupid. Scully didn't love him, he wasn't allowed to love her. They were partners. End of story.

The girl let out a small noise in her sleep as shifted in the way too large bed.

He checked over the room twice before switching on the bathroom light and leaving the door ajar before he settled on the couch, finally realizing they had a long flight ahead of them and he needed to be awake for her every breath, especially her nightmares.

Sleep came quickly and he was starting to think it was due to her presence. He could never sleep after Samantha's abduction, but now he had someone else to save. Right now, that someone was sleeping peacefully, now finally, he could too.

Sooo...?

Next chapter, if I don't break it down you'll get some Scully. And then this story will get REALLY bad!

I just want to share my pain right now. I bought these two pieces of canvas with the Brooklyn Bridge on them and one half won't stick to the wall. And I can't put nails in the wall ... I think I just found one of the most frustrating things on the planet. :/

-Annaliese