"You have to be strong, Fox," his mom told him, wiping the tears from his cheeks. "You are a big boy now and big boys don't cry."
She was acting tough, but her eyes were red and swollen, and the slight shake in her voice scared him.
"I want to go home," he pleaded through the sobs.
"Soon, darling, soon," she promised, just like the last time she came to see him. Which was a long time ago.
She kissed him on the forehead and stood to leave, but he grabbed her leg and started to scream.
"Enough," she said quietly, lowering down to his level again. She hugged him tightly and whispered to his ear. "Our time is up and if I don't leave now they won't let me come again. It's their rules, darling. You don't know what I had to do to be allowed to see you… I'm going to get you back, I promise, but you have to give me more time. You have to be brave, Fox."
"Mommy, I can't!" he wasn't letting go of her. "It hurts too much!"
"What hurts, darling?"
Reluctantly, he moved one hand from her neck and placed it on his butt. He felt his mom stiffen so suddenly and completely that he stopped crying and didn't dare to move anymore.
"Let me see," she asked after a few moments of silence. He moved his hand and let her pull down his pants. She gasped and quickly pulled them back up. He assumed she saw the blood and worried that it might make her mad at him.
"I'm sorry, mommy," he said.
She didn't answer. She picked him up and rushed out of the room. The men came and stopped her and she yelled at them hysterically, not letting anybody take him from her.
He didn't cry anymore. He buried his head in his mother's chest and tried to shut out the noise and commotion around them. Then The Smoking Man came - he recognized him by the cigarette smell – and the other men left. It was quiet now, but it only made everything feel scarier.
"I'm not leaving without him!" his mom demanded.
"You know I can't allow that," The Smoking Man's voice was calm and determined.
"You don't know what you're doing," his mom warned.
"Oh, I know what I'm doing. And you know as well. The whole future of the humankind depends on our project."
"What project?! You aren't testing the vaccine, you are… My god, you people are sick!"
"Am I now?" The Smoking Man wasn't amused.
"You don't know what you're doing," she repeated. "Fox is… He isn't Bill's son! I didn't want anybody to know, least of all you, but he isn't Bill's! He is… You are doing it to your own son."
"Clever. But we both know the math doesn't add up."
"Have you ever done the math? Have you? Because I've done it thousands time and ever since I found out I was pregnant, I feared you would too."
"Why tell me now, then?"
"Because you've gone too far. I can't let you do this to him."
"Everybody had to make a sacrifice, you know this."
"But this isn't Bill's sacrifice! This isn't his son! Let him go and take me instead. Take me, Bill's wife, like you took yours. It's only fair."
"I've had you. I'm done with you. You are of no use to me."
"He's too small… for your… use. You are going to kill him!" she was crying now and it scared him. His mother was the strongest woman in the world and he never saw her cry before.
The Smoking Man didn't say anything. He kept smoking while she kept crying for what felt like forever.
"I'll let you take the boy," he finally said. "For now. If what you're saying is true, I'll protect him, make sure he stays out of this. But nobody will hear about any of this. You make sure the kid stays quiet or you'll never see him again. And Bill Mulder will have to pay, like everybody else. He won't get a free pass."
"I understand. I'm willing to sacrifice myself, in place of my son."
"We'll see about that…"
Mulder awoke all wet from sweat and urine.
Great, he thought bitterly, controlling my bladder is apparently the ability lost for good.
He went to the shower, but the warm water on his skin did nothing to help him feel cleaner. He tried switching to cold, then to overly hot, but he was hardly able to feel the difference. His mind was too busy tormenting him with memories to pay attention to bodily sensations.
Maybe it didn't really happen, he thought hopefully. Maybe it's just my brain playing tricks on me, like it did with my 'memory' of Samantha's abduction.
Maybe it was just a dream.
He knew it was a BS, though. He knew it because it wasn't just one isolated memory, he also remembered the time after his return. His mother never mentioned the torment he'd been through, and she never let him talk about it either. Whenever he expressed pain or fear, she assured him that it never happened and that it wasn't acceptable to make up disturbing stories like that. She wasn't letting him out of her sight for a long while, shutting down his every effort of expressing himself so completely and effectively that in the end he not only truly believed it never happened, but he didn't even remember "making it up".
She saved his life, unknowingly sacrificing the life of a daughter she hadn't yet known she was carrying.
Samantha.
"Samantha!" he screamed, the sharp pain running through his soul. "Samantha! Noooo! Samantha!"
He slumped to the bottom of tub sobbing so hard that he had trouble breathing. He started to scratch his arms in an effort to break the vein, to let the pain out. It didn't work, his nails were clipped too short, because of the baby.
The baby.
Another desperate scream erupted from his lungs.
"Betty!"
Scully opened the door the second before Mulder tore it down.
"It's late," she said, clearly displeased. "What are you doing?"
"Why aren't you opening?" Mulder was frantic. "Where is she?"
"Betty?" Scully yawned. "She's sleeping, so please be quiet. I was sleeping too. Where is your key?"
"My key?" he glanced at her as if she was the one acting crazy. "Where is my daughter?"
He rushed by Scully before she could answer and a second later the baby started to cry.
"Get used to it, Betty," Scully sighed to herself. "Your father never sleeps and won't let you, either."
She went to the baby's room and found Mulder holding Betty as if she was his hostage. The baby's distress made Scully mad and she tried to take her from Mulder.
"What are you doing? You are scaring her. Give her to me."
But he wouldn't. Not for all the world, he wasn't letting go of her.
"I won't let anyone hurt her!" he said, clearly upset.
"I won't either," Scully tried to stay calm. "I'm her mother."
She reached slowly towards him, but he took a step back.
"Don't," he begged, crying now. "Don't take her away from me."
"I won't," she said, slowly approaching him. He kept retrieving until he reached a wall and, having nowhere else to hide, he slid down on the floor. Scully followed.
"Don't take her from me," Mulder repeated through sobs.
"I won't," Scully assured him, and she didn't. She just stroked Betty with one hand, and pulled Mulder close with the other.
"It's ok, I'm here," she said to both of them, holding them both. "Shhh… It's all right… I'm here…"
Betty was the first one to stop crying. Mulder kept soaking Scully's pajama top for a while, shaking like a leaf on the wind in her embrace. She almost fell asleep from exhaustion, but didn't rush him, giving him all the time in the world.
Only when his sobs slowed down she tried talking to him again.
"Mulder, what happened?" she asked gently.
"I keep forgetting, Scully," he said apologetically.
"Forgetting what?"
"That my mother killed herself. How much… How much it affected me."
His answer made the blood in her veins freeze. He was in a dark, dark place and she had to get him out of there. She had no idea how to do that, but she was determined and willing to shoot him and drag him to safety, if that's what it took to save him from himself.
It wouldn't be the first time.
"Give me the baby," she said calmly, even though her heart was breaking.
"No," he pleaded. "Don't take her from me."
"Mulder, she's not going anywhere," Scully assured him. "I'll just put her in the crib to sleep, and you and I can talk, ok?"
"I don't want to talk," there was a fear in his voice.
"Ok," Scully accepted. "Then we'll just… have a cup of tea. Let her have her rest, ok?"
Mulder didn't respond. He just pulled Betty closer. He wasn't ready.
He stopped crying, though, so Scully felt at ease about leaving them alone.
"I'll start the tea," she said simply, giving Mulder time to come to his senses.
She waited for him on the living-room couch and, despite her doubts, he joined her before the tea went cold. She pushed one mug in his direction.
"Take the bed," she said. "I'll sleep on the couch."
"I can't stay," Mulder shook his head.
"I'm not offering you a choice here," Scully was firm.
Mulder chuckled. "Then I guess you're going to be writing AMA on my file."
"Mulder," Scully sighed. "You need help."
"Right. I'm sure you can refer me to a few excellent therapists who specialize in alien conspiracies."
"I am not worried about the supernatural aspects of your suffering…"
Mulder sighed. "So you just think some shrink has the power to make a real man out of me?"
It was dark, and so late that it was becoming early. They were both tired, scared and they had a mutual baby sleep in the other room. Neither of them had the energy to argue, they were simply trying to survive.
"Being a virgin doesn't make you any less of a man," Scully said, as if she had hope he would believe her.
"Is that what you think I am? A virgin?" He didn't like that word. He didn't think he deserved it anymore. Being a virgin in his forties used to make him feel like a loser, yet now he wished he could go back to being only that.
"Abuse doesn't count," Scully said softly. She placed her hand over his. He was cold, colder than her, and that never happened.
Unless he was in a shock.
"A wise man once said, if you are going through hell, keep going," she continued, encouraged that he didn't pull away. "There is a way out of this and we're going to find it together. Like we always do."
"You are not my partner anymore," he reminded her bitterly, retrieving his hand.
"I'm still your friend. And the mother of your child. I'm not going to let you disappear for another three months or maybe forever this time. If you walk out of this door now, I'll follow you."
"With Betty? You can't."
"I am not pregnant anymore. Betty can be perfectly safe without me now."
Mulder buried his head in his hands. He knew Scully meant every word, he knew she would find him anywhere, even without FBI's resources. Besides, he didn't want to go anywhere. He wanted to be close to Betty, making sure she was happy and safe. There was still one problem though.
He leaned towards Scully, to whisper in her ear conspiratorially. It was mostly so he wouldn't have to look her in the eyes while telling her. "It might have been a one time thing, or maybe I've regressed too far, but, um, I don't want to mess up your bed like I did mine."
He leaned back on the couch, waiting for her to send him to sleep in a tub.
"What are you trying to say?" Scully was confused. "Mulder, did you wet your bed in your sleep?"
"Do you think Betty would mind sharing a few diapers?" he tried to joke, wondering why she had to be so damn blunt.
Scully chuckled and leaned down to whisper back at him. "As you know, I had a difficult time giving birth. My… certain organs refused to co-operate for a while. It's better now, but my bed is still fully protected. Just in case."
He chuckled at her admission. Her warmth made him feel at ease, her presence made his demons smaller, almost manageable. He nodded, watching her face lighting up with the first morning rays.