Gabriel
Chapter Twenty-Nine


En Route to Denver
September 26, 2001
7:34 a.m.


Voices all around him, quietly discussing the
weather, pulling him from his dreamless slumber
like a gentle pair of firm, calloused hands.  He
shifted and swallowed, loathe to give up rest
just yet.

"Snowing like crazy.  This is gonna make it slow
going to Canada."  That was Frohike, punctuating
the observation with a muttered, "Damn."

Eyes closed, Gabriel listened, the rolling of
the train beneath him almost lulling him back to
sleep.  He still felt like he could sleep for a
thousand years.

"Look at him." Skinner was chuckling.  "Like
he's gonna be making a trip over the mountains
anytime soon.  This time, he'll have no choice
but to listen to doctor's orders."

"He's gonna be pissed," Langly whined.

"Tough shit," Skinner said, still laughing. 
"What's he gonna do?  Crawl out of that bed?"

Frohike again.  "Maybe Scully can sit on him."

Gabriel let his lips curl; Frohike was right. 
Scully could probably hold him down with just
the pressure of her little finger at this point. 
Not so years ago... but then again, years ago,
he had no option as to just *how* Scully could
keep him quiet.

"Probably not," Skinner murmured.

At that, Gabriel regained full awareness,
lifting his head with a moan.  Why couldn't she
keep him in line?  Because she was... not there.
In a flash, all three came into his line of
sight.

"Mulder?  You awake?"  Frohike waved a hand in
front of Gabriel's face, concern lining his
cheeks.  "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"I dunno, but you've been eating onions.  Lay
off Jesse's chili.  It's a killer."  The mention
of Scully's name had set him on edge and he
tried to sit up, forcing Frohike to back off. 
"Where is she?"

Damn it, he'd done it again.  He was wrapped
like a newborn in swaddling, trussed up like a
turkey. All on his right side.  He didn't hurt
anywhere - quickly, he amended that thought. 
His knee hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.  Pain made
his words harsh as he growled, "Where the hell
is she?"

Skinner moved forward.  "Kurtzweil's working on
her right now, Mulder.  Settle down."

The wintry light bleeding in through the windows
told him it was well past sunup.  "Why the wait? 
Why didn't he do it hours ago?"  Something was
wrong with her, he just knew it.  They weren't
telling him everything.  Anxiety made him
struggle against the blankets and Skinner moved
forward to help him sit, propping several
pillows behind his back.  Lingering pain was of
no consequence; he wanted answers, and he wanted
them now.  "Damn it, why the hell are we going
back to Denver?"

Skinner put a big, confining hand on his
uninjured shoulder.  "You're in no shape right
now to be making the trip to Canada and you know
it.  So that's the last I want to hear on that
subject."  He straightened as Frohike
approached, adding, "Just relax, Mulder.  She's
fine.  She wouldn't leave your sorry ass until
about an hour ago, when your fever broke."

Swallowing with relief, Gabriel waited as
Frohike came forward with a glass of water. 
"Drink," he ordered, and Gabriel gulped down the
coolness through parched lips.  "She's okay,
dude.  It's you we were more worried about."

Leaning his head back against the wall, Gabriel
sighed. "I'm okay.  I just want to see her."

"Kurtzweil said it would take about an hour -
he'd have to give her a mild sedative.  We had
to practically drag her out of here, you know."

"Did you tell her anything?"  She was bound to
have questions.  About the chip, the exchange on
the dam.  Why she was a pawn caught in the
middle of two old geezers' game of chess...
hell, much as he believed any wild story anyone
threw at him, he'd have trouble swallowing the
events of the last months.  Especially if he had
no memory to fall back on.

Skinner fisted his hands in his pockets.  "Only
that she had to let Kurtzweil do the procedure. 
She understood that to know more could possibly
bring on another seizure."  He smiled.  "Gotta
hand it to her - she said she wouldn't trust
anyone but you to tell her the whole story,
anyway."

It was best it come from him and they all knew
it.  Would she remember any of her life as
Scully?  Or, once again complete, would she
remember everything she'd done as Julia?  The
hazards of telling the tale would be numerous,
he knew.  And he wanted to help her across every
pitfall, hold her hand through each possible
trap.

He nodded, plucking at the bedcovers with his
free hand.  If he could move, he'd be out of the
bed in a flash, watching every move Kurtzweil
made.  But circumstances forbade barreling into
watchdog mode.  For him, anyway.  "Why aren't
one of you at least keeping an eye on things?" 
He was seconds away from exploding with anger at
their inattention.

"Byers is there," Frohike explained.  "He's not
much use otherwise, so he was drafted to oversee
the surgery."

"Not much use?  How badly is he injured?"  Some
watchdog.  If he was that bad off, he was
probably on some pretty heavy painkillers.

"Winged in the leg.  By the way he acted, you
would have thought he was mortally wounded. 
Just a scratch."  Frohike laughed and crossed
his arms with a wink.  "Once I pointed out that
chicks dig battle scars, he puffed up like a
rooster and took it like a man."

"Yeah," Langly sneered, "just what he needed.
*More* ego-boosting."

Before they could veer off into the usual back-
and-forth, Gabriel picked up his hand and put a
stop to it.  "All I want to know is if he's
alert and capable."

"Refused pain medication," Skinner said.  "He
knows how important this is to you, and to
Scully.  He's on top of it, and so am I.  I was
just about to walk to Matthew's room to check on
Kurtzweil's progress." With a nod, he made for
the door. "Just cool your jets, Mulder. 
Everything's fine."

As Skinner left, Gabriel realized he hadn't
asked about the boy.  Or given any thought to
his other traveling companions.  "Matthew?" he
asked Frohike. "Spencer and Krycek?"  He
remembered Jesse at the dam - in fact, he owed
the man a huge thank-you for nabbing Julia from
his failing arms.

"Haven't seen 'em since the dam; they were
already back on the train when we arrived in
Helena, I suppose.  Your doctor friend there
says the boy received the injection before we
even got back to the depot with you.  Dunno if
it worked; he said its effects weren't
immediately apparent."

But it had looked just like the vaccine he'd
given Scully in Antarctica.  Gabriel knew that
didn't mean a thing as far as what kind of
concoction it was.  Or even if his father had
given Spencer what the boy needed.  For all they
knew, it could have been weak tea in that vial.

"Do me a favor - catch up with Skinner and ask
him to find out about the boy." Now that they
were all relatively safe, he could allow himself
to feel for Spencer's grandchild.  Too little,
too late, he knew - as far as Spencer would be
concerned.  But he had to know.  His father's
treachery somehow extended to him, and he wanted
to at least show some sympathy, now that he was
able.

"Not necessary, Colonel," Krycek's voice cut in.

They both looked at the door, where the man in
black hovered, fatigue making his face pale
under the weathered tan.  He gave no indication
of his frame of mind, his face as stoic and
narrow-eyed as ever.  Gabriel couldn't see any
resemblance between this man and his supposed
father - then again, he never thought he
resembled his hateful sire, either.  What
mattered most was the legacy passed on that
wasn't visible.  Krycek had inherited that in
spades.  He hoped to never be able to claim the
same from his father.

"Nice job out there."  Frohike stood a bit
straighter and Gabriel cringed at the
unconscious display of respect.  No matter how
much Spencer and Kurtzweil proclaimed that
Krycek was a changed man, he would never turn
his back on the weasel.  And Frohike, it seemed,
was prepared to buy into Krycek's 'changed man'
routine somewhat, albeit unspoken.  But Gabriel
remained silent, his comfort level dropping
drastically with the arrival of their old
nemesis.

"The losses were... minimal."  Krycek cleared
his throat, obviously there to deliver news. 
"If you'll give us a moment."

Frohike nodded at Gabriel, telling him silently
that he wasn't going to wander far.  After he
slid out the door, Krycek moved forward a few
steps.  But he didn't get too close, stopping
just beyond the end of the bed.  "Matthew's
gonna be fine, according to Kurtzweil.  It will
be a few weeks before his immune system is
totally restored, but already, he's awake and
his fever is gone."

The news was enough to satisfy Gabriel; he was
glad the boy was going to recover.  It would
ease Julia's mind about leaving.  Not that he
was prepared to let anything stand in their way,
but in the state he was in, he wasn't up to an
argument on the subject.  It was time to make
the break.  His father was dead and Julia would
soon be Scully again - he hoped.  A few thanks
that would most probably choke him, especially
to this man, then it was goodbye forever.

Shifting slightly, he tamped down his pride and
began, "Look, I'd like to tell Spencer that -"

"My -" Krycek interrupted, "Spencer's dead."

At that, Gabriel lifted his chin.  "What?"

"You heard me.  He wasn't quick enough to get
free of the gunfire.  I found him mortally
wounded after we took control of the situation. 
He never made it back to the train."  For all of
the seriousness of the declaration, it was
impossible to discern Krycek's feelings on the
subject.  He looked as he always did, stone-
faced.  The only sign of emotion over the death
of his father the glittering of his dark eyes.

Any sympathy would be untrue and they both knew
it.  But Gabriel did offer some truth, saying
slowly, "I'm sorry... for the boy."

Krycek sighed shortly.  "He took it well.  But
he's just a kid."

Suddenly burdened with the responsibilities of
an adult.  "You can -"

"No." Krycek was adamant.  "No, I can't.  My job
here is done." He paused, then added with slow
deliberation, "And so is yours."

Gabriel snorted, wanting nothing more than to
leave the dust of the Ranch behind.  Seems
Krycek wanted nothing more to do with any of
them, either.  "Don't worry, Alex.  As soon as
Julia's able, we're gone for good."  It was more
for future reference than interest as he asked,
"And you?  Matthew can't run that company."

Chuckling, Krycek opened the door before turning
back for a moment.  "You said it yourself,
Mulder.  I'm just a gun for hire.  I have no
more business raising that boy than you... let's
just say neither of us have any 'fatherly
advice' to draw from, am I right?"

All at once, Gabriel felt the weight of
impending fatherhood settle upon his shoulders. 
Krycek had a point; he wasn't exactly prepared
by the best to raise a child.  But he had one
thing Krycek didn't - a partner.  A friend, a
lover... and one he was certain would be an
excellent mother.  Shaking off his doubt, he
pursued, "You can't let that company fall into
the wrong hands, Alex.  And that boy has no idea
what the outside world is like these days.  You
know that."

"He won't have to," Krycek answered, his face
sobering.  "Spencer told me long ago all he was
leaving Matthew was the Ranch.  The company, he
entrusted to me."

"You?"  Gabriel didn't know which would be worse
- a green boy or this mercenary bastard..  When
he prodded Krycek to help the boy, he expected
Matthew to have ultimate control.  A safety net,
so to speak.  He never thought Krycek would have
to answer to no one.  "Was he crazy?"

Ignoring Gabriel's incredulous question, Krycek
smiled.  "Looks like you're just gonna have to
trust me, Mulder."  His smile faded as he added,
"We've had our differences in the past.  But
believe me when I say I'm fucking tired of it
all.  The company will continue with Spencer's
work, with his goal of eradicating 'k' from the
planet.  I'll see to it." He paused in the act
of leaving, giving Gabriel a parting, "You just
leave me the hell alone, Mulder."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed and he threw out a
warning of his own.  "Don't give me a reason not
to."  As much as he wanted to live out his days
in peace with his family, he wouldn't hesitate
to hunt Krycek down if he caught of whiff of the
Project's resurrection.

"Then we understand each other," Krycek nodded. 
"So long, Mulder.  Let's hope we never see each
other again, huh?"

"Fine by me."  If never saw Alex Krycek again,
his life would be complete.

As Krycek disappeared into the corridor, Frohike
slid back in, his face guarded.  "Jesse just
informed me of Spencer's demise."

"Yeah, good news travels fast," Gabriel said,
then quickly amended his crass thoughts with,
"It's not over, you know."

His friend shuffled forward, hands in pockets. 
"Guess not.  Who knows where the company will
end up now."

"In Krycek's capable hands," Gabriel sneered.

"You're kidding."

"Nope.  He just inherited the whole problem, so
he says."

Frohike sighed.  "Look Mulder, I know you don't
trust him -"

"And I never will."

"But I have a feeling he'll do okay.  Besides,
we'll keep constant tabs on the company's
progress, you know that."

Gabriel sagged, all tension leaving him with
Krycek's departure.  "I just don't want to have
to deal with it anymore." He once thought he'd
hide with her and his child in Canada,
blissfully ignoring the rest of the world.  Now
he knew that wasn't possible; any threat to what
was left of civilization from anything alien
would be a threat to the ones he loved most. 
There would be no hiding.  No denying the fact
that he was somehow destined to jump in with
both feet, despite his new responsibilities.
*She* certainly wouldn't let him just sit back
and do nothing.  But damn it, he was so tired.

"You don't have to do this alone, Mulder."
Frohike was soft of voice and steadfast in
demeanor.  "You never had to, you know."

Gabriel lifted burning, hopeful eyes to his
friend.  "I never did tell you how much you guys
-"

"Save it." Frohike was as uncomfortable with
sappy thanks as he was; he stood, hands in
pockets, shifting from one foot to the other. 
"Just take care of Scully and that progeny of
yours.  If we need the master, we'll call,
okay?" He straightened, a smirk firmly in place. 
"Of course, you realize the Colonel's kung fu is
the best.  I seriously doubt your backup - no
matter how righteous - will be required."

"Good point," Gabriel smiled, for once not
mocking his friends' abilities.  They'd proven
themselves capable beyond his wildest dreams,
and it was about time he started treating them
with respect.  "One more favor, though?"

"Name it."

"Find out what the hell is taking Skinner so
long."  The dancing around thanks and
congratulations was all good and fine, but there
was a limit to his patience where she was
concerned.  And Frohike picked up on it at once,
turning for the door.

"No problemo, dude.  Be right back." Winking,
Frohike opened the door and left, only to fling
it open seconds later, his smile beaming.

"What?" Gabriel asked, the sudden satisfaction
on Frohike's face making his heart trip.

"Special delivery," Frohike said, standing aside
as he held the door open.

A pair of sock-covered feet came in first, so
small they seemed lost in the folds of the white
cotton that draped from her ankles.

Julia.  Cradled in Skinner's arms, fast asleep. 
Skinner tread lightly, swaying a bit with the
motion of the train as he side-stepped through
the door.

"Careful," Gabriel warned, his voice husky with
an overload of emotion.  She was okay.  Dead to
the world, but alive and well.

"Kurtzweil said she'd be out of it for a while
longer," Skinner said, approaching the bed. 
"But it's done, Mulder.  Out with the old, in
with the new."

"Here," Gabriel commanded, anxiety replacing any
thoughts of thanks for the moment.  "Beside me."
Struggling against the pillows, he grunted at
his helplessness.

"Easy, Mulder." Frohike was at his side, but
Gabriel paid him no mind.

"I have to see, damn it.  Help me up."  He
wouldn't be satisfied until he'd seen it,
touched it with his own hand.  A doubting Thomas
of the most frantic kind.

As Skinner laid Julia on the bed, Gabriel
scooted up with assistance from Frohike, his
gaze never leaving her face.  In her sleep, she
curled onto her side, gravitating toward the
sound of his voice.  Skinner quickly covered her
with the blanket and said, "You know, I never
realized what a little thing she is.  Even
pregnant, she's light as a feather."

Gabriel caressed her cheek with his free hand
and gave Skinner a tremulous smile.  "I wouldn't
let her hear you say that, sir."  Sobering, he
swallowed, adding, "*If* she's Scully again." 
Fear at the prospect of failure cloaked him. 
They'd deal with it, whoever she was fated to
be.

"No matter the name, Mulder - she's still the
same person.  Remember that."  With a nod at
Frohike, the two men left the room.

Still the same.  Skinner's parting words echoed
in Gabriel's mind as he looked upon her, taking
in the face she'd created to find him.  It
wasn't the same, that was true.  Her body wasn't
Scully's, heavy as it was with his child.  And
her mind?  Well, that remained to be seen.

But her heart, her soul... they were always
Scully.  Forever courageous and loving, willing
to sacrifice for others.  Giving all she had to
give to find the truth.  His and hers, he knew. 
His life, his journey, ceased to be solitary
from the moment she walked into his office years
ago.  And no matter what name she walked this
earth with, he would be by her side.

With a trembling hand, he brushed away her hair
from her neck.  He was in an awkward position
and his body hurt like hell, but he wasn't
letting it deter him from his goal.  She sighed
deeply, arching her neck as he drew the lacy
collar away from her skin.

The small square of gauze revealed by his search
covered a small bump, and he lightly pressed
down with his thumb, taking care not to cause
her any pain.  Even through the sterile
dressing, he could feel it.  The chip was there.

His breath left him in a soft chuff as the first
tear fell from his eyes.  Life.  Beautiful, long
life stretched before her.  He cried with thanks
to the heavens, to his friends, even to Spencer
and his father, despite their orchestration of
events culminating in this moment.

Sliding down in the bed, he inched his good arm
beneath her head and ignored the scream of pain
from his knee as he gathered her close. 
Breathing deep, he willed his tears to subside;
he didn't want her waking to find him a wreck. 
She smelled faintly of betadine, but mostly, she
smelled like Scully.  Warm and alive, even with
the slightly stale breath that puffed from her
lips.  Leaning down, he sipped of the life that
came from her mouth with his lips, careful not
to wake her.

She responded by shifting, her head coming to
rest under his chin.  Against his immobilized
arm, he felt her belly move, his child kicking
as she slept on.  With a deep sigh of relief, he
closed his eyes.


End Chapter Twenty-Nine