TITLE: Almost Home (6/?)
AUTHOR: Shoshana
EMAIL ADDRESS: [email protected]
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Gossamer, Spookys site, Xemplary,
etc.
SPOILER WARNING: Seventh season episodes through Requiem.
RATING: NC-17 (Most of the story is rated R, NC-17 parts will be
clearly marked)
CONTENT STATEMENT: MSR
CLASSIFICATION: SRA
KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully Romance
SUMMARY: Post ep for Requiem. Mulder comes back... but he's
missing something.
DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me.
NOTE: Thanks to my great beta readers Keleka, Lisa, and Teresa.

Almost Home (6/?)
By Shoshana

February 21st, 2001
Wednesday
8:00 a.m.

"This is more like it," Mulder whispered when he was certain she was
awake.

"Like what?" Scully asked.

"This is a much nicer way to wake up than yesterday, Scully. All
that banging on the door by Skinner interrupted a great dream I was
having... you know, the one with the beautiful woman in my arms?"

"Oh, is that what you thought I was? A hallucination?" she
replied, flustered by the compliment as it so easily rolled off his
tongue.

He kissed her cheek tenderly, then rested his chin against her
shoulder. His body was curled around hers, arms resting lightly on
the curve of her stomach.

"I'm pretty lucky you're not," he muttered into her neck.

She found his hands, warm against the fleece of her pajamas, and
covered them with her smaller ones.

"I'm glad you didn't sleep on the couch," she said.

"How could I? And miss this?" he teased.

"I wasn't sure how appealing a woman my size might be," she answered
quite seriously.

"You're enchanting, Scully... just the right size for me,"
he assured.

"Would you care for some enchantment now?" she asked coyly,
lightening her tone.

He paused for a long minute. For a moment, she thought she should
have kept her big mouth shut.

"I do. But I think we should wait a few days," he said slowly.

"You do?" she asked curiously.

"I have good reason to-- hear me out, Scully," he said, cutting off
any protest. "I, I feel like I'm competing with my other self, the
one that's known you for so many years-- the guy who's already made
love to you. I felt comfortable with you the minute you held my hand
and told me about our baby. But-- "

He leaned closer and kissed her cheek again, trying to reassure her
this had nothing to do with his attraction for her.

"I'll feel better when we're done with the hypnosis. There's a
possibility I'll remember everything from the last eight years. And
if I don't, at least I'll be relieved of that responsibility, in a
way. At least, for now."

"Responsibility?" she questioned.

"I want to be the man you know, the one you trust implicitly with
your life and your love. I seem to be having a bit of an identity
crisis. Especially after reading my journal."

"Did you finish?"

"Only through October 1999. I know about the surgery, the alien
craft, your trip to Africa. My eyes went fuzzy with fatigue last
night and I decided to go to bed."

She was silent for a minute as she considered whether to tell him
about Samantha. He needed to know. Her revelation about Daniel
Waterston last April paled in comparison with the peaceful vision
he'd had of Samantha in California.

"There's something you need to know, Mulder," she said, turning
around in his arms with the slow, measured movements of a very
pregnant woman.

He gave her his full attention, shifting his head so he could look
directly into her expressive, blue eyes, still hazy from slumber. He
caught her right hand in his left and nodded at her to continue.

"We found Samantha," she stated, her lips quivering ever so slightly.

There was pain in his eyes as he tried to restrain all the emotions
his sister's name called forth. He squeezed Scully's hand once, then
twice, his lips parting vainly to speak. He couldn't articulate the
sinking feeling this news was far from good. He knew about his
sister's clones, and another, very plausible woman he'd met in a
diner several years ago. He couldn't believe any of them were really
his sister, not after reading about the Smoking Man's other dirty
tricks.

Scully continued, ignoring his tongue-tied silence, "She lived on a
military base in California after she was taken from your home. We
assume she was with Cancer Man and his family. She was subjected to
tests by the Project; we only know because she kept a diary of those
terrible years."

Scully paused, gathering strength to go on. She licked her lips
once, then continued, "You found her diary after a psychic guided us
to the house they'd lived in. After an impromptu seance, you knew
just where to look for it-- we read it together, over coffee in an
all-night diner. The next day, with the help of some of our
resources, I found more information about a runaway admitted to a
local hospital. We used old hospital records to find the ER nurse
who'd taken care of Samantha. You asked me to speak to her; you
seemed too overcome by the moment to do it yourself. I entered the
old woman's home and you didn't stick around-- you wandered off into
the forest for about ten minutes."

"Did she tell you anything definitive?"

"The nurse remembered her very well. She thought Samantha had been
an abused child. She checked up on her that night, and had a vision
for a few fleeting seconds-- she thought she'd seen Samantha dead,
covered in blood. The hallucination lasted only a few seconds; she
chalked it up to working too many hours, not wanting to admit the
vision was real. Spender came the next morning to get Samantha, and
she was gone. Just gone-- from a locked room."

"What do they think happened?"

"What's important is what you thought, Mulder. You returned from
the woods, and you said this was the end of the road. That you were
fine. That you were free."

"Did I ever tell you what I'd seen?" he rasped, fighting to contain
his sadness.

"Later. You told me later. You saw Samantha and other children
who'd been rescued by 'walk-ins.'"

"Spirits that rescue children who are the victims of child abuse or
serial killers. Their bodies are never found. I've read about this
in the literature. Parents usually have a precognitive image of the
child, already dead," he explained.

"Yes. That's almost exactly what you told me last year. The
psychic told you the spirits intervene, transforming matter into pure
energy. Starlight. That's why no one finds their bodies."

"We were in California for this, or another case?" he asked.

"There was another case, a child molester and murderer. We found
graves behind a Santaland where the man worked. Harold Piller, the
psychic, approached us. He ended up helping us with our
investigation and led us to Samantha's old home. Poor man. Even
when you came back from the woods and told him his son was
all right--"

"His son was missing also?" Mulder asked incredulously.

"Yes, that's why he worked these cases; he was looking for his son.
But he didn't believe you, Mulder, and I have to admit I didn't
either. At first. But I saw how much peace you gained-- you'd seen
her, in starlight, among other laughing and playing children. You
described it to me so beautifully--"

Scully started to cry softly, periodically dabbing at her eyes with
one hand. Mulder leaned over and gently kissed the tears from her
feverish cheeks. He wept too, eventually nestling his face against
her shoulder.

"I guess this was the catalyst," he mumbled.

"What?" she replied, confused.

"The reason we became--" He lifted his head from her soft pajama
top, taking one second to brush her hair back from her brow. Her
entire face was tear-stained and he wanted to wash all her sadness
away. He pressed his right palm to her cheek and finished his
sentence, "intimate."

Scully smiled brightly, then twisted her head toward his hand so she
could rub against it like a kitten.

"Partially," she said demurely.

"Partially," he repeated, as flatly as possible.

"I had my own epiphany last spring. An opportunity to reconcile my
past with my present."

"Be less cryptic, please," he begged.

"I ran into an old flame and realized how much my world view had
changed-- since I'd met you, since I'd been on the X-Files. I was
able to help him recover physically from an illness, but he still saw
me as the same person I'd been ten years before, when I was at
medical school."

"He was important to you?"

"Very much so... at the time. But he was married, Mulder. I didn't
realize his duplicity until I became involved with him. I got out of
the relationship right away... for his family. Apparently, he never
reconciled with his wife, because he wanted me to start all over with
him last spring. I knew I couldn't do that and it wasn't only
because of our differing values. It was you, Mulder. You. I could
never leave you for anyone else."

She whispered these last words, kissing the palm of his hand. He
gathered her in his arms, joining their lips in a breathless kiss.
He nuzzled her neck affectionately, pausing to enjoy her sweet,
distinctly female fragrance.

"Mulder," she sighed impatiently.

"Hmmm?"

"I hate to break the mood, but I really need to leave," she said.

"Leave where?" he asked, confused, and perhaps a little bit worried.

"I have to pee, silly. Not leave *you*!" She untangled herself
from his warm and comfortable body and swung her legs over the side
of the bed. "I guess you've always been a bit insecure," she teased
playfully.

"Not so. Not me," he denied quickly, eyes brightening as their
somberness fell away.

She rolled her eyes at his speedy contradiction, then rushed to the
bathroom. She wondered how she'd ever made it this long. Maybe it
was the new company she was keeping, she mused happily to herself.

She was glad they were renewing their intimacy at a glacial pace.
It made perfect sense, considering how long it had taken for them to
become lovers. She thought back to the night she'd run to his motel
room in 1993, terrified her mosquito bites were of alien origin.

If he'd reacted differently to her and taken advantage of the
situation that night they might not have stayed partners very long.
This man was Mulder circa 1993-- and nothing but a gentleman, then
and now. He treated her with kindness and respect,
not lasciviousness.

As soon as she emerged from the restroom, Mulder zipped right past
her, nature calling him too. She noticed it was nine o'clock
already. How the hell did it get so late? They must have slept very
late, and then they'd talked, and then they'd kissed--

She looked forward to being completely alone at the summer house
with no distractions-- other than black-gloved thugs out to kidnap
her baby. Reality was setting in fast this morning. Their lives
would never be simple, and they would never live a placid existence
without constantly looking over their shoulders.

She'd known that from the very beginning of her tenure on the X-
Files; danger had stalked them on almost every case they took on.
Things were not going to change soon unless they could defeat the
machinations of the Consortium. And they'd need lots of help to do
that.

Sooner or later they'd have to enlist Skinner's help. He was still
their friend, no matter what power Krycek held over him. And they
should certainly sit down with the Lone Gunmen and explain Mulder's
amnesia in detail.

She thought of the hypnosis session that afternoon. Maybe Mulder
would learn something, anything, of value to cure his memory loss.
She didn't expect eight years of memories to come flowing back all at
once, but if he knew why he'd had his mind tampered with, at least
he'd be able to deal with it better, maybe attain a little peace of
mind.

She decided to make coffee before getting dressed for whatever
errands needed to be done before seeing Dr. Werber. She yelled
something to that effect at the closed bathroom door, then left the
bedroom in search of her morning brew.

*******

Office of Dr. Heitz Werber
Silver Springs, Maryland
1:00 p.m.

"I'm very glad to see you again Agent Mulder, Agent Scully. And I
guess congratulations are in order for both of you," Dr. Werber
remarked in his quiet, dignified manner.

"How did you know?" Scully asked, wondering if the whole world knew
she was pregnant.

"Assistant Director Skinner has kept me informed of your situation.
He came here a few months ago. He thought hypnosis might help him
remember some pertinent facts, anything which could help him find
Agent Mulder. He inadvertedly told me about your child. I'm sorry
if I've said anything to offend you."

"Oh, no. No, Dr. Werber. It's quite all right. But considering the
unusual medical condition Mulder is experiencing, I must ask you to
keep this session completely confidential. Perhaps not even noted in
your files?" she added.

"That would be fine. I was puzzled that we didn't do a pre-
interview on the phone, but I chalked it up to the confidentiality of
much of your work," the doctor commented.

"Why don't we all sit down and get comfortable before we start the
session and you can fill me in on any other details," he offered.

Mulder and Scully sat side by side on the large maroon couch. Dr.
Werber sat down in a chair directly across from Mulder, notebook in
hand.

"Please tell me how I can help you," Werber said.

"Dr. Werber, as you already know, I was missing for the last five
months. I don't have any idea where I was all or what was done to
me. Of and in itself, that would be hard to deal with, even though I
have no lasting mental or physical problems from my captivity. The
greater problem is much worse-- when I woke up in a Bellefleur,
Oregon forest on Monday, I had no recollection of the last eight
years. I initially thought I was in New Jersey, still chasing a UFO
sighting in January 1993. I recognized the flora and fauna as that
of the Pacific Northwest, and I knew something was very wrong. I
hitched a ride to Portland's airport and thought I'd stepped into the
Twilight Zone-- as you can well imagine. That's it. The essence of
my problem," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders resignedly.

Dr. Werber had been listening attentively and nodded his head,
weighing the information.

"I've had amnesiac patients before. We've had some success in
recovering their memories. How are you doing in general now? Do you
think you're ready for this?"

"Yes, I do." Mulder reached over and grasped Scully's hand. "I
have some fine people in my life who've been more than
understanding."

"Okay. We'll proceed then. I know you're familiar with hypnogogic
trance. I'll talk you through the steps, even though you already
know them. Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, relax your
body. Long, deep breaths. Relax your hands, relax your feet. Relax
your jaw, your pelvis. Take long, deep breaths."

Mulder followed the doctor's instructions, opening himself up to a
light trance state. He was still holding Scully's hand when he
slumped into the comfortable couch. She could tell when he saw
something in his altered state; his grip tightened, and his whole
body became tense.

"Oh, God. I'm here," Mulder said tautly.

"Where are you, Agent Mulder?"

"I'm on a ship, I think. I don't know. All the walls are white and
I can't move. I don't feel any pain, but I can't move. There's
nothing on the walls, no furniture except for the table I'm lying on.
I'm not cold; I'm not hot. I can't feel myself breathe. It's like
all my bodily functions are regulated by someone else. Oh!"

"What is it, Fox?" asked the doctor.

"A gray just walked in. Now another one. I understand them.
They're talking about me-- I know too much. I'm the most successful
test subject-- but I know too much. They're going to return me. Oh,
God. They're going to return me. They've decided to erase my mind
of all I've learned. I can read their minds, but they don't know why
I can do it. They saying to each other they can't let me remember.
Oh, fuck. They're going to screw it up! Oh, God! I don't know why
I know, I just do."

"Are you still in the room, Fox?"

"I am, I am-- I can feel one the grays in my mind. He's doing
something. Oh shit, it hurts my head. I can't take this. I'm
getting dizzy... I don't get dizzy. I'm--"

Mulder's head fell limply forward. His body inched off the couch,
and Doctor Werber leapt to his feet, preventing him from falling
over. He helped Scully position him in a prone position on the
couch, allowing her to check his vitals. He had his cell phone out,
ready to call an ambulance if necessary.

Mulder started to groan while she did her routine check; his eyelids
fluttered open as he grimaced in pain.

"Ow! Shit! What the hell?" he grumbled.

"Mulder? Are you all right?" she asked worriedly.

"No, Scully. I need pain killers. My head!" he howled.

"We have ibuprofen. I don't think we should give him anything
stronger, Dr. Scully, until you can determine why he fainted,"
advised Dr. Werber.

"Didn't faint. They fucked up. They took eight years of my life
away. It was only supposed to be five or six months and they took
eight years," Mulder moaned.

Dr. Werber's assistant arrived with tablets and a glass of water.
Mulder leaned sideways to swallow the medicine.

Scully sat next to him, having pulled the doctor's chair beside the
couch. She made him lie back down, and despite their audience she
caressed his forehead, trying to help him relax. His hands were at
his sides now, trying to respond to Scully's soothing ministrations.

"Just relax, Mulder. Just lie still awhile. There's no rush," she
crooned.

"No, there's none at all. My assistant and I will leave you alone,
if you like," Dr. Werber offered.

"Thank you, Doctor. We'll just be a few minutes," Scully responded.

They left the room and Mulder groaned again, less inhibited with
only Scully present, "Oh God, Scully. The fucking aliens screwed up.
I could feel it happening. I could feel the loss. It hurt so much,
so much. I must have been unconscious when they dropped me off in
Bellefleur. I had a headache when I woke up, but I just thought I'd
been cold-cocked by someone."

Scully was leaning closer to him now, both hands soothing his
temples. She quipped, "Wouldn't be the first time, huh, Mulder?"

"Oh, you're making a joke," he complained back sarcastically.

"Sure, I am. I'm so damn happy you didn't lapse into a coma just
now, Mulder. Let's not try this again. At least for awhile, okay?"

"I don't *ever* want to try it again! Damn, my head's still
pounding."

"Just take it easy. I'm sure it's not permanent," she assured him.

"Oh, not permanent. Like my amnesia is?" he scoffed.

"You don't know that! You don't know what they made you believe,
Mulder! Maybe they implanted false memories. You don't know what's
real and what's not. You can't give up hope-- we haven't even begun
to pursue other treatments," she asserted.

Mulder took several long, deep breaths, shutting his eyes and
flattening every inch of his body against the couch. Scully
continued to smooth back his hair, then found a handkerchief in her
coat pocket to mop his brow. He smiled up at her when he opened his
eyes again.

"I love you."

"I know," she smiled back. "Relax. Close your eyes. We're not
driving anywhere tonight. I'm changing our plans right this minute,"
she asserted.

"Okay," he mumbled, trying to unwind while she gently caressed him.

Scully stroked his face, trying to relax every tight muscle. Her
strong hands felt like heaven to Mulder and he almost dozed off in a
blissful haze. The headache was fading fast and he knew he ought to
tell her, but he was enjoying this all too much. Then he remembered
how worried she must be, and how very pregnant she was and decided to
curb his selfish motives.

He stilled her hands, opening his eyes and saying, "I'm better.
Much better. Let's go home, Scully."

Scully smiled at his recovery, rising to her feet and holding out a
steady hand. He accepted her help gladly, swinging his legs off the
couch, then standing up on slightly wobbly legs.

"Whoa, be careful now. You might be a little woozy," Scully warned.

"Real men don't get woozy," he declared solemnly.

Mulder attempted a few steps on his own, but his lurching feet
betrayed his lightheadedness. He looked over at Scully despondently,
then managed a weak smile when she wound her arm around his waist to
support his forward movement.

She chuckled at his grumpiness, "Come on, real man, let's get out of
here."

fin

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