Overweighted

Chapter One

By RocketMan

=====

Rating: PG

Categories: S, X, A, R

Keywords: Mulder/Scully UST/Romance

Summary: A little girl is found to have extraordinary abilities.

SPOILER::::::US5 up to THE END:::::::

Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is

intended. Helen Nobel is mine.

=====

Often, when I dream, thoughts pass through my mind like cowled shadows,

silent and remote, and disappear . . . There are also rare and beautiful

moments when I see and hear in Dreamland. What if in my waking hours a

sound should ring through the silent halls of hearing? What if a ray of

light should flash through the darkened chambers of my soul? . . .

Would the heart, overweighted with sudden joy, stop beating for very

excess of happiness?

-- Helen Keller: diary excerpt

=====

I am myself.

I have these things around me: a furry animal with a stitched on mouth,

a soft blanket that tightens across my shoulders when I sleep, a wide

room that inhabits the darkness perpetually.

Here, in this room, people come and visit me, to touch my hands and

talk.

They call me H-E-L-E-N.

That's a very long name.

H-E-L-E-N.

That's five letters that are hard to make in a row like that. And it's

hard to tell an H from a G sometimes, and other times, I want to think

my name is G-A-L-A-M, because of the way the letters feel.

I have darkness all around me and it's like looking straight into time

with wide eyes that know everything there is to know. But really, I

don't know if that's true because I've never seen before.

I've never seen. I've never heard.

I sometimes wish I could, but not really too often. I've never done

either, so I guess it's just cause I don't know what I'm missing.

But I don't have to pay attention to anyone, if I don't want to, and I

can stay here, in my dark room, for as long as I want. For forever.

Jane, the woman who teaches me, is very nice and she stays silent the

entire time we're together. I know this because I don't feel the sound

vibrations when she's with me.

I once had a teacher scream at me, and I could feel every unheard

syllable slamming into me like a wall of light hitting my eyes.

Jane doesn't talk and I wonder if she's deaf too.

In this darkness, it is only me, only me and a ghost named Helen Keller

that everyone keeps telling me about. Helen Keller, the one these people

named me for, because we're exactly alike.

I can feel her sometimes, right in the dark room with me.

She touches me and her touch says that it's okay to want to be scared,

it's okay to not feel like this is right.

This isn't right.

I'm not sure why, but what has happened to me, ever since I was born, is

not right. I was supposed to be normal and seeing and hearing, but

instead, I have this dark room and all its secrets.

At night, in dreams, I don't like the secrets it shows me.

~~~~~

"Mulder?"

"Yeah . . . I'm coming."

She held the elevator button longer, her finger aching by this time, the

chiming doors longing to close and start on its way back up.

He slid inside and she let go of the leash and the elevator seemed to

rocket skyward, thrilled at escaping the basement.

Or maybe that was just her impresseion because she herself was thrilled

to be away from the basement for awhile.

"Sorry, I was trying to get my tie right," he murmured.

It was hot in their office, since no one really remembered that they

even had an office downstairs, or even remembered that it was summer and

they needed air conditioning.

Every day, he came in, shed his suit jacket and tie and unbuttoned his

shirt all the way until his T-shirt showed, along with his sweat.

She changed completely when she got there. Her hose came off, her

pantsuits were discarded and she shrugged on a tank top and shorts.

He always scowled and pretended he wasn't still hot while she was

comfortable.

She just counted on the fact that no one wanted to come down there when

it was so hot.

And apparently, she was right. Skinner had called them up to his floor,

asking them to hurry.

Scully had changed right there, in front of Mulder, because, frankly,

she just didn't care. Mulder had gaped at her a second, turned around to

give her a bit of privacy, then hastened to get his shirt buttoned and

tie on and had still made them late.

She turned to him now, quickly redid the knot and straightened his tie,

all while he made choking noises and hung his tongue out.

She wrinkled her nose and turned back just as the doors popped open,

leaving Mulder with his tongue hanging out while co-workers looked on

with knowing smiles.

Scully zipped out of the elevator and Mulder gave everyone a self

satisfied grin and followed her.

~~~~

Skinner sat calmly in his chair while he talked in his gruff, monotone

voice about expenditures and vacation time and other schedule type

things that he was required to tell his employees about. Even if they

knew already and could probably recite his speech in their sleep.

Then he gave them a few new potential cases that had come across his

desk instead of theirs and they could tell he didn't like that he was

being associated with them all the time.

If stuff hit the fan, he wanted to keep his job.

They walked back down to the elevator afterwards, silent and respectful,

and went on down, Mulder shedding his tie and shirt as the car plunged

back into hell.

~~~~

Jane comes running into my room, I can feel her panic roil in waves off

her and the vibrations of her thundering jar me out of sleep.

She yanks on me, pulls me up, jams some clothes over my head, then my

arms are shoved through my jacket, her breath tickling my ear.

I may be only four, but I can put on my own clothes.

I frantically sign towards her, shoving my hands into hers for her to

tell me what's going on, but all she signs is this:

No time.

These signs frighten me and I grab my shoes and pull them on as she

picks me up, cradles me to her chest and starts running.

I feel panic claw around us, choking me, pulling at me as she had been,

and I know there is someone, someone here.

Someone here.

I sign this on her cheek, a place she will feel it if she's not watching

my hands in her run.

She freezes and I can feel every cell in her body screaming.

Screaming into my head with voices I've never heard before.

Helen, my ghost, whispers with her fingers that I will be all right.

A hand closes around me, the dark closes around me: I've never been out

of that room, out of this place before in my life.

The hand pulls, the hand has something that I can feel is death.

Death rushes past me, I can feel the heat and the speed of it, I can

feel the life drain from Jane, feel the vibrations and shock waves as a

person is snuffed out.

She's gone, falling to the floor.

I am held up by a man.

I shiver and jerk and pull hard and bite and make noises but I don't

know what I'm saying or screaming or maybe just whispering.

*I can't see**I can't hear*

I can't see.

All I feel is death.

Then nothing.

~~~~~

She looked kind of cute, there, standing in the doorway after a quick

trip to the bathroom down the hall.

"Mulder?" she said, glancing at him as he kind of stared.

"Oh, new case, Scully."

She nodded and he could swear that she was wearing shorter shorts every

day just to get on his nerves, although it really wasn't nerves that

were benefiting.

He watched her walk into the office and settle herself into the chair,

her toned body perched elegantly there like a dove or maybe, sometimes,

like a hawk.

She waited for him to start and gave him a warning look that told him

she knew he was staring and wasn't appreciating it.

"A little girl from a special institution in California was reported

missing last Thursday. In conjunction with this, her teacher, Jane

Phelps, was found murdered on Saturday in the basement; however, her body

had been dragged there. We got this case on Friday, but I didn't think

it warranted anything until I got the update this morning."

"Mulder, this is awful, but I don't see how this is a case for us. I

mean, yes, it is something to be solved, but why can't the local police,

or even local Bureau handle this? And why did a runaway merit our time

in the first place?"

He nodded and she realized he had this look that told her he hadn't

given her all the information. He liked to do that.

"This little girl is four years old, Scully, and shows signs of an

enmormous I.Q. in excess of Einstein or someone similiar. She's also

deaf and blind."

Scully sat there for a moment, her eyes never leaving his face, but her

mind obviously somewhere else, thinking.

"So she's been kidnapped."

"I wouldn't think a deaf and blind girl could manage to escape the

institution, and especially not kill her teacher. Also, her teacher was

deaf as well, and it looked like she was killed trying to save the

little girl."

"How do you mean?"

"Blood was found in the hall outside the girl's room; also, the girl's

jacket and shoes were missing, indicating that someone was trying to get

her to safety."

"Ah. So basically this is merely a challenge for you? No X-File or

anything?"

"Well . . . "

"Mulder, please don't tell me she's been abducted by aliens."

"No, just that I think there's a lot more to this than a simple

kidnapping. First of all, there is no clear motive yet. The girl

supposedly doesn't have any family; she's an orphan --"

"Wait. If she's an orphan, then who pays for her to remain in this

institution?"

Mulder looked at her knowingly, a smile of pure delight on his features.

"You're turning me on, Scully."

Her eyes rolled and he stood. "So, the question is, who's behind all

this?"

~~~~~

end chapter one

adios

RM

Overweighted

Chapter Two

By RocketMan

=====

light keeps on breaking.

i keep knowing

the language of other nations.

i keep hearing

tree talk

water words

and i keep knowing what they mean.

and light just keeps on breaking . . .

--Lucille Clifton, "breaklight"

=====

She watched him argue with the rental agent and his hands sort of make

motions in the air as if by waving them around enough, he could conjure

up a car.

He let his shoulders slump in defeat and shuffled back to her.

Seeing her silhouetted by the sun's birthing of night, standing softly by

their luggage with a small gentle smile on her face, he couldn't help

watching her as he made his way back.

She cocked her head for an explanation and he shrugged and sighed.

"No luck, Nancy Drew. They don't have our car."

"Didn't you make the reservation?" she said, letting the comment roll of

her like water on feathers.

"Yes." he said testily, rubbing a hand over his face. "I really,

honestly did. Somehow, though, they don't have them."

"So . . .?"

"So I guess we take a taxi?" he indicated, wincing at the thought of

another one of Skinner's long drawn out speeches on the horror of

expense reports.

She sighed. "That might not be such a good idea in light of our recent

beratement."

He nodded and hefted his carryon over his shoulder. "Well, let's go

catch the bus, Scully."

She stared at him for a second until she realized he was serious.

"Okay, the bus."

~~~~~

Helen Keller says things to me while I'm here. She tells me not to be

afraid of them, she tells me to just play along: it's a game and it has

an end.

I think Helen Keller is nuts. This isn't a game. I'm trapped by darkness

and trapped by silence and nothing is making it to me.

I can hear things inside my head and they scream at me to do something,

but I'm not supposed to hear.

Oh, please, I'm not supposed to hear.

Make her go away.

~~~~~

Buses had to be the most filthy and the most disgusting mode of

transportation alive.

The most.

She had definitely made a solemn oath never to let him drag her onto a

bus again.

Even their somewhat cheap motel seemed like a Godsend compared to the

bus. It had a nice carpet that didn't smell too much like smoke, along

with heavy gold curtains that were from the seventies, and a plastic

table propped against one wall.

Yes, propped.

And it was the best they could get.

Apparently, the motel manager hadn't gotten Mulder's reservations.

Apparently Mulder had made them.

Apparently.

She sighed and chucked her stuff on the bed farthest from the bathroom

and gave Mulder a huge, you-better-pay-me-back-for-this look.

He shrugged and collapsed on his bed, spread eagle and oh-so vulnerable.

She thought momentarily about throwing a pillow at him, but was afraid

he'd take the opportunity to do some serious damage.

She sat down across from him and waited.

After a long silence he spoke up:

"Let's go get some dinner, Scully."

She cleared her throat to make him look at her and shook her head.

"Mulder, what's going on?"

He winced. "How do you mean?"

"Don't jerk me around here, Mulder. You obviously know something about

this that I don't, because *someone* has gone out of their way to make

sure we're pretty inconvenienced here. And you don't look surprised."

He sighed and picked himself up off the bed, straddling the corner of it

a bit so he could look off into space and not really into her eyes.

"I have some pretty bad theories."

"After five years, Mulder, I've heard most of your bad theories."

"After five years, this is the worst. The worst for you."

Scully felt something horrible growing in his words and she almost

wanted to forget the whole thing, roll over and sleep away her

suspicions.

"Scully, have you looked at the photo of the little girl?"

The deep knot of fear tangled around her windpipe and she mutely shook

her head.

"It's . . . it's her."

She knew immediately who "her" was and it felt like a huge landslide had

crushed her.

"What?"

Mulder stood and grabbed the casefile, pulling it from his bag and

offering it to her like a peace treaty.

To her, his gesture seemed oddly like a terrorist, handing over a bomb.

She opened the file with shaky fingers and clumsily pushed away the

paper to reveal the picture.

Emily.

Emily, oh God, Emily.

"No."

It couldn't be so bad, not again, not again, Oh God, not again.

Mulder took it from her trembling hands and pulled her to his chest,

frighteningly quiet in the numbness of the revelation.

"It's like the Eves, isn't it Mulder?"

He buried his head on top of hers, breathed in the sickly sweet smell of

tears and skin, and tried to find something to say.

"I don't know.I don't even know if she's . . . I don't know."

Scully pushed him away and stood up, blindly making it to the window and

the cheesy curtains from a long forgotten era.

"Mulder, I think it's time you told me what happened. What did you find

while I was sick?"

Her eyes were catlike when they turned to stare into him.

He was frozen.

~~~~~

I push my hair away from my face, trying to push away the cobwebs of

thought snaking around in me.

For some reason, my head is picking up sounds and sights, and my ears

and eyes aren't.

I think I have always been able to do this thing, but only with Jane.

Sometimes, I knew what she was going to sign, what she would need to say

to me. It was like a dormant thing, this new sight and new hearing.

Now that I've re-established myself with my dark room, I can find places

to hold comfort.

I am in the corner of this place, crammed there and never coming out.

I'm trying not to hear them; their thoughts, their sights and words

scare me. Sometimes it is almost as if I can hear entire conversations

in my head, because they think what they say.

Othertimes, I wish I could curl up and turn this off.

I don't want to hear. I don't want to hear.

Please, please, make me deaf again.

~~~~~

Dinner was tasteless, but necessary. She had a feeling she would need

the energy before the day was through.

She had a feeling things were going to come together right here, right

that night.

So it was somewhat anti-climactic when they ended up curled on her bed,

watching a rerun of a new Moby Dick remake, with Patrick Stewart.

It was all right.

She wasn't too much into it, though, considering the fact that the

little girl's face kept swirling around, kept matching up to Emily's

birthday photo with too much accuracy.

The shadows and the lights formed by the television put her into a kind

of trance and before she knew it, she was letting her eyes slide shut

and her mind drift off.

Just as she was about gone, she felt Mulder's arm curl around her and

rest on her stomach comfortingly.

She felt safe there.

~~~~~

I want to sleep.

I just want to sleep. The darkness is black, black, and holding out its

arms like a mother and I wish I could slip right into it.

But I keep seeing something.

I see a dark room with television shadows, but I've never seen a

television, so how do I know that's what television shadows look like?

Something is whispering to me this information.

It sounds like Helen Keller, just as before, but this time, I see the

woman's voice for what it is -- not Helen Keller, but someone else.

And she's not really speaking to me.

She's in the dark room, asleep, speaking on dreams.

She has a dream about a little girl. She wants to have a little girl

like that; she wants to never have to say good-bye to another little

girl like that.

She has a smile for a friend holding her tightly, a smile for him and a

secret feeling that froths in her eyes.

The television shadows flicker around her face and she tells me that

things are going to be okay once she finds me.

She will find me.

~~~~~

end chapter two

adios

RM

Overweighted

Chapter Three

By RocketMan

=====

"My eyes have seen all this, my ears have heard and understood it.

What you know, I also know. . ."

--Job 13:1-2

=====

I can feel her here near me.

Her heart and blood are the same as mine, this woman I thought was Helen

Keller's ghost. She is sleeping and dreaming of me, she is tired and

wishing I was there with her.

I wish I was there with her too.

I'm cold. The floor is too hard.

~~~~~

"Scully?"

She stirred and her eyes slipped open suddenly, letting in the meager

light from the bathroom.

He was standing above her, his face old looking before his shave, and

his eyes dull in the dimness.

"I'm awake," she mumbled.

He nodded and went back into the bathroom, leaving her to find reality.

Her head was confused this morning; she couldn't seem to remember what

had happened or why she and Mulder were in the same room. Odd dreams

were plaguing her.

She sat up and stared around the room, licking her lips because they

were dry and rubbing her forehead.

Mulder came back out and took one look at her and smiled.

"You okay?"

She glanced up at him with an almost timid look and sighed.

"Mulder . . . I really have no idea."

He sat down on her bed and couldn't help grinning. "Wasn't it good for

you?"

She looked horrified and he burst into laughter, making her hit him

hard.

"What are you messing around for?" she said, scowling.

"Sorry, too good to pass up."

"Seriously, though, Mulder. I can't . . . I can't, oh."

Her face cleared and she frowned. "Emily . . . and this girl."

Mulder sighed and nodded, then moved to stand.

"Mulder, what would you say if I told you I thought I knew where she

was?"

He whipped around, then stood very still as if moving would break her

courage.

"What do you mean, you think you know where she is?"

Scully licked her bottom lip and curled up on the bed, sighing. "Never

mind, I just had some odd dreams."

"Scully . . . I need to tell you something."

She was lying on the bed, looking up at him from the side and wishing he

weren't so tall because it ached her eyes to crane that far.

"The little girl, Helen, that's missing, is supposedly . . . well, I

think she can associate with people's minds."

Scully jerked up, feeling her heart beat painfully slow in comparison to

the adrenaline surging through her.

"What do you mean?"

"Remember the blind woman who had that connection with her father

because he had murdered her mother?"

Scully nodded carefully.

"Well, some of the teachers at the institute said that Jane Phelps and

Helen had a special bond, one so odd that once when Helen had fallen

down some stairs, Jane had known the instant it had happened."

"So what are you saying Mulder?" Scully could feel things sliding into

place, into places where she didn't want to go.

"I think your dreams might be her attempt to connect with you, Scully.

If she is . . . if she is . . . it would make sense."

She sat there, feeling stunned and sick and wishing this had never

happened to her.

"Mulder . . . " She whimpered and buried her head into her hands,

wanting to fall right through the floor.

He didn't move to touch her and she was grateful for his gift of

dignity.

"You drive. I'll point it out." she finally whispered.

~~~~~

My dark place is big and sometimes, I can feel sun, so I think it's

bright, but my eyes don't work so I can't tell.

I can feel lots of dust crawling on my skin like bugs and a few actual

creatures managed to make their presence known to me. I also think I

felt a mouse brush by my hands. They're tied together and if I try to

move them into a more comfortable spot, I fall over. I don't move; I

don't want mice crawling over my face.

I'm hungry and my stomach moves around in me, making itself known too.

But most of all, I'm thirsty, and my lips are cracked and dry.

I don't know exactly why I'm here. I've heard them speaking about

things, about killing me, but they think I can help them with something,

or someone. I hear their fury at each other, I see their faces twisting

in rage, I hear them wishing they had not made me.

They made me.

How could they do that? My parents . . . I don't know my family except

for what Jane said.

I hope, oh please, don't let Jane be gone. I can't see her anymore, I

can't hear her soft voice in my head . . .

Please don't let Jane be gone.

How could they make me?

~~~~

"Okay, this street?"

"Scully, can you be a bit more postive than that?"

"No." she said shortly. "I can't help it Mulder. All I got were little

snatches of real things. Most of it was feelings."

"Feelings?"

"She's cold."

~~~~~

I shiver again and suddenly, the not-ghost of Helen Keller is very close

to me.

Very close, this woman near me, near my blood and body.

I reach out my mind ears and I can hear her being mad, being sad, I can

see her hands twist on the door handle and I want to talk to her.

I want her to find me.

What happened to Jane?

~~~~~

"Mulder!"

"What!"

"Here. Turn here."

"But you said not --"

"Do it, Mulder!"

The car spun out a bit as he wrenched the steering wheel and she held

tightly to the door, praying silently that somehow this was right. Even

if she might never explain it, she wanted it to be right, for Mulder to

be right.

She was cold.

~~~~~

When the building came to her, it was like a huge monolith, blazonly

declaring its occupants.

"That's it, Mulder. That's it."

"Okay." he said softly and looked at her again, his forehead wrinkling

up.

"Is she doing it right now?"

Scully's eyes were tightly closed and she clamped her hands around his

upper arm to silence him.

Then she jerked out of the car.

"Scully!" he yelled and scrambled out himself.

"It's just her. No one else."

"How do you know that for sure? She's blind and deaf, Scully."

Dana said nothing and simply walked over to the door and began opening

it.

He ran after her and kept her covered with his gun, just in case.

It was bright and sun speckled in the building, its dark metal girders

given a shine in the direct beam of nine o'clock morning. Scully was

standing in the middle of the place, her face contorted in a look

somewhere between bitter disappointment and confusion.

"Mulder? Where is she?"

He shrugged and slowly twisted around, his eyes peering into the more

darker areas of the corners.

And then he saw a small figure, huddled tightly into a ball and so very

still.

He ran through the sun shafts and felt her coming behind him. The little

thing shifted and her face turned to the place where they were.

Her blonde hair was matted and bloody, her eyes dark and liquidy, but he

could tell that there was something very wrong in their shape.

He slowed and crept very carefully up to her, crouching down next to her

and offering a hand, hoping she would not be afraid.

Her hands shot out and grabbed his possessively, her fingers moving over

his palm in an effort to speak in her own language, while still tied by

abrading packing twine.

Scully stood off at the side, watching and hurting and not able to come

closer.

Mulder reached down and gathered the little girl to him, holding her as

she franticly signed, her fingers traveling anywhere and everywhere to

convey her message. He slipped the string off and her hands twisted.

He wished he could communicate with her. He knew the letters of his name

and that was about it.

She was trembling in his arms and making frightened animal noises that

sounded to him like a puppy caught in a bear trap.

He took her fingers and stood up, then managed to spell out his name

into her palm, stroking her hair as he did so.

"Scully?" he called and looked to see her with her arms crossed, doubt

on her face.

"She's not Emily. She's not the same."

"No, not really. But she looks . . . she looks almost exactly the same."

Scully's head tilted and he could see she was biting her bottom lip.

"She's cold," she said sadly and came forward, pushing off her own

jacket to drape around the girl's shoulders.

Helen smiled then and leaned forward, as if reaching out for Scully to

hold her.

A pause and then Dana took her in her arms and cradled her there.

~~~~~

end chapter three

adios

RM

Overweighted

Chapter Four

By RocketMan

=====

"But let him remember the days of darkness, for they will be many."

--Ecclesiastes 11:8

=====

The little girl was curled up in her arms, her head resting against

Dana's shoulder and her breath tickling her neck.

Mulder watched them in the semi-dark of the motel room and waited for

the phone to ring, for the news to come back.

The institution had finally conceded to allowing Helen to stay with

them, since her captors had not yet been caught, but only after teaching

them both a variety of standard signs. A limited conversation could be

held and they could spell out just about anything.

When they had figured out what Helen was asking the entire time, it had

been very silent for a long awkward moment.

She was asking about Jane.

Mulder had to tell her that Jane was gone.

She had made primitive mewling noises, almost like a kitten mourning for

a mother.

Scully had held her very close and tried to comfort the wailing child,

but it seemed as if Helen had closed herself off to anyone.

Now, after carefully taking blood samples from Helen, they were waiting

on the results, both DNA and toxicology, just to make sure nothing had

been done to her.

Mulder sat anxiously in the plastic chair and hoped that this was not

Scully's child, yet also, he wished it was.

He had to admit that on second glance, Helen was different from Emily.

She was not an Eve, but she was very, very similiar. Almost as if they

had the same mother, but different fathers.

Fathers.

He felt a shudder run through him. Just who or *what* were their

fathers? Aliens or humans, or an odd combination of both?

Were Helen's blindness and deafness the effects of a human and hybrid

cross?

He stood and stumbled into the bathroom, retching and trying not to let

that image stay in his head. He knew it had all been some kind of

sterile lab experiment, but still, it made him sick to think they had

done that to Scully, to Emily, possibly to Helen.

The phone shrieked at him and he clicked it on before Scully or Helen

could wake up.

Softly he answered.

"Agent Mulder?"

"Yes."

"Well, sir, we have the reports back on the blood. It's got some

oddities to it, but nothing . . . ah, extraterrestrial in origin, sir."

Mulder felt his body slightly relax.

"See the real mystery is this, sir: Her DNA seems to be a match with

Agent Scully's and yours."

Mulder's mouth dropped open. "Mine?"

"Yes sir, we typed it as a control. When we got some screwy answers, we

had to start over with a new control, and that time, against yours."

"Are you sure?" he demanded.

"Yes, sir. I'm faxing you the report now. Good night sir."

"Ah, good . . . good night."

He hung up and watched in dumb amazement as the fax machine lit up and

began rollng sheets of paper to him.

His DNA?

~~~~~

Scully was reading it again, for about the fifth time when he came back

in with the ice bucket.

She looked up at him and then back to Helen, who was doing a sloppy job

of eating some potato chips. Mulder could not look in her eyes; instead,

he walked over to the table and plopped two cubes of ice into Helen's

Coke and touched her shoulder.

She signed thank-you and guided the straw to her lips.

Mulder marveled at how well Helen manuevered around places, at the grace

she possessed even though deaf and blind, and at the innate sense of

boundary that she had for things.

She caught his hand and pulled him closer then made an unintelligible

noise and kissed his cheek.

He smiled and ruffled her hair, then turned to where Scully was watching

them.

"Mulder?"

"Scully, I'm sorry," he said immediately.

She shook her head. "No . . . I'm . . . I'm glad it's you and not . . .

not someone, or something else."

He sat down on the bed and looked hard at her, making her turn her head

and sit down awkwardly next to him.

"Do you think Emily . . . ?" she murmured.

He sighed. "I don't know. It wasn't even something I thought about. The

things I saw at that retirement home . . . all I thought was how

horrible it was."

"Mulder, I don't think Emily was. Helen is different. She looks . . .

she looks like Emily with you in her."

He looked over at the little girl quickly. "She looks like me?"

Scully smiled and her face saddened. "Her eyes, when she's listening

inside of herself . . . her eyes are yours."

Mulder grinned suddenly, his mouth turning into a huge smile of silly

good fortune. "This is . . . strange and wonderful all at the same

time."

Scully sighed. "I keep trying not to love her . . . I don't want to be

left again if they . . . if she dies."

Mulder looked back at her for a moment, then took her hand. "I think

that's part of love, Scully. Having the courage to love when it can all

be taken away in the blink of an eye."

"I don't like it much."

"But really, even without . . . without CancerMan's friends breathing

down our necks, we're all in danger of dying. A car wreck, lightning . . .

cancer."

She turned to him and her eyes were deep and dark, almost like Helen's

when she wasn't focusing on things. He saw pain in them and it hurt him

that she felt awful about such a wonderful gift.

He'd been given a daughter; he'd been allowed to be the father of . . .

her child.

And she was grateful it was him.

"I guess," she said softly. "Anyway, it's too late now. I'm already

falling in love . . . with her."

~~~~~

They like watching me. I can feel their eyes on me and they talk to each

other in softness: I can barely feel the air moving around their lips

and voices.

Mulder is nice to me and he's always careful to make sure I have what I

want. Dana keeps her arms around me when I dream about bad things.

They both are confused.

But I know. Jane told me my Mommy and Daddy were important people who

didn't even know they had a little girl.

The air in here is so charged, so changed, I can tell that my Mommy and

Daddy now know they have a little girl.

I want to make them see me, I want to see through them.

I drop the chips back onto the old, plastic table and stand up, reaching

out with just the barest touch to establish where I am in my dark room.

I can picture it with the help of my mind eyes. I can see the old

mustiness of the room, the two unmade beds, the soft grainy curtains and

thick carpet. I step forward to where they are on the couch and worm

between them, my eyes open and trying to train on where I think their

faces are.

I lower my head and take Dana's palm, place it in my lap so that they

both can see what I sign.

I have to spell out the question part at first and I can feel their

breath as they murmur the letters.

And then the regular signing.

I feel the dampness of her palm, the tingling of her blood through the

tips, the muscles working and relaxing.

I sign:

Are you my mother?

~~~~~

Dana felt her hands constrict around Helen's little fingers and she

glanced up at Mulder with dazed eyes.

Mulder signed yes against her cheek.

Helen signed Daddy back to him and took their hands in hers.

<Do I have to go back?>

The room was pressing down on them, and Mulder stood suddenly, bringing

Helen with him to let her know he was not running away from her.

Scully stood and they all went outside, sitting on the steps leading to

their motel and smelling rain and concrete.

Helen was in Mulder's lap, placed almost between them and hanging on to

his neck with both hands.

She was very silent and still as she processed the new environment and

analyzed her new dark room. She knew they were outside by the smell of

living things and rain, and she feel the cool wind across her skin

drying the sweat of a summer day.

Scully reached out and touched her cheek, an unconscious movement to let

her know where they were.

Helen laid her head against Mulder's shoulder and wrapped her baby

fingers around his neck.

Mulder looked to Scully and saw the same gentleness in her eyes that he

had been so shocked to find in Home, and again when she was with Emily.

That gentleness that was mother, that was soft sighs and caring hands,

that was love and reassurance.

His eyes spoke with hers and slowly, Scully signed against Helen's arm.

<You don't have to go back.>

~~~~~

end chapter four

adios

RM

Title: Overweighted

Chapter Five

By RocketMan

=====

Dedication: I can't believe how many e-mails I got telling me to

continue! It's so awesome that there are people out there reading, and

knowing it yourself. This is for the following:

Kim, Starbuck, Harriet, Polly, Angie, Scott, Natasha, Shannon, Lucy,

Angela, OrangefuzE, Jaime, Jackie, Snoopy8040, and Lauren.

=====

"And like the mute man I will mouth my pain so that only I can hear it."

--Vanessa Len, Clock Eulogy

=====

He just paces.

Back and forth across the room. With one glance now and then to me,

which I know simply because he is staring so hard I can feel it. He

stops once in a while to touch my cheek, thinking I don't know where he

is.

I am curled on his couch, waiting for something to happen, for Dana to

come back with whatever it is she left looking for. She's not as excited

as Daddy is. She keeps thinking of the other little girl she lost and

how it could happen all over again. But Daddy's joy is a wonderful wave

of pure thrill that bounces around in him.

Tonight, the air is still, the smells are far away and Daddy is waiting,

so I wait here too.

I know that Dana is my Mommy, but she's too scared to think like that,

so I try not to upset her. She's afraid I'll have to leave.

I want to stay here with Daddy.

~~~~~

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now.

There she was -- his daughter -- and he didn't know what he was

supposed to do with her. What could they do? She couldn't see him

or hear him!

After a huge mess with the Californian institution, Mulder and Scully

had managed to prove that they should be awarded temporary custody,

since her captors had not been caught and no clear motive had been

established.

Although, they both knew why she'd been taken.

She was theirs, and someone didn't want that known.

Or maybe it had all been orchestrated so they would find out.

Helen moved slightly and her small body twisted to place her head in his

lap. He sat awkwardly for a minute, then hesistantly ran his fingers

through her hair.

It was blonde and soft and smelled like his summers in Martha's Vineyard

when things were good in his family. He smiled and she stretched her

little frame out along the couch.

"Don't need my bad habits . . ." he murmured, before remembering that

she could not hear.

He and Scully had been commanded by the state to take comprehensive

lessons on basic American Sign Language, but the slightly moderated

version for those that had to touch to speak and hear.

It was easy for him, but Scully struggled through it, forgetting just

how to hold her hands and fingers to mean a thousand different things.

She was growing frustrated because she couldn't communicate with Helen,

even though she was really trying.

They had two more weeks of it, every night, before they were through.

And after that, Mulder had no idea what would happen.

There was no way they'd get custody when their availability was weighed

against Helen's special needs. They worked too much, and it wasn't

conceivable that they could change that.

He wanted to change, just as Scully had promised with Emily, but he had

a feeling that the state wouldn't see it like that.

Helen's fingers went to his hands and he waited, but she made no attempt

to "speak" and he let her little palms play in his. She made the letter

"H" over and over as if it was a new toy, then strung together a

complicated fragment of half thoughts and ramblings, almost as if she

were thinking out loud to him.

It was crushing his heart to think he wouldn't be able to have her.

He was already in love with his little girl.

Helen's head jerked up and her face tensed: the door opened and Scully

came in, a stormy look of anger and fear in her face.

Mulder watched her move into his apartment with a fluid grace that he

saw in Helen when she manuevered around the room. She was alternating

between biting her lip and crossing her arms.

"I got the review back, Mulder . . ." she said and her mouth was moving

even after she stopped speaking.

Helen curled tightly in his arms and he tensed for bad news.

"They don't think . . . they don't think we're responsible enough . . ."

He watched in stunned silence as her eyes seemed to tremble, then grow

watery from the tears she held back.

"What does that mean?" he said softly. "We can't have her?"

Scully couldn't sit down; she paced in front of his couch and glanced

agonizingly at him and Helen for a few seconds before returning her eyes

to the sheet in front of her.

"Scully! She's ours! What the hell do they mean? They can't just say

no."

"They can and they are."

"No. No, I won't let them do that. What would have happened if we'd had

her normally, huh? They wouldn't come and take her away from us. They

couldn't. They can't just . . . they can't . . ."

But she was shaking her head and refusing to look at him squarely.

He wanted to shake her and make her stop pacing like a caged panther,

her muscles bunching and smoothing and tensing beneath her legs and jaw.

"Scully, please, I'll quit the X-Files, hand everything over to you and

go teach somewhere or live in Alaska where no one has ever heard of

government conspiracies . . ."

He placed a hand unconsciously to Helen's head, burying his fingers in

her hair and biting his lip. Her dark and sightless eyes came to stare

at him and he wished that for once, she could see how much love for her

was in him.

"Please, Scully. Tell me what I have to do. Tell me how to keep her."

His anguished eyes rose to meet an equally tortured soul.

She shook her head and collapsed next to them on the couch, reaching

out a tentative hand to stroke Helen's cheek. Their little girl was

strangely still, as if she knew and could sense the horror taking place

around her.

"She needs a family, Mulder. She needs a family."

His eyes cut into hers desperately, his hand reaching out to clutch

hers.

"We can be her family, Scully. We can."

"I know we can Mulder. But they won't . . . they won't see our

arrangement as beneficial to Helen. Besides, they're probably

right. Getting shipped from your place to mine and back and

everything . . ."

He shook his head violently, his eyes cast in the same light that told

her he had a crazy theory.

"No, we can do this together. I swear Scully . . . We can make her a

family, just us. I want us to be a family."

Her lips parted in surprise and she stared at him.

"Us? Are you . . . do you mean . . .?"

"I mean, us. A family in the same place, under the same roof, stronger

together than apart. We're best friends, Scully, how hard is it to take

that further?"

She stood suddenly, backing away from him. "Mulder . . ."

"Please, Scully. For Helen. I want to be able to see my little girl

every day of my life. I want to watch her grow up and be able to protect

her. If . . . I have this chance to make things right for her, for you,

then I don't want to miss it. I love her, Scully. I never thought of

having kids, but I like the idea."

She stopped moving away from him. "So we just live together, is that

what you're saying?"

He nodded. "That's it." <For now.>

She looked at Helen, at the way the light on her face hid her more

angular jaw and dark eyes and presented an Emily look-alike to her

grief again.

"I don't want to lose Helen, too," she said softly.

She came and sat back down.

"I want us to be a family." As she spoke, her eyes slid up to Mulder's

and he saw a thousand wodnerful things in them that told him this would

work.

Helen's hands shot up between them and signed on the side of each of

their cheeks, I love you.

Scully and Mulder each took a hand and kissed her palm.

They signed back: We love you.

Scully looked up at him.

"So, I get the X-Files, huh?"

~~~~~

adios

end chapter

RM

Overweighted

Chapter Six

By RocketMan

=====

Dedication: Okay, I got even more e-mail today and found that more

people had written. So this is for Yolanda, Joseph Nichols, Melissa

Rios, and all the people out there who teach sign language, especially

Miss Doughty.

=====

"He has driven me away and made me walk in darkness rather than

light . . . He has made me dwell in darkness like those long

dead . . . Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so

great is his unfailing love. For he does not willingly bring

affliction or grief to the children of men."

-- Lamentations 3: 2, 6, 32-33

=====

"Mulder, I want her to go to church with me."

Scully twisted around in the couch, watching his form walk along the

floor like a caged panther, rippling and moving and never staying

still.

"I don't see how she'll get anything out of it."

Dana's stubborn chin stuck out and she glared at him. "I'll sign it

to her."

"Scully . . ." he chided softly, a veiled reminder that she wasn't good

at signing yet, let alone could she attempt to follow an entire church

service.

"Mulder, please . . . it's important to me."

"But . . . "

His protest dwindled as he realized she would do it no matter what he

said.

"Fine." he murmured. "Whatever."

Scully sighed as Mulder stalked out of the room, heading towards the

extra bedroom that he had placed Helen in. She still couldn't beleive

that she had moved in with Mulder, in his apartment no less. The main

reason was that he had two rooms, both of which he didn't use. His

bedroom he gave to her, and the extra one they cleaned his office

supplies out of and let Helen have.

The court had gone for their arrangement only after they had

demonstrated their seriousness, which was all made up anyway. The

judge had even gone so far as to ask when they'd be getting married.

Nervously, they had said there was no set date.

The judge had wanted to be invited.

This made Scully almost panic.

She couldn't marry Mulder . . . yet what opportunities were available if

she lived with him? No one could know that they weren't together or else

the court would take Helen away from them.

She was stuck. She had to live with him . . . maybe even marry him.

She sighed as he stepped into Helen's room, wishing that somehow, things

might turn out okay for them.

~~~~~

Sunday morning, Mulder made them breakfast and said that he was coming

too, just to translate more effectively than she could.

It was partly a barb to get back at her, and partly a need to make sure

they were all right and that Helen didn't feel stranded in a new place.

Scully had dressed her in a light blue sundress with large print white

flowers on it. Her hair was brushed back with a white barrette and she

wore white sandals. Mulder had to admit she looked adorable.

Her eyes were wide and brown and dark and they made a startling contrast

against her blonde hair and blue dress.

Scully was in beige and green and her eyes seemed to come alive with her

dress and were magnified with the small amount of make-up she applied.

Mulder didn't want to say anything that might make her uncomfortable,

but he smiled and kissed her forehead before herding them all out the

door.

As they walked to St. James' Cathedral, Mulder held Helen in his arms

so they could walk faster and Scully tucked her arm through his. They

waited for the light to change and pretended they were a normal couple

out walking.

Helen buried her face in his shoulder and closed her eyes.

~~~~~

"She's asleep," Scully whispered to him.

Mulder smiled and looked down at Helen's still form, her head pillowed

in Scully's lap and framed by Scully's hands.

Her breathing was slow and he reached over and caressed the side of her

face before lookng back at Scully.

"I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time. I had a bad experience with

religion and it left a bitter taste. But if this is what shaped your

life, then I want it for Helen too," he said.

The priest was speaking on unconditional love and his soft voice was

lulling the entire congregation to sleep, despite the efforts of the

choir to pep things up a bit.

Scully smiled and took his hand. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, if church made you the wonderful person you are, the great

friend and beautiful mother you are now, then I want that for Helen."

Scully's eyes grew gentle and she smiled sadly at him, trying to

understand where his words fit into their new partnership.

"Thanks, Mulder . . . that's sweet."

"It's the truth."

He slid closer to her and placed his arm on the back of the pew,

encircling her shoulders and letting his hand come to rest on the

back of her neck.

She wished she could figure everything out, but his words and his

actions and her heart were saying a million different things.

She wearily let her head fall to his shoulder, acutely aware of every

sensation riding through her.

~~~~~

She stood up slowly in the room, walking to the floor length mirror

that Mulder had in his bedroom -- now hers -- and watched herself for

a moment.

Could Mulder want this?

He might. Why else come to the conclusion that they had to live together

in order to keep Helen? There could have been other solutions, surely.

They could have worked things out like divorced parents did.

She sighed and ran her hands down her pants to smooth out the invisible

wrinkles. She bit her lip and looked at herself critically one last time

before turning away.

The thing about the room was that it smelled like Mulder. During the

day, she had to strain to catch the scent of him, but at night, in the

bed that once was his, she was engulfed by his aroma. It was buried in

the sheets and stamped on the pillows.

She liked falling alseep to his smell.

It was almost like he was there, holding her.

~~~~~

Mulder waited until she was changing in his old bedroom before he

slipped into the bathroom and slumped against the wall. It was the

last private place in his apartment and he needed to be alone,

desperately.

The thing about the bathroom was, it smelled like Scully. Her shampoo

and soap and body flavor were showered onto the tile and imprinted

into the air of the bathroom. He could close his eyes and feel her

right there with him.

He wasn't sure what they were doing anymore.

At first, it was his mad attempt to hold on to what was precious to

him, mainly Scully and Helen.

Now, there was something slowly simmering between them.

Sitting there, he wanted to throw open his bedroom door and find her

stretched out on his bed, perhaps writing something or just relaxing,

and go up to her and take her in his arms and just kiss her.

Kiss her until she killed him, or kissed him back.

It was the scent of her that now drove him crazy, just as the sight

of her going off to sleep in his bed made him nuts, and the sound of

her sighing at night when she thought he couldn't hear, and the feel

of her when she brushed by him, and his imagined taste of her.

He rose and opened the door, intoxicated on his false bravado, then

happened to meet her as she was coming out of his room.

Standing there, eyes locked and hearts beating too fast, he couldn't

move.

She brought her hands to his chest and laid them there, waiting for

something within him to break.

His head tilted down and his lips brushed her forehead, equally

dismaying her and thrilling her.

Then his hands went to tangle in her hair and his lips were meeting

hers and the only thing she could think was --

<This is love.>

~~~~~

end chapter

adios

RM

Overweighted

Chapter Seven

By RocketMan

=====

Dedicated to Juliettt (J3) for her encouragement.

=====

"you have three monsters

thrashing in your dark room:

they never brighten

they take long breaks when the oven is on and

cinnamon comes stretching its fingers

through their matted fur.

they breathe in when tiny spiders

weave their unseen webs

across their dancing nerves.

they pucker their red lips

when lunch is tuna fish and pickles

and love just the same.

you have three monsters

grieving in your dark room:

grieving

for their two lost brothers."

-- "for Helen Keller," Laura Bontrager

=====

I keep feeling Jane.

I block out my senses and there she is: breath fast against my cheek,

heart fluttering like a worm in a bird's beak, hands gripping me too

tightly. She yanks me up and runs . . . and runs . . . and we run

forever . . .

Dana is there too; I can feel her hands snatch at me as we fly by --

she is angry and wishing I had not come.

I can feel them every time I sleep and they wake me up.

I go to this place outside of me where I don't have to feel anything,

where my mind's eyes and ears don't hear the sounds of unsaid sorrows.

I wish I could stay in this place forever and never have to go back.

It is silent here. Silent like it used to be for me. There are no mad

people, no incoherent ramblings, no abused words, or minds, or children.

I can stay away from things and feel nothing but this silence.

It is so nice. So very blessed . . . I want to stay here . . . stay here

forever.

~~~~~

Dana watched the little girl lying very still on her bed, her hands

clutched together and tucked tightly to herself.

Helen's eyes were shut and she looked asleep, but she wasn't.

Scully didn't know where the little girl had gone, only that her spirit

wasn't there anymore.

~~~~~

The windows were bright and let in all the light coming from the dying

sun. He squinted and wished she wouldn't open all the curtains, wished

she would just leave things alone sometimes.

He turned on the couch and shuddered as the warmth was taken away.

Looking up, he saw her standing right over him, her hands working

nervously together, as if she didn't know quite what to say to him.

"I'm worried," she blurt out.

He was worried too. He was scared to death, actually, afraid that his

stupid emotions or male hormones, or whatever, had gotten away with

him and that she would never be comfortable around him again.

"Helen . . ." she started, then trailed off at the look in his eyes.

He sat up and his feet thumped heavily to the floor. He sighed a long,

grieving sigh that ripped from his chest and across to her.

She noticed how his hair seemed golden with the light playing along it,

how his eyes were as deep and mysterious as horses' and how his hands

gave her the feeling that everything would be all right.

She moved to squat down next to him, taking one of his hands that were

cradling his face.

"Helen's not good, Mulder. I don't know what's wrong with her, but she's

just not here . . ."

His face came out from behind his hands and she jerked back.

"There are a lot of us that are just not here."

She stood again and moved over to the window, attempting to keep down

her fear and sense of . . . of forever . . .

She was going to be doing this forever. Helen would grow up with them,

and she would always be running around trying to pick up Mulder's

pieces. She wanted the best for Helen, and she did love her . . . she

thought she did. But how hard would it be if they sent Helen back to

her school? Back to the place where she was most comfortable, back

where she had an entire family helping her and not some thrown

together mess.

Otherwise, she was going to be doing this forever.

"Scully . . ."

She angrily wiped the scalding tears from her cheeks and turned around.

He was standing and coming up to her, his eyes no longer far away, but

right there with her, looking only at her, thinking only of her.

"I just want to make the most of this that we can." he whispered.

She froze and moved away. "Making lemonade out of lemons, huh? That's

great . . . that's great --"

"No, Scully. That's not what I mean."

"Then why the hell can't you just say what you mean!?" she screamed,

knowing full well that she could end up hurting him, or hurting herself

when this was over.

"I do say what I mean! I've been saying exactly what I meant since we

ever --"

"Like hell, you have. Like hell . . ." she sputtered furiosuly, mainly

frustrated with herself.

"Then to hell with this, Scully. Forget it. You obviously don't care

what happens to Helen. So why should I? I'm just the donor, or

something, right? So go ahead, whatever it was you were planning on,

go right ahead."

She sank to the couch and watched his tirade numbly, feeling all energy

seep out of her and puddle in the floor.

This wasn't fair.

She hadn't asked to be taken, to have something mess around with her

body, to have things be created in her image.

"That's not fair," she whispered.

He sat came to tower over her. "I never said this would be fair Scully.

No one promised you that."

She wouldn't cry in front of him, no matter how much she was hurting.

"My father said that --"

"If your father told you that life was fair, then screw him. It's not.

It never will be -- no matter how much you try, how much you go to

church, how much you sit there and pretend that nothing can hurt you. It

won't ever stop hurting."

She stood and shoved him away with as much force as she could, then

blindly reached for the door.

He watched her flee and didn't attempt to call her back.

She needed to think about things. He needed some time to himself.

~~~~~

Silence.

It's quiet and black and forever, like the ocean is when you first put

your foot in and it swirls all around you and you think you could go on

swimming in it until you dropped right off into space.

But it's more.

It's drowning in the ocean and not needing air or light or breath. I can

stay here with silence holding me up, buoying me in its swells of

darkness.

A jellyfish stings across my skin and I gasp back suddenly into feeling.

He's here.

Daddy is crawling up next to me and laying a worn hand across my

forehead, then patting my cheek.

I open my eyes, letting him know I'm awake.

He sighs and leans over and kisses my cheek.

When he leaves, I can still taste his tears and his fear like stinging

tentacles of a jellyfish.

~~~~~

Dana ran from the bus stop to her own apartment, her key clenched

tightly enough to make imprints in her fingers.

She stomped up the stairs as if she were running for her life and

slammed headlong into the old man that she used to live across from.

"Ahh, Dana! I've haven't seen you in a long time, young lady."

His sagging eyes were crinkled with long years and happiness and his

hands shook from working hard for a living and losing his wife to

cancer a few years back.

"Hey Mr. James. I'm not really back. I told you I had moved in

with . . . ah, Mulder?"

"Oh, hunh. Nope. Can't say I remember you telling me. My mind's like

a sieve nowadays."

"That's all right."

She wanted him to just go on, to leave her alone and let her just

scream and scream and scream until she was sobbing and gagging on

the floor.

"Are you okay, Dana? Haven't got people after you?"

She smiled sadly. "No, Mr. James. I'm fine."

"No, you're not, but that's all right if you want to lie to me. I'm

just an old fart anyway, right?"

She gaped at him. "No, no, sir. Mr. James, you're not --"

"Stop lying to me, Dana. I suspect that's your problem, isn't it? The

reason you're all ready to cry?"

She sighed and then snuck him a mocking look. "You always were a nosy

old man."

He grinned with pleasure and patted her arm. "Ha, ha! That's it, tell

the truth, now. Remember, Dana, things won't work unless you tell the

truth."

He turned and began walking away, his gait shuffled and agonizingly

slow.

"Mr. James?"

He turned and winked.

"Thanks."

~~~~~

It was dark when she crept inside.

Mulder must have pulled the curtains shut again and turned off all the

lights.

He liked darkness.

She supposed Helen didn't care one way or the other. He and Helen were

a good match, both moody and always just waiting to find something

better.

There would be nothing better.

He was right. They had to make the best of it.

Not because they were stuck together, but because they *were* together.

She took a shaky breath and tucked her key into her pocket once again,

but she was pretty sure she wouldn't ever feel that trapped again.

Licking her upper lip, she carefully tiptoed along the hallway, stopping

when she came to Helen's room.

Her little girl was curled up on the floor, one arm around a teddy bear

the other stretched out and grasping something.

As she got closer, she saw Mulder on the floor, where he had evidently

posted himself by her bed. It looked like Helen had crawled out of bed

to come sleep with him.

His hand was clasped in hers and his face tear streaked and old looking.

She wished she could make life fair for him. For once.

He seemed unwilling to face things sometimes, but also, he could be

ferocious about something he loved.

It looked like he was loving her.

She sank to her knees and padded up to them, then sat there, watching

his chest rise and fall and his hand curling in Helen's.

She gently reached out, her hand shaking with tentativeness and need.

His shirt was soft and cotton, his arm slack and toned under her hand.

She let her fingers splay across his bicep, then slide to his back. He

twitched in his sleep and sighed.

She pressed her face into his shoulder blade and slipped her arm around

his chest, feeling like she was holding onto him against the tug of the

world.

Settling down into the floor, she closed her eyes and prayed to fall

asleep.

~~~~~

end chapter seven

adios

RM

Overweighted

Chapter Eight

By RocketMan

=====

Dedicated to John Moore, for his enlightenment.

=====

"Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe."

-- John 20:29

=====

Life comes back to me in shifting waves of thought and feeling.

Cresting over my consciousness, first comes warmth, like liquid fire

banked for the long journey.

Troughing and sputtering, then come my remaining senses: taste, touch,

and smell.

There is dust and thick socks in my mouth and a layer of salt tears

covering my tongue.

There is rough wood and a body and a wool blanket and someone's breath

like a mother's whisper across my neck.

There is cologne and him, and sea breezes and her, and then the scent of

Pine-Sol and floorboard and dustmotes.

I reach out a hand and my dark room expands and my mind's eyes see this

place with frightening clarity, as if everyone has released some great

tidal wave of emotion.

I am oriented.

I feel him there with me, about a foot away, his chest rising and

falling. I meet an arm and it is her: she is loosely holding him, as if

she is content in the knowledge of him.

Things begin moving and life begins taking place again.

I don't want to have to help it out. I want to go back to the silence.

There's too much . . . just too much.

I feel the ocean crashing into me: ocean waves of nothing churning out

my fear.

~~~~~

Mulder came awake in a panicked moment of confusion.

Arms and warmth and three bodies when there should have been one -- his.

He relaxed when he smelled Johnson's baby shampoo and Tide detergent,

smells he had never before realized were there until Helen had pointed

them out to him.

He felt something too.

An arm, snaking around his chest and a face buried into his back.

He turned and his whole body hitched.

". . . Scully . . ." he whispered and it was like God had given him back

something more important than sight or hearing, some other sense he had

never used. As if belief was a sense.

He laid back and closed his eyes, trying to imprint every detail of her

into his senses. Helen had taught him to appreciate the smell of someone

you loved, the taste of something you took for granted, the touch of

skin gliding across yours in the briefest of gestures.

First it was the touch that came to him.

Her bare arm was warm, pulsing slightly with the blood forcing through

the partially blocked pressure point. Parts of her skin were cool, as if

the blood didn't quite reach. Each hair on her arm was soft and small,

tiny antennae that whispered to his chest and set his nerves alive. Where

her fingers touched him were electrical points of conducting electrons,

jumping from cell to cell like dancers to good swing music. The dance

crept up his chest and to his throat and made a space there to stay,

throbbing and pulsing like a second heart.

Then the smell of seashores and summer and sleep all mixed with

something that he could never analyze but was always Scully. Lakes and

rocks came to him, long talks with intellectual words used to hide true

meaning, late night motel room visits with candles or computers or

cases, and a certain silent strength that both bended and yielded but

never broke.

His lips ached to taste her, to have this memory, this sensation also.

When things were still and he was certain she was asleep, he turned and

managed to catch his lips on her shoulder.

He breathed.

It was mainly soap and sweat, with skin and something else. Maybe

something that was also distinctly her.

He did not know yet.

With these three satiated, he listened.

Listened for Helen because she could not, and listened for himself

because he could.

There was no way to describe the sound of love breathing next to you, in

your hearing, wanting to be there.

The floor felt like it was spinning away in a dizzying downward hurtle

and he gasped and opened his eyes.

Dana Scully, sleeping beside him.

She was beautiful, to every sense he had.

And some he didn't.

~~~~~

end chapter eight

adios

RM

Overweighted

Chapter Nine

By RocketMan

=====

"I have lain on the floor of the sea and breathed with the breathing of

the sea-anemone."

-- TS Eliot

=====

"She makes me see things differently," he whispered.

Scully's head jerked up from where she was helping Helen tie her shoe

and blinked a few times.

"What?"

"The way she describes something makes me look at it differently. And

then I turn around and something else is changed."

Scully smiled and moved Helen's hands back to her laces, in the right

positions so she could get it done.

Her nimble fingers fumbled on it and ended up tangling herself in the

string.

Scully stroked her cheek and tried again.

"Why don't you let her have a break?" he said suddenly.

"Because she wants to do it." she replied, looking up at him.

Her mouth was slightly parted and he could almost feel how her breath

was, sharp and winded from frustration.

"She makes me see you differently, too."

She smiled. "Did we switch subjects again?"

He grinned. "Come on, Scully. You've always been able to follow me

before."

"I just pretended, Mulder. I have never been able to follow you."

But she was grinning and her voice was laughing at him.

"She does."

"Follow you?"

"Ha. Yes. But I meant, she really does make me see you differently."

"Good?"

"Good."

Helen made her animal noises and threw down her laces and pushed at

Scully's hands.

"Doesn't look like she wants to do it, Scully."

"Well, too bad. I'm going to make her."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Mulder you can't go easy on her becasue she's deaf and blind. She needs

to be treated just the same --"

"I'm not trying to go easy on her. If this was our kid and she could

hear and see, I'd still tell you to let her have a break. There's such

a thing as too much. She'll begin to think it's impossible and then

not ever really try."

Scully glared at him and Helen shifted uncomfortably.

"She is our kid." she said icily.

He ignored the slip. "Scully, I did major in psychology . . ."

She gently pushed Helen from her lap and signed "later" into her hands.

Helen smiled and bolted for her Daddy, throwing her arms up and waiting

with unseeing eyes for him to pick her up.

He swung her around and nestled her to him.

There was a lot of silence in their home.

Silence, but words were being said, either with eyes or hands.

<Don't fight> she signed.

Mulder glanced to Scully, seeing if she had caught that.

"Mulder . . ."

"How could she know?" he said, frowning. "We weren't yelling or even

really angry. How could she know?"

"She can't *hear* Mulder. How did she know?"

Mulder rolled his eyes. "That's right Scully. I just said that."

"You are so sarcastic today," she murmured, shaking her head.

She turned to the table to pick up the trash from lunch and heard him

yelp.

"Mulder?"

She was by his side before the dazed look passed from his face.

"What's wrong? Mulder?"

He jiggled Helen and then eyed Scully. "She signed . . . told me not

to be sarcastic."

Scully's breath came sharp, quick. "What do you mean, Mulder? That she

can hear us? That she's been faking? There were tests, they --"

"No, she's not faking. She's got that connection, Scully. The one that

led you to her, it's back."

She shivered. "Or maybe it never left."

~~~~~

It was fun playing with them. They were being mean and I wanted them

to stop. I didn't want to tie my shoes anymore and I wanted to make

them stop falling into the same routine.

Insult, apology, insult.

That's how it goes now. They can't stand being trapped together even if

somewhere, they love each other, even if they love me.

I'm not supposed to make it.

I'm going to die and then they can go back to themselves.

It'll be okay again.

~~~~~

"She makes me see you differently."

"You said that."

"Scully, shut up and listen to me."

She gaped at him, but did.

"She's made me realize that we're not too good to each other. We fight

a lot, but mainly, we just don't fit. I think . . . I think we should

try something different."

It was as if love was being squeezed right from her body, along with

all her blood.

She didn't know what to say.

She sank to the bed, eyes blank as he watched her.

She was taking it a bit too seriously.

"Why don't I start sleeping in my bed again?"

She frowned, clearly not understanding.

"Oh. Okay. I don't mind having the couch --"

"No, Scully."

"You -- you want me to leave --"

"No, Scully." He was smiling, laughing almost. He dropped to where she

was sitting.

"What?"

"I want you right here."

He took her hands and placed his fingers where she could feel every inch

of them.

<I love you.>

Breath.

Breath.

Then:

"What?"

He laughed. "Stay here. Right here. With me."

She shook her head and lowered it. "Mulder, we can't --"

Her mouth stopped moving as she caught his eyes.

Her breath didn't come.

"Did you ever learn to tie your shoes?" he whispered.

She nodded.

"Then you can."

His lips fell to hers and remained.

~~~~~

Everything's okay again.

Maybe I am supposed to stay.

~~~~~

end chapter nine

adios

RM

Am I just killing you???

Overweighted

Chapter Ten

By RocketMan

=====

"In visions of the dark night

I have dreamed of joy departed;

But a waking dream of life and light

Hath left me broken-hearted."

-- "A Dream" Edgar Allan Poe

=====

"Mulder! I wish you'd tell me when --"

"But look. She loves it!" he said, shushing her with a hand to her lips.

Helen was burying her face in Mulder's present: a large old dog of mixed

breed with a black coat and dark eyes. The dog was licking her face and

whining.

"Mulder . . ."

"What? She needs something, Scully." His voice was suddenly strained,

reaching out to her with its pitch and timbre.

"I know," she whispered, feeling the same sense of loss rising in her.

Mulder shook himself out of his intensity and reached out a hand to pet

the dog.

"What's his name?"

"Sam. He's seven years old and the lady said he was perfect for Helen."

"Why's that?" Scully asked absent-mindedly as she carefully eyed the

dog.

"His owners had three kids, youngest age was two, so he's gentle. They

had to get rid of him because they were moving to Alaska and he's so

old, it would hurt him."

Scully turned to him again, sitting on the couch next to where Helen was

eagerly petting her new dog.

"What's that in doggie years? Forty-nine or something?"

He smiled. "You like him?"

She reached out and cautiously put her hand to his head. Sam twisted and

licked her fingers, then her knee.

"Yeah, I do."

Mulder's grin grew wider and he leaned back against the couch, sprawled

carelessly in the floor to watch Helen play with her dog.

He took her hands and signed Sam into her palm. She thought for a moment

and then made him a special sign, beginning with an "s" and shaking her

hand back and forth.

Sam barked and Mulder could have sworn he knew exactly what Helen was

doing.

Helen stood and bumped into the couch, then twisted and ran for her

room, Sam tagging on her heels as if he were a puppy.

Mulder craned his neck and was pleased to see that Helen made it all the

way to her room without knocking into anything.

"That was good, Mulder."

He glanced back to Scully, turning his face so he could see her. She was

perched on the edge of the couch, her hair falling into her face and

chin resting in her hands.

"You think so?"

She nodded. "She's been so . . . gone. I'll sign to her and she won't

even know I'm there. I think she's sad about Jane."

"That must be a powerful grief, Scully. She's gone inside herself. Like

she's listening to something in her. I thought maybe the dog would give

her a connection to the outside."

Scully gave a lonely sigh and he imagined he could feel her breath

dancing along his skin.

"It must be so hard, Mulder. To have all that darkness and all that

silence. It would be so easy to cut off from the outside world."

"And that's what she's doing."

Scully blindly reached out with her hand for his, entwining their

fingers without even a glance.

He closed his eyes and let the rhythm of the apartment and his heart

lull him into a drowsy state.

The slick hardwood floor was dusty and itched his nose, and the leather

on his sofa made his head slip forward. His fingers in hers pounded and

thrummed and he almost could feel her own heartbeat through their touch.

She was lying back into the couch now, her body slumped and relaxed in

ways it had never been, her mind content with roving from subject to

subject with no apparent reason.

She flicked her wrist and he cracked open an eye.

"Why hasn't anything happened?"

He lifted an eyebrow at her and tasted the air's feathery summer dust.

His tongue ran across dry and cracked lips and he breathed in deeply,

thinking.

"Happened how?"

"Why haven't they come for her?"

He could smell rain in the breeze coming in from the open window and he

knew it would have lightning and thunder. The window rattled as the wind

picked up, then settled again.

"I'm not sure. I think they're waiting for something."

She felt protected in the cocoon of his couch, the way it melded to her

body and meshed with her mood. It was sticky in the summer heat, but

perfect if you didn't try to move.

Her head felt too heavy for her body and she let her head dip down a

bit.

"Scully, you awake?"

She nodded and her mouth moved to answer but no sounds would come. She

squeezed his hand and moved slightly.

He rolled to sit in front of her, still sacked out on the floor, and

propped his head on the cushion. The leather was chilly against his

cheek and his eyes rolled as he looked up at her.

Her hand was still tangled in his and he brought it to his lips, leaving

her skin there when he closed his eyes again.

She whimpered.

"S . . . s . . . SScully?" he murmured.

"Ants . . ." she whispered. "In my head . . ."

He felt them too now. Little colonies marching across his brain like

kids on a field trip.

"Not right . . ." she muttered.

His eyes slipped shut.

~~~~~

Sam is large and strong and his muscles are thick beneath his coat.

His face is smooth like seal skin and his nose is cold and wet. He

stays perched beside me on the bed, his head on my stomach because

he seems to like the up and down movement when I breathe.

I sign things to him, against his side where he can feel every finger

moving and I feel the vibrations when he whines.

He's been whining a lot.

I can feel something with my mind, something crawling like those bugs

were in the place I was taken to.

I shake my head and drop to the floor, feeling shaky and confused. I

can't remember which side I'm on, where the door is, or what direction

I'm facing.

My hand is clutched tightly to Sam and his side vibrates deeper, like a

growl.

He moves forward and I follow.

I'm blind, oh, please, help, I can't *see*.

It's never been this open, this completely dark and totally vast.

I'm shaking and scuffling along the floor forever until I hit something.

I panic and Sam smacks into me and knocks me down and suddenly, smell

and touch and taste come back.

I'm in the living room. I'm okay. I'm okay.

Sam's bulk is panting over me, and I move him away. I can taste my own

fear and something else.

Something funny in the air.

It's acidic almost and it's got a metallic after feel to it. I spit and

it's still there, magnified because now I know it's there. It's awful,

like having a piece of aluminum in your mouth.

I lick my lips and my throat is very dry, scratching and killing.

I can feel the floors underneath and they are too cool, too chilly for

summer.

A sudden draft from the window clears out the horrifying smell of gas

and the taste of metal.

Gas.

That's it. Something's very wrong.

Something's wrong I can feel things moving around, moving into place and

waiting for one thing to come: death.

Vultures are here.

I scramble to the couch and feel Daddy slumped against it, pitifully

moving as if he knows too that something's about to happen. He's half

here and I move past him to Mommy.

I shiver.

She's cold.

I yank on her arm and when she slumps into me, I feel death again.

Death rushing past my face and stinging into the couch.

The place where Mommy was.

I think I'm screaming, or maybe again, whispering.

Daddy moves, his arms are wrapping around me, the bullets are around us,

it's waking him up.

Sam is dragging something, I feel his growl, his teeth clenched over

cotton.

I'm holding tightly to Daddy and he's helping Sam and we're moving too

fast I can't keep up, I can't find out where we are or what's happening.

Something hits.

I scream again.

Maybe whisper.

It hurts.

~~~~~

When the bullets started, Mulder was jerked awake.

He saw dimly and realized that Helen was attempting to pull Scully from

the couch even while a firebomb was being crashed through the window.

Shards of glass spiked into Helen and Scully and he grabbed them both,

quickly, pushing Helen around his neck and surprised when Sam began

dragging Scully's limp body to the door.

Fire began eating his couch and he choked on fumes and inched forward on

the ground to avoid stray bullets.

Helen slipped from around him and he tucked her into him, shielding her

from anything else, unsure of what had happened, or how.

It looked like they hadn't forgotten them after all.

Sam was panting in the floor, growling and whining ocassionally and

guarding Scully's body with his ferocious looking teeth.

Mulder cradled both his women in his arms and shoved open the door as

flames began licking his feet.

He bit down on his tongue to keep from totally panicking, and slid out

the door, watching at every step for someone to come from the shadows

and shoot them dead.

Sam prowled on ahead and kept his body low, slithering along like a

snake at times.

The very air around him seemed to be igniting and he figured something

had been introduced into the vents to make them sluggish.

He bit the inside of his cheek and shuffled forward, making it to the

stairwell on a coughing fit and weak, trembling arms.

He half fell down the first flight and as he was making it down the

second, he slipped.

On blood.

Scully's blood.

It was bloomed across her shoulder and down her back and dripped, like a

leaky faucet, to the ground.

He glanced back and saw a whole trail of it leading and smearing

straight to him.

He felt his stomach heave and he whimpered; he couldn't figure out what

to do. Either staunch it, or get the hell out of the fire.

He chose fire.

He stumbled out of the building and dragged three bodies to her car. His

body, hers, and Helen's. Sam was right behind.

Actually, he was thinking his car had been fire bombed, but hers was

intact.

And he had the keys in his pocket.

It had to be God. It was the only answer for that wonderful stroke of

luck.

He shoved Helen into the front seat and Scully in the back and drove.

~~~~~

The motel room was very small and very disgusting, but Mulder had only

been carrying twenty dollars with him, Scully only ten.

Helen was strecthed out on the ratty couch, a blanket underneath her and

his steady hand removing the bits of glass from her arms and neck.

She was crying and clutching Sam's fur as he pulled the tiny shards out.

He couldn't look at her face or his hands began to shake and his own

eyes teared up.

So he concentrated.

When the last sliver was out, he smeared antibiotic cream across it and

kissed her cheek.

She laid there very still and Sam jumped up to the couch and laid his

head on her stomach. A tiny smile came to her lips and she asked how her

Mommy was.

Mulder signed <not good>.

Sam whined and Mulder stood up, taking in a deep breath and turning to

see Scully.

She was on the single bed, her face pale and drawn and her lips twisted

in a grimace of pain.

She looked like hell and smelled of blood and anitseptic. Mulder had

taken her to the Lone Gunmen right off and within seconds, a doctor had

arrived to treat her.

She hadn't woken up the entire time.

He looked away and bit hard into his lip to keep his tears back, then

strode to her side.

He grabbed the tweezers and washed them in the basin of water on the

night table. Slowly, he regained control and began digging out the

shards of glass from her face and neck and arm.

The slivers were wet with her blood and shining, as if waiting for some

explorer to find their worth.

He placed each piece on a washcloth and lined them up like the bloodied

bodies of fallen soldiers.

She groaned and her eyes fluttered as he was digging for a piece deep in

her neck.

A gasp of pain and her eyes were open, staring directly into his.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

She seemed not to be able to hear.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

When he sought her eyes again, they were closed.

~~~~~

It took three hours to carefully extract the slivers of glass and one

hour to wash her clean of blood and sweat.

He then helped Helen take a sponge bath, carefully keeping the soap away

from her fresh cuts and open wounds. Sam insisted on keeping his wet

nose over the edge of the tub, watching and wagging his heavy tail.

When she was dressed in one of Byers' borrowed T-shirts and settled into

the couch with Sam resting beside her, he finally took a look at himself

in the foggy mirror.

He looked old.

His eyes were sunken and dimmed, his face bagging and sagging, his lips

bloodless. He was in one of his old, smelly sweatshirts -- something

Frohike had stored away for some odd reason.

He really didn't want to know.

He especially didn't want to know why Frohike also had one of Dana's old

sweatshirts.

Which she was now dressed in.

The sweatshirt only.

He had dressed her. Frohike had been nowhere in sight and Langly had

blacked out every camera so that Frohike couldn't possibly be recording

it. It would have been fuuny except it made him want to cry.

He shivered and crawled away from the mirror and over to the bed.

She was sleeping easily for the moment and he moved in beside her.

She shifted, as if she were about to turn over and rest against him, but

she stayed flat on her back.

He curled up next to her and slipped an arm around her waist, pressing

his face into her good shoulder.

She sighed, then whimpered.

He pulled away in hurt and watched her face ease again once his touch

was gone.

All he could figure was that she was bruised somewhere.

He slid to the floor and waited for sleep.

~~~~~

I can feel nothing.

This new dark room is strange and I don't know where things are.

Sam is here and he's protecting me. He knows where things are.

It's okay.

I can feel Daddy's subtle panic, riding on the edges of his love.

I can't feel Mommy. It's making me afraid.

Sam whines again and nudges my chin.

It's okay he says.

It's okay.

~~~~~

end ten

adios

RM