Rocketman XXXIV

Overweighted 11-23

Chapter Sixteen

By RocketMan

=====

"And you

you regard my life

Surrounding me with love that is kind

And I stand amazed, I am in awe

Cause nothing compares to you

Nothing at all. . .

There's no one

There is no one like you."

-- 'No One Like You' Kim Hill

=====

It's too hot here, with their bodies pressing tight against me. They're

afraid. I know this fear.

Fear of darkness. But I can feel things they can't. And I know things

they are blind to.

We will not make it.

What is fear? But having no knowledge of what is to come.

I know what will come. It will be our deaths. And nothing will stop its

coming.

I am resigned to this. I wish it were different; I wish I could have a

family with a mother and father and my Sam.

But I was destined to death, even as I was destined to a seeing,

hearing, silent darkness.

I was never supposed to exist; a mistake in my creation.

They'll find us.

There's no fear in that.

=====

As one, they jerked from an exhausted sleep to the sounds of yelling,

terrified they'd been discovered -- caught.

Her chest heaved in breaths that would not come as she attempted to see

in the absoluteness of no light. The vision would not come and she was

forced to panic in the rushing noise of feet.

Mulder's hand on her shoulder caused her to suck in more air than she

could breathe out, and she gagged.

Terrified.

Terrified.

"Work, Scully. It's a fish canning plant. People are at work."

She nodded, her head jerking sporadically, nostrils flaring like a horse

that has run too far, too fast.

Scully's hand reached out, clutched at his clothes; her fingertips felt

the evidence of his own panic as his blood rushed under clammy skin.

She was not the only one. It gave her an odd sense of comfort.

Mulder buried his head into her neck and nodded, as if he were laughing

at himself.

"We're okay. We stay silent; they won't know."

She nodded back, words something she could not find in the spaces

between aborted fear and edging hysteria.

Helen's small body curled up and into her stomach, her hands a strange

warmth of relief on her thighs.

Scully let a not quite steady hand drop to her head, caressed the blonde

hair that was damp and tangled from grease and dirt and fear.

Helen let out a tiny breath that seemed to echo the relief of her

family; a breath that was short and glad to simply exist, let alone with

such comfort.

Scully felt even more exhausted from her momentary panic, destroying any

good the hours of sleep might have done.

She shivered and let Mulder's arms wrap tightly around her, more for his

own security than any need of hers.

Could she live always like this?

Always with fear choking a noose around her neck?

=====

Momma's pants are rough under my cheek, her hands too possessive, too

clutching to make me feel any better.

I wriggle around in her arms, move my head to her shoulder, close my

eyes because they are aching again.

My sightless eyes, which have no purpose, are the cause of aches and

pains that make me wish I could scratch them out and never feel them

again.

It's not like I *need* them anyway.

Her chest rises and falls in a more regular rhythm now, but I can still

feel how her blood and heart race around, like chastised servants.

Her lips whisper a kiss across my forehead and I hug her harder.

I am awed by the ferocity of her love for me.

No one has ever wanted to love me so much.

No one has ever risked this . . . risked an entire way of life, an

entire crusade for loving me.

For loving me.

I shiver.

If there's any way to make it . . . any hope of love . . . she carries

it.

She holds it to her like a panther crouching over her cubs.

With her and God both on my side . . . what is fear?

=====

Mulder listened to his stomach growl ferociously under his hand, felt

the dizzying waves sweep him again. He closed his eyes, refused to give

in to the pain of hunger.

He hoped Scully and Helen were not feeling this. He had missed out on

any kind of dinner the night they stole away, but they had enjoyed a

huge meal, compliments of Langly.

He prayed they were still okay for now.

As the work day tapered off, as the crunch of machines and smell of

fresh fish grew to the silence of janitors and the stink of refuse,

Mulder felt his body tense into waiting.

He was waiting; it would come now, or not at all.

There was silence.

Darkness.

<It was coming>

Silence.

<Closer>

Flashes of Scully's pale face.

<Closer>

His whispered commands to move to the side.

<Closer>

Helen's trembling chin.

<Almost>

The crick of a door.

A door.

<HERE>

Mulder let out a scream intended to throw the man off guard and launched

his coiled body into an attack. The man screamed himself and went down,

fighting with his whole body to gain back his advantage.

Scully dug frantically into the dirt of the floor, hands scrambling in

a panicked search for her gun.

Her gun, oh God help me, where *was* it?

Mulder let out a grunt as their would-be assassin pummeled a fist into

his face and scratched at his cheeks with long, ragged nails.

Throwing the tired, starving Mulder to the floor, the man raged up,

intending to kill.

A shot exploded in the tiny dark of the room.

A sickening sound of bone shattering, blood gushing, a man gurgling his

last breaths.

The killer collapsed, a heap of blood and death beside the man she had

protected.

She pushed Helen from her, gathered Mulder's head to her and dragged him

away from the puddle of a killer's life.

"Mulder!"

His groggy grunt made her heart leap; she gently shook him awake.

"Scully!"

He jerked upright, coming to a crouch as the silence reigned heavy. His

breath was the only intrusion.

His breath and the quiet river of blood trickling in the dirt floor.

She shivered.

She had killed a man. She had killed.

She was the killer.

"We have to get *out* of here. Someone *knows*!"

Mulder's hands fumbled with hers, drew her to her feet, reached for

Helen and everything they owned in the tight garbage bags.

She trembled, wiped her hands on her pants repeatedly, feeling the film

of blood on her palms where she had cradled Mulder's head.

He was splattered in blood . . . blood that could have been his own.

Mulder rushed to her stock still form, grabbed her arm and shoved her

violently to the door.

"How'd you know?" she whispered.

He did not hear, simply propelled them forward, Helen riding piggy back

as he attempted to step over the fallen man.

Reality slammed into her.

Knocked her to her knees and raped the breath from her.

*Death*. She had *killed* a man.

In a blind hysteria, she grabbed at the man's chest, placed her hands to

the tiny hole there, clamping down on her trembling lips with her teeth.

Mulder paused, shaking, furious.

"Come *on*! There could be more!"

She could not hear him, could not see.

Only this man. He could NOT be dead. She could not have simply killed

him. She had to help him, had to stop the blood from pouring out like

wine at the altar. She had to stop it, stop the blood, stop the death,

there was always too much death always too much dying and hate and pain

and blood, oh God make it stop, there was blood everywhere!

"Scully!" he yelled, yanking her up by the arm and shoving her to the

door.

Her bloodied hands quivered and she stumbled forward, entering the

sunlight beaming brightly from the high windows, blinking and shaking in

the sudden onslaught of light.

She couldn't see. Couldn't move.

Dead inside. She was dead inside.

She had thought she was prepared for this, ready for the sacrifices, but

she was not. She could not afford to sacrifice her own humanity to this.

Mulder grabbed her by the arm and half ran, half dragged her to the

outside, fear gnawing him.

Where had his brave Scully gone?

What would happen to him without her strength?

=====

end chapter

adios

RM

~~ if you don't like it, blame Robert Ludlum~~

Overweighted

Chapter Seventeen

By RocketMan

~~~~~

"Didn't I make it all right

When everything was ruined."

--Didn't I? Carly Simon

~~~~~

They melted into the shadows of Arlington, Virginia, letting the

twilight mask them as a family on its way home from an all day

excursion, doing nothing to show untoward haste.

As the people out walking grew fewer and fewer, Mulder increased the

pace subtly, sliding into the alleys and out from shadows as if he'd

been born to such subterfuge.

Scully simply walked. She heeded the sharp tug of his hand on her elbow,

and let the numbness of shock glaze her. She was reacting.

They stopped at the first motel they found, a seedy place with

questionable patrons; had anyone known they were FBI agents, they

would not have made it in alive.

Signing them in under one of his false names, Mulder secured them a

room with two beds for the night.

It cost thirty dollars and Mulder realized that money would become a

treasured thing. They could not afford to waste money on anything. They

didn't have the money to even make it a week.

Their room was dark, lit by the flickering neon sign and the dim parking

lights filtering through the heavy drapes.

Mulder laid Helen on the bed closest to the bathroom, farthest from the

door, and tucked her already sleeping body into the covers.

Thunder sounded loudly around them and he jumped as lightning lit the

inside of their temporary sanctuary.

Scully made no moves to sit or get comfortable.

She showed no reaction to the August thunderstorm.

Sighing, he grabbed her by the arms and pulled her to the bed, pushing

her weak, stiff body into the sheets and covering her up.

She closed her eyes and said nothing.

With a sharp feeling, he leaned in and kissed her forehead.

He'd never seen this happen to her before.

Mulder shivered in the damp, moldy air that blew hard from the vents,

and walked to the window. The rain slashed across the street, their

motel room facing the city, making him feel insecure, unsafe.

As he watched, the wind made patterns of rain splatters on the window,

racing the drops to the bottom as the storm picked up in intensity.

It had been secure, the plan beyond Them, out of Their loop. It meant

that one of the three men was with Them, one was their enemy.

He thought again of the names that swirled around in his mind. Only he

and Skinner knew of the three men who knew the whole thing. The other

three knew only the part they had to play in Mulder's situation.

<Think through the motive.>

It was a lesson learned in VCS. Learned to perfection or the VCS would

not waste time with people who could not perform, could not find the

killers.

Think through.

Three men.

John Cauklin

Emerson Concho

Wilson Price

One of them was a traitor. One of them was one of Them.

Mulder would find him.

Find him in order to survive, find him to keep his family intact, find

him because Scully was hurting.

Find him.

And then Mulder would kill him.

~~~~~

I wake up slowly, feeling dampness leaking into me like dye.

The sheets are damp and the air carries the tears of heaven. I take in a

long breath and smell Momma, her body resting but not asleep, the smell

of long ago soap and fish.

I crawl from the bed, slip to the floor, and feel the movements as Sam

flops down beside me. His wet nose nudges my chin and his tongue licks

my cheek. I smile at him and grab his collar.

I push my hand forward, sliding it along the thick, shag carpet,

horrified at the sudden thought of roaches that could be on the floor.

I jerk my hand back and Sam pushes his body forward, letting me know

there is space.

I inch forward, wait for him to move again, then follow.

It takes four slides along the floor to reach Momma on her bed. I lift

myself over the side and scramble up next to her. Almost as a reflex,

her hand snakes around my head, smoothing my hair.

I let myself relax, my eyes are already closed. Her breath is soft; she

shifts me closer, kissing my forehead.

I can feel her chest rise in a sigh and then sink down, like her

spirits. I cannot seem to place Daddy in this room, so he must have

left.

Momma's hand curls around my ear, her other arm encircles me.

I feel her tears slip into my hair, the shaking of her body.

I wish I could see her.

~~~~~

Mulder roamed the street, glancing over his shoulder nonchalantly as

he made his way to the second pay phone for that night.

He had placed his first call, muffling his voice and saying a variety

of panicked words, sounding to a traitor like he had bungled the job

he was sent to do -- murder the little family.

The reaction had been confusion, bewilderment, all expected of one who

did not know.

Of course, a master, a traitor for so long, so high, would know how to

sound surprised.

He placed his second call.

A grunt answered the phone, as if the man were waiting for such a call.

"Skinner."

Mulder breathed softly, licking his lips.

"It's Mulder, sir."

"Mulder? Are you all right? I got a call from Cauklin! He's in a frenzy!

Someone called him saying you were dead! Do you know --"

Mulder hung up.

Cauklin was free. Or at least he was following the right procedure.

Confirm, confirm, confirm.

Mulder walked quickly from the pay phone to the underground subway

system, depositing a token in the turnstile and moving on through.

In a quick move, he dashed behind a pillar in the deep gloom of shadows,

looking for a tail.

It was a long moment, then a man dressed in a trenchcoat, carrying

nothing on him, hopped over the turnstile.

The man had not expected to take the subway, had no token.

The man was following Mulder.

The tail glanced around, letting his eyes casually stroll as if he were

simply assessing the crowd, perhaps looking for a friend. There was no

panicked look of escaped prey, simply professionalism.

The man moved deeper into the crowd and Mulder eased over the turnstile

and back out onto the street, moving as quickly as possible away from

the underground.

He had lost the man following him.

On to place his third call.

~~~~~

"Mulder! Don't you dare hang up! Why the hell is everyone calling in and

asking why you're dead?"

Mulder slammed down the phone in frustration.

All three had called in to report the news they'd heard.

All three appeared to have his family's best interests at heart.

All three had seemed surprised.

Where had he gone wrong?

Mulder darted out of the phone booth and checked the sidewalks behind

him. Nothing appeared to follow him, no shadows shifted into the light.

He still couldn't be sure. He couldn't very well go to the motel without

confirming that no one still followed.

Where had he gone wrong?

Mulder walked normally along Duke Street, glancing to his left and right

ever so slightly, always cautious for a trap. It was midnight and

deserted; perfect timing for a quick kill.

A Taco Bell shone fiercely in the night and Mulder diverted his steps

toward it, not knowing what his plan was, only that he had to use all

opportunities as they came up.

Taco Bell would be his diversion, just as the subway had served his

purposes.

Mulder walked in, practically ran to the bathroom, and hid himself in

the stall.

He waited.

Would anyone come?

Could he take the chance of coming out -- only to be followed again?

He heard the silent, soft sounds of the restroom door being eased open.

It was his shadow!

Mulder crouched on the toilet, holding his breath, making no noise as

the man crept in.

The lock was in place on the stall.

Mulder's mind flashed and he suddenly lifted the lid and sat down,

letting his feet show and relieving himself -- plainly showing that

someone was indeed in there.

The man jiggled the door and Mulder let out a string of dirty expletives

designed to mask his voice and hide his identity.

The man mumbled a quick apology and headed out.

He would think there was no one in the bathroom but an angry old man,

maybe even half drunk, certainly a redneck since the Taco Bell in

Arlington was the redneck's hangout.

Mulder waited for thirty more minutes in the stall, making absolutely

sure they had given up.

~~~~~

It was silent when Mulder found his way back to the motel, silent as he

entered the room at two that morning.

A twisted series of turns and streets and detours had ensured that he

was not being followed again, and since he was not trained enough to

recognize professional tails, he had repeated his Taco Bell performance

three times with minor differences.

No one had followed.

He glanced to his bed, found that Helen had crawled in beside Scully,

both sleeping heavily.

His own body ached.

His mind was shutting down on him. It'd been a long time since he'd had

to keep going for days on end. His body was slowly becoming used to it,

but he still needed some decent sleep.

He'd read somewhere that rest was a weapon.

Rather than trying to make room with Scully, he collapsed on Helen's

abandoned bed and closed his eyes.

He would go over his phone calls tomorrow.

Tomorrow he would find where he had gone wrong.

Tomorrow he would find the traitor.

~~~~~

end chapter

adios

RM

Overweighted

Chapter Eighteen

By RocketMan

~~~~~

"There is no tomorrow

for the restless ones."

~~~~~

She woke up suddenly, coming to full awareness with only a slight

trembling.

It was dark.

The room smelled of rain and wet dog, like a man had been jogging

through a thunderstorm.

She opened her eyes and blinked slowly, knowing that something was

happening and that something had woken her up.

There was no movement, no noise, no breath.

She tensed.

Then there was life again, as if she'd been deaf for those short few

minutes and every night sound had fallen into a vast silence.

She slipped from under Helen's tiny body and stood in still in the

explosions of noise greeting her straining ears.

His loud breath crashing into her, his every movement amplified by the

pounding in her brain, the soft movement of his lips as he spoke in

dreams echoed with a fierceness she could not escape from.

Helen had come to her in the night, to give comfort, and now, Scully

would go to Mulder in the early morning, to give comfort.

She stretched out along the bed, about a full foot from his heat

radiating body, and simply reached out and touched his cheek.

Instinctively, he nuzzled forward, found her body warm and inviting, and

buried himself into her softness.

She closed her eyes and stroked his hair back from his forehead.

His entire twitching body stilled abruptly and the noise of his

ngihtmares that had wakened her earlier, were ceased into nothing.

She tried to push her mind back into that catatonic state where she felt

and thought nothing, but it would not slip back.

Reaching out to save Mulder had forced her to save herself.

~~~~~

It was five o'clock in the morning when he woke panicked and sweating.

He had to get them out of there.

This was the only thing in his mind.

And as he became aware, he felt her nestled into him, her distinct

warmth and smell coming to him in the midst of his fear.

And then the panic overrode him again and he remembered.

He'd been followed.

They knew where he was.

He may have shaken whatever tail he'd had last night, but they had

*picked him up* from here, and therefore, none of his family was safe.

He woke Helen first, bringing her from her dreams with a soft kiss and a

touch on the cheek that made her smile in lazy appreciation.

He handed her clothes and Sam's collar and guided her to the bathroom to

let her change.

Then he moved to Scully, praying she was snapped from her zombie daze

and ready and able to deal with the things they would have to do today.

She opened her eyes when he touched her cheek and was instantly alert.

"Scully?"

She blinked, rose up from the bed, then glanced up at him, her face

etched with a sort of blank look that made him despair.

"Where's Helen?"

He breathed easier with her words and nodded to the bathroom.

She swung her legs over the side and then reached out to touch his

cheek, tracing the weary lines around his eyes, the huge bags that

marked him deeply.

"You need to go back to sleep, Mulder. You only got two hours of sleep."

He glanced in surprise at her. "You were awake?"

She shrugged. "No."

"How do you know how much sleep I got then?"

She gave him a smile. "I woke up at three thirty and moved over here.

You always start dreaming after thirty minutes. It was a safe bet."

He sighed and shook his head. "I can't sleep now."

Helen came out and walked straight to her father and then climbed in his

lap, her fingers going to her mouth.

Scully pulled them down and signed no into her palm, then resumed her

conversation with Mulder, signing idly into Helen's hand.

"Why not?"

"We have to get out of here right now. Find someplace safer."

She was signing the alphabet into Helen's hands and Helen was signing

the letter back, then thinking of an object and spelling it out.

That's when Scully noticed.

"Mulder."

"Look, Scully, we don't have time to --"

"No, Mulder. Look. She's spelling."

Mulder paused and looked into her hands, watched Helen's fingers forming

the word 'dog' in rapid movements.

"Did you teach her to spell that?" Scully asked, her face lifting in a

mixture of joy and excitement.

Mulder smiled and signed praise into Helen's hands.

"I tried to, in the hospital. So she could show you something when you

woke up. Except I was mainly doing it to keep my mind off of things."

Scully hugged Helen hard, signing love and joy into her hands with shaky

fingers and a smile.

Her daughter's love was wonderful at easing her guilt.

"Scully. We need to get out of here."

She nodded and stood, picking Helen up from Mulder's arms and clipping

the leash onto Sam with one smooth movement.

Ever since Helen had taught them to speak with their hands, Mulder had

been noticing Scully's far more often.

And now, he was entranced, caught off guard by the smooth expanse of

palm and fingertip that handled their child and kept her close.

He reached out and brought her fingers to his lips, making a sort of

oath as he did.

Today he would kill the traitors who made her hurt.

Today he would kill the man who had caused her beautiful giving hands to

take someone's life.

~~~~~

The place was the worst, was unthinkable to live in, was extremely unfit

for a child, let alone blind and deaf, to reside in.

And yet it only cost twenty dollars and they were fast running out of

money, and options.

She spent the morning trying to convince him that they should withdraw

everything from their accounts and run like hell away.

He spent the morning planning out the quickest, most effective method of

ferreting out the traitor, the man who would kill them, and then killing

the killer.

She could see this in his eyes, and so when they all settled down to

actually get some sleep, she positioned her body so close to his that he

would wake her if he left.

He left.

She woke.

"Mulder."

Her words were a warning, were a threat that he'd better not walk out on

them.

He'd better not.

He turned in the door. "I have to do this. We'll never be safe. It'll

never stop."

"Mulder."

This time, it was allowance. It was a recognition that they were doomed

unless something could be done.

And it was also a plea.

>Please come back to me.<

He leaned in to her, placed a dry kiss to her forehead, then ran his

thumb along the sensitive part of her stomach, around her belly button,

telling her, in a way, that he knew all of her body, and that he was

coming back to claim it.

~~~~~

Mulder reviewed the conversation in his mind, nitpicked every nuance of

the voices on the telephone, recalled every pause, looking for the one

that would reveal to him the traitor.

And he felt humbled and ashamed when he could not find a single

incriminating accent.

Walking lazily downtown, waiting for a tail to spot him, to pick him up,

Mulder gazed into the glass fronted stores with faked interest, his mind

taken up by two things.

One was his replaying of the recorded voices in his head.

The other was the look on Scully's face when she realized she had killed

that man.

Both fueled him with a drive unprecendented before in his own futile

history.

~~~~~

His aimless walking had attracted the right attention; he spotted two

tails on him, one being the man who had followed him into the subway

station.

They must not think he was being very careful about who was following

him today, because they acted *un*professional.

He managed to shake one so that it looked as if it'd just been an

unfortunate accident, and then he darted into an alleyway he had

preapproved, and waited.

It took long minutes, but finally the man cautiously entered the alley.

Mulder was on his toes, ready to spring, when it happened.

The tail he thought he'd lost came in, shaking his head.

"He didn't come out. I circled around back. In fact, I don't think he

went in here at all."

The first one shook his head. "How could you see? He pretended to dodge

you and you were out of sight."

"Look, he's not here. I think he went down there -- didn't you see that

flurry?"

The man grunted, glanced down to the next alley, shook his head. "Okay.

Well, sure. I saw it. All right. But if we lose him again, Cauklin's

going to be pissed."

They rumbled off, loping around to the next block.

Mulder was frozen.

Cauklin was the traitor, the wolf come to slaughter the sheep.

Except he didn't know, Cauklin had no idea.

These sheep were really mountain lions, and this particular lion was

ready for the wolf.

Ready to kill the wolf.

~~~~~

The room was dark when he entered and it threw him for a moment.

Then there was the cold edge of metal to his throat.

He cried out hoarsely, felt her small body relax behind him, then slump

into him with relief.

"I thought you wouldn't be back for at least hours." she explained, then

sank to the bed.

He turned to face Scully, taking her hands in his. "It's okay. I came

back because I found out some things. We need to move again, a little

farther out of the city."

"Out of the city?" she murmured, slipping her hands past his, and

touching his neck.

She hissed in her breath as she felt the blood she'd drawn with her

makeshift knife and brushed her fingers along his Adam's apple.

"Yeah. As far as possible, while still being close."

She then chuckled, still half not there with the events of the past few

days and the blood she felt at his neck.

"I forgot."

"What?" he said, staying perfectly still as she ran her fingers down his

bloodied skin.

"There's a sort of boat house we have. Well, actually, it's not ours,

but we always went there as kids."

"What do you mean? Scully, what are talking about?"

He was sort of frantic, feeling the effects of her fingers stained with

his blood and the erotic sensations of her skin against his.

"A boat house. On the coast. It's close to DC, where I assume you're

headed. We can go there and hole up for a long time. It's even got a few

staples. No one knows about it because it's not on any records as us

having owned it. We don't really . . ."

"OKay, okay. We have a plan now. We'll go there. Get whatever we need."

"Then?"

"Then I'll leave."

She became still.

"And?"

He shook his head and brushed his lips along her collar bone, bringing

her hands from his blood, which had already stopped.

She shivered and kissed his lips hard and hot, pressing full into him

without shame.

"And then I'll be back," he whispered.

She kissed him again, as if to give him enough reasons to come back.

"I'll be back," he promised, and he was rewarded with a third image to

fuel him.

The look on her face when he touched her, the look that said --

>Don't leave me.<

~~~~~

end chapter

adios

RM

Overweighted

Chapter Nineteen

By RocketMan

~~~~~

The sounds of the water greeted them with a soft, mothering lullabye.

The faint ripple of sea against the weathered dock reminded him of animals

licking their wounds, attempting to right the wrong of the manmade

attachment.

It was the touch of cool relief against hot rage and burning fear, the

touch of phantoms on his skin, like her fingertips on his brow when she

thought he was asleep.

The whisper of a mother's lips to his soul.

He shifted Helen's weight onto his other arm, then tucked her head into

his shoulder. Sam bounded up behind them, pulling at the leash Scully held

as she dragged her exhausted body forward.

She hadn't slept in hours, and even then it had been a little nap when

Mulder had gotten back.

Helen was asleep in his arms and she walked in wearily, guiding Mulder to

the back, sneezing in the dust and ancientness of their old boat house.

"I remember when we first came here. I was six. The water was attractive

to me and Dad had to keep reminding me that it was also dangerous, that I

could never go off by myself."

Mulder glanced absently to her then nodded his head to the piles of tarp,

used to cover boats.

"We could lay those out for Helen, let her sleep on it."

Scully turned inward, recognizing the tone of voice he snapped in, the one

that said he was anxious to get going, not willing to listen to anything

she had to say.

"I think that would be good," she murmured.

Mulder handed Helen to her and yanked on the green plastic, a grimace of

disgust planted on his face. Scully cradled her daughter closer and pushed

Mulder away with an angry shove.

"Go ahead and leave, Mulder," she snapped, picking up a loose end of tarp

and gathering it to her.

Mulder stared at her for a moment and then hung his head.

"Sorry. I got a lot on my mind."

"Well, I do too, Mulder. And it all concerns your safety in this. And the

longer you stomp around here, the more I worry."

Mulder glanced away from her, digging his nails into his palms, gritting

his teeth.

"This is never going away, Scully. Don't you get it? I have to do this."

Scully finished making Helen's bed and carried the girl to it, putting her

back to Mulder as she attempted to keep control of herself. Helen settled

into the thick pile of heavy duty tarp and Scully pulled one of the moth

eaten boat blankets around her.

As she turned back around, Mulder caught her body and pulled her roughly

to him.

"You've got to understand, Scully. They're not going to leave us alone."

She dipped her eyes back to Helen's sleeping form, to the blonde curls

framing her round face. The innocence and very life of this child was

held in their hands, and Mulder was willing to do anything to keep her

protected, keep her loved.

"Tell me you understand, Scully. Tell me you understand."

Scully leaned her head onto his shoulder, her nose pressed into his

pectoral muscle, her breathing hot against his T-shirt. She took one

of his hands and pressed it to her cheek, wishing he would actually

listen to her for once.

"Let me go with you," she said, impulsively, tightening her grip on his

fingers.

He released her and went to sit next to Helen, pushing a tendril of hair

back from her eyes, lifting the blanket and tucking her in tighter.

"Scully," he began, his words trembling.

"I know. I know, never mind."

He nodded, chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, then sighed.

"I have to do this," he said and gazed up at her for one long moment.

She couldn't say it. He needed to hear her say she understood, but she

couldn't. It wouldn't be the truth.

"Just come back, Mulder. Everything will be fine as long as you come

back."

He watched her a long time before rising to his feet and shuffling to

the door.

He didn't look back.

She was glad; she didn't want him to see her crying.

~~~~~

Mommy's hands are soft, trembling in my own, her round fingers skimming

across my palms as she attempts to describe the boat house to me.

It keeps her mind off Daddy, and it lets her work on understanding my

language.

She is halting, her fingers awkward at first, her mind not ready to

remember strange things like arch and wood and beam.

She uses her hands to walk me through the room, her finger formed words

shape the vision:

broad long boards, weathered with water and salt, stretching from one end

to the other:

the look of dungeons and castles and moats because of the reflection of

the water across the ceiling and the thick stone walls:

a soaring roof, raising to the tops of trees, peaking at the center with a

funny twist in the stone work, the imitation of the Zephyr, the god of

wind, blowing the boat to sea:

etched waves lapping into the bottom stones, carved in intricacies and

sweeps like Chinese dragons.

She takes my hands and leads me to the walls, brushing my fingertips into

every crevice, touching every rough unpolished stone, following the still

waves' journey around the room.

I thank her and lay down into the tarps piled up for me, letting my ears

open as she signs to me the sounds assaulting her:

the gentle gurgle of water trickling in through every one of those cracks

I felt:

the creak of old wood finding a rhythm in the unsettling movement of the

waves:

her steady in and out breathing matching time to the continuous call of

birds across far distances:

the ghost reminders of long ago memories and forgotten times.

I curl into my mother and lay my head on her lap, knowing through her

words, through the stiff way she holds herself, through the jerky motions

of her chest, that she is afraid.

She's afraid Daddy won't come back.

~~~~~

Caulkin was alone for the moment, his broad back displayed as he leaned

over to stuff some papers in the trash.

Mulder removed the binoculars he had bought from a pawn shop, then

hunkered further down into the roof of the building. Caulkin was acting

safe, acting secured, as if his prey had no gotten away, when in fact,

Mulder assumed he and Scully had.

As this finally drifted into thought, Mulder stiffened.

Caulkin didn't seem too worried.

By now, he should know that he and Scully were gone, by now there should

be some sign of fear at their disappearance.

Unless . . .

Unless he already knew exactly where they were.

Mulder slumped against the high wall running around the business office's

roof, burying his head in his hands.

Caulkin knew exactly where his family was . . . and he had left them alone.

~~~~~

As her cellular phone rang, Mulder prayed she had brought it with her, and

that she had remembered to turn it back on.

He thought back, remembered the hospital, saw it clearly in her hands that

day they had left, remembered back to their sudden flight.

In that fish factory, in the hole where she had killed a man . . . his

attention to detail waned.

Was the small black phone in her coat pocket at that point? Had she

thought it too risky and chunked it sometime during their walk to the

motel?

The phone continued to ring, Mulder began to sweat, and Cauklin calmly

sat in his high rise office, assessing important facts on white sheets

of paper.

Too calm.

He was too calm for any of this to be good.

~~~~~

Scully felt a twitch at her side; her eyes refused to allow in the light.

Helen's small hands touched her forehead and pushed at her eyelids, then a

kiss on her cheek made her smile and respond.

It was then that she heard the shrill jangle of her cell phone.

Scrambling for the phone, half in fear that someone would hear it and come

looking, and half in fear that it was someone calling about Mulder, she

slammed her thumb into the 'talk' button and breathlessly answered.

"Scully," was her whispered dread.

"It's me. You have to get out of there. I think they followed us. I think

they know."

Coming from any one else, it would have sounded paranoid, even in their

current situation, it would have been crazy. There was no possible way for

anyone to have followed them there.

They had been so careful.

But Mulder didn't call in a panic for needless worries, he didn't sound

agonized through the phone lines because of some sort of notion.

He knew.

And she had that faith.

"Okay. Where?"

"I don't know. Someplace safe, hell, Scully, there's no place they can't

follow. In a crowd, all right? Crowds. It'll keep them away."

She suddenly felt the itching at the back of her neck, the slow crawl of

ants up her back and to her brain that she had felt before, felt as fear

claimed her.

Only this time, she knew it as something different.

Not fear.

Not the sudden knowledge of being hunted.

But the sudden knowledge of being tracked.

Tracked through the implant in the base of her neck. The implant that had

saved her life.

"Scully?"

She had stopped breathing. She had stopped thinking or feeling or being.

Listened. She had listened to her body as it sent and received signals to

a foreign intelligence.

"It's me," she whispered.

"What?"

"It's me. They know where we are because of me."

"Wait, you're not mak --"

He stopped.

She felt the air between them grow heavy.

"Mulder, you have to come get Helen away from me. I'll drop her off to

you somewhere. Then you go take her somewhere. Away from me, don't tell

me, don't even hint."

"Scully . . ." He sounded ripped apart, torn between saving his daughter

and not hurting her and killing Caulkin for everything that had been done

to them.

"Mulder. It's the chip. I can feel it. You have to get her away from me.

Now!"

The panic in her voice made him snap into a decision.

"Okay. Okay. Meet me halfway. On that bridge between --"

"Castle Ridge?" she interrupted, and the haste in her voice made knots of

tension squeeze in him.

"Yes. Castle --"

She had already hung up.

Mulder pushed himself up and began to run.

~~~~~

Scully wanted to have Helen walk a few yards in front of her, but she

was afraid Helen would get into trouble that way so she carried her,

half running and half briskly walking all the way to the corner.

A taxi jumped immediately to help them and Scully waved it on, not

trusting the man's eagerness. After three passed by, Scully grabbed the

fourth and hustled inside, panting the address to the driver.

She pulled Helen close to her and explained as closely as she could to

the truth about what was going on.

All she managed to sign was -- Daddy's coming to get you for awhile.

Helen began to cry, already frightened from being rushed from one not

so familiar place to an entirely strange place and then the pounding,

crushing panic that her mother radiated didn't help either.

The driver looked at them briefly, disconcerted by Helen's strange animal

noises that went for sobs, but Scully glared at him and he turned back

around, the question dying from his lips.

Cradling Helen to her, Scully stroked her cheek, wiping away the quivering

tears and smoothing her blonde hair back behind one ear.

As Helen calmed down a bit, the driver glanced to her in the rearview

mirror.

"Lady, there's a navy blue car following us. I thought you might want to

know."

Scully swallowed thickly and nodded appreciatively, faintly wiping her

eyes closed with a weary hand.

"I won't ask too many questions, but I need to know. Are you in trouble

with the law?"

Scully felt the tears rise bitterly again but she shook her head and

shoved them away. "No, not with the law."

The law was no longer being upheld itself, so how could she be in trouble

with the law? As far as she knew, they had abandoned law a long time ago.

Abandoned the Bill of Rights and essentially the very freedoms that had

formed their country.

Helen was testament to that.

Helen was the the last living proof of their deceit.

She felt her body begin to tremble again.

<Not Helen, not Helen.>

~~~~~

Overweighted

Chapter Twenty

By RocketMan

~~~~~

"It's me who is my enemy,

me who beats me up.

Me who makes the monsters,

me who strips my confidence.

And it's me who's too weak,

and it's me who's too shy

to ask for the thing I love."

--Paula Cole

~~~~~

Scully stopped before the bridge, turning her head to check behind her,

the nervous feel of her stomach making her want to throw up.

Helen clutched at her with a ferociousness she hadn't seen before, a

connection to the outside world that Scully had never witnessed in this

blind and deaf little girl.

She kept asking for Sam.

Scully didn't want to tell her that Sam was gone, all she said was that

Sam had gone someplace safe.

Truly, Scully had no idea where the dog was. He had run off on their way

to the boat house while Helen was asleep, and she and Mulder had not

really had the presence of mind to notice until they had settled in.

It was a sad omen for their little family.

A sound behind them made her twist awkwardly to jerk around, her eyes

quickly ravaging the landscape, looking for anything that told her they'd

been found out.

The crawl of ants started across her neck, slithering into her skin and

down her back.

She shivered and began to walk around, away from the bridge, sure that

this was the signal being given to their enemies, the betrayal of their

location.

Helen dragged her down a bit by latching onto her leg and trembling,

refusing to move.

Scully couldn't stand it anymore.

The feelings washed over her and she couldn't control it anymore.

Too much fear, too much hiding and running and looking over her shoulder.

With the desparation borne of enforced fear, Scully grabbed Helen up and

began sprinting away from the bridge.

She couldn't let them even get close to her daughter.

~~~~~

Mulder scanned Castle Bridge once more, his mind replaying the horrors he

knew could have befallen them.

It'd been an hour since they had talked.

An hour.

He rubbed his forehead and slumped back into the bushes, feeling his legs

collapse under him.

Now was not the time to let his sleep deprived body shut down.

He licked his lips and poked his head back over the bushes.

Still no sign of them.

Earlier, thinking they might be hiding, he had blatantly showed himself

all around the park associated with the bridge, but she had not come out.

She wasn't there.

That was the blindingly clear suggestion that his mind turned over every

single second.

She wasn't there.

He felt the panic surge again, threaten to blind him in the sheer volume

of intense fear he felt for his family.

This was altogether a different panic that infused him, different from the

panic of Scully getting cancer again, or taken. This time it was for his

wife, his baby girl.

His family.

<Oh, God, help me. What have I done?>

~~~~~

Scully hunkered down further into the bushes, trembling with the cold,

keeping her body wrapped around Helen as best as she could.

Helen was shaking in the chill of the evening, her pale skin frighteningly

white in the moonlight.

Peering once again to the main road, Scully found it deserted.

No guards, no men in black waiting for her.

No dark sedan following her either.

The tickling in the back of her skull had disappeared for the moment.

Everytime it went away, she attempted to go back to the bridge, and every

time, it had started back again, right before she got there.

She hoped Mulder was still waiting.

It had been three hours. Had he given up, assumed the worst?

She shivered and darted for the road, travelling quickly up to the actual

bridge, darting between the lengthening shadows for protection from the

moonlight.

Suddenly a figure shot from the park, barrelling into her with a force

that knocked her breath from her.

Gasping, attempting to escape the crushing hold, she yanked Helen away

from her assailant's hands.

"Scully!"

She relaxed and let his embrace support her.

"Mulder . . . you stayed . . ."

Mulder moved her back into the trees, away from the road, and led her to a

bench.

"What happened? I thought you were . . . gone."

"I can feel it Mulder. When it starts to give me away. I couldn't take the

chance that it would lead them straight to you. So I ran. I kept trying to

come back, but whenever I got close, they'd turn it back on again."

"You're okay? Helen?"

Scully hugged her little girl harder and kissed her forhead. "She's cold.

But we're both okay."

With a slow reluctance, Scully pushed Helen into his arms.

Mulder stared straight into her eyes, promising to come back for her, no

matter what.

"Take care of her, Mulder. I'll be fine."

Mulder shook his head and cradled Helen to his chest, not letting her move

away from him. Helen obviously knew she might not see her mother again and

she was trying to squirm away from them.

When he glanced back to her, he saw the beginnings of tears in her eyes,

but she was valiantly pushing them back.

"Scully, I can't do this without you," he muttered, choking back his own

tears.

"Yes, you can." she said calmly, laying a hand on his arm, granting him

an odd sense of peace with her movements.

Leaning forward, she guided his mouth toward hers, teasing his tongue with

her own and the promise of a tomorrow.

The sharp tickle crawled through her neck and shot electric like pain into

her eyes.

Wincing, she realized something with the sharp clarity of a woman's last

moments.

"Get out of here. They've trapped us. Oh, God, please."

Her prayer cut short as she felt herself tumble to the ground, then the

cold of the grass soaked into her shirt.

Mulder fell beside her, urgently whispering her name.

"Leave . . . leave . . ."

He shook his head. "No, no, I can't leave you."

"*Leave*" she hissed between the waves of pain originating from her neck.

He hauled her up, pulling her to her feet and holding her close to him.

"Helen," she vaguely recalled, shaking her head.

"She's okay."

Helen was clinging tightly to his back, letting him free his hands to pick

Scully up.

He began pushing forward, half dragging her, half carrying her.

She struggled at first, tried to get him to leave her behind, but when it

became evident he wouldn't, she stopped, seeing that her struggle made

them slower.

The sounds of a helicopter thwacking through the air made her skin break

out in goosebumps and she attempted to put away the grinding in her brain

and concentrate on running, moving forward.

One step, then another.

The far away feel of grass under her sneakers, the foggy touch of Mulder's

hands grasping her shoulders, the whispery touch of air in her mouth.

She wasn't going to make it.

When he had to stop and sweep her up into his arms, she knew she would not

make it.

And neither would her family.

She beat on his chest, yanked his ear with the last of her stregnth.

"Dammit, Mulder. Leave me NOW."

There was warmth and then, the cold, cold wet of park grass.

The cold cold wet of surrender.

~~~~~

Overweighted

Chapter Twenty-One

By RocketMan

Warning: This part gets a little sad.

~~~~~

"she blames him, at the last, for

backing away from his bones

and his woman, from the life

he promised her was worth

cold sheets. she blames him

for being unable to see

the tears in her eyes, the birds

hovered by the window, for love being

not enough, for leaving.

he blames her, at the last, for

holding him back with her eyes

beyond when the pain was more

than he was prepared to bear,

for the tears he could neither

end nor ignore, for believing

that love could be enough,

for the birds, for the life

so difficult to leave."

--'man and wife' Lucille Clifton

~~~~~

He woke and there was light.

And it was not good.

It coursed through him like waves of pain, and fried the insides of his

body with small burns that leaked him of thought.

He pretended it did not hurt, that this was nothing; he pretended the men

didn't ask things that he could answer, and he pretended that he was not

afraid.

The light surged.

He closed his eyes and pretended no more.

~~~~~

She woke and there was light.

Oh, God, not again.

Too much, too much and it was everywhere, in her, all over her, inside her

womb growing with diamonds patterns like she was precious gemstones and

everything was fire.

She closed her eyes and thought no more.

~~~~~

I come awake and see nothing, hear nothing.

That is blessed relief.

My ocean claims me as the heat does, and the two battle for control.

Heat and boiling ocean, and pain and nothing.

Still, the water is larger and it sucks me into its coolness.

I gladly close my eyes and think no more.

~~~~~

When her eyes opened again, she could see the whiteness of the after room.

It made her afraid and she looked first for Helen.

Seeing her little girl, soulless on the table, made her retch and she

vomited on the floor of the white after room, the sickness that of her

soul remembering.

She scrambled to her feet and gathered her child into her arms.

Helen had cut off again, pulled down deep inside her, let the world go on

without her.

Scully took her back to her own bed, cradling the child with her arms even

as her muscles shook. She knew what had happened, knew now the horrible

fate for her little girl.

This was the *after* room.

After the treatment, after the harvesting, after the pain.

After the chip, the implants that would control her life, or kill her with

cancer.

Scully bit back a sob and buried her face into her daughter's blonde

curls.

She had told Mulder to run.

Why couldn't he listen for once?

He had played the hero and now, now their little girl was doomed.

~~~~~

The light surged within him and great waves of pleasure-pain buffeted his

senses and his prone body like electric shocks.

Writhing in this effect, his body trapped between ecstasy and agony,

Mulder felt the shame as his seed spilled from him in tides of current,

like erupting geysers.

The light surged and came with him, drove him higher and further, creating

a never ending arc of pain-pleasure that stretched him so taut that he

shut down.

He exploded again and again and still, it did not stop.

His only thought, the one thing that his fractured mind could grasp was

her.

Scully.

Three months of this for her.

Three months.

He sobbed into unconsciousness.

~~~~~

Scully woke to feel warmth, body warmth and not the electric heat of the

white light.

The after room was gone and Helen was gone and there was only one body

next to hers.

It was Mulder.

He was not breathing.

She jerked out of her half sleep and pulled him to her mouth, forcing

breaths into a system that simply had no energy to live.

She felt her bitterness disolve at the thought of really, really losing

him this time.

There was nothing in him to respond.

He had no life.

It had spilled from him in long, unending waves of pain, never to be

restored again.

She sobbed and continued, not willing to give up, determined not to let

him leave her this time.

She had demanded it before, now she recanted.

Not now. Not this time.

~~~~~

I can see light and it is sweet.

It tells me to open my eyes.

It calls me Little One and it says nice things.

It sounds like my mother.

I don't want to come up for air yet.

It's too nice down here. Quiet and dark with no fear or thoughts to make

me tired.

Peaceful.

It is a peace that passes all understanding.

It is home.

~~~~~

When his mind came back, he felt things only barely, as if he were wading

in a thick pool of brine.

He could not open his eyes.

It took all his efforts to keep breathing.

He felt her near him, felt her body pressed close and was afraid.

There was no stirring in him for her. No primal urgency surging through

him.

There was nothing but an impression of pain and a faint, faint light.

Love.

There was warming love.

And he was so so tired.

~~~~~

Scully let herself slump against him when his body began to breathe, her

relief a bitter taste on her tongue.

She closed her eyes and placed one hand on his heart, afraid that if she

laid on his chest, it would collapse and he would not be able to breathe.

If his heart stopped, she would know immediately, and his breath came out

right on her arm, and so she would be able to keep him alive.

Keep him alive.

He had fallen into a deep, energy restoring sleep.

To keep him alive.

She closed her eyes and tried not to think.

~~~~~

This time, when he woke, he could smile.

He smiled and then went limp, every ounce of energy exhausted.

He hoped she had seen his smile.

It had been for her.

~~~~~

Watching him sleep, she realized what it reminded her of.

After.

It reminded her of after they made love.

She tilted her head and eyed him better, watching the flush of red across

his cheeks, the deep, deep breathing and the entirely slack muscles.

She frowned and ran her fingers along his inner thigh, trying to gather

more information.

She was surprised when there was nothing. No stirring, no shift in

position, nothing.

So . . . that couldn't be it. He was usually so . . . responsive

afterwards.

His eyes fluttered and he groaned deeply, causing a flush to rise in

her, because for all intents and purposes, he was acting like the

morning after.

He reflectively pulled her into him and snuggled deeper into sleep.

She bit her lip and kissed his forehead.

What had they done to him?

~~~~~

I feel the soft white light like mother fall deeper into me.

I open my mind, come back to them.

It is not my mother.

I don't understand.

Where is my mother?

She was supposed to be here.

Where's Mommy? Where's my mom?

MOMMY!!!

~~~~~

Scully jerked up, feeling as if a cannon had exploded in her head.

She took in rapid, deep breaths and glanced around.

Helen.

It was Helen.

She shook Mulder, pulled him from his deep, needed sleep.

"Mulder!"

He turned over, back down into sleep.

She stood up and blinked, willing Helen to open up to her again.

There was just silence.

And then the silent, soft murmuring of a child, repeating over and over,

"mommy, mommy."

She trembled and ran forward, only to be swallowed in the blinding light.

~~~~~

When she came to, there was Helen, curled in a corner, trembling and

signig 'mother' with her hands as her mouth sputtered animal noises.

It made Scully sick and she crawled forward, gathering Helen into her

arms.

Her touch brought Helen back from the panic and she relaxed, letting her

cheek fall to her mother's chest.

Scully stood awkwardly, then looked around.

Surprised, she found herself still with Mulder too.

Walking unsteadily, she managed to get back to Mulder and carry Helen with

her.

Mulder's eyes fluttered and he licked his lips before coming awake

completely.

"Sc-Scully? I . . . oh . . . crap . . ."

She laughed softly, more from dizzying relief than anything else.

"What . . . Helen?"

"She's right here. Right here."

"Okay?"

Scully didn't know to respond to that, didn't know what to say.

"I don't know. They . . . they took her. The light and . . ."

Mulder swallowed and coughed at her admissions, wincing.

"Ah . . . Scully . . ."

"I think something happened to you, Mulder. I don't know what, but don't

try to do much. You're exhausted."

He gave her a shameful chuckle. "Ah . . . yeah. They uh . . . took a

donation."

"What?"

His eyes flickered open and the shine in his eyes shocked her.

"A sample. Except it was more like the entire supply."

She stared at him for a moment and then glanced to Helen.

Their little girl was curling up into Mulder, her small head nestling into

his shoulder as he dragged his arm around her.

Her mind comprehended what he said but she couldn't seem to face it.

"O-okay."

Mulder closed his eyes again and concentrated on breathing.

She slid in close to him. "I never made you this exhausted." she said

suddenly.

He gave a half snort of laughter to dismiss her lingering fears.

"I'm very glad. You tired me out, but I could always come back around,

Scully. I can't even lift my finger, let alone anything else. How's that

good?"

She pressed her face into his neck. "As soon as you're okay . . . we're

getting out of here."

He licked his lips and patted her head with a heavy hand.

"Ok. Ok."

She felt him fall back into sleep.

~~~~~

end chapter

adios

RM

Overweighted

Chapter Twenty-Two

By RocketMan

~~~~~

"He said that a stern sense of the duty he owed his Maker, not less than

his fellow-men, would permit him no longer to remain silent."

-- "Thou Art the Man" Edgar Allan Poe

~~~~~

Mulder opened his eyes and laid still for a long moment, his mind racing

forward and back and everywhere at one time.

There was light

and explosions of pain

and Scully's face swimming above him

and pain pain pain in every part of his body, rocketting out to the very

ends of his fingertips and through his mind until there was only the

light, the light, and

no.

No.

He took in a deep breath and turned his head, feeling the warm bodies

pressed against him.

Helen on his right and Scully curled up on his left.

Gently, he touched Scully's cheek, caressing the soft skin, skimming his

fingers lightly over the red scratches there, wishing he could remember

what had happened to them.

There was the park, trying to get her and Helen out of there and then --

then, nothing.

White light.

And nothing.

He felt the prickling in his stomach and the stirring deep within him.

The white light pulsing

pulsing

exploding him into shattering pieces of fragile glass.

She had picked him up, put his pieces back together and understood.

Mulder brushed her eyes with a light touch and she opened them, blinking

to rid herself of sleep.

"Mulder?"

"Are you okay?" he whispered, raising himself up to his elbow, looking

down at her with soft, bedroom eyes.

Bedroom eyes.

It was an odd look on him, but the smoking way his dark pupils followed

her every twitch made her suddenly too warm.

She raised her hand to his cheek and brushed her fingers along the creased

skin, the effects of sleeping on him. "I'm fine. They didn't . . . need me,

I guess."

Helen stirred beside him and he turned to pick her up, determined to be

there, a comforting presence to her when she woke and remembered what had

happened to her.

"Hey baby," he said softly, brushing his fingers over her forehead,

kissing her nose and gazing down at her.

She tilted her head and blinked, hard, a tinge of panic rising in her

face, her eyes starting to focus on the round edges of his face.

Mulder glanced over to Scully with a hint of fear, his eyes touching hers

with the pleading look.

"What's wrong with her?" he said sharply.

Helen flinched violently and jerked from his arms, raising her hands to

her ears and making an unintelligible noise, something akin to panic.

She began whimpering and Scully reached out to her, more out of instinct

than any ability to calm her or offer reassurance.

"Mulder, --"

Helen shrieked and moved her head between them, glancing from one to the

other.

A low keening began in her throat and Scully felt the tears slipping free

from her eyes as she grabbed her little girl and held her close.

Signing calming words into her hands, Scully brushed her hair from her

forehead and rocked her back and forth in time to her wails.

Helen's hands were fumbling to meet Scully's, and Mulder grabbed them and

let her sign into his palms.

Her words were panicked attempts to explain something she could not.

Mulder stopped, a look of horror and sudden joy racing across his face.

He touched Scully's arm and she turned to see him, her mind still caught

up in trying to calm her baby girl.

The look on his face made her still.

"She . . . she can see. Scully. She said she can see us. And hear."

Scully glanced down to Helen, who was tightly closing her eyes and

pressing her hands over her ears, whimpering.

"See. And hear?"

Mulder nodded and touched Helen's arm.

Helen turned to him, slowly opened her eyes and squinted, trying to keep

down the visual overload.

He signed Daddy into her fingers and she shook slightly, then nodded and

turned to the woman holding her, looking.

Seeing.

"They changed her back, Mulder. They changed her back."

He shook his head. "What?"

"They took away that connection. It's gone now, I can feel it. But they

gave her sight and hearing back."

Mulder touched Helen again and signed to her "I'm going to say your name."

He waited until she understood, then softly said, "Helen."

Her face lit and she slowly let her hands fall from her ears. Grabbing his

hands, she asked him to say it again.

He did and she glanced to her mother, then asked her to say it.

She looked surprised when the sounds were different coming from Scully.

She opened her mouth and tried to repeat the attempt, only found that the

sounds were missing. No beautiful words came from her mouth.

Scully looked to Mulder, frantic. "She can't talk, Mulder."

"Of course not. She's never heard it before. I don't think she ever will

be able to talk though, Scully. She's missed too many critical periods.

The formative years are basically over now for her. She'll be able to say

a limited amount, I think."

"How can you be sure?"

"Not sure. But children have been found in the jungle, raised by either

monkeys or just left there. Feral children is what they're called. They

can't speak obviously, and even when they're taught, the words don't come.

The children even died much sooner that usual. Most committed suicide."

"Suicide?"

"But those were feral children. The same concept applies here. She's never

heard the language. Signing *is* her language and in order to keep her

grounded in this new world, we've got to sign to her, Scully."

He glanced over to Helen to see her head following them, her eyes wide as

they talked, taking it all in.

He smiled and ruffled her hair, just as he always did, and then kissed her

nose.

Helen closed her eyes and smiled, then opened them and attempted to stand

up.

She pitched forward and weaved and ended up hitting the floor hard.

Making a noise of frustration, and then surprising herself when she heard

the guttural growl, Helen closed her eyes and stood easily, then moved

towards them, positioning her body in Scully's lap.

She sank into her arms and snuggled deep, keeping her eyes closed.

"See? Life for her is this darkness. She operates better in it. With time,

she'll come to understand it, process it, but now, things are too much all

at once."

Scully nodded and stroked Helen's forehead, kissing her softly.

"So what do we do?" she asked, unaccustomed to being at a loss.

"We get out of here."

They both stood, Scully cradling Helen and waiting for Mulder to gain his

balance.

He stepped away. "I think you'd better carry Helen. I . . . I'm a little

unsteady."

"You probably haven't gotten your strength back."

He nodded and they moved around the room, exploring walls and seams and

wishing for an easy way out, just once for them to get lucky.

He paused. "What if we're on a space ship?"

She raised her eyebrow and shook her head. "I'm more than convinced now

that this is run by our own government. They're using humans to further

their genetic testing and the idea of the super race. They're trying to

create superhumans, Mulder. And they're using our genes and our DNA to

do it."

She was ready to start yelling, her face flushed and her arms shifting

Helen's weight.

Mulder glanced over to her and then back to the walls. "But if it's

aliens, Scully. What if the governement is simply copying their

experiments? What if this is a race to find the breed of humans that

are impervious to the aliens' colonization efforts? What if the aliens

are testing to come up with a better, bigger, stronger virus?"

"Mulder. We can argue the finer points later. Right now, we have to get

out of here."

"But if this is a space ship and we go ripping a hole in the wall, we

might get sucked into space."

She rolled her eyes and put his questions out of her mind.

"Keep looking Mulder."

~~~~~

She leaned against the wall, resting her arms as Mulder sat down, panting,

his energy nil at the moment. Helen was sitting at Scully's feet, her head

sweeping the entire room with enthusiasm. She seemed to be doing better

about suddenly being able to see.

Mulder leaned back and sprawled onto the floor.

Suddenly the room went too bright.

Too white.

Helen whimpered and pressed her face into Scully's leg.

Too white.

It was enveloping them, erasing every thought and scouring their minds.

Then there was blackness.

A yawning void that swallowed them whole.

~~~~~

end chapter

adios

RM

Overweighted

Chapter Twenty-Three

By RocketMan

~~~~~

"the fox came every evening to my door

asking for nothing. my fear

trapped me inside. . ."

-- 'telling our stories' Lucille Clifton

~~~~~

When the noises intruded, he realized he was somewhere else.

There was the sound of buzzing, like a doorbell, and then the pouding of

his blood through his tender head.

A voice was calling him and he reached out suddenly, catching the person

who was murmuring his name.

The skin was soft and warm, and the smell of the person reminded him of

something he should be familiar with, but he couldn't get his brain

un-fuzzed.

"Mulder?"

His eyes managed to open and there she was.

"Scully."

He pulled himself up and glanced around, confused, unsure of what all he

had experienced, of what was truth and what was dreams.

"What . . . where . . . Helen?"

Scully motioned behind her and he turned his head to see Helen, sitting

quietly watching them, her eyes wide and blinking as she attempted to make

sense of the images she now saw.

"Are you all right, Mulder? You've been out longer than us."

"How long?"

"At least thirty minutes. I couldn't even get you to the couch."

"The couch? Where are we?"

"Your apartment," she said and her face was just as confused as his.

"How'd we get here?"

"I guess . . . guess they returned us, Mulder. I don't know . . . I

don't understand why."

Mulder glanced over to Helen, holding out his hand to touch her leg,

reestablish some contact with her. She took his hand and squeezed it

tightly, signing hello into his palm.

He pulled her to him and pushed her head to his shoulder, kissing her

forehead, then glanced to Scully.

"They changed her back, Scully. They 'fixed' her and now they can be sure

she won't ruin them. We have no evidence of anything."

"I don't care what they did, Mulder. I'm just glad she's alive . . .

glad you're alive."

Mulder stood and carried Helen to the couch, tugging on Scully's shirt

to get her to follow him over. As soon as she was sitting, he touched

her cheek, softly following the contours of her face with a reverent

hand.

"Maybe they'll leave us alone now. We're no threat to them anymore,

right?"

She watched the frantic play of emotions across his face, the way his

eyes still held doubts about her, and the twitch of his finger as he

smoothed over her skin.

She took his hand and kissed his knuckles, shaking her head.

"We're no threat. We're a family," she said and leaned in to him, glancing

her lips across his with a hint of seduction.

He smiled and nodded his head toward Helen, winking at Scully.

Taking Helen by the hand, he pulled her up from the couch and led her

towards her room, signing bedtime into her palm and promising her that

everything was all right now.

When he opened the door, a dog barked and bounded over to them.

Helen skirted away, backing into Mulder's legs as he laughed.

Scully came in from the living room and saw Sam, wagging his tail

excitedly and barking with excitement.

Scully signed 'Sam' to Helen and scooted her forward, letting the dog

sniff around her and thump his tail in greeting.

Helen buried her face into his furry side and began crying, clutching at

the dog like a lifeline. Mulder quickly went to her, rubbing her back and

asking what was wrong.

She shook her head and signed nothing, then pulled on Sam's collar, urging

him to the bed with her.

Scully tucked them both under the covers and kissed Helen's cheek, then

stroked her forehead, smiling and saying out loud, "I love you."

She signed as she spoke and Helen's eyes went wide, then she held her arms

out and hugged her mother fiercely, making a furious attempt to say the

words back.

She mumbled out something that, to her, was 'I love you' and Scully beamed

brightly, wiping tears away with her hand. Mulder kissed Helen's cheek and

signed and spoke the same words.

Helen turned over in bed and buried her face into Sam's side, shutting her

eyes tightly and relaxing into the bed.

Mulder crept out with Scully as she clicked off the light, realizing that

they had always turned off the light, and only now would that matter.

She could see.

She could hear.

Scully turned to Mulder and smiled radiantly, standing on her tiptoes to

kiss his mouth.

He grabbed her roaming hands and brought them to his lips.

Then, staring straight down into her soul, he signed "I love you" across

her cheek, following the words with kisses across her face.

She closed her eyes and whispered, "I love you too."

He nuzzled her neck and breathed in the gentle smell of home and her.

"They won't come after us again. We're safe."

She hugged him against her.

"We're safe."

~~~~~

end

adios

RM

THIS ENDS IT ALL!!