This is a contribution from Kuusamo@aol.com This story was written before the Official X-Files Companion was released, telling the name of the youngest Scully sibling as Charles. Kuusamo has named him Pat, and he will remain such in all works by Kuusamo. This is an alternate universe he has created using faeries whom are involved with this story. Rated R for some violence and a lot of rough language (Well, Pat -is- a Marine....) And now for something completely different.... X-Files "Reunions -- A Paperclip Sequel" Washington, D.C. Three Hours Ago "Doctor Brand to intensive care!" Martin Brand let the cigarette drop into the ashtray. It was the Scully woman. He'd had a bad feeling about her since she had been brought in. It was a miracle she lasted so long, what with the damage to her brain. Still, there was a chance they could save her. A very slim chance. -Melissa Scully, wake up this instant- Melissa opened her eyes. Everything was white, even the uniform of the man standing (floating?) a few feet away. -What happened Where am I- She stared at the man. -Do I know you- A gentle laugh. -It's been a long time, Melissa, but not that long- The clouds parted from around the man. -Daddy You are here Then I'm dead, aren't I- -No It's your choice Melissa You can go back if you want to- -It's so peaceful here Just like Dana said it would be- -It is peaceful Melissa But you don't have to be here yet- -Why What happened I can't remember- "Give me her vitals," Martin said, slipping on his surgical gloves. "It's not good, Doctor. Her blood pressure is rising fast." "Shit. Okay, get-" Abruptly, his voice was broken off by the dull, persistent 'breep' of the EKG. "She's flat-lining!" Melissa shivered and reached to tap her chest. She could hear a faint beep coming from within. -It's your link to the world of the living- -I'm dying, aren't I- -Yes But you can choose to go back- -It's so calm here- Captain Scully's voice became desperate - If you stay here you can't help your sister- -Is Dana in danger- -Now more than ever- Captain Scully sighed -You can help her- -I want to- -There is a price- Margaret Scully watched the young doctor hurry past her and into the operating room. "She is choosing," Albert whispered, laying a hand on Margaret's shoulder. "Whether to pass on or stay among us." "Oh, Missy...." Margaret sobbed, leaning against Albert. "My little girl...." "She is with someone who will show her the way." Albert smiled. "It will not be long." -What price- -You will lose your gift, the Sight- -Why- -Everything has a price Melissa This is your price for life- -What choice do I have- Captain Scully smiled. -I'm proud of you Melissa Now I have to go and so do you- -Good bye Daddy- He smiled and sharply saluted. -We will see each other again.- Melissa winked at him. -I know- Martin stared down at the patient in shock. He could have sworn she had winked. "Holy....we've got a heartbeat!" the nurse exclaimed. "What happened?" "I don't know! Look at the tissue around the wound!" The small, exposed section of brain tissue seemed to twinkle. The darkened, injured tissue was gone. Someone whispered a prayer. "It's a miracle." Martin had to agree with them. Fox Mulder opened the door to Melissa's room. The bed was empty. Scully sat in the chair, asleep. "Dana?" "Mulder....what are you doing here?" "I came to...I was worried." He stared at the empty bed. "I'm so sorry, Dana." Scully smiled. "I appreciate the sympathy, but she's still in the operating room." "Oh. Well, that's good news." He knew what it was like to lose a sister. Only the hope had kept him going. If Melissa died, Scully wouldn't have that hope. "Sit down." Scully smiled again, but this time, tears were in her eyes. "Oh, Mulder, I'm so scared..." "I know." Martin stared at Melissa. "What?" People who get shot through in the head shouldn't be talking, he said to himself. Then again, they shouldn't regenerate brain tissue either. "Head hurts," she whispered, then closed her eyes. "That's an understatement," Martin replied. "Okay, let's get her back to her room. I want her under constant supervision, though, and notify me if anything happens." "Right, Doctor. Where will you be?" "I need to tell her mother the good news. Then I need a drink or three." Margaret looked up as the doctor approached. "Doctor?" He smiled. "Your daughter is fine." "Oh, thank God!" "God had a lot to do with it, Mrs. Scully." "I don't understand." "Honestly, neither do I. I've never seen anything like it. She completely regenerated her lost tissue. It's almost as if the injury never occurred." One Hour Ago Cancer Man snubbed the cigarette in the ash tray with an angry flick of his wrist. Trust Krycek to screw up even his mistakes. With a sigh, he lit another cigarette. Everything had gone so wrong. Mulder had come so close to the truth this time. Those files were never meant to be seen. Especially the one labeled 'Mulder, Samantha Ann.' Thank God that Mulder and Scully had been unable to take it with them. Even worse was the fact that the others, those he worked with, no longer trusted him. Their secrets were in danger, more than they had been since the elder Mulder had betrayed them, and they blamed him. All his plans had failed. The damned MJ files were still out there. Mulder was alive, all charges against him dropped. Scully was alive, and quite likely in possession of material evidence from her time in captivity. Skinner had blackmailed him like a rank amateur. And even the minor matter of Melissa Scully was a failure. It was possible she could identify her attackers. That would make things awkward. Krycek was gone, out of his reach. Ramirez was too valuable to risk losing over such a ridiculous mistake. With a grunt, he realized that at least one problem could be solved. So many patients died after extensive surgery. It was just tragic, wasn't it? The secretary rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, sir, but unless you're a member of the family, I'm not allowed to-" "I AM a member of the family," the marine officer protested, awkwardly running a hand through his short black hair. "Lieutenant Patrick Scully." "You're the husband of the patient?" Pat sighed impatiently. "I -told- you, I'm her brother." "I have no record of a Patrick Scully." "Oh, for God sakes! I need to see her, God damn it!" "Sir, please calm down-" "Don't you tell me to calm down! I am a GODDAMN MARINE, so don't fucking tell me to fucking calm down!" He reached over and snatched the phone out of the secretary's hand. "Just tell me where I can fucking find my goddamn fucking sister before I fucking rip this fucking hospital in half, do you fucking understand?!" "Paddy?" Instantly, Pat dropped the secretary's phone and spun around. "Hi Mom," he whispered, cringing. Hell hath no fury like a pissed off Scully woman. Margaret glanced at the terrified secretary, then frowned angrily at her son. "Come with me right this instant." Head bowed, Pat followed his mom meekly. "Yes'm." When they were out of sight of the desk, Margaret pointed an angry finger at Pat. "Where on Earth did you learn those manners?" "United States Marine Corps, sir!" "This is no time to be funny, Paddy. I taught you better than that." "I'm sorry. They wouldn't tell me where Missy was." He leaned back against the wall. "Is she okay, Mom?" "Yes, thank God." "I knew it. She's a Scully. We're tougher than normal people," he whispered, half-smiling. "Right Mom?" Margaret smiled. "What am I going to do with you, Paddy?" Mulder poked his head out of Melissa's room. The noise had startled Dana and even woken Melissa for a few seconds. "Uh, Scully, do you happen to know a seven foot tall Marine with black hair and eyes that are remarkably similar to yours?" She jumped up from the chair. "Paddy!" The Marine jumped back when a laughing Dana Scully leapt up onto him. "Paddy!" "Whoa! At ease, sis!" He lowered her to the ground. "Good to see you, by the way. You're keeping in shape, right? Not letting those sissy FBI agents get you fat?" "Speaking of sissy FBI agents, this is my partner Mulder." "Mulder, eh? So you're the one who keeps getting my sis in trouble?" Pat snarled, glaring down at Mulder. "Paddy..." Dana sighed. "Be nice." "Good to meet you, sir. Dana's told me all about you," Pat smiled, shaking Mulder's hand. "I've going to have to have a talk with you." Mulder smiled nervously. "He scares me," he stage-whispered to Scully. "So, where's Missy?" Pat asked. "In here, Paddy." "Uh, Scully, I think I'm going to get something to drink." All three Scullys looked up at him. "So you really -do- call her Scully." Pat shook his head in amusement. " That could cause some confusion, so how about you call her Dana. I'm Paddy. That's Mom." "Okay. -Dana- I'm going to get something to drink." "Sure." "Psst...Sis, he means you should come with him," Pat whispered loudly. "Paddy!" "Go on, sis. I'll hold the fort for you." When they were gone, Pat turned to Margaret. "What the hell happened, Mom? Who shot her?" "I don't know. She went to talk to Dana, and she was...a neighbor heard the shots...They brought her here." "Why? Mom, who was trying to kill Dana?" "You don't think it was like that, do you?" Margaret asked in shock. "Who would do that?" "I don't know. But Dana and I are going to have a long talk tonight. This is getting crazy. " Inside the room, an elderly Indian was sitting next to Melissa's bed. He looked up and smiled when they entered. "Mrs. Scully. Your daughter is recovering." "Albert, this is my son Patrick. Paddy, this is Albert Hosteen. He's been helping." "How do you do, sir? Hosteen? I served under a Major Floyd Hosteen in Grenada. Any relation?" Albert nodded proudly. "He is my son." "Good man. Damn fine officer. Does you proud." "Mrs. Scully, I must go now." "Oh, thank you. You've been such a blessing, Albert." "Thank you. I hope that Melissa recovers swiftly." Once he was gone, Pat smiled. "Dana sure has interesting friends." He paused, frowning, and glanced at Melissa. "Do you want to be alone with Missy?" "Just for a minute or two." "Of course." She slipped out the door. "So....Hi, Missy. God, you had me so scared. When Mom called yesterday, I thought you were dead. You're damn lucky, kiddo. Not many people survive a gunshot to the head." He frowned at the memory. "But, you're a Scully, so I figure that had something to do with it." He sat down and fidgeted with a get well card from someone named Frohike. "God, I've never been this nervous, not even in Grenada or Panama. Had me scared like hell, kiddo, worse'n the time you feel down the creek in third grade. Remember that? Me and Billy carried you all the way home, and Dana was crying like hell, and - ah, hell...This is crazy. I've fought in four wars, taken bullets in the gut, but I can't even talk to my little sis without choking up." Melissa stirred, opening her eyes. "Well, look who's awake," Pat smiled, pulling the chair closer to the bed. "Hi, Paddy," Melissa replied weakly.. "Knew you'd show up." "How do you feel, kiddo?" "Tired. Got a headache." "A headache? I pull every favor I'm owed, miss out the annual poker tournament, come all the way from Okinawa on an Army cargo plane, and you have a headache?" "Sorry to disappoint you." "Hey, kiddo, you -never- disappointed me. Remember that time you sprung me out of jail when Mom and Dad were in Long Beach back in '77?" "Who could forget? You needed me. Dana and Billy weren't old enough to drive." "Well, I'm glad it was you. Billy, well, he's a good kid, but he would have never let me hear the end of it. And Dana....Well, I can't expect a thirteen year old to bail me out." "You'd be surprised. Dana was always more mature then most kids her age." "Not like us, huh?" "We try, though, don't we, Paddy?" She closed her eyes. "So tired." "No problem. I'll come back later, okay?" He clasped her shoulder tightly, then stood up and left. Cancer Man picked up the phone and dialed a number from memory. "Ramirez. Take care of the Scully sister." "Yes, sir" Satisfied, he set down the phone. Problem solved. "So, spill Dana. You've got the hots for this Foxy guy, don't you?" "Paddy, hush!" Margaret hissed. Dana laughed. "It's okay, Mom. We're just friends, Paddy. And his name's Mulder." Pat shrugged and took another bite of cafeteria pizza. "Got to wonder about a guy who prefers his last name." Dana smirked. "Is that so? Speaking of first names...." "Whoops." "What?" Mulder asked, sitting down with a mug of coffee in his hand. "We were just talking about Paddy's real first name." "Zip it, sis." "Oh, hush, Paddy. It's a cute story." "I'm dying to hear it, Mrs. Scully." "Mom, please. It's silly." "Paddy, hush. You started it, remember." "All right, already," Pat sighed, chewing another chunk of pizza. "Okay. Bill and I had been married about six months when I became pregnant with Paddy. When he was in Korea, your father had a Greek captain named Patroclus Papadoclus. He was such a great friend to your father, saved his life more than once, so we decided to name the baby Patroclus." "Patroclus Scully?" Mulder asked, staring in surprise at Pat. He shrugged. "Pat, for short. Changing the subject, I heard you two got into some trouble recently?" "That," Mulder sighed, "is putting it -very- mildly." "Spill, Dana. I get more news from Missy in one letter than from you in an entire year. Speaking of which, I haven't gotten any mail from you since Christmas." "I'm sorry. It's been a busy year." "I'll bet. Tell all." Ramirez stared down at the list of patients. The Scully woman was in room 715. This would be a very simple job. He would not only get rid of a nuisance to the government, hamper the opposition and their so-called X-Files, and improve his reputation with his bosses, he would be able to clean up after that buffoon Krycek. Strolling down the hall in a borrowed nurse's uniform, Ramirez patted the small hypodermic in his pocket. One dose of it would cause the body to fatally restrict blood flow to the brain. Anything other than a complete toxicological test would show the cause of death as a stroke. Just another benefit of working for the government, Ramirez mused. You get the best toys. "You ate the bug?" Pat asked in disbelief. "When you were a kid, you were scared to death of creepy-crawlies!" Dana shrugged. "All in the line of duty." "Taking a bullet for Uncle Sam is in the line of duty. Eating a cricket at a circus sideshow is just crazy." Pat laughed. "I wish I had seen it." "Trust me, Pat, it was pretty gross. Spooky, even," Mulder said. "Speaking of 'spooky', I understand that you're the one who solved the Folkstone case?" Pat asked. Mulder nodded. "I knew Private Dunham. Good kid, served under me in Somalia. What the hell happened to him?" "He was murdered," Scully said. "By another Marine." "No fucking way. That's crazy." "He was a zombie." Pat's jaw dropped. "Whaaaaat?" "Someone had given the murderer drugs that slowed his heartbeat to the point of death and made him extremely susceptible to commands. He killed Private Dunham in that state." "Who was behind it?" "Another Marine, Corporal Wharton. He was a voodoo priest." "Oh, boy." Pat shook his head. "And I thought I've seen weird shit in the Corps." Mulder leaned forward. "What do you mean?" Pat shrugged. "Well, I've been in the Corp for almost twenty years, so I've seen heavy tours of duty. Somalia, Grenada, you name it, I've been there. And, you should see some of the shit that goes on in Okinawa. Makes the National Inquirer look tame." "What sort of things?" "Well, all sort of crap. UFOs, buzzing the base once or twice. Word from the brass is to keep our mouths shut. And, one time, we caught this Japanese psycho coming through the perimeter. He killed three Marines before we wasted him. Unbelievable. I saw him take six rounds in the gut and just shrug them off. Next day, the bodies are all hauled back to the States, and the brass tells the families it was a training accident." "What do you think it was?" "Beats me. Some of the locals, they have these stories, about vampires. Gaki, they call 'em. I don't know. I've seen guys so pumped up on adrenaline, they can take just about anything, but....Why did the brass steal the bodies? Who knows? You learn not to ask questions when that sort of thing happens." "Aren't you the least bit curious?" Mulder asked. "I got curious once, when some friends of mine got killed in a car accident. Turns out they were on drugs. My little snooping got that all over the papers and got me passed over for a promotion three times." He smiled. "Not that I want a desk job, though. Anyway, I better go keep an eye on Missy. You can't trust these civilian doctors." "We'll be up in a bit, Paddy." Pat nodded and headed for the gift shop, belatedly realizing he had left the jade dragon he'd bought for Melissa in his hotel room. He stopped at the magazine rack and absently thumbed through a copy of Newsweek, then decided not to bother. She was too zoned out to read anything right now. Halfway to the elevator, Pat stopped. The nurse coming down the hall looked out of place. It only took a second to figure out why. "Walks like a spook." The pieces clicked. CIA....Hospital....Missy....Trouble! "Hey!" Pat shouted, breaking into a run. The nurse took one look at him, then turned and fled, dashing down a side hallway. "Stop him!" Pat pointed at the 'nurse' and angrily shoved aside a secretary blocking his path. Just as he came within spitting distance of the 'nurse', two burly security guards pinned him down. "God sakes! Let me go, you stupid fucks! He's getting away!" "Calm down, soldier." "You stupid fuck, he's getting away!" They had forcibly dragged him halfway to the exit when Dana, Mulder and Margaret showed up. "He's okay," Dana sighed, flashing her FBI badge. When the guards were gone, Dana snapped. "What the hell were you doing!?" "There was this man, dressed like a nurse. I think he was CIA. These putzes let him get away." He nervously ran a hand through his hair. "Dana, go up to Missy's room. I'm going to call some friends." 'Some friends' turned out to be half a dozen Marines. Once Pat explained the situation, they quickly took up posts around Melissa's room. Much to the annoyance of the doctors, they searched everyone who came in, keeping a close eye on the administration of medicine. "No two-bit CIA fuck is getting in here, kiddo," Pat boasted, patting Melissa on the shoulder. "They'll have to go through fifteen hundred pounds of United States Marines. I'm here for you kiddo." Melissa nodded weakly. "You always are." Ramirez dialed the phone nervously. He'd botched this one up, and badly. "Yes?" the voice on the other end asked quietly. "The Scully brother was there. He stopped me, and now he's got a damn pack of Marines keeping guard. There's no way I can get in." "Return to base and wait for further orders." Ramirez put down the phone. That had gone easier than he expected. He never heard the bullet as it crashed through the wall of the phone booth, into his skull, through his brain, and out his forehead. Death was instantaneous. Mr. X watched through the rifle scope as Ramirez's body collapsed inside the phone booth. "Got you, you son of a bitch." Working fast, he disassembled the rifle and tossed each part down a chimney. "Now we're even, Mulder." He hadn't been able to protect Mulder and Scully while they had been in New Mexico, despite the debt he owed them. He hadn't even been able to protect Scully's sister. He was slipping up. This balanced the scales. End of story. "Paddy-boy, check it out." One of the Marines pointed out the window. An ambulance was sitting across the street. Two paramedics carried a body from a nearby phone booth to the ambulance. "Who the fuck needs an ambulance in front of a hospital?" "Beats me, Paddy-boy. Looks kind of funny." "Okay. Let's check it out. C'mon, Yung." Pat knelt next to Melissa's bed. "Missy, I'm going out for a bit, okay? These guys will take care of you. Any problem, just give me one of your little yells, okay?" He smiled and tapped her on the forehead. Unexpectedly, Melissa burst into tears. "What? What's the matter, kiddo?" "I can't!" she muttered, rubbing her eyes. "I can't!" Pat frowned and looked for the doctor. What the hell was she talking about? "Can't what, kiddo?" "Do it. It won't work any more." "Your little yells? Why?" "They told me. I had to give it up so I could come back, so I could help Dana." Oh, God. What is she saying? "Who told you?" "Daddy...." "Missy, you saw Dad?" "When I was in surgery. He let me come back." Pat smiled. Melissa had always relied on Dad more than she knew. She'd always tried to be independent, but never stopped looking for his favor. Too bad Dad never figured it out. "Shh...It's okay, Missy. We'll take about this later, okay?" She nodded, then leaned back and closed her eyes. "Come on, Yung." Cancer Man lit the cigarette with an angry snap of the lighter. Now Ramirez was dead, too. It wouldn't matter now if Melissa Scully could identify Ramirez or Krycek. His men had already retrieved Ramirez. As for Krycek, the chance of him ever encountering a Scully again were remote. He had probably already fled to Canada. "Son of a bitch," Pat swore, watching the ambulance disappear up the street. "What the hell is going on? Did you get the license?" Not that it would matter. This whole thing stank of government involvement. They wouldn't be so sloppy. Yung shook his head. "Sorry, Pat." "Okay. I'm going to pick up some of my things. I'll be back in an hour or two." Dr. Brand glanced at the update on Melissa Scully. Ever since those damn Marines had set up camp, he hadn't been able to stay there for more than a few minutes at a time. Who did those thugs think they were? This was a hospital, not some ramshackle military base. The government would hear about this for sure. Soldiers can't just come in and disrupt the orderly running of a hospital because some paranoid Marine thinks people are trying to kill his sister. Martin frowned and re-read a portion of the chart. "This -can't- be right. Phil, are you sure about this?" The nurse picked up the chart, scanned it, and nodded. "Yep. Double-checked it myself." "This -can't- be right," Martin repeated, shaking his head. "Missy, dear?" Melissa opened her eyes. "Good morning, dear. Dr. Brand wants to talk to you. He says its important." From the look on Margaret's face, what was important for Dr. Brand was a nuisance to her. "S'okay. I'm feeling better." Margaret smiled, then stepped back, letting Martin sit down next to Melissa. "Good to see you awake, ma'am. How's your head feel?" "Not that bad. The headache is mostly gone." "Uh-huh. That's good news." He frowned and wrung his hands nervously. "I was reading your latest chart when I found some puzzling information on it. I thought it best to share this with you." Melissa nodded hesitantly. "What did you find?" "Our tests show that the damaged portion of your brain has completely regenerated. Well, actually, not quite all. A small area still remains damaged, and I don't think you'll be able to access it." "Well, what does it do?" Nightmares of being unable to walk or chew food drifted through her mind. Dr. Brand bit his lip. "Well, you see, we're not sure. There are some doctors who theorize that it, uh, controls certain extrasensory functions. The psychic center, so to speak. Therefore, you might find yourself unable to bend spoons in the future. I don't exactly think that's a practical concern," Dr. Brand laughed. "All the same, I'd like to run one last test, to see if maybe we can find out what's preventing the tissue from healing. Aside from that, I see no reason why we should keep you here." "I can go home after the operation?" "I don't see why not. It might be a good idea if you have someone keep an eye on you for the next week or so." He pulled out a small card. "This is the name of one of my colleagues, Dr. Malcolm MacArthur. He's a graduate of Edinburgh University, brilliant brain surgeon. Uh, he's also one of the leading parapsychologists in the country. He might be able to, uh, consult with you on your psychic center." Dr. Brand smiled. -Can't believe I just said that.- "And, of course, if you experience any dizziness, or headaches, call the hospital immediately." After he left, Margaret shook her head. "These young doctors today. Psychic centers, indeed." Melissa bit back a smile and didn't remind her mom that Dr. Brand was a good ten years older than she was, and one of the top brain surgeons on the East Coast. Besides, she had heard of Dr. MacArthur. He was at the top of the field. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to get her psychic powers back. "Oh, look, you got a card. It's from that Frohike person." Margaret read it, then scowled and discretely dropped it in the trash. "And Dana said to tell you she'll be back tomorrow once she gets work sorted out." "What about Paddy?" "He went to get some of his things. He shouldn't be long, dear." "Mom, you don't have to stay here. You should get some sleep." "Nonsense. I've been thinking, Missy. We really hardly see each other, except on holidays, and it's silly. You live barely a half hour away. We should spend more time together." You always have the time to see Dana, Melissa thought for a brief second, then she shook the thought away and nodded. "That'd be great. Once I get out of here you can come visit me at work. You'd love it. The guys at the station are just great. And the kids would -love- to have you around. You can help me baby-sit them." Margaret made a polite, noncommitant sound and nodded, then changed the subject. Melissa smiled. Moms were great. Pat gently lifted the jade dragon. It had cost him nearly four hundred dollars, a noticeable chunk of his savings. What with the miniature banzai he'd gotten Mom, and the decorative knife for Dana, he'd spent a lot of yen on this trip. But the dragon was worth it. It was beautiful, hand-crafted in Kyoto. Missy deserved it. Mom and Dana meant well, but they always got her stupid gifts that ended up in her closet. And Billy...Billy didn't know what to make of Missy. He just treated her like a slightly-crazy aunt and sent checks on her birthday. Someone has to be nice to Missy. Someone has to understand her. God knows Dad and Mom didn't when we were growing up. Mom was too busy with the babies to pay attention, and Dad was gone for months at a time, serving Uncle Sam. No wonder Missy had ended up the black sheep of clan Scully. Pat shook his head. If they'd only seen it coming, they could have eased the split. He'd been in the Marines for a year when Missy left home. Dad had been furious. They didn't speak for months, which had only made things worse. She took up with some of her friends, and got sucked into this whole 'New-Age' bit. Pat could imagine -those- arguments with Dad. He'd been a military man, the old fashioned type, and just wouldn't accept Melissa's new beliefs. Dana appeared to be fast following in his footsteps in this. Well, there might be something to it. Pat had always been able to know when Missy was in trouble, since they were kids. He jokingly called it her little yells, even though Missy never raised her voice. She was shy as a mouse as a girl. And now, now she thought that the price for her life was losing that gift. Not that she'd ever tell Mom or Dana. They just wouldn't listen. To hell with 'em. I always listened, kiddo. Pat covered the dragon with a towel and closed the trunk. It had taken longer than he expected to get to the hotel. Mom was probably worried sick about him. Worried sick. Thirty six years old, a Lieutenant in the Marine Corps, decorated veteran of four wars, and still treated like a little boy by his mom. Pat smiled. Moms were great. "Where's Missy?" Pat asked, staring at the empty bed. "In surgery. They wanted to run one last test on her. Some ridiculous thing about psychic brain damage." She said that she gave up her gift to come back. Maybe... "That could be why she can't do it any more," Pat muttered. The bullet had torn up the part of her brain that let her do her little yells. "Do what?" Dana asked, frowning. What was he talking about? He tapped his head. "You know, her little yells." "Paddy, don't tell me you're buying that. Telepathy?" "Why not, Mrs. MD?" "Because it's impossible." "Why would Missy lie?" "To get noticed!" Pat whistled in surprise. She was -so- wrong. "That's not it at all, Dana. How can you say that?" "Be honest, Paddy. She was always a little jealous of the rest of us." "That's crap, Dana. Missy was proud of you." "Then why did she make up these crazy stories?" "She didn't make them up, Dana. How can you say that? She's your sister, for God sakes!" "Paddy, people can -not- communicate like that. It's science fiction." "Oh, God. That's what this is all about? You just can't shake that damn rigid thinking, can you? Why don't you at least meet her half-way? If you at least accepted that she might believe this as much as you believe in, well, whatever you believe in, then you might not argue so much." "Pat, you just can't expect me to buy into her little theories!" "Why the hell not? Jesus, Dana, what will it take? She fucking nearly died because of you!" "That's not-" Dana said automatically, then stopped, startled by the outrage on Pat's face. "You're a fucking wonder, Dana. Why the hell else was she shot? You and your damn X-Files nearly got her killed. Absolutely fucking amazing. You still cling to this little med-school universe, where everything is answered in the chapter summary. That's not real life. You always thought that Missy was out there, but you're the one with the problem with reality. For God sakes, you were fucking abducted! You nearly died, and nobody knows what the hell they did to you! What do you say to explain that?" "Pat, you have no right to-" He cut her off angrily. "Don't give me that bullshit. I'm your big brother. That gives me the right to tell you that you are fucking up everything with your attitude. Who's the next they're going to try to kill? Billy? Me? Mom? You fucking don't tell us anything about what you do. Fine, that's your business. But when people try to kill Missy because of your work, I think you owe us some explanation." "Pat, I don't understand it myself!" He smiled gently. "Well, it's about time you said that. You finally realized that not everything just wraps up into a neat little package, huh? Good for you. It's about fucking time. Next time, don't wait for shit like this, huh?" He smiled and hugged her. "You're a good kid, Dana. More or less." "Pat, I didn't mean that stuff before, about Missy." "Yes, you did. That's okay. Missy and I are pretty worried about you, too." "What?" "Well, sure. You think that you don't disappoint us a little?" Dana frowned. "What do you mean?" "Well, this FBI thing." Pat scowled. "We all thought you'd get some cushy job, marry money, and support us into our old age." "Paddy!" She slapped him playfully. "You are out of the will, buddy." He laughed. "That's better. You don't do that moping routine very well. Speaking of mopey, what's the deal with your partner? Are you and him, well, involved?" "No. He's just a friend." She smiled. "A good friend, though." "You'd make a cute couple. Hell, I'm waiting for -somebody- make me an uncle." She smiled. "You'd be great at it, Paddy." "I'm great at -everything-, Dana." "Miss Scully? Can you hear me?" "mm-hmm." Melissa groaned. Her head hurt again. It itched like crazy, too, where they had shaved off her hair. "Melissa? It's Dr. Brand. We finished the operation. I'm afraid that we were unable to discover the reason why that portion of your brain didn't heal. It's very unusual. Never seen anything like it." "It's new for me, too," she whispered, falling back to sleep. "Hey, kiddo, wake up. I've got a present for you." Pat, Dana, Margaret, and Mulder were standing around Melissa's bed, with the ever-present Marines lurking in the background. "Hmm?" Melissa rubbed her eyes. "It's the middle of the night." "What better time? 'Sides, I'm still on Okinawa time," Pat replied. "Here ya go." He handed her a small package wrapped in newspaper. A handwritten card had a yellow smiley face on it, the words 'GET WELL SOON....OR ELSE!' and a scribbled signature under them. "How sweet." "Open it." "Shhh. I'm savoring the moment. Karma this good doesn't come along this often." Mulder and Pat laughed, Dana shook her head and Margaret smiled politely. "Open it, kiddo." "Okay, okay." She tore off the wrapping and unveiled a gorgeous jade dragon, rearing up as if to surge forward and swallow someone up. "Oh, spirits, this is beautiful, Paddy." Pat shrugged. "Just a little something I bought in Kyoto on leave. I thought you'd like it. The man said it gives good luck." "I can tell. Oh, thank you so much. I'll treasure it always." "Just as much as we treasure you, kiddo." Pat hugged Melissa, than snapped to attention. "And now, I'm afraid, I have to head back. I'm due at Okinawa tomorrow night." "So soon?" "Sorry, kiddo. I'll be back for your birthday, though. I promise." "Okay. Have a good trip." "Take care of yourself, kiddo. And keep these crazy kids out of trouble," he said, nodding at Mulder and Dana. "Sir, it was nice to meet you." He shook Mulder's hand. "Likewise, Pat." "Dana. What can I say? Write more often." "I will." "Well, that's all. Mom, you want me to drop you off on the way to the airport?" "Would you, dear?" "No problem." "Dana, Missy, I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, Fox." Pat and Margaret disappeared out the door. "So. You get a jade dragon, and he gets me a puny letter opener," Dana grumbled, pulling out the six inch, pearl handled knife. "You have no sense of perspective, Dana. Besides, Pat loves me more." She stuck her tongue out at Dana, than yawned. "Mmm-getting sleepy." "Time to call it a night, I think." "Probably right. See you tomorrow?" "Of course. Good night, Missy." "mmm..." She was already half asleep by the time Dana and Mulder left the room, still clutching Pat's card. Two Days Later "And here we are, Missy." Melissa stared at her apartment. It had only been a week, but it seemed like a lifetime. "Everything looks different." "Dana was here yesterday. We fixed it up a bit. It was so messy! Honestly, all those tapes and books lying around....Anyway, your bed is ready." The doorbell rang. "Goodness. Who could that be?" Margaret disappeared, leaving Melissa stuck in the wheelchair facing the back wall. She could only vaguely hear her mother as she opened the door. A few minutes passed, then she returned, with a tall man with long dark hair beside her. He had on a dark business suit, as well as a silver Celtic necklace. "Missy, this is Doctor MacArthur." "It's nice to meet you. Heard a lot about you." "I'm just a man looking for the truth." "Don't be so modest....You're a genius." He shrugged and brushed back his long black hair. "So, ye're the lucky woman? Nae many people can live through trauma to the psychic center, ye know," he said in a very thick Scottish accent. "But, ye're Irish. Too contrary t'die from a wee bullet." "Um-hmm." Melissa yawned. The car ride had been tiring, and those medicines made her so sleepy. "Time for you to take a nap, Missy." As she lay in bed, rapidly sinking into sleep, Melissa listened to her mom talk to Dr. MacArthur. A parapsychologist. Wait till Dana hears this one..... "Thank you so much for coming, Doctor." "No problem, Mrs. Scully. I do hope that I can help your daughter recover." Melissa drifted off to sleep. Dr. MacArthur finished his tea and watched as Mrs. Scully fell asleep. It must have been a hard time for them. And it would only get worse, according to Eithne. As usual, the Lady had refused to explain any further. It involved the Awakening, the old prophecies, and possibly that girl, Eithne's foundling protégé. What was her name? Samantha, that's what it was. "Why can't, just once, things go right for them?" Malcolm muttered. "And why do I hae to be Eithne's bluidy fix-it man?" He hadn't asked for this. If I had just gone to law school, like Pa wanted, I wouldn't be caught up in all this. Someone else would do it. Possibly someone less considerate of her feelings. Damned if I do, damned if I don't. It's all for the best. Aye, ye keep telling yuirself that, Malcolm.....All for the best..... - The End - -------------- Author's Notes: This is alternate universe stuff, folks, and any sequels can be considered a part of the same universe. Isn't this a much kinder, gentler universe anyway? :-) Feedback! I need feedback! I do have more plans for Pat and Dr. MacArthur, as well as the continuing saga of Cancer Man vs. Mulder and Scully (all of the Scullys), so any ideas are welcome. If you like this one, let me know and I'll post more. If not, tell me why not. And, of course, any miscellaneous suggestions are always welcome. ********************************************************************************** For those of you with access to America Online, don't forget the Melissa Scully/Melinda McGraw chat Tuesday nights in the x-files forum chat room, beginning at 9:00PM eastern. See ya next Time! Debbie (DGraml6525@aol.com), Paul (Kuusamo@aol.com) and Em (LilXPhile@aol.com)