Title: Life Cycles XVI: Holidays (3/3) by Susan Proto and Vickie Moseley part 9/14 The old warehouse was colder than he remembered it. The windows were broken and more than a few of the skylights had fallen through. Snow was in little piles on the floor, looking like sawdust in the faint yellow light. He stepped over the snow, and toward the wooden wall on the far side. His shoes echoed in the still air. The door opened with a loud creak. There wasn't much light in this room. High windows let a little of the yellow street lights illuminate the area. His arms clutched at the thin blankets he had brought with him from the back of his car. There he was. His prize. Not much to look at right now, but a prize none the less. An FBI agent. Top of the field. What many detectives aspired to become. But right now, the man who could bring killers to their knees was huddled around a single thin blanket, coughing and muttering in his sleep. He covered his eyes when he'd dragged him into the back of the car. And bound his feet and arms with duct tape. The one leg was obviously broken, so he was pretty certain that the agent was not going to make an escape any time soon. That was good. Just a little time. That's all he needed. Just a little time. When he looked down at the face, even around the blindfold, it made his heart skip a beat. So like him. So much like him. He missed him so much. But this wasn't his friend. This man was dangerous, terribly dangerous. Just as the last profiler had been worrisome, this man was uncanny in his abilities. In a short time, he was already on the right track. The last profiler was easy to distract, and had been almost humorous to neutralize. An ulcer. One would think people with ulcers would be more picky about their diets. But that had only lulled him into a false sense of security. He'd figured the new man would be easy to distract, too. But instead, he had to take more drastic actions. He had never meant to harm him. Just get him out of the way for a while. Just till he could come up with a good cover, go back to the way things used to be before his friend left him to fend for himself. He knelt down and tucked the thin blankets closer around him. They weren't much, but they would help, a little. He brought a bottle of water, too, and held the man's head while he tipped the spout top to his lips. The man drank greedily, but he'd only brought a small bottle. When half of it was gone, he dropped the man back to the floor. "Sorry, buddy," he whispered gruffly. "Gotta go now." The man, realizing first that he wasn't alone and then that he was about to be abandoned again, cried out. "Listen, don't go," Mulder pleaded. "We can talk. I can help you, I promise. I know people, good lawyers, good doctors. We'll help you. You don't want to kill me, you've already proven that point. Just let me go, and I can help you." He left the warehouse with the words still ringing in his ears. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The plan was set. The youngster was wired with both a microphone and a tracking device. There was no possible way they would lose sight of the teenager. Tommy was instructed to enter the same Teen Center Kevin Jenkins had attended and ask for the kind counseling services Kevin had participated in. Hopefully, the teen would attract the man that fit Mulder and Scully's profile. Hopefully, they were going to catch themselves a killer before he killed again. Hopefully, they would catch him in time to find Mulder safe and sound. "Are you ready, Tommy?" asked Skinner while they were in the large surveillance van. The teenager nodded in the affirmative and stepped out of the van. He walked toward the nondescript building which housed various teen activities. Tommy walked in and saw a large receptionist desk with a young, energetic woman standing behind it. "Hi there!" she greeted Tommy enthusiastically. "I don't think I've ever seen you here before. Is there something you're interested in?" Tommy shuffled his feet a little. Though he knew he was playing a role to a certain degree, he was also feeling self-conscious since the role he was playing was very true to life. His life. And the life of his dead friend. "Umm," he stumbled shyly over his words, "um, I heard there was somebody I could talk to about stuff." "Stuff?" "Yeah, stuff." Tommy scrutinized the woman a little more closely. He wasn't sure if she was busting his balls or not. "Yeah, stuff. You know. Things like about life and, well, you know. Like sex, and stuff." "Oh. You want our teen counseling service. Okay. Let's see who's on today. Okay, Counselor Al is on today. He's a really nice guy. Very understanding. Pretty cool about talking about sex and stuff. I'll buzz him, okay?" "Yeah, okay." Tommy waited for Counselor Al to make an appearance. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Meanwhile, the team in the surveillance van was listening closely. Counselor Al. No one had heard a last name, and that was what they were really hoping for. Something to possibly identify this guy. The receptionist had said she'd see who was on for today, which meant there was more than one counselor. Unfortunately, there was no way of knowing how many counselors there were at this point. All they could do was listen and wait patiently. Well, at the very least they could listen and wait. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tommy turned around in time to see an all too familiar figure walk toward him. "Oh shit," he muttered. "Oh shit." The surveillance team heard the boy utter the expletives but weren't sure why. "C'mon, Tommy, give us something to go on here," uttered Skinner through nervous, clenched teeth. "Damn it, talk to us, Son. What's going on?" "Tommy? Tommy, is that you?" asked the man Skinner and the team could only assume was Counselor Al. "Hi, Alan. How ya doing?" asked the boy in a tone indicative of familiarity. "I'm doing just fine, squirt! Just fine, but I gotta admit, I'm a little surprised to see you all the way downtown. What are you doing here, Tommy?" asked the counselor. "Well, I need to talk to someone about some stuff, and I didn't feel comfortable about talking with anyone from Addison, ya know? I mean, good news travels fast, and bad news travels even faster. I didn't want people in my business, Alan, that's all," explained the teen convincingly. "I see. Well, c'mon then. You know I won't be spreading the news around, right? Let's go on back to the counseling room, and we can talk. Catch me up on things too. How's your mom and sister doing, Tommy?" Skinner looked at Riichi and James. "Friend of the family?" he questioned. Riichi had been wondering what it was about the conversation that was niggling at him. There was something he was missing, and he just couldn't figure out what it was. The agents quieted down as they heard Tommy and the counselor begin to converse again. "Alana's doing okay at college. I kind of miss having her around, especially since __. Well, you know. She's still seeing Eric Barton, and I guess they plan on getting married some day when they graduate. "Mom's doing pretty well. She's got her good days and her bad days, but the bad days aren't even so bad anymore. She's started to go out with her friends again. You know, like a movie or shopping at the mall. Stuff like that," Tommy shared. "And what about you, Tommy? How are you doing, Son?" Counselor Al asked earnestly. Tommy shuddered when he heard him call him that. For some reason, when AD Skinner had referred to him like that earlier, it didn't hold the same sense of foreboding as it did just then when Alan called him 'Son'." "I'm doing okay, I guess. But I suppose I could be doing better, which is why I'm here. I guess," he replied in typical, insecure teen speak. "Well, then why don't we begin," Alan said. And so, Tommy shared the details of the carefully planned story the FBI agents and he had agreed on. Most of it was based upon Tommy's own history, as there would be less of chance of him tripping over his words. The one major difference was Tommy was going to change his family's reactions to him and his lifestyle. Now that his Dad was gone, Tommy was going to state his mother and sister were more and more uncomfortable with his sexual orientation, and he was feeling a little insecure. A little lost. Counselor Al listened with a sympathetic ear, and uttered an occasional encouraging word to continue. Finally, as an hour had passed by, Alan suggested they pick this conversation up over a bite to eat. "I'll give you a ride home, Tommy. It's not as if I don't remember the way back to your house," he said with a forced chuckle. "Eat?" the youngster repeated. "Tommy, you're fifteen years old. All fifteen year olds do is eat, right? C'mon, it's not like you don't know me,'' he urged. "Umm, sure, but I should call Mom, you know? I mean she was going to come and pick me up." "No problem. I have a cellular in my car. C'mon." Skinner, Obayashi, and Albright were listening to the exchange through the wire on Tommy Martin's chest. They became more and more uneasy with the turn of events. Something wasn't right. Who the hell was this guy? And as the two figures walked out the front door, they got their answer. "Holy shit!" cried out Riichi. "It's the CPD officer. The guy who interviewed Riley, the cab driver. The guy on the God damned Task Force!" "I don't like this," Skinner growled and Albright was quick to agree. "I gotta check something out," said Albright as he dialed on one of the cell phones inside the van. "Make sure we stay right on this bastard's ass, do you hear? Don't lose him. Don't you lose this sonofabitch!" Riichi pulled out of the spot shortly after Alan Tripp pulled out his parking space. As he did so, Albright clicked off his cell, having just completed his conversation with the records division. "I think we've got our UNSUB," he said. "What makes you say that?" Skinner asked. "Because Tommy Martin is going out for a bite with his Dad's former partner," Albright answered. "What?" Riichi asked as he tried to concentrate on following the car and on the dialogue inside their van. "George Martin's partner, at the time of his death, was none other than Alan Tripp." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Riichi was having an even harder time taking in what the SAC has just said. "If Tripp was Martin's partner, that would explain why he took Mulder. The resemblance is uncanny." "And it also explains how he connected with boys from various neighborhoods and backgrounds. We can go back now, get a court order to open up the records of the counseling center." "Chances are they don't keep full names and addresses, for confidentiality," Riichi was muttering. "But they can identify the pictures of the kids, and maybe someone would be willing to testify if Al Tripp had been in contact with the boys," Walter added. "Riichi, watch the intersection, he could turn left up there." Riichi was staring hard at the road ahead, but managing to keep two cars behind Tripp's vehicle. "Should we put out an All Points?" "It's a cop's car, he probably has a police band in there. He'd know we were on him in a minute," Walter said, dismissing the idea. "No, we're going to have to tail him and see what falls out." "What if he makes his move before then?" Albright asked, eyes focused as the two other men, on the drama unfolding in the blue sedan two cars ahead. "We take him out. We get right behind him and blow the tires. Whatever, we can't let anything happen to that boy, not after all he's been through," Walter hissed. The other men fell silent. They drove for several miles. Tripp turned off on to the Stevenson Expressway going south. "Not the way to Addison that I remember," Walter commented. "It's not," Albright agreed. "Speed up, Obayashi. It's easier to pull a fast one on an interstate." Riichi complied. "I don't think he sees the tail, sir," he said, drawing a deep breath and hoping he wasn't wrong. "Just keep out of his direct line of sight. He's a cop, but he's also in the know on this case. As long as the office doesn't know what's happening, he doesn't know either." "Do you think his partner is in on it?" Riichi asked. "Oh, shit, he's going for the exit!" With a little fast lane changing, and a few horns blared, Riichi made the exit as well. "Shit, shit, shit! He's made us for sure!" "Steady, Riichi, steady. Just keep on him. They're still just talking. Tommy doesn't even sound that nervous," Walter said as he listened to the conversation from the other car by way of the concealed microphone Tommy had worn. "I think they're heading for a park or something? Albright, is there a park near here?" "Forest Preserve is right up here. They could be heading there. It's pretty secluded, especially in the winter." "Which side of the road?" Riichi asked. "Both," Albright said with a grimace. "This road goes right smack through the middle of it." "Left, Obayashi! Left!" Walter shouted and put his hand up to keep from bumping Riichi as the car swerved left. "Slow down, try to stay back." Riichi looked at Walter like he'd just grown a second head, but complied with the order. The blue car slowed, in accordance with the speed limit of the Forest Preserve, and turned right into a heavily wooded area. By the time Riichi made the turn, the car was gone. "What the hell?" "There are little picnic areas all over this place. Each one is pretty secluded. Like I said, it's the perfect spot," Albright told them, shaking his head. "Wait, back up!" Riichi put the car into reverse and backed slowly down the main road. Albright scanned the trees, looking intensely to the left, Walter looked to the right. Finally, Walter called out. "They're over there. The car is over there," pointing down a narrow path that was little more than a service road. "They're on foot," Skinner said, but he was stating the obviously. Fortunately, the snow made it easy to follow the lonely tracks, one set of sneakers and the other a set of cheap wing tips, into the heavy woods beyond the little clearing. Skinner unclipped his gun and brought it forward, the two other men followed suit. "Careful," Skinner whispered. "We don't want this to go bad." The track through the woods crossed a little stream. Ahead, there was a heavy growth of underbrush that made it hard to see. As they approached, Skinner held up his hand. He could hear them talking. "Al, c'mon Al. You know how worried Mom gets when I'm out too late," Tommy was saying, and Skinner could tell the boy was now seriously frightened. "You're with me, Tommy. Everything will be OK. I don't know why George never said anything. But then, you probably didn't tell him, did you? You kept it a secret from him. That's wrong, you know. It only makes things worse." "Al, I'm cold. It's getting dark. I think we ought to go home, now," Tommy pleaded. Skinner winced at the fear in the boy's voice. They were so close. But so far, Tripp had done nothing wrong. It was such a fine line they were walking, waiting for the right 'threatening action' that did not result in harm. They needed a clean bust, not one that would be misinterpreted in the 'police friendly' Chicago Seventh Circuit courts. He closed his eyes and gripped is gun tighter in his fist. Just a few more minutes, just a few more. From his spot closer to the underbrush, Riichi could see the two figures. Tommy, with his back toward him, and Tripp, facing him, but looking only at Tommy. There was about three feet separating the two, Tripp kept talking and Tommy was instinctively taking small steps backward. The three men watching and listening and waiting in the underbrush held their breaths and prayed. "It's got to end, Tommy. You can't let it go on. It's no good. It's evil. You can see that, can't you?" Tommy wasn't even bothering with words now, he was just breathing heavily, glancing around him, wondering if anyone was going to be able to end his nightmare. "What are you looking for, Tommy? We're all alone. Just the two of us. All alone." Tripp advanced in the boy, his hand coming up to reveal a thin piece of wire, about two and a half feet long. Tommy was backing up and stumbled over a fallen limb, landing hard on his backside. Tripp was right on top of the boy. A single gun shot ripped through the darkening night. Tripp stumbled, looked confused. Blood seemed to magically appear to the right of buttons of his overcoat. His eyes looked in wonder at Tommy, and then he sank to his knees and fell forward. For several seconds, Skinner didn't dare move. He glanced at the two men with him, he was certain neither of them had fired the shot. His own gun was still unfired in his hand, but he checked it anyway. A sound of footsteps, approaching quickly through the brush, caused him to whirl around, gun aimed. "Put the gun down, Mr. Skinner. It's all over." Jeff Randal stepped out of the brush, lowering his weapon. He was talking to the AD, but hadn't taken his eyes off the man on the ground. "Randal! What the fuck do you think you were doing?" demanded Albright. Riichi had clambered over the vines and brambles and was now on his knees next to Tripp. "I couldn't let it go on. I figured it out last night. Then, I found out you'd talked to the Martins. I've been following Al since this morning. By the way, you've got a good driver, but you need to work on handling expressway tailing," Randal said, holstering his weapon. "Is he dead?" Riichi was feeling for a pulse. "No, he's alive. Barely. You hit him square in the chest," he accused. "Couldn't risk just wounding him. He would have gone for the kid. It wasn't his fault, not entirely. It was a compulsion with him. I know Al. He never would have hurt George's kid. Not if he'd been anywhere near his right mind." He drew in a deep breath, shaking his head sadly. "It was bad enough to lose George. The Captain's gonna scream bloody murder to lose both of them." Skinner could hear Obayashi calling 911 and suddenly remembered there was another witness to the drama. Tommy was standing, wide-eyed and shivering, just a few feet from wounded man. "He was gonna kill me," he was muttering. "Al used to play ball with me. He bought me my first 'Spawn' comic when my Mom said I should be reading 'real books' and not comics." Tears were flowing down his face and Skinner took off his coat and wrapped it around the boy. "It's all right, Tommy. It's going to be all right. I'll call your Mom, tell her that you're all right. Then we'll take you home." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the reality of the situation came crashing home to Walter Skinner. Their best hope of finding his son-in-law was now unconscious, and might never wake up. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ end of part 9 Life Cycles XVI: Holidays by Vickie Moseley & Susan Proto Disclaimers in Part 1 Part 10/14 Mulder looked forlornly out of the broken, basement window and saw what he believed were street lights in the distance. They reminded him of the lights he was supposed to be kindling with his family. *So much for my miracle,* he thought to himself. "Oy, Fox, you don't think there's any more miracles left?" "Nana," he croaked. "I want to go home. I want to share the story of the miracle of Hanukkah, but I can't. Nana, help me. I can't do this anymore." "Fox, you can. You must!" she replied adamently. "You have to make the miracle happen, like they do in the days of the Maccabees." "I don't think I need eight days worth of oil, Nana," he replied c ynically. "So, you think that's the great miracle Jews celebrate at this time of year?" asked Nana. "Isn't it?" asked a contrite Mulder. "The oil lasted seven more days then it was supposed to. That was a miracle." "Yes, well, sweetheart, I have it on good authority that particular miracle is more like a little fairy tale that's been exaggerated as it's been passed down through the ages. The oil is more of a symbol of the real miracle." "What real miracle, Nana? What are you talking about?" Mulder asked confused. "The miracle of overcoming tremendous odds. Sweetheart, the Maccabees should never have even _considered _ challenging Antiochus, much less actually fighting him. They were a small, inexperienced group; not even big enough to be considered an army. But they believed in themselves and their right to believe in their God. They believed in themselves, Fox, and for that, they won. That was the miracle. "Shayner boychikel," Nana continued gently, "you must create your own Hanukkah miracle. You must believe in yourself. Believe you can survive this, and you will. God will hear your prayers, Fox." Fox felt something inside him snap. He was in pain, and he was scared, and though it never his intent to hurt his Nana, he felt driven to question her unshakable belief in God. "Like He heard my prayers when Sam was taken? Like He heard them when my father beat me to a pulp because he blamed me for something that was more than likely his doing? Like He heard my prayers when my mother chose to not love me, because I was the one supposed to be taken?" he said, his face contorted in anger and frustration. "But you didn't believe then with the same strength and conviction you do now, Foxila. Trust yourself. Trust in yourself and in your beliefs." Mulder felt his shoulders suddenly sag. He was tired. He was exhausted, and the lights in the distance seemed to move further and further away. "I don't know if I can, Nana. I'm so tired, and everything hurts so much." Mulder paused for a moment and then took as deep a breath as he dared, because the pain was becoming more and more unbearable as each hour passed. "Nana?" he cried out. "Nana, I'm scared. I'm scared my Scully can't find me. Why can't she find me?" "She's coming, shayner aynekel. She's coming. Be strong. Have faith, and believe in her; believe in yourself," Nana said as her image shimmered into nothingness. "Nana, I don't know if I can make a miracle," he whispered in the darkness. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She kept hearing odd sounds. She wondered if these sounds could be a clue. A clue as to where this bastard was holding her now very hurt, very ill grandson. "Fox?" she called out gently so as not to startle him. "Mmmmm," he groaned. He was having difficulty staying conscious at this point. He was running a high fever now, and he was seriously dehydrated. His throat felt like it was made of sandpaper, and his head pounded like a jackhammer on high speed. It was his leg, however, that was causing him the most pain at this point. It was definitely broken; even Mulder realized that, and it would definitely need surgery to put it all back together again. He heard someone calling him, but he didn't want to answer. It took way too much energy to respond to voices now. "Foxila? You hear me, shayner boychik?" she called out a little more forcefully. Nana. His nana was here again and as much as Mulder knew she wanted to help, he realized she couldn't. If she could, she would have brought his Scully to him by now. He knew it was hopeless; he knew if Scully ever did find him, it would be too late. *I'm sorry, Scully,* he thought helplessly. *I'm sorry I couldn't hang on for you and Adam. And for Dawn,* he lamented sadly for the baby he'd never really gotten a chance to know. He felt all of his strength being sapped from him. He'd never given up before. During all those times in the past when he'd found himself in dire straits, he'd never once given up that Scully wouldn't find him. But now, he wasn't sure he could hold on any longer. He was so tired, and everything hurt so much. He just wanted to go into a deep, deep sleep, away from all of the pain. "Fox, you've got to help me figure out where we are, sweet boy. Listen to me! Please aynekel , wake up! Wake up for Nana, and help me figure out where we are so I can tell them. Help me, Fox," Nana pleaded. Through much effort, Mulder opened his eyes. She wasn't going to let him sleep. "Nana, sleep," he moaned. "NO! Fox, no more sleeping for now! We have to figure out where we are. You need to get out of here so you can celebrate Hanukkah with Adam and Dawn! Don't you remember?" she asked in desperation. "Hanukkah? Candles. I was supposed to light the candles with Adam. I missed it, didn't I?" he asked sadly. "No, no dear man, you didn't miss it. You still have time, I swear to you! But we have to figure out where this dark place is, so I can tell them," she said quickly. "Nana?" he asked anxiously. "Where's my book?" "Book?" "Oh, no! I lost the book," he whimpered, both for his loss and his pain. "What book, shayner aynekel?" "My Hanukkah book. I was going to read the prayers with Adam, and we were going to play the games. But it's gone," he grieved, and closed his eyes in mourning. Nana was becoming desperate. Her grandson was giving up on life, and she needed to show him he still had a chance. But she needed his help to give him that chance. For whatever reason, she couldn't go but from Adam's presence to Mulder's presence. No one else could see her during this time in the Mulders' lives. She had to show Fox he had the faith to keep going, but how? Then she saw her answer. In the corner of the darkness, laying next to the coat Mulder arrived in, was a patch of blue. Nana used all of her energy to pick it up and carry it over to where Mulder laid with his leg misaligned, and his body ravaged with fever. "Look, Fox. Look what I found," she cajoled as she placed the blue paperback book in his hands. "Oh, Nana, you found it. You found Adam's book. Thank you, Nana. You found my Hanukkah," he said with genuine gratitude. "Now we have to figure out where we are so you can share it with your beauty-ful veib, zun, and tochter," she responded with renewed vigor. "Help me, Foxila, help me understand what I am seeing; what I am hearing," she said. "I don't know, Nana. It's hard for me to hear anything," he said coughing as if he needed to emphasize just how congested he was. "My head is pounding so much, and my chest hurts. It's hard to breathe, Nana. It's really harder to breathe now," he confessed. "Oy, I know mine grandson. I know. But listen, do you hear that? It's a kind of pounding. Up and down, up and down, up and down! Do you hear that?" she asked excitedly. When she looked at her grandson, though, her smile turned upside down. The fever and the pain was becoming too much for him. She saw he'd clutched the Hanukkah book to his heart before he passed out. Her poor Fox. Nana realized she would have to be the detective in the family. She would have to look around and listen ever so carefully, and then report her findings to the one person who could see her. Adam. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was a different room, and obviously not the new house the Mulders had only moved into three months or so ago. No, this was very definitely a different room, and in fact, Nana could sense it was in a different place. It didn't take nearly as much effort to find Adam here. "Hi, Nana. I told Mommy we should come to Chicago, and she listened to me. Well, to us. I told her you told us to come, and we did. Did you see Daddy today?" asked a quizzical Adam. "Yes, Adam, yes I saw your daddy today." "Is he coming home now?" asked Adam. "No, not yet, but soon. Listen sweet boychikel, I need you to listen to me carefully. So, so carefully. Can you do that for me ur-aynekel? If we want to help your daddy, then you have to listen to what I have to say, so you can tell your mommy. Do you understand?" When the child nodded, Nana could not help but gaze in amazement at the similarities between this small wonder and her own little Fox when he was Adam's age. The serious expression Adam now wore was identical the one Fox wore on so many occasions. "Good. Now I'm going to tell you what I saw and what I heard in this place where your Daddy is. It is the clues I found, yes? And we are the detectives to help find your daddy, no?" Adam nodded enthusiastically and with a smile. He could be a detective; no, he was going to be an FBI agent just like his mommy and daddy. He was going to help his mommy find Daddy. "Tell me what you see'd, Nana?" he directed, oh so seriously again. "Well, it was so dark down there. No light, and so it was very, very hard to see anything very clearly, you know? So I did not see everything, but I did see tables. Many, many folding tables and chairs too. It was dusty down there, like no one uses it much. "I wish I saw more, but it was too dark. I did see some lights from the window, but they were cracked and it was impossible to see what the lights were coming from. "But I also heard things. It was hard to understand these sounds, because they were muffled. I hear them coming from up above, like a pounding. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Over and over and then suddenly it would become very, very fast, and then it would be silent. Then, I'd hear voices raised. I couldn't tell if they were happy or angry. What is that, do you think?" asked Nana. "I don't know, Nana, but I'll ask Mommy. You wanna come with me? She's plugged into Dawnie again," he offered with only the slightest hint of resentment. Adam was an FBI agent now, and he couldn't allow a little thing like Mommy needing to feed Dawn get in his way of saving Daddy. "I don't know if I can, ur-aynekel. Maybe, if I follow you, I can." And Nana did just that, and for whatever reason, Scully could not see Nana, but Nana could see Dana. And her great grand-daughter, Dawn. "Oy, mine beauty-ful Dawn. Such beauty-ful children my Fox any your mommy make, Adam!" she cried out in sheer joy. "Thank you, Nana," Adam said. Scully practically jumped out of her chair. "What did you say, Adam?" "I said thank you to Nana, 'cause she says you and Daddy make 'beauty-ful' babies," he said as he mimicked his great-grandmother's accent. Nana looked around desperately, for she knew Nana was indeed present simply by the way Adam pronounced the word 'beautiful.' Only Nana ever said it as 'beauty-ful.' "Nana? Please, tell me where Fox is," Dana pleaded. "Adam," Nana responded, "tell your Mommy what I told you. Tell her quickly." "Mommy, Nana was a detective and she said I should be a detective too, but I wanna be a FBI agent like you and Daddy, 'kay?" Scully nodded her head furiously and urged her son to continue. "Sweetheart, what else did Nana say?" Dana coaxed, as she no longer questioned why Nana could only communicate through Adam. She was grateful for small favors at this point. "Oh, she said she looked all around, but it was really dark and hard to see stuff, but she saw lots of tables and chairs and it was very, very, dusty," Adam reported all the while looking at Nana for confirmation that he was accurate. "What else, Adam? What else did Nana tell you?" asked Scully anxiously. She had a feeling Nana was going to help her save Mulder's life yet again. She just wished Adam could hurry up a little bit. "Oh, well Nana said she could see some lights from the window, but the windows were cracked and so it was too hard to look out a broken window." "Very good, sweetheart," Scully said as she switched Dawn to the other side to finish feeding. "Did Nana say anything else?" "Yup," he agreed quickly, but when he neglected to continue, Scully became slightly agitated. "Adam! Hurry up! Please!" Dana shouted,which not only upset Adam, but Dawn as well. the baby started crying and Adam backed up, wide eyed, staring at his mother. "Oh, Adam, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be cross with you. You are being a wonderful FBI agent, and Mommy is too impatient. Now, please, tell me what else Nana saw," she said contritely as she urged Dawn to latch back on to finish feeding. "Not 'sawed', Mommy. _Heard_!" he corrected. "Oh, well what did Nana hear?" she asked and listened to his recital of Nana's description of the pounding sounds in both a rhythmical staccato and rapid fire successions. He also remembered to tell about the voices getting louder, though he said Nana wasn't sure if they were happy or angry voices. When Adam had finished, Scully remained very quiet. She knew the perpetrator was a cop. It could have been in a firing range, the pounding sounds being the reverberations of guns being fired. It could have been in music or dance studio. It could have been in the basement of a school gymnasium. A gym. A game. Basketball. Nana heard a basketball game. Ohmigod. He's been right under our noses all this time. Where would Alan Tripp take him? Where he could be certain of having access to him. Oh God, she had to contact Walter. She had to get to him. She had to get to Mulder. "Adam," she said as calmly as she could, "go knock on the door to your Gam-ma's room. I need her to come here right now." "Did we do it, Mommy?" the little boy asked excitedly. "Did we help you figure out where Daddy is?" "I think so, Adam. Tell your Nana thank you for me, okay? Tell her I love her very much, and I wish I could give her a great big hug and a kiss." "She can hear you, Mommy," he responded as he ran to knock on the second bedroom in the hotel suite. Maggie opened the door and saw the excited look in Adam's eyes. "What is it, sweetheart?" "Nana was a good detective an' I was a good FBI agent and Mommy's gonna rescue Daddy, so we needs you to be here to watch Dawnie," explained Adam. "Umm, not just Dawnie, big guy," warned Scully. "But Mommy, I'm a FBI agent! I gotta rescue Daddy too," he whined slightly. "Oh, but you did your job, Little G-Man, and now it's time for backup," she replied earnestly as she knelt down and gave him a hug. "You and Nana did really well, Adam. I am so proud of you! And Daddy is going to be so proud of you too." Scully stood up and saw the questioning look in her mother's face. She held up her hand to Maggie as if to say 'hold on one minute' and picked up the phone to dial Skinner's cellular. "Skinner." "Where are you?" Scully asked. "Just about to leave the Forest Preserve. We're just waiting for the ambulance to leave with the perp. He was shot by his partner, Scully. I'm sorry. The man's unconscious, and I don't know if he'll regain consciousness in time to tell us where Mulder is," Skinner recounted pessimistically. "It doesn't matter," she replied. "What?" "I'm going to meet you back at the Teen Center. Call for an ambulance to meet us there. Hurry!" Scully practically ordered. "The Teen Center? Scully we were there earlier. What are you talking about?" the AD asked in confusion. "Walter, he's been right under our noses. I think_, no, I _KNOW_ he's in the Teen Center. I would guess the basement. I should be there in about ten minutes. Call for an ambulance, now, Sir." Walter knew Dana meant business when she reverted back to calling him, 'Sir,' so he wisely chose the only course of action he could take. He listened and did as he was told. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ end of part 10 Life Cycles: Holidays by Susan Proto and Vickie Moseley Part 11/14 All the way to the door of the hotel suite, Adam tugged on Dana's shirt tail. "Mommy, please, I'm a agent, too. Let me go, too," he pleaded. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry," she said, turning around and stooping down to be eye to eye with her son. The thought flashed through her mind that it wouldn't be too long before he'd be stooping down to see eye to eye with her. She brushed the thought aside as she looked into his pleading face. So much like her Fox . . . "Adam, I have to ask you to do something that is very, very difficult. It's really hard, but I know you can do it. Will you be a good agent, and accept this assignment?" She knew she might be losing him with the 'jargon', but she also knew her son was more 'sponge' than boy and understood far more than they gave him credit for. He looked at her seriously, and nodded, slowly. "I 'cept it, Mommy. Just like you 'cept what Gam-pa tells you to do at work." She smiled. He did understand. "Exactly. Just like Daddy and I accept assignments from Gam-pa at work. But this is a tough assignment, Adam. Are you sure you're up for it?" Again, the confident nod. "Yup, Mommy. I can do it." "OK. I want you to stay and guard Grandma and Dawnie. I need you to set up surveillance, that means you'll be waiting by the phone. And as soon as I call, you have to help Grandma get Dawn ready and come to meet me." "And Daddy?" the little boy asked hopefully. Dana swallowed past the rock that had suddenly developed in her throat. "Yes, Agent Adam. Meet me and Daddy." "You'll be at the hospital, right? Like after Dawnie was born?" Dana hated the fact that Adam was that much aware of the situation. "I heard you tell Gam-pa to get a 'bambulance'. That's for Daddy, right? Nana says he's sick, Mommy. He needs to go to the hospital. But Gam-ma and Dawnie and me can go there and see him, can't we?" "That is exactly what you can do, Adam. Now, do you still accept your assignment?" Adam beamed and stood up straight and tall. "I 'cept it!" He started to turn, then stopped and grabbed her hand again. "Mommy, do you and Daddy salute Gam-pa when you 'cept 'signments? Like they do on TV?" The humor of the situation was not lost on Dana. She couldn't stop the giggle of laughter that caught her son by surprise. "Only when your Daddy is in a _very_ dangerous mood, Sweetheart. Now, Mommy has to go. You get set up by the phone and wait for my call, all right?" Her cell phone was burning in her ear as she drove. She'd called the Bureau office to find the location and directions to the Teen Center. Then she'd called Walter back, to make certain someone had called for a search warrant for the premises, assuming there might be some resistance. And finally, she'd called back to the office, to double check on the arrangements for the warrant. "Now, I know why I let you drive all the time, Mulder. It's too damned hard to dial and drive at the same time," she said to the empty car interior as she sped toward the Teen Center, located near the University of Chicago in the Hyde Park area of Chicago. Traffic was with her and she arrived just as Skinner, Riichi and Albright pulled up. Walter got out of the car, waving a document in his hands. "I believe you were concerned about this, Agent Scully," he said with a wry smile. Dana allowed a sheepish grin to cross her face. "Just having a hard time delegating, sir. Uh, thank you for picking that up, by the way." "Not a problem, and good thinking. Now, where the hell do we start looking?" Dana surveyed the building. It was set in a park, one of the many that were built in the city for the 1892 and later the 1933 World's Fairs. The building was definitely from the thirties and displayed a beautiful frieze design in the guttering and the tracings of Frank Lloyd Wright in the general form of it's single story. "Where's the basement?" she asked. The building didn't seem to sport any windows under the first floor. It was built on cinder block. "He's in a basement?" Skinner asked as the foursome walked toward the doors. "That's what Nana said. She couldn't see out the broken windows," Dana said with a shake of her head. "Wait a minute," Riichi interrupted. "Did you just say 'Nana'? As in Mulder's grandmother 'Nana'?" Dana nodded. Riichi turned a little paler. "Shit," he muttered and hurried up his steps to pull open the door. "How would Mulder's grandmother know where he was being kept?" Albright asked, confused. "It's a long story and one that takes a whole lot of brandy to understand," Walter explained. "For now, let's just say it's as close to hard surveillance as we can get." There was a young woman at the reception desk, reading the latest John Grisham paperback. She looked up at the approaching agents. "May I help you?" she asked expertly. "Yes," said Dana, taking the lead. None of the three men with her even thought to upstage her. This was very much her show. "I am Special Agent Scully, this is Assistant Director Skinner, Agents Albright and Obayashi from the FBI. We have a warrant to search the premises. We have reason to believe that a federal agent is being held against his will somewhere in this building. If you would accompany us and provide us with the appropriate keys for locked rooms?" The young woman blanched and nodded nervously. "Uh, can I call Lenny? He's the building supervisor?" Dana sighed. She should have thought of that. "Yes, of course. But please, we are in a hurry. We have reason to believe the agent in question is injured and requires medical treatment." As if to underscore her statement, sirens could be heard pulling up the road to the Center. "Lenny!" the young woman screamed at the top of her lungs. "Lenny, get out here, NOW!" Then, after a second, she blushed and added "Please." A tall, aging black man with a disgruntled expression came out of one of the offices. "Teresa, you don't have to yell," he huffed. "We have an intercom system, ya know," he said, pointing to the phone. Then he noticed the crowd in front of the desk. "Can I help you folks?" Dana repeated her spiel and Lenny, for his part, got as wide eyed as young Teresa. "Sure, sure, I'll help ya. Just tell me where to go? I can have you check all the offices, and of course, there's the video room and the conference room down the hall . . ." "We need to see the basement," Dana said, following after Lenny with the three men trailing behind her. Lenny pulled up short. "Well, that's gonna be a problem." He turned around and shook his head. "This building don't have a basement. It was built on a crawl space." Dana thought hard to what Adam had told her. Nana had told him basement. She doubted that Adam would have forgotten a phrase like 'crawl space'. He would have thought that was funny. But would Nana, sweet, innocent Eastern European Nana, know the difference between a crawl space and a basement? Then, Dana remembered the other part of the puzzle. "It's under the gym." Lenny bit his upper lip in consternation. "Well, then we _really_ got problems. We definitely don't have a gym. Sorry. You must have the wrong building," he said sadly. "No, no, that's not possible," Dana said, breathlessly and taking steps backward until she bumped right into her father-in-law. "No, Nana wouldn't lie. He's here, he has to be here," she said, turning and searching Walter's face. "He's here, Walter, he's here." Regardless of protocol, Walter took his daughter-in-law into a hug, holding her shaking body against his. "I know we wanted him to be, Dana. But it looks like this isn't the place. We just have to keep looking." He looked over to Albright and Obayashi, who were wearing matching disconcerted looks. Everyone understood just how impossible that task was going to be. "Come on. Let's go outside that think this through." They were halfway down the hall when Lenny let out a whistle. "Hey! Did you say it was a basement under a gym you're looking for?" he asked, running to catch up with the group. Walter didn't trust his voice to speak, so he just nodded. Lenny continued, "Well, we have an arrangement with the University. We let their students use our video room and they let our kids use one of their old gyms. It's just up the road. C'mere. You can see it through the trees." He led them outside and pointed to the south. Sure enough, there was a red brick building, with high windows and just visible low to the ground windows, just about a city block's distance away. Lenny was still talking. "The University don't use it much these days. They built a new 'sports complex' a couple of years ago. Most of the kids goin' there are all 'eggheads' anyway," he chucked. "Not like when they were the 'monsters of the midway'." "I thought that was the Bears," Obayashi muttered, but shook himself back from such mental wanderings. "I'll go send the ambulance over there. I'll meet you three over there." He was yelling at their backs, since Dana, Skinner and Albright had already broken out into a run across the frozen park. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mulder didn't think he'd ever been as cold in his life. He remembered shivering under the lights of an abandoned submarine, dying of hypothermia, and still, he hadn't been as cold. He tried to draw in a breath, but it caught in his throat and his chest shuddered into a coughing spasm. Dana, his mind screamed. He wished he could say her name aloud, as if that mere action would bring her to him. He knew Nana was trying, but for a close to hundred year old ghost, Nana had some limitations. Few, but some. He thought for a moment of his last memory of his home and family. Dana, standing at the door, holding back tears that he knew would be shed the moment his back was turned and the door was shut behind him. Adam, running a Match box car along the wooden dining room floor. Baby Dawn in her bouncy seat, her fist tucked close to her mouth, sucking on the knuckle of her baby thumb for all it was worth and drooling down onto her Winnie the Pooh bib. He loved them so much. He was going to miss them so much. *Nana, do you miss people when you get to heaven,* he thought. "No, mine Foxila. It is so beauty-ful there. But you can't go to the afterlife, the Olam, right now. You have a son to raise and a daughter to walk down the aisle and give to another man someday. You have a veib to love and more little ones to give her, maybe, too, nu? You have much work to do here on earth. You aren't ready for Olam, yet." I'm so tired, Nana. I want to raise Adam. I don't want to give Dawn away to anyone, but I'll let her love someone some day. And yes, I want to love Dana. I want to live with Dana until we're both too old to walk, and we can move to Florida or California, and the kids can bring their kids to visit us and their kids' kids. I want that, Nana. I want that. "Then hold on, Fox. They are on their way. Just hold on a little longer." He could feel her hand on his forehead as he drifted off to sleep. "I have to hold on," he whispered, and his breath made little clouds in the freezing air. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dana made it to the door of the massive brick building ahead of the others. She grabbed at the handle and pulled at it violently. It held firm. "Damn it!" she wailed and pounded on the heavy oak doors. "We forgot to get the keys from Lenny!" "Step aside, Agent Scully," Albright said and pulled a small device out of his trenchcoat pocket. At Dana's amazed look, he smiled. "What? You thought _you_ were the only field agent to carry one of these babies?" He deftly handled the lockpick and the door opened with ease before them. "The basement. Where the hell are the stairs?" Dana cried out, as Albright stopped long enough to find the light switch and send the building into bright illumination. "Over there," Riichi, who had just joined them, pointed to the old marble steps with their wooden and wrought iron bannister. They ran quickly to them and took the stairs two at a time. Dana reached the bottom just after Walter. There was another door and yet another lock, but this was a padlock, and looked new. He took out a latex glove to shield the lock and Albright used his magic lockpick yet again. "Keep that for evidence. I'm sure we'll find Tripp's prints on it," Skinner said over his shoulder and Riichi quickly complied. Dana had already taken out a flashlight. Albright found a light switch near the door, but it was broken. He took out his own flashlight and followed Dana into the darkness. The room was large and very cold. The windows that lined the low ceiling were broken out, only the ornamental ironwork on the outside of the building keeping animal life and vagrants out of the basement. Dana could easily understand why Nana would have had a hard time seeing out the windows. She used her light to scan the floor. The room was empty. Her heart sank. "Not again," she muttered and felt a warm and familiar presence come up behind her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Just relax, Scully. Keep your head. We'll find him." "Hey," Riichi said suddenly, standing toward the middle of the room. "There's another room over there." He flashed his light over to a far wall. The wall wasn't made of brick, as was the rest of the basement, but was wooden. "The boiler room, I'll bet," Albright said, taking strides to reach the door. Once again, the lockpick was required and the old wooden door swung open on rusty hinges. Albright was in the room in one step and flashed his light around. "Holy Mother," he said loudly. "Obayashi, get those paramedics down here. Fast!" Dana pushed past him. She ran over to the huddled mass on the floor. Peeling back three thread bare woolen blankets, she found him. She knew he was still alive, she could hear his labored breathing all the way from the door. She touched his temple and winced at the heat coming from his body. A quick search down his form and she took in the way he was clutching his stomach and the misalignment of his leg. "Oh, Mulder," she sighed. "Can't you do anything halfway?" His pale features stirred at the sound of her voice. "Da . . ." He stopped only because of the coughs that wracked his body. She helped him up so that he didn't choke on the phlegm in his throat. "Easy, Fox. Easy. Well, initial triage points to advanced case of pneumonia, definite broken leg . . . possible internal injuries. You're on your way to the hospital again, Sweetheart. Good thing I brought my wallet with our insurance card, isn't it?" Her words were light, but were there only to hide her deep concern. She didn't like the blue color to his lips, nor did she like the thready pulse she found at his neck. She would have committed high treason for a blood pressure cuff at that moment. Fortunately, she didn't have to. The paramedics were heard banging down the stairs long before they actually arrived. Albright and Skinner moved out of their way to give them room, but Dana stayed right where she was. "I'm a medical doctor. I'm also his next of kin. He has breathing difficulties, possible internal injuries. Severely dehydrated, start saline full out. Broken leg needs to splinted for transport." The EMTs looked at her with barely concealed disdain, but followed her orders. As they hooked the IV and splinted the leg, one of their members contacted base. "We're closest to UCMC," the young man said. "ETA just under ten minutes." He looked up at Scully. "We're taking your 'next of kin' to the University of Chicago Medical Center. It's just five blocks up the street. Go to the emergency entrance, they'll direct you to admissions." Dana caught him by the sleeve. "No, I'm going with you," she stated flatly. He rolled his eyes and nodded to his companions to go on up without him. "Look, lady, we don't have time for this. Your friend doesn't have time for this. We do not take passengers. End of sentence." "You're about to make an exception," she growled and pulled back her coat enough to reveal her service weapon. Skinner saw that as the moment to intervene. "She's already told you she's a trained medical doctor. I would think you would want her along for the ride. Just in case." He flipped his badge in the man's face. "The patient is an FBI agent who has been abducted and injured in the line of duty. He requires a guard at all times. I'm assigning _her_ to the case," he said, pointing to Scully. She beamed her gratefulness. The EMT sighed. "OK, but you stay to the side and do _not_ get in our way," he told her fiercely. In seconds they were all loaded in the ambulance and on the way. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ end part 11 Life Cycles XVI: Holidays by Vickie Moseley & Susan Proto Disclaimers in Part 1 Part 12/14 Maggie held onto Adam's hand tightly with one hand while she wheeled the baby's stroller with the other through the hospital corridor. She felt her purse and the diaper bag slowly falling off of her shoulder, but she didn't slow up her pace. When she finally saw the solitary figure, she knew she'd found the right area. Now, where was her daughter? "Walter?" she called out softly. He looked up at her with sad, tired eyes. "Maggie," he whispered. He didn't move; he simply stood with his shoulders slumped over, defeated. "Walter, what is it? Where's Dana? How is Fox?" she asked in quick, rapid fire succession. "I don't know if we were quick enough, Maggie," he answered in reply to the first question. "She's in the emergency trauma room with him. Fox became very upset when they'd asked her to leave, so the doctors told her she could stay if she let them do their job," he replied to the second question, and to the third he said, "He's not in good shape, Maggie." Walter dropped his head momentarily and in his line of vision was a brown haired, hazel eyed face with an expression that held a million questions. Walter had to look away. He couldn't look at his grandson, for fear all of the child's hope would be washed away by his grandfather's feelings of helplessness. Maggie sensed this and realized her husband hadn't had enough time to assimilate everything that had happened. He needed time to assuage the feelings of fear, guilt, and frustration he now felt. "Adam," Maggie called gently, " I need you to help me and Gam-pa. Would you do that for me, Sweetheart?" Maggie knew the little boy would do anything for Walter, and so she said, softly , "I need you to watch your baby sister over there for a little bit. Mommy is in with Daddy in the examination room, and I need to be able to talk grown-up talk with Gam-pa for a little while." "Gam-pa's worried that Daddy's gonna die, isn't he," the little boy said sadly. Maggie wanted so desperately to tell her grandchild that he should erase that ridiculous notion right out of his head, but having seen Walter's expression, she knew they would both know she was lying. "Your Gam-pa is worried because Daddy is very sick right now, but we're all going to pray for him, Adam. You can do that while you watch Baby Dawn. Would you do that for your Daddy? Would you do that now, for Gam-pa and me?" Adam nodded solemnly and walked over to the chairs on the other side of the room, while Maggie wheeled the stroller over near the young boy. She knelt down before her grandson and said, "If she loses her pacifier, you help her find it, okay?" The child agreed, and Maggie kissed him gently on the cheek. "You are a good big brother, and you are a good grandson. Thank-you, Adam." She hugged him once more and was grateful for the child's embrace in return. Maggie then stood up and turned her attention to the other man in her life who needed immediate attention. She walked over to him quickly and wrapped her arms around his waist. Maggie pulled him toward her and she murmured, "He'll fight this, Walter. He has so much to live for; he'll fight this harder than anything he's ever fought for." "He was right under our noses the whole time, Maggie," Walter choked out. "The whole time. Oh God, it was a fucking cop who did this to him. Someone we're supposed to trust, damn it!" he lashed out angrily as he pulled away from her. "Maggie, when I saw that sonofabitch laying there on the ground, bleeding, all I could think of was he deserved it. He deserved to be shot for all of the horrific things he'd done. But then I remembered he was our one link to Mulder, and I wanted to shoot the man who'd fired the gun. "I was so scared this sonofabitch was going to die before he told us where Mulder was. I didn't give a flying fuck what happened to him after he told us Mulder's location, but I was frightened to death that his heart would stop before he could tell us. "I would have beaten it out of him, Maggie. As God is my witness, I would have broken ever rule of protocol in the book to make that worthless piece of shit tell me where our son was," Walter said harshly. "God, Maggie, I wanted to kill the bastard myself. If we couldn't find Mulder because of that asshole, I would have _____." "__ But you did find him. You and Dana and the rest of your agents did their job and you found him. You did your job the best way you knew how to do. Walter Skinner, don't you dare berate yourself because you're not omnipotent! You couldn't have known where that maniac was holding him," Maggie admonished gently. "Dana knew. Dana knew where this mad man was holding Mulder," Walter retorted. "Apparently, she had a little help, my dear," replied Maggie, cracking a slight smile for the first time since she'd arrived in the hospital. "Mmmm-hmmm," he murmured in reply, and for the first time he allowed a small smile to play on his lips. "A little old great-grandma played detective and informed one five year old honorary FBI agent some clues about where his daddy was being held. When Adam told Dana that Nana had heard rhythmical pounding on the ceiling and then cheers, Dana thanked her lucky stars that Mulder had turned her into something of a basketball junkie." Maggie looked at him with surprise. "I guess she told you all about it." He nodded. "When we first arrived at the hospital, they were able to do a preliminary work up on him while he was still out cold, so Dana had the chance to fill me in then. You should have seen the expressions on the other agents when she _first_ mentioned Nana's role in this whole rescue mission." "I can only imagine," Maggie chuckled. "It's not that long ago that I don't remember my own reaction to the dear woman." She paused for a moment and noticed Walter's serious expression reappear. "Walter, Dana was able to put two and two together and helped you all to figure out where Fox was being held ," Maggie concluded. "I don't know if she could have figured it out without Nana's help, but it doesn't matter. All that matters now is Fox _was_ found, and he's being taken care of," Maggie insisted. "I just hope we weren't too late," whispered an anguished Walter. At that point, Riichi Obayashi walked through the doors of the waiting room. He saw Adam sitting quietly in the plastic chair and bent down to give him a quick kiss hello. "Hey big boy! How ya doing?" he asked. "Hi, Uncle Riichi. I helped Mommy find my daddy, but Gam-pa says Daddy is too sick. I think Gam-pa is 'fraid my daddy's going to die," confessed Adam. Riichi was horrified with the calmness this small child was able to discuss his own father's possible demise. But Riichi then realized how many times in this child's young life Mulder was so close to dying. Too many times for a five year old to have to live through. Too many times for a friend and colleague to have to live through too. "I know the doctors are doing everything they can to help your daddy, Adam. Keep praying for him, okay?" Riichi tenderly kissed the child on the of his head and then paused to gaze at the infant girl sleeping in the stroller. "She's so tiny, isn't she?" Riichi murmured aloud. "Yeah, but I'm watching her, Uncle Riichi, so you can go talk grownup talk with Gam-ma and Gam-pa," Adam replied so seriously. "And you're doing a fine job, Adam. Keep up the good work." Riichi smiled at the child and walked toward the AD and his wife. He nodded to both of them and then asked, "Is there any word?" "No, not yet. Dana is still in the trauma room with him, I think. If there's any word, they'll come out and tell us, right?" Walter asked, suddenly anxious. "What the hell is taking them so long?" "Albright is just about finished helping with the processing of Tripp. He's going into surgery very shortly, and then the SAC will meet us here. Sir, we're not sure how to go about dealing with his partner, Randal, yet. I mean, it's almost as if he were an accessory," Riichi commented. "I don't think we have a legitimate case in that direction," Skinner replied in a more controlled tone as he spoke in the role of AD rather than father-in-law. "The man apparently didn't have an active role in the taking of the adolescent boys, and he certainly didn't have a clue about Tripp's role in Mulder's abduction. That was obvious when we interviewed him back in the forest." "Okay, but it seems to me this guy should have had a better handle on what his partner was up to," Riichi said bitterly. "Riichi, we can't keep our eyes on our partners for twenty-four hours a day, now can we?" the AD asked gently, but with a knowing tone. Obayashi looked at Skinner and realized exactly where the AD was going with that comment. He suddenly felt like the biggest loser. If only _he'd_ been able to do what had been expected of him and keep an eye on his assigned partner, he wouldn't have to see a five year old child and his infant sister sitting in a waiting room wondering if their daddy was going to die. Both Maggie and Walter noticed the immediate, self-degradating manner in which Riichi held himself. Maggie immediately reached out to take Riichi's hand, while at the same time Walter quickly said, "Riichi, I didn't say that to place blame. In fact, I meant it to have the opposite effect. I wanted you to realize none of us has the power to keep a twenty-four hour watch on another person, especially when they don't want to be watched. "You did everything that was expected of you while partnered with Mulder, and don't you dare think any differently. And when it was time to find Mulder, you worked above and beyond the call of duty to help find him. You should feel no shame in your role on this case, Agent Obayashi," the AD said firmly, but then added in a gentler, more comforting voice, "Riichi, you did a fine job. I would have wanted no one else but you working this one with me." "Thank you, Sir. The feeling is mutual." Riichi then looked at Maggie, who still had a comforting hand on his own and asked, "Is there any word on Mulder's condition?" "No, Dear, we're still waiting to hear." "It's taking a long time, isn't it?" asked Riichi. "It's always too long when it's the life of someone you love is in the balance," answered Maggie. "We just have to be patient." "I should try and call Mashiko. She doesn't know Mulder's been found yet. I should let her know we at least found him__." Riichi's nerves were torn completely at this point, and no matter how often the AD said Riichi shouldn't blame himself, he knew if he'd kept a closer eye on his partner, his friend, they wouldn't be in this mess. Obayashi felt his hands begin to shake and his breathing less controlled. He then began to panic at the possibility he was going to break down in front of the Assistant Director. This was not something he wanted to do, and he quickly released his hand from Maggie's and stood up. "Excuse me. I need to call my wife." As he rushed out the door, Maggie called to him, "Riichi, please, it's okay," but he either didn't hear her, or he chose to ignore her. He ran into the nearest men's room and allowed himself the chance to sob away all of the frustration and tension he'd been carrying around with him for the past few days. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ James Albright entered the room and saw the AD and who he soon realized was Mrs. Skinner, talking quietly in one corner of the room, while a young boy sat near a stroller which held an infant dressed in pinks and yellows. Shit. Mulder's kids. Oh God, it's his kids. Please, let the guy be all right. Let him be able to see his kids again. Albright shuddered when he looked at the little boy again. He was a Mulder reincarnate, that was for sure. The whole situation had seemed so surreal the last few days. Albright didn't know whether he was coming or going, between looking for a crazed serial killer and looking for Mulder, and not being absolutely sure if the two cases were related. But seeing Mulder's kids now, in this hospital, suddenly made it all the more real. And he found himself suddenly in the need of seeing his own wife and kissing his own two kids. The only thing that kept going through his mind over and over was, it could have been him. It could have been James Albright in that emergency trauma room and his wife and kids waiting for word in the waiting room. And that scared the crap out of him. This was certainly a turning point in James Albright's ability to put things in perspective. Mulder didn't want to be on this case in the first place, and Albright knew Mulder had no business being on this case. The man had just come off another brutal VCU case without a break from that one, and he was fighting a vicious cold. So, he was not only exhausted and depleted mentally, he was physically debilitated as well. And Albright knew it. And Albright chose to look the other way, because after all, he'd already lost one profiler, and he needed Mulder to help him catch the sonofabitch that was terrorizing the fine people of Chicago. Right. More like, he had to help catch the sonofabitch that was giving the Chicago field office of the FBI a bad name in the media, because according to the media the FBI couldn't find their way out of a brown paper bag. So, even though Albright knew it wasn't in Mulder's best interest to remain on the case, he kept quiet. After all, Mulder had his own personal watchdog in Agent Obayashi, who Albright realized looked like crap when he'd seen him leave the precinct office earlier. This probably hadn't been a picnic for Obayashi either. Jeeze, what the hell kind of SAC was he, anyway. Mulder and Obayashi were personal friends. This must have been a trip through hell for Obayashi, and he must still be traveling downward. Albright never thought of himself as insensitive before, but he wondered if perhaps he should seriously reconsider. He'd remained planted in the same spot when he'd walked in for several minutes. He finally looked up, startled, when he heard his name was called. "SAC Albright," called Skinner a third time. "Yes, Sir, I'm sorry. I must have gotten lost in my own thoughts there for a few minutes," Albright apologized. "Understandable, Agent. No need for apologies," the AD said and he then introduced Maggie. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Ma'am," Albright said, having remembered he'd actually spoken with Maggie on the phone when Mulder was first abducted, "though I wish it were under better circumstances." "Yes," she agreed, and then offered, "Agent Albright, my husband has had only the highest praise for your contribution in finding our son-in-law and solving this horrific case. I would like to extend my personal thanks as well." Albright found it difficult to accept her kind words when he knew he could have done something to prevent the entire debacle from happening. But he was also wise enough to know Maggie Skinner should not have to waste her energy in comforting him. Her husband, daughter, and grandchildren needed that more. So, instead, he graciously murmured his thanks, and then asked if there was any word on Mulder's condition. Before anyone could answer, Riichi returned, and all those in the room judiciously kept any comments about the very red, tear stained eyes to themselves. "Did you get a hold of Mashiko, Dear?" asked Maggie gently. "Yes, Mrs. Skinner. She sends her love and prayers." Both of the Skinners nodded their thanks. Just then, a very weary and emotionally drained Dana walked into the waiting area. She didn't seem to notice everyone in the room, but Dana did meet her mother's gaze. "Mom, you're here? The kids __?" Dana asked. Maggie pointed to the corner where Adam sat with his eyes closed and his hands pressed together in prayer. His grandmother smiled at how this child took everything which was told to him to such heart. Adam was definitely the son of Fox and Dana, there was no doubt about that. "I knew Dawn would be due a feeding soon, so I figured it would be best to simply meet you here," explained Maggie. "Oh. Yes, that's right. Is she up?" asked Dana in a daze. "No, honey, she's still sleeping. Sweetheart, tell us how Fox is," cajoled Maggie. ''Walter says he was awake enough to know you were there." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ end of part 12 Life Cycles: Holidays By Susan Proto and Vickie Moseley part 13/14 Albright moved up next to Dana and offered her a cup of coffee. She smiled, but shook her head. "Dawn would never sleep if I did," she said with a sheepish shrug. "Sorry, forgot for a moment that you're a nursing mom," he said, slightly embarrassed. "I'll see if they have decaf." "In a minute, Sir. I thought you might like to know about Fox." Albright bit his lip and nodded. He had wanted to know, wanted more than anything to grab the woman and demand any and all information. But it still took a hell of a woman to acknowledge that the people in the waiting room were desperate for any news of what was going on with the man in the trauma room. He was just beginning to appreciate exactly who Dana Scully was. "The doctors are prepping him for surgery. Most of this injuries resulted from one incident. From the various abrasions and bruising, plus the alignment of the broken bones in his leg, they are fairly certain that Fox was hit by a car. A car going a nice speed and hitting him dead on. This was not an accident, by any means." Maggie gasped, but said nothing. Walter's teeth could be heard grinding from three feet away. "His leg is broken, severely. It will require surgery, pins, to keep the bones in place while they knit. There was bleeding at the sight. It's not pretty. And it will take a long time to heal. Which will be a pain, because Fox hates crutches and for a couple of weeks, we may be talking wheelchair." Dana wet her lips and looked over at her children. Adam was still sitting next to Dawn, and though he'd made no move to come over, Dana knew he was listening to her every word. She would have to phrase the next part very carefully. "There was also some internal injury. His kidney was injured, it's been bleeding slowly over the time he's been in the basement. They don't know if they'll be able to salvage it." She closed her eyes for a moment. "But the worst is the pneumonia. The doctor doesn't like going into surgery with fluid in the patient's lungs, but there isn't a lot of choice. They're going to intubate for surgery, and that should help some. Since they won't be able to use normal anesthesia, they'll use an epidural which will paralyze the nerves from just below the chest down. Then they'll sedate him; hopefully it won't take much to put him to sleep. I just hope the surgery doesn't take very long. "They're fighting two battles. On the one hand, they need to dry out his lungs, and at the same time, he's very dehydrated from fever and lack of liquids during the last 48 hours." "He's awake?" Walter asked. He didn't dare voice his concerns. It sounded like all so much bad news to him. Dana nodded. "Off and on. His fever is high. He keeps asking me to take him home. He's afraid he's missing Hanukkah. He's told me three times to get the candles ready, and he finally told me what I did wrong with the latkes," she said with a sad smile. "I needed to drain the potatoes, apparently." "Can we see him?" Maggie asked. At that, Adam came up and took his grandmother's hand. "I want to see Daddy now, Mommy. Please? Dawnie's sleepin'. She'll be good." Dana was on the verge of tears, but held herself firmly in check. "I know I promised, big guy, and in a minute, they'll be bringing Daddy by here to take him up to another room. They have to make Daddy's leg better and help his tummy. After they fix that, we'll be able to see him all we want, OK? But we can give him a kiss as they take him upstairs, all right?" Adam nodded solemnly, a worried look coming over his eyes. "Mommy," he whispered, pulling her down to his level again. "Dawnie might get scared. She'll want Daddy to wake up and use his magic shoulder and he won't; I remember." Blinking back the tears was no longer an option. They were falling down her cheeks whether she wanted them to or not. She took her son into a fierce hug. "Then we'll make her feel safe, Adam. You and I. We won't let her be scared, OK?" She could feel him nod against her shoulder, but she also knew that fear resided in his little heart as much as he thought it would in his sister. "It's going to be all right, baby. We found Daddy. It's all going to be all right." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mulder had lost track of his surroundings until they moved him from one gurney to another. Ouch! Why they were always tossing him from one bed to the next he could never understand. He reached out his hand, but there was no other small hand to clasp onto. Had he dreamed about Dana being with him? No, he remembered her being there, kissing his forehead, when the doctors let her near him. He knew she wasn't far. They probably kicked her out again. But where would she go without him? His thoughts were so confused. He hurt so much. Every time he closed his eyes it was a struggle to drag them open again. Maybe he should just stop struggling so much? Maybe then he wouldn't hurt as bad, wouldn't hurt to breath. Breathing had become too much of an agony. Wouldn't it be easier just to forget to breath in a while? What was the worst that could happen? That he wouldn't hurt anymore? He felt the gurney move and it startled him. Where were they taking him? He could make out voices. Someone was leaning over him, but he didn't recognize them, so he didn't make the effort to try and understand what they were telling him. There was only one voice he cared to hear at that moment and her's wasn't in the cacophony above him. More motion. The gurney bumped over a threshold and he gasped at the pain that shot through him from the suddenly jostling. The oxygen mask over his face wasn't really doing that much to help him. When he did blink his eyes open, the world was colorless, and grayed out at the edges. Lights. He could see lights as they moved above his face. Or was it him who was moving? They stopped, and again, he wished he could cry out just to tell them to stop the jostling! But in a second, there was the hand. Her hand. He decided it was worth the effort to drag his eyes open one last time. Her face. Dana smiled down at him and stroked his cheek. Gently, she moved the mask off his face and leaned over to kiss him ever so softly on his lips. She slipped the mask back on and he could breath a little bit. For some reason, the pain just seemed to fade a bit when she kissed him. Then she was gone and he almost sobbed for the loss until another face came into view, and then another. Mom. Dad. They were there, too. Mom, Maggie, leaned over and kissed his forehead. She was telling him something, but he was so caught up in the joy of just seeing her that he didn't really catch what she was saying. Dad, Walter, had tears in his eyes. He leaned down and kissed his forehead, too. The next face he saw was Adam's. His son. His beautiful baby boy, who wasn't so much a baby anymore. Mulder forced a smile on his face as he looked at his son and the tiny boy smiled back. Words came through the fog. Adam's voice cut through to his hearing. "I love you, Daddy." Walter's face beamed next to Adam's as he held the boy up in his arms. "We all do, son. We love you." Walter bend down so that Adam could give him a kiss on the forehead. Walter moved aside to let Dana come into the space where Mulder's vision was locked. She held Dawn. His little Dawn, his bright new beginning. She was so tiny. Was Adam ever that tiny, Mulder wondered. And her face was that of an angel. She wasn't red faced and squalling, she was asleep and peaceful and his heart almost burst with love for her. Nana's words came back to him. Someday he would have to give her to some other man. But not today. Not for a long, long time. Dana tore her gaze away from his, toward someone standing nearby and nodded, a set expression on her face. She leaned over and this time he could make out her words. "We're all waiting for you, Sweetheart. We'll be there when you wake up. I love you, Fox. So very, very much." She kissed him again and moved back. The gurney started to move again. It was still agony to breath, everything hurt so much. But he could take the pain. For them, for his family, he could hold on. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ They'd been sitting in the surgical waiting room, all six of them, for about two hours. Because of the late hour, there was only one other family sharing the room with them. Most surgeries were scheduled during the day and most trauma emergencies were handled at nearby Cook County Hospital, which tended to specialize in gunshot and stab wounds. A tall gentleman in his early thirties came into the room and looked around. Dana was the first to notice him, and figured he for a member of the clergy, coming to visit the other family. When he turned to look around, she noticed the yarmulke perched on the back of his head and smiled, then settled back down to read the book they'd found for Adam. The voice was right over her and she looked up to see the man smiling at her. "Mrs. Mulder?" Surprised, she nodded. "Yes, I'm Dana Mulder," she said, knowing that's how all the hospital staff knew her at the moment. He extended his hand. "I'm Rabbi Daniel Wolff. I'm one of the chaplains here at the Medical Center. The nurse asked if I could stop by. I understand your husband was brought in tonight and is in surgery. Oh, and she said they found this in the coat he was wearing." In Rabbi Wolff's hand was the same little prayer and activity book that Adam had insisted they bring from home. She reached out and took the book in her hands. It was pretty battered, had gotten wet in the basement. There was a smudge of blood on the cover which made her wince. But it was the same book. She swallowed back her tears. "I thought we might say a prayer together," Rabbi Wolff suggested. Dana smiled. "I'd like that, Rabbi, but I should warn you. I'm not good with Hebrew. I'm Catholic. It's my husband who's Jewish," she admitted a bit self-consciously. The Rabbi beamed. "Ah, one of _those_ marriages," he laughed. "Not to worry, Mrs. Mulder. I know all kinds of nice 'non-denominational' prayers. And I also have some connections. Father Mick Garraty, over at Holy Name is a buddy of mine from my old neighborhood. His church is just a mile away, although most of his parishioners end up at Cook County rather than here. I can ask him to come over, if you'd like. The more the merrier, right?" Three hours later, Rabbi Daniel was holding a sleeping Dawn in his lap, and Father Mick was sitting next to a sleeping Adam, talking quietly to Walter about his brother in the Marines. The other family had long since left, their patient had been moved to recovery and they were waiting for her in her regular room. After much conjoling, SAC Albright had been forced home to his own family, but only with the assurance that he would be called immediately with any news. Riichi had succumbed to exhaustion and had fallen asleep on a sofa. Maggie had covered him with one of the blankets the desk nurse had supplied for them. Dana was pacing again, just in front of the double doors which lead to the operating rooms. When the one of the doors opened, it almost smacked her in the face. She quickly came out from behind it and accosted the tired doctor standing there. "Is there any news on Agent Mulder?" she asked, but it sounded more like a demand than a plea. "Mrs. Mulder, right? I'm Dr. Wright. I operated on your husband. I wonder if we could talk over there," he said, pointing to an area away from the rest of the family and friends. "I'd prefer it if we could all hear what you have to say, Dr. Wright. It will save me time later," Dana said firmly and led the doctor over to the chairs near Walter. Dana made quick introductions all around, and during those, Riichi woke up and joined the group. Finally, looking a little bewildered by the assortment of people before him, Dr. Wright started by taking a deep breath. "You're husband is in recovery," he told Dana and nodded to the rest. "We were able to save the kidney, but I'll tell you, the recovery will be trickier than if we'd just removed it. We'll have to keep a very close watch on him." "I'm a medical doctor, I'm a pathologist," Dana said, hoping that would keep the good doctor from trying to 'dumb down' his concerns. Wright managed a weak smile. "Then you know what I'm talking about. His blood volume is good, surprisingly. Of course the pneumonia complicates any recovery. We're treating with Biaxin IV and hoping for improvement as early as this evening." "The leg?" Dana reminded him. "I was getting to that." Wright sighed. "It was in pretty bad shape. As you know, bones need to be set rather soon after trauma. Complications can arise if they are neglected. The bone was shattered. We did have to wrap and pin, I imagine you understand that procedure?" he glanced over to see Dana nod. "He's going to have a pretty nasty scar. But then, he already has a couple of those on his other leg, I noticed." "But will he have full mobility?" Walter finally spoke up. This was his field agent, after all, as well as his son-in-law. "I'm afraid that's what I was, well, tap dancing around. We won't know for a while. For now," he made a point to include the two clergy member, "for now, we just have to pray." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mulder had finally been moved to a private room that became available at the last moment. It proved to be medically advisable; not for Mulder, so much as for any potential roommate. The Fox Mulder fan club was alive and well and in full force, and when Dawn Marie Mulder made her presence known, the whole world knew about it. Fox felt a warm breeze around his face. He opened his eyes slowly and found himself staring into a pair of hazel eyes which rivaled his own. Before anyone had noticed, Adam had climbed up on his dad's hospital bed and was staring hard in an attempt to will him to open his eyes and wake up. It worked. "Hi, big guy," Mulder rasped out in greeting. "You're sure a sight for sore eyes." "Hi, Daddy," Adam said seriously. "I'm glad Nana and me helped Mommy 'rescued' you." "You did? You and Nana?" the elder Mulder replied with a big smile. Upon seeing his son nod his head vigorously in response, Mulder then said, "Well, I'm glad you did too." "Adam Mulder, now what are you doing on your father's bed?" asked a very stern Maggie Skinner. "I'm saying hello, Gam-ma!" he replied innocently. ''And so you are," she answered with a chuckle. "But I think your daddy could rest more easily if you sat in a chair next to him, okay?" Maggie lifted her grandson off of his father and plopped him in the chair beside the bed. "Where's Dane?" asked Mulder of Maggie. "She went to buy some baby supplies. We were running low on diapers and wipes. Plus, she was dying for something real to eat, so Walter and she went to a nearby restaurant for some take out." "Do I get some?" he asked, knowing full well what the answer would be. "Not today, Fox. I'm afraid you're on clear broth and jello detail." "Oh, yum," he replied sarcastically. He then heard a voice he'd longed to hear and said in an equally dry tone, "Gee, I wonder if Dawn's here?" Adam giggled and said, "Yeah, Daddy. Dawnie's saying hi in baby talk." Maggie smiled, and without having to be asked, picked up her squalling granddaughter, and carried her over to Fox. "God, Mom, she's gotten so big in just the couple of days I've been gone." "Umm, sweetheart, you do know it's been more than just a couple of days since you've seen her, don't you?" Maggie asked. "More? How much more?" he asked tentatively. "Sweetheart, you left for your case a couple of days or so before Hanukkah, and you were kidnapped on the first night. Fox, tonight is the last night of Hanukkah," Maggie said gently. "The last night? God, how long have I been in the hospital?" he asked incredulously. "Just a couple of days or so, that's all. Oh, but you are doing so much better. Your fever finally broke last night, which is why I suspect you're feeling better now," explained Maggie. "Well, I'm not about to do a jig or the hora, but I guess I'm feeling better." The baby continued to cry, so Fox reached out for her. "Fox, I don't know if __." "__Please, Mom. It's been so long since I've held my daughter." "Besides Gam-ma, Daddy's got the magic shoulder," encouraged Adam. "Mommy says Daddy's the only one who can make Dawnie stop crying without her having to plug into her." Maggie couldn't find fault with that argument, so she carefully place the infant in her father's arms so Dawn laid upon the 'magic shoulder.' Maggie smiled as she listened to Fox talk with his baby girl, much like in the same way the Captain used to speak with Melissa and Dana when they were newborns. And amazingly enough, Fox's shoulder' did its magic again. The baby settled down with her fist in her mouth and her head laid contentedly on her daddy's shoulder, in the crook of his neck. "She feels so good," he said, and then turning to his son he said, "Shh, if you don't tell Gam-ma, I think there's some room on the other side for you." "Fox! Adam! Slow down!" cried out Maggie as she watched her grandson run around to the other side of the bed and scramble atop of it next to his father. She was ready to admonish both of them, but when she saw Adam nuzzle into his father's side, she didn't have the heart. "Just try to rest for a little while. All of you, okay?" The two Mulder men and one little Mulder lady agreed wholeheartedly. Within minutes, all three were sound asleep. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dana and Walter returned with enough take out Chinese food for practically the entire nursing staff. Dana wanted to be sure to let the nursing staff know how much she appreciated the extra mile they went in taking care of her husband. Though he was out of danger, he was still in need of very attentive care, and this staff was showing Fox just that. But she never expected to see what she saw when she opened Mulder's door. Adam remained snuggled and sleeping up against Fox's side while the baby snoozed on his shoulder. Maggie was sound asleep in the oversized lounge chair one of the very compassionate nurses had shlepped in for them to use when they'd been keeping round the clock vigils. The only one in the room that appeared wide awake was the patient himself. "Hey there," she said as moved closer to kiss him hello. "Hi, Dane. I missed you." "Oh, I missed you too. It's nice to have you back. I take it the children agree?" she said with a chuckle. "Yeah. God, I missed them so much. It feels so good to have them near me. Hey, I could make a little room and you __," he whispered with a huge smile. "__ Save it G-Man. I'll join you when it's a little less crowded, okay?" The door opened, and Walter entered, having just parked the car. "You're awake! How ya feeling?" "Like a two ton truck ran me over, but better than I have in days, that's for sure." "You look better than you have in days too," Walter retorted. "Oh, you're back. I must have dozed off," yawned Maggie. "Did you bring back something delicious to eat? I'm actually starving." "Oh sure, Mom, torture me. I'll eat my green jello while you eat__, what did you bring to eat anyway?" Mulder asked. "Chinese. General Tsao's Chicken and some chow mein for you, Mom. Chicken in foil and lo mein for the son. And, if you are a good boy, Agent Mulder, I may even share some of my Wonton soup broth with you. What do you think of that?" asked a very teasing Scully. "Oh, be still my heart!" replied a chuckling Mulder in kind. "Throw in a wonton, and you can have your way with me woman!" "Right, and we'd probably be extending your hospital stay by at least another week or so," she replied laughing. "I'm hungry," announced a now very awake, and slightly cranky Adam. "Well, c'mon little G-Man, and let's feed your hungry belly!" said Scully. "Little G-Man?" echoed Mulder curiously. "Yup! Daddy, I'm an 'onrary FBI agent cause I 'cept my 'ssignments just like you and Mommy do from Gam-pa," explained a very excited Adam. "Wow, you give Gam-pa a run for his money too?" Mulder said with a smile towards his father-in-law and boss. Walter smiled and said, "At least he admits he busts my chops. Please, someone, mark this date and sign it as my witnesses." Mulder smiled at Walter's comments, but then realized how true it all was. "Umm, Walter? I just wanted to say that I didn't mean for this to happen," he began. "I mean, I know sometimes I get myself into trouble because I don't think ahead, but this time? I really didn't mean to do anything wrong. I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I worried everyone," he said apologetically. "Fox," Walter said reassuringly, "no one is blaming you for this incident. Do n't blame yourself. The only person who can claim blame is the perpetrator, Alan Tripp. No one else was at fault, and especially not you." "Or you," Scully said as she watched a now very confused Riichi Obayashi walk through the door. "Or me, what?" he asked. "You've just walked in on the old, 'No one's blaming you for another fine mess you've gotten yourself into, Ollie,' lecture. Dane wants to make sure you realize you couldn't have prevented this no matter what you did," Mulder elaborated. "Oh. Well, I wish I could have done more. I mean, I didn't want you to miss your holiday," Riichi said hesitantly. "Oh, but we didn't, did we? Maggie, you said tonight's the last night, right?" Mulder asked excitedly. "Oh, but Sweetheart, I didn't bring the menorah with me," remarked a disappointed Scully. "Oh! Me! Me!" shouted a very excited Adam. "Dawnie's bag! Dawnie's diaper bag! Where did it go, Gam-ma?" "Here sweetheart. Be careful, it's heavy," Maggie warned. Adam pulled on the zipper and started throwing disposable diapers around the room. His mother began to admonish him, when finally, he pulled out the object of his search. The original, small brass menorah Mulder first used when Adam was born. "I couldn't fit the big, new one in Dawnie's bag, Daddy, but I figured this would be good too, right?" "Oh, Adam, it's perfect. It's even better than the big, new one, because you brought it," Fox told his very proud son. "Umm, Adam, you didn't by some small miracle think to pack some candles, did you?" asked Scully, knowing her son may look like his father, and he may ask a million questions like his father, but if her hunch was right, Adam was also organized as any true Scully was, just like his mother. "Yup!" he answered with a huge grin as he pulled out the box from the zippered compartment. Dana beamed, "That's my boy!" "My goodness," interjected Maggie, "no wonder that bag felt like it weighed an extra two tons!" "It's dark outside! Can we light the candles now?" asked Adam. "Sweetheart, Daddy's still on oxygen, so we can't actually light the candles. It could cause an explosion," Dana explained. "Sorry 'bout that big guy. You can light the candles when you go back to the hotel, okay?" offered Mulder. "But that's not the same as lighting them with you," Adam whined. "I know. I'm disappointed too, but Adam, the important thing is we're together. I didn't totally miss spending Hanukkah with you and Dawn and your Mom. Let's make the most of it, okay?" Mulder pleaded quietly. "Okay, Daddy." "Adam, why don't you set the candles up in the menorah. You can pick out all of the prettiest colors," said Maggie. Adam nodded in agreement as he began to set up the menorah. "Ohmigod, the book. I have the book!" Mulder said excitedly. "It's in my coat. Look in the closet, Dane. Please!" Dana beamed and pulled the little book out of her pocket. "It's not in your coat, G-Man. It's right here." She handed to him while he shot her a questioning look. Finally deciding he'd get her to tell him later, he opened the book to the last section. He recited the blessings in perfect Hebrew. Everyone echoed the 'amen' at the end of the blessings. Everyone stared at the unlit candles, and Adam asked, "Is it really Hanukkah if you don't light the candles?" "Yes, shayner boychikel. It's still really Hanukkah," said the lilting accented voice. "Hi, Nana!" squealed Adam in delight. "We did it! We found Daddy, but we can't light the candles cause Daddy will blow up if we do." "Oh my! We can't have that, now can we!" asked Nana. "Foxila, you're feeling better, no?" "Yes, Nana, I'm feeling better. Thank you for helping me believe in my miracle." "I think we need one more miracle. Nu, you think maybe you and Adam could live with one more miracle, mine aynekels?" she asked with a gleam in her eye. "Yes! Yes, Nana!" agreed five year old Adam immediately. "It's not gonna make me blow up, is it Nana?" asked Fox, chuckling at his son's explanation. "No, but it will fulfill young Adam's Hanukkah wish," she said, and she closed her eyes. Nana held her hands out over the candles of the menorah. One by one, beginning with the shamash, the worker candle, each one began to glow a fire-less light. Riichi watched in awe and fascination as the menorah's gentle radiance lit up the room. "Why do I have a feeling we're not alone?" he asked with a warm smile. "Hello, Nana, where ever you are," he whispered in greeting. Maggie, Walter, and Dana echoed their friend's words while they all basked in the glow of the Hanukkah lights. A miracle was renewed tonight. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ end of part 13 Life Cycles: Holidays by Susan Proto and Vickie Moseley Part 14 Epilogue Mulder residence Christmas Eve "You know, you can pay people to assemble those things for you. And then they can send their kids to camp and college and have a wonderful standard of living," came the snickering voice from the sofa. "And miss the joy of a gouged palm? Never!" answered Walter Skinner as he put the last turn on the socket wrench he was holding. "There! One 16 inch, two wheeled bike, with training wheels, metallic midnight blue with racing details, all set for the sidewalk." Mulder smiled appreciatively. "Thanks, Gam-pa. I was just joking about the assembling. You did a great job." "Hey, for my grandson, only the best," Walter said, gathering his tools and maneuvering the bike under the tree. Or at least near the tree. Under the tree was pretty much taken up by the deluge of presents. Walter flashed Mulder one raised eyebrow. Mulder shrugged. "We combined. I had some stuff put on lay away, believe it or not, for Hanukkah, and well, Dane went a little nuts this year. Anyway, that's Hanukkah and Christmas together. We aren't spoiling them, honest, Dad," he said solemnly. "Hey, what are kids for if not to spoil," Walter said, and Mulder shifted a bit to allow the older man room on the sofa. "How's the leg?" "Sore. But it's too good to be home to let it bother me tonight." "I didn't want to bring up a sore subject, pardon the pun, but how did the tests come out earlier today?" "Oh, Dad, I'm sorry! In all the excitement, I forgot to tell you and Mom. Dana took the call late this afternoon. The test came out fine. No nerve damage. I should gain full use of my leg. Sometime around July, but at least it's going to happen." Walter reached over and grasped his son-in-law's hand. "Thank God," he said in a strained voice. Mulder nodded, looking at the flames in the fireplace. "It got awfully quiet in here," Dana said, as she came into the living room, carrying a tray with steaming mugs. "We finished," Walter said, wiping hurriedly at his eyes. "Just admiring the workmanship." Dana shot him a curious look and then one to her husband, who only shook his head slightly. Taking his cue, she turned her attention to the bike under the tree. "Great job, guys." "Dad did all the work," Mulder pointed out. "Not true! You found the English version of the instructions, Fox. Otherwise, we would have needed a Japanese/English dictionary to put the thing together." They shared a chuckle. "Well, we know who to call when we need someone to assemble a Barbie Dream House in a couple of years." "Oh, please, not one of those," Maggie cried in mock exasperation, joining the other three. "It took your father and I three hours to put together the one we got Melissa when she was six. And then, since the boys managed to destroy that one, we had to do the same darned thing again two years later when _you_ wanted one." "We pay to have it assembled," Mulder said with a wink to his wife. Dana handed out the mugs to her mother and father-in-law. "Mulled cider, Grandma Scully's recipe." Walter took his and bit his lip. "Maybe I should pass, I'm the designated driver." Dana smiled and pressed the mug into his hands. "This year, I made the 'unleaded' version. Safe for designated AD's, nursing mothers and Agents on medical leave under doctor's orders." "Well, then, where's mine?" Mulder piped up and she handed him a mug as well. Getting her own, she snuggled down next to her husband. "Warm enough?" she asked quietly. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. "There was a moment in that basement when I never thought I'd be warm again. But yeah, I'm warm enough now." He pulled her head down onto his shoulder and leaned his own head against hers. He almost chuckled as he thought of the most appropriate word for what he was doing. Basking. Basking in the warmth of the fire and the love of his family. "It's a beautiful tree," Maggie said a while later, smiling at her daughter. "Dane? Why is there a Star of David on our Christmas tree? Does this mean I have to put little Santas on our menorah?" Mulder asked, with obvious confusion. His wife punched him lightly in the arm. "No, silly. That's from the 'Tree of Jesse'. The lineage of the Christ child. If you look hard enough, you'll see Noah's ark and Moses' staff. I found them in Chicago at the hospital gift shop and picked them up." "As a remembrance of our wonderful visit?" Mulder shot back with mild sarcasm. "As a reminder of our Hanukkah miracle," she said softly in her husband's ear and then placed a kiss on his cheek. "Then I love them," he said softly and kissed her back. Suddenly, there was the sound of little footsteps on stairs and a squeal of delight from the doorway. "Santa comed! Santa comed! And I got my bike!" Adam cried with joy as he danced over to the tree. "And looky at all the presents," he said in awe. "Mommy, can I open 'em now?" he pleaded. "Adam, we have to wait till tomorrow," Dana was trying to say over his begging. "Dawn isn't awake . . ." "Um, Sweetheart," Mulder said, nudging his wife. "Correction. Dawn _is_ awake. And I think that's a hunger cry, if I'm not mistaken." Dana shot her husband an icy glare. "I blame you for this 'nocturnal activity', Fox William Mulder," she growled, but got up to collect their daughter so that she could join the festivities. "Daddy's in trouble," Adam confided in his grandfather. "Mommy only uses our middle names when we're in trouble." Walter fought to keep the smile off his face. "I'll remember that," he told his grandson. "Dane, look at this way. If we open the gifts now, we get to sleep in tomorrow," Mulder pointed out when she returned and settled back on the couch with their infant daughter suckling for dear life. "And Grandma and Grandpa get to join in on the fun," Maggie pointed out. "We could go to eleven o'clock Mass at St. Anne's, I suppose," Dana said with a resigned sigh. "OK, big guy. Do you think you can do the honors?" "Is that another 'signment, Agent Mommy?" Adam asked, eyes twinkling. "Well, since 'Agent Mommy' is feeding baby Dawn, and 'Agent' Daddy is a bit indisposed, yes, I guess that 'assignment' gets passed on to you," she replied with a wink to her son. "Go for it, Agent Adam. Just read the tags and pass out the gifts to the right people. And I bet if you get stuck, the Assistant Director won't mind giving you a hand." Walter beamed. "It would be my pleasure. Let's see what we've got here, Adam." Dana snuggled back into her previous position, still cradling Dawn. Mulder wrapped his arm around them both, and with his free hand, tenderly stroked his daughter's hair as she nursed. "Merry Christmas, Sweetheart," he whispered to his wife and over the din of squeals she smiled. Tilting her head, she caught his lips with a kiss. "Merry Christmas, my love. Merry Christmas and welcome home." the end. pass the eggnog. And the big bottle of rum We live for feedback. STPteach@aol.com and vmoseley@fgi.net ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Season's Greetings Peace and Joy ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^