Life Cycles 17: The Bonding By Susan Proto Part 0/5 Category: MSR (marriage) and Walter/Maggie (marriage), a pinch of angst, some mild SkinnerTorture (something new under the sun!) ScullyTorture (not that one…no, not even *that* one ) and a little MulderTorture thrown in for good measure. Rating: PG13 for language! Yes, they cuss. A lot. Spoilers: Specifically, a really tiny one for Agua Mala and a little one referring to Tithonus, as well as any ep that ever mentioned baby Matthew… It's always safe to say up through the season six… …Now, umm, about *baby* Matthew. I've put my disclaimers into this separate part to give those of you who don't give a darn about my 'mea culpa' regarding this universe's timeline an opportunity to bail and go directly to the story or the delete key. It's always your choice, my friends. Given the fact that the LC universe has been around for a fairly lengthy time, I found myself constantly questioning certain 'facts' and story lines that I'd created in the universe. I knew everyone understood this was an alternate universe, but still, I felt it was important to try and be consistent within the universe itself. Oy. As I get older, I find I cannot remember squat, so I decided to reread the series while I had a little extra time and take the time to write down the important 'facts.' To be honest, I cringed a few times as I tried to write down a *consistent* little LC universe bible of sorts. (Now I know why CC & co. screw up the canon all the time…nobody writes it down for him either! ) This was a good deal harder than I'd ever expected it to be. So, to make an already very long-winded explanation hopefully a little shorter, I would like to offer my mea culpa right now over the now very compressed timeline from which Life Cycles 17 picks up from. Baby Matthew is no longer a baby, but in fact, is the eldest of three children in Bill and Tara's family. Devan Scully remains Charlie and Karen Scully's oldest (yes, he's my plot device and was from almost the beginning of the universe) and now also has two younger siblings. Adam is six going on seven, and Dawn is now fourteen months. And LC's timeline has taken us beyond the summer of 1999 (not by much, but let's just say they've celebrated the eve of the millenium, and then some, okay?) Number 17 is, however, set during the summer. May I offer a suggestion to those of you who are planning to write a series? If you haven't started one yet, you might want to create a timeline with important characters and events listed. The ol' memory may not be as accurate as you hope it to be. I'll be doing the same for Abah and the Barbecue Series. Hopefully you'll find any discrepancies only a minor inconvenience that does not detract from your enjoyment of the story. Thanks in advance for your understanding. Okay, back to business. Summary: While Scully goes out with the girls, Mulder gets a chance to bond with the boys. Oh joy. Archive: Yes. Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana, Maggie Scully, Walter Skinner, Tara Scully and Charles Scully belong to 10/13 productions and Chris Carter (though CC hasn't done anything with Charlie, so I'm real tempted to renege on *that* particular disclaimer…DO something with him, Chris! Please!) Adam and Dawn Mulder, Karen Scully, The Goldfarb family , and any other character you don't recognize are mine. Since I have learned to play nice in the sandbox, I am only borrowing CC's characters and promise to return them at the end of the story. I haven't earned a red cent for writing this tale, so don't please, don't sue. Introduction: This is the next story in the series, (and yes, I gave up on the Roman Numerals. It's just easier to read than XVII.) The story picks up on the LC alternate universe timeline (see above) and it would most likely be helpful to read the stories that precede this one. You can find the series archived at the ever wonderful, Shirley Smiley's MulderTorture site at: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Dimension/8261/index.html And to Vickie Moseley, our own, brand new government bureaucrat, (MAZEL TOV, again, sweetie!! Remember the mantra!) I want to express a whole lot of thanks for helping me pick through the confusion and giving me the moral support to finish the story. Feedback: I'd love it. I really do try to get back to everyone who writes in a timely manner. Sometimes, however, my personal timeline gets mucky, and for those who haven't heard from me yet, accept my apologies and request for patience. I still have some emails that I know I NEED to respond to. I will, I promise! Later, Susan See my stories, courtesy of the extraordinary Web Mistress, Shirley Smiley at: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Chamber/4819/index.html "Paper is more patient than people."- Anne Frank ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End of 0/5 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Life Cycles 17: The Bonding by Susan Proto (STPteach@aol.com) Disclaimers in Part 0/5 Part 1/5 "Scully," he said with only a hint of a whine, "you can't possibly think this is really a good idea." "Okay, Mulder, are you now going to give me reason number 427 why you shouldn't join the guys for an afternoon of male bonding?" she replied teasingly. She knew this wasn't going to be the easiest afternoon her husband would ever spend, so she wanted to treat the topic as lightly as possible. However, she also knew if there was a way for him to weasel out of this afternoon, he would, and there was no way she was going to let him get out of the commitment. "Well for one, it's not gonna just be males," he responded with a wry smile. "Females under the age of twelve do not count, Mulder. And your daughter only just passed her first birthday, so forget it!" Scully looked at her husband and decided to bring in the big guns. Sometimes a timely placed tidbit of 'guilt' never hurt. "I can't believe you'd begrudge me this time with the girls," she admonished, though she was careful to say it with a smile. She knew if she presented it too seriously, Mulder's penchant for taking on the woes of the world would take hold of him and absolutely prevent him from finding any joy whatsoever in the day's activities. "I'm not begrudging you anything! I just don't see why I have to spend time with the guys, while you go and have your little reunion with the girls," he replied indignantly, though he knew Scully was teasing him, well mostly, at any rate. "Because those _guys_ include my brothers who would like the opportunity to spend some time with their nephew and baby niece, that's why!" "My point exactly," he muttered a little too loudly. "What did you say, dear?" she asked a little too innocently. "Look, I can drop the kids off at Mom's house, and your brothers can visit with them as much as they want!" Mulder replied in a tone a little less lighthearted than he'd wanted. "Oh, go ahead! Just dump our children off with my brothers," Scully replied with a chuckle in an attempt to ease her husband's anxiety. "Well, Walter would be there," he replied defensively, as he realized he must have sounded like a heartless beast. He looked at his wife and took a deep breath, but remained silent. "But it was Mom and Walter's idea that we do this. Mom wants to treat all of the girls to lunch at the mall, and to give us a bit of a break from the children. And Walter is treating you guys and the kids to lunch and fun at the KiddieGym. He really wants a chance to get to know the other grandkids, but with Mom around, that's not always possible," she reminded him. "I'm sorry," he said contritely. "For what?" she asked with a small sigh, thinking she'd made him feel a little more guilty than she'd intended. "For worrying about something that hasn't even happened yet," he replied honestly, though, at this point, Scully wasn't sure what he was referring to. When he saw the confused expression on her face, Mulder explained, "It's just that you know when ever Bill and I get together, it seems as though someone gets hurt. Oh, and by the way, that someone usually ends up being me." He smiled as he watched Scully's lips curl up into a small smile as well. "Mulder, that's ridiculous," she replied. "Is it?" "Of course it is!" she laughed. "Now, you are going to meet the guys at the KiddieGym at noon. Richard will be there as well as Walter to protect you from my brothers, right? Besides, you actually like Charlie, don't you?" she asked curiously. "Yes, I like Charlie. But that doesn't negate the fact that Bill and I will be in the same room, Scully. It's difficult enough when we're in the same zip code, much less the same room," he replied exasperated. "Oh, Mulder, be brave. What could possibly happen?" He rolled her eyes at her, but before he could tick off the many possibilities, she put her finger to his lips and continued, "There's a pizza parlor and ice cream shop in the same shopping area as the KiddieGym. If you're a good boy, Mulder, I'm sure Walter will spring for a slice of pizza, and if you're really, really good, he might even buy you an ice cream, too." She patted his head teasingly for effect and then added, "I've got to get ready. I'm supposed to pick up Leslie and meet Mom, Karen, and Tara at the mall in less than an hour!" "Fine. Send me to my doom," he began melodramatically, "but if something happens to me, I'm laying the blame on you, Scully!" She waved him off as she entered their bedroom to change. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bill and Charlie were the first to arrive at the KiddieGym site. Walter wasn't there as yet, since he'd taken his own car. The minivan Bill had rented was only large enough to accommodate the two fathers and all of their kids. There were the car seats for Bill's youngest, John, and Charlie's youngest, Caitlin (both going through the terrible twos stage,) as well as Bill's older two, Matthew (age 12) and Meghan (age 10), and Charlie's older son, Devan (age 9) and daughter, Allison (4). The oldest of the Scully third generation was rather indignant that he was being forced to join in what he considered childish frivolity until his father appealed to the pre-teen's more mercenary side and offered him ten bucks to help out with his sister and cousins. Bill added, "And if you do a really good job, there's an extra ten in it for you." Matthew, never one to pass up a business opportunity, changed his attitude very quickly. "Dad, look! Is that a video arcade over next to the pizza shop?" Upon seeing his father nod in agreement, young Matthew Scully emitted a joyious, "YES!" and did a little bit of a happy dance at the discovery of this new good fortune. The day was not going to be totally lame after all. "Dad, can we have some money for the arcade? I'll take Meggie and Devan with me," he offered. "Me too! I wanna go play video games too!" cried out four year old Allison. "No, you're too young, Ali. Next time," declared the preteen, but not unkindly. "Take Ali too," Bill said. When Charlie saw his nephew's exasperated expression, he said "Just for a little while, okay? She'll get bored with it within fifteen, twenty minutes tops, and then you can bring her back into the KiddieGym. Please?" Matthew nodded in acquiescence, smiled, and then quickly took the twenty his Uncle Charlie offered him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When Mulder pulled up into the parking lot, he saw Bill and Charlie waiting with their younger kids. Richard Goldfarb, his best 'normal' friend, pulled in the same time as he did. The two men greeted one another as they unloaded their children and assorted paraphernalia. As the children chattered amicably with one another, Mulder said earnestly to Richard, "I want to thank you again for coming along. I know this may not be the easiest of outings to endure." "Does Bill know I'm going to be here?" asked Richard. "He may not be too happy to see me." Richard was recalling the time he was Bill Scully's Public Defender against assault and bias crime charges. "Nah, he'll be thrilled to see you. You got him off, remember?" replied Mulder. "Now, _me_, well, that's another question entirely." Richard nodded but didn't' respond, because he didn't know how to respond. He, himself, had nutty in-laws, but even with their eccentricities they all got along. Richard knew that was not the case with Mulder and his brother-in-law. For some reason, the animosity between the two remained high. He was pretty sure there were no hard feelings between the younger Scully brother and Mulder; at least Mulder never spoke of any. Bill, though, was another story. "I guess Walter's not here yet," Mulder said with a little disappointment. He was counting on Walter, as well as Richard, to act as a buffer between himself and Bill. Richard nodded and then both men walked towards the waiting Scully brothers. "Hey, Mulder," greeted Charlie with a smile and an extended hand. "Richard, it's good to see you again, too. Mulder was relieved to hear the warmth in Charlie's voice. He'd have three people to act as a buffer. Of course, if he hadn't taken a quick peek at Bill's reaction to Charlie's greeting, Mulder might have retained that warm and fuzzy feeling. Unfortunately he saw Bill's look of disdain and once again felt his brother-in-law's coldness. Mulder wanted to reach out and grasp Charlie's outstretched hand, but he was weighed down by holding Adam's hand in his right hand and fourteen-month-old Dawn in his left. Her diaper bag was in danger of falling off his shoulder and batting poor Adam in the face. "Sorry," Charlie said when he realized Mulder didn't have a free one to shake. "Can I help you out here?" "Nah, I'm okay. Hey, Adam," Mulder said as he looked down at his six year old son, "Do you remember your Uncle Charlie __, and Uncle Bill?" "Yes." "Adam? What do you do when you to greet someone?" prodded Mulder. "Oh," the child said and then extended his hand and said, "Hello, Uncle Charlie. It's nice to see you again." He shook his Charlie's hand and then repeated the greeting with Bill. "So, how long have you been practicing that?" asked Charlie with a smile. "I'm impressed!" "Yeah, Mulder, you got him trained pretty good," interjected Bill. From anyone else, Mulder wouldn't have taken offence; yet this was Billy offering his opinion, and Mulder didn't know any other way responding to him. Before Mulder could say anything, however, Richard quickly offered his hand to both of the brothers and greeted them politely. He then introduced his two children, ten and a half year old Rachael and six year old Jason. The children smiled politely and said hello. "Where are the rest of the kids?" asked Mulder. "Oh, Matthew discovered the video arcade, so he took the older guys over there for a bit." "Daddy?" asked Rachael, "May I go over to the arcade too?" "Well, I don't know, Rache. I don't know if I like the idea of you being on your own in there," replied Richard. "Listen, Richard, my son Matthew is a pretty responsible kid," and when he saw just a mere hint of a raised eyebrow on Richard's face, he added, "even if his dad isn't always. He'll keep an eye on her. Honestly." When Richard looked first to Charlie and then to Mulder, he saw both men nod slightly in agreement, which eased his mind about sending her. "Okay, sweetheart, I'll walk you over." "Just look for a slightly smaller version of Bill, and you'll find Matt. I doubt you'll be able to miss him," instructed Charlie. He nodded his thanks and told Jason to wait with Adam and his Uncle Mulder. The little boy didn't argue, as he was looking forward to going on the giant trampoline inside the KiddieGym. As he watched Richard walk Rachael over to the arcade, Mulder noted, "Walter's not here yet, huh?" Just then, like a knight in shining armor, Walter pulled up in the large, cream-colored, Cadillac. Ever since he'd rented one on the ill-fated Chicago trip that past December, he'd vowed to treat himself and his long legs when his lease was up on the Taurus. It was, he did, and he's been treating the car almost as if it were one of the grandkids ever since. "Hello, everyone," he called out. "Hi Jason and Little G-Man!" Bill looked at his mother's husband with surprise. "What's with the nickname?" he asked with annoyance. It was bad enough his sister insisted upon subjecting herself to potential danger all of the time, but to glorify it and encourage his young, impressionable, nephew was almost too much. "Oh, Adam went and earned the title when he helped his mother and me locate his Daddy last December. It was a scary time, wasn't it Little G-man, but you came through with flying colors!" "I remember hearing something about that," Charlie said, "but Mom never did go into too much detail on exactly how they found you." Mulder smiled slightly at his father-in-law and son. Since it was his long, deceased, grandmother, Nana, who supplied most of the information while she appeared in her apparition's form to Adam, it wasn't surprising to him that Maggie wouldn't go into great detail with her sons. "Let's just say it was the miracle of the holiday seasons and leave it at that," interjected Walter with a smile. Then looking at Mulder, he asked, "How's the leg?" Mulder automatically flexed his leg, the one that was broken in two places during that same horrible experience, and replied, "Good as new. I had my final follow-up checkup yesterday, as a matter of fact." Upon seeing the smirk on Skinner's face, he responded in kind, "Oh, I guess you knew about that, huh?" "That's why I was asking," agreed Skinner. "Yeah, well, I've been given my walking papers. Literally and figuratively," replied Mulder with a very happy grin. "Daddy, now that Gam-pa's here, can we go in now?" asked a now impatient Adam. Though Adam was now a very mature six-year-old, the toddler nicknames for his grandparents had stuck. Even his best friends, Jason and Rachael Goldfarb, still referred to Walter and Maggie Skinner as Gam-pa and Gam-ma. "Sure," answered Walter, "but I just need to run over to the bank for a minute. I didn't have a chance to do it this morning. From what I understand, KiddieGyms do not come cheaply, and my wife has informed me this is supposed to be on us, so put your wallets away boys, and I'll be back in two minutes. Adam, can you hold out just a couple of more minutes while I run over there to use the ATM?" The little boy nodded, and turned to his baby sister, baby cousins, and best buddy, Jason. "Well guys, looks like we gotta hold out a little bit longer." Caitlin, Charlie's youngest daughter, squealed in delight at the sudden attention her big cousin suddenly paid her, and little John quickly joined in the toddler chatter. Dawn continued to look around with her huge blue eyes, the only trait that reminded everyone she was Scully's daughter. Otherwise, she was the spitting image of Samantha Mulder at that age. The men stood about interacting more with the children than with one another, when Richard returned from one direction and Walter from the other. "You were right, it wasn't hard to figure out which were the Scully brood at all," said Richard chuckling. "I've never seen so many red heads in one room before." "Oh, nice to see you Richard," greeted Skinner as he offered his hand in friendship. "Same here, Walter. Are we good to go?" he responded wth a shake of his hand. Walter nodded and then led the group into the KiddieGym. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End of Part 1/5 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Life Cycles 17: The Bonding By Susan Proto (STPteach@aol.com) Disclaimers in part 0/5 Part 2/5 After giving their fathers a perfunctory tour of the KiddieGym areas, the boys immediately gravitated toward the huge trampoline. Mulder had never brought Adam to the KiddieGym before, but Dana had been there in the past with Leslie Goldfarb and Jason. Mulder was impressed with the number of staff employed to ensure the safety of the children. While he remained with Dawn in the baby/toddler section, Richard followed the boys over to the trampoline. Adam and Jason stood in their place and waited for their turn on the trampoline. They'd already informed the KiddieGym helper they wanted to go on together if that were possible. Linda, the staff member, assured the boys it was, and it wouldn't be too much longer before they had their turn. The little guys couldn't contain themselves any longer and jumped up and down in glee over that great news. They were high-fiving Richard and giggling happily. Mulder looked over immediately from the toddler section, as he was able to pick out his son's laughter from anywhere. Charlie and Bill, who were standing nearby with their toddlers as well, followed Mulder's line of sight as well. Charlie was the first to remark, ''It's nice Adam has such a good friend. Jason seems to be a good kid." "He is, Charlie. Adam's a lucky guy. Hell, we're all lucky to still have Jason in our lives," Mulder said. "Oh, jeeze! That's the little boy who had leukemia, right?" remembered Charlie, to which Mulder nodded in the affirmative. "Leukemia? Who had leukemia? How come you knew and I didn't," asked Bill in a perturbed tone. "I guess it slipped Dana's mind," responded Charlie. Mulder wisely kept quiet. He was never quite able to keep up on the Scully family dynamics, and so he was never absolutely sure when Bill was or was not in the good graces of his brother and sister. He didn't feel it all that necessary to try and find out either. "Hey? Where's Walter?" asked Mulder. "Oh, he said he wanted to check up on the older kids to make sure they were okay. Actually, I think he wanted to go make another withdrawal from the cash machine. He said something about pizzas and ice creams costing a whole lot more now than when he was a kid," chuckled Charlie. Even Bill smiled at that one. The men sat about in a more comfortable silence as they watched their little ones play with the various, soft, foam, geometric shapes that were strewn about the gymnastics mats. The children were enjoying themselves, and after a while, Mulder noticed that Adam and Jason were finally getting their chance on the tramp. Mulder looked like he was watching a tennis match as he turned his gaze from his daughter to his son, and then back again, until Charlie finally said, "Mulder, I'll watch Dawn. Go check out my Godson!" He didn't have to tell Mulder twice. Mulder thanked him and raced over to the trampoline for a better vantage point. Just then, Charlie looked up and heard his niece, Meghan, call out to him. "There, I told you he'd be here, Allie," said the youngster in the same exasperated tone her older brother was heard to affect. "Daddy," cried out the four-year-old as she raced towards Charlie's arms. "It's drippy. Make it stop doing drips!" she whined. Charlie understood immediately what the problem was. Apparently the children got ice cream cones, but the older kids didn't consider the 'drip factor' as it pertained to four-year-olds. As if she were reading his mind, Meghan spoke up, "Uncle Charlie, we wanted to get her a cup, but everyone else was getting cones, and she insisted upon getting a cone like everyone else. Then when it started to drip, she insisted upon coming back to you so you could make it stop dripping. Devan wanted to lick it around for her, but Allie would have none of that," explained Meghan with a roll of her eyes. The child was obviously aggravated at having been designated by big brother, Matthew, to leave the arcade and accompany the little girl back to the gym. "I guess you didn't want your big brother to get more ice cream than you, right Little Miss?" asked Charlie knowingly. "But you're the only one who knows how to do it right, Daddy," she said coyly. Her wise father snagged her, but she wasn't about to admit it, even at the tender age of four. Charlie took the cone from his middle child, and watched her smile sweetly while he attempted to clean up the drips. He licked around the edges of the cone and then around the top. As licked, he felt his tongue lap up a small, harder material, and he wondered what it was. He'd assumed the flavor was vanilla. "Allison, what kind of ice cream is this?" asked Charlie curiously. "I don't know, Daddy. Matty bought 'em for us," she replied innocently. Charlie looked at the ice cream more carefully, but the fact it was covered in rainbow sprinkles made it difficult for him to determine what the actual flavor was. "Meghan, what flavor did Matthew buy for Allie?" he asked. "The same flavor he got for everyone else. The one and only flavor he always gets. God forbid anyone else doesn't like cherry vanilla; doesn't matter to him. If he likes it, everyone likes it!" complained the miniature likeness of her mother, Tara. "What did you say?" asked Charlie with a little more force than he would have liked, but if she'd said what he thought she'd said__. "He only buys what he likes, Uncle Charlie!" "But what flavor, Meggie?" "Oh. Cherry vanilla," was her reply. "Oh, no," Charlie gasped out. "What's wrong, Uncle Charlie? Can't Allison eat cherry vanilla ice cream?" asked the youngster nervously. "Yeah, she can." He paused for a moment, which caused Meghan to breathe a sigh of relief. "It's me that can't." "What?" asked the child anxiously. "What did you say?" She noticed her uncle began to look odd, and Meghan called out to her father quickly, "Daddy! Daddy, help! Something's wrong with Uncle Charlie!" "Daddy!! Daddy!" cried out little Allison who began to cry when she saw how nervous her big cousin had become. "What? What's wrong?" asked Bill. "Uncle Charlie's sick. He said he can't have the ice cream." "What ice cream? Meghan, what are you talking about?" Bill asked anxiously, as he noted his brother's pallor was slightly flushed. "John got us cherry vanilla and Charlie licked some of Allison's cone," Meghan explained. "Charlie," he said to his brother anxiously, "what's wrong? I don't understand!" Bill began to shake Charlie a bit as he noticed the younger man begin to look faint. He suddenly felt someone at his side, and Bill felt his own body go taut. "Get the hell away from us," Bill said through clenched teeth. "Bill, stop. Get him down on the ground before he falls down," Mulder pleaded. As he grasped Charlie's arms to help lay him down, he felt himself shoved a bit. "I'll take care of my brother, Mulder. Get the hell away from him," Bill ordered. "Damn it, Bill, you can't blame this on me. Please, let me help," Mulder begged. Bill looked at Mulder and then at his brother. He noticed some red bumps on Charlie's arms and neck. Something was definitely wrong, only Bill didn't have a clue as to what. He also noticed Charlie was definitely having some difficulty breathing which caused him to become more panicky and gruff with Mulder. "Every time I'm in the same room with you, something happens. Get the fuck away from brother," he yelled. "Daddy? Daddy, what's wrong?" cried out young Allison, which immediately brought Bill back to his senses. "I'm not sure honey, but we're going to find out. I promise. Daddy's going to be okay, really," Bill comforted. Mulder was already on his cell calling for an ambulance. He didn't like the looks of his brother-in-law. He, himself, had experienced one too many asthma attacks as a child, and on a rare occasion or two, as an adult. This wasn't an ordinary asthma attack. This was a reaction to something. "Is Charlie allergic to anything?" asked Mulder when he'd finished speaking with the 911 operator. "An ambulance is coming right away, but they'll want to know." "No," said Bill quickly. "He's not allergic to anything that I know about." "But Dad?" Meghan interrupted. "Dad, Uncle Charlie said he couldn't have Allie's ice cream." "What's the flavor?" asked Mulder. When the child responded, Mulder looked over at Bill. "Is he allergic to cherries, Bill? Think! This could be important!" Bill was trying to remember, but he really couldn't. He never knew Charlie to be allergic to anything, but since he was away so often, it was possible he'd never been privy to the information. "I don't know, Mulder. I never knew him to be," Bill said worriedly. He looked at his little brother and was becoming more and more concerned; enough so he wasn't even feeling antagonistic towards his brother-in-law. "Try calling Dana," he suggested. "She's in touch with Charlie a whole lot more than me, and besides, Mom and Karen would certainly know." Mulder hit the speed dial for Scully's cellular and waited for her to pick up. He knew, even though it was a girl's day out, she'd never turn off the cellular in case there was an emergency regarding the children. "Scully." "It's me." "What's wrong? The baby? Adam?" she asked anxiously. "The kids are fine. It's Charlie. Scully, he seems to be having an allergic reaction." "Cherries," she replied immediately. "He developed a horrific allergy to cherries a few years back," Scully said knowingly. Mulder turned to Bill and repeated what Scully said. "Does he carry an Epipen with him?" he asked. He heard Scully ask Karen, and she said no, that he just knew to stay away from cherries. "Shit, Dane. He didn't know this time." He went on to explain what had happened and then assured her an ambulance was already on the way. "No, he's still able to breathe." Dana instructed Mulder to check her brother's pulse, to which Mulder reported, "It's fast, Dane. I wish the damned ambulance would get here." Allison was crying uncontrollably now, and Meghan was desperately trying to calm her down. A couple of the KiddieGym's staff members quickly came over to take charge of the smaller children. Adam and Jason came back over with Richard, who watched the scene with growing concern. Bill remained kneeled by his brother's side, trying to offer comfort, but was actually mutely berating himself for not knowing his brother was allergic to cherries. He knew Matthew never bought anything but cherry vanilla ice cream. It was one of his son's little quirks which had never mattered up until this moment. Damn it. He couldn't blame Mulder for this failing; he could only blame himself. Mulder continued to speak with Scully and attempted to keep her abreast of Charlie's condition. As much as she wanted to, she didn't come rushing out to the KiddieGym for fear they'd lose the cell connection, and then she'd have to guess which hospital they'd bring Charlie. It made more sense for her to simply stay put for the moment. Suddenly, there was a large commotion as the doors crashed open at the entrance. Mulder assumed it was the ambulance, as he thought he'd heard sirens in the distance. When he looked up, however, he didn't see the paramedics he'd hoped for. Rather, he saw a trio of men. On the left was a tall, but very thin man, between the ages of twenty-five and thirty-five. He had long, blond hair, which he wore in dreadlocks. He wore a brightly colored, orange, yellow, and teal blue Hawaiian shirt with blue jeans. On the right was also a tall man, but he was much more muscular. He obviously worked out, and even more obviously, was proud of his body, as he wore a very skimpy muscle tee shirt. In lieu of slacks, he wore very short running shorts, which showed off his muscular calves. The man's head was shaved, but he did sport a brown mustache and small goatee. The one on the left sported a large Smith & Wesson automatic pistol. The one on the right was holding an automatic machine gun. They were both pointing it at the equally tall man who walked between them. Walter Skinner. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End of Part 2/5 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Life Cycles 17: The Bonding By Susan Proto (STPteach@aol.com) Disclaimers in part 0/5 Part 3/5 Walter had stopped by the arcade first. He'd made a promise to Maggie he'd try his best to get acquainted with the older Scully grandchildren, so he made it his business to touch base with them before going back to the bank. He talked a little with Matthew about the latest video games, and was rather pleased that he didn't prove to be a total ignoramus in the pre-teen's eyes. Skinner was familiar with many computer games and discovered many of those games either originated in the arcade or visa versa. Matthew was most impressed to discover Walter was a master of the computer game, "Doom." Shortly after, Devan, approached Matt and Walter to suggest they go for some ice cream cones. He complained of some hunger pangs, but rightly figured the others weren't quite ready for pizza. Since Walter wanted to make this a memorable day for the kids (as well as for Maggie and himself,) he handed Matthew two twenties to cover ice cream for the older kids and a few more rounds of games at the arcade. Walter left for the bank while Matt and Devan rounded up Meghan, Allison, and Rachael. That had been Walter's first mistake. First, he went to the ATM machine in hope of withdrawing another couple of hundred dollars. He hadn't counted on maxing out his ATM withdrawal privileges so quickly, but then Walter realized it shouldn't have surprised him. Five hundred dollar per week withdrawal limits were easily reached when your wife was treating all of her daughters (natural, married, and adopted) to lunch, and you were trying to buy the admiration of a crew of prepubescent youngsters (and their fathers) with video games, ice cream, and pizza. Walter sighed when he realized he'd have to go into the bank to cash a check. He sighed even more deeply when he saw the long line of people who were waiting their turn to see the tellers. He entered the bank anyway. That had been Walter's second mistake. When he entered his FBI sixth sense kicked in. Something was wrong, though he wasn't sure as to exactly what that was. Walter looked around; he carefully observed the people in front of him and sensed fear in them. *What were they afraid of?* he wondered silently. His eyes tracked their collective gaze, first from himself and then to another who stood off to the side of the teller's entrance. He focused immediately on the subject of his fellow bankers' fears. The man before him didn't even look threatening in his loud, boldly printed cotton shirt. His hair was unusually styled for a blonde, Caucasian, but certainly not unheard of. No, it wasn't the man, but what the man had held in his hands. Guns usually brought the fear out in people, but instinct tended to kick in when it was needed; that's what happened to Walter Skinner. He looked around for any accomplices and didn't see any. The innocent bystanders stood either in back of him or to his right. The only visibly, threatening person in his direct line of sight was the tall, thin, obviously fashion-challenged, white male. Walter had no doubt that he'd be able to take the guy out. "Freeze! Federal Agent! Put down your weapon!" he shouted out in his most authoritative, FBI voice. That had been Walter's third mistake. Before Walter had time to react, he heard the rat-tat-tat of an automatic weapon, which came from just beyond the teller's window directly in front of him. As he instinctively dropped to the ground, along with the other bank customers, he heard a voice scream out, "You shmuck! What the hell are you doing?" The AD felt a sudden pressure on his hands, which, miraculously, still tightly grasped his weapon. When he took the time to look, Skinner realized it was the foot of the second perp that was leaning heavily on his hands. Suddenly, that foot raised and then, even more suddenly, stomped down on Skinner's hands. Hard. Very hard. This caused Walter to loosen his grasp and the gun to skitter across the floor. All the while, he clenched his jaw in an attempt to silently endure the pain. Shortly after, the AD heard a voice that demanded he get up. It took Skinner a moment to process everything; he was sure his hands were a jumble of broken bones and felt the pain to prove it. "Get up, Mr. FBI agent," the gravely voice ordered again. Walter began moving, albeit slowly, since he wasn't able to use his hands to gain leverage to right himself. That, however, wasn't good enough for the newly arrived perpetrator. Walter was gruffly hauled up to a standing position. When the stars of pain finally dissipated from his eyes, Walter was able to make a closer observation of the second partner in crime. He was obviously a man who knew how to train his body, and train it he had. As someone who always took pride in keeping fit and in shape, Walter couldn't help but be impressed with the guy's physique. He was more impressed, however, with what the man held in his hands. Machine gun. Big, powerful, machine gun. And Walter feared that weapon made Mr. Universe feel omnipotent and immortal. And if that were the case, Skinner felt he had good reason to be fearful, which in and of itself was a bit unique. Not that it wasn't unusual for Walter Skinner to fear for others; his stepdaughter and son-in-law gave him way too much practice in that department. It had been, however, a long time since he felt any fear for himself. Several minutes passed, and then Walter was sure he heard them in the distance. Sirens. He wondered if the others heard them too. He hoped they didn't, for every minute that passed without them noticing, the closer the backup would be. "SHIT! We gotta get out of here!" the Don Ho wannabe shouted. "What? But we didn't even get ___," responded Adonis. "__Sirens. It don't matter! We gotta get out of here. NOW!" the partner who was obviously in charge demanded. "Let's take insurance," All Brawn, No Brains suggested. "NO! Let's just go!" He then stood there and gave directions to the several witnesses who remained on the floor of the bank. "Don't move. If I see anyone of you move so much as a pinkie, I will direct my trigger happy friend to start mowing you down like dandelions on a lawn. Do you understand?" Next, he looked at the tellers and reminded them it was not a good idea to trip the silent alarm; certainly not while he and his partner were still available to silence them. Just then, the sirens cry was much closer. "Let's go, now!" he directed his sculpted accomplice. The muscular one reacted immediately. "You, Mr. FBI agent! You will be our insurance policy. Let's go." "What the hell are you doing?" "We need a shield to get us to the damn car, Ray. C'mon, don't argue with me on this one. It makes sense!" "Shmuck, I told you not to call me__. All right," he acquiesced in an attempt to appease his friend. "C'mon, grab him and let's get the hell out of here. I don't want no trouble." The Terminator clasped his hand around Skinner's upper arm, not an easy feat for just anyone considering how muscular Skinner's upper body was. But Muscle Man did it easily. And as he placed both a strong hand around his arm and a cold, unequivocally dispassionate machine gun pointed at his head, Walter Skinner went willingly. That had been Walter's fourth mistake. As they walked outside, the trio moved briskly toward Ray's Toyota. Unfortunately, as they got closer, so did the sirens. When they looked up, they noted an ambulance and a police car or two coming closer and closer. The two robbers panicked and hastily dragged their human shield into the shelter closest to their car, the KiddieGym. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Shit! You idiot! This place is filled with kids!" said Ray as he immediately bolted the doors and wedged them with chairs. "Damn it, this is _not_ the way it was supposed to happen. Shit!" "Why don't you just leave?" asked Walter as calmly as possible. He remained in a great deal of pain, as his hands throbbed and began to swell, but he was desperate to keep his family and the rest of the young clientele safe. "Right," answered the larger perp. "We can just leave, and you, Mr. FBI, won't say a thing, right?" "Arnold, shut up already!" called out Ray in disgust. "I gotta think!" "Your name is Arnold? You've got to be kidding?" said Walter sardonically. "You say 'I'll be back' and I will shoot you, you know?" retorted Arnold. "Right. No Schwartzenager impersonations. Got it," replied Walter, who suddenly felt very cold and weary. "I'm going into shock, guys. You better set me down before I fall down," he said as his teeth chattered. He sat down in a heap, directly across from his stepsons and son-in-law. "Shock? Walter? What's wrong?" asked Richard with concern, while at the same time Mulder hissed out loud at Richard's obvious faux pas. "Oh, great, are you an FBI Agent too?" asked Arnold angrily. "No, but my Daddy is," cried out Adam impulsively. "Adam, no__," called out Walter weakly. "But he is, Gam-pa!" The child couldn't understand what the problem was. These were bad guys. His grandfather and his father were the good guys. Good guys always get the bad guys. The child wanted to respond, but Richard, who realized his error, quickly rushed over and picked Adam up. "Shh, Adam. It's going to be fine," he whispered as he placed the youngster behind him next to Jason and the toddlers. "Oh, Jesus, help him!" Bill's voice suddenly rang out loudly, as Charlie's breathing became more and more labored. His arms and chest were now an angry red color, and his lips appeared to be swollen. "Now what?!" asked Ray angrily. "I don't fucking believe this! All I wanted to do was hit a bank, and I get a fucking hospital zone in kiddy land!" He then looked more closely at Charles. "What the hell is wrong with him?" Mulder looked first at his father-in-law, who was not in any imminent danger, and immediately tended to his fallen brother-in-law. He checked his pulse again, and then informed Scully, who was still holding on the cell, that Charlie's pulse was more rapid than before. He described the other symptoms as well, to which Scully ordered Mulder to get the fucking EMT's to administer adrenaline as soon as possible. Mulder looked up at the two men who stood overlooking them. "I need to get the paramedics in here. You've got to open the doors so they can give him medication. Please." "We're not opening up any fucking doors," declared Arnold. "Not until we figure out how we're gonna get out of here." He paused momentarily and then looked at his partner. "So, Ray, how do we get the hell out of here?" "How the fuck should I know that, Arnold? You're the one who started firing your damn toy and making us take a God damned FBI Agent hostage! So, I'm not exactly sure how we get the hell out of here, but I'm sure open to suggestions!" babbled Ray. "He's losing consciousness, Mulder!" cried out Bill. Mulder immediately turned his attention back to Charlie, who was having more and more difficulty breathing. "Please, he needs adrenaline. He'll stop breathing if he doesn't get the adrenaline." "Daddy? What's wrong, Daddy? Wake up! You gotta wake up!" cried out young Allison who was becoming more and more hysterical as she watched her father struggle to breathe. Scully winced on the other end of the line as she was able to pick up the cries of her niece. She was still unsure as to what the delay was in the arrival of the EMTs. She heard shouting, but she was not positive as to what it was all about. She asked Mulder, a couple of times, to explain what the commotion was all about, but he ignored her pleas both times. However, now Karen Scully was starting to panic, and Scully felt it imperative to put her mind, as well as her own and her mother's mind, at ease. "Mulder, where are the EMTs? Why aren't they administering the adrenaline yet?" "Scully, we have a problem." He went on to explain, as quietly and as quickly as possible, the predicament they were all in. When he'd finished, he said softly, "Do you mind if I say I told you so?" "Oh, Mulder," she whispered back. "SHIT! Scully, he's not breathing. What do I do? He's not breathing!" "Mulder, do you have your pocketknife?" "Yes." "Take it out and listen to me very, very carefully," ordered Scully with a slightly tremulous voice. "Okay," replied Mulder. "I've got it out." "Now, find a plastic tube of some kind," she directed. "A straw?" he asked. "Yes, that will work. Now, Mulder, listen very carefully and do exactly what I tell you to do, okay?" "Scully, you're making me nervous here," replied Mulder honestly. "I know, sweetheart, but I want you to give the phone to Bill, because you're going to need both hands. He'll relay my instructions to you." "Okay," Mulder answered as he handed the cell phone over to Bill. "She wants you to relay the instructions." Bill took the phone from him with a curious expression on his face. He couldn't imagine what he could do to help his brother, and he certainly didn't know what Mulder could do for him. He put the phone to his ear and said hello. Bill listened for a few moments and then screamed, "You want him to do WHAT?!" Everyone, including Mulder and the perpetrators jumped at that. "What, Bill. C'mon, he's turning blue here!" "She wants you to perform a tracheotomy," Bill said though clenched teeth. "She says you've watched her do it before." He held the phone to his ear. "Yeah, I'll tell him. Remember? In Florida? The water creature?" "Yes, tell her I remember," he replied anxiously. His eidetic memory kicked in, but it didn't make him any surer of his ability to perform the surgical procedure. "What do I do?" And she gave the instructions to Bill who, in turn, relayed them to Mulder. "She says to make the cut between the Adam's apple and the collar bone. You're gonna cut through the thryroid gland, but that's okay. Then you gotta make a window__, oh, that's a vertical cut in the trachea itself. After you do that, you gotta stick the straw into the hole so he can breathe through it." Bill watched Mulder as he'd relayed the instructions. He then waited for the man to do something with the knife. "Mulder, what the hell are you waiting for?" Bill demanded. "He can't breathe!" Mulder nodded and tried desperately to steady his trembling hand. This was Charlie, for God's sake. He didn't think he'd have half as hard of a time if it was Billy, but it wasn't; it was Charlie. Shit. He liked Charlie. Which is why he had to take a deep breath and do as Scully instructed. He made the small cut and separated the thyroid gland from the trachea. He then made the vertical cut and immediately inserted the straw through the opening. He watched as the skin seemed to close right around the straw, and held his breath. "C'mon, Charlie. Breathe, or your brother is going to kill me," Mulder urged in little more than a whisper. Without warning, Charlie's chest moved, and Mulder realized he'd actually done something right. If Mulder thought his hands were shaking before, he hadn't seen anything yet. He felt his whole body shudder in reaction to what he'd just accomplished. "Dee!" Billy shouted into the phone, using the nickname he and his sister had come up with when she'd deemed Starbuck unsuitable. "He's breathing, Dee! Mulder did it!" And then, as if awestruck, Bill looked at his brother- in-law and repeated the words breathlessly, "He did it." He nodded to his listener, though of course she couldn't see his response, and handed Mulder the phone. "How's he doing, Doctor Fox?" "Oh, God. He's breathing," he said in disbelief, and then added with great emotion, "and Dane, I don't want to ever have to do that again." "Now you know why I prefer to work on dead people," she deadpanned. "But he still needs to get to the hospital. He's not out of the woods yet," she reminded. He whispered his response, "I'm trying, Dane. God, I'm trying. But these clowns don't seem to have a clue as to how to get themselves out of this mess, and there's so many children here. We can't take any chances." "Ohmigod, the children!" cried out Dana, for it was the first time she'd allowed herself to remember the children, _her_ children, were with Mulder and the guys. "Are they okay?" "Yes, Dane. The kids are fine. Believe me. I don't think these guys want to hurt them, or anyone for that matter. Well, except for the Body Beautiful over there; he seems to be a little jittery. I think they broke Walter's hands, Dane. He looks a little shocky." Husband and wife continued to talk in whispered tones about the situation. Neither wanted to take unnecessary chances with all of the children and civilians in the area, as well as the two injured adults. They felt it was safest to bide their time. Now, if only the local PD were as patient. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End of Part 3/5 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ From: To: Cc: ; ; Subject: New! Life Cycles 17: The Bonding 4 of 5 Date: Friday, August 06, 1999 4:57 PM Life Cycles 17: The Bonding By Susan Proto (STPteach@aol.com) Disclaimers in Part 0/5 Part 4/5 Mulder continued to give updates to Scully on Charlie's condition; that is until Arnold decided the agent was on the phone way longer than necessary. He stomped over to where Mulder was sitting next to Charlie, which caused Skinner to startle a bit. His throbbing hands reminded him exactly what harm the big man was capable of causing. "Give me that!" he yelled as he grabbed the phone right out of his hand. "Who the fuck you talkin' to all this time?" "A doctor," Mulder replied quickly. "NO! Don't__!" Mulder shouted as he saw Arnold about to throw the phone down on the ground in anger. "Arnie! NO!" agreed Ray, sternly enough that Arnold obeyed. "Give me that." Reluctantly, Arnold handed the cellular over to Ray who quickly cut off the line to Scully. "This could work to our advantage," said Ray. "We could call in the media." "Yeah, and we could all the T.V. reporters too," commented Arnold. "Good, Arnie, very good," Ray said sarcastically. "Television is the fucking media, you moron!" He rolled his eyes and watched Arnie shrink a bit before everyone's eyes. "So, which station should we call?" "None," interjected Skinner. "None?" echoed Ray with surprise. "You call in the media, then you call in that many more cops for crowd control. You'll have a circus out there. You'd never get out," explained Skinner. He shifted a bit in an attempt to find a more comfortable position to support his swollen hands, but he wasn't terribly successful. "Your best bet," he continued, as he gritted his teeth through the pain, "is to keep this as low key as possible. In fact, given the fact that I'm sure by now you've got a shitload of law enforcement out there anyway, you should probably offer a good faith gesture." "Good faith gesture?" repeated Ray. "Bullshit," retorted Arnold. "Shaddup, Arnie," admonished Ray, who was getting more and more anxious as time passed. He was becoming increasingly worried about Arnie's stability. He loved his friend like a brother, but like all brothers, they didn't always agree on how to handle things. Ray thought Arnie reacted too impulsively to situations, while Arnie thought Ray spent too much time thinking and not acting. Ray was doing a lot of thinking at that point. He looked at Skinner and gave his advice some serious thought. "Ya think this would get Arnie and me out of here?" "Yeah," said Skinner. "What should we do?" asked Ray. "Let the children go." "No! No fuckin' way!" Arnie interrupted. "And," continued Skinner stubbornly, "let the sick guy over there go to the hospital. Shit, you got yourself an FBI agent here to negotiate with. You don't even need the others as a shield. You got me. That's enough," cajoled Skinner. "Boy, aren't you full of yourself," crowed Arnold. "I mean, what the fuck makes you think you're so damned important that you'd be worth all these people?" Mulder looked at Skinner quickly and made eye contact with him briefly. Mulder knew his father-in-law was about to give himself up for the rest of them. *Don't do it, Dad. Don't do it,* he said with his eyes. He knew Walter understood. Mulder also knew it didn't make a difference. Walter blinked and kept his eyes closed for a millisecond longer than necessary. He wanted Mulder to understand he'd 'heard' him, but that, no, that didn't matter. "I'm not just an FBI agent. I'm an Assistant Director of the FBI," Walter confessed. As Ray and Arnie's jaws practically dropped to the floor, Mulder's shoulders slumped slightly. He couldn't let his father-in-law take this all upon himself, especially since the man was injured. "He's right you know. I mean about the gesture. Let this guy go and let the kids go. You don't need them to bargain with. You got the Assistant Director," Mulder said and hesitated for only a second before he said, "and you can have me." "Shit," Skinner muttered. "Oh, so you're an Assistant Director, too?" asked Ray. "No," Mulder said, and then muttered under his breath, "not in this lifetime anyway." He took a breath before he quietly admitted, "I'm an agent, just an agent." Ray nodded in acknowledgment of that bit of news and then stretched his neck in an attempt to get a view outside of the kiddiegym. "Hey, kid," Ray next said, as he looked at Meghan, "go over and look outside the window and tell me what you see." Meghan looked at her father, and Bill in turn looked at, of all people, Mulder. When Mulder nodded his assent Bill did the same, and Meghan walked slowly over to the window. She looked out and said, "I see an ambulance and police cars." "How many police cars?" asked Ray. "I think there's three, no, wait. There's four. One of them is halfway around the corner." "Four. Well, that don't seem so bad, Ray," remarked Arnold. "We could blast our way out against four police cars easily." "Wait, no! You don't want to do that," argued Mulder vehemently. He paused momentarily to collect himself and then explained in an even, now authoritative tone, "You don't know how many cruisers they have hiding around the corner. You don't know if there's a SWAT van around the corner and this place is surrounded. Mulder wasn't sure if he was getting through. He knew he had to be careful; he didn't want them to think they weren't still in control, but he didn't want to hand over any control he and the AD may have established to this point either. He knew he had to walk a very fine line to be convincing, yet not to domineering. "Look," Mulder continued, "show them you don't mean anyone harm. Show them good faith. Let the children and the rest of these people go. Let this man go to the hospital. The AD and I will stay," Mulder negotiated in an eerily calm voice. Ray became pensive as he seriously considered Mulder's words. He hadn't planned on getting anyone hurt. The fact that the most seriously injured person was someone who had nothing to do with the robbery was actually something in his and Arnie's favor. The AD's injuries, though painful, at least weren't life threatening. Shit, they'd never even gotten their hands on the damn money. Maybe he could get out of this okay. Maybe this guy was right. Now, if he could just convince Quick-Draw McGraw. "Arnie, he's right. We gotta let the kids go. And him too," announced Ray. "You gotta be kidding, Ray. No way we can let these guys go. We need them to get us out, Ray. We need them!" Ray stood there and silently shook his head, knowing Arnie would never override his decision. Though Arnie was always the physical strength in their relationship, both men knew it was Ray who was the brains. Arnie may not have always agreed with Ray's decision, but he'd always trusted him. He waited a few minutes and then directed loudly enough for everyone to hear, "I want the people who work here to round up the kids and parents and line up by the door, single file. We're letting you all go. Oh, and him too. He can go to the hospital." He quickly instructed some of the staff members to open the door a crack and let the cops know that the children, their parents, and the staff were being sent out. Also, they were to notify the paramedics that the injured man was coming out too. "But tell 'em we still got two Fibbies inside here with us," Ray reminded. Mulder let out a sigh of relief. Maybe this was going to work out all right. Suddenly he heard something that caused him to startle. Dawn was crying. His baby girl was crying for him. "Da_, Da_," she called out. Mulder was beside himself. He wanted nothing more than to pick the child up, but he was afraid if he did, they wouldn't let her go, given the fact he'd agreed to stay himself. Finally, he did the only thing he could think of doing. "Richard, pick up all of your kids and get them out of here. Now." Richard understood and reacted immediately. He swooped up Dawn and attempted to soothe her as best he could. "Shh, Daddy's here, Dawn. I know, baby girl, your Daddy's here." It wasn't a lie, and Richard's soft cooing calmed the toddler. But Mulder knew he wasn't out of the woods yet. He faced Adam. "Adam, you need to go with your sister. You need to watch her, you know." "But__." The child paused. He wanted to be his Daddy's backup, but he knew it would have to be from the outside. He'd help watch his sister. He wanted to stay with his dad and his grandfather, but even he realized, at the tender age of six, that wouldn't be wise or practical. He'd have to wait another day to be a real G-Man. Besides, he could be his mom's backup, because Adam was positive she was going to be outside waiting for them. She always was when his daddy was in trouble. "C'mon, boys," Richard said to both Adam and his own son, Jason. As they began to leave, Adam faced away from the perpetrators and looked directly at his father and mouthed the words, "I love you, Daddy." Mulder, with tears threatening, returned the message in kind. He watched as Richard carried Dawn and led both Adam and Jason outside. A staff member carried baby John, while Meghan carried little Caitlin. She also held Allison's hand tightly as they followed Richard and the others to the outside. "Bill, you'd better go and get Charlie out of here," Mulder said softly. "What?" Bill asked amazed. He hadn't figured on leaving too. He figured the EMTs would come in, get Charlie, and he would then stay with his stepfather and brother-in-law. "Bill, you've got to go with Charlie. They'll need a history, and you can provide it. Besides," Mulder added with a slight hitch to his voice, "the kids need you." "But, what about you and Walter?" Bill whispered. "We'll be fine, Bill. Hey, it's what we do, remember?" Mulder said with a hint of a wry smile. "Now get Charlie to the hospital, before they change their minds. Go. Please, go," he pleaded. Bill looked quickly over at his stepfather, who nodded in mute agreement with Mulder's directions. The eldest Scully brother then stood up and, with some effort, picked up his semi-conscious brother off of the floor. He and Charlie were the last ones to leave the building. The door slammed shut tightly behind them and was jammed with a chair to keep it closed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The paramedics immediately ran up to Bill with a gurney and helped him lay Charlie down so they could attend to him. Next, hoards of news reporters surrounded him, all the while pushing microphones into his face. Bill heard question upon question being hurled at him, but all he really cared about at the moment was getting his brother the medical help he so badly needed and then checking with his kids to make sure they were all alright. Finally, he knew he'd eventually have to face his mother and sister. He prayed he'd have something positive to tell them. However, before he could do any of those things, the police barged through the barrage of reporters and herded Bill Scully out of the throngs of newsmongers to get the details of what was going on inside. Bill attempted to give them as much detail as possible. Yes, there were two suspects. Yes, they were both armed. No, they didn't seem to really want to hurt anyone; they let us go didn't they? Yes, they still held two hostages. Yes, one was an Assistant Director and the other a Special Agent for the FBI. Yes, the AD was injured, but no, the Special Agent was not. Yes, they had a cell phone in their possession, and yes, he could get the number. "Give me a phone so I can call my sister," Bill requested. "Your sister?" asked a cop curiously. "She's an FBI agent too. She's married to the agent inside," Bill explained, and then further revealed, "Oh, and the AD? He's my stepfather, so you'd better make sure you do everything you can to get them out of there in one piece, understand?" Bill's expression was one that screamed he wasn't to be screwed with. Though the OIC, officer in charge, Derek Smithson, maintained a neutral expression, he thought to himself that no one was going to fuck with him either, or, for that matter, _his_ decisions regarding procedures. No one. He didn't give a damn if the whole fucking Federal Bureau of Investigation was holed up in that building with the two perps. "Get the SWAT teams in place. We're going to take these guys down, now," the officer in charge announced. "SWAT teams?" Bill asked with concern. "Are you sure that's wise? I mean, I told you these guys didn't seem to want to hurt anybody; can't you negotiate with them a little bit first?" "We don't negotiate for the lives of law enforcement officers, Mr. Scully," the officer informed sternly. "What?" Bill was incredulous. "That's my stepfather and brother-in-law in there, you sonofabitch! Don't give me this crap that you don't negotiate for law enforcement!" "It's true, Billy," called out a strong, but distinctly feminine voice. "Dee?" Billy choked out when he saw Dana step quickly toward him. "What the hell are you talking about? Dee, that's Walter and Mulder in there!" "I know. But there is a policy against negotiating the release of Federal Agents," she reiterated, but then turned to the Officer in Charge and stated emphatically, "Which does not mean, Sir, that you simply throw the baby out with the bath water. You will first speak to these people to see if they can be reasoned with. Is that understood, Sir?" "Sure, Miss. Umm, may I ask, just who the hell are you?" Scully pulled out her FBI identification. "Special Agent Dana Scully," she said authoritatively. She'd been off child rearing leave for only a couple of months, and was grateful to have begun carrying both her badge and her weapon again. "Now, either you follow protocol, or I will take over as SAC. Do you understand?" Scully stated in no uncertain terms. "Yes, Ma'am. Of course." He turned toward Bill, and asked him to get hold of the cell phone number. He watched Bill turn toward Scully and she wrote the number down. "Here," Bill said. "This is the number." "I don't understand," the officer reacted with confusion.. "Special Agent Scully is my sister. It's _her_ husband who's holed up with our stepfather," Bill offered, and then almost as an afterthought, added, "I strongly suggest you don't fuck with her." "I'll take that under advisement," sneered Smithson. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Mother fucking little bitch," muttered the Officer in charge. "No fucking way I'm gonna let some little bitch from the Fucking FBI tell me what I can and can not do. Thinks she can challenge my authority and threaten me? Well, not in this lifetime little girl, not in this fucking lifetime! "Andrews, here's the cell number. Get through to them, now. I want to let the fibbies know what the plan is," he ordered. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!" cried out Arnold as he watched yet another police car pull up. "What the hell is going on, Ray? There's got to be at least eight police cruisers out there. What the hell are they all doing?" "Shut up, Arnie. They're surrounding the place. They're not going to let us go, are they?" asked Ray. Neither agent responded, but the shrill ringing of Mulder's cell phone broke the silence. Ray pushed the 'send' button and said, "Yeah." The officer at the other end asked who it was, and Ray identified himself. Minutes passed while Ray gave out some more information, including the fact that he and his buddy didn't want any trouble. All they wanted was to get away. They didn't do anything really bad; they made a dumb ass mistake, and all they wanted to do was get the hell out of there. "Sure, Ray. We understand that," stated Officer Andrews, who was acting under Smithson's orders. "Listen, could you put one of the agents on the line?" "Why?" "Just need to make sure they're okay, that's all," the officer responded. "They're fine, God damn it! I told you, we didn't want to hurt anybody; they're fine. The older one just hurt his hand a little, but the other one is okay." Ray was starting to feel agitated; he had the distinct feeling that he and Arnie were really not going to make it out of there without a fight. "Ray? What harm would it do to let me talk to them? It might calm them down, and prevent them from doing something impulsive. Please, Ray?" asked Mulder earnestly. "All right, but just for a minute, you understand?" Ray commanded. He handed Mulder the phone and watched him carefully. "Mulder." "Hold on, the OIC wants to talk to you," responded Andrews. "Okay, it's obvious these two are amateurs, aren't they," the Officer in Charge began rhetorically. OIC Smithson was pretty cocky at this point. He wasn't about to let _any_ fibbie run his show. "I mean the shmuck just hands the phone over to you." He heard Mulder grunt in agreement, albeit warily, with the OIC's assessment. "Okay, we've got the SWAT team in position. You and the AD need to keep down, so you don't get in our way." "No! No, Sir, I don't think you want to do that, Sir," Mulder responded, seething. "Just get down, Agent Mulder. We're coming in, and we're coming in now," repeated Smithson with smug satisfaction. Mulder stated, albeit more forcefully, "No! Sir, You don't need to do that." Ray grabbed the phone from Mulder and yelled, "What the fuck? What the fuck are they going to do?" Walter murmured, "What do the assholes have in mind, Mulder?" "They want to just come in with both barrels firing," Mulder replied incredulously. "They didn't ask my opinion on whether these two could be reasoned with; they just want to end it. Now." "And are they?" asked Walter wearily. The pain in his hands was now excruciating. "I don't know. I told them not to, but I don'__." But they did. And Mulder got yet another opportunity to say to his wife, 'I told you so'. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End of Part 4/5 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Life Cycles 17: The Bonding By Susan Proto (STPteach@aol.com) Disclaimers in 0/5 Part 5/5 Mulder didn't even have time to complete his sentence before all hell broke loose. The door, which had been locked and jammed tightly with a barricade of chairs, now splintered open with the arrival of the heavy utility truck that pushed directly through it. Mulder screamed for everyone to get down and stay down, but Arnold, the Macho Man of them all, simply froze in his place. Unfortunately for Arnie, he stood frozen with the automatic machine gun still in his hands. He wasn't going to shoot. Ray knew that. Even Mulder and Skinner knew that. The SWAT team members that followed the armored utility truck into the gym, however, did not know that. Ray saw the look in their eyes and then realized Arnie, his best friend in the whole world, the man who was as close to him as any brother could ever have been, stood like a deer caught in a car's bright headlights. Arnie didn't move; he couldn't move, and Ray knew if he didn't move, he'd be shot down deader than that stray yearling. Ray dropped his own weapon and literally kicked it toward AD, though that helped no one due to the swollen condition of Skinner's hands. Mulder had been unable to reach for his weapon until that moment, but now he was too busy trying to get the kinks out of his long, unused legs. He'd been sitting on the floor, in the same position, for almost two hours straight. Mulder found it difficult to stand up, much less reach for his gun and try to gain control of an uncontrollable situation. That's when Mulder realized what was going down. Ray was off and running towards Arnie, who remained in the direct line of fire of the SWAT team. As a result, Ray was now in harm's way as well. "Damn it, no!" Mulder screamed at anyone and everyone because of the injustice of it all. There wasn't any reason for it to have gotten to that point. There was no reason all four men weren't simply walking out of that place. Except for some overzealous, power hungry police officer who decided it was _his_ God damned show, and his show alone. Mulder finally stood and pushed himself forward towards Ray in a desperate attempt to block him and prevent more than one tragedy that afternoon. As Mulder crossed over and reached Ray, the sound of gunfire reverberated throughout the room. Arnie stood for but a second before he fell down in a heap like a tower of bricks that had the bottom shot out from under it. Mulder heard a scream and saw the total and complete anguish Ray's face held at the sight of losing his best friend. The force of Mulder's running caused him to continue moving until he fell heavily across and on top of Ray's body. Ray was still momentarily before he pushed Mulder off of him and scrambled out. He ran to Arnie's stilled body and gathered him up in his arms. He couldn't help himself. He never was the strong one, and so he cried inconsolably. Two of the uniformed team members walked over on each side of him and firmly pulled Ray up off the floor. When Ray rose, one of the men noted a goodly amount of blood on the front of Ray's shirt; too much to have just been Arnie's. "Where were you hit?" asked one of the officers. "Hit?" echoed Ray numbly. "I was hit?" "You got blood all over you, Mister," pointed out the younger of the officers. "Blood? Is Arnie dead?" Ray asked tonelessly as the officers hustled the now grief stricken perpetrator out of the building and to the paramedics. Throughout this, Skinner had been valiantly trying to figure out a way to make his hands work and put the weapon Ray had kicked toward him to good use. Unfortunately, everything happened so quickly, Skinner never even got the gun in his hands. He had seen Mulder leap out like a bat out of hell toward Ray and knock him over as the bullets started flying around them all. He'd also seen Ray push Mulder out of his way and run over to his fallen mate. Skinner now felt so angry and so disgusted over the bungling of the rescue operation. He swore if there were any Bureau personnel responsible for this debacle, heads were going to roll. In fact, even if there weren't Bureau people involved, he was going to see to it that heads rolled. As Skinner watched Ray being led out, a couple of officers moved toward him to offer their assistance in getting up off the floor. He cradled his injured hands as best he could while the two SWAT members grasped him under his arms to help him stand up. It was then that he noticed something wasn't right about the scene before him. Mulder still lay on the floor surrounded by his own SWAT team member escorts, but Skinner didn't understand why Mulder wasn't up and about by now. He'd heard the other officer ask Ray where he'd been shot. He'd sworn Ray responded in some way. It was Ray's blood, or even Arnie's blood, wasn't it? Arnie was placed on a stretcher and pronounced dead at the scene. But Mulder was still laying on the floor. "Oh, God," Skinner gasped softly as he staggered over to his son-in-law. He knelt down and wanted to desperately to shake Mulder and yell at him to cut out the horse shit and get up! He wanted to remind him that Scully was going to have both of their asses in slings if he so much as got paper cut on his watch. Then, in a furious fit of outrage, Walter stood up to his most commanding height and screamed his next words as forcefully as possible, "God damn it! Get the fucking paramedics in here, NOW! God damned, fucking idiots! Damn it! Damn it to hell!" Walter lost his balance for a moment, but when the officer standing nearest offered him a hand to help steady himself all Skinner could do was shrug himself violently away. The paramedic team entered the room and carefully rolled Mulder onto his side. They were searching for the best vantage point to see where the bullet entered and, possibly, exited his body. Finally, Skinner saw the one person whom he knew could best oversee the situation for him. "Scully," Skinner croaked. "I'm sorry. This shouldn't have happened." It was at that point that everyone realized a third gurney was needed, for the AD collapsed into unconsciousness from shock, pain, and grief. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ " I am a doctor, he's O-negative, I'm his wife and partner, I carry a gun, and as soon as you get him stabilized for transport I am riding in the ambulance with you. Do not even think of arguing with me on that point," pronounced Agent Dana Scully-Mulder. And none of the paramedics even dared to think of arguing the point with her. Scully looked on as the EMTs tended to her husband. She'd already checked in with her children and the rest of her family. They would watch Adam and Dawn so she could concentrate on getting her husband medical care. Yet again. Scully couldn't help but wonder wryly if it was really that important for Mulder to be right all the time. "Ma'am? Please? Is he okay?" called out Ray timidly. When the paramedics determined the blood on his shirt was not his, Ray realized that the younger FBI agent must have been shot instead. Scully looked at the man covered in blood and could not understand how this almost frail looking being could create such havoc in their lives. He looked about as threatening as the runt in a litter of puppies, yet here he sat covered in her husband's blood. She wanted to kill someone, but it certainly wasn't this poor fool who made the stupidest moves of his life today. No, it was the moron who declared himself the almighty conduit between the concepts of law and order. Officer Derek Smithson was not going to be long for this world by the time she got finished with him. But first, she had to deal with the here and now. She looked at the man who was now in police custody and, for some unknown reason, Scully felt she owed him a response. She replied softly, "My husband received two bullet wounds. One doesn't appear to be life threatening, but they're not sure of the other one. We're going to get him into surgery as quickly as possible." "I'm so sorry, Ma'am. I don't know how this happened. No one was supposed to get hurt," he whimpered, and then, as if reality came swooping down to bite the perp's head off, he added tearfully, "Nobody was supposed to die." Scully watched the man being led to the police cruiser, who they now cuffed merely as a formality, as it was obvious to everyone Ray was in no way shape or form to run off. Another figure caught her eye. She walked decisively toward the person. Scully watched and listened as the sonofabitch smiled and congratulated himself in front of the media cameras and microphones. He was claiming victory over yet another heinous crime and vowed to keep fighting the good fight against vicious criminals who thought nothing of putting others in danger. "Officer Smithson?" Scully called out, very politely, "May I ask a question?" Smithson didn't see exactly who was seeking his attention, but he was more than willing to answer questions and stay in front of the cameras. "Yes, of course," he replied graciously. "Thank you," she acknowledged graciously. And then Special Agent Dana Scully-Mulder, M.D. went in for the kill. "Would you explain to the media and the public just how it was appropriate tactics to barge into a building without any real knowledge of the situation inside? Would you explain to the media and the public just how it was correct to blast your way through into unknown circumstances, without having any real clue as to what the physical and emotional stability were of those still inside? Would you please__." "__Who is that?" interrupted a very disgruntled OIC. "I don't understand what you are referring to. We ended a crisis situation here!" "I am referring to the fact that you had two, highly trained FBI agents inside that building, and you did nothing to utilize their expertise and obvious knowledge of the situation. You decided, instead, to throw caution to the wind and set yourself up as everyone's savior, when in reality one man is needlessly dead and another is seriously injured. "Who the hell are you?" asked Smithson, who was having difficulty matching the voice to a face. "I'm the seriously injured agent' wife, remember?" Dana asked with a cloying tone as she pushed her way forward to stand right near her target. Suddenly, the cameras and the microphones were positioned on the diminutive, but highly volatile, woman. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about," responded a now extremely nervous OIC. "Oh, but I think you do, Officer Smithson. I think you recall quite clearly when I informed you of the fact there were federal officers inside the building and that, I, having been in direct contact with one of those officers, specifically my husband, was able to determine the situation warranted restraint. "If you'll recall," she continued with an ire that almost betrayed her professional demeanor, "I recommended strenuously to initiate a direct line to the perpetrators and that if you couldn't maintain restraint and work according to protocol, __I_ was going to take over as Special Agent in Charge. "Have I refreshed your memory, Sir?" Scully practically hissed. "Ma'am?" interrupted one of the EMTs, "We're ready to transport your husband to the hospital. "Thank you," she acknowledged, but before she left she turned to the OIC, fuming. "I have but one more thing to say to you. If my husband doesn't pull through this because of your damned selfish desire for power and glory and need to prove to yourself and the world what kind of an asshole you really are, you God damned sonofabitch, I will personally see to it that you never, ever work another day in uniform." She paused a moment to catch her breath, and then, in a fit of frustration and impulsiveness, looked at her mark, and kneed him in his groin as hard and as forcefully as her five foot three frame could manage. "But that's for what you're putting Mulder and me through right now." Scully watched the man as he struggled to not only regain control of his ability to breathe, but of the situation. The media were now hurling question upon question demanding that he answer Scully's charges. Scully, meanwhile, turned and walked off to the ambulance. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mulder couldn't help but wonder where he was. It was a room in all shades of neutral, and it felt strangely cool and warm at the same time. He didn't see the AD anywhere, so he assumed they'd taken him someplace else to tend to his broken hands. He tried to piece together the events that had led him to this odd little room. He remembered hearing from the OIC that they were going to barge in with the SWAT team in order to end the situation immediately. He remembered getting up and running. Running toward someone. Ray. He was running toward the perp named Ray, because Ray was running to the other one, the Adonis. Only the Adonis couldn't overtake the bullets that were being pumped into his body and Mulder feared that Ray was going to be killed too, so he leapt at him and knocked him down. But not before he, himself, took a couple of hits. Shit. Scully is going to kill him if the damned bullets don't. "I gotta stop getting shot at," he announced aloud. He thought how odd his voice sounded in this little room; little area; whatever the hell it was. "Yeah, it echoes in here, don't it," remarked the voice from behind him. Mulder recognized the voice and turned to see Arnie standing before him. "Arnie? You're okay? Man, I thought you bit the big one, but shouldn't you be in cuffs, man?" Mulder asked curiously. "Don't need no cuffs for where I'm going,'' replied Arnie. "What you mean? Even if you're going to a minimum security prison you still need to be cuffed for transport," Mulder responded with confusion. "Ain't going to no prison. None that you're going to know about for a really long time, at any rate," announced Arnie. "I'm dead, Agent Mulder. They got me." "Oh." Mulder paused for about a nanosecond before he gasped, "Oh, shit! That must mean__, oh shit! I can't be dead! I don't feel dead!" "You ain't dead, but trust me, when you wake up from your surgery you're gonna wish you were fuckin' dead. Your belly is gonna hurt like a mother fucker." Mulder looked at the man before him who for some reason no longer seemed quite as large and overpowering as he did before. He supposed being dead did that to a person. He was curious though. "Why are you here? I mean, don't you have some kind of a light to walk towards or something?" "Yeah, yeah," Arnie said impatiently, ''but before I can go to it, I gotta make amends, ya know. I gotta make peace with myself and everyone I wronged." Arnie stood uncomfortably, as he shifted his weight from one foot and then to the other. "Look, I'm sorry. I already spoke to your boss. Told him I was really sorry about stomping on his hands and all." "He forgave you?" asked Mulder surprised. "Well, he wasn't too happy about it, but yeah, I think he did," replied Arnie with a hint of his own surprise. "So now, I gotta deal with you and then with Ray. Don't think Ray's gonna ever forgive me for getting myself killed, ya know? But I wanna thank you for saving Ray's life. That was awfully righteous of you, Man. You didn't have to do jack shit, but you did, and, well I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me." All Mulder could think of was that for a man with all brawn and not too many brains, he'd finally discovered he had some heart. "Yeah, Arnold, I forgive you," Mulder replied earnestly. "Thanks, Man. Now, all I gotta face is Ray." He paused for a moment and then asked the agent, "Ya think Ray will forgive me?" Mulder smiled slightly and nodded. "Yeah, Arnold. Ray will forgive you. It's what friends and families do. Go rest in peace, Arnie." Arnie chuckled a bit at that and his form slowly but surely dissipated before his eyes. It kind of reminded Mulder of how his Nana drops in and out of his life every now and then. He found it interesting that his Nana was not the only ghostly apparition he'd ever known. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Scully women were all watching over their men. Karen Scully remained with Charles who was being kept overnight for observation. He'd responded very well to the shot of adrenaline and was reminded by both doctors and his very overwrought, but relieved wife, that he needed to always carry an Epi-pen with him just in case of emergency. No excuses, because if he were to ever have another reaction, it could be much, much worse. Maggie Scully-Skinner sat quietly in the chair by her husband's bed. She wondered how it was possible for him to sleep so soundly with his left-hand elevated. His left hand was indeed the recipient of a few broken bones, but it was expected to heal without any lasting effects. His right hand was only badly bruised, though it too was wrapped in a protective bandage and would be for a period of time. In either case, Walter was going to appreciate the doses of painkillers that were being administered on a regular schedule. Maggie imagined that once her husband realized just how helpless he was going to be for the next few weeks, he'd probably want double the dosage. And when she thought about it, Maggie realized she'd probably need triple the dosage for herself. Of course, once the surgery was over, and Mulder was brought down to the recovery room, Dana Scully-Mulder sat vigil at her husband's bedside as well. One of the bullets just grazed his shoulder, _her_ shoulder, as she came to think of it. The other one, however, was not quite as forgiving. Mulder suffered from a belly wound, and from previous experience, Scully knew just how painful that was. Her husband was going to be one hurting little puppy, that was for sure. But he was alive, and she was more than happy to deal with the mood swings he was sure to have because of the discomfort. She then smiled to herself, as she remembered her own little mood swing several hours earlier. The look of horror and pain on that bastard's face was enough to leave her with no regrets, even given the fact Internal Affairs scheduled a meeting for as soon as Mulder's condition became more stable. Scully wasn't worried though; it was only a formality, required due to the fact she'd kneed the asshole in the balls in front of a nationwide audience. Scully chuckled quietly to herself when she remembered what Skinner's secretary had said. "With your aim, Agent Scully, no one would dare allow any charges to stick." In his sleep, Mulder now became restless, so she placed her hand over his to let him know he wasn't alone. Several minutes passed until Mulder finally settled down. He'd been talking in gibberish for several minutes; well, it was mostly gibberish. Scully was able to make out a few words, one in particular caused her head to jerk up quickly. Forgive. He'd said that one incredibly clearly. Dana only hoped he wasn't concerned as to whether she'd blamed him for the situation. She knew they'd talked about how he always seemed to get hurt when he and her brother got together, but she certainly didn't want him to think he'd gotten himself into some kind of self-fulfilling prophesy loop. This wasn't his fault. It wasn't her brother's fault, and it certainly wasn't her fault. Was it? Oh, God, she certainly hoped Mulder didn't blame her for putting him into the situation in the first place. Dana then worried Fox was angry with her for putting Adam and Dawn in danger, and her nieces and nephews, as well as her stepfather. Oh, what had she done? "Fox? Sweetheart? I'm so sorry. Oh, Fox, please, can you find it in your heart to forgive me? I promise never to leave you alone with my brother again," she whispered through her tears. She knew she was being irrational, but her emotions were finally catching up with her, and she simply couldn't help it. "Shh," he rasped with his eyes still closed. "Don't cry, Dane." "Fox? You're awake?" He opened his eyes slightly, and he saw her tears, which he tried to wipe off of her cheek. But his arm felt like it had a two-ton weight attached to it, and he felt as week as a newborn. Unfortunately, at that moment, he also understood all too clearly what Arnie had warned him about with respect to his belly wound. It did hurt like a mother fucker. "Hey, Dane? Any possibility of getting some of the good stuff," he grimaced. "Pain?" "Oh, God, yes," he gasped in admission. Dana rang the buzzer hanging on the side rail and when the nurse appeared, Dana informed her Mulder woke up and was in desperate need of painkillers. The nurse informed them she would check the orders and return shortly with the medication. "Oh, Fox, I'm so sorry," sighed Dana. "Why? Not your fault, Dane," he consoled. "But if I hadn't insisted you __," she paused momentarily as the nurse had returned with Mulder's dose of Demerol. "This should help, Mr. Mulder," she said encouragingly. Mulder voiced his thanks and she left. He closed his eyes for a moment and waited for the drug to take some effect. "Okay,'' he said more easily, "now you were saying something_, about insisting__, something." His thoughts weren't quite as clear as he wanted them to be, as the medication was taking effect quite quickly. "I feel badly for insisting you spend the day with my brother," she admitted. "I feel a little responsible." "Oh, Dane," he said groggily, "this wasn't your fault or Bill's fault. It was just one crazy set of circumstances." He yawned. He wanted to stay awake, but the medication was too busy doing its job. "Dane?" he asked just before he dozed off, "It's really not your fault, but_," and he paused for but a second, smiled, and then lightly teased, "Do I at least get to say 'I told you so?'" "Yeah, Mulder. This time, you do." Of course, Scully's smile grew wider when she realized the Demerol had kicked in full force just as she was saying her 'mea culpa.' She'd have to let him have his 'I told you so' on another day. And she offered up a prayer of thanks that they'd have yet another day for him to do so. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End of Part 5/5 Thank you for reading. Please send comments and feedback to STPteach@aol.com