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Subject:Miracles by Susan Proto
Date: Fri, 2 Oct 1998

Category: Story, ANGST, MSR, M/S/SK Friendship, Mg/SK R

Rating: PG13 for language

Spoilers: Post Flick-Fic

Summary: Tragedy strikes a new relationship, yet miracles are still a
possibility.

Archive: Yes

Disclaimer: Chris Carter owns the ones you recognize. I'm just borrowing
'em. I'll give 'em back. Later.

The site addy for Susan's Garden (courtesy of the incredible Shirley
Smiley/Web Mistress Supreme of MTA) is:
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Chamber/4819/index.html

A very special thank you to Vickie for keeping me on my toes for this one!
It's especially appreciated at this busy time of year, so as a special way
of thanking her, may I remind you all to get out there and vote on Election
Day? It's not just your right, it's your responsibility!

Thanks in advance for all of your kind words, past and future.
Please send e-mail comments to: STPteach@aol.com

Miracles
by Susan Proto (STPteach@aol.com)

Part 1/4

Office of the Assistant Director
Criminal Investigations Division
Federal Bureau of Investigation
Washington, DC

Mulder sat in the AD's office, bored out of his wits.

His mind kept wandering back to the scene this morning, as he moved slowly
over to the beautiful creature who shared his bed. His hand wound around
her waist, and he gently pulled her closer to him. He pressed his lips, softly, on her forehead, her eyebrows, her cheeks, her nose, her lips.

Oh, those lips.

He recalled how, in order to kiss her more fully,
he had to move some wisps of her hair off her face.

Oh, that hair.

"Mulder?"

"__What?" he asked, confused, when he realized he was being addressed.

"Mulder, I asked you if you were in agreement with what Agent Bell was
saying," stated AD Skinner.

He sat and wondered if he should just automatically nod in agreement, yet he
knew there was the extreme possibility Agent Bell might have suggested
something totally absurd, like shutting down the X-Files division.

Mulder realized his only recourse was to swallow his pride and admit to the
AD he wasn't paying very close attention to what the other department heads
were discussing. He did not, however, intend to include exactly _why_ he was not paying close attention.

Though Mulder had always considered Scully his equal, technically, he was
still designated as the Department Head. Skinner invited the Department
Heads of the eight sections he supervised to join him for a bimonthly update of issues and concerns.

This way, Skinner hoped to bring concerns to a resolution without going
through any formal procedures, and therefore save the taxpayers a whole lot
of money and himself a whole lot of bureaucratic red tape.

So, when Mulder left his beautiful partner laying in his bed this morning,
he knew there was a reason why she had a big smile on her face when she said, "Better you than me, Mulder."

He realized it was probably the one and only time she didn't mind deferring
to him as the department head. He smiled to himself at the thought of his
Scully actually volunteering to give up control of a situation. He then looked straight at the AD and admitted his faux pas.

"I'm sorry, Sir. My mind was wandering a bit, and I did not fully hear
Agent Bell's recommendation. May I ask him to repeat it, and again I apologize."

AD Skinner smiled wryly to himself. He knew there would have been a time in
the not so distant past when Agent Mulder would have tried to bluff his way
through in an attempt to avoid admitting he was not focused on the issues at
hand. Yet lately, he was actually owning up to his responsibilities. Ever
since his return from Antarctica, he seemed more centered. More at peace
with himself. More stable.

More happy?

Skinner realized with a start he'd never thought of Mulder and the word
happy in the same sentence before. There had been times, however, since his
return to duty, when he'd actually witnessed Mulder smiling.

Skinner suddenly wondered if this was his imagination, or if Mulder, did
indeed, go through some kind of emotional transformation upon his return
from the frozen wasteland.

The AD suddenly jerked himself back into focus when he realized Agent Bell
was repeating his proposal. It wasn't of any real consequence. All Bell was suggesting was the Department Heads begin a newsletter of sorts to be
circulated between them prior to attending their bimonthly meeting with him.

Skinner knew Mulder would most likely balk. Now in the old days he imagined
Mulder would huff and puff and try to blow Bell's house down. Especially
since Agent Bell's expertise was in the White Collar Crimes Section, and
Mulder had always considered that particular section a playground for
Special Agents to play in without getting their hands dirty.

The new and improved Mulder, however, would hopefully be a little more
tactful in dismissing Bell's suggestion of more paperwork. One could only hope.

"I see," Mulder said as he nodded at Bell's words. "Agent Bell, I
understand your desire to be more aware of what other Department Heads are going
through, however I wonder if it's necessary to formalize this desire with more paper
work. Quite frankly, I, and I'm sure the rest of you, sometimes feel like
we're drowning in paperwork." Mulder noted the nodding of heads around the
room.

"I wonder," Mulder continued, "if we might not simply take better advantage
of our e-mail system. Perhaps when an issue pops up which we believe might
be relevant to other department heads, we could mail it to you, Agent Bell, and
cc copies to the other department heads. Then, of course only if you're
willing to take on this responsibility, you could print and keep a file of
all the hard copies of said issues and bring them to the bimonthly meetings with
AD Skinner.

"We could address them individually at that time. I suspect we will find
most of the concerns already addressed by the time we actually meet, but we might
actually discover we'd had a concern that was lost in the melee of work.
Having it brought up again might not be a bad idea," Mulder concluded.

Agent Bell nodded enthusiastically and assured Mulder, the other agents
present, and the AD, he would be most happy to be in charge of keeping the
e-mails on file.

Skinner smiled wryly and shook his head slightly in shock. He wondered when
Agent Mulder had turned into a diplomat. The man was able to take the
agent's absurd idea and turn it into something almost meaningful. Mulder got
himself (and everyone else) out of more nuisance paperwork, yet made Agent Bell
happy by suggesting his idea actually had some merit.

Skinner was shocked to realize Mulder was probably right. There was some
merit to the Department Heads consulting one another prior to the bimonthly
meetings on an as needed basis. When did Mulder decide to start actually
thinking like a Department Head?

"Okay," Skinner began, "if everyone is in agreement with Agent Mulder's
amendment to Agent Bell's suggestion, we can move on."

All of the men nodded in agreement. Skinner was about to bring up the next
issue when they all heard the trill of a cellular phone.
All nine men began to frisk their pockets when Mulder announced it was his.

"Sorry, Sir," he said apologetically, yet smiling at the notion he was
'saved by the bell.' He anticipated who was on the other end of the phone as he
punched in the send button and stated, "Mulder."

"Is this Fox Mulder?"

It was not Scully.

"Yes, it is. Who's this, please?" he asked. He felt somewhat annoyed his
expectations were not fulfilled.

"Mr. Mulder, you are listed as Ms. Dana Scully's next of kin, and this
number was listed."

Mulder suddenly found himself feeling numb. Next of kin. Why would anyone
want to reach Scully's next of kin. Why?

"Why? Why are you calling me?" he asked more angrily than he knew the
person on the other end deserved. The other men in the office were now also aware
this was no ordinary phone call.

"Yes, well Mr. Mulder, there was a car accident on I-95, right after the
Jefferson Davis Highway entrance. Apparently, as Ms. Scully was getting on,
another car cut her off forcing her off the road. She's been admitted to
Alexandria Hospital, Mr. Mulder."

When Mulder heard the word 'admitted' he breathed a sigh of relief. If she
was admitted, then she wasn't dead. His mind felt foggy though, and he
asked, "Where? I'm sorry, where?"

"ALEX, Mr. Mulder. Alexandria Hospital."

"ALEX. Okay. How is she?" he asked.

"Mr. Mulder, we need you to come to the hospital."

"Yes, I'm coming, but how is she?" he asked again more forcefully.

"I'm afraid I can't discuss Ms. Scully's condition over the phone. Please
come to the hospital as soon as possible."

"Yes, I'm on my way.'' Mulder clicked the phone to end the call. He looked
at the other men in the room, and realized they only had some notion as to
what had just transpired.

He didn't know if he was ready to go into any great detail with all of these
people at this moment. Not now. Not when she could be__.

When Mulder and Scully had returned to DC after their adventure in
wonderland, they decided it was the right time to admit their true feelings for one
another and take their relationship to the next level. Though they'd also
decided they were not going to work to keep their personal involvement a
secret, they'd also decided it wasn't necessary to flaunt it in front of
everyone either.

If someone noticed they were holding hands during a walk around the
reflecting pool, or enjoying a romantic dinner during their off-duty hours, so be it.
They made the decision to never again deny their feelings for one another to
themselves or anyone else.

However, this seemed hardly the time or the place to announce to people he
hardly knew, with the exception of the AD, of course, his partner and lover
was lying in a hospital bed, and he didn't have a clue as to what her
condition was because they wouldn't tell him over the phone.

They wouldn't tell him over the phone.

You never get bad news over the phone. If she was only slightly injured,
they would have told him. If she was only moderately injured, they probably
would have told him. If she was seriously injured, however, they __.

Mulder hands suddenly began trembling to the extent where he dropped the
phone. He began to bend down to pick it up when he felt strong hands pull
him at his shoulders to lead him to the couch.

"No, Sir, I have to go," Mulder rasped as he felt himself being pushed
gently onto the couch.

"Where?" Skinner asked.

"ALEX."

"Alex? Who's Alex?" the AD replied in confusion.

"Not who, Sir. Where. The hospital. Scully's in the hospital," Mulder
explained in a monotone.

"ALEX?" asked Agent Bell. "Isn't that Alexandria Hospital?"

When Mulder nodded numbly, Bell asked impulsively, "Why the hell would they
take Agent Scully to a hospital in Alexandria?"

Skinner looked quickly from Bell to Mulder, and suddenly understood the
cause behind Mulder's personality transplant. Mulder was happy because he'd
finally found something to be happy about, or rather, with.

He knew he had to make a move before this situation became anymore difficult
for Mulder.

"Hey, Mulder?" Bell began, "Don't you live in Alexandria?"

Skinner blew out a small breath of air. Too late.

"Agent Scully was traveling from my house, Agent Bell, if that's what you're
wondering," Mulder replied evenly as he stood up from the couch. "Now, if
you'll excuse me, my partner has been in a car accident, and they won't tell
me how she is__."

Mulder stopped suddenly and turned to look directly at Skinner. The younger
man's hands began to shake visibly again as he said in a small, tremulous
voice, "Oh God, they won't tell me how bad__."

"Gentlemen, you are dismissed," Skinner said authoritatively to the men who
surrounded him. He then softened his tone as he said to Mulder, "Come
Agent. We need to go check on Agent Scully's condition. I'll drive you to the
hospital."

Skinner placed a firm, but supportive hand on Mulder's elbow and led him out
of the office, leaving the remaining agents to wonder exactly what the hell
was going on, and just how much did the AD know about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alexandria Hospital
Alexandria, VA
Intensive Care Unit

Mulder punched the button on the side wall so hard, Skinner thought it was
possible the man could have broken something. The doors opened magically
and granted them admittance to the ICU. Skinner followed Mulder to the central
area where the nurses maintained a constant vigil over the patients admitted
to this unit.

"I'm looking for Dana Scully," Mulder said softly, but with great intensity.

The nurse looked up from her paperwork and smiled gently. "Are you Mr.
Mulder?" Upon seeing Mulder's slight nod, the nurse, Mara Jefferson said,
"Your wife is in room three. Come, I'll take you over there."

Skinner noted with some interest Mulder didn't correct Nurse Jefferson about
his marital status. Skinner assumed it was because he'd gone through that
song and dance one time too many, and it was just easier to let the medical
staff think he and Scully were married.

If not, he was going to be damned upset about not being invited to the
wedding.

Skinner quietly followed Mulder and the nurse to Scully's room. When they
entered the room, both men gasped audibly as they saw what Scully's
condition appeared to be.

Mulder began to sway, and Skinner moved quickly to steady him. Nurse
Jefferson dragged a chair over for Mulder to sit down on. "I'll page your
wife's doctor, so you can updated on her condition."

Mulder didn't move, he simply stared at the multitude of wires and tubes and
machines that surrounded his partner.

His lover.

His life.

"Oh God, I can't go through this again. Why do terrible things keep
happening to people I love?" Mulder rambled aloud to no one in particular.

"Mulder," Skinner began. He noted Mulder jumped at hearing his voice, and
realized the younger man had forgotten he was in the room with him. Skinner
wanted Mulder to realize the 'cat was out of the bag' and it was okay with
him.

"Mulder," Skinner began again to get his attention, "Don't give up hope
before you even hear what the doctor says. She's been through things like this
before, and yet she always comes back to you."

Mulder looked at Skinner cautiously and then, as he assimilated his boss's
words, nodded gratefully. Some minutes passed by while the two men watched
the small black balloon fill up with air and then collapse, repeatedly over,
and over again.

"Mr. Mulder?" asked the voice from the doorway.

"Yes, I'm Mulder," he said as he began to stand up on shaky legs.

"Sit, Mr. Mulder, please." A tall, attractive woman waved him back down,
then grabbed two chairs having noticed Walter Skinner standing nearby. "Please,
sit," she said, offering the second chair to the AD.

The three of them sat in a small circle with their knees practically
touching one another. The woman wore a stethoscope around her neck, and the name tag
indicated she was indeed a member of the ALEX medical staff.

Beyond that, Mulder hadn't a clue as to who she was or what she was about to
say to him. All he knew was, it most likely was not going to be
encouraging.

"Mr. Mulder, I am Dr. Barbara Saunders. I am a neurosurgeon and am
currently in charge of your wife's medical care."

"Dr. Saunders, just so you know, Scully is not my wife. She's my partner in
the FBI, as well as__." Mulder paused momentarily before he continued and
looked briefly at his boss, but then continued, "__my significant other, but
we're not legally married. Yet."

Skinner heard the last word uttered softly but with a fierce determination.
Mulder was not going to give up on his partner no matter what.

"Very well, Mr. Mulder, but I think for all intents and purposes, you need
spousal privileges, right?" Mulder nodded gratefully in agreement. The
doctor then turned to Skinner and asked, "And you are, Sir?"

"Assistant Director Walter Skinner. I'm Agents Scully and Mulder's boss,"
he said with authority.

"And friend," added Mulder softly.

"Yes, and friend," Skinner agreed with compassion.

"Very well. We've contacted a Mrs. Margaret Scully, whom I believe is Ms.
Scully's mother?"

Mulder nodded wordlessly. He cringed at the thought of having to face Mrs.
Scully again with her daughter in a hospital bed. He didn't know which one
would have more difficulty surviving this new ordeal.

"Mrs. Scully informed us she would be here within the half hour. I would
like to give her some more time to get here so I may explain Ms. Scully's
condition, as well as our options, with you altogether."

Mulder nodded, but then said, "It's bad, isn't it?"

Dr. Saunders looked at the man seated so forlornly in front of her. She
wanted to console him and give him hope, but all she could give him in good
conscience was the truth.

"Yes. It's bad."

Mulder gasped what felt to him like his final breath and squeezed his eyes
shut. He felt streams of tears fall down his cheeks as he listened to the
droning of the monitors which ticked off the seconds of what was possibly
left of Dana Scully's life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Margaret Scully entered the room, the first person she saw was Walter
Skinner. He was standing, slightly hunched over. Margaret couldn't recall
ever seeing the AD hunched over.

Next, she realized the AD was hunched over for a reason. He was offering
some support to the young man seated in front of the upright Assistant Director.
Margaret saw Fox sitting stiffly in the chair with his eyes closed tightly.
The younger man's cheeks were quite wet and streaked from salty tears.

Finally, she noticed a tall, fair haired woman standing over the person
lying in bed. The woman was checking the numerous tubes and wires and monitor
numbers which surrounded the person.

Margaret walked slowly over to the bed to look at the person who laid in the
bed. She gasped as the realization it was Dana blind sided her.

"Ohmigod," she cried out. "Ohmigod, Dana? Sweetheart, can you hear me?
It's Mom, Dana. I'm here. I'm here."

Barbara Saunders finally made eye contact with Mrs. Scully and said, "I'm
glad you were able to get here so quickly, Mrs. Scully. Come, let's sit down so
I can fill you, Mr. Mulder, and Mr. Skinner in on what Dana's condition is,
okay?"

Margaret nodded slightly and allowed herself to be led to the chair vacated
by Walter Skinner. He chose to remain standing, as he felt somewhat awkward
being offered equal status to Margaret Scully and Mulder. He wasn't family.
He was just their boss.

But he also chose not to leave the room.

"Mrs. Scully, I'm Dr. Barbara Saunders. I am a neurologist, and am
currently in charge of your daughter's care. If at any time you, or Mr. Mulder feel
the need to request a consult or a second opinion, please do not hesitate to do
so. I do not get insulted when a family wants to explore any and all
options for a loved one."

"Thank you for that Dr. Saunders, but can you tell me, please, how is my
daughter?" Margaret implored.

Margaret had yet to make eye contact with either Walter Skinner or Fox
Mulder. She had to focus herself on her daughter's well being first, and only after
she heard what the doctor had to say would she be able to deal with anyone
else.

"She is in very critical condition, Mrs. Mulder. Your daughter sustained
severe head trauma. Even though she was wearing a safety belt, her
automobile did not have an airbag, so her head received a severe blow."

"I don't understand," Margaret began. "Her car does have an airbag."

"According to the report, the car she was driving had no airbag."

"It was my car, Mrs. Scully." Mulder looked like a frightened deer caught
in headlights as he explained.

"She was driving my car, because hers was in the shop. I drove a bureau car
to work earlier for a meeting, and then I was going to drive her to pick up
her car tonight. I'm sorry. If I'd known, I'd have had her drive the
bureau car. The bureau car has air bags, doesn't it? Oh God, I'm sorry. I didn't
think about it. I didn't realize__."

"Mulder, this wasn't your fault," Skinner offered.

Margaret Scully remained quiet.

"Be that as it may, Miss Scully did suffer severe head trauma. At this
point, she is comatose and requires full life support."

"When will she regain consciousness?" asked Margaret.

"I have no way of knowing that, Mrs. Scully. I have no way of knowing if
she will ever gain consciousness. The trauma she's endured is quite severe.
And if she does regain consciousness, I have no way of knowing how severe the
brain damage will be."

"Brain damage?" echoed Skinner.

"Yes. It's possible she'll wake up and everything will be fine. However,
the likelihood of that happening lessens with each day that passes and she's
still comatose."

"And you think she's going to remain comatose, don't you?" asked Mulder
tonelessly.

"I think there's a good possibility of that happening, yes."

"So, what we need is a miracle, right? That's what you're saying, isn't it?
We need a God damned miracle, don't we?" Mulder cried out in anguish. As
he spoke he became more and more agitated.

"We need a miracle, now, and you don't think we're going to get one, do you,
Doctor? Damn it! Damn it! When do I get my miracle!" he cried out.

"Oh, but I think you did get your miracle, Mr. Mulder," Dr. Saunders said.

"Dr. Saunders, look at her. She wouldn't want to be kept alive with
machines. That's not a miracle, believe me," Mulder replied angrily.

"No, but the fact that the fetus is still viable is, Mr. Mulder."

Mulder slowly looked away from Scully to return to Dr. Saunder's face. He
tried to read her expression to determine if this was some sick joke she was
playing on him.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"The baby, at this point in time at any rate, is fine. The pregnancy hasn't
been interrupted. You have your miracle, Mr. Mulder."

Mulder turned a chalky white and felt as though he were going to pass out.
Saunders observed this and quickly placed her hand on the back of his neck
and forced him to lower his head between his legs.

After some minutes passed, Mulder indicated he was doing better, so Saunders
allowed him to sit up straight.

"She didn't tell you she was pregnant?" Saunders asked.

"She didn't know she was pregnant," Mulder replied.

"But she's over fourteen weeks pregnant. Surely she would have noticed a
missed period, wouldn't she?"

"Scully was told she was infertile. She didn't have any eggs__,'' Mulder
began.

"__No eggs?" Saunders interjected. "According to the internal she was
given, the gynecologist indicated she was fertile enough to populate a small city."

"I don't understand," Margaret interrupted. "You're saying she was able to
conceive and now carry a baby to term even though she's comatose?"

Leave it to Margaret Scully to come straight to the heart of a situation.

"That's one of the options we need to talk about, Mrs. Scully, but yes, it
is most definitely a possibility," answered Dr. Saunders.

"She's pregnant?" Walter Skinner said, obviously lagging behind the
conversation as he was somewhat shocked at just how quickly and how much his
agents' relationship had changed over the last four months. They were never
overt about it, but Skinner felt as though he should have realized the
nature of their relationship a lot sooner. He'd always prided himself on being
able to read people, and he was totally fooled on this one.

Apparently Margaret Scully was not.

"Fox, how could you two have not realized she might get pregnant? And what
happened that caused her body to produce eggs again?" she asked.

"I don't know, Mrs. Scully. Nothing unusual has happened since we got back
from the Antarctic__," he began, and then, incredulously, the realization of
what had happened hit him.

"__But while we were there, I gave her the antidote. Oh Jesus! I gave her
the antidote. It must have stimulated her ovaries to start producing eggs
again! Oh sweet God, it never dawned on me. And since she'd stopped having
her periods, there would have been no reason for us to notice her pregnancy
unless she wasn't feeling well or was having unusual cravings__. Oh God,"
he cried out softly.

Plain soft rolls. He remembered that was all she could eat for the last
couple of weeks and if they so much as walked anywhere near a Chinese
restaurant, she was ready to throw up. But never in a million years did
either of them suspect she was pregnant.

They'd both given up on that option a long time ago.

And now she was pregnant. And she was comatose.

No, Dr. Saunders was wrong. They didn't have their miracle.

Yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Miracles
by Susan Proto (STPteach@aol.com)

Disclaimers in Part 1

Part 2/4

Alexandria Hospital
Room 228

Minutes turned into hours, while hours turned into days. The days soon
passed and turned into weeks. Mulder, on the other hand, measured the passage of
time by the increasing size of Scully's belly.

The baby was growing, and Mulder didn't know if his mother was even aware of
it.

_His_ mother.

When did Mulder start thinking of the fetus as a his or a him?

It most likely started when he spoke to Scully about him. Mulder spoke to
her constantly about the pregnancy. He read books by the caseload about the
subject. He shared with her information about the pictures he saw in those
books. He was able to describe to her how many inches the baby was at
fifteen weeks, and then sixteen weeks.

Soon, he'd be telling her how big the baby was at seventeen weeks.

He also spoke to her about how beautiful she looked. If Scully was able to
hear him, he wanted to be sure she knew he saw her as the most beautiful and
desirable woman in the world. He wanted her to know approaching motherhood
apparently agreed with her.

He mentioned to her daily how shiny her hair was and how her skin was softer
and smoother. He also gleefully told her how he'd noticed her breasts were
growing more voluptuous each day. Mulder made it a point to bring that
observation up every chance he got.

He spoke to her and with her. He held conversations with Scully and
maintained running monologues with her. He was heard talking with her about
any subject, at any time he was there, day or night.

"Scully," he told her, "you wouldn't believe what nonsense is coming out of
the Senate now. Now, I know you don't think it's necessarily nonsense, and
I understand you feel it's important to maintain a moral standard for our
country. I agree with you, to a point, but c'mon, Scully! These guys are
behaving like predators and hunting the poor guy down like he's nothing but
a gaggle of geese.

"Oh, I know what you're going to say. He's messed up his bed and now he's
got to lay in it. Ha-ha-ha, Scully. That was a terrible pun, but you just love
to zing me with terrible puns, don't you. Or is that me who loves to zing you?

"It doesn't matter, I guess. Just know I love you, okay?" he whispered
tenderly.

"Well, anyway," he continued, "Scully, do you really think all those
Senators are so squeaky clean? I'd venture to bet a lot of those guys just haven't
been caught yet. You know the old saying, Scully, 'Senators who live in
glass houses shouldn't cast the first stone.' All right, my beautiful mother to
be, let's see what our friends at the Washington Post have to say about it."

Then Mulder picked up the paper and read it aloud to her, practically cover
to cover. By the end of the day, his voice had been hoarse and his throat was
sore.

If it was a weekend, he carried on like this for the entire day, until
Skinner sometimes forcibly pulled him out the door to take him to the cafeteria to
get something to eat.

Mulder refused to go if there was no one to sit with Scully, so Skinner
learned to time his cafeteria kidnappings with Maggie Scully's arrivals.
They'd all pretty much gotten into a pattern; a schedule of sorts, though no
one had even realized it until it just happened.

After he'd kicked Mulder out the door, Skinner sat and kept Maggie company
while she maintained her vigil at her daughter's bedside. He watched her as
she fingered her rosary beads and prayed silently, intermittently,
throughout the evening.

Sometimes they'd converse quietly and talk about things to remind themselves
there was a life outside of the hospital. Skinner wanted to do something to
help out and every time he offered his services, Maggie insisted he was
doing just what she needed by keeping her company. As time passed, Maggie felt
more and more comfortable in seeking comfort from Walter Skinner, who was more
than willing to offer it.

Skinner would stay with her well into the night, and though they often left
together, he knew Maggie always returned early the next morning to relieve
Mulder, who somehow managed to sneak in well before sunrise. Maggie then
stayed with Dana until Mulder was able to come by after work.

The two of them occasionally spoke about Mulder, and while Skinner voiced
his concerns about the younger man's health and stamina, Maggie seemed too
preoccupied to notice. The AD was well aware of how much Dana meant to
Mulder, and he was pretty certain Maggie knew too, but he realized she was
too preoccupied with her own stress.

Maggie had the added worry of an unborn grandchild. She was realistic
enough, even if Fox was not, to know there was a possibility her grandchild
might not have a mother alive, or well enough, to raise him. She didn't
know if Fox would be able to handle the job of single parent, and though she was
sure he would be willing to accept the challenge without question, she
didn't know if it was realistic for him to consider it. And as much as she wanted
to be available for this child, she worried she might be too old to take care
of a newborn full time.

Maggie knew she needed to broach the topic with Mulder, but she wasn't sure
how to go about it. Mulder seemed so optimistic about Scully's condition
and prognosis. He was always upbeat, and Maggie, or Skinner for that matter,
wanted to say or do anything to dampen his spirits. So they both remained
silent, for now. It appeared the routine of maintaining a schedule helped
Fox to accept and deal with Dana's condition.

Of course, little did they know how each night, upon his return to the
apartment to grab a shower, change his clothes, or possibly even grab a few
hours of sleep, Mulder cried on schedule too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scully was now eighteen weeks pregnant. She'd been comatose for the past
four of those weeks. Though her vital signs remained strong with the machines
doing the work for her, there was nothing to indicate she would or for that
matter, would not, be able to maintain bodily functioning if the machines
were removed.

The question on the floor now was, 'what's next?'

The question was answered. Partially.

Scully finally opened her eyes.

Unfortunately, she was still considered to be in a coma. A waking coma was
what the doctor had called it. She was able to now breathe on her own. She
was even able to eat pureed foods when it was fed to her. She drank water
from a cup with a straw.

But she was still unable to focus on anyone or anything in her environment.
She was awake, yet she wasn't awake. She stared into space with her eyes
wide open, yet she didn't see a thing.

The hospital refused to maintain a space for 'a human incubator' which was
what they contended Dana Scully had become. They felt it was long past time
for the patient to be moved to a nursing home or long term care facility.
Alexandria Hospital was no longer able to keep a bed open for Ms. Scully.
The insurance ran out, as it was determined there was nothing else medically
the hospital could do for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Maggie, I don't know if that's the fairest solution," Mulder said tiredly.
He felt as if they were going around and around in this argument, but he was
weakening. And Maggie Scully knew it.

Walter sat on the sidelines, not wishing to interrupt the dialogue that
seemed to be going around in circles for the last half hour. He was there to
support both Maggie and Fox in whatever decision they came to, but it had to be
their decision. It was not his place to offer his opinion, as much as he had one
to offer.

"Fox," Maggie said with emotion, "I will not have my daughter wasting away
in a decrepit nursing home where the staff is overworked and underpaid and
wouldn't have but more than a few minutes to spend with her. I won't allow
that to happen. And besides, that's my grandchild growing inside of her,
and I have to make sure that baby is as safe as possible too," she argued.

"But it will be too great of a burden on you," he repeated for what must
have been the tenth time.

"My daughter and grandchild are not burdens, Fox."

"Maggie, she'd never go for this. You've got to realize she would be very
upset to have to be totally dependent upon you again."

"She's my child, Fox. I can't leave her care to someone who won't feel the
same responsibility and love I feel for her. I can't do that. I won't do
that."

Mulder looked toward Skinner with an almost helpless expression. Both men
knew there was no arguing with Maggie Scully. She'd made the decision and
was going to be adamant about following through on it. Mulder was about to open
his mouth to ask Walter to talk some sense into her, but even before he
uttered a word, Mulder could see Walter shaking his head slightly.

It was not Walter's decision to make, and he would not allow himself to be
put in the position of taking sides. He couldn't do that to either of his
friends.

Finally, Mulder looked back at Maggie. He sighed deeply. "I want to be
there to help whenever I can, Maggie. You know that, don't you?" he whispered.

"Oh, sweetheart, of course I know that," Maggie responded while she reached
over to him to offer him a hug. "Fox, we're going to get through this, you
know that, don't you?"

"Still waiting for that miracle?" Mulder asked rhetorically.

Maggie simply squeezed his hand in response. He returned the pressure, for
he already knew the answer to the question.

It was 'yes.'

They were both still waiting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ultimately, Maggie Scully's decision to take her daughter home with her was
the one that won out. Maggie booked an ambulette to take her daughter home
to Maryland later that afternoon. Maggie also arranged for a private duty nurse
to come oversee Dana's recovery and pregnancy. She wanted someone to assist
her with scheduling any physical or occupational therapy sessions that were
warranted.

There was also some concern Maggie wouldn't recognize any fetal distress at
home. Therefore, if Maggie was insistent about caring for Dana at home,
instead of admitting her to a nursing home, the hospital administrator
convinced her to take the name of a physician's assistant/midwife she could
check in with on a weekly or as needed basis.

Maggie had a hospital bed on call, so Maggie called and informed the
hospital supply house to deliver the bed that day. She also phoned her neighbor to
be prepared to let the delivery man in the house in case she wasn't home yet.

Maggie Scully was a bustling, bundle of energy. She had something to do to
keep herself busy again. She had something to do to keep her mind off of
the possibility her daughter might never truly wake up. Her daughter's eyes
were open and was breathing on her own, and she was taking her home to nurse her
back to health.

As he watched Maggie run about making plans and following through on them,
Mulder felt a bit envious.

He also felt a bit lost.

For the last five weeks, his world consisted of waking up, visiting the
hospital, going to work, returning to the hospital, being forcibly removed
to go home to start the cycle all over again. Now that Scully was going to
stay at her mother's house, he knew it would be impossible to follow that same
schedule.

He wasn't sure exactly how he'd fit into Scully's life.

And with the due date now only four months away, Mulder wasn't sure how he
was going to fit into his baby's life either, and the thought of being left out
of both his love's and his child's lives scared the hell out of him.

He wanted that miracle.

He needed that miracle.

And he needed it soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

X-Files Division
Federal Bureau of Investigation
Washington, DC

Mulder sat at his desk and stared at the paper work that piled up in front
of him. He was never the details person. That was always Scully's forte.
Only Scully wasn't here, and he couldn't be sure if she would ever sit with him
in this office ever again.

He couldn't be sure of anything ever again.

A week had passed since Scully had moved into Maggie's house. He visited
every evening after work, and left as late as he dared to without feeling as
though he was overstaying his welcome.

He'd hoped Maggie would use the time he was there to go out and take a
break, but she refused to do that. It felt to Mulder as if she didn't trust him to
stay with Scully; as if something was sure to happen in her absence. Of
course, with his track record, who was he to dispute her concerns. Still,
it hurt to think he hadn't totally earned Maggie's trust in all of these years.

Last night's visit was the most difficult one yet. The phone had rung and
Maggie was in the bathroom. Mulder answered it figuring he'd take a
message, or at least let the caller know she'd be available in a moment or two.

It was Bill. Bill Scully. BigBrotherBill.

Maggie had apparently filled him in on everything, including the pregnancy.
Bill apparently had an opinion about everything, including the pregnancy,
and had let Mulder know those opinions with both barrels wide open.

By the time Maggie had returned to Scully's room, Mulder had turned a shade
of alabaster that would have made a ghost look healthy in comparison. She had
heard Bill's voice screaming at the top of his lungs through the receiver.
Mulder had held the phone away from his ear a bit, but it hadn't prevented
him from hearing every hateful word the man berated him with.

Maggie had tried to take the phone from Mulder's hand, but he had been
holding onto it so tightly he wasn't able to let go. Finally, Maggie had released
each finger on Mulder's hand individually, until she had been able to take
the phone out of his hand. She'd then said something to Bill and had hung up
the phone with a bang.

Mulder had simply sat there. Numb. When Maggie had tried to placate him,
Mulder had stood up and quietly said, "I think I better go."

"Fox," Maggie had called, "you know Bill just has a short fuse when it comes
to his sister. He's far away, and he feels helpless. Your the easiest
target he has to place blame on her not being well. Please, you have to try and
understand how he feels."

"I know he's upset," Mulder responded. He then looked at the woman before
him and added knowingly, "I know you're upset. I understand that. Really, but
I need to go home now."

And he'd left.

And Maggie had done nothing to stop him. And that's when Mulder realized
Maggie Scully probably resented him a lot more than either had thought
possible.

And it left him feeling so sad.

So alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was so engrossed in the melange of papers in front of him, he didn't hear
the door open. When he'd looked up he was surprised to see Skinner standing
before him.

"Sir? To what do I owe the__," he began in a lighthearted voice until he
realized the other possibilities. "Scully?! Oh God, is Scully all right?"

"There's been no change in her condition," he replied. He couldn't bring
himself to say she was all right. Laying virtually comatose was not all
right.

"Then why are you here?"

"Maggie called me. She suggested I do something, and I wanted to let you
know I did it," Skinner replied.

Mulder visibly stiffened at the mention of Maggie's name. He imagined all
sorts of horrible scenarios Maggie might have suggested. The most horrific
was seeking an end to Mulder's visits with Scully and taking his child away
from him.

"What did she want you to do?" Mulder asked tentatively.

"She suggested I call someone, and I did."

"Call someone?" Mulder echoed hesitantly.

"Yes. Your mother. She suggested I call you mother."

"_My_ mother? Christeena Mulder?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"For crying out loud, why?" he asked angrily.

"Maggie thought it would be good for you to have someone from your own
family to offer you support throughout this difficult time," Skinner responded in a
perfectly rehearsed tone.

Mulder's shoulders simply sagged at Skinner's words. He felt his world was
being chipped away from him, piece by piece.

"Mulder," Skinner continued, "Maggie told me about Bill's tirade. She felt
really terrible for you. She never wanted you to have to hear that, and she
didn't know what to say to make you feel better.

"You have to understand something, Mulder. It's her son,. She can
understand his fears and his anger, and though she didn't condone his outburst over the
phone, she certainly understood why he did it. He's upset over his sister's
condition. Maggie's just as upset. She knows her own son needs to be
comforted at this time, Mulder.

"She felt you might need someone from your own family that could understand
your fears and anger too," Skinner relayed. The AD gazed directly at his
agent.

Mulder's eyes held so much sadness, Skinner thought his own heart was going
to break. Then Mulder said, "I had come to think of Maggie Scully as my
family. I guess I was wrong."

And Skinner's heart did break.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Apartment 42
2630 Hegal Place
Alexandria, VA

When Mulder heard the knock at the door he literally froze in place. He
knew it was her, though there was no way he was able to understand why. In all
the times he'd ever cried out for her support, she'd always chosen not to give
it. Except for this time.

He walked as slowly as a dead man walking. He didn't have to look through
the peep hole, nor was it necessary to ask who it was. He opened the door and
faced her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked through clenched teeth.

"Hello, Mom. Apparently you're as happy to see me as I am to see you. Why
are you here, and why didn't I tell you what?" he asked through equally
clenched teeth.

"Why didn't you tell me you got her pregnant?" she responded.

"_Her_? Why didn't I tell you I got her pregnant? Gee, Mom, perhaps it's
because I knew you'd be so overjoyed at the news, I feared your heart
wouldn't be able to handle it. Now, that we've cleared that up, go home,
Mom."

"Oh, Fox, don't be ridiculous," she retorted as she pushed her way through
the door. "Please get my suitcase."

"Suitcase? Why did you bring a suitcase? You really don't think you're
staying here, do you?" he asked angrily.

"Where do you propose I stay?"

"Your home. Go home, Mom. I don't want you here. I don't need you here,"
he replied determinedly.

"That's not what Mr. Skinner thinks. Apparently he says you're in some kind
of depression over this woman and the child."

"This woman and the child,'' he echoed tonelessly. He looked at his mother
with an expression of disbelief. "Mom, I happen to love 'this' woman and
'the child' is ours. I don't know if 'this' woman, whom I love very, very much,
will ever come out of the waking coma she's in at the present time.

"I don't know if 'the child' will make it to full term. All I know is my
entire world is laying in a hospital bed in the den of Maggie Scully's
Baltimore home, and I've got you standing here wondering why I might be a
little depressed.

"Mom, go home. Please."

"What are they doing for her?" she asked.

"What?"

"Fox, I'm not talking a foreign language for crying out loud. Listen when
someone speaks to you. I asked, what are they doing for her? This is my
grandchild, Fox. I have a right to know," she repeated in an agitated tone.

"You have a right to know? You have a right to know, Mom? Like I have a
right to know the truth, right, Mom?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh please, Fox. I'm in no mood for that tired argument right now. What
are they doing for her?" she asked irritably.

He gave her a somewhat defeated look and recited the current course of
action. "At the present time, she is being fed pureed foods and she's receiving
extra vitamins for the pregnancy. The baby's health is being monitored by a
physician's assistant/midwife on a weekly basis, and everything is status
quo," he replied in a clinical voice.

"Have you had any other doctor examine her?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact we did call in another doctor to confirm Dr. Saunders
diagnosis. He did, and agreed with the course of treatment we're
providing."

"When was this?" she asked.

"Before she left the hospital," he replied.

"And you haven't had anyone examine her since she's been at Mrs. Scully's
home?"

"Other than the visiting nurse, no."

"Well, for heaven's sake, why not?" she asked in exasperation.

"Because there's been no change, Mom! Scully is still comatose. She hasn't
shown any signs of recognizing her environment or anyone in it. She
responds to pain, but she doesn't respond to normal stimuli. She's there, but she's
not there. Can you understand that, Mom?

"There's no reason to subject her to more poking and prodding and testing.
Jesus Christ, Mom, she's been through enough of that already in her life!"
he replied in kind.

"I hadn't realized you looked to Jesus Christ for help now, Fox," Christeena
Mulder said curtly.

"What? Oh, Mom, I was using it as an idiomatic expression, and even if I
weren't, why the hell should it matter to you all of a sudden? Since when
did religion matter to you?" he responded angrily.

''You'd be surprised, Fox. I haven't missed a Friday night service since I
was released from the hospital after my stroke," she replied softly.

"Why?" he asked abruptly out of true curiosity.

"Because that stroke should have killed me, Fox. You know it, and the
doctors know it. But it didn't. I came through. I decided it was time to
renew my faith in God, so I could give thanks for my recovery."

"So you believe God cured you, Mom?"

"No."

"No? I don't understand," Mulder responded in confusion.

"No, I believe God gave me a miracle, so I could be cured."

"Well, I don't believe in miracles, Mom. I don't think I believe in much of
anything anymore," he said tiredly. "Okay. You gave me your pep talk.
Now, go home. Please, Mom, go home."

"I will go home when I've taken care of my business. Now, where do I sleep?
I may have recovered from the stroke, but I'm no longer a young woman, and the
trip has fatigued me. I'd like to lay down and rest."

They stood perfectly still, staring at one another as if willing the other
one to make the first move. Finally, Mulder gave in and mumbled, "Follow me,"
and led her into the bedroom. The bed was freshly made from the day of the
accident, as Scully had changed the sheets and made up the bed to
perfection.

"Thank you, Fox. I would like to eat dinner at seven o'clock, so please
wake me at six thirty." She then waited for Mulder to leave the room and closed
the door behind him.

Mulder stood in the hallway trembling. The last person he needed in his
life right now was Christeena Mulder. The only person he wanted in life was in
another world which excluded him for the time being.

Mulder recalled his mother's words. God didn't cure her, but He gave her a
miracle that did cure her. Perhaps the time had finally come for him to
find his faith again. Perhaps he needed to seek out God and ask Him to lead him
to that miracle which could save his Scully.

If only he didn't feel so alone, perhaps he'd know where to begin to look.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Miracles
by Susan Proto (STPteach@aol.com)

Disclaimers in Part 1

Part 3/4

Apartment 42
2630 Hegal Place
Alexandria, VA
2:50 a.m.

Daylight was a long way off, but Mulder knew he'd never be able to fall
asleep. The appearance of his mother rattled him even more than he could
have imagined, and he needed to do something to calm his nerves.

He had nothing alcoholic in the house to drink; not even a beer. He thought
about going out for a run, but for some reason not even that appealed to
him. He began to pace about the living room. Whenever he felt this agitated
there was only person who was ever able to calm him down.

He threw on his sneakers, jotted off a quick note to his mother to keep her
informed (if not to prevent her from becoming worried,) grabbed the car
keys, and took off quietly to Baltimore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scully Residence
22855 Sycamore Drive
Baltimore, MD

It was three-twenty a.m. and he didn't possess a key to Maggie Scully's house.
He also had no desire to wake the woman up at this hour as well, so he quietly
pulled out his 'tool kit' and committed what was commonly referred to as
'breaking & entering.'

He stealthily opened and walked through the back door. He crept as quietly
as he could into the den, where Scully had taken up residence for the last
couple of weeks. He walked towards her bed and noted the rhythmical sounds her
breathing made. There was a certain amount of comfort in hearing her
breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.

He would also have given anything to hear her sigh, or cough, or do
something, anything, other than breathe in and breathe out. He sat down in his chair.
Well, he knew others sat in it, but he'd come to consider it his chair. He
sat down and grasped her hand with one of his hands and stroked it gently
with his other.

"Hey, Scully. It's me."

Her eyes darted to and fro; side to side.

"Like you'd expect anyone else at three thirty in the morning, right?

"I couldn't sleep, Scully.

"I know, so what else is new?" He laughed a bit halfheartedly and continued
to speak. "I just needed to get out of my apartment for a little while."

He stroked the hair off of her forehead. He looked into her eyes and
wondered what exactly was it she saw with them now. He wondered if she had a memory
that was playing as if in some sort of unending loop, over and over and
over.

He prayed it was at least a happy memory.

"Scully," he continued, "you're not going to believe this, but my mother's
here. Your mother told Skinner I needed some TLC, and for some ungodly
reason, she assumed my mother would be able to provide it.

"Yeah, Scully. _My_ mother. Isn't that a hoot? And to make matters worse,
Skinner agreed with her, and he called her.

"But the most amazing thing of all is, she came. Scully, I swear to you,
she's laying in our bed back at the apartment right now. And I haven't a
clue as to what to do about it.

"I don't want her here. I know. That sounds cold-hearted, doesn't it,
especially since it's the first time she's actually made an effort for me.
But the truth is, I don't want her here. I feel as though she expects
something from me I can't possibly give her. And I don't know if I'm more
annoyed or more frightened by that feeling.

"I needed someone to talk to about it, so that's why I'm here bugging you.
You always were the only person I could talk to about these things,
especially at three-thirty in the morning."

Mulder was quiet for a few minutes and looked thoughtfully at his 'sleeping
beauty'. Then he confessed, "You know, I would have spoken to your mom, but
that's the catch-22, isn't it? I mean, she's the reason I'm in this bind,
ya know?" he added dryly.

"Look, Scully, before you get all bent out of shape, I know she meant well,
really, I do. But for crying out loud, Christeena Mulder is the last
person I need in my life at the moment," he exclaimed adamantly.

"Of course, the ludicrous thing is, I'd thought I already had what I needed,
but turns out I was wrong," he rasped in a harsh whisper. "But now, I don't
know what to believe in anymore.

"My mother said she believes God gave her a miracle when she'd recovered
from her stroke. I don't know, Scully. Maybe it was a miracle. I mean, you saw
her too. She was in really shitty shape, wasn't she? But she pulled
through it. How the hell did she pull through it, Scully? Maybe it was a miracle.
Maybe I need to make myself believe again. Maybe.

"Well, never mind that. I guess I better get going before your mom wakes
up. Don't wanna scare the hell out of her, ya know? So, I'm gonna go, G-Woman,
okay? I love you. I miss you."

Mulder found himself frozen in place at that very moment. He reached out to
her again and found it difficult to let go. He looked desperately into her
eyes and willed them to focus on his own pleading ones, but they could not.
He bent down and placed his head on her chest.

"Oh God, Scully, I miss you so much," he cried out in hushed tones. Mulder
clasped her hand and arranged her fingers so they entwined with his own. He
held on tightly and all at once began to sob.

Some minutes passed when Mulder suddenly found himself bathed in light.
Someone had turned the overhead light on, and when Mulder managed to collect
himself to look up, he saw it was Maggie Scully.

And Skinner.

Who was bare chest and wearing only his skivvies, standing in a defensive
stance with his weapon pointing straight at Mulder.

Mulder's mouth gaped as he tried to absorb the scene in front of him and
regain control of his own emotions. He took a few deep, long breaths, and
finally managed to stare mutely at the rather disheveled looking couple
before him.

"Ohmigod, Fox! What are you doing here? When did you get here? How did
you get in?" Maggie rambled on in a most embarrassed tone. Her face was beet
red and she pulled tightly on the belt of her bathrobe. "Fox, you scared
the hell out of me. I mean, us. Oh for crying out loud, Fox, we thought you
were a burglar."

Skinner sighed in relief as he lowered his gun. He then began to shift his
feet from one to the other, as if he'd just realized he was caught with his
pants down.

Literally.

"Sorry if I interrupted anything," Mulder replied with a hint of sarcasm.

"Mulder, what the hell is that supposed to mean?" asked Skinner more tersely
than he'd intended, but he was someone disconcerted to have been discovered
in his state of undress by Mulder. He then softened his tone when he realized
what the scene looked like to Mulder.

And Skinner was mortified. "Look, Mulder, this was the first time__," he
began.

"Oh, please!" Mulder cried out. "Scully's down here going through God only
knows what, and you two are upstairs screwing each other like little
jackrabbits?"

"Mulder, Fox, please. Don't do this. Maggie asked me to stay and visit.
She was upset and scared, and she asked me to stay for a while. We never
meant, I mean this was the first__. Oh Jesus, don't look at us like that,
Mulder. This is humiliating enough already. It's not necessary to__."

"__Not necessary to what? Rub salt into the wound?" Mulder retorted
angrily.

"Fox! How dare you!" Maggie cried out in anguish. "How dare you stand
there and be so accusing, so judgmental. You act as if we're guilty of some
treasonous act.

"Well, I'm not guilty of treason. I chose to be with someone who could
offer me support and comfort, and I'm not ashamed of that. I'm no more ashamed of
my actions than you were of yours, which caused my daughter to become
pregnant with your child and get into an accident in your car__! Ohmigod!''

Maggie gasped in horror at what she'd just said. It was a thought she
hadn't even realized she'd harbored and had certainly never intended to voice it.
"Fox, I'm sorry. What I just said, I didn't mean anything. It means __."

"__Nothing," Mulder replied softly when he realized exactly what had been on
Maggie Scully's mind all this time. "I know. It means nothing. Look, I'm
sorry I woke you. I kind of broke into your house, Mrs. Scully." Maggie
jerked involuntarily at Fox's sudden formality.

Mulder looked back longingly at Dana, who'd witnessed the entire scene
through unseeing eyes. "I'm sorry. I_, I just needed someone to talk to," he
continued.

"Oh, Fox, didn't your mother ever come?" asked Maggie innocently.

"Yes, she did. That's what I needed to talk to Scully about," he said
dryly, and then added, "I know you meant well, but you shouldn't have done it. You
should never have asked the AD to call her."

"But I thought you could use the extra support," she replied.

"Yeah, well, I thought I'd already had a decent support system, but I was
obviously wrong, wasn't I?" Though he tried to contain his anger and
frustration, Mulder wasn't able to do so as he added coldly, "But it's nice
to know some us are getting a little extra support tonight."

"Agent, that was not called for," Skinner responded angrily, "You have no
right to judge anyone." The two men stared one another down, when Mulder's
shoulders all at once sagged.

"You're right," Mulder replied, suddenly feeling greatly fatigued. He stood
up and tiredly admitted, "I have no right to make any judgments. I have to
go. I'm sorry to have disturbed you both."

"Fox, please, you don't have to go," called out Maggie.

"No," Mulder replied, less angry, but with greater sadness. "Skinner's
right.

"This is not my ___.

"I mean, you're not my ___.

He hesitated once more before he declared, "You know, it's strange. I used
to think I believed in extreme possibilities, but now I realize all I had were
unrealistic expectations. I'll gonna leave now."

Mulder began to walk away, but then quickly turned around and said with as
much composure as he could manage, "I do love your daughter, Mrs. Scully. I
don't know how to make you believe that, but I do. And I love our baby. I
don't want to give either of them up. Please. Please, don't make me give
either of them up."

Both Skinner and Maggie watched a very defeated man walk slowly out the
door.

Maggie hadn't realized just how estranged Fox was from his own mother, nor
how much she, herself, had filled that role. She'd never meant to hurt him.
Though she was consumed with the care of her daughter, Maggie Scully had
never meant for Fox Mulder to think she'd abandoned him.

"Fox, wait! Please!" Maggie ran as quickly to the front door as possible.
She searched in vain the front yard in the dim light of the upcoming dawn.
"Oh, Fox, please. I'm so, so sorry. I never meant to hurt you." She heard
an engine turn over and realized she was too late.

For now.

In the meanwhile, Skinner stood frozen in his own grief over the situation.
Skinner knew Fox Mulder trusted few people with his feelings, yet Mulder had
trusted Skinner. Mulder proved that when he'd told Skinner he was disturbed
by Maggie's assumption he needed someone, other than Maggie herself, to
offer him comfort.

The younger man had told him, though in not quite so many words, he'd
considered Maggie and Dana Scully all the family he ever needed or wanted.

And now here Skinner stood, who had just climbed out of bed with the woman
whom Mulder felt had all but rejected him as if Mulder were the runt of a
litter. Skinner was smart enough to know how Mulder felt.

Betrayed.

And all that kept running through Skinner's thoughts was Mulder's voice
repeating over and over again, 'Et tu, Brutus?'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Apartment 42
2630 Hegal Place
Alexandria, VA

By the time Mulder returned to his apartment to change for work, the sun was
up and his mother was up, drinking a cup of coffee. She pointed to the
coffee pot and indicated she'd made enough for them both.

"How is she doing?" Christeena asked.

"She's holding her own."

"And my grandchild?"

"My, haven't we become possessive," he replied tersely.

"You don't need to take that tone with me, young man."

"Mom, I'm not twelve years old anymore," he replied annoyed.

"Then stop behaving as though you were," she retorted.

"Mom," he cried out in a raised voice, "what the hell is going on? Why are
you here? Why, all of a sudden, have you decided to go for the 'Mother of
the Year' award?"

"You bastard." She stood up stiffly and turned to return to the bedroom.

"Am I, Mom? Am I really a bastard?" Mulder called out.

The older woman slowly turned around and stared incredulously at her son.
"Is there a point to this question?"

''The truth. Wasn't that always the point?" he asked evenly.

"Your father was William Mulder. That is the only truth you need to be
concerned about, Fox. Now, I think it's time for me to pack my bag. You're
right. I should go home," Christeena said forlornly and turned toward the
bedroom door.

"Wait. Mom, I'm sorry. I'm just having a hard time understanding why you
came at all. You never came before. I don't understand why you came this
time."

Christeena Mulder remained facing away from her son. Though his words were
hurtful and said with an intent to wound her, they were true. Every last
one.

She'd always had the choice in the past to come to his aid and be at his
side when he was injured or in trouble. She'd always chose to stay away. She
had her reasons. She had good reasons.

The most important one being she loved him.

Christeena knew he would never accept that explanation, but it was the
truth. The farther she stayed away, the less likely the smoking bastard and his
consortium playmates would use her to twist her son's life around into a
million pieces.

But this time there was another innocent whose life was in the balance.

Her grandchild.

Christeena Mulder had failed where her own daughter was concerned, and yes,
admittedly, she failed her son as well.
But her grandchild was a new opportunity to do something right.

She had to convince _him_ the child was worth saving, and in order to do
that, _he_ would have to save the mother.

Just as _he'd_ saved her.

Just as _he_ could save Dana Scully for her son, and a grandchild for
herself.

She finally turned around and faced him. She looked intently into his eyes.

"I know this will be difficult for you to understand, but I need you to do
something you haven't been able to do for me in a very long, long time," she
implored.

"What, Mom? What could you possibly want me to do?"

"Trust me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

X-Files Division
Federal Bureau of Investigation
Washington, DC

Somehow, Mulder managed to make it to work in one piece. He was still
shaking at hearing his mother's last words to him.

'Trust her,' she'd said.

Like hell.

He deposited one pile of files on top of another pile of files, and then
switched to piling one pile of memos onto another pile of memos. He knew
he'd have to do something productive soon, or his job would be on the line.
Though he was still unsure of how to react to Skinner's relationship with Maggie
Scully, Mulder was smart enough to realize Skinner had been letting him coast in terms of work.

Now that he'd walked out on Skinner and Maggie earlier this morning, Mulder
figured those days were long gone, and he'd better do something that
resembled work or his ass would be grass. Now, if he only could get his eyes to focus
long enough on the new piles he'd just created to know what he should be
working on next.

He reached over to boot up the computer, and when the machine was fully up,
he accessed his e-mail.

From: SKINNERAD
TO: FMULDER
SUBJECT: 9:45 a.m. meeting

MESSAGE: Agent Mulder, you are directed to be in my office at 9:45 a.m. to
discuss your current workload.

Mulder looked at the message and was amazed at how quickly Skinner was
reacting to the early morning incident. He looked around the office and did
a quick inventory of the various items which belonged to him personally, and
therefore, could pack up and take with him immediately without fear of
repercussions.

That didn't take very long, so he decided to actually look over an open case
and see if he could create some work locally for himself. Time went by
surprisingly quickly, and Mulder found himself having to go up to Skinner's
office a whole lot sooner than later.

He approached the AD assistant's desk, and realized with some shock Kim was
no longer there. A new woman, Ellen Grayson, was seated at the desk with her
own nameplate. He wondered how long had Kim been gone? It disturbed Mulder a
great deal to realize he'd been less than observant of late.

That could prove dangerous to him. Especially since he didn't have his
partner to watch his back.

He morbidly wondered if she'd ever be able to do so ever again.

"Hello, Agent Mulder," Ellen Grayson greeted.

"Hello, Ms. Grayson," Mulder responded formally.

"Please, call me Ellen."

He simply nodded in acknowledgment and allowed her to lead him into
Skinner's office. She smiled at Mulder and the AD, and then saw herself out of the
office. Mulder remained standing. He decided he wasn't going to take being
fired sitting down.

"Sir," he began formally, "what would you like to know about my caseload?"

"Mulder, I don't give a damn about your caseload," Skinner replied
emotionally.

"I don't understand, Sir. Your memo_."

"_Was a ruse to get you in here so we could talk," Skinner admitted. "I'm
sorry for being sneaky, but I didn't think you'd come here if I given you
the real reason."

"Probably right," Mulder muttered in reply.

"First, I owe you an apology," Skinner stated firmly.

"Bullshit. You owe me nothing, Sir. Mrs. Scully owes me nothing. Dana
still owes me nothing. So, please, don't apologize. If that's all, I'd like to
go back to my office."

"Mulder, listen to me. I do owe you an apology. I wasn't thinking. I
never should have put you, or Maggie for that matter, in that situation. Not at
this point in time, anyway. You were right. We had no business having
sexual relations with Dana downstairs unattended.

"But Mulder, believe me when I tell you I didn't plan it. I mean neither
one of us really planned it. Damn, I don't know why it's so important to me for
you to realize this, but I never meant to take advantage of Maggie. It
wasn't planned. It just happened."

"Fine, Sir. May I go back to work now?"

"Mulder, please, you have to understand."

"I understand. All is forgiven," he responded hastily. Mulder was not
comfortable with the conversation. He didn't want to know anything more of
his boss's sex life, particularly one that included his partner's mother.
All he really wanted to do was to forget the whole thing ever happened and get
the hell out of there.

"Just a couple of more things," Skinner continued. "Mulder, please don't
take this personally, but you look like shit."

"Why thank you, Sir. Your method of instilling confidence and positive
morale is inspiring," Mulder retorted sarcastically.

"Mulder, all I'm saying is you're getting so damned run down, you're going
to make yourself sick. Scully will have my head if I let you get sick. What
if she wakes up from the coma and you're not well enough to be there for her?"

Mulder, in his fatigue, frustration, and newly found skepticism, snorted,
"Wakes up? Sir? What fantasy world are you living in?"

"What do you mean?" the AD asked surprised.

"Oh c'mon, Sir! It's time to stop pretending. Scully is not going to wake
up from this. She's going to be like this for the rest of her life. There's
to be no miracle for Fox Mulder this time," he responded in a hushed whisper.

"You can't give up your faith, Mulder."

"What faith is that, Sir?"

"The faith to keep on believing," was his quiet reply.

"I wish I could, Sir, but I don't remember how."

He stood up, and not bothering to wait to be dismissed, left the office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Office of the X-Files Division
Federal Bureau of Investigation
Washington, DC

As soon as he entered the hallway he smelled it. It was intermingled with
another familiar scent, thought he couldn't decide what it was exactly. It
wasn't altogether unpleasant, but it wasn't something he'd want to bottle
and sell either.

He opened the door and saw proof of the first odor and an explanation for
the second. The man seemed to exude cigarette smoke, much like the Peanuts
comic strip character 'Pigpen' who walks about in a swirl of dirt. The woman
carried on her own late mother's tradition of holding a perfumed scented
hanky.

The Cancer Man was standing near Christeena Mulder as she sat in her son's
desk chair. And they were arguing.

"You have to do this," she stated firmly and without emotion.

"Oh, but my dear Christeena, there is nothing I _have_ to do."

"Oh, no. You are wrong in this case. You do have to do this. You have to
help her."

"Why? What makes you think I have to do such a thing?"

"Because I'm asking you to do it, that's why. I'm asking you to save her
for my son, in the same way I was saved for you," she replied firmly.

The Cancer Man held his tongue, until he finally said, "Someone is
eavesdropping."

With that, Mulder pushed the door totally open and declared, "It's my God
damned office. You are uninvited here, so I will listen to any God damned
thing I want!" Mulder replied angrily.

The two of them looked astonished at the venom in Mulder's voice. "Now,
either tell me how you're going to help Scully, or get the hell out of
here,'' Mulder replied.

"I don't know if I can help her."

"Fine, then get out," responded Mulder succinctly.

"Fox! No, you mustn't give up like this,'' Christeena implored.

"Why not? He doesn't want to help, then don't waste my time. Get the hell
out," he demanded.

"What the hell is going on in here?" asked AD Skinner as he burst through
the door.

"Oh great, I've got a God damned convention in my office," Mulder mumbled
aloud.

"What the hell do you want?" asked Skinner of the Smoking Man.

"I was an invited guest, Mr. Skinner."

"Bullshit," Skinner responded.

"Oh no, Sir, apparently Mommy Dearest here invited him to join us in this
little soiree,'' Mulder interjected. "She's under some delusion he can help
Scully. He doesn't want to, so now I'm kicking you all out. You want to
deal with this, Sir? Take it out in the hallway. I think I might have some work
to do here, somewhere."

"Stop it, Agent Mulder. You mean to say there's a possibility this man may
be able to help Agent Scully, and you're dismissing it?" asked Skinner
unbelievingly.

''You're going to tell me you think this sonofabitch can help my Scully?
You think he would help her if he could? Damn, Sir. If that's the case, then
you're an even bigger sucker than I am. Now, would you all please leave,"
he pleaded.

"Fox, you're wrong. He can help your partner," Christeena attempted to
convince. "He cured me, and he can cure Dana. Fox, I swear. I swear on
your sister's life."

"On my sister's life?" Mulder looked at his mother questioningly, and then
the truth dawned on him. "Well. I'll be God damned. You've known all along,
haven't you? The smoking sonofabitch has kept you posted all these years,
and you've known she was alive all this time. God damn!" Mulder hooted more out
of frustration than elation.

"So, you say he can help Scully? Fine. But he won't. I'm of more use to
him when I'm not so centered, so stable, so normal. And we all know the only
person capable of keeping me centered, somewhat stable, and even remotely
close to normal, is Scully.

"So much for that great idea of yours, Mom. Now, would you all go home, or
at the very least, get the hell out of my office?" Mulder begged.

"Help her," she pleaded. "Help her like you helped me."

"Helped you?" Mulder echoed. "How did he help you?"

"He brought me back, Fox," she responded. "He gave me my miracle."

"So, you black tarred, lying no good bastard, do you think you could save my
Scully?" Mulder asked doubtfully in anticipation of the answer he expected.

However, what he expected was quite different from what he got.

"Do you believe in miracles, Mr. Mulder?" he asked through a cloud of smoke.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Miracles
by Susan Proto (STPteach@aol.com)

Disclaimers in Part 1

Part 4/4

X-Files Division
Federal Bureau of Investigation
Washington, DC

Mulder remained in the office alone and sat in what he could only suppose
was shock. He felt himself shivering and clutched his arms around his torso in
a vain attempt to get warm. His teeth chattered, and his legs shook.

And he found himself reliving the scene, from not twenty minutes ago, over
and over again.

''Do I believe in miracles?'' he'd asked him.

He'd looked at the Cancer Man and simply stared for a moment before he'd
said, "I used to. I don't think I can anymore."

''Pity," the Cigarette Man had said, "It would be a shame if you didn't."

"Why? Why would it be a shame, you lying sonofabitch?" Mulder had
practically growled.

"There, there, Agent Mulder. You really should watch what you say to me,"
he'd replied calmly.

"Oh really? And why is that?"

"Because I'm the 'miracle man', that's why," he'd replied easily. Mulder
looked back at him uneasily. He'd turned to look at those in the room with
him, but then had turned back to the Smoking Man.

"I don't understand," Mulder had whispered in anguish. "Why are you doing
this to me? Please, don't make me ___. Don't say things like this and then
__." He'd stopped, as he hadn't been able to bear even voicing the
possibility.

But the Cancer Man had finished Mulder's thoughts for him.

"__break your trust? You don't want to trust me, yet you know you don't
have a choice. You can't _not_ take the chance I might just be the 'miracle
man'. Quite a dilemma, isn't it, Agent Mulder? Quite a dilemma."

Mulder had stared at the older man and then had to look away. He'd been
scared for the man had voiced Mulder's feelings perfectly. He'd wanted
desperately to throw them all out of his office. He didn't want to go
through the grief of believing the bastard's words and having them thrown back into
his face.

But he couldn't take the chance of not believing. What if it was true.
What if he could give Scully back her life, and in turn, give Mulder back his own
life. And their child's.

The child.

A price.

Would he expect a price?

Mulder had looked up and asked the question that he had not wanted to know
the answer to but knew had to be asked anyway.

"Why?"

"Why?" the Cancer Man had echoed.

"Why would you help her? What do you want in return?" Mulder had asked
suspiciously. Fearfully.

Cancer Man had stared back at the younger man intently. He'd pondered his
words carefully and then had said, "Because of who I am and who you are."
He'd paused again before he'd said, "I want nothing."

"Bullshit," the word had reverberated loudly off the walls of the office.

"It is your choice, Agent Mulder, to believe what you want to believe. I
have a miracle to offer. It is your choice whether to take a chance and put your
trust in my offer.

"Of course, those others present may wonder if you have any choice at all.

"All you need to do is put your trust in me, and you will have your miracle,
Fox," the man had said through curls of smoke rings. "But, I need an answer
now."

Mulder had stood mutely in the middle of his office, and had held a silent
debate with himself as to whether he should take the chance. Should he give
this man his trust? Should he place the life of the woman he loved and the
well being of their unborn child in the hands of this man who made their
lives so miserable.

How could he not?

And that is what he'd said to the Smoking Man. He'd lamented aloud, "How
can I not?"

"So, you are giving me your trust?" he'd asked evenly.

"Yes," Mulder had whispered in response.

Cancer Man had looked from Mulder to Skinner and then finally to Christeena.
A small, compact smile had formed on his dried, pale lips, and, as though he
were claiming bragging rights, he'd said, "See Christeena? I am not a
difficult person to deal with. All one needs to do is provide me with the
right incentive."

"Listen you bastard, if this is some kind of trick," Skinner had threatened.

"No," Christeena had interjected, "it's not a trick. Fox has given
something very precious of himself to him, and our friend knows it. He will keep his
end of the bargain to my son. He knows he has to."

"He has to?" Skinner had echoed questioningly.

"He has to. Or I will kill him," she'd said very calmly.

Cancer Man departed after that, and Christeena soon followed. Even Skinner
found it necessary to leave the office in search of fresh air. They'd all
simply left Mulder to absorb all that had transpired. So he sat alone, and
frightened, and unsure if he'd done the right thing.

And he knew there was only one person he could talk it over with. He stood
up on shaky legs, grabbed his trench coat, and left for Baltimore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scully Residence
22855 Sycamore Drive
Baltimore, MD

He knocked on the door this time.

When there was no answer, he rang the doorbell.

When there was still no answer, he tried the doorknob and discovered it was
open. He walked in.

Mulder entered the den quietly and found Maggie asleep in his chair. He
realized she must have felt as exhausted as he did, especially when he
considered their early morning scene, so he didn't want to wake her.

But he had to tell Scully what he'd done. Actually, he had to tell Maggie
what he'd done as well. And he was scared neither one would understand.

Hell, he wasn't sure if he even understood it himself.

Deals with Cancer Man? What was he? Crazy?

He stood quietly in front of Scully's bed and debated silently with himself
whether he should wake up Maggie. As it was, he stood there long enough for
Maggie herself to solve the dilemma for him.

"Fox? What time is it?" Maggie asked groggily.

"It's a little before noon, Mrs. Scully."

"Noon? Didn't you go to work? What's wrong? Walter__?" she asked
anxiously.

"__ The AD is fine," he reassured comfortingly.

"Then why are you here now?" she asked, but then quickly added, "Not that
you're not welcomed here. Fox, you know you are always welcomed here, don't
you?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Scully," was his reply, for in reality he hadn't been sure
if he really was welcomed any longer.

"Oh Fox, please, call me Maggie." She paused momentarily and then said,
"You were right, you know."

"I was right about something?"

She nodded confidently. "We are family. You've been a part of my family
for the last five and a half years, ever since __, ever since the first time
Dana had left us. Oh, Fox, you've saved her so many times; so many times. How
could I not welcome you into my family and into my heart?" she reassured.

"Mrs. Sc__, Maggie, I did something today," he confessed with trepidation.

"Did something?"

"I put Scully's __, Dana's life in the hands of someone else. I don't know
if I did the right thing," he rasped. "I don't know if he can make a miracle."

"Whose hands, Fox? Whose?"

"Cancer Man's," he whispered. "Oh God, what have I done?"

Mulder wasn't able to look at Maggie or Scully. The tears in his eyes
welled up to the point of overflowing. He put his face into his hands and,
finally, began to sob.

Maggie stood up and quickly walked over to where he stood. She reached over
to him and wrapped one arm around his waist and then reached up to bring his
head down to her shoulder. Maggie then murmured soft, reassuring words and
held him as any mother would hold a dear child in order to offer comfort.

"What if it doesn't work?" he bemoaned, but then with more fear he cried
out, "God, Maggie, what if it does? What if it does work and he wants a pay
back? What have I done? Oh God, what have I done?"

"Oh, Fox, don't you know what you've done? You've, hopefully, found our
miracle," she consoled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He sat in his chair, by her side, from that moment on. He got up once to
use the bathroom, but every other moment was spent by her bedside.

He talked to her. He asked her questions. He answered questions. He read
to her. He sang to her. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear.

He told her he loved her and their baby with all of his heart.

He confessed he was afraid and unsure, and prayed aloud for her to forgive
him in case he'd done wrong by dealing with the Smoking Man.

Maggie left him on his own after she'd assured him she supported his dealing
with the Cancer Man. She'd made a sandwich for him earlier, which of course
remained untouched hours later. He did drink the iced tea she'd kept
available for him, for which he told her he was most grateful.

She nodded in acknowledgment, and went about trying to keep busy in other
parts of the house in order to give him and Dana the privacy she knew he
needed at this time.

But occasionally she would hear bits and pieces of the monologues that
ensued. Things like….

"I think my mother loved him once, Scully. I think that's why she trusts
him. The thing is, I think the smoking bastard once loved my mother. Still may
for all I know…."

"I won't let him have the baby, Scully. I promise, so help me and
everything I find sacred in this life, I will kill him before he takes our baby…"

"Scully, have I ever told you I'm Jewish? I mean I don't really practice,
but I've been thinking, when you wake up, I might like to go to a Temple
service. That's not gonna be a problem for you, is it…?"

"I swear Scully, when you get well, I am going to rent Duck Soup and once
and for all prove to you why the Marx Brothers were such geniuses…."

"I think I made your mother cry this morning. God, Scully, I had no right
to do that. I didn't mean to make her cry, you know that, don't you? I don't
know how to apologize. Saying 'I'm sorry' just doesn't seem enough…."

"I honestly thought Skinner was going to fire my ass today, but he didn't.
Of course, now that I've had time to think about it, I realize he'd never do
something like that. He's always been there for me, Scully. For both of us
actually. He's good for me, Scully. He's a good man, and he's good for
me…."

"The baby moved! Scully, I felt it. Oh God, I felt the baby move," he
cried out in excitement. "Can you feel him? Can you? Oh please, God, I hope you
can feel him…."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun had set a couple of hours earlier when the door bell rang. Mulder
stood up stiffly next to the bed. He heard Maggie walk quickly over to the
door and open it. He waited anxiously to see who arrived.

"Mulder," Skinner said as he entered the room, "Did he say when he was going
to arrive?"

"No," he said hoarsely as he'd been talking to Scully nonstop for the entire
day.

"Oh."

And together, they waited.

A couple of more hours passed, and Mulder's nerves began to twist and turn
and become raw. He suddenly stood up from his usual place next to Scully and
began to pace, back and forth.

He next started muttering to himself, softly berating himself for what he
believed was obviously a foolish deal. Mulder considered the real
probability he'd been duped yet again, and decided he would hunt the Smoking Bastard
down and kill him for putting him, Skinner, and Mrs. Scully through the pain of
waiting for a cure.

Mulder became more and more frenetic in his pacing, until Skinner could
stand it no longer. Walter reached out to Mulder and grabbed his arm. "Fox!
Stop it, Fox." He held Mulder's arm in place and gently restrained and calmed
him.

"He's screwing with my head again, Boss, and what's really absurd about it
is I let him. I offered my head to him on a silver platter, and practically
told him to have a field day fucking it over."

"No, you did what anyone of us would have done. Be patient. He'll be
here," Skinner assured.

"You really believe that?" Mulder asked skeptically.

"I have to believe it," he replied with a small smile as he sensed the irony
in their role reversal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another half hour passed and the doorbell rang. Skinner and Maggie walked
over to the front door, while Mulder remained with Scully.

"Well, Scully," he said as he searched her darting eyes for any kind of
understanding, "this is it. This is when we find out if miracles really can
happen." He grasped her hand with his and bent down to brush his lips
tenderly on her forehead. "I love you, G-Woman. Always know that. Please,
know I will always love you."

Skinner reentered the room with Maggie, followed by Christeena Mulder,
Cancer Man, and a third person Mulder recognized only as The Bounty Hunter. Mulder
shuddered at the memory of their last meeting together, and unconsciously
recoiled as the entity moved closer to him and Scully.

Mulder was at a loss as to what he should do. He wanted to protect Scully,
yet he realized the Bounty Hunter terrified him with his physical power of
strength. Mulder looked towards Cancer Man for some reassurance this
Herculean alien was a necessary part of the plan.

"Good evening, Agent Mulder. How are we doing tonight?" asked the Smoking
Man.

"So, Spartacus here is our miracle maker?" asked Mulder with a tinge of
sarcasm, going with typical Mulder philosophy that the best defense is a
good offense.

"I don't have to take his shit," Bounty Hunter retorted. "I will not deal
with this fool, do you understand?"

"Now, my good man, Agent Mulder is feeling just a tad tense. There's no
need to act hastily. You are here to do a job I have requested, so let's not
waste any more time," Cancer Man reasoned.

"Are you sure?" Bounty Hunter asked.

The elder statesman looked about the room, first at Mulder and Skinner, and
then at Agent Scully and Mrs. Scully. Finally, he gazed into the searing
blue eyes of Christeena Mulder.

"Yes, I am. You must cure her."

The Bounty Hunter nodded slightly in affirmation and proceeded to place his
hands around Dana Scully's head. He held her head gently as he pressed
down, firmly but without pain to the patient.

Several minutes passed. Mulder became more and more nervous.

Nothing happened. She was still looking about, yet seeing nothing.

It wasn't working. It wasn't working. It wasn't
working,Itwasn'tworking,Itwasn'tworking…….

"Mulder?" called out a very hoarse, but very Scully-like sounding voice.

"Scully?"

"Mulder, thirsty."

"Oh yeah! Thirsty! She's thirsty. Oh God, she's thirsty!" he cried out as
he practically danced around her bed. Mulder moved quickly from one
individual to the next. He grabbed Skinner into a bear hug of sorts and
then pulled Maggie into a tender hug and kiss.

Next he leaned over his partner and put his hands tenderly around her face.
"Welcome back, G-Woman. We've missed you. I've missed you so much," he
choked.

"Where've I been?" she asked confused.

"Far, far away," he replied softly.

Then, after she tried to swallow, she rasped out, "Thirsty."

Mulder got Scully a glass of water and held the straw while she drank.
"Slow down. There's no need to drain the city's water supply in one night," he
said jokingly. While she was having her fill, Cancer Man nodded slightly towards
Maggie and Skinner and jerked his head imperceptibly to the Bounty Hunter in
an effort to take their leave.

Mulder noticed however, and jumped up from Scully's side and walked directly
to the Cigarette Man. "I have to know something," Mulder began. "I have to
know, why?"

"Because she asked me to."

"Because she asked you to? That's all it took?" Mulder asked incredulously.

"Of course," he replied assuredly, and with that the Smoking Man and the
Bounty Hunter left.

Mulder next turned around to speak with his mother.

"Mom__?"

He searched around the room for her, but she wasn't there. Mulder looked at
Maggie and then Skinner questioningly, but they both simply shrugged their
shoulders in a quizzical response.

"Where'd she go?" Mulder asked nonplused. "Did you see her leave?"

"No," they'd replied equally puzzled.

"Mulder," interjected Scully, who was now totally confused. "What's going
on? Who are you talking about?"

"My mother. I wanted to thank her," he mused. "I wanted to thank her for
my miracle."

"Miracle? What miracle? I don't understand__. Ohmigod, Mulder? What the
hell happened to me?!" asked a very nervous mother to be.

"Oh, well, um, ya see, Scully, um __" Mulder stuttered as he realized what
he had to explain. "You've gone and put on a few pounds you see __," he began
with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Bounty Hunter slipped into the driver's seat while Cancer Man held open
the rear passenger door to the black Caddy for her. When she'd climbed in
and made herself comfortable, he closed the door and walked around to the other
side.

He climbed in next to her and took her hand. She smiled slightly at the
gesture and said, "You know, if you hadn't helped them, I really would have
had to kill you."

"Yes. I knew that. Which is why I must tell you, my dear, it really was
lovely working with you again."

He picked up the hand he'd clasped in his own and placed a gentle kiss on
it, and then they both settled back into their seats for the ride home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End 4/4

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