Category: MSR (marriage), MulderTorture,MulderAngst
Rating: PG13 for language & violence
Spoilers: Through season 4
Summary: Mulder, Scully & baby Adam prepare for the next
journey in their lives, only to have ignorance, jealousy, and violence
threaten to end it too soon.
Archive: Yes.
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully, as well as Maggie Scully, Bill &
Tara Scully, Charlie & (whatever his wife's name is on the
show...but we call her) Karen Scully and Walter Skinner belong to
10/13 productions and Chris Carter. Since I have learned to play
nice in the sandbox, I am only borrowing them CC's characters and
promise to return them at the end of the story. Honest. I promise.
Believe me. Please, because I couldn't afford to be sued on my
salary.

I'm quite sure Vickie feels the same way! Doncha Vickie??
Vickie?? Give 'em back, Vickie! C'mon, ya gotta give 'em back!
We promised!... oh, all right, just a little longer!.......(but
eventually, we'll give 'em back! Promise!)

Additional Disclaimer: Rock-a-bye Baby does not belong to me
either, and yes I have taken the liberty of changing the words just a
tad, 'cause that' s the way I used to sing it to my son when he was a
baby... (and who is turning the ripe old age of 12 in five days.. oy)
because I hated the original words.....hated them!

Introduction: This is a follow-up to the stories, "Life Cycles VII:
Eight Days," by Susan Proto and the addendum story "Life Cycles
VIII: In the Name of the Father" by Vickie Moseley.
vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com This new
story is a two/fer/oner as it's co-authored by Susan and Vickie!
This is the ninth piece in the series.

The stories are going in a chronological order, so for continuity's
sake, especially regarding this one, you probably will want to read
the others first, cause this one might throw you for a loop if you
don't. We've taken a couple of liberties with one or two characters,
so be forewarned regarding that!

This was an experience to remember! I've never collaborated with
anyone before, and to be honest the thought of "keeping up with
Moseley" was a little daunting to me at first. But I gotta tell ya, the
lady sure does know how to write, as well as encourage and guide a
friend to write their very best offerings as well. This story was a
roller coaster of learning, knowledge, and emotions! We took
these characters on a helluva ride, and Vickie and I rode with them
over every bump and dip!

So, thank you Vickie, for not only willingly partaking in my
universe, but giving it the richness and diversity that I could never
have achieved without you!

<Vickie, blushing, wrestles the microphone out of Susan's hands>
Hi there. Well, I've watched gleefully since Susan first relayed her
idea of 'getting our guys engaged and married'(shameless plug for
Life Cycles series). I want to thank her deeply, sincerely, and
eternally for letting me wade in and join the fun. This was an
incredible undertaking from the start and the fact that we lived
through it, and had a great time to boot, says just how insane we
both are.

I do want to add one more WARNING. We deal with some really
sensitive issues herein--sibling rivalry and relationships, hate crimes,
bigotry, hatred in general. It's real, it happens, and we know that
it's not to be taken lightly. Our intent, from the very beginning,
was to show how destructive a force bigotry can be. We do not
wish to offend anyone in telling this story. Please know that we
entered into this with good will toward all and the best of
intentions. But if religious discussions bother you, you might want
to sit this one out.

Oh, and CONGRATS TO OUR GUYS AND GAL for their
Golden Globe Award for Best Dramatic Series. Hey, Hollywood,
we've known it all along <VEG>

We would love comments. But don't try to convert either of us.
We are shippers, and MTA's to the last <VEG>

Life Cycles IX: Journey 
by vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com & Susan Proto
STPteach@aol.com

The Mulder residence

"Thank you, Father. We'll see you Saturday morning, I guess,"
Dana Scully said nodding into the phone. She put the receiver
down and frowned over at her mother. "I had no idea it was going
to be this complicated," she sighed.

Maggie laughed. "What did you expect, Sweetheart? Baptism is a
sacrament, like Marriage, First Communion--you don't just walk
into the Church and splash some holy water around and then walk
out," she added, taking the opportunity of her daughter's
distraction to pick up and cuddle her newest grandchild. "You
should have taken the Baptism classes before Adam was born.
Then you would have been all set."

"I didn't KNOW about them before Adam was born," Dana
groused. "I had other things on my mind," she said cryptically.
Dana never wanted her mother to know that until the moment she
held little Adam in her arms, she wasn't convinced that she
wouldn't lose this baby as she had her first.

"Well, you know about them now, so, what's the problem?"

"The problem is a husband who is not going to be pleased to give
up his Saturday, all day Saturday, to listen to a bunch of Christian
doctrine," Dana wailed. "Fox is letting me do this, I don't want to
force anything else on him."

"You can never tell, Dana. He might like it," Maggie pointed out.

Dana shot her mother a look similar to those she gave her husband.
"Mom. He's not converting. I don't want him to convert," she
stated firmly.

Maggie immediately went on the defensive. "Neither do I,
Sweetheart. But there is more to this than religion. You will be
there with other young couples, working couples, many of them.
You can share experiences. Remember childbrith classes?" Maggie
smiled as Dana nodded, a gentle smile coming to her face.

"He did pretty well, after that trip to the bathroom following the
birth process video," Dana admitted with a chuckle. "It was nice
being in a room full of people in the same boat, I guess."

"And that was all couples who were 'waiting' for their babies. This
will be couples who already have their babies--most of them. You
might learn something beyond religion."

I hope so, Dana mused, but said nothing more.

Fox got home at 6:15, as he had everyday since Dana had been out
on maternity leave. He came in the front door of their apartment,
kissed his wife passionately and then dropped her flat in favor of
kissing and holding his infant son.

"Guess I know my place," Dana muttered low, but the smile on her
face spoke otherwise. She loved watching 'her boys' enjoy each
other's company.

"Did you say something, Dane?" Mulder asked, not looking up
from where Adam was grabbing and chewing on his tie.

"No, nothing. Dinner's almost ready. Soup and sandwiches, is that
OK?"

"Pressed cardboard sounds good right now, soup and sandwiches is
ambrosia," Mulder replied with a tired sigh.

"Rough day?" Dana asked, coming up behind him and rubbing
between his shoulder blades. "You are one big knot back here,"
she commented.

"Got to play referee in an argument in VCS. Two profilers, one
case, totally different opinions," he explained.

"And they came to you to settle the dispute?" she asked
sympathetically.

He laughed without humor. "Yeah. Bad part was, they were both
miles off track. I ended up doing the--" he looked down at his son
and grinned "--the blankety blank thing myself. Took the better
part of the day. I missed lunch completely. And then when I got it
finished and turned in, both profilers went to Skinner and accused
me of trying to steal their work. Skinner was forced to 'ream me
out' about overstepping my authority--"

Dana frowned. "He didn't--"

Mulder held up his free hand. "Relax, my overprotective loved one.
It was for show. But even his 'for show' can get pretty hairy.
Anyway, he had all of us in the office and told VCS that next time,
they have to make their requests for assistance through him-- 'to
avoid this confusion in the future'. That should help me out a
little."

"I'll be there in another month. I'll keep the dogs at bay," she
assured him.

"Well, you take all the time we can here with my guy, OK? He's
only a baby once, and I can take care of myself." He stood up and
put Adam back in his bouncey seat, then turned and took Dana into
a bear hug. "As long as I have you here to take care of me when I
get home." He released her and then walked into the bedroom,
stripping off jacket, tie and white dress shirt as he went.

Dana stood there a moment, wincing. Her husband hadn't been
having the best of times since she left the office to stay home with
the baby. Usually, she could insulate him a little from the jabs and
barbs he received at the hands of his fellow agents. But without
knowning what was going on, she really was at a loss to help him.
And now she was about to ruin his weekend for him, too?

"If timing is everything, Adam Ant, your mommy's timing stinks,"
she sighed down at the tiny boy, who looked up at her with a
slightly cross-eyed expression and smacked his lips. "No, I think
Daddy gets to eat first tonight. Then we'll top you off right after
baths, is that all right?"

Adam, of course, had other plans. Almost as if he could smell the
soup coming to a slow boil, he let out a wail that rivaled any she'd
heard on any of their cases. "Thanks, Adam," she groused.
"Mommy needed another example of how much her timing stinks." She picked
the baby up, pulled up her shirt and unfastened her nursing bra.

"You never unhooked like that for me," came a faux pouting voice
behind her.

"Yes, I did. That's how we got in this predictament," she growled
playfully.

"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot," Mulder mumbled with a grin and
wandered off to the kitchen. He was now sporting his oldest
Knick's tee shirt--the one Dana had threatened to throw in the rag
bin, and a pair of torn at the knees and seat sweatpants.

"Great fashion statement, Mulder," she called out to him with a
laugh.

"Well, we can't all be as fashionable as you, my love. Hey, Dane,
isn't that MY Academy tee shirt you're wearing," he accused
without looking back.

She blushed, caught red handed. "Mine is a little, uh,--"

"Tight?" he asked, returning to the doorway of the kitchen to flash
her a leering grin. "Hey, I'm not complaining! And neither is
Munch Mouth there. We like our women 'busty'!" He went back
in the kitchen and she could hear the sounds of dishes rattling.
"Salad plates okay, since we're just having cold cuts?" he called
out.

"Yeah, that's great. Sweetheart, I'll get that--you're probably
tired," she called back, but Adam was making it very clear that he
was no where near finished.

"I'm exhausted, but hey, no sweat. I can sleep in Saturday and
Sunday," he replied brightly and missed the pained expression that
came to her eyes. She watched him bring a steaming bowl of soup
out to set at her place, then another for himself. "And we can all
snuggle in the big bed, just the three of us--I can sleep till noon and
we can have bagels for lunch. Or how about I take the two of you
out to lunch? Hey, better yet, how about if we let Grandma
Maggie spoil the crap out of the baby and I take _you_ to lunch!
Yeah, I like that idea a lot! What do you say? I think he's old
enough to leave for an hour or so. And if we can't trust your
mom--I mean who--"

"We can't," Dana said flatly, her eyes brimming with tears.

He spun on his heel and gawked at her. "Why not? He's a month
old, Dana. For god's sakes, if we can't trust your mom--"

"We have something we have to do on Saturday!" she blurted out,
tears streaking down her cheeks. "Damn it, we have to go to
Church!"

Mulder stopped dead in his tracks and a bemused expression graced
his face. "Sweetheart, it's _me_ that would go to 'church' on
Saturday. I mean, I know you've just started to go again--but even
I know that."

"Oh, Mulder, shut up and listen!" Scully ordered, standing up and
bringing the still suckling infant along with her to the table. "I
called Father McKuen this morning. He told me all the stuff we
have to do for the Baptism and we have to go to Baptism classes of
all the stupid, dumb ass--"

Mulder cringed as his wife really got riled up.

"Goddamned crazy--I mean, I've been a Catholic all my life! I've
been to a hundred Baptisms if I've been to one! Why in the Hell--"

"Dane, ah, could we cool the language, please," Mulder whispered
and pointed to the baby. "Just a little, huh?"

That was enough to defuse her anger and bring a smile to her face.
"Sorry. Forgot for a moment." She then sobered again. "But it's
still a pain. I mean, you're tired, you've been working down in that
basement all by yourself for over a month now, you want to relax
on the weekends--"

"So what is this all about, anyway? You still haven't told me why
we're supposed to be at church on Saturday."

"Baptism class. You know, like the Pre-Cana class we had to go to
for the wedding?" She'd been relunctant to drag him to the pre
marriage class, but surprisingly, he'd agreed. At the time, he told
her it wasn't a bad idea to stop and ask some of the important
questions before taking such a big step--even if they thought they
knew all the answers.

"Makes sense. What time do we need to be there?" he answered
around a mouthful of smoked turkey on rye.

"9:30 sharp, at St. Mark's in Baltimore. So we have to be up at the
crack of dawn, but we can bring Adam--they encourage it, really.
We'll break for lunch around 12. It's just for the morning."

"Dane, that's not that bad. I mean, it's just one morning. And that
way, we can snuggle and do lunch on Sunday--assuming you don't
mind going to that late service you found."

She grinned at him. "If they'd had 5 pm Mass on Sundays growing
up, I would have thought I'd died and gone to heaven," she
chuckled. "OK, it's a date, then."


========================================================


Mulder had left the office a little earlier than he'd anticipated. The
fact that it was just about seven thirty was a bloomin' miracle! He
knew, however, he wasn't in any real rush, as Dana was staying
over at Maggie's house with Adam for the night. He'd been making
it a priority to get home by 6:15 each night since the baby was
born, but before the arrival of the littlest Mulder, anytime before
eight o'clock p.m. was considered early.

Dana had wanted to give her mother a chance to spend some
quality "Grandma time" with her new grandson, and so Mulder had
suggested she go over to her Mom's that Friday afternoon, but
pack an overnight case for herself and the baby. He knew they had
the Baptism Class the next morning, and since the church was in
Baltimore near her mom's home, having Scully sleep over with the
baby was most likely going to make life easier for them. Less "last
minute" rushing for them.

This way he could work a little later in the X-Files office. Between
constantly being loaned out to VCS, and being out in the field with
his own cases, he didn't have a whole lot of time to keep up with
the bureaucratic paper trail.

Staying over at her mom's made the most sense, Mulder had told
Dana, since he'd had a lot of paper work to wade through since his
number one "paper wader" wasn't due back from child rearing leave
for another month. He was, to say the least, a little backlogged
and could put the extra time to good use.

She'd smiled at that. She had the best smile. He loved it when she
smiled. But then he remembered her looking at him with a little bit
of concern.

"Will you join us after work?" she'd asked.

"Probably Saturday morning. I don't know what time I'll get done
tonight, so if it's really late, I don't know if I'd want to drive out to
Baltimore. Is that okay with you?" he'd asked.

"Oh, you just want a night with uninterrupted sleep, that's all!"
she'd admonished good naturedly.

"Oh, no! You've found me out!" he'd replied in jest. "Seriously
though, is it okay with you if I don't come out tonight? I will if you
really want me to."

"Of course it's all right with me, Mulder. I don't want you
needlessly driving when you're exhausted. If you're up to it, fine,
but if you're too tired, then go home and enjoy the peace and
quiet," she'd reassured.

He'd hugged her and then realized it would be the first night he'd
be spending away from her since Adam was born. Their baby was
a month old now, and he didn't think he very much liked the idea of
being away from his wife and son.

But now it was about twenty minutes after seven, and since he had
the foresight to pack an overnight bag just in case, he could make
to Baltimore inside of a half hour. Mulder smiled at that thought
and looked over to the right of the street when something caught
his eye. It was a small sign on the side of the road, and he figured
most people would probably miss it if they weren't looking for it.

*Was he looking for it?* he wondered.

He found himself pulling into the parking lot with a few other cars.
It was the lot of Temple Emanuel. He saw a number of cars
already in the parking lot, and quite a few more following him into
the lot. He noticed when the passengers got out of their cars it was
usually in what appeared to be a family unit. Fathers, mothers,
sons, daughters, an occasional grandparent or two.

He felt a little unsure of himself. Actually, he felt downright
anxious, and he suddenly missed Dana and Adam very much. It
had been too many years since he'd set foot in a Temple, and he
was beginning to think tonight wasn't the right time either.

"Mr. Mulder? Fox Mulder, is that you?" called the voice in the
dark.

"Hello?" he replied tentatively.

"Fox, it's Gerry Ginsburg. Are you joining us tonight for services?
How did you know it was the Family Service tonight. Where's Dana
and Adam?"

"Oh, hello Rabbi Ginsburg. It's nice to see you. Umm, Dane and
the baby aren't here. They're visiting my mother-in-law for the
night. I'd just left work and was driving by when__," Mulder
began.

"___You got the urge for a little religion!" Rabbi Ginsburg cut in.
"So, come in and scout the place. Hopefully, you'll find it to your
liking and want to return next time with Dana and the baby. Come,
come. We're starting in a few minutes. Come," he encouraged
again and grasped Mulder's arm.

Mulder allowed himself to be led into the Temple by the rabbi. He
pointed to a bin to Mulder's left, near the entrance, and when
Mulder looked, he realized it was full of yarmulkes. He reached in
for one of the skull caps and, from a memory's habit, he checked
inside the lining to see what was printed.

"David Abrams , Bar Mitzvah , May 4, 1996"

*Congratulations, David Abrams, whoever you are,* he thought
wryly. He followed Rabbi Ginsburg to the large oval table in the
middle of the center hall. Standing in the middle of the table were
two large candlesticks, as well as two trays with mini plastic shot
glasses of what looked like sweet wine.

"Good evening, everybody," Rabbi Ginsburg said in his welcoming
manner. "Let's gather round so we can welcome the Sabbath.
Come, join us everybody. Take a cup of wine or grape juice,
whatever your pleasure."

While one of the older children carried the tray of grape juice for
the children to take, one of the adult members of the temple came
around with the tray of wine and offered one to Mulder. He took a
cup, smiled his thanks, and then watched her move on to the next
person.

He next watched a young woman walk up to where the candles
were. She picked up the book of matches and watched her light the
two candles. Then he saw something that startled him. Mulder
gazed at the young woman as she mutely closed her eyes and briefly
waved her hands over the candles.

His whole body shuddered as he remembered a time so long ago
when he watched his Nana do the very same thing. He remembered
asking her once if it was her birthday, and Nana had just laughed
and told him "No, shayner boychikel, we're welcoming the Sabbath
Queen."

He heard the words said today as he had heard them so long ago, in
his Nana's kitchen.

"Baruch-ah-ta- ah-do-noy, eh-lo-hay-nu meh-lech ho-o-lom,
ah-sher kid'sho-nu b'mitz-vo-tov- v'tzi-vo-nu l'hahd'liq nehr shel
shah-bot.

"Blessed are You, O LORD our God, King of eternity, who set us
apart with Your commandments, and commanded us to kindling the
lights of Shabbat."

Next, the Rabbi began to chant the blessing over the wine as he
held up a large, gold cup. Mulder remembered how the Rabbi had
used glasses from his Nana's crystal set during his own wedding and
then again, Adam's bris not so long ago.

Mulder thought back to Nana's own special cup that she reserved
for the Sabbath and for Passover seder. She said it was the kiddush
cup, and it was reserved for only special occasions. He wondered
what happened to the cup, and knew he would have to ask his
mother about it..

As the Rabbi finished the lovely chant, everyone sang the final
"amen" together. Everyone then followed the Rabbi into the
sanctuary. As people found their seats, Mulder stood near the
entrance and felt absurdly out of place. He realized he was one of
the only people there alone. Everyone else was there with their
spouse and or their children.

As he debated with himself as to whether he should stay, a small
barrel of energy rammed full speed into Mulder's legs and fell over.
Mulder looked down and quickly scooped the toddler up and
swung her high into the air before she could even think about
crying.

"Wow! You were going so fast, I think you're going to the moon!"
he said brightly as he held the youngster above his shoulders.

"To the moon! To the moon!" the brown curly haired child shouted
excitedly.

"Oh my gosh," cried out the young woman, "are you all right?"

"Well," said Mulder, "she doesn't seem any worse for the wear."

"Rachael? Oh, I wasn't worried about her! It's you I was
concerned about. She rammed you pretty hard," the woman
explained.

"Oh," he laughed as he set Rachael on the floor. "No, I'm fine. I
seem to the type of person that attracts black and blue marks, so
Rachael just helped me add to the collection."

"To the moon! To the moon! Wanna go to the moon!" chanted
Rachael.

"Rachael, hush. Rabbi Gerry is getting ready to conduct the
service. We need to go sit down, so let's go find Daddy and Jason,"
she instructed.

"Come. We go to the moon," Rachael said to Mulder while
grasping his hand.

"I think you've been adopted for the night Mr. _____," she
hesitated.

"Mulder. Just Mulder, no Mister is necessary," he replied as he
offered his hand.

"Hi, Mulder. Okay, well I'm Leslie Goldfarb," she said as she
shook his hand in response. Let's go over and I'll introduce you to
my husband, Richard and our newest addition, Jason."

As they walked over, Rachael held Mulder's hand and introduced
him to her father by simply saying, "Daddy, Mulder's going to the
moon."

Richard Goldfarb's mouth gaped just a little at his daughter's
seemingly bad manners, but Mulder reassured him by saying, "Hi
Richard, I'm Mulder. This must be Jason."

Richard nodded yes, and everyone sat down to listen to the service.

As the service ensued, Mulder looked around slightly amazed.
Though Rachael had sat for about the first fifteen minutes, she was
now busy moving back and forth between her mother and father.
Leslie had reached over and told Mulder that she had just turned
three years old but still got incredibly fidgety.

Apparently there were a lot of fidgety three year olds, and two year
olds, and four year olds and one year olds, because it appeared to
Mulder that every toddler in the congregation was milling about the
seats and the aisles. But Rabbi Ginsburg pressed on, and in fact
invited the children up to the bimah when he played a few of the
more well known songs on his guitar during the service.

Some, though not all, of the children took the rabbi up on his
proposal, and joined him on the bimah to dance. Even Rachael
joined him, and when she returned to her seat her cheeks were
flushed with excitement. "I danced for Rabbi Gerry, Mommy!" she
cried out.

"Yes, you did, sweetheart. You were wonderful!" Leslie
responded. It was at that point that Jason decided he needed to be
heard and started crying loudly. Richard had the diaper bag (or
Mulder had come to call it the "magic" bag, because Scully always
managed to pack anything and everything they would ever need for
Adam in it) and reached in for a bottle.

Jacob began sucking away on the bottle, and Mulder's attention was
drawn back to Rabbi Ginsburg. He told a short story that was
aimed at the smaller children, yet could be related to the adults on
an entirely different level. Gerry Ginsburg managed to sprinkle a
few hip phrases that kept the older children involved too.

When the story was finished, the President of the Temple came up
and made the necessary announcements which included thanking
the Goldfarb Family for providing the Oneg Shabbat in honor of
their newborn son's birth, Jason. Mulder saw everyone's eyes gaze
toward his newly adopted family, and he too smiled at them, though
he couldn't for the life of him remember what an Oneg Shabbat
was. Leslie excused herself at this point, and though she thought
Rachael was going to demand to go with her, she chose instead to
sit with Mulder. Leslie shook her head in amazement, and
whispered in his ear, "Could we really adopt you? Please?"

Mulder chuckled quietly and half listened to the rest of the
President's speech. When he finally finished, Rabbi Ginsburg
stood up again with guitar in hand and completed the last couple of
prayers and songs of the service. He then invited everyone to
return to the Center hall for the Motzi (Mulder couldn't remember
what that was either) and the Oneg Shabbat (and he still didn't have
a clue as to what that was.)

When the congregation all gathered again in the center hall, Rabbi
Ginsburg held up a large Challah bread. Before he began, he told of
how when he chants the prayer, he is actually saying a blessing over
the bread, but not blessing the bread itself. He led the motzi, the
prayer, over the bread. "Baruch ata Adonai, Elohenu melech
ha-olam, ha-motzi lechem min ha-aretz Amen.

"Praised be you, O Lord our G-d, King of the universe, who brings
bread from the earth. Amen"

He then held the bread out to the person next to him, and that
person pulled off a piece of the bread to eat. He then held it out to
one of the older children, and she pulled a very large piece which
she in turn shared with another congregant. This continued until
everyone had a taste of the bread.

Next, Mulder figured out what the Oneg Shabbat was. There were
platters of cookies and small pastries as well as juice and coffee.
Leslie Goldfarb was pouring the juice into cups for the children
while her husband Richard was trying valiantly to deal with both
baby Jason and Rachael.

"Rachael, I can't cut the cake for you. I have to hold the baby," he
implored.

"But Daddy, it's too big," she cried back.

"Would you like me to cut it for you?" Mulder asked.

"No, it's got to be my Daddy," she whined.

"It's the witching hour. She's usually down for the count by now.
They hold the Family Service forty five minutes earlier than the
regular Friday night service for the benefit of the kids, but she still
gets cranky," he explained. "Rachael, honey, you're gonna have to
wait."

"Daaaaddddyyyyyy," came the mournful whine.

"Umm, Richard? How about if I hold Jason. I have a one month
old at home, so I know what to do," Mulder offered.

"Oh, bless you! Anything to get her to calm down. Here you go,"
he said with great relief as he handed over Jason.

While Richard cut up the cake for Rachael, Mulder promptly
introduced himself to three week old Jason Goldfarb by chattering
up a storm, making silly faces, and generally acting like any new
daddy would.

"You really do have a little one at home," Richard said, as he
retrieved his son from Mulder's arms.

"Yeah, and he's with his mom tonight at his grandma's house in
Baltimore. I wasn't planning on meeting them until tomorrow
morning, but after holding Jason, well, I don't think I can wait till
tomorrow to see Adam," Mulder admitted.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I thought I would be a little jaded
the second time around, but you know what, it's still a thrill for
each milestone. Of course, he's my son, and he's as brilliant as his
sister. You know?" Richard said, tongue firmly in cheek.

"Yeah," Mulder chuckled. "As a matter of fact, I do know."

"Well, I gotta convince the wife that we gotta clean this up as soon
as possible. We have an early appointment tomorrow, and
coincidentally, in Baltimore. I was ready to scream bloody murder
when I found out we were sponsoring the Oneg tonight," he said.

"Richard," Leslie broke in, "I'm sorry. I hadn't realized I signed us
up for tomorrow's appointment and the Oneg all in the same
weekend. Sue me," she said with a slightly hurt tone.

"Ahh, I couldn't afford it if you won," Richard said lightly. "How
long before we can start cleaning up and go home?"

"Actually my sweets, we can leave right now. I arranged with Janet
and Ed Morris to clean up for us. Isn't that nice of them?" Leslie
said.

"Well, Mulder," Richard said, "it looks like we get blow this joint.
It was nice meeting you. Thinking of joining the congregation?"

"Yeah," Mulder answered. "I'm thinking of it. I've got a lot of
things to think about."

"Tell me about it. Look take care, and maybe we'll see you and
your family soon, okay?" he said, and then turning to Rachael,
"C'mon sweetie, it's time to say goodnight to Mulder and to Rabbi
Gerry."

"G'night Mulder," said the miniature Shirley Temple.

"Good night Rachael. It was really great meeting you," Mulder
replied earnestly.

The child smiled and then skipped, or at least tried to skip, over to
Rabbi Ginsburg for a good night hug. When the Rabbi stood up
and caught his breath, he walked over to where the Goldfarbs and
Mulder were standing.

"Oh, it's good you found each other. You have a lot in common,"
the Rabbi said.

"Well Rabbi, we hate to pray and run, but we've got to be in
Baltimore by 9:30 tomorrow morning, and with these three, I figure
I've gotta start getting them ready at around 5 a.m." Leslie said
dramatically.

"Oh, I don't think so dear wife__," Richard retorted, light-hearted.

"__And in case you haven't figured out which of the three is the
toughest to get going in the morning, I'll give you three guesses and
the first two don't count! Let's go family! Mulder, it was lovely
meeting you. I hope to see you again," and with that Leslie
Goldfarb managed to latch onto her entire family and move them
toward the door.

"I think I should be going too, Rabbi. I'm going to drive out to
Baltimore tonight to be with Dane and Adam," Mulder said.

"Well, Fox, it was good to see you. I hope to see you again very
soon. We hold the Family Services on the second Friday of every
month at 7:30. Okay?" the Rabbi offered.

"Okay, Rabbi. Thanks for the invitation and thanks for the
information. We'll see," Mulder replied.

The Rabbi took Mulder's hand and shook it. "Good. Have a safe
drive and give that beautiful baby a kiss for me. Your wife too,
now that I think of it," Rabbi Ginsburg said with his eyes twinkling.

"With pleasure, Rabbi. Good night," Mulder said and turned to
walk to his car.

It was now around 9:15 and he figured he should make it to
Baltimore no later than 10:00 p.m. Just in time for Adam's night
time feeding. Perfect!


==========================================================


He unlocked the door to Maggie's back entrance and walked quietly
in. It was about a quarter of ten and he wasn't sure if anyone was
asleep or not. Also, since he really wasn't expected till tomorrow,
Mulder didn't want to startle anyone unnecessarily.

He stopped at the fridge and grabbed a bottle of iced tea. He
smiled as he heard the pop of the opened cap, because he knew his
mother-in-law kept a steady supply of his favorite brand on hand
just for him. He remembered hearing Scully's older brother, Bill,
grumbling something to the effect that _he_ was never catered to
like this FBI weirdo was.

At that point he also distinctly remembered Maggie Scully clunking
her eldest son upside his head and reminding him that his baby sister
was married to that FBI weirdo and that both she and said baby
sister loved that FBI weirdo very much and to just knock it off!

Amazing what could made Fox Mulder smile these days. Even
changing dirty diapers made Fox Mulder smile these days. "Fox?"
asked a very nervous Maggie Scully, "Is everything all right?"
When he turned towards her and saw the Cheshire Cat grin, Maggie
got her answer.

"So, you really couldn't pass up a night of uninterrupted sleep,
could you," she asked with a chuckle.

"Aw, Mom, you know I don't sleep well without Dane nearby, so I
figured what the heck." Then after a slight pause, he said in a
whisper, "I couldn't bear the thought of going home to an empty
house, Mom. Don't wanna do that anymore."

Maggie Scully walked over to her son-in-law, wrapped her arms
around his waist, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad we're
here for you, Fox. We'll always be here for you."

It never ceased to amaze Mulder how perceptive Maggie Scully
was. She always knew just the right thing to say to him in order to
reassure him that he was taking the right path. He hugged her back
and returned the kiss. "Thanks, Mom. I know that, but it's always
nice to be reassured."

"I know, dear. That's why I like to remind you. I have some pot
roast left from dinner tonight," Maggie said, returning the hug. "I'll
heat it up for you."

"Mmmm, thanks, Mom. Is Dane up?"

"She's still napping. The baby is starting to stir though, so if you
want to catch him before Mommy Radar does, I suggest you get
into the room quickly."

"Thanks, Mom, I will." He gave her another quick peck on the
cheek, and walked hurriedly into Dane's old room where they'd set
up the nursery. Maggie had invested in a sturdy, second hand, full
sized crib when Adam was born, since she realized this grandchild
was close enough for sleep overs more than once a year. Portable
cribs sufficed for the other infants in the Scully clan during their
occasional sleep over stint, but Maggie hoped that she would have
the opportunity to really get to know this grandchild.

Now Mulder walked over to the crib and saw Adam's eyes were
wide open. It always amazed him how calmly Adam roused himself
out of sleep. He knew this was unusual, and marveled that it was
his own son who was capable of such a feat. He bent down over
the crib and whispered his greetings.

"Hello there beautiful boy. How ya doing? Hey. Did you just
smile at me? That was a smile, wasn't it? You're glad to see your
old Dad here with you, aren't you?"

When Adam started flapping his feet and arms in excitement,
Mulder swooped the child up into his arms, and held him first close
to his chest and then out so he could place a tender kiss on his son's
forehead.

"So, mine shayner boychikel, are you getting hungry? Let's see if
we can hold out a little longer, so Mommy can sleep a few minutes
more, okay?"

What Mulder didn't realize of course was that the baby monitor was
on in both Adam's nursery, and the guest room where Dana was
laying down. Scully heard the Father and Son talk from the very
beginning.

"So, what shall we do? Do you want to hear what I did tonight? I
did something tonight that I hadn't done in a very long time, Adam.
I have to tell you, I was a little scared and_______." At this point
Adam let out a small cry, to which Mulder replied, " Okay, you're
right. I was more than just a little scared. I was petrified."

Adam cried out again at that and Mulder said, "I'm sorry Adam. I
know, you don't want to hear about stories that petrify me. How
silly of me." At this Mulder began to rock the baby in his arms in
an attempt to soothe him. Next, Mulder did something she had
never heard him do before. He sang.

"Rockabye Adam,
on the tree top,
When the wind blows,
the cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks,
the cradle will fall,
And Daddy will catch you,
cradle and all."

Scully listened to her husband sing in the sweetest, most loving
voice. He shouldn't give up his day job, but he was able to carry a
lovely tune. And she was mesmerized by the pure love that
emanated from his voice. She stood up and tiptoed quietly into the
adjacent room.

She watched wordlessly from the doorway and watched Father and
Son as they danced a night time waltz. Mulder looked up for a
moment and caught sight of his wife. "Hi," he said quietly.
"Wanna dance with the two guys who love you more than anything
else in the world?" he asked.

"Sure," she said, her voice rich with emotion. Scully held onto her
husband's waist with one hand and cradled her son's head with the
other. The three of them danced to a tuneless waltz until Adam
decided dancing was in no way going to replace sustenance. He
suddenly opened his mouth and wailed.

"Okay munchkin, I know what you want. C'mon and let's get down
to business." Scully took the baby from Mulder's arms and carried
him downstairs into the den. She sat down in front of the
television and undid the nursing bra and brought Adam to her
breast. He latched on and began suckling immediately.

"Oh, I can't tell if I feel more relief or more pain," Scully said.

"Dane? What's wrong?" Mulder asked anxiously.

"Oh sweetie, nothing, really. I was a little engorged that's all. I'll
feel better once Adam's had his fill on both sides." She saw his
expression relax a little much to her relief. "Sweetie, turn on the
TV, please?" He clicked the set on and started channel surfing,
when Dana called out, "Stop. This one's good."

Mulder noticed it was "Homicide," and started to chuckle. "You let
him watch that stuff, Dane and he's gonna grow up to be a cop,"

She smiled back at him, and said, "Just be grateful Nick at Night's
not showing repeats of Ephram Zimbalist Jr.'s old shows." She
leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and then said,
"I'm surprised to see you. I mean, not that I'm not delighted,
because believe me, I am. But I thought you said you were going
to stay at the house and meet us here tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know, but__," he began.

"You look tired," Dana told him as he settled in next to her on the
sofa. He nodded, stroking his son's soft brown hair.

"I am. But I'm here with you now, so I'm fine," he replied with
tenderly.

"You must have really been a little workhorse today. You haven't
worked this late since the baby's arrival," Dana said in a whisper as
their son's eyes slowly closed and the baby's breathing fell into a
slow, steady rhythm. Just like his father, she mused to herself, hard
to get to this point, but once there, he falls like a rock.

"I was done by seven, but I got a little waylaid," Mulder whispered
back. When Dana had 'unplugged' little Adam, Mulder carried the
sleeping infant back upstairs into the Dana's old room and placed
him in the oversized crib. He still looked so small, but that would
probably change soon enough, he mused. After a moment he
returned downstairs and to the sofa.

"Traffic accident?" she asked as he sat back down. At his confused
expression, she reminded him of his late arrival even though he was
done with work so much earlier. "I've never known it to take three
hours to get from downtown to Baltimore, no matter how bad the
traffic," Dana said, snuggling into his arms after he sat down again.

"Hmmm, you smell nice," she said. "Kinda like . . . cookies?"
Scully reared back and stared at him. Then she reached over and
examined his tie. "Mulder, you have mushed cookie all over your
tie," she said, curiosity coloring her tone.

He looked down at the tie and laughed. "Oh, Rachael must have
got me," he said with a shrug. He held the tie and scraped the
cookie off with a fingernail. "Probably won't be the last tie of mine
to get that treatment," he chuckled.

"Who is Rachael?" Dana asked, eyebrow raised in mild annoyance.

Mulder had to laugh out loud at her expression. "My, aren't those
blue eyes a little 'green' tonight," he teased. "Rachael is going to be
my trophy wife. I might have to wait it out a few years to claim
her, but by the time you're old and grey, she'll be just about ready
for the taking," he grinned wickedly.

"How old is she?" Dana demanded, knowing he was playing with
her, but also suspecting there was more to this story than he was
telling her at that point.

"She's three years old. But I have to be careful. She's got a little
brother with one heck of a grip on him. Little guy's gonna be a
heavy weight champ someday," he laughed.

"What did you do, Mulder? Go ghost hunting in day care?" Dana
prodded.

He laughed again and pulled her close. "Now you know I'd never
do that without you, Dane," he chided, and then more quietly he
explained, "I stopped by Rabbi Ginsburg's Temple tonight.
Completely by accident. And I ended up meeting some people.
The Goldfarbs. A nice couple, about our age."

"Anyway, I met their little girl, Rachael, first. She tackled me
before the service started. By the end of the service, I was giving
Richard, the dad, a hand with their three week old baby, Jason,
because Leslie, the mom, was serving the Oneg Shabbat." He
almost laughed again at her completely perplexed look. "It's
cookies and coffee after the service," he explained briefly.

Mulder couldn't have predicted what she'd do next. She reached up
to take his face in her hands and kissed him for all his worth. When
she was finished, and he was breathless, he pulled back and gave
her the same perplexed look. "What on earth was that for? Not
that I'm complaining, but I want to know what I did so I can
do it again," he added with a wide grin.

"I'm just glad you finally went to Temple, that's all," Dana replied
with a brilliant smile. "I'm just happy you had a good time."

"I did, Dane. It was odd at first. I remembered some of it, but not
enough to really participate. Then after Rachael all but bowled me
over, I sat with Richard and Leslie and the kids. It was a family
service, geared for the children. We never had anything like that
back at the Vineyard, not that I can remember. Or if we did, Mom
never bothered to take us," he said, sadness showing dimly in his
eyes. "I liked it a lot. Oh, I almost forgot." He leaned over and
kissed her chastely on the cheek. "That's from Rabbi Ginsburg. I
have one for Adam, too, but I can give him that in the morning."

Dana reached up and touched her cheek where his kiss still warmed
her skin. "I like Rabbi Ginsburg. He's a nice man."

"Yeah, and he invited all of us back for Family Service sometime. I
mean, if you want. I don't want to push you--"

"Well, you'll have to tell me what to do, I mean, Mulder, the nuns
tried to give us a well rounded education, but there are some places
they drew the line," she joked. Her expression softened. "But that
would be nice. Let's do that sometime."

Maggie returned to the doorway. "Come on, Fox. Dinner's
ready."

"I'd love to stay and snuggle, Dane," he said apologetically as he
started to get up off the couch. "But--"

Scully cut him off with a wave of her hand. "I'm smart enough to
know not to get between you and Mom's pot roast, G-man. I'll get
some milk and sit with you while you're eating. Then it's off to
bed. We have a busy day tomorrow."

St. Marks Roman Catholic Church
Baltimore, Maryland
9:25 am

Mulder wasn't sure when 7 a.m. had come earlier. He'd spent the
better part of the night, tossing and turning. After Dana had gotten
up to feed Adam at 2, he'd crawled out to the family room and
collapsed on the sofa, hoping a change would bring sleep. It didn't.

It wasn't work that was bothering him. It was his life. His
wonderful, complete, he could never ask for more life. He had
everything. Well, with the exception of finding Samantha, he had
everything. And yet, there was something missing. He
remembered the look on Richard Goldfarb's face during the service.
Richard had completely tuned out the ruckus of the toddlers, the
wailing of his son, and seemed lost in prayer.

Lost in prayer. It was a sobering thought. Mulder thought back to
his own prayers--the ones he'd uttered so recently. Those terrified
moments in the hours before dawn when he'd separated from
Dana's loving arms to send a tortured thought heaven-ward
--Please, God, let us bring this baby into the world. That prayer
had been short and anything but sweet. It had felt like his very soul
was ripping out of his body and sending the prayer upward. Then,
in the hours after Adam's birth, a quick prayer of thanksgiving.
You're part of my journey, God. Thank you, God.

But what did it mean, making God part of his journey? He was still
so new at this. Richard obviously was very at ease with his
spirituality. Mulder envied the man, even though he'd only met him
once.

It had been just about dawn when sleep finally found him. Dana,
Adam, Maggie and the alarm clock had found him a mere one and a
half hours later. He crawled into the bathroom, showered and
shaved almost on auto-pilot. As luck would have it, it was short
drive to the St. Mark's. The last thing he wanted to do was end up
in the yard of one of Maggie's neighbors when he fell asleep at the
wheel.

"I'd better get back to work soon," Dana said, jabbing him in the
ribs to keep his eyes from sliding shut.

"I'm fine," he lied. "I just couldn't get to sleep last night."

"Work?" Dana asked, though she was fairly certain that paperwork
had never created more than papercuts for her husband. Generally
he accused it of creating nightmares, but she couldn't remember
him actually having one from it.

"Nah, it's nothing. I just need to relax a little more," he said, taking
her hand and giving it a quick kiss. "How's the big guy doing back
there," he deftly changed the subject to their son in the babyseat in
back.

"Sawing logs," she grinned.

"Takes after his mom, obviously," he grinned in return. They
pulled into the parking lot of an older brick church. Several cars
were already there, and couples were emerging, each carrying an
infant carrier, some with other children tagging along. Mulder was
pretty oblivious to the other people until a crystal clear voice, not
very old, shouted out his name.

"Mulder! Mulder! Is that your baby?" It was Rachael Goldfarb,
straining at Richard's hand as she attempted to cross the parking lot
to get over to Mulder.

Dana was just extracting Adam from the car and looked up at the
shouted greeting. "Hey, Fox, is _that_ your trophy wife," she
grinned wickedly.

Mulder grinned as well. "Looks like," he shrugged. Richard had
no choice but to come over to the Mulder car and was extending
his free hand in greeting.

"I knew you said you had to be in Baltimore, but this really is a
small world," Richard said with a chuckle. Leslie was only a few
steps behind him, swinging little Jason in his infant seat. "Honey,
look who Rachael found--again."

"Oh my gosh, Mulder! What a surprise! But I thought--I mean
you were at Temple last night--" Leslie said in confusion

"So were you," Mulder pointed out with a laugh.

Richard laughed as well. "It's complicated. Leslie is Catholic. I'm
Jewish. Neither of us wanted to convert. We're sort of raising the
kids--well, they're learning both worlds." He shrugged again in
embarrassment. "We're riding the fence, I guess you could say."

"More like treading the middle of shark infested waters," Leslie
smirked. "Grandma Mulligan almost had a fit at the bris for Jason.
We had to show her that the baptism was all arranged before she'd
agree to let him out of her sight. She was convinced we were
shipping him off to Israel to join a kibbutz or something equally
ridiculous," she laughed merrily.

"So, how about you?" Richard asked, looking at Dana.

"Oh, excuse me, Dana, this is Richard and Leslie Goldfarb and
Rachael and Jason. Richard, Leslie, this is my wife, Dana Scully
and our son, Adam. Dana's Catholic and we're having Adam
baptized here in a couple of weeks," Mulder added with a slight
flush to his cheeks.

Rachael was entranced by Adam. "He's bigger than Jason," she
noted, taking the baby's hand. "Hi, baby Adam. I'm Rachel. I'm a
big sister. Do you have a big sister?"

Dana laughed. "No, Rachael, Adam is an only child right now. But
you know what? I bet you were an only child just a little while ago,
weren't you?"

Rachael thought about that for a moment. "I had my own room.
Does that count?" she asked.

Dana laughed again and nodded. Leslie ran a hand over Rachael's
soft brown curls. "We better get inside before Father Thom starts
without us," Leslie warned the others.


===========================================================


On the way in the Church, the two women chatted about how they
were connected to St. Mark's. The Goldfarb's lived in
Washington, but Leslie had gone to school with the priest who was
now the associate pastor of St. Mark's--Father Thom Donovan.
She wanted him to baptize Jason. Dana explained that her mother
was a parishoner and that Father McKuen, the pastor, was an old
family friend and it was his assistant, Father Thom, who had
married the Mulders.

Father Donovan was at the door, greeting the couples and children.
He made a point of speaking to each couple, but when it came to
Dana and Fox, he took each one of them in a hug. "I'm so glad
you made it," he exclaimed. "Your mother has been wondering
when you'd get around to this. How did the Bris go?" Dana
cringed at the mention of the dedication service, noticing the
number of curious glances it merited. "Just fine, Father. Adam
seems to have acquired an early taste for wine," she admitted
sheepishly.

"After something like that, I think we all could use a good round,"
Father laughed heartily. "Come in, come in. Mulder, don't look so
timid. It's totally painless. Well, except for the cold water, but
that's nothing compared to what he's already been through, right?"
he added good naturedly. Mulder shrugged and walked into the
vestibule.

The school was attached to the Church and the class was held in
one of the classrooms. Father Donovan led the way to the room
and told everyone to make themselves comfortable. A slide
projector was set up in the back and Mulder couldn't resist nudging
Dana and pointing it out. She responded by rolling her eyes, but
couldn't keep a straight face. The classroom desks had been
pushed aside and standard issue plastic stacking chairs were
arranged in the room. Plenty of room was allowed for the
occasional stroller and the ever popular infant seat.

After everyone found chairs, Father explained to the parents that
the siblings could off to the Parish Hall where some of the eighth
grade students at St. Mark's elementary school, who were going to
keep them occupied with games and toys. The eighth graders
would be getting service hours toward Confirmation in exchange
for their efforts. Rachael went off happily with a pretty little blond
haired girl named Ellen.

Once the older children had gone off to play, Father Donovan led
the remaining group in prayer, asking God to bless their families
and lead them all to a greater understanding of God's journey for
each of them. Looking up, he waved to Leslie, who smiled back
and winked. He cleared his throat a couple of times and all
conversation came to a stop.

"I know that some of you are wondering exactly why you're here,"
he started. "Although most of you don't remember your own
baptism, you have certainly attended the baptism of a relative or
friend. The Baptism is a sacrament, just like the Eucharist,
Confirmation and Marriage. Everyone 'thinks' they know what is
involved, but sometimes the real meaning gets confused in the
'ceremonies' that need to be done. So this class is to help you
understand exactly what we're doing when we baptize your
children and what the Church is asking of you."

Father Thom moved to the back of the room and started up the
projector sitting there. "Would someone please kill the lights?" he
asked, and Mulder wiggled his eyes at his wife and quickly got up
to comply. "We have a video in the making, but the Archdiocese is
still in production phase," Father commented. "And really, the
foundations of Baptism were set about 2000 years ago--there
haven't been a lot of changes since then," he said lightly, which led
to a few giggles from the crowd.

The film, which looked to be about 20 years old, showed the
historical beginnings of Baptism, which the Church traces back to
John the Baptist and the Baptism of Jesus Christ. In the early days
of Christianity, Baptism was not conferred on the young, but only
on adults. A person wishing to become a Christian would find
someone in the community--a sponsor--who would then bring them
to services and help them learn more about the religion. The film
pointed out that this service still continues through the Sacrament
of Confirmation and the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults or
RCIA program in Churches though out the world.

Sometime later, the Church turned to Infant Baptism. The idea was
to bring the child up as a Christian, and gradually introduce the
sacraments over the period of a lifetime, giving more meaning at
each step of the way. Baptism is the first step in a life time of
commitment to God.

But the Church understands that an infant cannot be expected to
honor such an important commitment. The burden then rests on
the parents and godparents, to raise the child in a loving home,
where God is a integral part of each day and to ensure that the
children receive the religious education that will ensure their
continued progress to becoming adult Christians.

At that point, the film ended and Father Thom shut off the
projector, plunging the room into semi-darkness. "Lights, please."
Again, Mulder moved to comply, but this time, not as quickly.
Mulder's stomach was starting to breed butterflies. *Adult
Christians?* he thought to himself. *Jeez, Adam's only five weeks
old, and they expect me to teach him how to become an adult
Christian?*

He knew he had to take whatever the priest said seriously, because
he knew Dana took it seriously. And that's what worried him.
What if he wasn't cut out for all of this religion stuff? It was scary
enough for Mulder to rediscover his own Judaism, much less teach
his newborn how to be a Christian. What if Adam decided he didn't
want to learn about being a Jew? What if he didn't want to be like
his Daddy?

What if some kid ragged on Adam someday and told him 'All Jews
go to hell', which made Mulder shudder at the sudden childhood
memory that sprang to mind. Mulder was scared about the
awesome responsibility that he and Dana had to baby Adam, and
any other babies they brought into the world.

As the lights came on, the sound level in the room went up as well.
Mulder looked around the room, and wondered if he was the only
one with so many fears and doubts. No one else appeared to be
struggling with their feelings, but if they were, they certainly didn't
show it. Babies were wailing, and bottles were appearing from
large overstuffed bags. A couple of women left the room with
infants, either to breastfeed or change diapers. Father Thom looked
on the chaos with mild amusement.

"I think this is as good a time as any to take a 10 minute break.
There are coffee and donuts in the room across the hall. Please
help yourselves."

Dana looked at Mulder and called his name, but he seemingly
ignored her voice. "Mulder? Mulder__," she called, but when she
got no response she realized his mind was somewhere else entirely.

Dana tugged at his sleeve. "Hi. You looked like you were a
million miles away," she said, to which Mulder gave a little smile
before Scully continued, "I'm going to go change Adam. See if
they have decaf and grab me cup, please," she pleaded. She then
reached up and kiss his cheek lightly. "And if you find me a
Boston creme donut, you might get lucky later," she purred.

He chuckled at her, his previous contemplative mood shoved aside
for the moment. "I might run out and buy you one myself, with an
offer like that," he said with a low growl. She punched him lightly
in the arm and went off overloaded with Adam and the 'magic bag'.

At the coffee urn, Richard stepped up to Mulder. "Rabbi Gerry
said we had a lot in common, but he never bothered to explain,"
Richard said, accepting a filled Styrofoam cup from Mulder.

"I had thought we were the only couple in the world with this
situation," Mulder admitted shyly. "When we got married, we just
never took the time to consider all implications of dual religions. I
have to admit, I'm finding this a little overwhelming."

"Same thing with us, especially the first time around with Rachael.
Heck, I was ready to run for the hills and drag Rachael kicking and
screaming all the way with me.

"You see," Richard explained, "Leslie and I had worked together
for some time--we were associates in the same law firm. That's
where we met. Last year, we busted out and started our own firm,
as partners. But we knew each other as professionals long before
we grew to love each other."

"We thought we knew everything about each other. I had no idea
how much Leslie's religion meant to her until our wedding. Boy,
was that a madhouse. I think we had every religion on the planet
represented. Leslie's dad and mom are Catholic, but her mom's
family is Methodist, and her sister converted to Moslem when she
got married."

"I know what you mean," replied Mulder. Dane hadn't been to
church in so long, I didn't think it would play a major factor in our
lives when we decided to get married. Of course, I hadn't been to
Temple in an even longer time, and I never figured it would be so
important to me either. I'm not sure who's more surprised, Dane or
me," Mulder remarked.

Richard nodded in understanding. "Did you find me that donut?"
come a voice behind them. Leslie stood, Jason in her arms and the
diaper bag slung over her shoulder.

"Sorry, baby. No French crullers," Richard said apologetically, but
then smiled. "However, they did have raspberry jelly bismarks, so I
snagged one of them."

"That reminds me," Mulder smiled. "I have a search of my own.
Boston creme."

"I think there were a couple left, but you better hurry," Richard
laughed, and Mulder took off for the table where the donuts lay.

Mulder popped the last Boston creme onto a paper napkin just as
Dana returned with Adam. "Sorry, somebody decided he was
hungry," she explained. "Is that for me?" she asked coyly.

Her husband made a great show of almost taking a bite out of the
donut, then at her downcast expression, gave it over to her with a
grin. "That comes at a hefty price," he told her.

"You never were a cheap date, Mulder," she shot back, giving in to
her old habit to call him by his last name when teasing or joking
with him. "Come on, I think Father Thom is trying to get us all
back in the classroom."

The room was slowly filling back up, and Father Thom stood
patiently at the podium, then waved the few stragglers into their
seats. "In the last half of the morning, we're going to talk about
what you can do to raise your child as a Christian. The most
important aspect is example. Children learn by example."

"If they see you attending Mass every week, receiving the
Eucharist, praying at home, they will realize the importance of your
Faith in your life. If you become 'Easter Bunnies' or 'Christmas
Elves'—in other words, only attend on the big holidays and ignore
your spirituality the rest of the year, they will see that and follow
accordingly."

Mulder found himself recalling a different, earlier time, when similar
words were directed at him and his sister, Samantha. He
remembered how sharp the tone of the words were, and how much
it had hurt him and Sam to hear them directed toward themselves.

"Aw Fox, you're nothing but a High Holy Day Jew anyway.
When's the last time your mother lit the Friday night Shabbat
candles, huh? And your sister's going to Hebrew school, but my
mom said your mom said she wasn't going to spend the money on
a Bat Mitzvah for her 'cause it wasn't so important for a girl."

When Mulder remembered the cruel intent of those words his entire
body gave a slight shudder. Especially when he remembered that
after Sam's abduction his own studies came to an abrupt halt.
Apparently his mother didn't think it was worth spending the money
for _his_ Bar Mitzvah either.

"Finally," Father Thom said, "your choice of Godparents shouldn't
be taken lightly. I know everyone has family or friends who they
want to honor by naming them as Godparents. But remember,
these are people who should be _examples_ to your child. Pick
someone who is firm in their faith, and practices that faith in the
world today--not just in the Church on Sunday.

"And it doesn't always have to be a family member. Sometimes, the
best Godparent is someone who has a close relationship to one or
both of the parents and feels a closeness to the child as well. Look
at it this way--Good people make Good Godparents."

Dana took the opportunity to lean over and whisper in Mulder's
ear. "I want to talk to you about that. You know, Ellen and
Skinner won't do for this, since we have to have Catholics, or at
least one Catholic and one from another denomination. Have you
thought about anyone you'd like to have?"

Mulder looked at her in shock. "You're giving me a say?" He
hurried to calm down the look of righteous indignation on her face.
"I mean, I figured this was your bailiwick. To be honest, Dane, I
hadn't thought about it."

"Well, Mulder, the Bris was _your_ 'bailiwick' and you let _me_
have a say. Remember, Ellen was my choice? I'm just giving you
the same courtesy."

"I'm honored, Dane, but I'm fresh out of 'friends' who could fit this
particular bill," Mulder whispered. At the cleared throat of the
woman behind them, he closed his mouth and decided the
conversation could take place when class was over.

True to his word, Father Thom ended class at exactly 11:59. The
Goldfarbs exchanged numbers with the Mulders and each couple
vowed that they would get together, if even just for a quiet evening
of videos and take out pizza. After Mulder received a hug from
Rachel, they parted ways.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Dana asked, as Mulder headed the
car into the street that would take them back to Maggie's.

Mulder was still lost in thought. "Hmmm? I'm sorry, Sweetheart, I
didn't hear you," he apologized.

"I said, that wasn't that bad. Obviously I was mistaken," Dana
mused, crossing her arms in front of her.

"No, no, it's not that at all. I was just thinking. You know we
really do have to give this whole 'Godfather' thing some thought.
Who could we possibly ask?"

"Well, it's sort of traditional to ask someone in the family. I mean,
assuming either of them could make it, I was thinking of asking
either Bill or Charlie," Dana said, turning to make sure Adam was
still sleeping. She missed the grimace on her husband's face.

"There aren't any other choices?" Mulder asked, trying to make the
loaded question sound neutral.

"What do you mean?" Dana asked, now giving him her full
attention.

"I mean, well, Dane, it's no big secret that your brothers hate me,"
he answered sheepishly. "I just think--"

"Fox that is crazy!" she laughed. "They don't hate you! That stuff
at the wedding, that's just the way they are. And Charlie and you
got along pretty well at the reception. Bill is always going to be
like that--he was like that to all of Missy's boyfriends and mine too
for that matter. You just have to learn to live with it."

"Besides," she added, "they probably won't be able to come
anyway. We'll have to think of someone close to home, since the
chances are that Charlie and Bill will be out to sea."

She had her head turned toward the window, admiring the
explosion of April flowers so she didn't hear his muttered 'We can
only hope.'

Maggie was happy to see them and had set out a lovely meal of
sandwiches and homemade potato salad. As soon as they entered
the house, she stole her grandson from his mother's arms and
wouldn't relinquish control until he was fast asleep. Then she
placed him in 'his' bed in the guest room and came down to join
Fox and Dana.

"Oh, Dana, I have the best news," she greeted them excitedly as she
sat down to join the meal.

"What, Mom? Don't tell me, not another Grandbaby," Dana said
with a wink to her husband. Maggie loved babies and made no
bones about it.

"No, not quite that good, but good enough. I talked to both Bill
and Charlie this morning and it looks like they can _both_ be here
for the Baptism. Isn't that wonderful?" she exclaimed.

Mulder choked on his sandwich and recovered by gulping half his
tea. "Yeah, . . . great news, Mom," he offered weakly.

Dana shot him a look, but reenforced his comments. "That's
wonderful, Mom. Will Karen and Tara and the kids be coming out,
too?"

"Well, Karen can get the time off, but Tara can't right now. She'll
have to miss it. But at least your brothers will be home and that's
what really matters," Maggie said, beaming. "Bill was just so
excited about being a Godfather," she added.

This time Mulder choked and sputtered, almost knocking over his
glass in an effort to get the tea to his mouth. "Fox, are you all
right? You must be catching a cold. Dana, you should see that he
gets some rest this weekend."

Dana had kicked her husband under the table, but looked at him
sympathetically, for her mother's sake. "I will, Mom. It's probably
just a tickle in his throat. Nothing serious."

"Well, make sure if it is a cold that you don't give it to Adam,"
Maggie warned.

Mulder glared at Dana over the table, willing her to keep the
subject back on the baptism. She got the hint.

"Mom, ah, how did Bill get the idea that he was going to be
Adam's Godfather?" she asked.

"Well I guess he figured it would be natural, since you're the
Godmother of his oldest child," Maggie said casually. "Fox, would
you like another sandwich?"

Mulder looked across at his wife, the distress obvious to her
knowing eyes. Finally, he realized his mother-in-law was expecting
an answer. "No, Mom, thank you. I think I've had enough already.
If you'll excuse me, I think I hear Adam." Mulder pushed away
from the table, Dana following him with her eyes.

"I didn't hear the baby, did you, dear?" Maggie commented,
picking up her sandwich.

"Ah, Mom, you know Mulder. He's been tuned in to Adam since
the minute he was born," Dana said, and went back to her own
lunch.


========================================================


Mulder laid down on the couch about thirty seconds after he'd
arrived at Maggie Scully's home. It was a long day, and the traffic
from DC to Baltimore made for a hellish trip. Not even Maggie's
Irish Stew could induce Mulder to rise from that couch.

The Mulders decided to stay over at the Scully homestead for the
next few days, because both Bill and Charlie were granted shore
leave to attend the Baptism. Bill's wife, Tara, couldn't take the
time off work, and did not make the trip in from San Diego, but
Charlie's wife, Karen, was meeting him at the Hampton Inn in
Baltimore.

Scully wanted to be able to spend as much time with them as
possible, so it was decided that Mulder would commute back and
forth between Baltimore and DC.

The only problem was, lately they kept loaning him out to ISU for
profiling consults, which meant some days, like today, he was
driving back and forth between Baltimore, DC, and Quantico. But
Mulder was also aware how much Scully loved her brothers,
especially Charlie. He knew she loved Bill because Bill was her big
brother, but she'd always felt a special tie with Charlie.

Mulder understood that kind of relationship as it was one he'd
shared with his own sister, Samantha , so long ago. The fact that
he still felt that bond was a testament to their closeness.

Mulder liked Charlie and remembered how he had tried to get Bill
to understand Mulder better during his and Dana's wedding.

Bill was another story. Mulder could not for the life of him
understand the animosity that Bill felt towards him. Mulder was
more than willing to try and mend fences, if for no other reason
than for Scully's sake. But Bill was not making it easy. When
Mulder had walked in the door twenty minutes ago, Bill Scully had
at least three opportunities to say hello to Mulder , but rather
chose to walk mutely by him.

On the last pass, Mulder said a soft, "Hi Bill," but all the reaction
Mulder received was a dark glance and a quick exit out of the
room. Mulder shrugged his shoulders and decided it might make
for a more pleasant few days if they just stayed out of each other's
way. As Mulder's eyes started to flutter close, he heard the chime
of the doorbell.

When Maggie heard the doorbell, she walked quickly to answer the
door in the hope that Fox wouldn't be disturbed. Upon opening the
door, she was not all together happy with whom she saw standing
on her front porch.

"Hello Patrick. Hello Dennis. It's been a while since you've seen fit
to grace our presence," Maggie greeted, and then muttered under
her breath she added, *now if only it were a little longer.*

"Whajasay, Mrs. Scully?" Patrick asked. Upon receiving only the
patented Maggie Scully glare for a reply, he continued, "Well,
anyway, Hi. I mean Hi, Mrs. Scully, how ya doing?" Patrick
responded awkwardly as Mrs. Scully's mutterings caused him to
lose his train of thought.

"I'm doing just fine, Patrick," Maggie said and wondered if the
young men before her could really be out of adolescence.

"Rumor has it the Big Guy is on shore leave. Is he here?" asked the
other young man, Dennis. Maggie informed them that indeed, Bill
Scully was home.

Patrick Lane and Dennis Reilly were classmates of Bill when they
all attended the Catholic High School together. None of the boys,
(she included her son, Bill, in this mix as well,) in Maggie Scully's
considerable opinion, were going to knock anyone dead with
quantum theories, but at the very least, she'd hoped they would find
honest jobs.

When Bill had finally made the decision to follow in his father's
footsteps and join the Navy, Maggie was very grateful. It was too
bad the other two didn't choose to make their own mother's happy.

"Yes, Bill is here, well somewhere , anyway," Maggie replied. She
looked around expectantly to see Bill pop into view at any given
moment, when suddenly Patrick yelled out in an extremely powerful
voice.

"YO! Scul-ly- … y'all around?" Patrick called out.

Mulder woke up with a start at hearing the overbearing voice, and
when he'd looked up, he saw Bill Scully glaring down at him.
Though he still stared hard at Mulder, Bill Scully shouted out,
"Yeah, Man, I'm here," and then in a dark whisper, he added, "I'm
right fuckin' here." Next, Bill turned on his heels and walked
toward the front entrance to meet his friends.

"Hey Scully-Man, how ya doing?" asked Dennis.

"Fine, Dennis, just fine. How the hell are you doing, man?" he
asked as he grasped his proffered hand.

"Partying hearty, man! You know me, always looking for a good
par-tay!" he said laughing.

At that moment, Dana had entered the hallway and noted who was
at the door. "Why look at that, Curly's gone and invited Moe and
Larry over," she said with a slightly mocking voice.

"Knock it off, Dana," demanded Bill.

Patrick looked first at Dana with more than just a hint of scorn, and
then asked, "Bill, you gotta few minutes to shoot the breeze a
little?"

"Sure, sure, I do," he replied.

"Bill, I thought we'd have a chance to visit with one another
tonight," interjected Dana. "That's why we're all sleeping over here
tonight, remember?"

"I thought you're gonna be here for the next few days," he replied.
"I haven't seen these guys in months, Dana. I'll spend time with
you, I promise. But I'd really like an hour or so to hang out with
my friends, if you don't mind."

Dana was frustrated with her older brother, who she longed to
admire, because she knew he wanted to protect her from harm's
way, yet thinks nothing of brushing her off when he feels she's too
inconvenient to deal with at any given moment.

"Sure. Fine. Whatever." She walked back into the den where
Mulder was still napping on the couch.

Meanwhile, Patrick and Dennis motioned Bill out on to the front
porch. They picked up a brown paper bag and handed Bill a can of
Budweiser. "C'mon, Scully-Man, you're way, way behind us!
Drink up!" Patrick encouraged.

Bill smiled and popped the beer tab and promptly guzzled down the
can in about 45 seconds. When Dennis handed him another one,
Bill gave him a wry smile. Dennis merely said, "You are way, way
far behind us, man."

Bill proceeded to chug down the second and then a third can of
beer in no time at all. Of course, Bill had yet to eat dinner, as they
had been waiting for Mulder to arrive home. The alcohol, needless
to say, was winding its way into Bill Scully's system fast and
furiously.

Bill went to stand up to get yet another beer, when he teetered
precariously on his feet and proclaimed, "Whoa! Me thinks I've
finally caught up, you guys. Fuckin'-A rush, man!"

He tossed another can of beer to each of the men, and took a fourth
one for himself. Bill Scully allowed himself to drink this one a little
more slowly to savor both the taste of the beer, the feeling of the
alcohol high, and the relaxed companionship of long time friends.

"So, how've you guys been?" Scully asked.

"Okay," replied Dennis. Patrick echoed the succinct response.

"What you guys been up to?" Bill asked in a slightly altered speech
pattern.

"Nothing much, man. You know, a little of this, little of that,"
replied Patrick. "Still working at the garage, getting my hands
dirty, but I'm making good money, so I can't complain."

"Still like it?" Scully asked.

"Yeah, I do. I still like it," he replied.

"That's good, Pat. What about you Dennis? Still selling the crap
that Pat's gotta fix up?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Nah, I couldn't stand the hassle of it," he replied. When Dennis
offered no more of an explanation, Scully pressed him for details.

"So what happened? What are you doing now?" he asked.

"I guess I just wasn't very good at it, ya know. I sold a few cars,
but I didn't make their _desired_ quota. So they were gonna put
me on probation, but I said fuck 'em, ya know? So I quit," he
offered.

"Man, that sucks, Den. So, what are you doing now?" Scully asked.

"He's mooching off of his very good friend," interjected Patrick.

"Aw, c'mon Pat, you know it's just temporary. I just don't wanna
jump into any ol' thing. I really wanna find a job that I could be
happy with, ya know?" he said.

"So," Pat said, "what about you Skully-Man? You still really intent
on making the Navy your life?"

"Yeah, I think so. Look, the benefits are good, they provide the
housing, and I know Tara will be looked after if anything should
ever happen to me," he replied.

"Oh, so how is the little woman?" asked Dennis. "Still gettin' any?"

"Yeah, Dennis, and then some," Bill Scully said, with a little bit of a
leer. It didn't mean anything, of course, but Bill Scully always felt
he had to top his friends in their throw away lines. And, throw in
that need on top of five and half beers inside of twenty-five minutes,
and the intensity of the emotions were all the more noticeable.

"Hey, speaking of a little woman, what the hell's the deal with your
sister, man? True she got married last year?" asked Patrick.

"Yeah," Bill replied tersely. "They had a kid too. That's why I'm
on shore leave, to attend the Baptism. I'm supposed to be the little
runt's Godfather."

"Oh. Hey man, I'm not one for tellin' tales, ya know? But I heard
she married a __, well you know, one of those "Hebes," Dennis said
in a conspiratorial tone.

"Yeah," was the succinct reply.

"Oh, man. That's rough, man," replied Patrick.

"They did this whole Jewish thing at her wedding, man. Charlie
and me, we got to stand and hold this God damned tablecloth over
their head. Then he broke this stupid glass, and everyone thought
this was friggin' wonderful." The guys listened and watched Bill in
a drunken horror.

"Then," Bill continued, "they had the nerve to do that thin' they do
to their kids__, you know, they cut 'em. They actually had a fuckin'
party about it. Is that fuckin' out there, or what? They invited me
home for that, but I just said, 'what's that?' ya know? No fuckin'
way was I comin' home for somethin' like that, man."


==========================================================


As the two men commiserated with Bill Scully on the front porch
over what a raw deal he got in gaining a Jewish brother-in-law,
Dana Scully was busy waking the subject of their discussion up
from his nap.

"Fox," she called gently. "Fox, I need you to go get something for
me."

"Wha_?" he asked, still in a sleep induced stupor. When he looked
up, he saw his wife looking down at him.

"Sweetie, I'm sorry to have to wake you, but I need you to get the
new package of diapers from the car," she said.

"Dane? Not for anything, but have you forgotten where the car is?"
he asked with just a hint of annoyance and a dash of sarcasm.

"No, I haven't forgotten where the car is parked, it's just__," she
began.

"__Just what, Dane," he quizzed, while rising to a sitting position.
Mulder was now awake enough to see his wife was disturbed by
something.

"Oh, I know it's silly, but the three stooges are hanging out on the
front porch, and I really never could stand Dennis or Patrick. They
were always teasing me, and Bill, the shmuck, never did anything to
stop them. So, would you mind?" she pleaded.

"Anything for you, my sweet," he said, rising from the couch.
"Diapers in the trunk?"

"Yes, and thank you. I'm going to see about getting dinner on the
table, okay? You must be hungry by now," she said.

"Yeah, I guess I am," he admitted. He stood up, and slipped his
shoes back on to go outside.

As Mulder opened the front door, he could hear the snickering, and
instinctively knew they were talking about him and his family. He
didn't know why he knew this, he just attributed it to his 'spooky
sixth sense.'

That and the next words that came out of one of Bill Scully's
companion's mouth.

"Well, speak of the devil. Look who's here," sneered Patrick.

"Hey, Bill. Did ya ever check?" Dennis asked cryptically.

"Check?" Bill echoed in question.

"Yeah, check his head," he said while jutting his chin toward
Mulder.

Mulder felt himself tense up at the man's words. He remembered a
time when he first arrived at Oxford, and a small group of young
men insisted upon doing the same thing. They were an ignorant
bunch, and this trio seemed to fall into the same category.

"For what?" asked Bill innocently.

"For the horns, man. Doncha know that them Jews have horns on
their head?" he gibed.

"Hey Mulder? That true? You got yourself some horns on your
head?" Bill asked in slurred speech.

"Look, Bill, you're drunk. Dane's getting dinner on the table. I've
just got to get the baby's diapers, and then we can go in and grab a
bite to eat, okay?" Mulder asked, hoping to change the subject.

"He ain't hungry. What kind of name is Mulder?" Patrick
interjected.

"Tha's his last name. You wanna hear his first name?" At hearing
the question, Mulder looked at Bill in annoyance.

"Yeah, man. What's the Hebe's first name? Mogendavid?" he
jeered.

"Fox. The SOB's name is Fox," Bill replied spitefully.

"Oh, that's rich, man. That is absolutely rich. Hey Fox, so you got
any little horns on your foxy little head?" Dennis asked.

"Look, I don't want any trouble. Bill," he admonished as he saw
him reach for another can, "don't you think you've had enough
beer? Let's go in and get some dinner, please."

"Hey Scully-Man! You gonna let some Jew tell you what to do?"
asked Patrick.

"No. No, I'm not," Bill replied.

Patrick stood up, and a second later, Dennis joined him. They both
moved toward Mulder who was now standing on the top step of
the porch.

"Hey, guys. Why don't you just go home, okay? Bill and I, we're
gonna eat dinner now," Mulder pleaded quietly.

"Naw, we gotta do a little fox hunting, ya know. Gotta check out
for those little horny nubs," Patrick said as he and Dennis both
rushed Mulder and body slammed him against the porch railing.

Mulder found himself gasping for air, as it was forced out of him by
the unexpected physical attack. He felt his kidney take the brunt of
the body slam against the sturdy porch railing and attempted to
soothe himself as he tried to rub the area. He then closed his eyes
and tried desperately to concentrate on catching his breath.

When Mulder lifted his head, he looked directly into the bloodshot
eyes of Bill Scully. Mulder knew the guy was totally drunk,
wasted, and certifiably out of it, but that didn't stop Mulder from
feeling really angry with him for allowing the two apes he called
friends to plow into him without a peep.

As Mulder's head cleared for the moment his feelings of animosity
increased. He found himself forming a fist and , as if in slow
motion, felt himself raising his arm to take a swing at Bill Scully.
Mulder felt his fist make the connection with his adversary's face
with a satisfying crunch. Bill let out a small yelp and immediately
reached for his now bloodied nose. Mulder admired his handiwork,
but not for long.

Suddenly, Mulder felt someone yank his right arm behind him
forcefully and then felt someone do the same to his left arm. Before
he could say a word, Patrick began chiding and goading Bill Scully
to get in his shots.

"After all, this guy's nothing more than a dirty Jew who knocked
up your baby sister," Mulder heard him say. At this, Mulder tried
to pull away to protest, but the two childhood chums of Bill Scully
held him fast. Each time Mulder struggled to free himself, he felt
the grips on him tighten even more painfully. Mulder felt himself
reacting in an all too familiar manner to the tortuous pain he felt
every time he fought back. He found himself beginning to
acquiesce and simply accept the pain.

As Patrick and Dennis continued spewing encouraging taunts and
jeers, Bill's face contorted in an expression of pure evil. He too
made a fist, hauled back, and solidly struck his brother-in-law in the
jaw. Mulder drew in his breath as the pain struck, but in the same
instant he attempted to draw himself up into a tiny ball in order to
prepare himself for what he knew would be another Bill Scully
blow.

It didn't help. Bill Scully's entire body filled with rage as he
considered the man before him. This sonofabitch was responsible
for so much unhappiness in his family's life. His sister Melissa
would still be alive if Fox Mulder had never entered their lives. His
father would probably still be alive if Mulder didn't influence his
baby sister and convince her to stay in the FBI.

As a reminder of every one of the ills he felt Fox Mulder bestowed
upon him and his family, Bill threw blow after blow into Mulder's
face, torso, and everywhere in between. Bill no longer saw the face
of Fox Mulder before him, he saw the faces of his father and his
sister, Melissa, pleading with him to save them from this monster
standing before him.

Well, barely standing before him. Mulder tried to fight back, but
the goons' hold on him was far too strong for his already weakened
efforts of escape to be of any value.

"Hey, I want some," cried out Dennis. "I want a piece of his sorry
ass." Dennis continued to hang onto Mulder's left arm tightly, and
began reaming him with his left fist, and planned on continuing this
little bit of one-sided sparring until he was too damned tired.

Patrick squealed like a small, insidious rodent, and began to
pummel Mulder with his right fist, simply because he didn't want to
be left out of the fun. Minutes later, with all of the scuffling and
jostling, Mulder somehow ended on the top step. Suddenly, before
any of them realized what was happening, Mulder, Patrick, and
Dennis tripped and tumbled down the steps and ended up in
a heap on the front lawn.

Bill Scully followed in morbid fascination. He knew, in the back of
his mind, his sister would probably want to kill him if she ever
found out that he was behind this little altercation. Yet, he couldn't
take his eyes off a Mulder as he watched his old chums, his high
school buddies, beat the proverbial shit out of his brother-in-law.

"C'mon Bill, let's go! Your turn, man. Bill, c'mon, take your best
shot!" cried out Patrick, as he was now standing and kicking the
felled agent.

"Yeah, Bill, do it, man! Go Bill! Go Bill! Go Bill!" Dennis began
chanting rhythmically while doing his best to keep up with Patrick
in battering the now semiconscious man.

As Mulder continued to receive the punishing blows to his body
and face, his mind began playing one of its infinite games with him.
Every time Mulder tried to look up, he felt a fist connect with his
chin. Every time Mulder tried to unbend his broken torso, he
would feel a brutal punch to his midsection.

He kept hearing the rhythmical words over and over in his head.
"Go Bill, go Bill, go Bill, go Bill!"

And all he could think about was his father, Bill Mulder, who was
now surely beating him up again for some unknown reason, as
usual. In his mind's eye, Mulder could see the distorted expression
of his father become even more contorted as his attackers
pummeled him even more.

*Don't fight, back, Fox. Don't fight, back, and then he'll stop. He'll
stop if you don't fight back. Please Daddy, stop. You have to stop,
now. Daddy? Please, Daddy, it hurts. It hurts a lot. I'm afraid I
might start crying, and I know you hate it when I cry. Oh God,
please, make him stop. Daddy, please, stop,* he pleaded
wordlessly.

"What's the matter with you, you sonofabitch! Fight back, damn it!"
cried out Bill Scully. "God damned wuss, fight back , damn it!"

"Hey! Pat! Let's look for the little horn nubbies. Hold him down
Bill, c'mon! We got check for the __," Dennis began, but Mulder
reflexively pushed back against his attacker as Dennis began pawing
at his head. "Damn you! Cut this shit out! Pat, I need help here!"

Pat stood up to his full height and stared down at his friend's
brother-in-law, as though he was contemplating an important game
strategy. He watched as Dennis seemed to read his mind and take
hold of Mulder's head in both of his hands to keep it still. Then,
with the adroitness and technical skill of the Colt's # 1 place kicker,
Patrick stepped up and swung his foot first back and then forward
so that his booted toe met with Mulder's skull with a force that
was worthy of any field goal.

Patrick looked up to the sky and held up his hands in a victory
dance. Dennis looked up to offer him a high five, and then both
men turned to Bill who was looking down at the body that was
once someone he knew.

Bill didn't recognize the face. There was so much blood pouring
out of its head and face, Bill didn't recognize it.

It was at that moment of non-recognition that all three men were
brought out of their revelry by a high pitched sound. At first, in
their drunken stupor, Patrick and Dennis thought they were hearing
cheers from an adoring crowd for making the extra point.

Only moments passed until Bill Scully recognized the sound for
what it was. Old Mrs. Lavin. Old, nosy, busybody, Mrs. Lavin was
standing on her front lawn, directly adjacent to their own front
lawn, screaming her bloody head off.

As Patrick and Dennis resumed their attack on the body laid out on
his front lawn, Bill looked down at it again. Next he kneeled down
to take a closer look. He didn't even care that his two buddies
continued to nudge and kick it, even though they occasionally
missed their intended target and kicked him instead!

He reached over and touched the deep cut over the right eye of it,
and realized it was but one of several open wounds that was oozing
blood. Bill turned its head gently and noticed, even by the light of
only one street lamp, there was a great pooling of blood beneath its
head.

He looked at his now bloodied hands and unconsciously wiped
them on his shirt. He stood up and staggered several times, before
he was able to maintain an upright position ,and nudged its head
with his foot, wondering if it was going to wake up.

*_Its_ head. Who the hell is this?* Bill wondered mutely, as he
gazed first at the mutilated body that laid on his mother's front
lawn, and then back towards the voice that was calling his name.

*Damn this sonofabitch! Who the hell is this sonofabitch!?* he
cursed vehemently to himself, and then in a raspy whisper, his
thoughts became slightly audible. "Damn sonofabitch. Who the hell
is this sonofabitch? Who the hell is this?" Bill Scully's facial
expression matched the malice and rage heard in his voice.

*****

Dana and Maggie were having coffee in the kitchen when they
heard the commotion. At first, it sounded like the neighborhood
kids, playing football in the vacant lot two doors down from the
Scully home. There were cheers and growls and the sound of
bodies hitting. Then, there was the chilling sound of a
bloodcurdling scream, which Maggie recognized as being from her
next door neighbor, Mrs. Lavin. At that, the two women
exchanged frightened glances and hurried into the front of the
house and out onto the porch.

The fight, if it could be called that, had left the confines of the
porch and was on in full swing on the front lawn. But it really
wasn't much of a fight. More like a beating. One body lay on the
ground, not moving and three men were taking turns exchanging
blows and kicks on the prone individual. Dana immediately
recognized the one towering figure--it was her brother, Bill. The
other two standing men, she couldn't identify at first for the blood
that had spattered on their faces.

"Bill!" Maggie called out, as she, too, recognized her son. Bill
turned to them at that moment and for a split second, both women
gasped. He was covered in blood, his eyes held a rage and fury
they had never before seen. He looked positively murderous. But
as he saw that there was an audience, and more importantly, who
the audience was, all the fire went out of his eyes and he looked
down at the man on the ground in horror.

"Oh my God. Ohmigod. Ohmigod," he repeated over and over
but made no attempt to stop the others from their continued
pillaging of the helpless body below them.

It was then that Dana's attention was drawn to the figure on the
ground. She first recognized the shoes. They looked just like
Mulder's shoes. His big feet, she'd teased him so often. He had to
order his shoes out of a catalog--stores never carried his size and
width. With a stifled scream, Scully came to the startling
realization that it was her husband who was acting as a make shift
tackling dummy for the two cretans still pummeling him.

The next few moments were pure instinct. Scully reached to her
belt for her gun, but found the space frustratingly empty. She'd
stopped wearing her gun months ago--she was on maternity leave
and certainly didn't need it to handle an infant. Knowing she was
unarmed didn't stop her. She didn't even look over to her mother
as she growled, "Mom, call 911--ambulance and police. Tell them
we have an attack on a federal agent, that'll get 'em here quick!"
Then she ran with all her might off the stairs and down to the brawl
on the lawn.

Scully might have been on maternity leave, but she wasn't all that
rusty yet. The two men still having fun were too intent on their
own actions to notice the auburn topped whirlwind that hit the
nearest one square in the small of the back with a tackle meant only
to bring a man down. A knee jammed down hard on his spine and
he remained immobile, still wondering what the hell hit him. The
second man, she grabbed as he took aim and another swing, but
Scully used the momentum to pull his arm behind him. The joint
separated with a sickening pop. He howled in pain and slumped
to the ground, holding his injured right arm.

Dana looked around, wild-eyed and caught sight of her brother.
Her fury was far from spent, it had actually been increased at the
sight of her brother--her own flesh and blood--hurting the man she
loved more than life itself. A low growl came from deep in her
throat that sounded a lot like 'you son of a bitch' and she tackled
her brother at the knees. The two went down, Dana punching Bill
with all she was worth, Bill laying motionless, almost calmly
accepting the repeated blows to his face from his baby sister. After
several minutes, Maggie was pulling Dana off her brother, pleading
with her to stop.

"Dana, please, please, baby. You have to see to Fox. He won't
wake up, Dana. Please!" Maggie was sobbing and not bothering
to wipe the blood that covered her hands and the front of her
blouse.

"Fox?" Dana whispered and came back to her senses with an abrupt
lurch. "Where's the ambulance?" she cried to her mother as she
crawled the few feet back to where he husband was still laying,
motionless.

"They're on their way, baby. They'll be here as fast as they can,"
Maggie assured her through her own tears.

Dana gently wiped the blood off Mulder's face. It was obvious that
Maggie had recently made a similar attempt, but the moment the
area was cleaned, fresh blood welled up to mar his features again.
"Fox?" she called softly. "Fox, please, wake up. Wake up for me,
Sweetheart." She put her index and middle fingers to his neck and
felt for a pulse. It was too weak and thready to satisfy her, but at
least she found one. Then she calmed herself and pulled down on
the professional curtain she always used when dealing with an
injured Mulder. She examined him carefully. "From the way he's
breathing, he has a couple of broken ribs. His shoulder's out of
place." She pulled up his shirt and almost lost control as she saw
the extent of bruising already coloring his torso. "There could be
internal bleeding--we'll have to wait for the hospital to find out for
sure."

By this time, a police car, lights and sirens blaring it's arrival, came
to a stop in front of the house. Two uniformed police officers
stepped out, guns drawn. The first car was followed quickly by
another and bringing up the rear, the ambulance.

Bill had finally sat up, face blood covered from where he'd been on
the receiving end of Dana's wrath. He stared, terrified at his sister.
"Dana?" he asked, his voice sounding faint in all the noise of the
police cars.

She looked over at him, but there was no longer any emotion in her
eyes. They weren't even blue anymore--just blank and black.
There was no spark of recognition in them at all. One of the
officers walked up to her, while the others moved toward the three
men still scattered on the ground. It was obvious who the victim
was, but if that couldn't be determined, the firey red head standing
like a lioness over her pride was enough of a statement to clue
anyone in.

"Ma'am, I'm Officer Nelson with the Baltimore PD. Uh, could you
tell us what happened here?" the first officer asked.

"Yes. I'm Special Agent Dana Mulder," Dana said evenly. She
didn't miss the cringe from her brother at the mention of her
married name. "And this is my husband, Special Agent Fox
Mulder. I have my badge and idenification in my purse in the
house. Anyway, these three _subjects_ attacked and severely
injured a federal agent. I want them taken to the station house in
cuffs, I want them processed and I will be talking to a judge about
what bail, if any, should be justified. The attack was unprovoked
on an unarmed man. Treat them accordingly," she growled, staring
straight into her brother's eyes. "Oh, and we will be pressing
charges," she added.

"Ah, ma'am, we'll need more of a statement later. I assume you'll
be at the hospital?" Nelson asked. From the looks being exchanged
between the agent and one of the subjects, it was clear that there
was a lot more to this story than he was hearing.

Dana nodded. "You can reach me there." She turned her attention
back to Mulder, who was being hooked up to IV's and blood
pressure was being taken.

"BP's 190 over 110, we may be dealing with renal failure and
severe head injuries," the paramedic was saying. Dana heard
Maggie cry out as if in pain at the sight of her son-in-law, bloody
and unconscious, and her oldest son being led away in handcuffs.

"Dana, what happened here?" Maggie cried, tears streaking down
her face.

"From what I can tell, Mom, it's pretty obvious. Bill saw I loved
someone and decided to kill him--just as he's destroyed everything
I've loved since I was little," Dana seethed. With a quick glance
over to ensure that Mulder was being cared for, she hastily ran over
to where Bill was being placed in the back of a squad car. She
caught the door before it closed and leaned in close enough for her
whisper to be heard. She said only one quick sentence but it was
enough to make the Naval Officer break down into sobs. The
driver heard what she said and wondered at it.

"You are dead to me," was all she whispered and slammed the door
shut, walking quickly back to the man on the gurney.


=======================================================


Dana walked up to the gurney and grasped Fox' hand in hers. "It's
all right, Sweetheart. I'm here. I'll be here when you wake up.
We'll be here for you, me and--" She stopped in midsentence.
"Adam!" She looked frantically for her mother. "Mom! The
baby!" she cried, still not letting go of her husband's hand.

Her mother's voice, now very much under control, came from
behind her. "I'll get Adam dressed and bring the diaper bag.
You're going to ride in the ambulance, aren't you?" Maggie asked
and Dana nodded. "Good, we'll follow in my car. We'll meet you
at the hospital." She reached over and placed a kiss on her
daughter's cheek then reached down to caress her son-in-law's
batter forehead. "I love you both," she whispered and hurried into
the house to collect her grandson and his 'equipment'.

Dana's heart ached as she thought of her little boy, still sleeping.
What in the world could she tell him, years from now, about what
happened here on this day? She didn't want to think of it, she just
wanted to get her husband to the hospital and cared for. She
jumped into the back of the ambulance and it sped off, sirens
leading the way.

When Maggie got in the house, the phone was ringing. "I don't
have time for this," she muttered. "Let the machine pick it up," she
said, half to the living room furniture and half to her own
conscience. Until she heard the voice leaving the message.

"Mom? Mom are you there? Look, if you're out for a minute, I
just wanted to let you know that we're at the motel. I tried Dana's
number, but didn't get an answer, so I figured they were at the
house. Did Bill get in yet? Well, we're here--" It was Charlie.

Maggie grabbed for the phone. "Charles! Is that you?" she
demanded, a bit forcefully.

"Ah, yah Mom. So you are home. Hey, is now a good time to
come over, I mean if the baby's sleeping we'll be--"

"Charlie, listen to me and don't ask any questions. I need you, I
need you very much to call the Baltimore Police Department. See
what precinct an Officer Nelson is attached to. Go down there and
see if you can talk to your brother, Bill."

"Mom! What the hell is Bill doing at the police--"

"Charles Andrew! What did I just say?!" Maggie barked, then got
hold of her temper. "Charlie, I'm sorry. Please sweetheart, it's
very important. When you've spoken to Bill please come over to
St. Anthony's Hospital--do you remember where it is?"

"Yah, Mom, I remember. Mom, please, I don't want to make you
mad, but what is this all about?" He sounded so young and
confused, not at all the 31 year old she knew him to be.

"There was a fight, sweetie. Bill and a couple of his high school
buddies, Dennis and Patrick. They beat him--" Maggie's sobs
stopped her from going any further.

"Mom, mom? Beat who, Mom? Mom, just tell me who they beat
up?"

"Fox, sweetheart. They beat him senseless. He didn't fight back,
from the looks of them. Dana's riding with him to the hosptial, I'm
following with little Adam. Please, you have to be the man of the
family, Charlie. You have to look after your brother. Can you do
that for me?"

"I'm already on it, Mom. And tell Dana--" There was a pause and
Maggie could hear her son take a deep breath. "Tell Dana that Fox
is in my prayers, OK?"

"I'll do that. Charlie, please just hurry."

Charlie had spent over an hour and a half on the phone, finally
tracking Officer James Nelson to the Fifth Precinct of Baltimore. It
would have been funny, had it been any other circumstances--the
Fifth Precinct was only ten blocks from his mother's house. If he'd
thought about it, he would have remembered it as the same station
where he'd gone to report his stolen bicycle in sixth grade. But
time and travel have a way of obscuring memory, even of familiar
places.

He walked into the station, and was at once struck by how much
smaller it appeared. When he'd last been there, he'd been no more
than 11. He could remember stopping outside, wiping dirty tears
from his cheeks. He'd come by himself, because Bill and Missy had
both told him that it was his own fault the bike had been stolen. He
shouldn't have left it out on the front lawn all night, during the
middle of summer when the street kids used to roam the
neighborhood.

When he reached the station, he'd been so scared that he almost
dissolved into tears again at the Sargent's desk. Only after some
gentle questioning did the Sargent learn his name and what he was
there for. He'd taken his statement, handed him a copy of the
report, and promised that if they found a bike matching Charlie's
description, they would call him--first thing.

Charlie had gone home, hoping that by morning the bike would be
back. But it never appeared. The fear and frustration from that
childhood memory was once again caught in his throat as he
stepped up to the Sargent's desk.

"I'm looking for someone. My brother. He was brought in by
Officer James Nelson. My brother's name is William Scully."

The Sargent, a woman, looked Charlie over from head to toe.
Everyone at the station was aware of the three subjects who had
beaten a federal agent, almost to death on the front lawn of one of
the nicer neighborhoods--in the early Spring evening just before
dusk.

"I'll see if I can find Officer Nelson," she told him and paged the
policeman. After a few minutes, Officer Nelson came to the desk.

"I"m Jim Nelson," he said, extending his hand. "How can I help
you?"

Charlie cleared his voice and straightened his spine. "I'm Charles
Scully. I'm here to see my brother, Bill."

Nelson looked the man in the eyes and frowned. "He's being
processed. Won't take much longer, but then he'll be going to a
holding cell."

Charlie's gut dropped to the floor. "What's he being held on."

Nelson jerked his head and then shrugged. "Well, for the moment,
aggravated battery, assault with a deadly weapon--since he admits
to being trained for combat, and assault on a federal officer. I'm
waiting to hear from the hosptial. The guy didn't look that good.
If he dies--your brother is facing murder one."

It took every ounce of strength within him for Charlie to remain
standing. "There were others. How about them?"

Nelson nodded. "Oh, yeah. His 'friends'. Seems they're more
than willing to testify that your brother instigated the whole thing
and threw the first punch. They've got all the same assault charges,
but they'll be charged with voluntary manslaughter if the guy dies.
Seems they didn't know he was an FBI agent. They claim he was
just some creep who married your sister." The look of contempt on
Nelson's face made it obvious what he must be thinking of Bill
Scully and his whole family.

Charlie's anger flared, but he caught himself. "Bill didn't go along
with that story, did he?" he demanded.

Nelson shook his head. "Your brother isn't saying squat.
Everytime we go in to talk to him, all he does is ask about this
Mulder guy--the one in the hospital. Won't talk, so we've got a PD
coming to sit with him. If he doesn't say something soon, before
the arraignment, he's going down for this. The judge will keep him
without bail. Can't let animals run the streets, ya know," Nelson
added with narrowed eyes. "Do you think you can talk some sense
into him?"

Charlie had never before felt so ashamed or so sick. But he saw an
opportunity. "Yeah. I do," he said simply.

"Then let's go see the man," Nelson said and led the way to the
holding cells.

It took another 30 minutes for Bill to finish up processing. Finally,
he was escorted down the hallway by officers on either side and
arms in handcuffs, toward the holding cell. At the sight of Charlie,
looking more than a little scared, but trying hard not to, Bill froze in
his tracks and started to turn back in the other direction. The
officer on his immediate left grabbed his elbow and forced him
forward again. "None o' that," the other officer said gruffly.

The first officer opened the cell door and waved Bill in. "You got a
visitor," he announced, with a glance toward Charlie. "Sorry, the
interrogation rooms are all full. You'll have to stand here and talk
to him."

Charlie nodded but then put his hand out. "Can't I at least sit in
there with him?" he asked. "I won't make any trouble, I promise.
This is just hard--on the whole family. Please, I promise neither of
us will cause any trouble."

The officer looked doubtful that anyone from this family could be
capable of NOT causing trouble, but then his expression softened.
"You been patted down?" he barked. Charlie nodded, holding his
hands out to his sides to allow the procedure again, if necessary.
The officer did so, then stood. "You're clean. They tell us the
Public Defender might have some time for him later, unless he gets
hung up--then he'll see him first thing in the morning. You have
the next 15 minutes for sure." With those words, he swung the cell
door open and motioned Charlie in, then slammed the door shut,
causing Charlie to stiffen and clench his eyes shut.

"How's Mulder?" Bill said, his voice sounding harsh and rough
with tears.

"Don't know. Mom sent me here. What the fuck happened,
Billy?" Charlie demanded, coming to sit on the lone bench next to
his brother.

Bill shook his head, like a man trying to make a nightmare leave. "I
don't know. I wish I did."

Charlie looked at his older brother, taking in the two blackened
eyes, and the 2 inch cut above his left eyebrow. "Well, looks like
Mulder got in some good ones before you guys got serious,"
Charlie remarked casually.

Bill smirked. "Wasn't Mulder. It was Dana. After we--um--"

"Start at the beginning. Who are the two fucks they brought in
with you?"

"You mean Moe and Larry?" Bill barked out what was meant to be
a laugh. "My best buds," he said sarcastically. "Surely you
remember them, Charlie."

Charlie's face dropped. "Those assholes! Shit, Billy, they were
Skinheads before it was popular! What the hell were you doing,
bringing that trash to Mom's house?!"

"They called, said they heard I was in town for a few days and
wanted to go get a drink. I told 'em to come on over, they could
say hi to Mom. I didn't have a car and I wasn't about to go an' ask
old tightass Mul--" He stopped and a sob escaped his lips.
"Fucking shit," he mumbled.

"Bill, tell me what happened. NOW!" Charlie cried out and then
looked quickly down the hall to make sure he hadn't alerted the
guards.

"I don't know, damn it! I don't fucking know! One minute we
were standing on the front porch laughing--like old times, and the
next minute, we--" Bill swallowed hard and from the look on his
face, Charlie thought he might puke right there on the spot. "We,
uh, we were punching the shit out of . . . out of Mulder." The older
man leaned his head back against the cinderbrick wall. "It wasn't
supposed to be like this, Charlie. God in heaven, it wasn't
supposed to be like this. I figured Starbuck would come to her
senses before this. You know how she was--gonna be a bug
scientist one minute, an actress the next--"

Charlie looked at his brother with a furrowed brow. "That was
Missy, Bill," he said softly, but the other man hadn't stopped
talking.

"Dad figured it would take a couple of years. She'd be in the FBI,
figure out what a shitty place that was, and come to her senses.
Then she'd quit that and get a real job, like deliver babies or
something. Something she could be happy with. But noooooo,"
Bill sneered sarcastically. "She gets hooked up with that Mulder
character. He was pumping her before her briefcase hit the desk, I
swear that to you, Charlie! I know he was. Trouble was, Dana
was head over heels with the asshole from the first day. Never had
a damned lick of sense when it came to men. Remember that guy
she was hooked up with when she first got there?"

Charlie thought for a moment. "Willis? Wilson? What the fuck
was his name?"

"Willis, Jack Willis. Hey, talk about eliminating the competition, I
hear that on a case, Willis got killed in the line of duty. Naturally,
Mulder was involved. He's always involved when people get
killed. He was responsible for Missy's death, you know," Bill
accused bitterly.

"Bill," Charlie objected. "We don't know that. Someone was
trying to kill Dana. Mulder didn't have anything to do--"

Bill punched the mattress angrily. "That's just what the little fuck
wants us to believe, Charlie! He plays this innocent 'I want to
protect her' shit and Mom and Dana both lap it up with a spoon.
He's the reason Dana was kidnapped! He's the idiot who stopped
the SWAT team from blowing the fucker's brains out! Of course,
after the fact, after she was gone, Mulder goes in an' strangles the
bastard right under the noses of the Federal Marshalls. At least the
little shit did something right," Bill added with a looked mixed of
contempt and admiration.

"So you're telling me that you beat this guy senseless because you
think he's bad for Dana?" Charlie said evenly, no emotion showing.

Bill swallowed again, but this time he couldn't keep the bile down.
He jumped from the cot and staggered to the toilet set in the wall,
losing what little was in his stomach. Charlie sat on the cot, biting
his lip. After a moment, Bill weakly got to his feet and staggered
back to the cot. "I tell you, Charlie, that bastard is poison. As long
as she stays with him, our whole family is in danger."

Charlie closed his eyes, trying to believe this was just a bad dream
and that at any moment, he'd wake up from it. "Then why are you
so concerned if he lives or dies?" he asked weakly, holding back
tears.

"Cause, Charlie, if he dies, Dana will hate me for the rest of her life.
She's always thought I picked on her. That was fucking shit, you
know! I never picked on her. I was trying to make her strong.
That's what Dad wanted--he didn't want any of us growing up
sissies! But if Mulder dies, she'll hate me. See, if he lives, there's
still a chance she'll come to her senses--"

"What about the baby? What about Adam?" Charlie asked, his
voice tight.

"Hey, he's still half Scully," Bill reasoned. "The kid'll be OK. We
get him away from that bastard father of his--he'll grow up to be
like one of us," Bill said proudly.

Charlie sat there, taking in deep, calming breaths. Finally he turned
to his older brother. "I don't know that I want that anymore,
Billy," he said sadly and got up from the cot to stand by the door,
alerting the guards that he was ready to leave. "I'll tell Mom that
you're OK," he added with a back glance.

"Just let me know if . . . when . . ." Bill stopped again, fought down
another sob.

"Yeah, I'll make sure you know," Charlie sneered and left as
quickly as he could without running.


Charlie made a quick call to the motel. Karen had been waiting for
him to see Bill before going over to the hospital. He told her to be
ready, he was picking her up and they would go to see his mother
together.

Karen tried several times to get Charlie to talk about what Bill had
said, what had happened, but each time Charlie had waved her off
angrily, then regretted his actions. "I just don't want to go through
it more than once, Sweets, OK?" he had finally explained, and she
respected his request.

St. Anthony's was a large hospital, and by the time they arrived,
Dana was in with Mulder. Tracking down Maggie was a bit of
search, but with some effort and the aid of some helpful nurses, the
couple found her sitting with Adam in a family waiting lounge.

Charlie's heart jumped to his throat as he saw his mother, gently
rocking the brown haired baby on her lap. She was cooing a
lullaby, and he could recognize it--Tura Lura Lura. She'd sung it
to him, she'd sung it to all of them when they were little. He bit his
lip and dug his fingers into Karen's hand, then moved forward.

"Mom," he called softly, not wanting to startle her or the baby who
was watching her face so intently, as if trying to place her name.
He smiled. "Hey, big fella," he said, dropping to one knee to be
close to the baby. "You are a looker, aren't you? Got your mom's
eyes."

"His mom's nose, too," Maggie laughed softly. "But that's
definitely his father's mouth. Already I can see we're in for trouble
when he decides to pout in a few months," she added. Then she
reached a free hand up and touched her son's cheek. "Hi,
Sweetheart." She looked beyond his shoulder and smiled at Karen.
"Hi, honey. I'm so sorry about all this," Maggie said sadly.

"Don't worry about it, Mom," Karen said gently. "Can I hold my
nephew? Then you and Charlie can talk."

Maggie smiled at little Adam, then handed him up to Karen. "Hi,
Adam. I'm your Auntie Karen. I want to get to know you.
What's your favorite color?" she cooed at the baby, who did his
best to smile in return. Karen moved over to a couch and sat down
with the baby on her lap and talked to him softly while Maggie and
Charlie found chairs nearby.

"How is Mulder?" Charlie asked anxiously.

"We don't know yet. The doctor is still doing tests. They did an X
ray and found the broken ribs, but there was internal bleeding, so
they took him down for an MRI. If the bleeding doesn't stop on
it's own, the doctor wants to do surgery. Charlie, I've never seen
so much blood--" Maggie choked.

Charlie clenched his eyes again. How in the world could this have
happened? He knew his brother, he wasn't a violent man. He was
a husband, a father. He would never intentionally hurt another
person, not unless he had a good reason. But then, he knew there
was a darker side to Bill that Charlie had always tried to deny. A
part of Bill that had a temper he couldn't always control.

"How's Bill? What's happening?" Maggie asked, bringing Charlie
back to the here and now.

"He's being charged--uh, it's complicated, Mom. Aggravated
battery, assault on a federal officer, uh--" Charlie stopped, deciding
not to bring up the murder charges. He could tell that would be too
much for his mother at that point.

"What has Bill told them? It was a stupid fight," Maggie said
anxiously.

"He hasn't told the police anything. And Pat and Dennis--" It was
so hard to tell her all this, with her eyes misting over. "They always
were jerks, Mom."

"What did they say?" Maggie asked, her eyes narrowing at the
mention of the boys name.

"They told the police--they said it was Bill's fault. That he started
it. That he threw the first punch."

Maggie's eyes flashed with anger. "That's a lie! They know that!
Those two never did amount to anything, and everyone who ever
met them knows they were never in a fight they didn't start!"

"I know, Mom, I know, but Bill's not saying anything, so there's no
other story but theirs at the moment," Charlie said sadly. "The
Public Defender was supposed to see him when I left--either tonight
or early tomorrow. Maybe they can reason with him."

"Charlie, why didn't you reason with him?! That's what I sent you
there to do!" Maggie cried.

Charlie's eyes darkened. "There wasn't any reasoning with him,
Mom. He's got this in his head--he thinks Mulder is poison--his
exact words, and he won't let it go."

Maggie shook her head in disbelief. "He says those things, Charlie,
but he doesn't mean them. He's so like your father--no one will
ever be good enough for your sister."

Charlie shook his head slowly. "No, Mom, it goes beyond that.
Bill blames Mulder for everything bad that's ever happened. He
blames him for Missy's death, for the time Dana was kidnapped--"

"That's silly, Charlie! Fox was devastated when Missy died! He
was more of a support to me than even Bill was. Bill couldn't find
the time to come home but for the day of the funeral. Fox was here
for us the whole time. And when Dana was missing--it was Fox
who came to me with every scrap of information he had, it was Fox
who would give me hope that we'd find her. It was Fox who went
with me to pick out her--" Maggie stopped, breaking down into
tears. "He's been a son to me when you were both too busy with
your own lives. Maybe it's a guilty conscience that's eating Bill.
Maybe he's feeling bitter because deep down he knows that Fox
has been a better son to me than he has," Maggie said, getting
control of her tears with anger.

"Mom, you don't mean that. Bill's your son," Charlie retorted,
quick to defend his older brother. A tiny voice was niggling in the
back of his mind, wondering if maybe what his mother was saying
was the truth. Maybe it was guilt that had been behind Bill's
actions.

"Bill is my son, but I'm not blind to his faults, Charlie," Maggie said
softly. "I'm not saying that I don't love him, or that I think he's
totally bad now. I'm just saying that he has to realize what his
motives are, why he really dislikes Fox. Until he does that, there
will always be bad blood between them. And it's all on his side.
Fox doesn't hold a grudge, and I know he would never hold a
grudge against family. He's not that kind of man."

"What kind of man, Mom?" Dana asked, standing in the doorway.
She'd finally taken the time to clean off the blood, but it still stained
her shirt front. She walked over to where Karen was playing with
Adam and took the baby out of her sister-in-laws hands. "Hey,
Sweetheart. Mommy's back," she cooed.

Charlie didn't miss the skinned knuckles on both of Dana's hands
but decided not to mention anything. "Hi, sis," Charlie said,
tapping her lightly on the head. Dana turned to him as if finally
realizing that he was in the room.

"Hi, Charlie," she smiled and reached up to give him a kiss.

"How's Mulder?" Maggie and Karen asked in unison.

Dana sat down and hugged her son close to her chest. "The doctor
thinks he should be moved up to ICU for a short time, just till the
bleeding stops completely. It's slowed down a lot. I think we
avoided surgery, for once," she said with a grim smile. "With any
luck, he'll only have to stay a couple of days here. Then I can take
him home."

"Dana, I went to see--" Charlie started, but Maggie tried to catch
his eye and ward him off.

"I'm going to see if I can sneak Adam up for a moment. Fox isn't
awake yet, but maybe if he smells Adam's baby scent, he'll open his
eyes," Dana said quickly, taking the baby and leaving the room.

"What was that all about?" Charlie demanded.

"What do you expect, Charlie?" Karen asked, amazed at her
husband's seeming stupidity. "The last person she wants to hear
about is Bill."

"But he's still her brother," Charlie objected stubbornly.

"He beat the crap out of her husband!" Karen stated angrily.
"She's got every right to be mad at him!"

"He's still her brother! Blood is thicker than water!" Charlie
shouted back at his wife.

"Stop it! Both of you!" Maggie intervened. "We've had enough
fighting for one day, don't you think!?"

Karen was the first to back down. "Sorry, Mom. You're right.
I'm sorry. But I think I can understand how Dana's feeling. And
this isn't the first time Mulder's been hurt. Good God, we almost
lost him right before the wedding when his appendix flared up," she
pointed reminded her husband. "They are very protective of each
other, and anyone who doesn't see that is blind as a bat!"

Charlie's anger flared again. "Well, maybe I'm 'blind as a bat', but
I don't need to sit around here and do nothing!" He jumped up
from the chair and marched off down the hall.

"Charlie, where are you going," Maggie demanded. He didn't even
miss a step, just got on the first elevator and didn't look back.

Karen stood beside Maggie, a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Let him go, Mom. He's got a lot to work through. It's hard to
see your idol broken and caked with mud," she said thoughtfully.

"Why are we tearing each other apart, Karen? I just want to know
why?" Maggie begged, tears forming in her eyes again.

"I wish I knew, Mom. I really wish I knew."

*****

Adam was gurgling and cooing as Scully took the elevator up to
the Intensive Care Unit. "Keep it up, Munch Mouth, please," she
smiled at the tiny boy. "Daddy won't be able to sleep through all
this good stuff." The elevator dinged and she stepped off.

She glanced around the reception desk, and noticed that all eyes
were on monitors. If I can sneak into hidden secret government
facilities tucked away in mountainsides, I can sneak a baby onto a
hosptial ward, she convinced herself. She pushed open the double
glass doors to go onto the floor, gently jiggling the baby to keep
him quiet.

They made it to the cubicle where Mulder's bed was stationed.
She'd been with him during the last of the tests, but it still stopped
her heart to see his battered and bruised face. The monitors
surrounding the bed gave off reassuring beeps and bleats, but she
shifted Adam to one arm so that she could take his pulse on her
own, using the big wall clock above his bed to count out the
seconds. When she was satisfied that he was doing better than he
had been when he was brought in, she settled in the chair next to
the bed.

Scully pulled the chair up as close as she could to the bed and
lowered the bed rail. Carefully, she laid the baby on the bed next to
his father, so that both 'her boys' could sense the other was close
by. "We're here, Fox. Just like I promised. We're here and we're
waiting."

Tears were tickling the back of her throat, but she wasn't going to
break down again. She'd already gone to the bathroom twice,
letting her anger, her fear and her frustration out in deep, aching
sobs. She'd done it when she was alone, but she wasn't going to
do that now. Not when Mulder might wake up any minute.

"Hey, Daddy, guess what Adam's been doing?" she smiled down at
the little boy. "He's been such a good boy. He was meeting Auntie
Karen, and keeping Grandma Maggie company while you and
Mommy were busy. But now he's getting tired and he wants to
snuggle with Daddy."

She froze when she heard someone clearing their throat behind her.

"Mrs. Mulder--" Dana didn't recognize the voice, but she cringed
at the tone. It was the tone of authority--more than likely
belonging to the head floor nurse, who was about to bounce baby
Adam off the floor.

Dana turned and faced the woman, fully expecting the inevitable
confrontation, and defeat. But instead, she was quite amazed at the
full fledged smile that greeted her.

"And who is this little visitor?" asked the nurse, whose name tag
read Patricia.

"This is Adam, our son," Dana said with more confidence than she
felt at that moment. She wasn't sure what was happening, but it
seemed to be going her way.

"Well, isn't he a big boy?" Patricia cooed at the baby. "And I think
I see a little bit of both Mommy and Daddy in that face," she added
with a quick grin to Dana. "So, I take it that Adam is here to see if
he can get Daddy to wake up, huh?"

Dana nodded, unconsciously crossing her fingers under the baby's
blanket.

"Well, as long as he doesn't bring in any of his friends or starts a
riot, I guess we can let him stay," Patricia said with a mockingly
serious look.

"We'll keep it down, I promise," Dana returned in kind. She
relaxed then, as Patricia went about her business, checking the IV
lines and the various bags of fluid above Mulder's bed. When her
checks were complete, she turned again to Dana and Adam. "It
really is against hosptial policy, but he's pretty little--I can't see him
running around much or bumping anything over. If someone
complains, I'll have to toss you both out, but for now, we'll just
pretend I didn't see anything, if that's all right with you?"

Dana swallowed and nodded. "That's just fine by us," she assured
the nurse and before the woman had a chance to leave, she caught
her eye. "Thank you," she said softly.

"Think nothing of it. Best medicine in the world--a baby close by.
We'll all take good care of your husband together, Mrs. Mulder.
He'll be out of here and back home with you in no time."

When Patricia was down the hall, Dana breathed a sigh of relief.
"Close one, Mulder, very, very close," she giggled. "Hey, maybe
we can have Nurse Patricia meet AD Walter and she can rub off on
him, what do you think?" She'd meant it to be a joke, but with no
responding comment, it fell flat and made her all the more sad.

"I haven't had a chance to apologize to you for what happened,"
Scully said, slowly, chewing on her lip as she talked. "I mean, I
understand when we get hurt in the field--we accept that, it's part
of the job. There have been times, Sweetheart, when I've thought
you might consider it the first on the list of your job
responsiblities." She moved in closer so that she was stroking
Adam's face with one hand and Mulder's hand with the other. "No
one should have to worry about getting hurt in their own home. Or
even at their in-laws," she said low, finally letting a little of the
anger seep to the surface.

"I wish I could tell you that this is all a big mistake, but I know that
would be a lie, and we don't have lies between us. In all honesty,
Sweetheart, this is really my fault. I was blinded by time and a false
sense of family. I should have known better. Bill--" She stopped
and took a deep breath, while a shudder ran through her body.
"Bill has always been an ass. But he was my big brother and that
meant that I had to love him, you know?"

Silence greeted her, but she continued again. "I know you know.
And I know that you think sometimes that you were a jerk to
Samantha. Well, baby, let me tell you, you were a solid gold, 100
percent _saint_ to your sister, compared to my big brother Bill,"
she sneered.

"Look at how you've spent your life? Looking for Samantha. And
when I was missing--what did you do? Mom has told me how you
would call her at 7 in the morning to give her information that
you'd dug up during the night. You never slept. I have that on
solid, eye-witness account, by the way. I shouldn't tell you this, but
one day I was cleaning the file cabinet. Well, actually, I was
looking for some autopsy photos that I was pretty sure you'd
misfiled--and don't give me that, you know you misfile stuff all the
time. Anyway, I found the note that the Chief Detective on the
Trinity murders in Los Angeles had sent to Skinner. How it ended
up in the case file and not your own personnel file, I'll never know.
But he requested to Skinner that you be placed on medical leave
until such time as it could be determined that you had sufficient rest
to do your job properly. He even noted that while he appreciated
the saving to the tax payers, he thought that even FBI agents should
take a couple of hours off to get some sleep. Skinner wrote him
back, it was attached to the letter, telling him that everything was
under control. The date on Skinner's letter, by the way, was three
days after I'd come out of the coma."

"You would move heaven and earth to find your sister. You
moved heaven and earth to find me. Bill--all Bill can think about is
his own ego, his own selfish need to be in control, not just of his
own life, but all our lives, too. Mrs. Lavin told Mom that she heard
them calling you names--slurs against the Jews. I wish it were that
simple, Sweetheart. Bill doesn't hate you because you're Jewish,
even I know that. Bill hates you because I love you, and you love
me, and he doesn't fit in that equation. It's sick, it's twisted, but
there it is and I don't care what anyone thinks, this time--so help
me God, this time--he's not going to get away with it." Her teeth
were clenched so tightly by this time that the words almost didn't
get past her lips. Adam, sensing his mother's distress, started to
fuss and Dana picked him up and rocked him while hot tears
streamed down her cheeks.

She didn't notice her younger brother standing just outside the
doorway, well within earshot of everything she had just said.

"Billy's not like that, Dana," Charlie said softly, coming into the
room and standing next to his sister. "He wants to keep you safe.
He sees all the things that have happened since you met Mulder and
he doesn't want you hurt anymore!"

"Ah, Charlie, grow up!" Dana demanded tiredly. "Quit painting
Bill as the action hero in this drama and see him for what he is!
He's a bigot and a bully and an ass! He hurts those closest to him
because it makes him feel important. You were too little to
remember all the things that went on. You used to hide when Bill
would tear up our dolls or go into our room and wreck our toys.
You were too afraid you'd be next. You followed him around like
a damned puppy and all the time you were just feeding that
enormous ego of his. The happiest day of my teen years was the
day Bill enlisted in the Navy. I couldn't wait to come home to a
house where my phone calls weren't listened in on, where my boy
friends weren't threatened at school. Missy couldn't take it and she
left before he did. She went all the way to California to get away
from it. So don't stand here and tell me about Saint Bill the
Protector. Please, please, just wake up and remember what it was
really like."

By this time, little Adam was sopping up the tension in the room
and let out an ear shattering wail. Dana looked down at him, then
at Mulder. Adam wasn't going to be appeased by a simple 'jiggle'
this time--he wanted comfort and he wanted it NOW.

"Charlie, please, I need to feed the baby. Would you sit with Fox,
just for a minute or so? I'll be back as soon as I get him settled."

There was no way to refuse such a request. "Of course. Hey, take
all the time you need. And Dana, I'm sorry if I upset you. I didn't
come up here to do that."

She smiled at him sadly and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "I know
you didn't Charlie. Thanks." She started out the door, but stopped
at the doorcasing. "If he wakes up--"

"I'll tell him you're just outside for a minute. Don't worry. He
won't wake up alone," he assured her.


================================================================


After Dana and the baby left, Charlie stood at the bedside for some
time, afraid to move. There were so many tubes, so many wires, so
much--stuff, and all of it looked life threatening if disturbed.
Slowly, being careful not to touch the bed in any way, Charlie sat
down on the chair Dana had vacated. At that level, he could plainly
see the bag attached to the siderail of the bed, and see the reddish
yellow fluid slowly dripping into it. It hit him square in the chest
that it was blood. He closed his eyes against the rush of bile that
burned his throat. No way could he throw up here--no frigging
way!

He kept his eyes clenched shut. As the seconds grew into minutes,
he realized that the sounds of the monitors weren't really scary any
more--they were reassuring. It was frightening, what had
happened, but at least, according to all the beeps and blurts he was
hearing, his brother-in-law would survive. Charlie gave up a silent
prayer of thanksgiving and figured it would be safe to take another
look.

"You know, Mulder--I never thought you were that bad," he said
softly, opening his eyes and taking in the battered man before him.
"I mean, Dana's dated some real winners in her time, but you--at
least you always treated her well. 'Course, I'm getting most of my
information from Mom. But believe me, she's a reliable source.
She never liked that Willis guy much. Dana only brought him home
one time, but Mom was always commenting on how he didn't seem
that interested in Dana as a person--didn't treat her like an equal.
You, however, all I heard about you was the opposite. There were
times when I wondered if Mom was just going to adopt you when
she got tired of waiting for you to ask Dana to marry you," he
chuckled. "But then, I hear it was the other way around on that,
too, wasn't it?"

"You've made my sister very happy. I can tell that everytime I see
her with you. And little Adam--oh, man, he is the icing on the
cake. When I got that picture you took, of the two of them in the
hospital--Mulder, I've never seen my sister look so . . . I don't
know . . . so _pretty_. I mean, she just glowed, even in a Poloroid
picture you could see it. I put it on my locker so I can see it
everyday--next to my pictures of Karen and our kids. I have it
memorized already. It makes me feel happy every time I look at it."

"Man, I'm so sorry about what happened. I wish I'd been there. I
mean, Bill can be a jerk, I know that. Dana doesn't think I see it,
but I do. He was a jerk to you at the wedding and you were sick
and all--made me mad. But what could I do, I'm just the kid
brother. Nobody listens to me," Charlie sighed in defeat. "Just the
kid brother," his voice trailed off.

"One thing Dana's right about--Bill shouldn't get away with this. I
mean, he was drunk and all, but that's no excuse. He knew he was
asking for trouble when he let those two in the house. The only
thing that's kept them out of jail so far is that Pat's uncle is a judge
and wouldn't let any charges against him go to trial. Bill knew that
going into this. I wouldn't put it past him to have figured
something like this would happen from the outset." Charlie sighed,
and put his head in his hands. "Dad would straightened him out,
you know. He wouldn't have let it get this far. He would have told
you two to go out and get good and wasted and not come home
until you made nice with each other--Dad was like that. But
without Dad here--Bill has it in his head that he _is_ Dad, and that's
not right. I can't let it go on anymore. It's just not right."

He sat there in the silence, thinking about what he was going to
have to do. "I'll get him to see the light, Mulder. I promise you,
on my father's grave, I'll do everything in my power to get him to
see the light," he whispered.

A few minutes later, Dana was back. Little Adam was sleeping on
her shoulder. Charlie jumped up out of the chair and eased her
down into it. "Look, I got some things I need to do," he said
hastily. "Mom and Karen are just downstairs. I'll tell 'em you're
up here and maybe they can come in and spell you when you need
to change a diaper or something," he added and started for the
door. As he reached the doorway, he thought better of what he
was about to do and turned back, placing kisses on his sister's and
his nephew's foreheads, then reached over and placed a kiss on
Mulder's forehead as well. "I love you. All three of you," he
whispered in Dana's ear, and this time left without looking back.

Tears were in Dana's eyes as she took up her husband's hand in her
own. "See, we aren't all bad," she said softly She gave the long
fingers a kiss, and settled in to wait.

*****

Officer Jim Nelson stood at the reception desk to the ICU and
looked uncomfortable. He'd taken the witness's statement, talked
to two of the three men involved in that attack, so now he was left
talking to the victim's wife. He really didn't want to do this.

>From the sounds of it, at first, it appeared racially motivated. Mrs.
Lavin might be up in years, but her hearing was top notch, since she
picked up on the chirp of his radio from the porch of her house,
some 30 feet away. He had no doubt whatsoever that she really
had heard the assailants calling the victim 'Jew boy' and 'looking
for horns' on his head. It made Nelson sick to his stomach.

Then the story got even worse. During the questioning of the two
talking assailants, one of them mentioned that the other subject, Bill
Scully, had called them over to 'knock some sense' into the
'asshole' his sister had married. It now appeared that this had all
the makings of a family feud and that was just about all Nelson
could take.

But the straw that broke the camel's back came when an Assistant
Director of the FBI called Nelson personally and told him that the
Bureau would be investigating this matter to the furthest of their
jurisdiction and that in all likelihood, they would be bringing
charges of their own.

Jim Nelson really didn't need this shit. But he was stuck with it.
He tapped his pen on the counter to get the attention of the nurses
at the reception desk. "I'm looking for Agent Fox Mulder. I
understand his wife, Agent Dana Mulder should be somewhere in
the vicinity?"

Two of the nurses looked at each other, but Patricia waved them
back to their monitors and walked over to the counter. "And you
are--?"

"Officer Nelson, of the BPD. I'm hear to take Mrs. Mulder's
statement," he said nervously.

Patricia narrowed her gaze, giving Nelson the impression that she
might just tell him to take a flying leap, but in the end, she huffed a
bit and then led him to the cubicle. Nelson stood nervously at the
doorway, looking in on the woman and the infant sitting in a chair
and the bandaged man laying on the bed in front of them. "When
can I get transfered to Vice?" he muttered to himself.

Dana heard him and spun in her seat. For a moment, she couldn't
place him, but then her eyes fell on his name tag under his badge
and she remembered. "Officer Nelson, shouldn't you be off duty by
now," she asked lightly.

"Uh, no ma'am, I work the night shift. I was just coming on when
we got the call to your Mom's place," Nelson said, coming into the
room. He tried not to stare at the man on the bed, but the stark
white of the bandages and the hint of pale discolored skin
underneath kept drawing his eyes. "They really did a number on
him," Nelson muttered again.

"Are you speaking to my husband, or to me?" Dana asked, shifting
the baby to one arm and getting up.

"No one, ma'am. Just thinking outloud. I hate to do this to you--"

"But you need a statement. I understand completely, Officer
Nelson. I've been on the other side of this fence far too long to get
upset at someone who's just doing his job. Let me get my mother
to sit with Fox and my sister-in-law to watch Adam and we can find
somewhere to talk."

Dana led the officer to a small waiting room. "We should be OK
here. I'm sorry, but I really don't want to leave the floor," she
explained evenly.

"How is your husband, Mrs. Mulder?"

Dana smiled at the policeman's concern. "He's going to be fine.
The doctor has him in ICU as a precaution more than anything. We
avoided surgery, which is good, but the damage to the kidney still
requires monitoring for the next few days. He should be waking up
sometime tonight, maybe early tomorrow. After that, I expect them
to move him to a regular room." She got up and poured them both
coffee from a pot in the corner. "It's black. I think there's some
cream and sugar here--"

"Mrs. Mulder, uh, that's my job, ma'am," Nelson smiled self
consciously. Dana looked at him and laughed grimly.

"Sorry. Old habits," she said casually. "Shall we begin?"

Nelson nodded, taking out his notebook. "Did you see the
argument?"

Dana bristled, then fought hard to get back to some control. "I
hardly call it an 'argument', Officer Nelson, but no, I didn't see the
beginning. I got there for the end. My mother and I were in the
kitchen, which is in the back of the house. We heard some noises,
but I thought it was some of the neighbor kids putting together a
game of touch football. We used to do that when we were kids.
Then I heard Mrs. Lavin scream. That's when we went out to see
what was going on."

"So you heard no verbal fighting--no argument?" Nelson asked.

"None. I came out on the front porch and saw the three assailants
kicking a body laying on the lawn. Upon closer inspection, I found
that body to be my husband. I then used my training to take down
the assailants before further damage could be inflicted."

"Mrs. Lavin says the one 'assailant'--your brother, had stopped his
part of the attack and you still 'took him down' as you put it,"
Nelson said firmly, flipping back through his notes.

Dana's eyes darkened. "I was not convinced the threat was
eliminated. I did what I thought was necessary to protect my
partner--uh, I mean, my husband."

"It's all right, ma'am. I've spoken with your direct supervisor. I
know the history here, at least some of it." Nelson took a sip of his
coffee, bracing himself for the next few lines. "Ma'am, isn't it
possible that this was just a family squabble that got out of hand?"

Dana's eyes narrowed even further as she gave the officer before
her the once over. She noted with a predator's glee that he shifted
uncomfortably on his seat under her gaze. "Officer Nelson, of one
thing you can be assured. This was an unprovoked attack on an
unarmed man. Beyond that, at least one of the subjects had full
knowledge of my husband's occupation. Furthermore, my brother,
as you refer to him, has been trained in hand to hand combat and
knows how to kill with his bare hands. Make no mistake, I am not
taking this lightly. And I want those three prosecuted to the
furthest extent of the law."

"Well, ma'am, those are almost the exact words of your boss,"
Nelson said grimly. "And rest assured, if you sign this complaint,
that is exactly what will happen." Dana reached for the paper and
pen Nelson offered her. He held back the pen, just out of her reach.
"You realize, of course, that you are acting on your husband's
behalf in this matter. Since you did not witness the origin of the
incident, it would be his testimony that would carry the most
weight."

Dana stared the officer straight in the eye. "I understand that,
Officer Nelson."

"I'm just saying this because, well, if he wakes up--"

"_When_ he wakes up," Dana interjected.

"When he wakes up," Nelson corrected himself, "he can still drop
the charges."

"I don't foresee that happening," Dana said flatly and signed her
name with a flourish. "When is the arraignment, by the way?"

"We should be able to put it all together tonight, then it's just a
matter of how crowded the docket is tomorrow. I would expect
we could have it before noon."

"Thank you. I'd appreciate it if you notified me of the time."

"Certainly, Mrs. Mulder. I hope your husband is back on his feet
real soon," he added, shook her hand and left.

*******

She had stayed awake till Adam's 2 o'clock feeding. Then, the
natural exhaustion, compounded with the tension and worry
dragged Dana's eyes shut and wrapped her in a blanket of sleep.
Maggie had placed little Adam in his infant seat in the lounge,
where he was sleeping snugly. She had convinced Karen to stretch
out on one of the couches in the lounge. With all her charges
settled in for the night, Maggie Scully finally got a few minutes of
quiet with her son-in-law.

Earlier in the evening, she'd placed a call to Greenwich,
Connecticutt. Elizabeth Mulder had been justifiably angered at the
attack on her son, but hadn't offered to come down to be with him.
"Let me know when he comes around," she'd requested, and
Maggie had vowed that she would do just that. She also promised
herself that if his own mother wouldn't sit by his side, she would.

Now, Maggie smiled sadly over at her daughter. Dana always
could fall asleep anywhere. The highbacked lounge chair that she
was cramped in looked incredibly uncomfortable to Maggie, but
Dana was sound asleep. Of course, caring for a newborn brought a
new meaning to the word 'tired'. And dealing with an injured
husband, although certainly familiar to Dana, still took a lot out of a
person.

Maggie then looked over at the man laying on the bed. Man, huh!
Maggie considered. He certainly didn't look like a man. Not like a
father, a husband, someone trained to kill on sight. He looked like
a little boy would had a tremendous spill off his bicycle. It broke
Maggie's heart a thousand times over that her own flesh and blood
could harm someone she held so very close.

She reached into her pocket, pulled out the rosary the children had
given her for her birthday many years before, and prayed for them
all.

*****

Richard Goldfarb was bushed. He felt like he'd already put in a full
day, yet it was only 7:30 A.M. Public Defenders put in long days,
and he knew that, but some days just seemed longer than others.
He had five cases on the docket for this morning and he was just
given his sixth. Six cases and court wasn't even officially open yet.
Oh joy.

The fact that Rachael developed a bout of bronchitis and spiked a
104 degree fever at 2 o'clock in the morning might have had
something to do with his grim disposition. He and Leslie were up
half the night, between having had to give Rachael lukewarm baths
to bring down the fever, and she having had to breast feed Jason
every 3 hours. He felt horrible about leaving Les to deal with a
sick & cranky three year old and their newborn son, but he didn't
have a choice.

He was never going to get rich being a part-time PD, but it helped
pay some bills. He was very grateful Leslie decided to stay away
from criminal law and stuck with Estate law. It, too, didn't
necessarily pay the real big bucks, but it kept them in pampers and
apple juice. What more could a person ask for?

As he read the sparse facts listed on the latest file he was handed,
Richard thought of something to ask for, a transfer from this case.

"John? John, could I ask a really big favor?" Richard asked of his
colleague in the PD office.

"You can ask, Rich, but no guarantees," he replied.

"Want to trade with me this last case you handed me? I don't think
this one makes sense for me to be the defendant's lawyer," he said.

"Oh? Why do you say that?" asked John.

"It's a hate crime, John. Against a Jew. Doesn't the name 'Goldfarb'
seem a little ethnic to you?" asked Richard.

"Are you afraid he's gonna hurt you?" asked John.

"Well, no. I guess not," answered Richard, "I mean he'll be cuffed
and we're in the station, so no, he won't hurt me."

"Are you afraid he's gonna hurt your family?" John questioned.

"No, I guess I'm not really worried about me or my family
personally being hurt by the asshole, " Richard offered.

"Good. So what's the problem?"

"Doncha think the _defendant_ might have a problem with a Jewish
attorney?" asked Richard, exasperated.

"Yes." John smiled, and then said, "Good luck," and left the
building to prepare for his caseload.


========================================================


As Richard walked into the small, oversized closet they called a
conference room, he observed his client. He was a big man. Even
though he was sitting, he could tell that William Scully, Jr. was a
big man. And bruised. Apparently the victim got off at least one
good shot at his assailant.

Bill Scully looked up to see a man in his mid to late thirties, with
dark curly hair, neatly trimmed beard and mustache, walk into the
room. The man came in without a word, and just sat down in the
chair across the table from where he was already seated. Scully
would have stood up to greet the man, whom he presumed was his
lawyer, but he was cuffed to the chair.

Bill didn't make eye contact at all with Richard. Richard remained
absolutely mute while he perused the scant information listed in the
file. When Richard felt Scully finally had enough, he began.

"I'm from the Public Defender's office. I'm here because you
requested an attorney and indicated that you could not afford to
hire one of your own choosing, so here I am. It came to my
attention that you were brought in last night but did not request an
attorney until this morning. I would like to know why?" Richard
asked in his most even, professional voice.

Scully looked at the PD carefully now. He wasn't sure just how
much to tell him, but he then realized that this guy might very well
be the only chance he had to get out of there, so he laid it out on
the table for him.

"I was assuming that my _loving_ family," he said with a slight hint
of a sneer, "would have hired our family lawyer and have him come
last night," he offered. "But when night turned into dawn, I
realized my family was hanging me out to dry all by myself. So, I
asked for assistance, and I assume you are it."

Richard listened to the words, but more importantly listened to the
voice behind the words. This guy put up a great front, but there
was just enough tremor in the voice to prove to Goldfarb William
Scully, Jr. wasn't a total loser. The poor shmuck seemed really
surprised his family didn't come and back him up.

"So," Goldfarb began, "you make good assumptions, sometimes.
Yes, I am your Public Defender. You're basically stuck with me
unless you can prove that I can't defend you properly. I want to get
one thing out the way right at the start.

"My name is Richard Goldfarb. You have a problem with that?" he
challenged.

Billy shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the lawyer's
pronouncement of his name. Under the circumstances, he
understood the reason for the question being asked. He did not,
however, have a clue as to what kind of answer the lawyer wanted
from him.

In reality, he was uncomfortable, but not for the reason the lawyer
might have thought. He thought it was good that his attorney was
Jewish. He didn't like that his sister chose to marry someone that
wasn't Catholic, but he'd always heard that Jewish lawyers were
pretty smart, so maybe this guy could help him dig himself out of
this shithole of a mess. He looked at Goldfarb and contemplated
the question for a moment more before he answered:

"No," he whispered.

"What?" Goldfarb asked, as he wanted to make his point loud and
clear to this particular defendant. Richard Goldfarb had already
gone through enough incidents in his life that served as constant
reminders of his Jewish heritage and the unexplainable hatred some
groups of people felt toward him because of his heritage.

He was pretty much desensitized to being called a "jew bastard,"
and "kike" but he wanted to make sure this defendant knew he was
not going to tolerate anything that would compromise his own,
personal, state of well being.

"No," Scully repeated a little louder this time, "I don't have a
problem with it."

"Good. I don't have a problem with it either," Goldfarb concurred
with the sarcasm sprinkled sparingly, for now. "Now, tell me what
happened."

Bill Scully began the sanitized version of the past night's events. He
explained how he had arrived in town yesterday on shore leave for
a family event, and he was staying at his mother's home in
Baltimore. His wife, Tara, was back home in San Diego with his
kids, because she couldn't get the time off from work.

He went on to explain how a couple of his old high school chums
came to the house for a reunion of sorts. They brought some six
packs of beer, which they promptly began drinking on the front
porch of his mother's home. He readily admitted to being
inebriated.

Bill Scully then also admitted that he and his friends became rather
emotional during a discussion they had concerning the victim. He
admitted that they had an altercation with the victim.

"An altercation," Goldfarb echoed. "You say you had an
altercation with the victim. Mr. Scully, that seems to be a bit of an
understatement considering what the charges are now__."

"What do you mean, 'considering what the charges are now?' Have
the charges changed?" Billy asked anxiously.

"Oh let's see… It was aggravated battery, assault with a deadly
weapon__," Goldfarb paused there for a moment. "You had a
weapon with you?"

"I'm trained for combat, Mr. Goldfarb. That's the police's way of
sticking it to me with one more charge," he angrily explained.
"Sonofabitches will do anything to do me in."

"Excuse me? It says here the person you assaulted is a Federal
Agent with the FBI__," Goldfarb began, and then felt his body
shudder for a moment. Goldfarb thought this had to be an
incredible coincidence. He had only just met the first two FBI
agents he'd ever met but a few days before. He couldn't conceive
of the possibility that__.

"Mr. Scully, what is your relationship to the victim?" he asked with
an even tone.

"He's married to my sister, Dana," he replied with a hint of emotion.

"Dana?" Goldfarb repeated. He thought this couldn't be happening.
He damned the file he had in his hand for being so sparse in its
information.

"Mr. Scully, what is your brother-in-law's full name?" he asked, as
he picked up his pen to fill in the blank spaces on the form.

"Fox," Scully responded and Goldfarb found that he released the
breath that he was unconsciously holding. He naturally figured the
victim's last name was Fox. "And his first name, Mr. Scully?"

"That _is_ his first name," Bill said with a sardonic grin. "His last
name is Mulder."

Goldfarb sat motionless. He knew if he opened his mouth to speak,
nothing would come out, so he sat mutely as well. His mind raced
with thoughts that were inconceivable to him just moments before.
It was bad enough being maligned and taunted by ignorant
strangers, but by your brother-in-law? How could this have
happened to Mulder? How could this have happened to Dana?

"The victim's name is Fox Mulder, then." Goldfarb was very proud
of himself. He made that statement without his voice cracking or his
hands squeezing the life out of Bill Scully's neck.

"Yeah. So are there any more charges?" he asked.

"Well, apparently there are pending state charges of attempted
murder and federal charges associated with hate crimes. You have
a better chance at getting off of the attempted murder charges than
those associated with hate crimes, Mr. Scully."

"That bad, huh?" reflected Bill.

"Yes, Mr. Scully, that bad," confirmed Richard Goldfarb. "Listen, I
need to check something out with the front desk. I'll be back
shortly." Goldfarb stood up slowly, picked up the folder, and left
the room.

Richard stood outside of the room and leaned against the wall. He
dropped the file to the floor and pressed his palms back against the
wall, as if they were needed to keep the wall from tumbling down
on top of him. His head pressed hard against the wood plaster
walls, and if he pressed any harder he thought he might actually
break through.

John Thomas, Richard's colleague, was coming down the hallway
when he saw his fellow attorney looking like death warmed over.

"Richard? Hey, Richard? Are you okay?" he asked.

"John, I don't know if I can do this. I mean, I don't know if I can
ethically do this."

"What do you mean?" John asked.

"I, I know the victim," Richard replied.

"How? Are you close?" he probed.

"No, not yet. I mean, we'd only just met. At the Temple. And
then at the Church. I mean we've only seen one another two times,
but it's crazy. It's like we're living parallel lives," related Richard.

"Rich, I don't think meeting two times constitutes a relationship, so
I don't believe there would be any problems regarding ethical
conduct. Are you okay?" he asked.

"You're gonna make me do this, aren't you?" Goldfarb asked
incredulously.

"Hey, maybe they'll drop the charges," John proposed.

"God, I don't even know how badly he's injured. Our file shows
jack shit about what happened and what condition Mulder was left
in," griped Goldfarb.

"Look, I'm sure the DA's office will have more information and
photos before long. Why don't you check with the Sergeant and
see what might have come in this morning. You could also call the
hospital to check on the guy's condition."

"Yeah. Okay, I'll do that," Richard replied with a shaky breath.

He walked over to the desk and checked with the Desk Sergeant,
and sure enough, there were additional files now available for the
District Attorney and for the Defense Attorney. Goldfarb thanked
the Officer and started reading the medical reports. He became sick
to his stomach as the severity of Mulder's injuries became more and
more apparent. But nothing had prepared him for what he
uncovered next.

"Ohmigod," he whispered. Goldfarb had never seen so much blood
before. There was also an inordinate amount of bruising on
Mulder's torso, front and back. His face was a mass of welts and
contusions, and his eyes were swelled shut. He also suffered a
severe concussion from a blow to the back of his head.

He noted the victim was receiving dialysis for a poorly functioning
kidney. Goldfarb's eyes began to well up, as he couldn't help but
feel sympathy for not only Mulder, but for Dana and her mother.
What an incredible burden this poor excuse for a human being had
placed on this family. Whatever could have possessed him to do
this to another human being, let alone his own brother-in-law?

Richard reentered the conference room that held Bill Scully. He
walked over to the small table and, putting on a performance
worthy of an academy award, he nonchalantly tossed the photos of
the crime scene, face down, onto the table.

Richard than silently sat down in the chair across from his client and
observed Bill Scully's expression of puzzlement. Richard subtly
pointed toward the overturned photos, as if he were making some
kind clandestine offering, and waited for Scully to take the bait.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Scully poked at the splayed pile of unknown prints until, finally,
curiosity got the best of him and he turned one over. The first
photo was an overview shot of the crime scene, and did not lend
itself to too many details. Scully looked at it without expression,
and when he looked up at Richard, he saw only cold, dark eyes
staring back at him.

"Turn over another one, Mr. Scully," Richard prompted.

"What for?" Scully asked suspiciously.

"I think it's important for you to see what the evidence is, Mr.
Scully," he replied.

"Evidence?" Scully echoed. When all Richard did was nod, Scully
slowly turned over a second photo. This time there was a long shot
of the victim laid out on the gurney at the crime scene. Once again,
it was a long shot, and did not show the injuries in any great detail.

When Richard said, "Try another, Mr. Scully," Bill gingerly picked
up a third photo. The third photo showed a face down view of the
victim's head and torso. The attorney watched his client look at the
photo with a great deal of detachment. It was almost as if Scully
didn't recognize the fact that the horrendously abused victim in
these photos was his brother-in-law.

"Oh, go on Mr. Scully. Don't stop now," Richard Goldfarb insisted
coldly as he pointed to the, as yet, unturned photos. Bill looked at
Richard warily and began to wonder what this guy's problem was.
He was supposed to on _his_side, but you would never know it
from his disposition.

"Umm, look, Mr. Goldfarb? Is there a problem here? I mean,
you're supposed to be my lawyer, but I don't get the feeling you're
exactly on my side here, you know?"

Goldfarb stared mutely at Scully and then merely tapped the next
unknown photo. He watched as his client reached over to turn the
next photo. It was another shot of the victim's head and torso, only
this time the victim lying face up.

Pay dirt.

William Scully's eyes opened wide as he looked at the picture. He
noted the swollen shut eyes, and the bruised right cheek. The facial
abrasions, welts and open wounds jumped out from the photo. He
saw the black, blue, red and purple contusions on his neck and
torso. There were numerous cuts marked by dried or clotted pools
of blood all up and down his body and face.

Bill Scully fingered the victim's face. Next, he traced the outline of
the victim's torso. Then, as his eyes welled up, he pointed to each
welt that protruded from the victim's body. Finally, as if the
realization of who this victim really was had finally hit him, William
Scully, Jr. officer in the United States Navy, tried to lurch forward
to the nearby garbage can as he did his best to keep from throwing
his guts up all over the evidence.

Since Scully remained chained to the chair, Richard Goldfarb
accommodated his client, got up, and got the waste basket for him
to heave into. While Scully vomited, Richard turned over the
remaining pictures that showed in even greater detail the damage
that Scully and his buddies had done to Fox Mulder.

He lined them up as neatly as possible so that Scully could have the
best possible view of them. When the accused was finally reduced
to no more than dry heaves, Goldfarb got up and got him a glass of
water. He handed it to him with the instructions to drink small sips.

Scully gratefully accepted the Styrofoam cup and did as he was
told. As he sipped, he made a concerted effort to avoid looking
back at the pictures, but his eyes kept wandering back to them. It
was similar to the feeling he'd had while passing a bad car accident
on the highway. As much as he didn't want to, he just had to look.

Goldfarb watched as his client stole some nervous glances at the
photos. He observed the small winces, and the trembling sighs, as
well as the occasional gasps as he drank in each detail of the horror
that he and his companions had viciously pounded into his
brother-in-law.

His sister's husband. Dana.

At the home of his mother. Maggie.

"Ohmigod," he murmured. "What in God's name did I do?" he
gasped. "What in God's name did I do?"


============================================================


Charlie was standing outside the holding cell when Bill got back
from his meeting with his lawyer. Bill barely looked up as he was
escorted into the cell and the handcuffs were removed.

"You'll need to stand out here, this time," the officer told Charlie
and the young man nodded in acceptance.

When the guard had left, Charlie looked his older brother over with
a critical eye. It almost seemed fitting that Bill was looking quite
the worse for wear. His left eye had swelled up during the night,
leaving him with a squint. Dana's no slouch, Charlie thought to
himself. She worked him over good. But that thought didn't really
cheer him as much as he thought it would.

"How did you sleep?" Charlie asked quietly.

"I didn't," Bill replied tiredly. "Oh, and I gotta thank you for
getting me that high priced Havard graduate attorney, Charlie old
buddy. Only the best for old Bill," he sneered.

"I wasn't about to ask Mom to call Mr. Nevins, especially not in
front of Dana. And I figured you'd come to your senses sooner if
you sweated it out a while."

"Since when did you start making all the decisions in the family?"
Bill snarled.

"Since my big brother took leave of his mind and left a maniac in
his place," Charlie returned in kind. "Look, Bill, I didn't come here
to fight--"

"Then why did you come here?" Bill demanded.

Charlie drew in a deep breath. Thoughts had been running amok in
his head for the last 16 hours and he didn't think it would get any
better in the near future. "I had a long talk with Dad last night," he
started.

"Dad?! Wanna tell me how the hell you managed that one, Little
Brother?" Bill sneered angrily.

Charlie glared at Bill. "I drove over to Annapolis, and sat on the
docks, if you must know," he said evenly.

"Better not let Starbuck here you talkin' like that," Bill said with a
smirk.

"Don't call her that," Charlie shot back.

"Call her what? Starbuck? That's her name!" Bill huffed.

"No. Her name is Dana. Starbuck was Dad's name for her, not
yours. You know, sitting there last night, I figured something out.
Oh, I might have been talking to nothing more than the seaspray,
but I came to some real insights. You know what your problem is,
Big Brother?" Charlie asked, but didn't allow the other man time to
answer. "Your problem is that you think you _are_ Dad! You
think just like you used to, when Dad was away on a cruise and he
left you 'in charge'. Well, guess what? We aren't kids anymore,
and Dad isn't just away for six months, and he'd be angrier than
hell at the way you've been acting!"

"Now hold it right there, Charlie," Bill said, rising to his own
defense. "Dad and I talked a lot before he died--"

"You act like he ONLY talked to you, Bill! He talked to me, too!
The Christmas he died, you had to leave early, had a cruise. I
stayed home a few more days and we talked a lot. And he told me
something."

"We were talking about Dana," Charlie said, letting the memories
show in his eyes. "And I asked if she was ever gonna leave the
FBI. You know what he told me, Bill? You wanna know what he
said? He said, 'no, and I don't know if that would be the right
thing for her anyway.' Those are his exact words. He told me that
he figured it was just a passing fancy, but she'd been at it so long,
that he might have been wrong. And he said something else. He
looked me straight in the eye and said 'all I ever wanted for any of
you was that you were happy.' On his grave, that's what he said to
me, Bill. And those were almost our last words together," Charlie
said, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Now, you think back, and you tell me, does Dana look unhappy? I
mean, before you pulled this shit, did she seem unhappy to you?
Did she ever come to you crying that she hated her job, that she
wanted out, that she didn't want to marry Fox Mulder? You have
been so caught up in this crusade of living everyone's life for them,
that you have missed the obvious: She is happy. Very happy. This
is what she wants out of life. And if that upsets you, well you can
just learn to live with it. I'll tell you something, Bill. If you had
pulled this kind of crap when I married Karen--I'd have killed you
on the spot, right then and there," Charlie said, breathless. "Right
then and there."

"Dana told me that I always followed you around like a puppy.
That I never saw what bad things you did. Well, that might have
been true back when we were kids, but it's not true anymore. I'm
gonna give you a little advice, Big Brother, and I hope you take it.
Grow UP. Before it's too late." With those words ringing in the
cell block, Charlie turned and left.

Bill sat on the bare mattress, stunned. "What if it's too late?" he
murmured. "What if it's too late?"

*****

Goldfarb escorted William Scully to the courthouse at noon for the
arraignment on the formal charges. Scully stood by Goldfarb's side,
with hands cuffed in front of him. Bill kept turning around,
searching for a familiar face, but the only familiar faces he saw were
those of Patrick and Dennis.

"Shit," Scully muttered under his breath.

"What's wrong?" asked Goldfarb.

"They're here. The guys that beat Mulder up," Scully said. At that
Goldfarb looked at Bill Scully with an exasperated expression,
because he wondered if his client was ever going to accept
responsibility for his part.

As the Judge called them up, Richard Goldfarb put his game face
on. He now had a job to do and that was to represent his client, no
matter how big of an asshole he was, because the law says even
assholes are entitled to representation in due process.

The judge indicated to the bailiff to call the next case, and Bill
Scully's case number was called out. Client and lawyer stood up
before the Judge and listened to the same charges of aggravated
assault, assault with a deadly weapon, attempted murder and a
count of felonious assault within the parameters of a Bias crime.
These were the same charges Goldfarb had told Scully about
earlier.

"Mr. Scully, it has come to my attention that charges of Murder 1
and Voluntary Manslaughter are pending as the victim's condition is
listed as critical. Do you understand the charges as they have been
presented, Mr. Scully?" the judge inquired.

"No, wait," he gasped, as all Scully heard at that point was Murder
1. He swayed slightly as he asked, "Are you telling me Mulder's
dead?"

"No, Mr. Scully, that is not what I said. I did say his condition is
listed as critical, and the District Attorney would like to waive the
necessity of having another arraignment hearing should the victim
die. They are putting the murder charges on hold for now, just in
case they're needed to save time. Do you understand?"

Scully turned a pasty white. He turned to Goldfarb with a stunned
expression on his face. "He's gonna die?" he asked Goldfarb.

"He may Mr. Scully," Goldfarb responded.

"Mr. Scully," the judge proclaimed, "do you understand the charges
before you?"

Yes," he whispered.

"Your Honor, I'd like to request an immediate bail hearing?" said
Goldfarb.

"Tomorrow, 9:30 a.m. will have to be immediate enough for you.
Thank you, Mr. Goldfarb. Next case, bailiff."

The courtroom guard moved to escort Bill Scully out of the
courtroom and back to the jailhouse holding cell. Goldfarb
informed him that he had some casework to do and he would check
in with him later to go over the proceedings. Scully looked numb,
and didn't even notice the smirks Patrick and Dennis were wearing
as they heard their case numbers called and immediately dropped.
It was good to have family and friends in high places.

Richard left the courtroom and went over to the nearest pay phone
and dialed the calling card number from memory and then entered
the remaining numbers. He listened to the ringing and hoped he
wasn't waking anyone up from much needed naps.

"Hello?"

"Hi Les, it's me."

"Hi you. What's up" she asked.

"Just checking in," he said wearily. "How's Rachael feeling?"

"She's hacking away like crazy, but at least her fever is down. It's
been holding at 101 with the Children's Moltrin. I suspect it'll
probably spike again tonight though. That's her usual pattern."

"Yeah, well, maybe we'll get lucky," Richard offered.

"Dream on Counselor, dream on. Anything interesting today?"
Leslie asked innocently.

"Les," he hesitated before going on. "I got a really shitty one here."

"Oh? What?" she asked curiously.

"Les, sit down. This one's gonna hit home a little." He waited a
moment and then asked, "You sitting?"

"You're serious," she remarked.

"Yes, Leslie, I'm serious," he replied.

"Okay, I'm really sitting. What's the case?" she asked.

"Bias crime. Three assholes against one victim," he explained.

"African American?" Leslie asked.

"No. Jew," he seethed.

"Oh no, Richard," she gasped.

"Leslie, it gets worse. We've met the victim," he continued.

"What?" she asked shocked. "Who?"

"Remember the man we met at Temple and then we met his wife
and baby at Baptism class at St. Mark's?" he asked.

"Of course I do. Dana and Mulder. Ohmigod, Richard. Who?"
she cried out.

"Mulder, Les. Mulder was beaten to a pulp by three totally
drunken asses and, oh Leslie, get ready, 'cause this is rich. You're
not gonna believe this one. One of the assholes is Dana's older
brother. The fucking moron got drunk and nearly beat his own
brother-in-law to death, Leslie." These last words were emitted
through truncated sobs.

"Oh God, Richard. Are you okay? Sweetheart, talk to me, please,"
Leslie pleaded. After a few moments, Leslie could hear Richard
take a couple of cleansing breaths. "Richard? Honey, are you
okay?"

"Yeah," he replied in a slightly breathy voice. "Listen, I'm going to
take a ride over to the hospital. I've gotta see if Dana will talk to
me, and I need to see Mulder. I need to see that he's going to be all
right."

"It's that bad, Richard?" she asked tentatively.

"Yeah. It's that bad."

"Give Dana and Mulder my love and prayers, okay? I can't leave
Rachael now, but as soon as she's feeling better, will you let her
know that I'll be there to see her?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'll tell her, I promise. Les?"

"Yeah, Richard, I love you too," she replied to his unspoken
declaration.

*****

Dana felt the hand she was holding flex into a fist. The groan that
followed brought her instantly awake. According to the clock on
the wall, it was already 7:30. How in the world could she have
slept so long? But her thoughts were turned immediately to her
husband.

" . . . daaaay?" he moaned, but didn't open his eyes. It would have
been fairly impossible, even if he'd been strong enough to
accomplish the feat--both eyes were swollen shut. Dana watched as
he wet his bottom lip, his tongue stopping on the stitches in the
right corner, and then he tried again. "Dane?"

"I'm right here, Fox. Right here. It's all right. You're going to be
all right," she murmured, trying to reassure herself of that fact
almost more than to reassure him.

". . . huuuurt," he slurred and his face tightened into a grimace.

"I know, baby, I know. I'll call the nurse. Now that you're awake,
they can give you something for the pain. Just hold on to me,
OK?"

He clutched her hand, but didn't speak again. Dana called the
nurse, who came in seconds later with a syringe. After she injected
it in the IV, the nurse told Dana that she'd call the doctor and let
him know the patient had come around.

"Dane?" Mulder called out again.

"Give it a minute, Sweetheart," she soothed. "You'll feel it in a
minute." She watched his face intently as it softened, and the lines
and wrinkles of pain slowly faded from view.

". . .love you," he slurred and sighed, before his breathing went
back to the steady rhythm that told her he had fallen back asleep.

"I love you, too, Fox. I love you, too," she murmured over and
over again.

Just a minute later, Maggie came in carrying Adam. "See,
Grandma told you Mommy would be here," Maggie cooed to the
infant. "He just woke up a few minutes ago so I took him down to
change him," she told Dana as she handed him over to his mother.

"His Daddy woke up, too," Dana said with a relieved sigh.

Maggie's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She broke into a
wide grin. "Oh, Dana, Sweetheart, that's wonderful! How is he
feeling?" she asked anxiously.

Dana's eyes darkened. "He's in a lot of pain. Between the
concussion, the broken ribs, and the damage to his kidney, I
expected that. The doctor had left orders for a pain killer to be
given when he came around, so the nurse gave it to him just a
couple of minutes ago. It helped. He fell back to sleep."

"Then he didn't have a chance to tell you what really happened,"
Maggie said sadly.

Dana's eyes flashed and her cheeks burned with anger. "Mom! We
know what 'really happened'. Bill and a couple of his neo-Nazi
friends tried to kill him! And they damned well almost succeeded!
What more do we need to know?"

Before Maggie could say anything more, Adam scrunched up his
little face and let out a loud cry. Dana looked down at the little red
face and softened her expression. "Mom, I don't have time to
discuss this right now, the baby is starving. And I think talking
about this upsets him."

"Dana," Maggie said softly. "He's too young to understand what's
going on. But he does feel that you're upset and he's reacting to
that. Just calm down, and let him nurse. Fox woke up, it's what
we've been praying for all night, we should be happy. Let's just
take this one step at a time."

Dana took a deep breath and nodded. Speaking softly to the baby,
she adjusted his blanket across her lap and over her shoulder, so
that he was hidden underneath it and proceeded to feed him, sitting
next to Mulder's bed. It was pretty obvious that only extensive use
of force or explosives would move her from that spot.

Maggie knew Adam wasn't the only one who was hungry. She was
hungry, too and if Dana didn't eat and get some liquids in her, she
wouldn't have enough milk to satisfy the little boy now suckling
happily on her lap. Glancing at the three of them, Maggie went off
to find Karen and get them all something to eat.


========================================================


Karen was awake and sifting through old magazines in the lounge
area. "How's he doing, this morning?" she asked before Maggie
even had a chance to sit down.

Maggie smiled. Karen was a good girl, a beautiful young woman.
Charlie was lucky to have found her. "Fox woke up a little while
ago. He was in a lot of pain, so they gave him something for it and
now he's sleeping again," she explained.

"That's good news, that he woke up," Karen smiled happily, then
she dropped her eyes and wouldn't look directly at Maggie. "While
you were in there, ah, I hope you don't mind, but I sort of called
Tara," Karen said sheepishly. "I mean, with all the excitement and
all, I just thought--"

"Oh no!" Maggie exclaimed. "I forgot all about Tara! Oh, she
must hate me--I should have called her last night!"

"Mom, mom, please. Relax. I explained everything. She was
starting to get worried because she didn't hear from Bill. He called
her when he got in yesterday, but he usually calls to say goodnight.
Funny thing is, she thought that maybe the baby might have gotten
sick. She didn't know how to get hold of anybody, since there was
no answer at your house, nor at Dana's and Fox, or even at the
motel where we're staying. I woke her up, but I don't think she
was sleeping very well. She told me she had horrible nightmares
last night."

Tears were welling up in Maggie's eyes. "I'm living one, right
now," she admitted. "What did you tell her?"

"The truth, or as much of it as I know. That there was a fight, that
Bill and his friends, Dennis and Patrick were involved. Did you
know that she purposefully excluded them from their wedding
because she always thought they were trouble?" Karen asked.
"Anyway, I told her that Bill wasn't talking to anyone, but that
Charlie was working on him. And at the time, I didn't know that
Fox was awake. She was in tears, Mom. You might want to call
her in a little while."

"What can I say to her?" Maggie sobbed. "What can I possibly tell
her?"

Karen got up from her seat and went over to hug the older woman
tightly. "Mom, it's going to be all right. I know it doesn't look like
it right now, but it will be."

"I don't see how," Maggie sobbed into Karen's shoulder. "Dana
hates her brother now. And if what Mrs. Lavin says is true--my
God, Karen, how could he do such a thing?! That's not how I
raised him! I can't believe he would do such a thing!"

"Mom! Don't you dare blame yourself! Bill is a grown man. He's
been in the Navy almost 20 years now--he's old enough to know
right from wrong. You raised good children, Maggie Scully. I
know, I fell in love and married one," Karen proclaimed with a
warm smile. "And you are a very loving woman. If Bill did this,
it's not due to a defect on your part. It's because something is
going on inside him. I want you to realize that."

Maggie looked like she was going to argue that point when she
realized they were alone. "Where's Charlie? I thought he'd be here
with you."

Karen shrugged. "He came back about three, curled up on that
chair and slept till about 6:30. Then he said if he didn't take a
shower and shave, he'd be a bear all day, so he went back to the
motel. I think he was going over to talk to Bill again this morning."

"Charlie's taking this awfully hard," Maggie sighed. "I shouldn't
have put such a burden on him. It was too much for him."

"Nonsense," Karen huffed. "Mom, Charles Scully is a grown man.
He's the Chief Petty Officer on a battle cruiser. He's used to
responsiblity! The problem, and it's not just his, but this whole
family's, is that he's still treated like the baby. He's not. And as
for taking this so hard, he's looked up to Bill all his life. Now, he's
seeing that Bill is just a man, he can make mistakes and sometimes
they're big ones. Charlie and I had a long talk after Fox and Dana's
wedding. Charlie couldn't understand why Bill took such a strong
dislike to Fox. It didn't seem like Bill at all. Charlie thinks the
world of Dana, and as long as Fox makes her happy, that's all
Charlie could ask for. So, you see, there's a lot going on for
Charlie, but believe me, he's made of sterner stuff. He's up to this
challenge. I know him, I love him, and I believe in him," she said
firmly.

Maggie smiled at her daughter-in-law fondly. "I noticed that you
didn't run after him last night."

Karen blushed, a little embarressed. "He needed that time to
himself. If he had needed me, he would have come to me," she said
shyly.

"His father was like that, you know. It hurt, the first time or two.
But after a while, I got to where I could sense when he needed the
time alone. And I realized that those times were a lot fewer than
the times he came to me," Maggie said, her eyes at some far off
point.

"I figured that out before we were even married," Karen said softly.
Then, realizing what she'd just said, she quickly corrected herself.
"I mean, times are different now--I don't mean that I figured it out
faster than you--"

Maggie laughed. "Sweetheart, never apologize for understanding a
man--especially not to another woman. It's a trait to be cherished,
not embarrassed by." Maggie took the younger woman into a
gentle hug. "Come on. I want to call Tara. She must be at wits
end. But first, could you run down to the cafeteria and get
something--some bagels or English muffins and some juice. If we
don't get some food into Dana one of us is going to have to take up
the slack when Adam gets hungry, and neither of us are up to that,"
she grinned, then gave Karen a look when the other woman simply
graced her with a cryptic smile.

"Maybe not today, but in a few more months, Grandma," Karen
said tenderly.

Tears were welling in Maggie's eyes, but these were tears of joy.
"I feel like I'm on a roller coaster," she said, and gave her
daughter-in-law another hug before going off to find a pay phone.

*****

Walter Skinner was not a happy man. He wasn't even a mildly
annoyed man. He was, at that point, a royally pissed off man.

He'd been notified of the attack on Agent Mulder only hours after
the occurance. But, instead of being able to drive the short distance
to Baltimore to check out the details of the incident himself, he was
stranded in Houston, Texas, socked in an airport with record thick
fog. Nothing was moving, whether you were the Assistant Director
of the FBI or not. At one point, he tried to hire a car to drive to
Dallas or some other airport, but that turned out to be a popular
idea as well. He decided about midnight that he might as well get
used to the idea of waiting until morning.

The fog lifted about dawn and he bumped several passengers to get
on the quickest flight out. As a stroke of luck, it was arriving at
Baltimore-Washington International Airport, instead of either
Dulles or National. From there, he made his way immediately over
to St. Anthony's Hospital.

Skinner hadn't spent the night in idle sleep. He'd talked to the
arresting officer, spent no less than 45 minutes with the District
Attorney and the US Attorney for the Baltimore district, and half an
hour with the Director of the FBI. No one was comfortable with
the situation, but no one wanted to let it go with a slap on the wrist,
either. The minute Mrs. Lavin had told Officer Nelson that one of
the assailants had called Agent Mulder 'Jew boy', the attack was
elevated to the level of a hate crime. Images of 3 dead FBI agents
in southern states during the early days of the civil rights movement
led the Director to call for the fullest extent of prosecution.

Walter couldn't help thinking of William Scully. He'd done some
checking on his own and had been updated on the service record of
one William Scully, Jr., Lt. Commander USN. Unlike the two
other assailants, a garage mechanic and an unemployed used car
salesman, Cmdr. Scully had an exemplary record. He was headed
for Captaincy--if he kept his nose clean. After the beating he'd
given his brother-in-law, his nose was decidedly dirty.

But Skinner remembered Bill Scully from the rehersal dinner before
the Mulders wedding. He had been a complete and total ass. And
even after the dressing down he'd received at the hands of his
mother. Skinner sensed at the time that someday, something would
happen, but fortunately, Bill Scully and Fox Mulder lived on
opposite ends of the country and usually didn't have much one on
one contact. Why Bill Scully had decided to take the occasion of
his nephew's baptism to settle his score with Mulder, Skinner
would never know.

The Assistant Director hadn't had a chance to talk to Dana and that
bothered him. Every time he'd called the hospital, she had been
with Mulder or feeding the baby and couldn't be disturbed. He
could imagine how torn she must be, but he had no doubt where
her loyalties lie. Scully had always been Fox Mulder's number one
supporter, Skinner didn't think anything could ever change that.

It was almost 9:30 when Skinner arrived at the hosptial. He made
his way up to the ICU, where he ran into Maggie Scully.

"Maggie, I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner," he apologized
before he even bothered to say hello.

"Walter, I'm glad you finally made it out of Texas. I spoke with
your assistant last night and she told me you were stranded,"
Maggie said, giving him a light kiss on the cheek.

"Yes, well there are some things that even an Assistant Director
can't fix," he said with a hint of twinkle in his eye. "How is
Mulder? Has he come around yet?"

"He's been in and out for the last couple of hours. He's on some
heavy pain killers and he's really too groggy to say much of
anything except ask for Dana or the baby," Maggie said, walking
Skinner down the hall. "But you can see him for yourself." She
opened the double glass doors leading onto the ICU and pointed
toward Mulder's cubicle. "Dana's in there with him. They're being
really good about letting us come and go and letting the baby stay.
But we're trying not to wear out our welcome," Maggie said.

"I understand. I won't stay long. I really need to speak with
Scully, ah, I mean, Dana," he stammered.

"Well, if you can get her to go into the lounge, maybe she'll talk
with you there. She's refusing to talk to me about it. When she
gets upset, the baby picks up on it and he gets upset, too. So far
this morning, she hasn't let us say a word about it."

"I think I understand that, too, Maggie," Skinner said, his eyes
darkening. "It must be a nightmare. For all of you."

Maggie nodded, not trusting her voice to speak.

Skinner stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the scene.
Scully was leaning back in a highbacked chair, the baby sleeping on
her chest. Mulder was bandaged, tubed and wired, machines
surrounding him. From the looks of it, a couple of the machines
were no longer in use. Skinner took that as a favorable sign.

"Uh, Dana?" he called out softly. She opened her eyes and looked
toward the door.

"Sir!" she said just a little louder than a whisper. "You made it out
of Texas," she smiled.

He let a small smile tug at his mouth. "Finally. I was beginning to
know how Davy Crockett felt," he said with a shrug. "How's he
doing?" he asked, nodding toward Mulder.

"Better, actually. The bleeding stopped last night, but we were
worried about possible kidney failure. He was on dialysis for the
night, and the doctor just took him off that. Thank heavens we
didn't have to worry about pneumothorax with the broken ribs, and
the concussion didn't stem from a skull fracture. It was bad, but it
could have been worse."

"Three men did this without the use of weapons?" Skinner asked,
not bothering to hide his amazement.

"Bill has military training, sir, and I believe both of the other two
are active in paramilitary groups. You can learn a lot on the street.
It doesn't hurt when your prey has made it clear that he isn't going
to fight back," Scully spat out.

"You know that for a fact, Agent Scully?" Skinner asked, eyes
narrowed.

"I know Mulder, sir," she said, and just by the use of the old
familiar name, he knew she was refering to the man who was her
partner and not her husband. "He would attempt to walk away.
I've seen him do it before. It takes more than a couple of drunks
calling him names to make him enter into a fight where he's
outnumbered 3 to 1," she stated firmly.

"Yeah, it took drugs in his water to make him take a swing at me,
and I know it's something he'd been dreaming of for years,"
Skinner muttered under his breath. "OK, Scully, I'll take your
word for it. But I'm still concerned. You are certain he would
want to press charges? I know Mulder pretty well and I can't
see--"

"He will, when I get through . . . convincing him, sir," she said,
taking a moment to come up with the appropriate word. "This can
not be allowed to go unpunished."

"I know Mulder has a few people on his 'shit list' but I've never
known him to be vindictive," Skinner said, squaring his shoulders.

Scully narrowed her eyes. "It's not vindictive, sir. It's just
punishment."

"You realize what you're talking about, Scully. You're brother
would lose everything. Before the trial, in all likelihood, he'd be
dismissed from his post, given a dishonorable discharge. A lack of
confidence would bounce him out so fast, your head will spin. And
you aren't just punishing him. Your sister-in-law and your neice
and nephew would lose all benefits. Not to mention, your brother
would serve time--"

"If they hit him with the assault on a Federal Officer and the hate
crimes, he'll likely serve it in a Federal Prison, sir," Dana said
tiredly, rubbing her forehead. "I know all this. And I don't care.
Mulder could have been killed. If the kidney had ruptured, no
ambulance in the world could have gotten there fast enough and
there would have been nothing for me to do but hold him as he died
in my arms. I have a child to think about, too, sir. And I don't
want animals like that roaming the streets. It's why I went into law
enforcement to begin with," she said, staring straight into her
superior's eyes.

Skinner knew by looking at her that there would be not changing
her mind. He nodded slowly. "They still need Mulder's
statement," he pointed out.

"He's being weaned off the heavy pain killers. The doctor wanted
him sedated while we were waiting to see how the kidney and his
blood pressure reacted. He's doing better, so they'll have him on
codiene this afternoon, and he'll be moved to his own room. I
expect that by tonight, the DA can speak with him--but for no more
than five minutes. I will not have him worn out over this. He's
suffered enough."

Skinner sighed and nodded. "Scully, if there's anything I can do--"

She smiled at him, for the first time since they'd started talking
about the case. "You already done enough, sir. Thank you." She
spun on her heel and marched back to Mulder's room.

*****

Richard Goldfarb didn't have to look hard for Fox Mulder. He was
becoming quite the celebrity on the Intensive Care Unit. The nurse
glared at him, but he explained he was looking more for Mrs.
Mulder than Mr. Mulder, and they finally let him in.

The room was empty of visitors, but the nurse escorting him told
Richard that Mrs. Mulder left often to change the baby. Richard
saw the infant seat, resting next to the hospital bed. Receiving
blankets and various baby equipment were sitting side by side with
the standard hosptial trappings found in critical care units.

It took him a moment to get the courage to look at Fox Mulder
himself. Black, blue and red, those were the predominant colors.
Eyes swollen shut, breathing oxygen through a tube resting at his
nose. Suddenly Richard could all too easily see himself in that bed,
see himself in that condition. His stomach lurched at the thought.

A hand touched his shoulder and he spun around, startled.

"Ah, it's Richard, isn't it?" Dana asked, shifting little Adam so she
could shake his hand. "It's so nice of you to come. How in the
world did you hear?" she asked. "Oh, no, don't tell me the papers
listed the names--"

"No, it's not that at all," Richard stammered. "I'm, ah, I work for
the courts up here. I'm a part-time Public Defender. I picked it up
because it was decent pay and we were low on clients, and well, I
haven't been able to leave it yet," he explained hastily.

"Oh, so you're--" Suddenly, the light came to Dana's eyes, and just
as quickly went out. "You're defending one of them," she said in a
low voice.

"Umm, yes, I am," Richard admitted shyly. "I'm defending your
brother, William Scully."

Dana bristled. "If he sent you here to beg us to drop the charges,"
she stormed, "tell him to find another patsy!"

"Dana, it's not like that at all, believe me. He doesn't even know
I'm here. I didn't tell him I was coming. Please, is there
somewhere we can sit and talk about this?"

"Fox has been waking up every now and then, I want to stay
close," she said firmly.

"I can understand that. But I do need to talk to you," Richard
pressed.

Dana nodded to another chair in the corner of the cubicle. "Have a
seat. We can do it here," she said calmly.

"First, please believe me when I tell you that I tried to get out of
this. I told my supervisor that I knew the victim, but when I
explained that we'd only met twice, he didn't think it was enough
to constitute a relationship in the eyes of the court."

"I can see that," Dana admitted.

"And then, when I pointed out the nature of the charges, that there
were Bias Crime charges pending and that the racial bias was
toward Jews--"

Dana almost giggled for the first time. "Oh, Richard. I don't know
who to feel more sorry for," she said. "You poor thing, having to
walk into the same room with that asshole brother of mine! But I
can assure you, when we were kids, Bill wasn't like this. He friends
were always wild, but Dad never tolerated that kind of behavior and
neither did Mom. He probably thought he'd struck gold--half the
OJ defense team were Jewish lawyers," she added with a wry grin.

Richard blushed and grinned back. "Well, I'm afraid I might have
left him wondering if I didn't work for the Prosecution," he
admitted. "I made him look at the evidence photos," he explained.

Dana's face went expressionless. "How did he react?" she asked.

"After he threw up for five minutes?" Richard asked. "He reacted
as any human being. He was horrified. I don't think he had any
idea. You should know that during the arraignment, when the
judge explained that there was a murder charge pending, and that
was because the victim had been left in critical condition, he
immediately asked if Mulder--"

"He thought he'd died," Dana finished the sentence for Richard.
"How did he react when he heard he was still very much alive?"

"Relieved. I think he felt a great deal of relief," Richard informed
her.

"I'm sure he did. That way he's not facing murder charges," Dana
said flatly. "Probably thinks he'll get off with a slap on the wrist."

"Well, I'm sure his cohorts are thinking that. Or they were, until
the US Attorney's office called the Grand Jury. They are facing
violation of civil rights charges, assaulting a federal officer, more
bias crimes--they thought they got off scott free, but they're lucky if
they don't end up sharing a cell with a mobster."

"They deserve far worse," Dana said through gritted teeth. "So
why did you come here, Richard? Besides to tell me the good news
that my brother has been arraigned."

"I wanted to hear the story from you. You should know, Dana,
that I talked to Mrs. Lavin. She told me how you tackled two of
the assailants. She said your brother was standing off at that point,
like he couldn't believe what was happening. And then, I guess
you, ah--"

"I am a trained agent, Richard. I didn't think the threat was
eliminated," Dana said firmly.

"You had to be pulled off him by your mother, Dana. I don't think
that was just 'neutralizing the threat'. I think you wanted to give
him back what he'd just given Mulder," Richard said softly.

Dana glared at him. "And if I did? Is Bill going to press charges
against _me_?"

"No, of course not. I'm just asking because it's relevant. How
much of this is hate crime against all Jews, and how much of it is a
big brother who thinks he knows what's best for his little sister?"
Richard asked, looking her directly in the eye. "Now, I know about
the other two, and believe me, I don't think they'll get off with a
slapped wrist. But I want to know if you are up to doing this. Up
to tearing your family apart. You don't have to answer me. In
fact, I really would rather you didn't. But I want you to think
about it."

"I've thought of nothing else," she said evenly.

Richard nodded and got up. "I really would like to talk to him. Do
you think he might be up to it later?"

"I hope so," Dana said, standing. She held out her hand to Richard.
"No hard feelings. At least I know the Defense Attorney has a
conscience," she said with a smile.

"Thanks, Dana. Oh, and Leslie said to tell you that you're all in her
prayers. And mine, too."

"Thank you, both of you," Dana said and Richard left the room.


=========================================================


If he tried really hard, Mulder could open his eyes to just slits. And
in that narrow field of vision, he could just make out the fire of her
hair, dulled only slightly by the diffused lighting in the room. But
even if he couldn't see her clearly, he _felt_ her clearly. She'd been
there all along, he knew that to the depths of his soul.

"Heey," he croaked, and swallowed, hoping to find a little moisture
somewhere in his mouth. If there was any, it was hiding.

"Hey there, yourself," came the quick reply. He could hear her
smile, even if he couldn't really see it.

"Adam here?" he asked, shutting one eye and leaving only the one
open. He could almost make out the little bundle of blankets in her
arms.

"Right here. We just finished lunch," Dana informed him.

"Can I hold him?" Mulder asked, moving his arms to reach for the
baby. "Owww!" he said, gritting his teeth.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Dana reasoned sadly.
Then, an idea came to her and she brightened considerably. "Wait a
sec. I think I can figure this out." She pulled up the bed rail that
had been down to allow her to hold her husband's hand. Next, she
took his right arm, which was in pretty good shape, all things
considered, and moved it to form a V with his body. Then she
padded the side of the bed rail with a couple of receiving blankets
and placed the yawning baby in his arm.

"How's that, Dad?" she asked, beaming with pride.

"Wonderful," he sighed. He took a deep breath, wincing a little as
it pulled his ribs. "He smells great," he said happily. "How's my
beautiful boy?" he cooed at the infant. "What say you and Dad just
lay here a while and give old Mom a break, huh? Shall we?"
Reaching over, Mulder picked up the tiny fist the baby was waving
and the little fingers immediately tightened around his index finger.
"That's my guy," he crooned again.

"Still in pain?" Dana asked, trying to wipe the tears from her eyes
before he noticed. She didn't have to bother, he was too wrapped
up in his son.

"Nah." When she shot him her Dana Scully, MD look, he
acquiesced and confessed, "Maybe just a little, but not too bad, not
like earlier," he assured her. "I'm thirsty as all get out, though," he
told her.

She smiled and brought a glass with a straw to his lips, letting him
take all he wanted. "What, no ice chips?" he teased.

"Why, do you prefer ice chips?" she shot back, knowing full well
that he hated them with a passion.

"No, Dane, it just means I must have escaped major incisions and
surgical soft diets this time," he noted. "I'm catching on to all this
medical stuff. Must have been hanging around with you too long,"
he grinned, even more lopsided that usual because of the stitches
near his lip.

"Well then, _Doc_ Mulder, can you use your medical expertise to
explain why they're booting you down to a normal room in a little
while," she told him happily. "Somewhere a little more spacious,"
she announced waving her hands around for emphasis. "They seem
to think we carry too much junk around with us," she joked.

"Do we? Haven't been awake long enough to notice, I guess," he
replied a little more sleepily. All this jocularity was taking a lot of
energy.

"You were out of it most of the time you were here," she
commented, noticing how heavy lidded his eyes had become again.

"What?" he responded.

"Nothing, Mulder. You just haven't exactly been the life of the
party the last couple of days. You've been kind of out of it, ya
know?" Dana smiled as she noted the baby had fallen asleep in the
little nest in Mulder's bed. "Like father, like son," she said with a
warm smile.

Mulder returned her smile momentarily, until an involuntary
grimace took over. "Muscle cramp," he gasped. "Leg."

Dana worked on massaging the leg deftly to ease her husband's
discomfort.

"Better?" she asked.

"Yeah. Thanks." Mulder laid quietly for a few minutes, enjoying
the rhythmic breathing of his son. Then, a peculiar blend of
anxiety and curiosity caused Mulder to ask the question that had
been gnawing on his mind since he'd regained consciousness earlier.

"Scully? Are you going to tell me what the hell happened?" he
asked, making a bit more of a show than necessary of trying to get
comfortable around the sleeping baby laying on his arm.

Dana pursed her mouth and shrugged noncommittally. "What do
you want to know?" she asked.

"How did I get here, for one? Did you get the number of the truck
that ran over me, for another?" he asked more seriously than one
might have expected.

Scully bit her lip. "What do you remember?" she asked. She knew
she should wait for either the DA or Skinner before asking this
question, but she wanted to know and she didn't want to wait.

"Oh, I don't know, let's see. You woke me up from my nap__, Hey
Scully, you notice a pattern here? You're always waking me up."
It didn't escape Dana that Mulder had reverted to calling her Scully
for the last few minutes. Whenever he felt threatened or anxious,
Mulder tended to revert back to the comfortable habit of calling his
wife by her last name. It was always his way of keeping his
distance, of keeping his emotions in check.

Scully knew this was not going to be easy for Mulder. He'd just let
her know that in his own, Mulder, way.

"Anyway, I think you asked me to get the diapers which were still
in the car, so I went to get the diapers out of the trunk. I went out
on the porch." Mulder paused here to first catch his breath and
then to ask for another sip of water. He had an uneasy feeling, but
he honestly wasn't sure why.

"Do you remember what happened next, Mulder?" Dana asked
warily.

"I saw Bill and a couple of his buddies on the porch. They were
drinking. They were drunk, I think, Scully." Mulder paused a
moment and took a look at his sleeping son, and then he continued,
"One of them tried to be funny ,and I got mad and took a swing--"

"You what? You threw the first punch?" Dana demanded.

"Only after they pushed me, Scully," he replied contritely. "Yeah, I
guess I did. I'm really sorry. I guess they were drunk and I
shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry, Scully."

"Mulder, tell me what else happened. Why did they push you?
she asked.

Now Mulder wasn't sure if he wanted to continue this discussion.
This was his wife's brother, for crying out loud. The brother that
was never too crazy about him in the first place. He heard his wife
repeat her question with bulldog determination, "Mulder, why did
they push you?"

"I don't know. They were drunk, Scully," he replied not revealing
much in the way of motive.

"Mulder, what did they say to you?" she asked. Mulder looked
away from her at this moment, so Dana repeated the question with
perhaps a little more force than she intended, "Mulder, what did
they say to you?"

Finally, the dam broke. "Damn it all, Scully, I just didn't want to
deal with that kind of crap anymore, you know."

"No, Mulder, I don't know," her voice now gentle. "Tell me. Tell
me what they said."

"They, they called me every derogatory name for a Jew they could
think of, and then__," Mulder stopped in an attempt to reach for his
water, so Scully helped him stall again by holding it for him.

When he finished he continued, "Your brother's two friends
grabbed my arms, and Bill took a few swings at me. "Next thing I
knew my head connected with something hard—Which is weird,
since I don't remember anything after that."

Dana was silent for a long time. She helped Mulder take another
drink of the water. "Dane, I'm sorry. I should have just gotten the
diapers--"

"What did they say?" she broke in, trying to keep her voice even.

"Who?" he asked in reply, a little confused.

"Bill and his buddies, what did they say that made you mad?"

At first Mulder looked at his wife's beautiful face and couldn't
fathom what she was getting at. What was the point of dragging
this out? It's Scully's brother for crying out loud, so he continued
and tried, in typical Mulder fashion, to keep it light.

"It was stupid. School ground stuff. One of them called me
something like 'Jew Boy' and another of them said something about
checking my head for horns. It was sixth grade level at best. If I
hadn't been so tired, I would have shoved past them and ignored it.
It was stupid. I was stupid. I'm sorry."

"Mulder, they beat you up. Why are _you_ sorry?"

"Hey," he said with a hint of a smile, "would you believe it's Jewish
guilt?"

"So it had been Non-believer's guilt all of these past years__?" she
retorted.

"__God, how's Mom taking all this?" Mulder asked suddenly.
"I bet she's beside herself with me in the hospital again. Oh, you
didn't call my __," he started to ask.

"Mulder, I did place the call, and your mother told me to tell you to
rest and to take care of yourself." At the last moment she tacked
on, "She also said she loved you."

"Liar, liar,\\ Pants on fire,\\ Scully," he chanted softly, knowing with
a bit of sadness that she was just trying to make him feel better
because his mother chose not to come to the hospital, again.

"What about Bill? Don't I deserve the honor of being visited upon
by 'William the Great'?"

"Bill's in jail," Dana said firmly.

"What!? Why?" Mulder asked in shock..

"Just a few little reasons regarding the Federal Bias crimes, assault
on a federal officer, they did have him on murder one, but that one's
moot now__,"

"_Murder one_?" he howled, not only from learning that charges
were brought against his brother-in-law but also from dealing with
the physical pain in trying to shift position without waking up the
sleeping Adam.

"Scully, we can't have that happen! We just can't! Who made the
charges?"

"I did," Dana said quietly. "After I stopped them from killing you,"
she added, clearing her throat and standing up.

Suddenly Mulder's throat was extremely dry, and he was desperate
to find someone they could trust. "Scully, we can't do this. Please,
call the DA. I want to make a statement," he said exerting every
effort to keep his voice even.

"Not until I know what you're going to say," she replied
stubbornly.

"I'm going to say that this was a mistake. I'll agree to assault and
battery, but somebody needs to know that I threw a punch here,
too. Sure they should have stopped before it got this far, but
Scully, they were drunk and didn't know what they were doing.
_ I_ was the dumb shit that let it get that far," he said in
exasperation.

"What are you talking about?" she demanded. "You were being
attacked!"

"If I was in so much danger, Scully, why didn't I pull my gun?" he
demanded right back at her.

"You didn't have your gun, Mulder. You were taking a nap on the
couch and you had taken your gun off when you walked into the
house. You _always_ take your gun off when you walk into the
house, especially since we had Adam. You've made a point of
making it a routine, a habit. You were unarmed," she seethed
at the notion that he was going to try to take the blame for her
brother's crime.

"Oh. Well, be that as it may, it was a stupid fist fight, and I was
outnumbered. It's out of everyone's system now. C'mon, you
know this has been brewing for a year, ever since the first time Bill
and I met," he began.

"It doesn't excuse the fact that he and his imbecile friends almost
beat you to death," she retorted.

"No. And maybe Bill and I should have taken this behind the
woodshed a long time ago, but I thought we were above that.
Obviously not. Next time, I'll make sure Bill is alone and sober. I
might stand a better chance," Mulder said as he forced a grin on his
face.

"You think this is funny?" she growled, low and venomous.

"No, I don't think _this_ is funny," he stated, holding out his left
arm which was sporting a nice display of tape and tubes. "But
generally speaking, it was a school ground fight that got out of
hand," he said, trying to sound logical and reasonable. He realized
the irony, even if Scully did not. He was trying to think like her.

"Your kidney almost ruptured. You almost died," she seethed.

"Like I said, it got out of hand. And I was tired. I would have
gotten in some better swings if the numbers had been even," he
noted in his newly found logical, calm voice.

"I can't believe you," she growled. "You almost left me, you
almost left Adam--you almost--" she sputtered.

"Scully," he said evenly. "That didn't happen. I'm sorry that I
scared you. I'm sorry that I let it get that far. But what can I say,
it happened. Let's get on with our lives."

"You don't want to press charges?" she asked.

"Unless it's now a crime to be terminally stupid, no I don't," he
replied.

"You think they were just being 'stupid'?" she retorted.

"Yeah, basically," he admitted. "There was probably enough
stupidity to go around."

"What if it was Adam?" she demanded.

"What? What are you talking about, nobody would hurt a bab--"

"What if it was Adam in high school or Adam at college? What if
someone we have never met walked up to Adam on the street and
did this to him? What would you do then?" she roared.

"Don't do that, Scully. Don't use Adam like that against me__?"
Mulder answered with ire in his deceptively soft voice.

Scully shot him a glance, but before she could answer him,
Adam came to full wakefulness and decided he'd had just about
enough. He let out a howl and wouldn't stop.

"See what you've done?" Scully accused, picking the baby up and
cradling him near her.

"Me!? You were the one screaming," Mulder pointed out,
wounded by her words.

"I'm going to change him and see if I can calm him down. I'll send
Mom in so you won't be alone. I don't think I should leave you
alone ever again," she stormed and left the room.


============================================================


Charlie arrived at the hospital and went directly up to the ICU.
Karen was sitting there, going through a magazine she'd obviously
bought from the gift shop, since it was current and contained all the
pages. He smiled at her and gave her a kiss.

"How's he doing?" Karen asked, returning the kiss and giving him a
hug.

"He's bull headed as ever, arrogant, self-centered--

Karen silenced him with a finger to his lips. "I know. He's the
same old Bill. But how was he _really_?" she asked tenderly.

"Scared shitless. Embarrassed. Afraid of what he's done, that he
can never make it right. All of the above. I don't know, I was mad
as hell at him when I left, and now, it just makes my chest hurt, you
know," he said, his voice breaking and his eyes welling up. He
turned his head away and swallowed hard. After a minute, he could
look at her again. "Has Dana been in with Mulder all this time?"

"Yeah. He's been awake a couple of times. They're going to move
him down to a regular room before long. The danger of the kidney
bleeding again is pretty much past now, he's out of the woods."

Charlie sighed in relief. "That's good to hear. I don't want to even
think--"

"Don't buy trouble, Charles Scully," Karen chided and kissed him
again. "If you want, I think you might be able to sneak in there, see
him for yourself."

"I think I just might," Charlie said, nodding.

*****

As Mulder watched Dana leave the room, tears fell down his face.
He didn't know whether the tears were more from the pain of
knowing how angry she was with him right now or the pain of what
all of this was doing to his family. Of course there was the
possiblity that it was the pain of his own personal demons coming
back to haunt him, or the physical pain that now wracked his body
again. *More than likely,* Mulder realized, *the answer is 'E', all
of the above.*

He laid in bed thinking about what had just happened. The
argument. Why was she angry with him? He just wanted to put
this behind him. This was his family, for God's sake, and he just
wanted to forget this ever happened and go on with his life. It
wasn't the end of the world. It happened all the time to other
people.

"But it's not sixth grade school yard shit if it's happening to you,"
he said out loud, but thought no one was around to hear him. "It's
not. Oh God, it hurts like hell."

Charlie stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway. He had seen
Dana march off toward the restroom with Adam wailing in her
arms. He knew better than to deter a mother intent on feeding her
child, so he'd decided to keep Mulder company while she was
gone.

"But Dane," he heard Mulder continue, pleading with his now
absent wife, "I can't press charges against Bill. It's not because I
don't think being called a Jew Bastard is wrong. I do. I think it's
sick, and vindictive, and evil__,"

The one sided conversation stopped and Charlie was frozen in his
spot as Mulder turned his head and caught sight of him in the
doorway. Both men stared at each other like stone statues until
Mulder focused on the face. "Who's there?" he asked.

Charlie's feet found movement again and he proceeded into the
cubicle. "It's me, Mulder. Charlie. Sorry if I'm disturbing you--"

"No," Mulder said hastily, swiping at his face with his good hand.
"Come on in. Dane just left to feed Adam."

"Yeah, I saw her leave. Umm, Mulder, I wanted to tell you--I just
wanted to say how sorry I am--"

Mulder held up his hand and shook his head. "You didn't do
anything, Charlie. None of this is your fault. Believe me, I'm an
expert in that department," Mulder added with a sigh. "I seem to
be an expert at tearing families apart, too." Suddenly he heard the
beeping on the monitor increase in its frequency. *Calm down,
Mulder, or they'll shoot you up with drugs and then you'll never be
able to stop this lunacy. Again. It'll be your fault, again,* he
lamented to himself.

Charlie chewed his lip a bit, waiting for the monitors to slow down.
"Bill's at fault here, Mulder. Not you. If anyone is tearing this
family apart, it's Bill." Charlie now swiped angrily at his own nose.
"The blame rests firmly on his shoulders."

"Charlie," Mulder said with a tired breath. "Don't misunderstand.
Dammit, it's NOT because I don't think the Bias Crimes charges
aren't a big deal. They are, and those idiot friends of your brother's
probably deserve to be thrown in jail because of it." Mulder's chin
trembled with the effort to keep a tight reign on his emotions.
"There's a lot going on here and you don't know half of it." A
sudden flash of rage came to his face and he slammed his hand
down hard on the mattress of the bed.

"God damn Bill Scully! God damn you because you didn't play
fair!" he railed to the four walls and the young man beside him.
"See, Charlie, I'm just starting to discover an important part of me
again, and your brother and his numskull 'friends' threw racial slurs
at me like they were doing the world some kind of favor. Your
brother was a real shit for doing that to me, Charlie! A real shit for
letting those animals do that to me. I wouldn't have let anyone do
that to him. I wouldn't."

The beeps were getting louder and faster and Mulder fought to
slow his breathing, but continued talking, continued to cleanse his
soul.

"I mean, if they had called me 'Spooky' well, that would have been
okay, ...'cause being Spooky is a part of the persona I kind of
invented for myself.... but being called religious slurs-- that digs
into my soul just too damned deep. I mean this is something about
me that I've been having so many doubts about and......well, it's
what I am, you see, it's not something I had a choice in creating...
... I don't know if I'm making sense here...... Shit, what difference
does it make. Nobody will hear me," he ended in a half sob.

"I hear you, Mulder," Charlie said in a cracked voice. "I hear you."

Mulder snorted. "I wish your sister could. If she could ever read
my mind, now's the time, ya know? Somehow I have to get
through to her. I can't press charges, never in a million years, but
it's not for the reason she thinks. I have to make her see that I can't
take the chance of tearing this family apart. You sister knows how
I feel about your family, Charlie. See, I've already been responsible
for one family coming apart at the seams, I can't be responsible for
the Scully family, _my_ family, being decimated. You're all too
precious for me to watch you lose each other just because I got
beat up a little."

Charlie couldn't see for the tears welling in his eyes, but he reached
for Mulder's arm and squeezed it. Mulder just kept on talking.

"Hell, it hurts. I mean, I don't see myself forgiving Bill all too soon
for his role in this, and well, physically it'll be a couple of weeks
before I'll feel like jogging again, but, I'll get over it. I always
manage to get over it. Somehow. Maybe not fully intact, but
enough of the pieces are left that I manage to survive. But I need
your sister with me on this. See, I have to have Dane help me.
She's always helped me survive. We have to work together and
stop this before we destroy everything and everyone I love. I have
to convince her, Charlie. I have to convince her. Someone has to
make her understand."

"I'll try, Mulder. I promise I'll try," Charlie pledged.

There was a strange yet comforting silence in the room when
Maggie arrived a moment later to take up her watch. She started to
ask the two men what was going on, but by the look of
determination on her youngest son's face, and the look of
exhaustion coupled with relief on her son-in-law, she decided to
leave them to their own devices.

*****

Richard peeked into the ICU room. He figured Mulder must have
been doing better, since he wasn't tackled by any of the nurses when
he walked near his room. He didn't see anyone visiting, so he
walked in himself. As Mulder was facing away from the door,
Richard audibly cleared his throat, so Mulder would know someone
was in the room with him.

Mulder turned toward the sound and saw it was Richard Goldfarb.
He was surprised to see him, but also quite pleased too. He liked
the Goldfarbs and had hoped the two families could strike up a
friendship. He didn't have many friends, and of course, when he
thought about it, he realized none of them were Jewish.

Unless he counted AD Skinner, but Walter Skinner was still his
boss, and as much as he respected him and was proud to be in his
company, they were never going to be on a level playing field as
long as Skinner was an AD and he was a Field Agent. The fact that
Skinner had also started casually dating his mother-in-law didn't
exactly make Mulder a hundred percent comfortable around his
boss either.

"Hey. This is a nice surprise," Mulder said.

"Yeah?" Richard said, not knowing for sure if Mulder was told
about his Public Defender status.

"Yeah. To what do I owe this honor?" Mulder said with a smile,
though the stitches tended to make it look more like a grimace.

Richard realized Mulder was in the dark about his role as Bill
Scully's lawyer. He didn't know if he should mention it to him now
or later on. Richard, himself, was upset by the incident, and had
called Rabbi Gerry to avail himself of some counseling. When
Gerry suggested they drive over to the hospital together, just to
check up on Mulder, Richard jumped at the chance.

*Later,* he thought to himself. *I'll tell him later.* He said aloud,
"I'm here to find out how the hell you're doing. So, how the hell
are you?"

"I've been better, but believe it or not, I've been worse, too. Guess
I can't complain then," he replied.

Richard was greatly relieved to hear the lightness to his voice. He
was going to be all right, he thought. "How much longer are you
going to be cooped up here?"

"Dane told me I'll be moving out of ICU in a little while, so I must
be mending properly," Mulder replied.

"That's good. I'm really glad to hear it. Leslie sends her best,"
Richard said.

"Thanks," he replied. "Tell her I appreciate it." Mulder laid quietly
for a few moments and then asked, "So, how'd you know I was
here?"

"Well," Richard stalled, as he really wasn't sure of how much detail
he wanted to go into without having Dana present. He had decided
he wanted to speak to Mulder in the presence of his wife so no one
could misconstrue his intentions. He didn't want to be seen as
taking advantage of a friendship, limited as it was.

"Well, I came with Rabbi Ginsburg to check on you," he stated. "I
think he wanted to speak with Dana first while I came and chatted
with you," Richard explained.

"Chat about what?" asked the baritone voice from the doorway.

"Hey, Sir. Thanks for coming by," Mulder greeted.

When Richard turned to see who the voice belonged to, he was
surprised. "Walter?" he confirmed.

"Richard?" Skinner said as he reached to take Richard's extended
hand into his own. "How are you?"

"Fine, but shocked to see Mulder here hooked up to a million
tubes," Richard replied. Then turning to Mulder he questioned,
"Sir?"

"Walter's my AD at the FBI," he explained, and then turning his
gaze from Richard to Skinner, he asked, "So what's your excuse?"

"Well," he stammered, "since Adam's bris, I've been trying to attend
Friday night services more regularly, 'cause I'm his Godfather you
see, and well, I know Richard from the Temple. Leslie, too," the
AD offered somewhat awkwardly.

"You met his kids, Walter?" Mulder asked.

"Oh yeah. I'd told Rachael I planned on waiting for her to marry
me, to which she replied, 'That's okay Mr. Skinner, you don't have
to wait.' Humbled the shit out me, I'll tell you," he said with a small
smile.

"Yeah well, Rachael hasn't had Tact 101 yet. We're waiting for her
fourth birthday to enroll her in that one," Richard said with a
chuckle.

"So, seriously," his tone changing, "what are you planning on
chatting about, Richard?" Walter asked.

Richard looked at the AD and realized _he_ knew Richard was Bill
Scully's lawyer. All of a sudden, Walter Skinner looked rather
formidable. Richard wondered if he would be adversarial as well.

"Nothing important for the moment, Walter. Just about the
weather, some B-Ball. Nothing with nothing," he explained.

"Good," Skinner said succinctly.

Mulder looked at the two men as if they were at a tennis match. He
felt his head bobbing back and forth between the two players, and
was getting a little dizzy from the cryptic interplay.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"What do you mean, Mulder?" answered the AD.

"Walter, I've been the brunt of your wordless warnings countless
number of times. I just witnessed one and Richard's not even FBI,
so what's going on?" he insisted.

"Mulder," Richard interjected, "I need to tell you something."
Walter shot Richard a warning glance, but Richard paid him no
heed. "Mulder, you know I'm a lawyer, right?"

Mulder nodded in the affirmative, so Richard continued. "Well, in
addition to the cases Leslie and I deal with from our private
practice, I also work part time as a Public Defender. It helps with
the bills, ya know?" He still had Mulder's attention, so Richard
continued.

"Mulder, I'm not sure how you're going to feel about this, but__,
but I'm acting as your brother-in-law's attorney," Richard
stammered.

Mulder looked at him with his mouth now slightly gaped, but he
didn't say anything for a couple of minutes. Then, he looked
Richard straight in the eye and asked softly, "Are you a good
lawyer?"

Richard had a feeling he knew where Mulder was coming from, and
answered him honestly. "Yeah, Mulder, I am."

"Good," he replied without animosity, "he needs to have a good
lawyer."

"Mulder__," Skinner began.

"Sir, Bill does need a good lawyer. If Scully's going to be so
damned pigheaded about not dropping the charges, then Bill Scully
needs to have a damned good lawyer," Mulder explained.

"You want to drop the charges?" Richard asked in shock. When
he'd first read the details of the case, Richard thought it would
have been Dana who'd want to drop the charges against her
brother, and Mulder who would want to press on. Having already
spoken to Dana, he knew she wanted the charges to stand, but
Mulder's attitude was certainly a twist he hadn't expected.

"Mulder, you don't have to say anything about this now," Skinner
advised.

"Why, Sir? Why can't I say anything? Why won't anyone listen to
me, God damn it!" Mulder shouted. The monitors indicated a rise
in Mulder's blood pressure, which then precipitated a visit from the
charge nurse. They were warned if Mr. Mulder's BP was elevated
again, all visitors would have to leave.

"Mulder, we're listening," Walter tried to reassure.

"No, you're not. I want to drop the charges. I don't want to put
the Scully family through the shit they'd surely have to go through
in order to press these charges. Do you have any idea what it
would do to Maggie to see her son be put on trial? Do you,
Walter?" he implored.

"Mulder, it wouldn't be easy, but he's got to be punished," Walter
said.

"Punished for what? For choosing to hang out with really screwed
up people? For choosing to get so damned drunk on his mother's
front porch that when I took a swing at him he just lost it and
joined in the fun of beating up the brother-in-law that stole his
adoring baby sister away from him?" Mulder berated.

Though Richard heard Mulder say he threw the first punch, he
chose to put it aside for the time being. He was here as a friend,
not a defense attorney.

"Mulder," interjected Richard, "you nearly died."

"Yeah, so what's your point?"

"It seems to me your life and well being should count for
something," Richard said quietly.

Skinner looked at the attorney and wondered if he were merely
playing Devil's Advocate, or really meant what he was saying.

"It is, which is why I really want to drop the charges. I_, I__, I
don't think I could go through experiencing this all again. I don't
want to have to think about it anymore, Richard. Walter? Can you
understand that?" Mulder appealed.

"Yeah, Mulder, I can understand that. The question is, is it the
righteous thing to do?" Richard asked, "And don't look to me for an
answer, 'cause I sure as hell don't know. I honestly don't know."

Both Skinner and Mulder looked at Richard Goldfarb with widened
eyes. "Umm, Goldfarb? Remind me never to ask you to be my
defense attorney, okay?" said Mulder in an all too serious tone.

Richard chuckled at this. "Mulder, you haven't seen me with my
game face on yet. If it comes to that point, I will defend Bill
Scully with the best defense possible. In fact, given the fact that I'm
Jewish, it's probably expected that I would dog it, so in my mind,
I'd have to work even harder to get the guy off.

"Hey," Richard continued, "I'm asking you if _your_ decision is
righteous. Remember Mulder, I'm a Public Defender. A lawyer. I
never said anything about _me_ having to be moral, did I?" he
grinned.

"No, I guess not," Mulder smiled in return. "Richard, what would
you do if it were you? If it was Leslie's brother. Could you see
yourself going through charging him with a crime? Could you see
putting Leslie and her family through that?"

"l don't know, Mulder. I mean Les's family is so 'out there' anyway,
I couldn't conceive of something like this happening with respect to
her family.

"Look, I've talked with this brother-in-law of yours, Mulder. And
given what I know about the guy, I'd say he's nothing more than a
jealous ass. Bigoted? Yeah, probably, but that's as a result of being
more ignorant than anything else. Not because he's inherently evil,
Mulder.

"You asked me if I could put Leslie's family through a trial if
something like this, God forbid, ever happened to me. The truth,
Mulder? I don't know. I've experienced a lot of hate growing up in
this area of the country. There's a lot of hateful people out there
that I would love to see put behind bars and taught a lesson.

"I just don't know if he's one of those people. Maybe he is, maybe
he isn't. Maybe you should have a jury decide that, I don't know.,"
Richard concluded.

"I don't know what to do," Mulder whispered. "Walter, what
should I do?"

"Talk to Dana," was his only reply.

==================================================

Meanwhile, Rabbi Ginsburg was balancing two weak cups of
vending machine coffee while Dana Scully-Mulder finished
changing Adam for what seemed like the hundredth time. In fact,
Maggie went out to the store to make another diaper run.

Dana folded up the disposable diaper and placed it in the plastic
baggie so she could toss it in the wasted basket guilt-free. As she
held the diaper up, she shook her head and said aloud, "This whole
thing started because of these stupid things."

"Beg pardon?" the rabbi said.

"If I hadn't asked Mulder to go out and get the damned diapers, we
wouldn't be in this mess," she said with annoyance. "All because I
asked him to go out to the car."

"Life is full of 'what ifs', Dana. In Judaism, it is thought that the
Book of Life has our names entered with our fates sealed. Of
course, there's nothing to say we can't change our fate, but who's to
say whether your brother would have not shown his anger toward
Fox at yet another time?" Rabbi Ginsburg asked gently.

"I don't know, Rabbi. Mulder said there were bad feelings between
the two of them ever since the wedding. I thought they'd worked
through it, but obviously I was wrong. I was wrong about a lot of
things," she sighed.

"What things?" he coaxed.

"I was wrong about my brother for one. How could I have loved
and put my trust in someone that was so__ so__?" she couldn't find
the word.

"__so ignorant?" the rabbi concluded for her. "Dana, that's what
bigotry is, you know. It's simply ignorance and in ignorance there's
always fear of the unknown if you don't allow yourself the joy of
discovering something or someone new. Your brother obviously
was more apprehensive about making new discoveries and chose to
fear the unknown instead."

"But Rabbi, this is not a stupid man. He hasn't led a sheltered life,"
she argued.

"No? He's in the military?" he asked.

"Navy," she confirmed.

"Career man?" Rabbi asked.

"Yes. He followed in the footsteps of my father," she enlightened.

"Ahh," the rabbi sighed. "I'm not surprised."

"Surprised by what Rabbi Ginsburg? I don't understand."

"Dana, you and your brother were Navy brats, right? You moved
around a lot because your father was transferred to many different
locations in the course of your childhood, yes?" Dana nodded her
head in affirmation of the Rabbi's points.

"Did you live in private housing or on the bases?" When told the
latter, the rabbi then asked, "So, Dana, as a child, how many Jewish
friends did you have?"

"But one of my best . . . friends . . . is . . . Jewish, . . . Rabbi," she
stumbled when she realized how trite her comment was.

"Yes dear, and you married a Jewish man too, but that doesn't
answer my question. When you were a child, how many Jewish
friends did you have?" he probed.

"None," she said solemnly.

"But then you went on to college and you went out into the world
and you made friends and some were Jewish, and some were
African American and some were Asian and some were
Moslem___. Dana, you opened yourself up to a diverse world
when you went away to college, and medical school, and then to
the FBI."

Rabbi Ginsburg sat quietly, allowing Dana to assimilate everything
he'd just confirmed aloud to her. He observed her as she sat
quietly, simply observing the sleeping baby in her arms and tracing
his sweet baby features with her forefinger.

Some moments passed until she looked up and made eye contact
with the rabbi. When she smiled shyly, Rabbi Ginsburg knew she
understood the point he was trying to make.

"He's seen the world, but he's been blind to the people in it, hasn't
he?" she asked rhetorically. "I guess we were limited in the
diversity of peoples that we were exposed to as children. At least
when I went to college and med school, my horizons opened up.

"But Bill remained in that world," she continued. "He was ROTC,
so his vision of the world was even more limited than had he gone
in as a grunt. I couldn't figure out why he was so intolerant. The
thing is, Rabbi, my father was a career man, and I don't remember
him ever being intolerant of people who were different from us.
Never," Dana said earnestly.

"Dana, how often was your father home, and for how long?" he
asked gently.

"Well, he would be gone at sea for weeks, sometimes months at a
time. But then he'd be home for a long period too, before he'd have
to return to his ship," she said.

"So when he came home, it was like Christmas every time, wasn't
it?" Rabbi Gerry probed cautiously. "Not much time for anything
but seeing his kids and doing fun things together, as a family.
Right?"

"Right. But my father was a good man, Rabbi," she declared with
passion.

"I have no doubt he was a good man, because I see the daughter he
helped produce," he agreed.

"But he also produced my bigoted, imbecile of a brother. Is that
what you're trying to say to me?" she asked with some anger.

"I'm saying, Dana, we are a product of our environment, our genes,
and the common sense that God has seen fit to give us. It's up to us
as to whether we use it or not," Rabbi Gerry said. "Dana, I suspect
your brother is a good man too, just like your father. I would guess
that your father probably had more common sense than your
brother. I suspect Fox believes Bill is basically a good man too, or
else he wouldn't be so adamant about dropping the charges."

"I don't know what to do, Rabbi," Dana implored. "What should I
do?"

"Talk to Fox," was his only reply.

St. Anthony's Medical Center
Reception Desk
4:30 pm

"Father Thom! You're early," the pretty receptionist exclaimed.

"Confirmation class later, Angela. I wanted to make my rounds
before I went through the wringer with 20 eighth graders," the
priest laughed.

"Well, that's great, but it's been a madhouse here today, and I
haven't had a chance to make up your list," Angela sighed.

"That's OK, I know most of my people, anyway. What if I just
looked over the new admits since yesterday and pick up the
stragglers," he said with a smile.

"You're a saint, Father," Angela grinned and handed him clipboard.

"I'll make sure you're on my committee, when the Vatican takes a
look at me," Father Thom replied with a wink of his eye as he
accepted the sheets. "So, who came in that I should see?" he
mumbled, mostly to himself. His eyes followed the line of names
until one of them jumped out at him. "Oh no!" he exclaimed. "But
why wouldn't they take him to a DC hospital?" the priest asked no
one in particular. "I better get up there and see what's going on!"

He didn't need directions to find the ICU. Once at the desk, he was
greeted by Patricia. "Hi, Father. How can I help you?" she asked
with a smile.

"Fox Mulder was brought up here last night. His mother-in-law is a
parishoner and he and his wife are having their baby baptised at St.
Mark's in this week. I was wondering how he's doing, can he
have visitors?"

Patricia rolled her eyes. "I'm ready to kick him and the whole
bunch of 'em off the floor, Father," she confided with a twinkle in
her eyes. "But what's a party without one more? Go on in, he's in
number 2. I think the family is down in the lounge, when they
aren't in his room."

"What happened?" the priest asked, concerned. "Car accident?"

Patricia looked furtively around her and shook her head slowly.
"Apparently, his wife's brother and two 'friends' beat him up.
Almost killed him, Father. He's been here since last night--it was
awful. The police have been here, the FBI--like I said, it's been a
Roman Circus. They could probably use some cool heads right
now. Oh, there's a Rabbi in there with them, somewhere," she
added. "Maybe between the two of you, you can calm things down
but you two will probably be outnumbered. It's a downright
shame, that kind of stuff happening and right in front of that sweet
little baby. Why do people act like that, Father?"

Father Thom's stomach had dropped to his shoes and he almost
missed Patricia's last question. He looked up, replaying it in his
mind. "I wish I knew, Patricia. I really wish I knew."

The lounge was around a corner, and Mulder's room was just to
the left as Father Thom entered the floor. He thought about
heading straight to the lounge, but thought better of it and turned to
his left. A man was already leaving, looking very sad. Father
started to nod, then recognized the face. "Richard?"

Richard looked up and seemed to come back to the world around
him. "Father, oh, hello! I'm sorry, my mind was elsewhere--"

"Quite all right. I didn't know you knew the Mulder's. I mean, I
saw you chatting at the class, and thought it was nice, since you all
seem to have chosen the same road to travel, but--"

"Just a small world, Father. I'm defending Mr. Scully--the alleged
assailant," Richard explained.

Father's face dropped. "Oh, Richard. Tell me it was a domestic
dispute, please," he begged.

"I wish I could, I wish I could," Richard murmured. "It appears it
was motivated, Father. There was specific reference to Mr.
Mulder's religious and ethnic affiliation--that's he's Jewish,"
Richard said sadly.

The priest closed his eyes and shook his head. "Poor Maggie. I
know she must be dying inside--she loves her children so much.
And she's considered Fox to be one of her own for so very long,"
he sighed. He opened his eyes and regarded the young man.
"Then, there have been charges made. Which brother are we
talking about?"

"Bill. The older one," Richard explained.

"Another stop on my travels tonight," Father muttered, making a
mental note to visit the jail. "Which precinct?"

"The fifth," Richard supplied and watched as the priest took out a
small notebook and wrote it down.

"How is Fox? I don't want to disturb him if he needs rest," Father
said, looking toward the door to number 2.

"Right now he's more emotionally tired than anything, Father. He
might appreciate a kind word," Richard said. "I need to get home.
Rachael's sick and Leslie's been forced to deal with both the kids
all day--it's time for the Daddy shift," he added with a sadder smile.

"You're a good man, Richard. Leslie is a very lucky young
woman. Give them all hugs for me, won't you?" the priest said,
patting the younger man on the shoulder.

"I will. See you in about three weeks, isn't it?"

The priest thought for a moment. "I do believe I have little Jason
down that week, yes," he nodded. "Are you ready?" he asked with
a knowing smile.

"Yeah, if Leslie's mom can get the Christening gown finished.
She's crocheted every gown worn by any baby in the their family,
you know."

"I know, she does beautiful work. I remember little Rachael's
gown, she looked like a little angel," the priest smiled fondly.
"Well, you better be off. Again, don't forget my hugs and I hope
Rachael is feeling better."

"Thank you, Father--see you later."

The priest stood outside the room. This one is best left in your
hands, Lord, but help me be your instrument, he prayed silently.
Squaring his shoulders, he entered the room. "Hello, Mulder," he
said quietly. Luckily he'd remembered how the younger man
prefered his last name. "I heard you were here, and thought I'd
stop by to say hello."

Mulder had been lost in thought, so it took him a moment to place
the person standing in front of him. It didn't help matters that
Father Thom was going 'incognito'--no collar, but a black polo
shirt instead.

"It's Thom Donovan," the priest said. "Father Thom?"

"Oh, Father, yes, I remember you. Sorry, it's hard to see today,"
Mulder noted, waving toward his swollen face.

"I was speaking with Richard in the hallway. I'm so terribly sorry.
Is there anything I can do?" the priest asked, taking a seat next to
the bed.

Mulder shook his head. "Not unless there's a special talent the
Irish have for knocking sense into each other," he muttered grimly.

"Well, that is what 'walking sticks' were predominantly used for,
but we in the Church tend to frown on the practice," Father
deadpanned, and Mulder broke into a lop sided smile.

"So what do you use now?"

"Well, it depends on who you're refering to. I think the law will
knock some sense into Bill Scully--"

"It's not Bill, it's Dana. She and I have a difference of opinion,"
Mulder sighed and shifted, wincing less that before. He was feeling
a little better, the pain killers were doing the trick. But the
emotions that were being called upon were wearing him ragged.

Father chewed on that piece of information for a minute. "Fox, you
should know that Dana loves you more than anything. You are her
hope. If she's defending her brother--"

Mulder let out a short bark of a laugh. "Not the case, Father. I'm
afraid that if this were a capital crime, Dana would be asking to
throw the switch."

Enlightenment shone in the priest's eyes. "Old sibling rivalries die
hard, is it? Don't look so surprise, Mulder. It happens all the time.
And given the family situation, I'm not at all convinced that if it
hadn't happened now, it would have been a matter of time before it
did come to a head. I remember all too clearly the little 'display'
Bill Scully put on at the rehearsal dinner before your wedding. I
thought there might be trouble then, but when it didn't happen, well
I can't say I didn't hope for the best."

"He's her big brother. He wants to protect her. He thinks she's
made a mistake--"

"And you don't think your religion has anything to do with it?"

"No, well, yes, maybe, a little-- It's all so mixed up. I don't even
know everything about my religion--not all I should know and now
this comes up and it's making me--"

"Question. You're questioning. Is it worth the fight?
Mulder--Fox, I've seen you and Dana together. You supported her
when her faith was being tested--and yours, for that matter. I
remember Maggie calling me after you lost the baby--she was so
worried about both of you. But you struggled through and you
came out on the other side. A great many people would have used
that as an excuse to turn away from God, but you didn't. You
turned toward Him. And from the looks of it, He answered your
prayers."

"Will He answer them now?" Mulder asked. His eyes were dry, but
only because he didn't have tears left.

"Yes. I believe He will. That's what faith is, you see. Not the
question 'Do I believe?', but the answer-- 'yes I do'."

"So, somehow, Dana will come to understand? I don't want to tear
this family apart. I can't watch that happen--I love them all too
much. Even Bill, though I'd rather not say it to his face right now,"
he added.

"Nor should you, if you don't feel like it. You're a psychologist,
Fox. You know that anger is an emotion and emotions aren't bad
in and of themselves. It's when we let them ride roughshod over
reason that we have a problem."

"So that's what Dana's been trying to teach me all these years,"
Mulder chuckled lightly. "I wish she'd listen to herself this time."

"She will, give her, and God, time. Now, you look like you could
use a nap. I want to say hello to your mother-in-law and then I'll
be going. If there's anything you need--"

"Thanks, Father. You've helped, really."


===========================================================


Dana stood outside the door, dreading going in.

It shouldn't be like this, she berated herself. Just 24 hours before,
she'd been terrified to leave his bedside. Now, she was terrified to
face him again. You really are a coward, she chided herself, and
not for the first time.

Her talk with Rabbi Ginsburg had brought something to her
attention. Bill really had led a more sheltered life than she had.
He'd entered the Navy straight out of high school William and
Maggie Scully had always been proud of the fact that they managed
to send all four of their brood to Catholic schools--all the way
through. That was nice and she was glad now that they had done
that, but unfortunately, the Catholic schools of the 70's were often
used as a way of separating the races, as well as the religions. She
knew Bill ran around with some bigoted friends, but her father
never tolerated that. The big problem was, her father wasn't
around now, to put his foot down when it was needed.

Still, it went beyond that. It went to old wounds and hurts that had
festered for a long time. She was a grown woman, and she'd
convinced herself that meant she had to give up on the anger that
had fueled much of her childhood relationship with her older
brother. She now saw that it might have covered over it, but it
didn't make it go away. It was there, just under the surface. Bill's
attitude toward Mulder hurt her because she saw it as a personal
affront. It was as if Bill was again telling her she wasn't smart
enough to make a good choice for a spouse, that she had 'settled'
for the first man who had looked her way.

That is what really upset her. That he was belittling her husband.
Funny thing was, when she looked at it calmly, Fox had very little
to do with it. He was the victim, not a real participant in this little
power struggle between siblings. What really hurt her was that her
husband was telling her to grow up and put it behind her. But the
fact remained--she really didn't want to. Not this time.

Her arms felt empty. She'd been holding Adam as a shield. No one
crossed her when the baby was in her arms. But now, she'd left
Adam in her mother's care and was here to 'talk things out' with
her husband. She knew exactly how important this discussion was.
It was not just a disagreement, it was a drawing of a line in the
sand. Somehow, either they came out of this on the same side, or
not at all. And that thought frightened her more than she cared to
admit.

Steeling herself, she walked into the room.

He looked pale, even with the black and blue marks coloring his
skin. She winced at each dark suture that marred his lip. She
ached at the bandages she could see faintly through his thin hospital
gown. The tubes were decreasing in number with each passing
hour, but he was still hooked up to enough machinery to remind her
that he wasn't here for the cuisine. She hated to put him in any
further pain.

He saw her before she had a chance to speak. The smile that lit up
his face erased all the anxiety she'd felt in the hallway. He spoke
first. "Hi, G-woman," he said and reached for her hand.

"Hi yourself, G-man," she answered and grabbed his hand like it
was the last life ring off the Titanic. She sat down on the high
backed chair--her body fitting into the grooves she'd left over the
last 24 hours.

"I've had a few visitors, but I missed you," Mulder said, his eyes
gleaming at her.

"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't want to argue before--I just--" she
trailed off as he took her hand and placed gentle kisses on her
knuckles.

"You've been under a lot of pressure. I'm sorry if I upset you," he
said sincerely.

"Mulder, you jerk," she huffed. "You're the one in the hospital
bed! I'm not supposed to upset _you_!"

"We need to talk," he said tenderly.

"I don't want to talk. I want to sit here and let you kiss my hand,"
she pouted.

"Dane--"

"I know, I know. OK, so when last we parted company, I wanted
to throw the book at my asshole brother William, and you were
displaying an incredible capacity to 'turn the other cheek'. Does
that about sum it up?"

"Not exactly. Next time he comes after me, I fully intend to take
him down, make no mistake," Mulder said with a lopsided
grin. "But I don't want the already overburdened court system, not
to mention the prison system, getting all the fun." As always,
Mulder was making light of the situation.

"I don't know if that will stop it, Mulder. I mean, Ahab could stop
it, but sometimes, and I'll be perfectly honest--he used his belt.
He's not here. Maybe all Bill understands now is 'the belt'. Maybe
it's the only way to get through to him." Dane noticed the visible
shudder Mulder's body involuntarily made when she mentioned "the
belt."

"Dane, listen to yourself. This isn't some 15 year old punk who
we're going to 'scare straight' by having him spend a night in
county lock up. This is a man, with a wife and family to provide
for. If he does jail time, not just one life is ruined. Four lives are
ruined. His career would be over--the only life he's ever known.
His name, your name, would be muddied. And I don't even want
to bring up what the trial would do to Mom. Dane, it would
kill her. She's strong, but she's not as young as she used to be,
and it scares me to think of putting her through that kind of hell."

Dana was trying hard not to get upset, but she was still convinced
of her position. "You don't understand. If we drop the charges,
he'll think it was all a game. He'll think he can get by with doing
this to me all the time--"

Mulder caught the change of reference and noted it. "Dane, Billy
boy kicked the shit out of _me_. This wasn't about you," he said
softly, but with enough conviction that Scully knew he wasn't
joking around this time.

"Yes, it was," she argued, getting to her feet and pacing the floor.
"That's where you're wrong, Mulder. It is about me. It's about
me and my brother and all the times he teased me and made me cry
and hurt me and locked me in closets because he thought it was
funny--" Tears that she didn't want were falling down her cheeks
but she continued.

"Bill, perfect Bill. Always, every fucking time Ahab went to sea, he
would call us all in the hallway to say goodbye. And he would kiss
Missy and tell her to help Mom, and he would pat Bill on the
shoulder and tell him that he was the man of the house. And then
he'd kiss me and call me his Starbuck and kiss Charlie and call him
his 'tuna' and he'd leave. And the minute Mom's back was turned,
it would start. Bill was a little dictator--Benito Mussolini. He'd
boss us around and yell at us and tear up our stuff--he did it all the
time. And I was the only one who would see it, I was the only one
who would fight back. And I hated him for it, and I still do!"

"Dane, you don't hate him. You may have hated what he did
to you, but you don't hate him." As she was about to protest,
Mulder, holding out his good arm, tenderly said, "Come here."

She shook her head sadly. "No, I'll hurt your ribs," she protested.

"Can't be done, I'm on the 'good stuff'," he grinned. "Come here,
and that's an order. I had Father Donovan slip in an 'and obey' line
in Latin while you weren't listening," he joked.

She gingerly crawled into his open arms. "I know Latin," she
sniffed, trying not to smile.

"Yeah, well, then would you believe I had Rabbi Gerry stick in
an 'and obey' line in the ketubah?" Mulder said, "And don't tell me
you've suddenly developed the ability to read Hebrew just so you
could read our marriage contract," he said with a light chuckle.

He hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry your brother was always such
a shit to you," he whispered in her ear, then moved to kiss her hair.
"If I'd known you then, I'd have kicked his ass for you."

"I can take care of myself," she said, wiping her nose on her hand.
"I need a tissue," she told him and moved to reach one, then came
back to the comfort of his arms. "Mulder, what he said, his
motivation--how can you condone that? How can you let him get
by with that? This is an injustice that has to be rectified. Isn't that
what we've been doing for the last 6 years? Putting scum who do
this kind of shit to people behind bars?"

"First of all, sweetheart, a good deal of our cases dealt more with
actual 'scum' than actual people, if you'll remember," he joked.
"But yes, I see what you're trying to say, but you know, you've just
contradicted yourself." When she looked at him quizzically, he
continued making his point.

"Dane, was his motivation to put my lights out because I'm a Jew,
or because _I_, Fox Mulder, married his little sister, and to make
matters worse, I wasn't even Catholic. I think at this point, you
could probably substitute _any_ religion, or nationality, or race in
the blank, Dane, that _wasn't_ Irish Catholic.

"I don't think Bill cared so much that I was a Jew, as much as I
married his baby sister and also happened to be Jewish. You
yourself said how much he liked to boss you around. Can you
imagine how ambivolent he felt when he learned his beloved baby
sister, who seemed so happy, was marrying someone without _his_
personal seal of approval? And then to find out it wasn't someone
just like him, well, that must have felt like a royal slap in the face.
Like _you_ slapped him in the face, and that was probably worse!
Imagine, a big, strong guy like that having to take that kind of crap
from his little sister.

"So what would we be punishing him for, Dane? For what would
we be throwing the book at him? So, instead of asking what was
Bill's motivation, perhaps the person whose motivation we should
be questioning is yours?" At that, Mulder could feel her stiffen in
his arms, but he held fast to her, and would not let her loose. He
felt it was important to let her know just how much he loved her,
even when he felt she was wrong.

"Dane, don't leave me. I love you, and I know you love me. But,
as angry as you are with Bill, you can't tell me you don't love him.
Please, don't tell me you can throw away love as easily as that,"
Mulder asked emotionally.

When Dane turned to look at him, she realized just how drained
he looked. She was about to tell him that they could finish talking
about this another time, but he interrupted her thoughts and
continued speaking.

"There's also something else to consider. This may sound trite, but,
to be honest, I don't want to bear the responsibility for William
Scully, Jr.'s attitude against all Jews. I'm so afraid Dane, that even
though he didn't start out thinking that way, he might find it
convenient to turn me and other Jews into a scapegoat for his
problems.

So the question is, do we charge him with Bias Crimes because he's
so stupid? Dane, I'm not going to tell you it doesn't hurt, no more
than you could tell me that he didn't hurt you in doing this to me.
But I just don't know if throwing him in jail for a goodly number of
years and ripping him away from his family is the lesson we want to
teach him.

"You said I was better at 'Turning the Other Cheek'. I'll be honest,
I don't know if it's that as much as I don't want to feel responsible
for tearing this family apart. Dane, I felt that responsibilty once in
my life already, and I don't want to ever feel that way again.

"You know what my fondest wish was concerning my family? I
mean aside from wanting Sam to return? I wanted them to forgive
me. Dane, they always blamed be for Sam's disappearance, and
they never forgave me. Families are supposed to forgive and love
one another, aren't they? I'd always wished mine had. Please, don't
give up on this family so easily, Dane."

"I don't care," she said flatly, her voice harboring no emotion what
so ever.

"You don't care if this tears my family apart?" Mulder asked, his
voice taking on an edge for the first time. He swallowed down his
anger, knowing it had no place here, between them. "Dane, I've
spent my life trying to accomplish the one thing I thought would
bring my old family back together again--find my sister. I have a
new family, a good and loving family. How can you ask me to be
the one who destroys that family, too? Dane, I've searched for
over two decades for a sister I lost. Please, please don't throw
away a brother who is standing right in front of you. Once lost,
they are just too hard to replace."

She turned to him then, and he could see the torment his words had
caused in her. But Mulder smiled, too. Because in her eyes, and
through the tears, he could see hope.

Baltimore County Courthouse
9:30 am

Richard sat at the defense attorney's desk and waited for his client.
He didn't know what was going to happen. When he'd left the
hospital last night, he knew that Rabbi Ginsburg and Father Thom
were there to counsel the Mulders. He hoped they were able to
help them. He hoped they were able to help him and his client.

He had to deal with Bill Scully, and he didn't know what to tell him.
Richard didn't know if the charges were going to stand, nor did he
know if he was going to be granted bail. In his heart, he didn't
know if he wanted this guy out on bail if the charges were going to
stand.

He looked around the courtroom and saw a young woman looking
for a seat close to the front of the courtroom. Richard was certain
that the young woman was related to Scully. Perhaps it was the
darkened circles under the red eyes that gave him the clue. Or
perhaps it was the fact that he overheard her ask the bailiff if
William Scully, Jr. had been brought into court yet.

"Excuse me, Miss? My name is Richard Goldfarb. I'm William
Scully's lawyer. May I help you?" Richard asked.

"I'm Tara Scully, Mr. Goldfarb. I'm Bill's wife," she said
tremulously.

"When did you get into Maryland?" he asked.

"I took the red eye and got in about 6 o'clock this morning. I flew
all night and then drove from Dulles to here," she answered.

"Where are your kids?" he asked, more out of curiosity than
concern.

"Friends in San Diego, bless them. I don't know how many times
I'm going to have to watch their kids in order to pay 'em back," she
sighed. "But I didn't think it would be wise to bring the children."

Richard mumbled in agreement, and then asked her if she knew
what was going on.

"I know that Bill was arrested for getting into a fist fight with
Dana's husband," she responded.

"Mrs. Scully, I'm afraid it's a little more complicated than that,"
Richard replied. "It wasn't just a fist fight. Mrs. Scully, your
husband and two of his old high school chums have been accused of
Assault and Battery as well as a Bias Crimes Assault Charge,"
Richard Goldfarb explained quickly.

"I don't understand. Assault?" she asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Scully, Assault. Mulder was badly beaten. He was
unconscious for a number of hours, his kidney had been damaged,
and the doctors weren't sure if he was going to make it." At the
shocked expression on Tara Scully's face, Richard paused. He
realized she had been kept in the dark via the long distance phone
calls between Baltimore and San Diego.

"Does Bill know you're here?" he asked gently.

"No, no, he doesn't. I phoned Maggie from the hotel to let her
know. She told me I was lucky that I'd actually caught her at
home, gathering supplies. I should have realized when she said that
they had been at the hospital all night.

"But she had said Fox was doing fine and not to worry, yet if he
was that badly hurt, and there are these charges against Bill_, Oh
my God. This can't be happening__," Tara cried out.

"Take a seat Mrs. Scully. Your husband should be coming out very
shortly," and as if on cue, Bill Scully appeared from the side door.
As he emerged, he caught sight of Richard Goldfarb and breathed a
small sigh of relief. Then he looked beyond Richard and saw Tara.
He thought his heart was going to stop.

"Tara?!" he cried out as a child might when caught by his parents
doing something forbidden, but still relieved that they were there to
save him from himself.

"Bill," she called to him. "Oh Bill, why?"

"Mrs. Scully, I need you to sit down quietly now. This is Bill's bail
hearing and we want the judge to hear only what *I* want him to
hear at the moment, okay? You'll get a chance to speak with your
husband later," promised Richard.

As the bailiff entered the courtroom to announce the arrival of the
Judge, Richard scanned the room again to see if the cavalry was
going to arrive. When the bailiff called for the first defendant,
Richard realized the chances of having the charges dropped were
getting slimmer and slimmer as time passed.

Richard knew he had another four to five names to wait through
before Bill's case number was called. He looked through his papers
once more and then looked up again.

The cavalry had arrived.

He just wasn't sure whose side they were on.

Walter Skinner was staring at the back of Bill Scully's head, while
another man, a young redhead like his client, talked to Walter and
pointed in the direction of Tara Scully. Richard realized he must
have been Bill and Dana's younger brother.

Finally, Richard caught Walter's eye and when Richard mouthed
something that could be interpreted as similar to "What's going
on?" Walter merely nodded slightly and looked at the younger man
standing next to him. Richard wasn't sure if this was a good omen
or not, but it didn't matter since he'd just heard his client's name
called on the docket.

Both client and lawyer both stood before the judge. When the
judge called Bill's name again, he asked him if he understood the
charges against him. Bill nodded mutely, but found his voice when
the judge informed him he needed to speak aloud if he was capable.

"Yes, Your Honor. I understand the charges," William Scully, Jr.
replied with a tremor in his voice. William Scully, Jr. was scared to
death.

"These are very serious charges, Mr. Scully. Very serious. What
kind of bail are you seeking here?" the Judge asked.

"Your honor, as this is Mr. Scully's first offense I would like to
request PR," Richard proposed, knowing full well they'd never get
it.

"Your Honor," interjected the District Attorney, "I can't even
imagine that the Defense would ask for personal recognizance.
This man is on shore leave from the US Navy and must be
considered a flight risk. I respectfully request bail be denied," the
DA proposed, knowing full well he'd never get it.

"Excuse me, Your Honor," called out the strong voice from the
rear of the courtroom. "May I come forward."

Richard turned to see Walter Skinner walk forward with some
documents in his hand. "I apologize for this last minute intrusion,
but I only just received the documents needed to present to the
court with regards to this case.

Richard looked at Walter and saw a glint in his eye. Richard knew.
The cavalry did indeed arrive, but he was going to milk this for all
that it was worth and make Bill Scully sweat a little more. Good.
Richard was all for a little sweat.

"Your Honor, my name is Walter Skinner. I am an Assistant
Director of the FBI based in Washington, DC. The victim in this
case is one of my agemts, Special Agent Fox William Mulder. It
was through my office that the Federal Bias Assault charges were
filed. I have in my hands papers that address those charges,"
Skinner stopped here and waved the papers a bit.

Richard thought wryly to himself, *Walter, you're good. You're
very good.* He looked over at Bill Scully and could feel him
squirming. *Good, Billy boy, squirm away. It's a small price for
what you'd done. A very small price indeed.*

Walter droned on and on for another few minutes, when even the
judge had had enough. "Umm, Mr. Skinner, do you think you
could make your point? We've got a full docket here today."

"I'm sorry Your Honor," Walter said with just enough earnestness
to be believable. "I just want to make sure all of the 'T's' are
crossed as they say. Your Honor, these are the required forms that
need to be submitted in order to drop the Federal charges."

"Oh thank you, God," cried out Tara from behind. Charles Scully
had already gone to sit nearby his brother's wife to offer his
support, and held her hands in comfort.

"Thank you AD Skinner," the judge said as he took the papers from
him. "Since the Federal Charges are dropped, may I ask if the
District Attorney's Office plans on doing the same with the state
charges of Assault?"

"I'm not sure, Sir," replied the DA. "This is the first I've heard
about the federal charges being dropped, but since much of our
case was based upon the federal charges, Sir, I wouldn't be
surprised if circumstances would warrant our office to drop the
state charges as well. I'll have to contact the victim to see if he
wishes to drop all charges."

"Your Honor," Skinner interjected, "if I might offer some additional
information that might help clear your docket more quickly? I've
just come from the hospital where I've had the opportunity to speak
with the victim and his family. They are planning on dropping all
charges against Mr. Scully."

"Given the federal charges are now moot, this additional
information, and this is the defendant's first offense, I will grant
personal recognizance. When the DA's Office learns of anything
further, I assume you'll notify the defendant and my office?"

"Yes, Sir."

When the judge dismissed them, Bill immediately turned toward his
wife and took long strides to take her into his arms. "I knew she
wouldn't let me down, Tara." When Bill looked up, he noticed
Charlie standing nearby. "Charlie! Charlie, thanks. I knew you'd
talk some sense into her. I knew it! I knew Dana wouldn't let me
down," he repeated over and over out of sheer relief.

"You idiot."

Bill turned around to see what the voice of authority wanted.
"What did you say?" Bill asked arrogantly. He was a free man, and
he felt he could take on the world. Even an Assistant Director of
the FBI.

"I said, 'you idiot'," repeated Skinner.

"Look, I don't care what you think. My little brother and my baby
sister didn't let me down, and that's all I care about," he crowed.

"It wasn't Dana. Dana still wanted to see you rot in jail for what
you did to her husband as of 6 o'clock this morning. So, you see, it
wasn't Dana who saved your ass, you idiot." Skinner stared at him.

"Charlie?" questioned Bill, as he looked at his younger brother for
corroboration of his beliefs. When Charlie simply shook his head,
Bill looked back at Skinner.

" It was Mulder who insisted the charges be dropped, all of the
charges. Mulder saved your ass, you idiot.," he hissed, and then
turned on his heels and walked out of the courtroom.

*****

Skinner had left the courtroom before Charlie, but Charlie knew
Skinner had to return a Bureau car back to the DC parking lot by
the afternoon. He had said he would return to the hospital
immediately after he exchanged the Bureau car for his personal car.

Now, Charlie, alone, was driving Bill and Tara to the motel so they
could both freshen up before they all went to the hospital to see
Mulder. When Charlie learned that he and Walter Skinner were
going to deliver the documents that notified the court that the
Federal Bias Charges were going to be dropped, he took the liberty
of picking Bill's things up from his mother's home and rented him a
room in the same motel in which he and Karen were staying. He
figured there would be less strain on the family if he was out of the
family home and in the motel.

Bill was quiet. He was thinking about the inevitable meeting that
would take place between his brother-in-law and himself. He was
also contemplating what his sister's reaction would be when she
saw him. He had assumed all along it would be Dana's decision to
drop the charges, and then all would be right again between them.
But to find out that it was Mulder, instead of his sister, who insisted
the charges be dropped was almost too much for William Scully, Jr.
to bear. He was, in fact, unsure as to which of the two he felt more
anxious about seeing, Mulder or Dana.

Freshly showered and changed, Bill and Tara drove to the hospital
with Charlie. As they entered the parking lot, Bill found his voice
for the first time since they'd left the courthouse.

"How is he?" he asked his brother.

"He's holding his own. They finally moved him out of ICU last
night. He had kept setting off the monitors for one reason or
another, so they were a little leery about letting him leave the more
protective environment. Somehow he managed to convince them
though. He's in a regular room, but he's still hooked up to a
million tubes, or so it seems," Charlie replied.

"How's Dana dealing with it?" asked Tara.

"Better, now that he's in the regular room. She can see light at the
end of the tunnel, ya know?" replied Charlie.

"Has she said anything about me?" asked Bill.

"Yeah, Bill, but for now, let's not even go there, okay?" said
Charlie.

They pulled into the hospital parking lot and parked. The trio
walked to the hospital entrance, and as they were about to enter,
Bill pulled back.

"Bill?" questioned Tara.

"I don't think I can do this," he replied.

"Excuse me?" Charlie responded indignantly. "What do you mean
you don't think you can do this?"

"I don't think I can go face him," Bill admitted. "I don't think I can
face her, after what I did."

"My God, Bill. I think that's the first time I've heard a little bit of
contrition on your part," Charlie declared.

Bill didn't respond, but did follow his brother and wife through the
hospital entrance.


==========================================================


Charlie led his brother and sister-in-law to the elevator so they
might go directly to Mulder's room. He knew the new room
number was 542, so he didn't bother to stop at the information
desk. When they got off the elevator and walked towards the
room, Charlie caught the eye of one of the nurses he'd met earlier
that morning before he'd left for court.

"Hi Marcy, how's he doing?" he asked.

"Well, so far so good," she replied. "He's pretty drugged up for
now, and totally out of it. But I think your mom and dad are in
there with him now."

"My mom and _dad_?" he echoed. Charlie looked at Bill with a
quizzical expression and headed toward the room. When he peeked
in, he saw his mom and Walter Skinner sitting side by side, holding
hands while Mulder slept through it all.

Charlie stood by the door and cleared his throat so that his mother
wouldn't be startled by their appearance. He then walked in,
leaving Bill and Tara in the hospital corridor. He saw her look up,
but instead of letting go of Walter Skinner's hand, she seemed to
squeeze it even more tightly.

Next, she turned toward the door and when she saw it was Charlie,
she smiled in relief. "Charlie, I'm glad you're here. Walter and I
could use a break."

"Where's Dana, Mom?" he asked.

"We sent her to the cafeteria with Adam and Karen to get herself
some food. She hasn't eaten much of anything in about twenty-four
hours, and I was afraid it would affect her milk supply," she replied.
"Is he here?"

"Outside, in the hall with Tara."

"Yes, Walter told me Tara had arrived. That's good. He could
probably use her support right now," Maggie replied. "We're going
to go join Dana in the cafeteria for something to eat. It's been
hours since Walter and I have had anything of substance to eat too.
Would you mind staying with Fox for a little bit, dear?"

"No, Mom, but would you bring me back a sandwich or something.
I haven't eaten anything all day either."

"Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry. I forgot you were out at the crack of
dawn with Walter. I'll bring you back some__," she was saying.

"__I'll stay with Mulder," he said from the doorway.

"What?" several voices replied.

"I'll stay with Mulder. You guys take Tara and go get something to
eat," Bill said.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Walter observed.

"I promise I won't touch him, Mr. Skinner," retorted Bill.

"Bill, stop_," Maggie began.

"Mom, I didn't mean anything by that. I was actually being serious,
since it's obvious Mr. Skinner doesn't trust me yet."

"Can you blame me, Bill?" Skinner asked.

"No, I guess not. But it doesn't change the fact that you all need
something to eat, and I have volunteered to stay with him. So go.
I promise he'll be in one piece when you get back, okay?" he
insisted.

Reluctantly, they all left for the cafeteria for a bite to eat, while Bill
Scully sat down in the hard plastic chair at the far end of the bed.

He looked at the sleeping patient and noted for the first time the
results of his handiwork. The guy was a mess, and this was two
days later. He could only imagine what he looked like on the night
he was brought in. Bill had no idea as to what Mulder had looked
like on the night of the fight. There was so much blood and he was
so drunk, he wouldn't have been able to figure out his own mirror
image if he were forced to pick it out of a line up that night.

So now he observed a sleeping Mulder. His eyes were really
swollen with brightly colored bruises surrounding them. His cheek
looked swollen too, and he had a pretty heavy bandage on the back
of his head. Scully had a vague recollection of someone kicking
Mulder in the head, but he didn't remember the details.

Scully tried to count the seemingly endless number of wires and
tubes that were attached to Mulder's body. They were connected
to a couple of monitors that made insistent and annoying beeping

sounds. Bill suddenly wondered if maybe it wasn't such a good idea
that he stay with Mulder. The guy seemed to be in "La-La-Land,"
so what did he need him to be there for?

It wasn't so much the thought of a Mulder in slumber that disturbed
Bill Scully. It was the notion of a fully awake Mulder that scared
the hell out of him. Bill wondered what he would say to Mulder if
he actually woke up right now, with him alone in the room with
him, and then he wondered what Mulder would say in return.

Suddenly, it looked like Bill Scully might get an answer to his
question. Mulder started groaning in his stupor, and began stirring
in the bed. Bill couldn't tell if the man was in pain, or if he was
dreaming or a combination of both. As Scully contemplated calling
a nurse in, Mulder began to groan more extensively, and shake his
head from side to side more emphatically.

Next, Bill heard him mumble some words, and disjointed as they
were, Bill understood what Mulder was dreaming about. He was
remembering the night of the beating. He was watching Mulder
relive that nightmare all over again. Now Scully was certain he
needed to call the nurse. The monitors started to beep more
furiously, and all of a sudden, Mulder jerked forward, shout "NO!"

When Mulder opened his eyes, all he managed to focus on was a
large, broad chested red headed figure. The same figure he'd just
envisioned pummeling him as though he was Rocky Balboa's
punching bag. The same figure that watched as his head was used
as a football being readied for the extra point kick. The same figure
that was so drunk, he didn't have a clue as to how much he'd hurt
him or scared him.

Scully became unsettled as the monitors began to beep even faster
and seemingly louder, but he started to out and out panic when he
saw blood begin to trickle out of Mulder's nose. "What the hell?"
he cried out in alarm. He stood up, ran to the door, and called out
in distress, " Help! We need help in here! Please! He needs help!"

Within moments Marcy and another floor nurse came rushing into
Mulder's room. Marcy immediately instructed the other nurse to
page the doctor, and then moved to Mulder's side.

"Mr. Mulder," she said soothingly, "shhh. You need to calm
yourself down. Shhh, your blood pressure is starting to skyrocket.
Shhh."

She turned and looked at Bill Scully. "What happened?" she asked.

"I don't know. One minute he was sleeping, and the next minute he
started moaning and groaning, and mumbling something," answered
Bill.

"Nightmare?" she asked.

"Guess so," he confirmed.

"Well, it obviously caused him to stress out, because his blood
pressure topped out at 210/130. Damn, and this is with all of the
lovely drugs the man's been pumped up with. I can only imagine
what it would have been if he hadn't been on the the sedative,"
observed Marcy.

Just then the intern walked in and asked Bill to leave so that he
could examine the patient. As Bill walked out of the door, he saw
Dana walking up the corridor. As Dana came closer and closer to
her husband's room, she noted the increase of hospital staff that was
moving in and out of his room. She began to run toward the room
when she nearly ran right into Bill.

"Whoa! Dana, slow down. The doctor's in there with him now,"
he said in an attempt to allay her fears. Unfortunately, the only
doctor at this point she wanted at Mulder's side was herself.

"What the hell happened? Damn it Bill, what the hell happened?"
she angrily asked.

"Dana, I don't know. I think he had a bad dream. His blood
pressure shot up too high," he said.

"How high?" she asked feeling the relative safety of Doctor mode.

"Oh I don't know. I think the nurse said something like 200
something over 130," he replied.

"Ohmigod, that's way too high. He could stroke out," she cried
out. "How could this happen? He was so doped up he shouldn't
have felt anything! How could he have had such a crisis?" she
demanded to know.

"Dana, I don't know. One minute the guy was sleeping and the
next minute he was sitting straight up looking like he'd seen a
ghost. And in case you're wondering, I didn't do or say anything to
him, so you can just knock that ridiculous idea out of your head
right now," he retorted with annoyance.

At that moment, the medical staff started filing out. The doctor
stopped to explain to Dana that Mulder had experienced a bout of
extremely high blood pressure and that they would have to keep a
vigilant eye on it to prevent the possibility of stroke. The injury to
the kidney probably played an initial role in the increased BP, but
this particular episode seemed to result from stress.

"Mr. Mulder," the doctor continued to explain, "is being treated
with drug therapies, and close monitoring will continue for the next
couple of days at least. The nurses will be charting his BP
automatically via the electronic monitors. Visitors should probably
be limited for the next couple of hours at least, just to give his body
a chance to recover from this episode. Any questions?"

Dana shook her head and the doctor excused himself. She then
looked at her older brother and told him it was probably not a good
idea for him to visit with Mulder at this time.

"Maybe later," she offered. "Maybe tomorrow, or the next day.
Maybe never. If you want to do something, please go down and
get Mom. I really need to feed the baby."

"Dana, please," Bill pleaded. "Please don't shut me out like this."

"Why not, Bill? Why not treat you like you've treated me and my
husband? It's not very pleasant to be treated like a pariah, is it Bill?
Well, get used to it Big Brother. Mulder may have decided to turn
the other cheek, and though I finally acquiesced to Mulder's wishes
regarding dropping the charges, that does not mean I've changed
my feelings toward you, Bill.

"I told you once, and I will tell you again. You are dead to me,"
and with that she turned to go into her husband's hospital room.

*****

Bill found his way down to the cafeteria with little problem. His
sister's directions had been simple enough, but his feet were moving
on autopilot and he almost turned the wrong way before correcting
himself. When he entered the lunchroom, he noticed Charlie and
Assistant Director Skinner, deep in discussion in the corner. Bill
frowned and decided to avoid them. Then he spotted his wife,
holding baby Adam on her lap. The sight of her cradling an infant
brought him thoughts of his own children and he ached to hold
them. His mother looked up from her conversation and brought
him back to the present.

"Bill, are you all right?" Typical Mom, always quick to see what
was going on, even when it wasn't what you wanted.

"I'm fine, Mom. Just fine." He shuffled over to the table where
Tara, Karen and Maggie were watching Adam and attempting to
eat at the same time. "Mom, uh, Dana asked if you would bring
Adam up to her. She's . . . ah, . . ." He gestured vaguely across his
chest and blushed.

An understanding gleam came to Karen's eyes. "Ready to burst, I
bet," she smiled as Maggie scooped Adam out of Tara's arms.
"But why didn't she just come down and get him?"

Bill sat down in the chair his mother had just vacated. "Mulder's, .
. . his blood pressure is up again," he said haltingly. "She doesn't
want to leave him right now."

Karen let out a small whiff of breath, but said nothing further.
Maggie swallowed audibly, clutching the baby close to her and
biting her bottom lip. Tara just looked at her husband with
concern. "Did you get to see him at all?" she asked softly.

Bill nodded woodenly. "Yeah. For a minute." He turned his head,
his chest heaving with each breath, trying to hold in his emotions in
front of his mother and sister-in-law. "Tara, can we take a walk?"
he pleaded.

"Sure, Sweetheart," Tara replied and got up, taking his hand and
pulling him up, too. "Maggie, we'll just be out in the courtyard, if
you need us," she said and led her husband out of the room.

Maggie stood there, her heart breaking. She watched as her son
walked slowly out of the cafeteria, wondering when they could be a
family again. Then Adam stirred in her arms. "I'd better get you to
Mommy before she sends out the whole FBI to find us," she said,
but the humor of her words didn't reach her eyes. "Karen?"

"I'll get Charlie and Mr. Skinner. We'll follow you up," she
assured Maggie.

Out in the courtyard, Tara and Bill walked in silence. Tara found a
little park bench and sat down, pulling Bill down next to her. They
sat there, Tara taking in the late afternoon sunshine and the cool
breeze of spring, Bill lost in his thoughts. After the time stretched
out beyond their normal silences, Tara took his hand and kissed it.
"Out with it, Sailor or I'll make you walk the plank," she teased.

Bill drew in shuddering breath and stood up, releasing her hand.
"Probably too good for me," he said sourly.

"Bill--" she started but he cut her off with a glare.

"Tara, you don't know what happened!" he stormed. "You have
no idea!"

"Then tell me, dammit! Stop holding it all in! It does you no good
when you do that, you know," she accused angrily, then seeing the
crestfallen face of her husband, she backed down. "Talk to me,
Sweetheart. You know I love you, nothing will ever change that.
Just talk to me."

"Why do you love me?" he asked, and for the first time since their
marriage, she realized he truly didn't know that answer to that
question.

"Because you are a good and loving man. Because you treat me
and your children as the most important people on earth. Because
you are honest, and caring and you don't have a mean bone in your
body--"

"But that's not true, Tara," he sobbed. "It's nice and I'm grateful
you feel that way, but it's not true. I do have a mean streak. I do.
And I've let it take over and cloud my vision and I hate myself for
it--I don't know why you don't hate me, too. Dana does. Charlie
does."

"Bill, don't say that. It's a lie. You're just upset, you've been
through a lot--"

"_I've_ been through a lot?!" he cried incredulously. "_ME_ !
Hell, Tara, what have I been through? I spent a night in jail--big
fucking deal! At least I wasn't bleeding and unconscious and
hooked up to machines all night. At least I wasn't sitting by your
hospital bed, praying to God that you'd be alive in the morning! At
least I hadn't just lost faith in a brother I used to look up to for
everything--FOR EVERYTHING! At least my son hadn't just
been accused of attempted murder--and by all rights was GUILTY!
I didn't go through SQUAT, do you hear me! SQUAT!"

Tara sat there, holding back her sobs, knowing he had to get it all
out and she was the only one who would listen. It didn't make it
any easier, just her job as the woman who loved him.

"I did all those things to them, Tara. Me. Me and my selfish belief
that I always know what's right for everybody. And it wasn't even
that, really. It was, . . . it was . . ." he stumbled looking for words.

"Jealousy," she whispered, but in the silence of the evening it
sounded like a boom in his ears. He looked down at her face,
amazed at her insight.

"Yeah," he whispered in kind. "I think that might have been a little
of it."

"A lot of it, I would wager," Tara said a little louder. She stood up
and put her arms around his waist. "You lost a little sister. I'm not
talking about Missy, either. I'm talking about Dana. She's his
now, but sweetheart, she's been his for a very long time. Just as
you are mine."

"I know that," he whispered, hiding his face in her hair.

"And it hurt when another man called Maggie 'Mom', I could see
that."

"She's _my_ mother, not his," he sobbed.

"But Karen calls her 'Mom' and that doesn't bother you," Tara
pointed out gently.

"No, but then Karen is--"

"A girl. And it doesn't diminish you, does it?" Tara responded and
hugged him tighter. "Sweetheart, I know you know this, but maybe
you need to hear the words. Maggie has more than enough love in
her heart for all of us. Having Fox Mulder added to her brood
doesn't diminish her love for any of us one little bit. If anything, it
increases it," she added, pulling back and taking his face in her
hands. "Weren't you happy when she accepted me?"

"Of course I was," he exclaimed immediately. "I loved you from
the moment we met, I wanted Mom to love you, too. And Dad."

"How about Dana and Charlie and Missy? Remember when Missy
called me uptight?"

His eyes darkened. "I'd forgotten that. But she got over it. She
apologized."

"Do you see where I'm heading?" she asked, taking him back to the
bench to sit down again.

"Yes, but I don't know how to make it right. It's too screwed up
now to fix," he sighed and threw his head back on the back of the
bench. "I don't think Dana will ever forgive me."

"How about Mulder?" Tara asked.

"If I were him, I'd never forgive me," Bill said grimly.

"Oh, yeah? Boy, you have a great short term memory, Sweets, but
your long term memory sucks," Tara said with a grim laugh. He
shot her a questioning look. "You're telling me you don't
remember? You honestly don't remember my brothers taking you
to that strip joint and leaving you there before our wedding. And
then going down the street and calling the cops and the place was
raided and my father had to bail you out. You don't remember
that?" she demanded.

"I absolutely have to stay the hell away from alcohol," Bill stated
firmly. "But yes, I have to admit, I do have recollections of that
night. I just buried them so deep I couldn't remember for a minute
what you were talking about."

"You forgave them. As a matter of fact, you guys get along great
now," she said pointedly.

"I don't think that's going to happen this time, Tara," he said sadly.

"I don't think you and Mulder are ever going to be 'drinking
buddies', especially if you do swear off the stuff, because you don't
have that much in common. But I do think that you can come to
terms with each other. You have several people in common, and
that means a lot." She took his hand in hers. "But first, you have
to own up to what you did, why you did it, and most importantly,
you have to _forgive_ yourself." She pulled his head down with
her free hand and kissed him gently on his lips. "And I think you're
just the man for that job," she sighed as she kissed him again.

"I've figured it out, Tara," he said, a little breathless when she
released him from the kiss. "You just love my body," he smiled and
hugged her hard as she laughed. "Come on. I want to see how my
brother-in-law is doing."

Tara smiled. It was the first time since the wedding that Bill had
called Mulder by anything other than his name or Dana's husband.
It was a pretty good first step.


=============================================================


After his talk with Tara, Bill wandered up to the floor where
Mulder's room was located. He didn't venture too close, just took
a chair in the hallway, around the corner, so that he could see the
door and the people who came and went. When he saw his sister
leave with the baby and the diaper bag, he knew he had an
opportunity.

Glancing quickly around him, he made his way to the door and
went inside. Bill was uncomfortable standing by the bedside and he
knew he didn't have much time. He only needed a minute, he just
needed to get some things off his chest.

Finally, he sat down in the chair next to the bed. He watched the
monitors surrounding the bed, the bags of fluid leading to the IV
line, the face of the clock above the bed--anything but the man
laying before him.

Bill knew everyone was angry with him, still. Now that he'd done
nothing to deserve it, at least not for quite some time, it was
starting to wear on his nerves. It wasn't his fault that Mulder was
still in danger. It wasn't anything he'd done, except make the
mistake of entering the room.

And here he was again. That was probably another mistake, but he
had to do something, he had to try and make it right.

Mulder was breathing shallowly. Bill knew he'd been sedated, the
doctor felt it was the only way to keep his blood pressure down.
Bill also knew, from overhearing Dana speak with his mother, that
Mulder was fighting the sedative. Just like the SOB to go and hurt
himself on top of everything else.

Bill caught himself in that thought and frowned. He had to stop
that. He had to stop thinking of Mulder in those terms. Tara was
right, they would never be drinking buddies. Bill had now sworn
off booze forever and he'd never seen Mulder touch the stuff aside
from the customary glass of champagne at his own wedding. But
they both had a few things in common.

They both loved the same two women.

Bill thought about that for a moment. He could see his own
selfishness, just as plainly as if it were a person sitting and staring
him in the face. He hadn't wanted to share his mother's love or his
sister's. How first grade could he get?

Mulder wasn't a bad guy, actually. He seemed a little stiff shirted
for Bill's tastes, but the guy came from money. He'd gone to
Oxford or Cambridge--one of those uppity colleges in England.
Bill was grateful he hadn't affected an English accent--that would
have really been the icing on the cake. But when all was said and
done, Mulder wasn't that much different than Bill himself.

"You're loyal, I'll give you that," Bill said to Mulder softly,
speaking just above a whisper. "Mom said you never left Dana's
side when she was in that coma years ago. Said you stayed with
her all night, when they thought--" Bill stopped, thinking back to
how close he'd been to losing his sister then and had been too far
away at sea to return to her side.

"And you were there for Mom when Missy died. Another time I
couldn't get back until it was too late," Bill mused outloud.

He sat there, breathing in rhythm with the man laying in the bed.
"You love her. I can see it in your face. Everytime you look at
her, it's like she's the only woman in the world for you. You
cherish my sister in a way that I know my father would have
wanted, would have demanded of any man who looked her way."

Bill swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I didn't know about
the . . . the other baby. I didn't know Dana miscarried. I guess
Mom mentioned it to Tara, but she forgot to tell me. We went
through that, you know, Tara and I. It's horrible. I can't
remember a worse feeling in the world than walking into a room
and seeing a crib that will remain empty, see a blanket that won't be
used--" No longer holding back, a sob escaped Bill's lips. "Oh,
God, Mulder, I'm sorry about that, too. I'm sorry you had to go
through that. That anyone would have to go through that, but
especially not my baby sister--and the man who loves her."

He sat there for a while, letting the tears soak his face, fall silently
on the collar of his shirt. Finally he wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

"You must really think I'm an ass, don't you? And you know what,
given your range of experience with me, I would have to agree with
your assessment. I've been a bully, a dolt, I can't even say, and all
that before the wedding."

"Remember the night of the rehearsal dinner? You were sick or
something, I remember you just needed to leave. And your boss,
Skinner, he was all set to take you home, but Mom, boy, she had
other ideas. That's so typical of her, you know. I remember when
we were kids, and I used to get into fights with Charlie--hey he was
younger, I know, but that little guy was a mean sucker--anyway,
she would make us do something 'together'. This one time, we had
to clean out the garage. I almost strangled the little brat! He kept
picking up the yard stuff--rakes and shovels and crap like that, and
he'd put them over his shoulder so they'd hit me in the back of the
head everytime he'd turn. He had this shit assed innocent look on
his face and then he'd giggle when my back was turned--"

"Well, that was why Mom wanted us to ride to Crystal City
together. I never wanted a ride to end more in my life. I couldn't
think of a damned thing to say to you. I didn't know anything
about you, except what Dana had told me over the years. Not all of
that was flattering, by the way. She used to call sometimes, and
she'd be so mad at you. You'd have gone off--ditched her, she
called it. One time, she was stuck in Alaska and she called ship to
shore--must have cost her a bundle. She sat there on the other end
of the line and cried for 15 minutes until the operator cut off the
call. That's all she did--just cried. Man, if I could have gotten
close to you that night--making her cry like that. Then I found out,
you were in a coma. They'd found you on the ice in the middle of
the Arctic--you were dead for all intents and purposes. I guess she
saved your life, from what Mom tells me."

"I guess, what I'm telling you is that you didn't deserve my hatred
all this time. That wasn't my place. And you sure didn't deserve
what Denny and Pat and I did to you. I always knew those assholes
would get me in trouble--well, maybe I got myself in this mess.
Blaming them won't do anybody any good. But what I'm really
trying to say is, you can't possibly hate me more than I hate myself
when I think of the other night. I don't ever want my kids to find
out their dad could do such a thing. I don't want Tara to remember
it, I don't want Mom to think of it. I sure don't want Dana to
remember it. Or you, for that matter. But it happened, and I don't
know how to get passed it."

"Dana says you're trained as a psychologist. I could have pegged
that one," Bill snorted. "But maybe, just maybe, that might come in
handy. I don't want this to tear the family apart, Mulder. I'm sorry
for what I did--you'll never know how sorry I am. I would like to
just close my eyes and then open them and all of this would have
been a bad nightmare. You know how that goes, don't you? When
something so bad happens that you just don't want to be awake
anymore? That's how I'm feeling right now. I just wish we could
all wake up and get on with our lives."

He sat in silence, waiting for Mulder to answer. When no answer
came, he wiped his eyes and left the room as quietly as he'd come
in. When Dana returned, she had no idea anyone had been there
while she was gone.

*****

Charlie had taken his mother and Karen home an hour or so ago.
Walter Skinner insisted upon waiting for Dana so that he might take
her and Adam back to Maggie's home for a few hours of sleep. He
reminded her that Mulder and the baby needed her healthy, and
staying awake round the clock was not the way to do that.

Dana looked up and saw that Walter had her coat in his arms.
"Let's go," he said. "Tara and Bill are going to stay for a while, in
case they need a family member nearby."

"Tara, " she paused and then added, "and _Bill_?" she echoed with
disgust.

"Yes, Tara and Bill. I wouldn't have permitted it if Tara wasn't here
too, so let's go. You've been here for hours and hours without a
break, and quite frankly you have this aura of sour milk about you
which is far from pleasant at this point," he teased gently.

"C'mon Scully," Skinner continued, "you need to lay down in a real
bed for a little while and renew your energy. That's not a request,
Dana. That's an order," he said in all seriousness.

"Yes, Sir. I didn't realize you still had jurisdiction over me even on
child rearing leave. I'm impressed," she said with a chuckle that
was sprinkled liberally with some sarcasm.

"Yes, well Scully, since you've had Adam, you are apparently now
very easily impressed," he returned in kind, but with a rare Skinner
smile.

"Are you insinuating I'm become 'soft', Sir?" she asked.

"When one smells constantly of sour milk rather than gun powder,
what do you think?" he retorted. "Now let's go. He's out cold,
Dana. He's not going anywhere, and the doctor did leave orders for
him to remain heavily sedated so that he would get some sleep
tonight. Here's your coat. Put it on," he ordered.

She complied, and once her coat was buttoned and tied in place,
Dana leaned over her sleeping husband and said, "You're on the
really, _really_ good stuff tonight, Mulder. There's no way you
should be waking up using this stuff," she assured. "Sweet Dreams,
Fox Mulder."

Somehow, the phrase, "sweet dreams" and "Fox Mulder" rarely
seemed to go together. Tonight was no exception. And the fact
that Mulder was indeed, on the 'good' stuff, made this night even
more of a horror story, because there was no escape to
wakefullness.

It started out innocently enough. He found himself inside his
parent's home, where he and Sam used to live too. Only Sam
wasn't there. Her room was too perfectly clean, with every book in
their proper spot. He could pick out the place where she kept her
coveted Fox in Sox Dr. Seuss book.

Fox opened her clothes closet and saw it was empty but for one red
velvet dress with an ivory lace collar and a velvet sash that went
around the waist. That was the dress she was supposed to wear to
his Bar Mitzvah, at least he thought that's what it was, since she'd
described her dream dress to him often enough.

But he'd been forced to stop his Bar Mitzvah lessons, because Sam
was no longer there. His family didn't feel it was appropriate to
prepare for a celebration when their only daughter, their baby girl,
was missing. Fox could still sense her presence though. He could
still smell her scent. He could still picture her as she brushed her
hair a hundred times, and then tied her waist length hair in an
elastic.

It scared him a little that he was seeing her so clearly, but he missed
her so much that he overlooked the fear just to be with her. But
she wasn't really there. But he was. He and his ever present bottle
of Johnnie Walker Black. Not Johnnie Walker Red. It had to be
the Black label. And Fox could smell his father's essence too. The
essence of alcohol. The essence of his father's bitterness and fear.

Mulder was also afraid. He tasted the sourness of his bile in his
throat. He knew he would be punished for going into her room. He
knew he would be severely punished for opening the closet door.
He also knew his mother would go into her bedroom and close the
door. She'd lock it. She'd then turn on the radio and turn the
volume up so high. So very high. To drown out the frightened
screams in the night.

He looked up and saw his father's ever changing facade of emotions
being displayed on his face. "What are you doing in here?" he
would seethe each and every time he'd walk in on Mulder in the
little room. And each and every time, Fox would stand mutely,
because he had learned over time that no answer would satisfy him.
None. So he stood his ground and waited for the inevitable to
begin.

The older man, the stronger man, would raise his hand up high and
as gravity pulled it down, the palm transformed into a fist that
would find its desired location. The drink his father usually carried
would inevitably find its mark on Fox's face or clothes, so the
stench of the alcohol permeated everything.

When the fist connected with his cheek, or his jaw, or his nose, the
father would continue his expression of hate for the child that was
left behind. He was clever though, for he rarely marked his face
more than once or twice in a row. It was much easier to conceal
his anger from the public by connecting with his shoulders, and his
chest, and his stomach, and his back, and his buttocks, and his
genitals, and his thighs, and his knee caps, and his mind.

Fox felt the shock of the pain as it crossed from one side of his head
to the other. He remembered a time when his father's frustration
got even the best of him and he made a rare error in judgment.
After the senior Mulder had knocked the boy down, the father
pointed his toe and began to poke and jab him with it. Then as the
hostility raged within him, Bill Mulder began to poke and jab harder
until he was kicking and stomping his son's head and torso and the
child's blood began to splatter with each additional strike.

The child smelled the Johnnie Walker Black, and felt the dampness
of his father's drink mingle with the wetness of his own blood and
urine. Fox brought his hands across his chest and curled is body up
in a futile attempt to protect himself.

And still he remained silent. The appeals of a very small child soon
gave way to mute pleas of forgiveness, for it was the child who
always begged to be exonerated and not the father. Fox, over time,
learned to accept the fault and the blame for his sister's
disappearance as well as his mother's erratic behavior and his
father's need, yes need, for alcohol. It was always to be the child's
fault.

Fox deserved to feel the pain. Fox deserved to feel the guilt. Fox
deserved to be abused by his father, by his father, by hisfather,
byhisfather! He tried to call out and stop his father, but he couldn't
escape the dreams.

He couldn't escape the good stuff.


============================================================


Tara was quietly sitting next to her husband in Mulder's hospital
room. She was trying to read a magazine, but since it was one
she'd already read on the red eye flight she'd taken only last night, it
was difficult to find something interesting to read.

Bill's head jerked up from the odd angle it had been hanging in
while he caught a much needed 40 winks.

"Bill?" Tara asked. "What?"

"I dunno, something's not right," he replied in a husky, sleepy voice.

"What do you mean, sweetheart? What's the something related
to?" she continued to probe.

"Mulder. Something's wrong with Mulder," he stated and then
began repeating himself over and over.

"Bill, what about Mulder? What's wrong with Mulder?" Tara
implored. "Please, sweetheart!"

"The monitor isn't on. Why isn't the monitor on? Tara buzz the
nurse's station. Please." As Tara pressed the call button, Bill stood
up and walked over to Mulder's side. He grasped his good hand
and squeezed it. Somehow, he had to let Mulder know someone
was there for him. He wasn't sure why he knew this or if any of it
would work, but Bill instinctively knew Mulder needed help in
getting grounded back into wakefulness, and he wasn't sure if he
was the man for the job.

As the nurse came bounding in, Bill could feel the fear building up
inside him as if he was able to feel Mulder's terror as his own.

"You'll have to move," the nurse said firmly.

"No," Bill responded in kind.

"Excuse me? I have to ask you to leave so I can check on the
patient," she insisted.

"And I said, no. I can't leave him right now. Look," he said in an
exasperated tone, "I don't understand this any better than you, but I
just know I can't leave him at the moment.

"He's in trouble. The monitor malfunctioned for some damned
stupid reason, but his BP skyrocketed again, didn't it?" Bill asked.

As she finished taking the blood pressure measurement manually,
the nurse looked up at him with wide eyes. "My God, how did you
know? He's at 210/120. If we didn't know, and it didn't lower,
he__," she hesitated as she was both overwhelmed by the
circumstances and the possible ramifications had Bill Scully not
been there.

So Bill finished her thought for her. "__could have had a stroke or
died," he said in an emotional whisper.

"I need to page the doctor. I'll be right back," the nurse informed.

As there was no phone operating in Mulder's room yet, Tara said
she'd go to the pay phone and call Dana at the house, as well as
Charlie and Karen at the motel. She assumed Mr. Skinner was at
the Scully house as well.

So now it was Mulder and Bill, together again, alone at last. Bill
was more frightened now than he'd ever recalled being before.
Somehow he knew that Mulder needed to wake up, but he wasn't
sure why that was or how that could be accomplished. He'd
apparently been drugged to the hilt in the attempt to prevent any
stressful situations.

"Oh God, he's dreaming," Bill gasped aloud. "He's dreaming and he
can't wake up from it."

"Excuse me? Did you say something?" asked the young intern as
he entered with the nurse.

"You gotta get him to wake up. Do something, please. You gotta
get him out of it, now," Bill pleaded.

"Sir, I truly do not know what you're talking about," the doctor
rebutted. He picked up Mulder's chart and gave it a perfunctory
glance and said, " It's apparent that Mr. Mulder is being kept
heavily sedated to prevent any further hypertension episodes."

"But it didn't work, did it?" Bill said pointedly. "He just had a very
severe episode and he's been drugged to the hilt. I'm telling you,
you've got to bring him out of it."

"Look, Mr.__?" the doctor paused in question.

"__Scully, Bill Scully__," he started.

"__Wait a minute, aren't you the guy who put him in here in the
first place? I heard the nurses talking about you. Why the hell
aren't you still in jail?" he asked arrogantly.

"I'm here because my brother-in-law chose not to press charges, not
that it's any of your business. Look, we're wasting time here. I'm
telling you, he's got to be woken up. I want another doctor in here.
Now," demanded Bill.

"Look, I'm the guy on call, so you're going to have to deal with
me," the intern replied.

"I want to speak with the resident on duty," Bill countered.

"Oh c'mon. Give me a break. I'm going to administer more drugs
and that's final. Now get out of my way so I can get to the IV bag,"
he insisted.

"And I said no. Get the resident on duty out here now,"
commanded Bill Scully.

"Shit. He's gonna kill me for this," moaned the intern.

"I don't give a fuck what he does to you, it's Mulder here I'm
worried about. Now leave me alone and go get the resident, oh,
and fix the God damned monitor! I can't be fucking psychic all of
the time!" he shouted.

After fiddling with the monitor and apparently getting it working
again, both the intern and nurse left the room. The intern went in
search of his sleeping superior, and the nurse rushed back to the
main desk where others awaited the latest gossip about the injured,
but handsome, FBI agent and his devoted, but somewhat volatile
family.

"Mulder, listen, we only got a few minutes before the cavalry is
brought in, so c'mon buddy, come on out of this. You can do this.
I'm right here for you. Do you feel my hand, Mulder? I got you,
bro. I got you."

Bill waited for any kind of a sign that he was going to come out of
the night terror. He listened intensely for the monitors to give him
some kind of signal that all will be well, but they just kept singing
their same damn song of dire troubles.

"Mulder, come back to me, man. What you're dreamin' is the make
believe. It's not fucking real any more. It may have been real at
one time, but not anymore. C'mon, Mulder, get your ass back to
reality. Please," he implored.

Bill looked up at the monitors and saw that the beeps were slowing
down ever, ever so slightly. He next saw his wife walk through the
door.

"I had phoned the motel to call Charlie but no one answered, so I
phoned your mother's house next. Karen answered and said
everyone was over there. She told me Charlie hadn't wanted to
leave Dana, so he and Karen went to your mom's to wait for Dana
and Mr. Skinner to return from the hospital."

"That's my baby brother, for you, only he's not such a baby
anymore, is he?" Bill asked rhetorically. He then asked what Karen
had said.

"Karen said it seemed like they'd only just sat down to catch their
breaths when I phoned with the news that Mulder was in another
crisis. Damn it, Bill. Why can't this family catch a break?" Tara
asked.

"I don't know, Tara. I wanted to blame him, but I know it's not
anyone's fault. Certainly not his."

"Tara, he's in trouble, and they're going to screw it up. I hope Dana
gets here soon. She'll know what to do. She'll know how to
explain it to the doctors," he seemingly babbled.

Tara was just about to ask what in heaven's name he was talking
about, when a couple of doctors and the floor nurse walked in. She
noted the troubled expression that now graced her husband's face as
they entered the room.

"Mr. Scully, why did my intern have to wake me from the first
sound sleep I'd entered into in the last 36 hours? Would you mind
telling me that? Why won't you allow him to continue with a well
established course of treatment for this patient so we don't have to
give the ICU any more business tonight?" he demanded.

"Because the established course of treatment might kill him right
now, that's why," Bill responded, all the while maintaining his firm,
clasp on Mulder's hand. He was unconsciously patting and rubbing
Mulder's arm with his other hand as well.

"And you received your medical degree from what university, Sir?"
the resident asked.

"Look, do me a favor, my sister, umm, Mulder's wife, will be here
any minute. She _is_ a doctor. Please don't do anything further
until Dana gets here. Please. She's coming from a very short
distance away, and then you can talk in all the medicalese you want.
But for now, I'm not going to let you near him," he stated
adamantly.

"You know what? Fine. I'm not gonna argue with you cause from
what I hear, people who disagree with you end up in the ICU, so
fuck it! When your sister gets here, have someone page me. Until
then, I'm going back to sleep," he ranted, and then turned to leave.

The nurse and intern followed him out the door. Tara, sensing that
her husband wanted some time with Mulder alone, said she was
going to keep a look out for Dana and the rest of the family. When
the door closed behind her, Bill began to speak to Mulder again.

"Mulder, living in the past apparently sucks for you. C'mon bro,
you gotta start thinkin' about the future. About your life with
Dana. She's a helluva a looker, isn't she, Mulder? I mean, I know
she's my baby sister, but hell, I'm not blind. And as time passes, she
somehow gets more beautiful.

"Maybe that's because of you, Mulder. Maybe loving you just
makes her more beautiful. And man, if she's gotten this gorgeous
from loving you, I can't wait to see what happens from loving
Adam.

"Adam. Believe it or not, Mulder, with all of this shit I'd put you
and Dana through, I'd forgotten about being an uncle again. He's a
gorgeous kid, Mulder. He looks like you, except, thank God, he's
got the Scully nose.

"Nothing personal, Mulder, and believe me this has nothing to do
with you being Jewish or anything. "It's just that the Scully nose
looks good on your kid's face. It goes well with the Mulder mouth
and eyes. Yeah, he's one beautiful baby, Mulder.

"You got yourself one fine looking family, Fox Mulder. Oh, sorry.
I know you don't like being called Fox. I didn't mean anything by
it. And I never would have razzed you about your name had I
known the origin of it in the first place. I may be, unwittingly, an
insensitive clod, but never knowingly. Really.

"I mean, I think it's kind of cool that your great grandfather's name
was Fox. And I think naming someone to keep a name alive makes
a lot more sense than what we do. I mean, we name a kid to honor
someone while they're alive, which is great for the honoree, but it
can be hell on the kid who has to live up to that name.

"Mulder, do you have any idea how hard it was for me to be
William Scully, Jr.? It was a bitch trying to always be as good as
my namesake. Man, I tried, but somehow I always came up short.
Every time Dad went back out to sea, he'd tell me that I was the
man of the house. Could imagine? I was a fucking kid, for crying
out loud. I didn't want to be no freakin' man of the house. But
that's what was expected of me, and I couldn't let Dad down. I
mean, after all, I was William Scully, Jr.

"But trying to be responsible for your sisters and brother can really
suck, Mulder. It's a burden I don't ever intend to put on my kids.
I'm getting out when I hit twenty years, Mulder. It's time for the
ship to sail home, you know? I want to get to know my family, my
wife, my kids. Yeah, and my brother and sister and their spouses.
And their kids.

"Yeah, even you, Mulder. I think I want to get to know you,
Mulder. I mean, I know you're real, real smart. Shit, I've heard
you talk about things using words I'd never be able to pronounce
without help, much less define their meaning. So, ya see, I know
you're smarter than me. I know that, but I like listening to you talk.
You're interesting, man. And maybe you could teach me a thing or
two. And maybe I could teach you how to do something I'm good
at. Maybe someday I could teach you how to sail, okay?"

As he spoke on and on, in soothing, rhythmical tones, Bill Scully
continued to hold onto Mulder's hand for dear life and gently
stroked his arm.

"Oh listen, Mulder, I have something I wanted to run by you. I
figure if _I_ asked Dana she'd say no, just because it came from
me. But if _you_ mention it, well I figure it's as good as gold.

"It's about Adam's Godfather. Now, I'm not so dumb as to not
realize I kinda abdicated my role in that department. I mean, as
much as I really do want to be my nephew's Godfather, I realize
that it wouldn't be possible right now. Maybe, if I can prove myself
to you and Dana, maybe the next one, okay Mulder?

"But I was wondering if you could put a good word in for Charlie.
He's amazing Mulder. I mean, he's been at Dana's side and he's
stood up to me and for me, and he even seems to get along with
your boss, Mr. Skinner. He's good people, Mulder. He would
make a damned fine role model for your Adam. So, would you ask
Dana if she wouldn't mind giving the honor to Charlie. He deserves
it, Mulder. I'm so proud of him. I'm so proud he's my brother."

"Yeah, I'll ask her," said the hoarse voice.

"Mulder? How you doing, man?" Bill asked softly.

"Okay. But thirsty. Water, please."

Bill thought Mulder would have let go of his hand in order for Bill
to more easily reach the water glass, but he didn't. In fact, he
grasped on even more tightly.

Bill held the glass for Mulder while he sipped the liquid through the
red striped straw. Mulder murmured his thanks when he'd had
enough, and relaxed back into the pillow.

"How are my numbers, Bill?" he asked, referring to the blood
pressure monitor.

"I think they look better, if I'm reading it correctly," Bill replied.

"I'm sure you're reading it just fine. You manage to read nautical
charts and instruments, don't you?" Mulder asked slowly.

"Well sure, it's what I do, Mulder," he responded.

"Well, I sure as hell don't know how to interpret those instruments
or charts. And I certainly don't know how to sail. No one ever
bothered to teach me, but then again, I never liked the water all that
much. Seasick. All the time, every time," Mulder recalled.

"Well, there's some pretty good medication on the market that can
take care of seasickness," Bill replied.

"Good, I'll pick some up on the day you teach me how to sail," said
Mulder.

"Sail?" Bill's mouth gaped open all the while he thought to himself,
*Shit!*

"Mulder, how much of my rambling did you hear?" Bill finally
asked , somewhat aghast at how much he'd revealed of himself to
this man.

"Enough to know that we're more alike than either one of us might
have believed." Mulder looked away for a moment, but then met
the gaze of his red haired brother-in-law.

"I know how hard it is to live up to someone else's expectations,"
he began with a hitch in his voice. "The only difference between us
is that your role model would go away, himself. Mine tried to
make me go away, in any manner possible. Both of us were damned
if we did, and damned if we didn't."

"Yeah, but I think you were always in the more dangerous place,
weren't you, Mulder?" Bill asked. "You were in that dangerous
place just before, when you couldn't wake up on your own, right?"

Mulder could only nod at this point, the memories that his
nightmares dredged up were often as painful as the reality was.
The tears started to flow when he realized in what a dark place he
had been, and how close he was at not climbing out of it.

He held onto Bill Scully's hand tightly and tried to shift his body at
the same time. Bill realized what he was trying to do, so he helped
him up with his other hand. He pulled Mulder up as gently as he
could, and then did something he'd never imagined himself doing.

Bill Scully reached over to take Fox Mulder in an embrace. As they
maintained their grasp around one another, all Bill could do was
murmur, over and over again, "I'm sorry, Fox. I'm so sorry."


===========================================================


As Dana ran down the corridor once again, with the rest of her
family trailing her, she envisioned the madhouse that must be
ensuing inside her husband's hospital room. Yet another episode!
He was so heavily sedated, she didn't understand how it could have
been possible. She could imagine hearing the monitors beeping
and whistling as well as the frantic words of the doctor's orders
being carried out.

And Dana also visualized her brother, standing around looking
helpless, yet she knew he was more than likely responsible for this
episode. He had to be. There was no other possibility, was there?

So imagine her surprise when she opened the door and, having
expected to find pandemonium, only found her brother, her hard
assed, selfish, moronic, evil brother, tenderly holding her beaten
down husband in a most warm and compassionate embrace. The
murmurs of an apologetic, "I'm sorry" filled the air, and Dana
looked on in both relief and disbelief.

Dana stood there a moment, confusion flooding her, then relief.
She could see the monitor clearly, and it showed a relatively normal
135 over 90. Higher than Mulder usually maintained, but pretty
damned good for the last couple of days. Tears born of that relief
and the sight in front of her, trickled down her cheeks.

"I really do hate to interrupt," she said softly from the doorway.
Bill jerked up, almost tugging an IV line as he did so. Mulder ran a
hand over his face, wiping it dry.

"Hi, G-Woman," he said casually, but his rough throat gave him
away.

"Dana," Bill chimed in self-consciously. "I was, uh, just trying to
help Mulder . . . he wanted to sit up a little straighter," he
stammered. "I better go find Tara," he announced and made
quickly for the door.

Dana caught his sleeve before he got all the way to the safety of the
hallway. "I want to talk to you. Let me check him out first. Don't
go anywhere," she ordered, but it held none of her early rancor.

"I'll just be down the hall," Bill replied and made a weak attempt of
a wave to his brother-in-law.

"See you later, Bill," Mulder said with a nod and leaned back into
the pillows.

Dana came into the room, arms crossing her chest. Mulder smiled
at her and pointed to the monitor. "See, Sweetheart. It's well
within normal range. Nothing to worry about."

"Is that so?" she said, pursing her lips and regarding him coolly.
"What happened?" It wasn't a question, it was an order.

Mulder shrugged. "You tell me. I was asleep," he answered, and
began inspecting the lint on his white cotton blanket.

"I left with Skinner to go get a little sleep at Mom's. We left Tara
and Bill in the room with you. Next thing I know, Tara's calling us
back to the hospital due to the fact that you are in a crisis and my
'brother' is refusing to let the doctors sedate you further because he
says you can't get out of a dream. He wouldn't let go of your
hand, if what the nurses tell me is accurate." She was leveling her
best glare at him and he had little choice but to give her his account.

He chanced a look at her eyes and winced, then dropped his own
gaze to the blanket again. "I had a nightmare. Those drugs, Dane,
I don't know what they were, but don't give me that shit again! I
have the worst nightmares on that stuff--it is not conducive to a
good night's rest," he exclaimed emphatically.

"The nightmare, Mulder. You're getting off topic," she growled.

"Yeah, the nightmare," he winced again. "It was a repeat. One of
the bad ones. Remember, I told you about--"

"Your dad?" she finished for him. He nodded, not trusting himself
to say the words. "And the drugs kept you under," she added,
coming to the realization of what he'd just gone through. She sat
down heavily and took his hand, her eyes welling up with tears.
"Oh, Sweetheart, I'm so sorry--"

"It was like drowning, Dane. I swear to God that's exactly what it
felt like. And then, all of a sudden, I felt something in my hand.
And I realized it was a person, someone holding me. At first I
thought it was you, and I hung on for dear life. Then I realized it
was too big to be your hand, and too rough. It was about then that
I heard his voice. It was Bill. He stood here and talked me out of
the dream. He brought me back. I don't know anything about the
doctors and more drugs, but I promise you, Dane, if they'd given
me more of that stuff, I'd be dead now. I never would have been
able to break the dream and I would have died." He saw her flinch
at the sound of those words. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart, but it's true.
The good part is, it didn't come to that. Bill wouldn't let them near
me."

"And the hug?" she asked, tears now streaking down her face.

"Let's just say we figured out we have a lot more in common than
either of us knew," Mulder said cryptically. "He's not a bad guy,
Dane. He's a big brother. It's a shitty job at times. Sometimes it
can take up your whole life," he said softly, his eyes distant. After a
second he looked back at her. "He loves you, Dane. And he's
hurting now. You need to talk to him."

"I think you're right," she admitted.

"And I think we should consider someone for Godfather--" he held
up his hand at her immediate reaction. "I'm not suggesting Bill. I
don't think he's ready for it, yet. Not with Adam, anyway."

"Then who?" she asked, chewing her lip.

"Charlie. Think about it, Dane. This guy who everyone talks about
like he's some punk teenager has really stepped into some big shoes
these last few days. If what Bill told me is correct, he's been a big
support to you, Mom, and he even took Bill on. He's been the kind
of man I'd like our son to grow up to be. I think he'd make an
excellent Godfather."

Dana choked a little on her tears, but she was smiling broadly. "I
think you might have a good idea there, Sweetheart. My baby
brother has done me proud through this. And I would be more than
happy to ask him."

"Maybe we can ask him together, a little later. After your talk with
Bill," Mulder said, gently reminding her of her earlier promise.

"I suppose I'm going to get a bill for 'family counseling', huh?" she
joked, wiping her eyes.

"I work free for members of my own family," he teased in return.

"Are you sure you're OK?" she asked, the concern and worry still
dancing in her eyes.

"I'm sure. I'm tired, really. I think I can sleep a little now--without
the dramatic rescue scenes," he added with a wink. "Go on. And
when you finish talking to Bill, go get some sleep. That is an order
from your partner, your superior and your husband."

"That's three orders, then" she shot back.

"And I expect _all_ of them to be followed," he replied and took
her hand into a kiss. "Goodnight, sun."

"Goodnight, moon," she said and kissed him tenderly on the lips.
He was asleep before she lifted her mouth from his.

She found Bill and Tara and the rest of the clan, including AD
Skinner, sitting in the lounge area. No one was talking, everyone
looked up expectantly as she entered the room. She walked over to
her mother and lifted Adam into her arms.

Karen couldn't take the suspense. "Dana, how is he?" she pleaded.
"How is Mulder doing?"

Dana smiled, rocking the baby. "He's doing better. Much better,
really. His BP is back to normal, or as close to it as we can hope
for right now. He's back asleep," she explained and didn't miss the
worried look that came to her older brother's face. "But I think he
won't be bothered by any nightmares this time. And I'm making
sure he isn't given that particular sedative again. I think he's
sensitive to it."

"Damn straight," Bill muttered, which earned him confused stares
from all present except Dana, who tried her best not to smile.

"I think the rest of you can go on back to Mom's. I want to talk to
the doctor for a minute and then I'll be along, too," Dana told
everyone.

"I'll stick around, give you a lift to your Mom's," Skinner said,
leaning back in his seat.

Dana looked over at him and then at her brother. "If you don't
mind, sir, I think I'll have Bill give us a ride back. But maybe you
could give Tara a ride? That is, if you don't mind going back now,
Tara?"

Tara shot a look to Bill, who shrugged. "That's fine by me, Dana.
Mr. Skinner, if you don't mind--"

Skinner looked hard at Dana, searching her face for any sign of
distress. Finding only her usual calm expression, he squared his
shoulders and stood up. "I'd be happy to give you a ride, Tara."

Maggie hadn't missed a second of this little drama and smiled
inwardly. "Sweetheart, let me take Adam with me. He's asleep,
and I can put him in his crib so he can stretch out. Poor little guy,
he's been sleeping in this car seat for two days now. He's probably
thinking he's regressed to his mommy's tummy," she chuckled and
took possession of the baby, putting him in his infant seat and
buckling him in.

"Thanks, Mom," Dana said, giving her son a gentle kiss on the
head. "Love you, little one," she whispered.

In a minute, everyone had gone and brother and sister faced each
other.

"You wanted to talk to the doctor," Bill reminded her.

"Yes, I just wanted to ensure Fox doesn't get that sedative again,"
she said, nodding. "Want to walk down there with me?" she asked
shyly.

"Sure," he said, toeing the tile floor for a moment. He seemed
inordinately interested in the flooring pattern all of a sudden.

They walked down to the nurses station and were able to track
down the intern. Dana made sure that the sedative they had been
administering was replaced with pain killers which Mulder had been
given before without incident. Once that was accomplished, and
after giving the nurse instructions on how to be reached, they
started toward the door.

"Wait," Bill said, as they walked past the door leading to the
courtyard. "Hey, wanta take a walk?"

It was Dana's turn to feel awkward. "Bill, I should get back to
Adam--"

"C'mon, Dana. Just a few minutes. Mom can handle the baby.
Besides, between Auntie Karen and Auntie Tara, he's gonna be
spoiled beyond recognition. Just a minute, OK?"

Silently, she followed him out into the spring night. There was a
street light shining, lighting the path to the park bench he and Tara
had found earlier in the day.

"It's so peaceful here," Bill sighed, sitting down on the park bench.

Dana ran her hand over the smooth wood, thinking back to other
park benches, other talks. Not with her brother, but with her
beloved.

"Yeah, it is," she agreed. It took her a moment to gather her
thoughts, but without sitting down, she spoke. "Bill--what you did
tonight--"

"I know, Dana, I know. I'm not a doctor. But I swear, I could feel
him--he was struggling so hard to come out of that dream! And
those damned drugs--they were pulling him back into it. I couldn't
let that happen. I couldn't. I'm sorry, and if I put him in danger by
doing it--"

"You saved his life," Dana said just loud enough for him to hear her
over his own voice.

Bill stopped and stared at her. "I what?"

"You. Saved. His. Life." she stated, clearly, slowly and evenly.
"You saved his life, Billy," she said again, tears in her eyes.

"Dana, I just--"

"I know what you did."

"I'm the one who put him here," Bill objected vehemently, his own
throat tight with emotion.

"I know that, too," she replied.

"I'm . . . Oh God, Dana, I'm so . . . sorry," he gasped out,
struggling not to cry.

Dana had no such compunction and ignored the tears streaking
down her own cheeks. "I know that now, too."

"I was jealous."

"I could tell," she replied.

"I was selfish and self-centered, and arrogant and a bastard--"

"Stop right there, Bill Scully," she growled. "You might be those
other things, but you are not a bastard. You are William Scully,
son of William Scully. And don't you ever forget that," she
ordered.

"Dad would be so ashamed of--"

She held up her hand to cut him off. "Let's not go into what Dad
might or might not be." She sat down beside him, but stared
straight ahead into the night. "I'm still angry with you. I'm not
sorry about it, either. What you did was horrible and it's going to
take a long time for me to get over it."

"I know that," he said, his voice filled with regret. "If I could take
all this away, I would."

"You can't. No one can. We just have to move passed it."

"How?" he asked, and she looked at him, because for the first time
in years, he sounded like a little boy. Like he did when they were
both children.

"Well, what you did tonight sure will go a long way. Mulder seems
to think--and this is a direct quote-- 'he's not a bad guy'," she said,
venturing a smile.

"He said that?" Bill asked, incredulous.

"Yes, he did. When he told me that I needed to talk to you. That
you were hurting and I needed to talk to you."

"He knew I was hurting?" Bill repeated, still not quite believing her
words. "How could he have known--"

"How did you know he needed you when he couldn't break out of
that nightmare?" she asked simply. He made no attempt to answer.
"He's just 'spooky' that way," she said with a short laugh.

"He's a good man, Dana. You could have done a whole lot
worse," Bill said seriously.

Dana smiled. "I know. I could have married someone like you,"
she said in perfect deadpan.

"Touche," he replied.

"Two years of French in high school and you still know the
language. I suppose that's intended to impress me," she retorted.

He smiled. "Admit it, you are impressed."

"C'mon, we need to get back," she said, avoiding his eyes. Still, in
the darkness he could see her smile.

"By the way, we're asking Charlie and Karen to be the
Godparents," she said, holding the door for him.

"I think that's an excellent choice, little sister," Bill said
affectionately.

St. Anthony's Medical Center
The Chapel
two days later

Mulder ranted, raved, wheedled and attempted to bribe the doctors
to let him out earlier. They were completely inured to his pleas. As
a result, the godparents were set to become 'godparents by proxy'
until Adam's grandmother hit upon a plan.

"I had this in mind before the wedding, just in case, but as luck
would have it, we didn't need to bother," Maggie confided in Dana.
"Besides, the Chapel really is pretty."

Dana had to agree. She had ordered a bouquet of flowers for the
altar, but both sets of aunts and uncles provided flowers, as did the
baby's other set of 'godparents', Skinner and Ellen. "There's as
many flowers as we had at the wedding," Dana remarked. "Well, I
better go collect the men of the family," she added and headed out
the door.

"I look like Vincent Price," Mulder was whining as she neared his
room.

"Not at all, Mulder," Charlie was trying to be persuasive and trying
not to laugh and was failing miserably at both. "You look, ah,
distinquished."

"It's a damned smoking jacket, Charlie," Mulder growled. "It
looks stupid."

"It's better than the hospital gown underneath," his wife interjected.
"Besides, this is Adam's day. You're just window dressing," she
said, leaning over to give him a kiss as he sat in the wheelchair next
to his bed.

"We couldn't have waited a week?" he asked plaintively. "I could
be out of here and healed in a week."

"Sorry, 'other bro'," Charlie said with a shrug. "In another week,
I'm halfway to the South China Sea."

Dana rolled her eyes and reached for their son in his car seat. "Are
you ready, big guy?" she asked in hushed tones. "This won't hurt,
but the water is a little cold," she warned him.

"Father Donovan told me they put ice cubes in the water," Mulder
whispered to his son.

"You know, Mulder, it's customary to recommit to your Baptism
vows when you're older. I should ask Rabbi Gerry if the same is
true of a Bris," Dana said, eyes narrowed wickedly.

Both Charlie and Mulder choked and crossed their legs. "Do not
go there, G-woman," Mulder warned.

Karen rushed in the door, carrying a big gift bag. "Sorry, I know
I'm late. I just wanted to pick up a little something for my favorite
guy," she smiled broadly.

"Sweetheart, you shouldn't have," Charlie objected.

She shot him a glare. "Stand in line, Sailor boy," she told him and
took the car seat away from Dana. "Come on with Aunt Karen.
We'll get this shindig going and then it's time to par-tay!"

"We're gonna end up with a Playboy--two parties in less than two
months," Dana whispered in Mulder's ear.

"Wait till we hit December," he shot back, with a decided gleam in
his eyes.

The tiny chapel was almost filled to overflowing. In addition to the
parents and godparents, little Adam's maternal grandmother, other
aunt and uncle, and his Jewish godfather, there were the Goldfarbs,
with Rachel and Jason and a good number of the staff from the ICU
and Mulder's current floor of residence were in attendence. Father
Donovan was joking that if anyone else walked through the door,
they'd need a shoehorn.

"How are you doing?" Dana asked her husband quietly.

"A little nervous," he admitted.

"I know. I felt the same way at the Bris," she smiled. "But it's all
over in a little while." She reached down and grabbed his hand
tightly in her own. "I love you," she told him sincerely.

"I love you," he responded, kissing her hand.

"I think we can begin," Father Donovan announced and Karen
came forward with Charlie, holding Adam gently in her arms.
Father Donovan looked at Dana and Fox. "Dana and Fox, what do
you ask of the Church?"

Mulder looked at his wife, seeing the happiness in her eyes. More
than anything else, he had what he wanted for his child. A family
who loved him, friends who would help him. It was all here, in this
room. But he knew there was something more that would mean so
much to his wife. They shared a smile and looked back to the
priest.

"Baptism."

the end.

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