*****************************************************************************
This author's email address has changed to: slash_evidence@ameritech.net
*****************************************************************************
From: Vampyres Incorporeal <vii@NOSPAM.netdirect.net>
Date: Wed, 06 May 1998 21:24:56 GMT
Subject: NEW: Forward Slash Segue: Litany and Requiem (1/4)
Title: Forward Slash Segue: Litany and Requiem
(1/4)
Author: Saundra Mitchell
E-Mail: vii@netdirect.net
Feedback: Please!
Archive: Yes
Category: S/CRA (Mulder/Other)
11 Cents Category: NA
Rating: R (Adult situations, violence)
Summary: Tragedy brings Mulder to reconsider his
actions.
Spoilers: The X Files: "Emily", "Christmas Carol",
"Redux", "Redux II" Homicide: "Closet Cases",
"Secrets", "Partners and Other Strangers"
Original Posting: alt.tv.x-files.creative, X-Files
Fanfic List, 11 Cents
Do NOT post to alt.tv.x-files.creative
Archive: Yes
Keywords: Mulder, Scully, Bayliss, Pembleton,
Baltimore, romance, slash, Homicide, angst.
Disclaimer: Scully, Mulder and "The X-Files" are
copyrighted by 1013 Productions. The cast of
"Homicide: Life on the Street" including Bayliss,
Pembleton, et al, are copyrighted by Baltimore
Pictures. "Forward Slash" and "Litany and Requiem"
are copyright 1998, Saundra Mitchell. All rights
reserved by the respective companies and author.
**Note: This is dedicated to all of the people who
wanted to murder me for ending "Worst Case
Scenario" the way I did. This vignette is a short
segue between the "Forward Slash" trilogy, and
whatever may follow. My storyline has diverged
from the current official storylines of both
"Homicide" and "The X Files" at this point.
Washington, D.C.
Scully hesitated before tapping on Mulder's
door. Since his suspension nearly two weeks before,
he hadn't returned any of her phone calls or e-mail.
The last time she'd dropped by his apartment, he
wasn't there or he had refused to answer the door.
However, this time she'd parked right next to his
car, so he had to be home. With a deep breath, she
knocked. There was movement inside the apartment,
and she heard the chain being unlatched.
"I'm not home," Mulder said as he opened
the door.
Baltimore
"I hate this," Bayliss complained, trying to
wipe spilled coffee from his pants with his hand.
Irritated, he threw his paper cup out of the window.
"And I hate cold coffee."
"What's the matter with you, Bayliss?" Frank
stared at Tim as his partner continued to scrub at the
coffee stain. "You haven't been right for weeks
now."
Tim frowned. "It's the coffee, Frank. It's
the
cold damned coffee, and sitting in this cold car all
night, waiting for some brain dead punk to wander
out on the street in the vague chance we can get him
to cop to a gang shooting. How can you be so calm?
Don't you feel your life slipping away?"
"We've only been here an hour," Pembleton
answered evenly.
"An hour we'll never have back. I could be
at
home, drinking a beer and watching 'The Pretender',
but instead, I'm sitting here. With you."
Frank raised an eyebrow. "You watch 'The
Pretender'?"
"It was just an example."
"And what's so bad about sitting here with
me?"
"You leave the lid off the thermos and let
the
coffee get cold, and you do it on purpose."
"You're right, it's a plot. I turn the cap
ever
so slightly to allow the heat an opportunity to
escape, just because I enjoy listening to you whine."
"I knew it."
"Glad to put your mind at ease."
Washington, D.C.
Perching uncomfortably on the arm of the
couch, Scully nodded when Mulder offered her a
glass of wine. He looked terrible, she decided. He
hadn't shaved in days, and his short and T-shirt
ensemble was only questionably clean. Books were
scattered everywhere, some of them standing on
their faces like steeples, monuments to the fact that
he hadn't finished them. The red light on his
answering machine blinked furiously.
Winding his way through the literary debris,
Mulder handed her a glass, then swiped the rumpled
clothing off the couch so she could sit properly.
Taking a seat of his own, he leaned back and closed
his eyes. "You just couldn't stay away from me, huh?
I've always had that effect on women."
Scully rolled her eyes, sliding down onto
the
couch. "I've been worried, Mulder."
"This is almost like a vacation," he replied,
swirling his wine glass. "You should try it
sometime."
"I didn't even know you were leaving
Baltimore. I stopped by Tim's house to find you."
Mulder furrowed his brows. "I'm sorry."
"Then I get back, and find you on
suspension."
"I'm a bad, bad boy."
"It's not funny, Mulder."
"No," he said gravely. "It's not, but I can't
do
anything about it but laugh."
Baltimore
"Maybe I should take some night classes."
Frank snorted. "This isn't going to be a
repeat of learning Spanish, is it?"
"I just have to find a way to fill some of
my
time. I always liked history. Maybe I could take
some history classes."
"What free time? I thought you were
spending all of your free time with . . . " Frank
trailed off, looking down into his lap.
"With who?"
"Mulder," Pembleton choked. "I thought you
and he . . . ah . . . "
"What are you saying, Frank?"
"I told you in Indianapolis, I would find
out,
and I did."
"Really, did you now?" Bayliss smiled
mysteriously. "Well, you're behind the times, Frank.
Mulder's gone, and has been for the last two weeks."
Frank looked surprised. "I'm sorry, Tim."
Bayliss pushed up his glasses and sighed.
"No you're not."
"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."
"Admit it, Frank. You're relieved. The
thought of your partner being a homo," he
emphasized. "Scares the hell out of you."
"Don't put words in my mouth, I never said
that."
Tim laughed bitterly. "You should have seen
the look on your face when you found that pride pin.
It was priceless."
"I'll admit, I was surprised," Frank
enunciated. "I thought it was one date, an
experiment. I had no idea you were so. . . .
involved."
"Yeah, well . . . "
Frank leaned over, automatically lowering
his voice. "Listen, I'm not going to hug you and
congratulate you on your lifestyle choices. We have
never had that kind of relationship, and we're not
going to have one now, but when I say I'm sorry, I
mean it."
For a moment, Tim was silent. He examined
Frank's face for signs of prevarication, but found
none. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, running his
fingers through his hair.
"Thank you, Frank."
Washington, D.C.
"Why didn't you take the out?" Scully's
question was sudden, direct.
"You don't deserve to have a disciplinary
action written against you because of me," he
drawled. "I get you in enough trouble."
She pursed her lips. "Then why didn't you
tell Skinner the truth?"
Standing up, he held out his hand. "Do you
want another glass of wine?"
"Yes, please," she said, giving him her glass.
"And stop avoiding the question."
"You've been spending too much time with
Pembleton."
"Mulder, you're hiding something."
"I don't want to talk about it, Scully," he
snapped.
Standing up, she picked up her jacket.
"Okay, fine. Push me away like you do everyone
else in your life. I know what happened with Tim.
He got too close, so you abandoned him! You didn't
take the out I was willing to live with because it
would have just killed you to let someone help you.
You broke his heart, Mulder, and you're breaking
mine."
"You're really sexy when you're angry."
If she had still been holding her glass, she
would have thrown it at him. Instead, she started for
the door."Screw you, Mulder."
He reached out for her. "Scully wait, I'm
sorry."
(End Part One)
Title: Forward Slash Segue: Litany and Requiem (2/4)
Baltimore
"So. . . . what's the attraction?"
Bayliss jerked his head over and stared at
Frank. "To what?"
"Mulder . . . men in general. What's
the
attraction? Biologically, we're driven toward
women, to propagate the species. I understand why
men love women. What's the attraction?"
"I don't know, Frank. I'm not a spokesman
for the gay rights movement."
Frank scowled. "Well you know what you
like, don't you? What's the attraction for you?"
"I cannot believe I am having this discussion
with you."
"I was just making conversation."
"It's the same, Frank. When I see a beautiful
woman, I'm interested. I want to know what she's
like. It's the same with an attractive man."
"Well, what do you find attractive in a man?"
"Are you asking me my type?" Bayliss
looked at his partner incredulously.
Pembleton shifted uncomfortably. "I'm just
asking you what . . . "
"I like a tall man, confident. Penetrating
eyes, a nice body. Smart." Bayliss stopped himself.
"Once again, let me say, I cannot believe I'm having
this discussion with you."
Washington, D.C.
Scully held her jacket over crossed hands,
ready to walk out the door at any further
provocation. Watching him struggle for the words,
her expression softened. He was painfully aware that
she was waiting for a response, but his throat
tightened every time he started to speak. He could
talk to her about almost everything, but talking to
her about this was hard, almost too hard.
"I found a pack of Morley's in Tim's
apartment," he admitted slowly.
She raised an eyebrow. "You left him
because he started smoking?"
"Not his," he said, irritated.
"You mean . . . but Mulder, that's
ridiculous! He's dead!"
"I was never convinced of that."
"I can't believe you left Tim on a suspicion!"
"Tim doesn't even know what we do, Scully.
I mean, he knows about the X files, he knows about
some of our cases, but I never told him about
Samantha, or the conspiracy or. . . . do you have
any idea how ridiculous that sounds in the light of
day? I can't let him be drawn into it; we both know
what could happen if he is."
"You should have let him decide on his
own," she said quietly. "He loves you, Mulder."
Mulder's face contorted as he fought back
tears. "That's why I couldn't tell him."
"You can't do everything alone."
Mulder dropped his chin, staring at the floor.
"I don't do it alone. I have you."
Baltimore
"I don't know why he left. He said he had to
go, and he wouldn't be coming back," Bayliss said
miserably, swilling the last of the cold coffee. "I
asked for an explanation, but he didn't give me one."
"Sometimes it's better if you don't know,"
Frank reasoned. "When Mary left, I spent hours
going over her reasons, examining every little detail
of everything she thought was wrong with our
marriage. It was hell."
Tim leaned forward in his seat. "That's him."
They unsnapped the finger breaks on their
holsters as they slid out of the car. They walked
toward their suspect slowly, trying not to draw
attention to themselves as they moved closer.
Pembleton waved Bayliss to the other side of the
road with his gun. Stepping between parked cars,
Tim quickly crossed, reaching down with his left
hand to make sure his badge was still on his belt.
"Freeze," shouted Pembleton, raising his
gun.
Their suspect whirled around, pulling a nine-
millimeter Glock out of his pants. Turning the gun
sideways, he opened fire, not bothering to run.
Frank ducked behind a car, taking aim around the
side-view mirror as Tim disappeared behind a green
Dodge Dart on the other side of the street. Bullets
ricocheted off the asphalt, shattering safety glass and
the silence of the night.
Adrenaline rushed through Frank's blood as
he popped up to fire his own weapon. The suspect
wasn't moving; he just stood there stupidly, firing in
Pembleton's direction. Suddenly, Frank realized he
didn't see Bayliss, and didn't hear a second gun
firing. Moving for a better shot, he lowered his head,
aimed and fired.
Washington, D.C.
They sat next to one another, with Scully
cradling his head against her shoulder. He had
allowed himself to cry, and was now gradually
putting himself back together. Her heart ached for
him; he genuinely believed he was doing the right
thing by walking out on Tim, but he was miserable
without him. She patted his shoulder, murmuring
encouraging words. Her phone started to bleat from
her coat pocket, and with a scowl, she reached over
to answer it.
"Dana?"
Scully tried to place the voice. "Mary?"
"Yes, Dana, I'm sorry to call you, I tried
to
call my parents, but they're out, and I didn't know
what else to do . . . "
"Mary, slow down, what's wrong?"
"Could you come up and stay with the kids,
Dana? I need to be with Frank and I can't find
anyone else to stay with them, I mean, not anyone I
trust and . . . "
A chill fell over Scully, and she disentangled
herself from Mulder. "Is Frank hurt, Mary? What
happened?"
"No," she said, her voice breaking. "It's
Tim.
I don't know the details, they're at the hospital."
"Mary, you're not helping me here. What
happened?"
"There was a gunfight. Frank killed the
suspect. Tim was shot."
"I'll be there as soon as I can."
Baltimore
Giardello walked down the hall, and put his
hand on Frank's shoulder.
"The boy died," he said discreetly.
Frank looked at his superior glassily. "Good.
How's Tim?"
"Still in surgery. It's going to be a while."
Dazed, Frank sat down, trying to erase the
memory of his partner lying on the concrete
sidewalk, his blood reflecting in the greenish
streetlights. Tim hadn't said anything, but his mouth
had opened and closed in wheezing gasps. Glancing
down, Pembleton realized for the first time how
much of Bayliss' blood stained his jacket and crisp
white shirt.
In that instant, the numbness wore off, his
shock passed. Jerking his jacket off, he loosened his
tie, trying to remove the offending clothing. Gee
slapped a hand down on Frank's arm.
"Call Mary," he rasped. "Have her bring you
a shirt."
I-95
Mulder leaned back in the passenger seat,
staring sightlessly into the darkness. His breath was
shallow as he considered the possibilities. Scully
didn't know anything, only that Bayliss had been
shot. He wondered if it was his fault, if his worst
fears had already come true. Clenching his jaw, he
clutched the arm rest and tried not to think about it.
"I'll take you to Mary and Frank's with me,
you can ride with Mary to the hospital," Scully said,
trying to avoid being blinded by the flashing police
light on the dashboard. She noticed the speedometer
creep over 80 as she cut in and out of traffic.
Silently, she said a prayer.
"What if he doesn't make it?"
Stiffening her posture and stretching her
shoulders, Scully shook her head. "He'll make it,
Mulder."
Baltimore
Lewis walked somberly down the hallway
with Munch, his head thrown back and his mouth
cast in a stiff line. They stopped to talk to Giardello
briefly, getting the latest news on Bayliss' condition
before heading into the waiting room. When they
opened the door, they were greeted by a sight they
never expected to see. Kay Howard held Frank close
to her, letting him smother body-wracking sobs
against her shoulder. She acknowledged her former
colleagues with a curt nod of the head.
"Hey Kay," Lewis said, running a comforting
hand over Frank's shoulders.
Frank sat up, wiping his eyes stoically. He
jutted his jaw offset, looking up through his
eyebrows. He nodded a mute thanks to Kay, shaking
his leg nervously.
"Hey, Frank, you want something? A coke?
Maybe some coffee? Whatever you want, I'll get it
for you." Munch stood by, awaiting Pembleton's
command.
"No," he answered weakly, then looked up.
"Wait. What size shirt do you wear?"
(End Part Two)
Title: Forward Slash Segue: Litany and Requiem (3/4)
"Frank talked about you a lot when you were
working together," Mary said, clutching Mulder's
arm as they hurried up the parking garage stairs.
"Really. I'm surprised you let me in your
car."
Mary half-laughed. "I love my husband
dearly, but I don't let him make up my mind for me."
"I'll consider that a blessing."
Frank heard his wife's rich voice before he
actually saw her turning the corner. He stood up to
meet her, to fold her familiar shape in his arms for
comfort. A cold stab went through him when he
realized she wasn't alone. Mulder paled when he saw
Pembleton staring icily though him, and he lowered
his eyes.
"I thought you needed a shirt," Mary said,
wrapping her arms around Frank.
"Munch had one," he mumbled.
Rocking gently, Scully hummed to the baby,
watching his eyes grow heavier with each blink.
Surrounded by the scents of baby powder and
lotion, a little ache in her heart ebbed away. Frank
Jr. smiled dreamily, working his fingers against her
jacket. When she was confident he was truly asleep,
she stood up slowly and laid him on his side in the
crib.
Pulling the side up and locking it, she gazed
down at him for a long time, touching his tiny
sleeved arm, adjusting his blanket. In the soft yellow
glow of the nightlight, the baby seemed almost
ethereal to her. She finally forced herself to leave
him alone, fearing she'd wake him.
As she walked down the hall, she heard
Olivia mumbling restlessly. Scully peeked in to see
the toddler sitting up in bed, pulling at her pigtails.
"I'm scared," Olivia lisped when she saw
Scully.
Stepping inside, Scully raised an eyebrow.
"Of what?"
"Monsters," the child intoned seriously.
With a nod of her head, Scully took a
protective stance. "I'll get him."
Creeping through the room, she swung open
the closet door, clearing it just as she would have if
she'd been looking for a suspect. She made her way
through the room, peeking into drawers, tipping the
lid of the toy box. Olivia giggled as she flipped the
covers off the side of the bed to sweep underneath
it. With a vigorous shake, Scully snapped the
blankets off of Olivia then smiled as they floated
back into place.
"No monsters here," she proclaimed, sitting
on the edge of the bed.
"I want a story. Please."
Scully smiled indulgently, and grabbed one
of the books from the night stand. "Only one."
Mulder was uncomfortable sitting in the
waiting room with the rest of the Baltimore
homicide unit. Even though he knew them, and had
worked with them, he was still an interloper.
Giardello had given him the update (Still in surgery),
then disappeared to do whatever Lieutenants did in
the hospital while one of their own was under the
knife. He'd talked quietly to Kay until she had to
leave. After that, he sat silently detached from
everyone else.
Lewis paced the hall with Kellerman and
Munch, bitching about everything and nothing as
they performed the part of his Greek chorus. Mulder
looked up, and Mary smiled encouragingly to him.
"Hey Frank," Kellerman said as solicitously
as he was capable, "We're going to go down to the
cafeteria, do you want to go?"
Frank shook his head, patting Mary's knee.
"Why don't you go ahead and go? Get something to
drink."
"You sure?"
"Go on. If anything changes," his voice
broke. Shaking his head, he continued. "If anything
changes, I'll let you know."
Gathering her purse, she kissed him softly,
whispering words of solace in his ear. Pulling the
bag onto her shoulder, she joined the small parade of
detectives as they made their way to the elevator.
Frank looked up menacingly, staring through
Mulder. "Why are you here?"
"Same reason you are, Detective
Pembleton."
"I don't think so," he enunciated. "I'm here
because my partner, My. Partner. is hurt."
Staring down at his hands, Mulder sighed.
"I
just have to know he's all right."
With both children soundly sleeping, Scully
sat in the living room, the television set to catch the
late local news. She'd already tried to call Mulder on
his cell phone, but it was out of range or out of
service. She had her laptop spread open on the
coffee table, and she idly browsed the web to take
her mind off the wait. She was startled when the
phone rang, echoing through the quiet house.
"Pembleton residence," she said, catching
it
before the second ring.
"Hi Dana, this is Mary. How are the kids?"
She smiled, thinking of Frank Jr.'s drowsy
smile. "They're fine. The baby's asleep, and I drove
all of the monsters out of Livvy's room. Any news?"
"Everything's still the same up here, Tim's
still in surgery."
"How is Frank holding up?"
"Oh, he's trying to be strong. You won't
believe what he was wearing when I got here."
"What?"
"Munch's shirt. It's only two feet too long
for
him."
They both giggled, then stopped before it
seemed too inappropriate.
"How's Mulder?"
"He seems a little out of place," Mary sighed.
"I know how he feels. Oh wait, hold on."
Scully listened idly as Mary covered the
receiver and spoke to someone else. "They're going
back up, I'd better go."
"Thanks for letting me know, Mary. Tell
Frank I'm praying for Tim, okay?"
"I will."
Frank was officially past the shocked stage.
He stood anxiously, his muscles tensed like a caged
animal's. A seed of anger was growing in his mind-
anger at himself for not shooting the suspect soon
enough, anger at Tim for getting himself shot. He
glowered over at Mulder who was calmly flipping
through a worn copy of Time. Stuffing his hands in
his pockets, Frank clenched his teeth, staring. As if
feeling Pembleton's eyes on him, Mulder looked up
from the magazine.
"Do you remember what I said to you last
time I saw you," Pembleton asked, his lazy
pronunciation belying his rage.
Mulder put the magazine on the table,
standing to face Frank. "I do."
"I killed one man tonight," Frank said
threateningly.
"Do you want to talk?" Mulder regretted
saying it the moment the words left his lips. When all
else failed, he fell back on his psychological training,
but this was definitely the last moment when he
should have. Crossing the tiny room in seconds,
Frank stood nearly chest to chest with Mulder.
"No. I do not want to talk." He spat out each
word in a slow cadence.
"I can wait somewhere else," Mulder said,
trying to defuse the situation.
"You didn't even give him an explanation,"
Pembleton hissed. "You walked out on him, just like
everyone else he's ever cared about, and now you
have the gall to show up here, penitent and
somber?"
"I was trying to protect him," Mulder
mumbled painfully.
"Get out," he growled. "I want you to leave.
Now."
Mulder stared at Frank defiantly. "No."
That was all it took. Pembleton threw a
punch and it landed solidly. Mulder reeled back,
refusing to return the attack. Frank grabbed him by
the lapels, shoving him up against the wall, knocking
a bland painting behind one of the chairs. Fury
burned in his eyes as he slammed Mulder against the
wall again. Suddenly, he felt someone pulling him
away, and he whirled around to find himself face to
face with his wife. She regarded him with disbelief.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Frank,"
she demanded, pulling him into the hallway.
Mulder wiped a stain of blood from his
mouth, shaking his jacket back into place. Meldrick
looked from Mulder to Pembleton and back again,
stunned.
"Man, wha'dyou say to him," Lewis asked
rhetorically, taking Mulder by the shoulder and
leading him past Frank and Mary to the nurse's
station.
"Told him my mama made better cookies
than his mama."
A slight, older woman rushed down the
hallway, flanked by a younger woman and a
teenaged girl. When she spotted Frank, she fairly ran
over to him. She looked familiar to him, clear brown
eyes and a softly sculpted face, but he couldn't place
her.
"You're Detective Pembleton," she said, her
words tumbling over one another.
Frank stood up, holding out his hand. "Yes
ma'am . . . "
"I'm Sarah Bayliss. How's my son?"
"He's still in surgery, Mrs. Bayliss. I'm
sorry
to meet you under these circumstances."
Mrs. Bayliss burst into tears. The younger
woman put her arm around Mrs. Bayliss. "Why don't
you sit down, mom?"
Meldrick jumped up from his seat,
relinquishing it to Tim's mother. He leaned over to
ask her if she needed anything, but she just shook
her head. She pulled a wad of Kleenex from her
purse and dabbed at her cheeks.
"We came as soon as we heard," she said,
shaking Pembleton's hand. "I'm Emma, Tim's sister;
this is my daughter Kelly."
Frank nodded, then looked around the room
to make introductions. "My wife, Mary, our
colleagues, John Munch, Meldrick Lewis, Mike
Kellerman, Teri Stivers ah . . . Paul Falsone and Stu
Gharty are down in the cafeteria, and our lieutenant
is down in the press room."
Ignoring Frank's subtle rebuff, Mulder stood
up and shook Emma's hand. "I'm Agent Mulder, I
worked on a few cases with Tim."
"This would have never happened if Tim had
become a doctor. Doctors don't get shot," Mrs.
Bayliss sobbed. Kelly put her arm around her
grandmother's shoulder.
(End Part Three)
Title: Forward Slash Segue: Litany and Requiem (4/4)
Two more hours ticked by at a maddeningly
slow pace. They filled the minutes with awkward
conversation and idle chatter. Mulder passed the
time talking to Kelly about Quantico and
psychology, doing his best to ignore the bitter glares
Pembleton cast at him. Finally, a green scrubbed
doctor walked into the waiting room, a surgical
mask hanging around his neck.
"I'm Doctor Stine," he said.
Mrs. Bayliss stood up, rushing over to him.
"How is he, doctor?"
"We just got out of surgery," Dr. Stine said,
stating the obvious. "There was a lot of damage
done to his heart and lungs, but I believe we've
successfully repaired it. Fortunately, his head wound
wasn't serious . . . "
"So he's going to be all right," Pembleton
interjected.
The doctor shook his head slightly. "We
don't know yet. There are still a lot of things which
could go wrong, but we're monitoring him very
closely. If you'd like, the immediate family can come
back and see him for a few minutes before we
transfer him to ICU."
The detectives waiting sighed and shifted
in
their seats. They'd spent all night in this hospital,
waiting for resolution, and now they were going to
be denied. Sarah Bayliss looked back at them,
reading the pain and disappointment in their faces,
then turned her attention back to the doctor.
"We're all his family," she said succinctly.
The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Ma'am . . .
"
Mrs. Bayliss stood her ground. "We are all
his family, doctor, and we'd like to see him."
Frank stood numbly over Bayliss, horrified
at
the variety of tubes and needles running in and out
of his partner. The steady beep of the heart monitor
was accompanied by the regular rhythm of the
ventilator. Tim's face and hands were swollen with
the fluids being pumped into him; he was barely
recognizable. Tentative, Frank reached out to lay his
hand on Tim's cheek.
"I got him," he said, breaking down in tears.
"I killed that bastard, Tim. I'm sorry it took me so
long, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry . . . "
His voice trailed down to nothing, and after
a long private moment, he squeezed Tim's hand then
walked out of the room.
Scully's eyes flickered open when she heard
the sound of keys in the front door. She sat up,
brushing the hair out of her face. Mary walked in,
holding Frank's hand.
"He's out of surgery," Mary explained
quietly. "They have him in the ICU now."
Scully nodded, walking over to them.
"Where's Mulder?"
Frank looked at her grimly. "He wouldn't
leave."
"You two look like you need some sleep,"
she said. "Go on, I'll stay as long as you need me
to."
Mary shook her head. "I'm all right, Dana.
I'm too keyed up to sleep anyway."
Mulder stood outside the door of the quiet
room, leaning against the wall. He had already been
into Bayliss' room, and now he was trying to push
the images out of his mind. The last two times he'd
seen him, he'd been in pain, and the guilt burned
through Mulder's stomach. Rubbing his aching jaw,
another mute stream of tears ran down his cheeks.
"Agent Mulder?"
Snapping his head up, he saw Tim's niece
coming down the hall. Her eyes were rimmed in red,
her face puffy from crying.
"Hey Kelly," he said gently, finding a weak
smile for her.
"He doesn't look so bad, does he?"
Mulder shook his head. "Pretty good, all
things considered."
She crossed her arms over her chest, and
leaned against the wall next to him. "You must really
like him, huh? I mean everyone else left a little while
ago."
"Yeah," he said faintly. "I really like him."
"He's going to be okay, isn't he?"
Mulder put an arm around her shoulder.
"Sure he is. He's doing a lot better than I did after I
was . . . "
"Shot," she supplied. "You can say it, it's
okay."
"You're pretty brave," Mulder said.
"I haven't told my mom, but I want to be a
cop, a detective, like Uncle Tim. Pretty stupid,
huh?"
Mulder shook his head. "Not at all. I think
Tim would be proud to hear that."
"I better go check on grandma," Kelly
decided. "Thanks for talking to me, Agent Mulder.
About Quantico and stuff."
He smiled at her conspiratorially. "You can
call me Fox. If you want."
"Your parents must have hated you," she
said with youthful bluntness. "Thanks . . . Fox."
Scully walked up behind Mulder in the
cafeteria, putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked
up at her, smiling crookedly. Her eyes widened as
she noticed his split lip.
"What happened to you," she asked, sitting
next to him.
"Frank happened to me," he smiled. "How'd
you find me?"
"It's funny, really. I went up to find you
in
ICU, and his niece told me that _Fox_ was down in
the cafeteria."
He exhaled a laugh. "Long story."
"So how are you doing?"
"Been better. Pembleton has one hell of an
uppercut."
She raised an eyebrow. "Why'd he punch
you, Mulder?"
"He was defending Tim's honor," Mulder
said ironically. "I'm lucky he only punched me."
"He found out about you two?"
"Oh, he called me on it after the Bettis
interrogation. I guess Tim told him I left."
Scully considered that for a moment. "You
deserved it."
Nodding, Mulder agreed.
"I'm going back to the hospital," Frank
announced, pulling on his suit jacket.
"Frank, you barely slept."
He kissed his wife, and rubbed Olivia's head.
"I'll be fine, Mary."
"Do you want me to drive you?"
He shook his head. "I'll be fine."
"Fox?" Kelly stuck her head into the quiet
room, holding the door open. "Uncle Tim's awake."
Mulder sat up in his chair, squeezing Scully's
hand. "How is he?"
"Sorta confused, like he's drunk. Mom says
it's all the medication."
"Can I . . . can I come back and see
him?
Does he know I'm here?"
"They're taking him off the ventilator. Mom
and grandma will be out in a minute, the doctor said
only one or two people at a time. You can go in
when they get out."
"Thanks, Kelly."
Mulder nodded to Mrs. Bayliss and Emma as
they walked out of Tim's room. Mrs. Bayliss smiled
gently at him as they passed. Dread pressed on him
as he watched Tim through the window, and he tried
to decide what to say. Gathering his courage, he
stepped inside.
Slowly, Tim turned his face toward the
opening door, and his eyes widened a little when he
realized who it was. Mulder walked over, pulling a
chair next to the bed.
"You came," Tim whispered, his voice gritty
and dry.
"How are you feeling?"
"Tired. Just tired."
"I met your family; your mother's amazing."
"Why are you here, Mulder?"
The question struck deep into his heart.
"Because I love you."
"Then why did you go?"
"Same reason."
"I won't . . . I don't understand." Tim
struggled against the overwhelming exhaustion to
stay awake.
Mulder took a deep breath. "I'll explain it.
I'll
explain it all if you give me a chance."
"I don't know."
"Okay," he said, standing up sadly. "I'll
go
now. I know Kelly wants to see you."
Tim lifted his hand slightly. "Wait."
He stopped, clutching the bed rail with white
knuckles. "Yes?"
"I'm too tired . . . too tired to argue
with
you now, we can do it later."
Mulder knitted his brows in confusion.
"Okay."
"I still love you, Mulder," Tim admitted,
his
voice growing weaker. He extended a finger to
touch Mulder's hand. "I still love you."
"I love you, too."
(End Part Four)
(The End)