A LIFE:  NECESSARY FAMILY
By Char Chaffin
Category:  MSR, future AU
Rating:  PG-13

This is the final installment in my ongoing series, "A Life".  It
would probably help if you have read the previous stories:

"The Hitcher"
"Far From the Madding Crowd"
"You're Still You"
"Small-Town Man"

This one falls between "You're Still You" and "Small-Town Man".

DEDICATION:  To my wonderful IWTB list-mates, who have inspired me
throughout the writing of this series!

Summary:  'Most of all... there's happiness...'
 

"Necessary Family"
 

"Daddy?"

"What is it, Kevin?"

"Who's Mulder?"

Frank drops the bucket of chicken feed, not even seeing the wildly
clucking hens as they dive-bomb around his feet, greedy for the
overload of feed. He stares down at his son, standing there in the
watery early-spring sun with his little hat pulled down over his
ears to protect them from the wintry nip in the air. As the chickens
gulp feed like there's no tomorrow, Frank struggles to make his mind
function.

He wonders how on earth Kevin heard that name, for he and June are
always very careful never to say it around him. Now more than ever,
it's vital to keep mention of that name silent and secret. They are
not completely safe in Simmons, and that's a fact they must live
with each and every day. Though it's been a quiet and uneventful
winter... Frank refuses to take any chances -

Not where his precious family is concerned.

He clears his throat a little and bends to pick up the spilled feed,
smiling his thanks when Kevin squats down and helps him scoop it
into the old tin bucket. "Where did you hear that... word...
Kevin?" Maybe if he treats it like a word and not a name...

No such luck. "The other night. I was walkin' to the bathroom, an' I
heard Mommy say it. In your room."

Shit. Frank sighs, and rubs one feed-dusty hand over his face,
leaving a smudge behind. They'd been careful, he thought - careful
to never use their real names unless it was very late at night.
But, the other evening the TV had been on the fritz and they were
all tired, so they'd gone to bed extra early - and he'd been having
a serious talk with June. When he and June talked seriously, nine
times out of ten their real names would pop out - and suddenly he
remembered the conversation, word for word, although he'd done his
level best to put it out of his mind...

"I can't believe you want to do this, Mulder. It's far too
dangerous. I love you for thinking of it but please, just forget
it." Her blue eyes had been pleading with him, and when he took her
hand it was ice-cold.

Frank had tried to reassure her. "It could work, baby - don't just
discount it! Don't you think I can't tell how much you miss them?
I miss them, too. And Kevin... he should know who his relatives
are.  He should know his grandma, and his uncles."  His face was open
and earnest as he tried to convince her.  "Maybe just an extended
visit, if nothing else.  If your brothers don't want to come, then
maybe your mom.  I could go and get her..."

His voice faded off at the shake of her head, her expression
resolute and determined.  "No. You know it's not safe.  It hasn't
even been nine months yet since we've been here.  I don't think it's
safe for them to travel and I know it's not safe for either of us to
leave Simmons."

June had risen from the bed and moved to where he stood in the
bathroom doorway; she curled herself into his arms and kissed the
side of his neck, murmuring, "I DO love them, Mulder - but I love you
and Will, just as much.  You're my primary family.  It's all about
leaving home; it's even in the Bible... 'A man shall leave his Mother
and A woman leave her Home.'  I willingly left home, knowing I may
never see them again.  When Will and I went into hiding I had a long
talk with Mom and she understood - and in turn she explained things
to the guys.  You were on the road, fighting to get back to us - and
I knew as soon as we made the decision to resume our life together
that my family would be off-limits. I knew the potential loss.  We
cannot jeopardize our son's safety or ours, especially when we don't
know for certain who's still on our trail."

Frank had held her close, feeling the slight tremble of her body and
knowing just what it cost her to disavow the need for her family.
Yet he pressed his lips into her soft hair and had demurred, "Scully,
you need them -"

The negative shake of her head once again stopped him from saying
more.  "I have what I need, Mulder.  I know you think I've lost a
great deal, but look what I have gained.  Besides," she stared up
into his eyes, her blue gaze steady and honest, "You've lost far
more, if you want to compare notes.  And even though I haven't been
with my mother, or brothers in all this time, still I take comfort in
the fact of their living existence.  I may need and ache to see them
from time to time but more than the wanting of their physical
presence I find myself content knowing they're out in the world and
safe."  She pressed a hand to his cheek in a tender caress.
"Someday... maybe.  When and if we know the danger for us is past.
Maybe then."

Frank parted his lips to protest one final time; June moved her hand
from his cheek to his mouth and cautioned, "No more, okay?  No more
talk about it.  Let it go.  They're my family and I know best how I
may be missing them.  Right now, I can handle it, even though at
times I may wax melancholy.  Frank... please let it go."

For her, he'd let it go.

*****************

"What else did you hear that night, Kevin?"  Frank is almost afraid
to know.  Kevin is a smart little boy  - sometimes too smart.
They've never had an opportunity to test his IQ, but Frank knows it
would probably be off the charts for a child barely ready to start
school.  Already Kevin speaks like a child years older, already he
can read on a level beyond the average kindergartner.

Kevin scrapes up another handful of feed and holds it out for his
favorite hen.  Pinney is fat and lays more eggs than any of her
feathered nest-buddies, and is really the only hen patient enough to
let a small boy take her eggs without pecking his little fingers.
Kevin concentrates on feeding Pinney, as he answers, "Well... I heard
Mommy say 'Grandma'.  I guess I thought I didn't have one, 'cause
I've never seen her."  Kevin raises curious eyes to his father.  "Do
I have a Grandma?  What's she like?  I don't 'member her."

Frank sighs and tugs gently at his son, bringing him to his feet and
into his arms.  Relishing the feel of those small but strong arms
curling around him, Frank kneels on the cold ground and hugs Kevin,
forgetting for the moment that the hens really need to go back in
their heated coop and there are inside chores that require his
attention.  He holds Kevin close and tries to explain things that he
himself has never been overly sure of understanding.

"You were very young, Son - the last time you saw your Grandma.
Only a baby, not even walking yet.  We had to move away and Grandma
couldn't go with us.  But she loves you, very much."  He dreads the
thread of Kevin's thoughts, for this is a smart little boy.  His
cognizant reasoning is already formidable for one so young...

"But if Grandma hasn't seen me since I was a baby, she really don't
know me, right?  So how can she love me if she don't know me?"

Frank absently corrects, "'Doesn't', Kevin.  The proper word is
'doesn't'.  And she loves you because she learned to love you from
the very beginning when you were first born.  Just because you
haven't been around her in years, doesn't mean she loves you any
less.  She may not know who you are right now - but she loves you.
She always will."

"Can I see her?  Does she live in Vermont?  Does she live in
Simmons?  Can we go to her house? Can I bring Briggs and Pinney to
see her?"  The questions shoot out of his little boy like bullets,
each one stinging Frank because of course the answer to all of them
is a resounding and depressing, 'No'.  And he hates that each
question has to be answered negatively.  He hates that he has to
disappoint his child.  He hates that he cannot find a way to bring
June her beloved family.  Most of all, he hates that.

With one hand Frank indicates the need to gather up the hens and get
them settled into the coop.  As Kevin obligingly begins shooing the
squawking cluckers into their nests, Frank gives the most honest
answer he can, under the circumstances.

"I don't know, Son.  When I do know, you'll be the first one I tell."

**********************

Although the days have been getting longer, this far north it's
still dark fairly early.  Spending a great deal of time outside has
wiped Kevin out and he falls asleep in front of the fireplace, pajama-
clad body curled around Briggs, the golden retriever they adopted,
just a month after moving into the farmhouse.  The family room is
toasty warm and Frank is feeling a bit sleepy himself, but manages to
pry his eyes open long enough to pick Kevin off Briggs and carry him
to bed, the devoted pup following close behind.

Once Kevin and Briggs are snugged in and snoring into each other's
faces, Frank heads back downstairs and settles himself next to June,
who has been sitting quietly, staring into the flames.  He slips an
arm around her and draws her close, smiles when she cuddles against
him and rests a warm palm high on his leg. Frank's soft musing is a
breath against her hair.

"Kevin asked me today who 'Mulder' is."

June pulls her head away from its nest on his shoulder, and stares
at him worriedly.  "He actually said your name?  God... he must have
heard us talking one night.  We'll have to redouble our efforts to
not use those names."

Frank shakes his head.  "I don't think that's the answer, baby.
Kevin is such a smart little boy.  And as he gets older he's just
going to get smarter.  We're going to have to face it - sooner or
later we'll have to explain things to him.  Make him understand it's
not for anyone to know except us."

"I'm not... comfortable with that, Frank.  It's a huge
responsibility for such a young boy.  Even if we waited a few more
years he'd still be so young.  There has to be a better way -"

Frank interrupts her without apology.  "What better way, June?
Kevin has already heard the name, has already expressed curiosity.
Not only that - but he asked about his Grandma."

June's gasp is loud in the quiet room.  "He said... oh, God.
Mulder... what did you tell him?"

Frank is reassuring.  "I told him that yes, he has a Grandma that
loves him very much, and someday he might see her again.  But because
we moved so far away it would be hard to see her.  I think he
accepted it just fine.  Trouble is, we live in a place where families
don't move away.  Our neighbors have parents and sisters, brothers...
cousins, still here in town.  It's the nature of a small place."  He
rubs a hand over her shoulder soothingly, adding, "Maybe someday, as
you said... someday we'll all be together.  But until then, if our
son asks we have to be as honest with him as we can and trust he can
handle it.  He's so special, Scully - I think it'll be all right."

She nods against his neck, "Yes.  He's special.  And I know I have
to trust, as well - that it'll be all right." June settles more fully
into her husband's arms, and an easy silence falls between them,
accentuated by the occasional pop of embers in the fireplace.  When
she yawns, Frank echoes it, nestling his head on her soft hair.

It's been another long day for both of them.  The ground is still
too cold for planting even though the days have been warming up.
Next week one of their neighbors, Mel Henson, is coming over to help
Frank begin the task of tilling their garden; he and June will get a
crash course in fertilizing and seeding as well as crop planning.

None of their neighbors have quizzed them about their relative
ignorance of country life.  For that, Frank has been grateful.  They
have been completely accepted here in Simmons and the warm feeling
this gives their hearts affords them the luxury of awakening every
day with positive thoughts and much hope.

Truly, they can't ask for more than that.  And they don't.

As the fire dies down and June dozes in the curve of his arm, Frank
thinks about the family they left behind and the sacrifice that June
made that dark day she decided to toss in her lot with him and face
whatever future they managed to eke out.  How hard it must have been
to have that talk with her mother, and how in turn her mother would
have been faced with the difficulty of explaining it to brothers who
had always been overprotective and suspicious of him.  He never knew
the specifics of her flight with their child, because it had been a
done deal by the time she contacted him, and told him to come home.

How brave she'd been... and how he'd adored that burst of courage.
Still does... for her continued bravery shines every single day of
their lives, here in Simmons.  June is never afraid to try new
things; has in fact leapt into it with both feet.  And he knows
they've had little choice, but still... it means everything to him -
that she is his partner in every sense of the word.  His helpmeet.
His wife.

Frank leans over her warm body and snaps off the lamp, shushing her
gently when she stirs and mumbles, "Locks, Mulder..."  Standing up,
he lifts her from the overstuffed sofa cushions and settles her in
his arms.  Leaving one light on downstairs, Frank carries her to bed,
whispering to her that yes, he locked the doors.  It's safe.  They're
safe...

The hallway light casts into the bedroom, enough to show him the way
to their bed.  He lays June down and undresses her, then strips off
his own clothes and maneuvers both of them under the covers.  For
Kevin's safety, Frank always leaves the hall light on, neither of
them minding the way it shines into their room.  And the glow from
outside the partially-closed door illuminates the unfinished quilt on
its rack in the corner - another show of bravery on June's part.
Tackling the intricacies of sewing... something as foreign to her as
gardening will be, to him.  The quilt will be quite lovely when it's
finished and it'll grace their bed for years to come.  Frank is so
proud of her...

"Mmmmmm.  Mulder..."

"What, baby?"

"I'm naked.  Where's my nightgown?"

"Under your pillow, where it's going to stay for approximately an
hour."

"An hour, huh?  Are you saying you're a 'Sixty-Minute Man'?"

"I'm YOUR man, Scully... and don't you forget it."

"Well then... make me remember, 'Baby'..."

"Oooh, Scully... I love it when you call me 'Baby'... love it even
more when you issue orders."

"In that case... I want your mouth, right here.  And your left
hand... just so... and the fingers of your right hand - well, I could
demonstrate just where you need to place them... are you getting all
of this, Mulder?"

"Oh, yeah."

*************************

In the dim light of the hallway, deep in the night when they're not
afraid to mention names... Frank sets about the following of his
wife's orders.  A mouth on the swell of one rounded breast, his left
hand curling around the fullness of the other... right-hand fingers
slipping down her silky skin and finding soft inner flesh with
unerring accuracy.  A press here, a tickle there... a moan, and a
sigh.  The sounds of loving, coming from the bedroom of a farmhouse
deep in the upper foothills of the Bluff Mountains, on a nippy
late-March night.  Kisses wet with the taste of each other, tongues
in harmony with the movements their bodies make, against each other.

It's nobody's birthday, not a holiday in sight and yet they
celebrate.  But for them, every day they get through is a cause for
celebration.  Every night they come together in their big old bed is
a joyous occasion.  And they don't question for how much longer their
luck may hold out.  They don't dwell on what they don't have, who
they might miss.  They don't ask why; they're merely thankful for
whom, and where... it's enough, for now.

Spring has arrived in their mountains, with summer close on its
heels.  Life is rejuvenating itself all around them and they're warm
and as safe as possible - and they're happy.  Most of all, there's
happiness.

It's enough.

End
 

I think this series is done.  This will be the last, as I have always
intended "Small-Town Man" to be the epilogue of my "A Life" series.
And with this fic I have taken them into spring.

I don't see myself backtracking but you never know; inspiration may
strike me! But if I don't... thank you all!  For reading, for
cheering me on and for embracing this very Necessary Family:
Frank, June, Kevin... and Briggs.

I love hearing from everyone; email me!  char@chaffin.com

My stories have a cozy home: come and visit!  http://char.chaffin.com