By Katvictory
Katvictory57@aol.com
 

RATING: PG - 13
SPOILERS: In CC's universe I think through
Quagmire.
SUMMARY: Scully and Mulder's life is disrupted
again by the return of old enemies.
CATEGORIES: Angst, MSR - Married, Alternate
Universe
DISCLAIMERS: Chris Carter owns all
characters. I expect nothing in return. The song
mentioned in the story from the Eric
Clapton album, "Timepieces II," was written by
Chaplin, Parsons and Phillips. These artists own
this piece of
music. I am just borrowing the lyrics.  I expect
no money
from its use in this story.

Author's Notes: This story is set in the universe
I first created in the story "In The Interest of
Science". That is a very long tale, you are
welcome to read it. Hopefully, the way this was
written will explain enough of the story it could
stand alone. However, if I'm wrong and there are
just too many gaps  the story  is posted at
Xemplary and Muldertorture Anonymous.
 
 

Timepieces
by Katvictory

We just don't get a sunset here at our place in
the Rockies. Not like the ones we used to get at
the hacienda on the beach. Every evening, we'd sit
together on the deck and watch the day slowly
fade. The sun would finally surrender into the
Pacific and above would be the pink and orange
glow that gradually deepened to red, indigo and
violet, then on to the velvety ebony of night.
Now, at our new home in the canyon, twilight fades
quickly, in the blink of an eye, into shadowy
darkness. We do have the stars. Far away from the
brightness of the cities, I look up and see the
twinkling Milky Way of my childhood. That's how
life is, you lose something, but if you search
hard enough you'll find another reason to smile.

I glance down at Kristy to remind myself of this
truth. She's her daddy's girl. Since day one,
she's held my heart in her hands and she's known
it. That first night we brought her home from the
orphanage in La Paz, she fell asleep in my arms,
just like tonight. I held her, up until midnight,
until Scully finally persuaded me it was okay to
put her down. I don't mind, I love to hold her. I
love the heft of her small body in my lap, the
warmth of her hand as it rests on mine. I even
relish the soft whisper of her snore, as she
breathes against my chest. I find the sound
comforting.

Mama strolls out to check on us. With my free arm
I pull her to me and she slides down upon my other
knee. She's better now. She's gaining back some of
the weight she lost. The thick bulk of my sweater
swallows her but she wears it all the time. She
says she's always cold. It's like the grief has
sapped the warmth from her bones. Please, God,
don't let the spark that lights her be gone
forever. Help me put a fire back in her soul.

As always, she notices the change in my mood. Her
hand rises to my face to comfort me. I glance down
to see two clear, sapphire eyes and I am suddenly
filled with such love it overflows and tears spill
down my face.

"Mulder?" she whispers, the eyes are now dark with
concern.

I offer her a grin of reassurance and a murmured,
"I love you."

And finally, I am graced by the gift of Scully's
smile.

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

Her pregnancy made her restless. That's why we
made that ill-fated trip into Reno. We had moved
to Northern California on a whim, too. It had been
mine. It just seemed to me, seclusion in Mexico
was just too secluded for a pregnancy. I know, it
sounds horrible, but you can't really call me
xenophobic -- we were the foreigners. I think
during that time, I was reduced to my primitive
state. I had become the protector, the provider. I
didn't realize my reasoning had been affected. I
just believed that it was safer for Scully and the
baby, since remote was what we had to be, to be
remote in America.

We found out she was pregnant in her third month.
A routine physical disclosed the fact. It of
course, came as a complete shock.
You see, Scully had been told by three
separate doctors that she was barren.
Her ovaries had atrophied. She had not had her
menses since she had been returned after
her abduction. She had already accepted the fact
she would never bear a child. That's why we had
adopted Kristina.

What we didn't count on was the treatment I had
during my childhood and our captivity. I had
always been a fast healer. With my penchant for
always getting hurt, that was very fortuitous. I
never suspected there was a more sinister reason
for my self-regenerative abilities. Not until the
ACCIDENT. I am a modern medical miracle or a freak
of science. Take your pick, both are true, it all
depends on how you want to look at it.

Three years ago, Scully and I were involved in a
car accident. It was one in which, for all intent
and purposes, I should have died. I was, believe
it or not, a triple amputee. That warm, spring
evening, my life was destroyed. Hers was too,
because she followed me into my private hell.

She gave up her entire life and became my
caretaker. She IS an amazing woman -- so strong,
so resilient. She nursed me through my attempt at
rehabilitation. She stood by me, through my anger
and depression. She even was going to help me end
it all, when that time came, when I couldn't stand
the pain of knowing what I'd become.

Once, I had facetiously confided to her I wanted a
peg leg. I had honestly, if flippantly told her --

"If you have a peg leg or hooks for hands, you
know, maybe it's enough to simply carry on living,
you know, bravely facing life with your
disability, it's heroic just to survive. But
without these things, you're actually expected to
make something of your life, achieve something,
earn a raise, wear a neck tie. If I did have a peg
leg, I'd quite possibly be more happy, more content."
Now, I can't believe I ever thought those things.
What a pretentious fool I was, thinking I was so
wise and philosophical.

After the accident,  I resented the fact I was
still alive and began to hate those who conspired
to keep me that way. I hurt everyone around me,
especially the person who loved me most.  The very
day she'd agreed to help me die, a messenger came
offering me another chance. The Consortium, our
old adversaries, had  inadvertently developed a
procedure that would give me back my missing
limbs.

This experiment had not been done totally in the
interest of science. After it's success, I was
informed that I was to remain at the lab/hospital
indefinitely. They harvested skin samples,
bone marrow, blood and semen from me -- all to
discover how my body had mutated. Their plans
were to keep me as their own private lab rat.
Luckily, with the help of my mother and the Lone
Gunmen, we escaped.

We took new identities and made a life for
ourselves away from the lies and deceit of our old
ones.

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

We were happy when "we" conceived. But always
there was a lingering fear. We knew that I had
infected her with the my mutated cells. What other
changes had occurred to her system? The Lone
Gunmen had been made the caretakers of my family's
fortune because Fox Mulder was dead. Scully and I
were now Dave and Amy Morgan. We kept our low
profile because certain people were looking for
me. These same people would also want Scully and
God forbid, our child, should they ever find out
that my wife's barren womb was now bearing fruit.

The Gunmen suggested we move to another location
for the duration of the pregnancy and the birth.
Once the baby was born we could return to our
beach front home without a trail leading back to
our home base. As I explained before, I chose
Northern California as the perfect spot for my son
to call his birthplace.

We felt it would be best if we had someone
house-sit our home and Melvin Frohike said he
would send someone down. As paranoid as the eldest
Gunman was, we felt sure that whom ever he got
would be "safe," with no hidden agenda. Scully was
not too sure about having one of the Gunmen's
eccentric friends occupying our house for six to
eight months, but I assured her that the boys knew
she would kick their asses should anything happen to
our humble abode.

The morning we were to leave for our new
residence, our house-sitter showed up at the door.
At first glance, I would have sworn it was Melvin Frohike.
It was in fact Melvin's older brother, Ira. The
family resemblance was remarkable, but Ira's taste
in clothes was considerably more mainstream than
his baby brother and he proclaimed that the
differences did not end there. The elder brother
claimed Melvin's eccentricities were the result
of their mother dropping him on his head one too
many times.

Be that as it may, Ira did share his
brother's computer interest and planned on running
his web page design business out of our home while
he took care of our house. With our fingers
crossed and with Scully whispering a silent
prayer, we left him our keys.

We chose Susanville, California for several
reasons.  Number one on our list was Dr. Julie
Phillips. She came highly recommended by Scully's
sister-in-law, Tara, as an excellent obstetrician,
who specialized in problem pregnancies. We were
not sure if this was going to be a problem
pregnancy but we went to Dr. Phillips with the
explanation that this being the first time Amy
(Scully) had conceived, and since she was in her
late thirties, we would rather be safe than sorry.

Scully and the little uber checked out fine and,
wonder of wonders, the pregnancy progressed
normally.

Number two on our list for picking Susanville was
the fact the town was small enough to be, once
again, low profile but large enough that we felt
at least a part of the world. There was a movie
theater, shopping centers and it was within close
driving distance to Reno, Nevada. Reason number
three was purely aesthetic. That portion of the
state is beautiful and Susanville was a picture
perfect little town. Plus, number four, we found a
great house on the north side of town that we just
had to have.

It was a log cabin with 2 1/2 stories that offered
every modern amenity, including a hot tub in the
master bath. Scully, unfortunately, had to forgo
that pleasure because of the baby but my forty-
year-old bones loved it. The place had three
large bedrooms, a den and a family room, so we
each had our own space, including Kristina. The
backyard was huge and came complete with both a
swing set/play yard and a massive patio/deck that
offered a wonderful view of the valley.

The people of Susanville were small town friendly.

Out of necessity, we weren't ones to socialize,
but we did become close to the older couple down
the hill. They baby sat Kristy for us on occasion
and sort of adopted Scully. She needed a mom and we
still had not found a way to get together with
Maggie, her mother, without endangering everyone
involved.

I loved her being pregnant. She is a beautiful
woman, always, but pregnant she was unbelievably
lovely. It took my breath away and made my heart
ache just to look at her. Her hair sparkled,
highlights I'd never seen and didn't know existed,
shone in her hair. Her eyes glowed, they lightened
to a shade of blue that rivaled the summer sky.
She complained she was getting fat, but to me she
had rounded into a Madonna, all knowing and all
loving.

We would lie together at night, her small body,
form fitting next to mine, and I would rest
my hand on her belly, delighting in the idea of
our love growing there. I went wild the first time

I felt the baby kick. He'd been shy those first
couple of weeks after Scully first sensed him
moving.Finally, I felt the thump that told me my
son was alive and thriving.  All my life, without knowing
it, I had waited for that moment. Life was
perfect. I had Scully and Kristina, my two little
women and soon I'd have my son. Everything that
had gone wrong in my life, I would make right in
his.

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

It was a warm summer day and we had made plans to
hop over to Reno and spend the night. Scully was
entering her seventh month and we knew this would
be one of our last trips so far away from home.
The Levens, the couple who had befriended us, were
to take Kristina for the night. It was harder on
us, leaving her for the first time overnight, than it
was on the child. She loved the way the couple
spoiled her. They were perfect surrogate
grandparents.

We left early, wanting to make time before the
heat of the day came. After dropping Kristina off
at the babysitters we were on our way. Highway 395
is a fairly wide two lane road  and the scenery on
the trip, while not breathtakingly beautiful like that
of other excursions you could take in the area, was
certainly not boring. It was typical of what one
might call high desert with buttes and flat top
mesas, on occasion, to break up the plain-like
monotony. It was not a commute I'd like to make
everyday, but it was a fairly comfortable drive.

We'd made reservations at Harrah's for a room and
a floor show. Most people who know the two of us
don't realize, but in this instance, Scully is
more of the die-hard gambler. Oh, she usually just
feeds the nickel machines, but she is so cute on
the rare occasions she hits a good one. I usually
just play a few hands of blackjack then wander
over to watch her. I don't think I'll ever tire of.

Scully-watching.

We had gotten in the habit of making a pit stop in
the little burg of Doyle on our Reno/Tahoe drives,
for that's about as far as the expectant mama
could go without needing the facilities. While
Scully was in using the ladies room, I topped off
the jeep and went inside the convenience store to
pay and grab us something to drink. This fateful
day, I was strolling back out to the car when  I
saw him.

The sleek black sedan slowed on the highway like
it was going to pull into the parking lot, but
suddenly sped off,  back onto the road. There,
through the passenger side window of the
purposefully non-descript car, was a face I would
never forget. It was Alex Krycek.

I trotted over to our 4X4, fumbling with my keys.
Tossing the bottled water in the back seat, I
started the car up, only to pause to figure my
next move. Scully suddenly opened the door and I
jumped. She raised a questioning brow at my
reaction, but I didn't have a chance to explain.
The car returned and pulled into the drive. I
instantly gunned the motor and took off down the
highway.

"Mulder, what's wrong?" Scully asked, a hint of
worry in her tone.

I checked the rear view mirror and saw they were
in pursuit. "Buckle your seat belt," I instructed,
hastily cinching my own.

Of course, Scully would not let me get away
without answering. "What's going on?" she asked.
Still she complied with my request, fastening  her
belt and adjusting the shoulder harness to
accommodate the swell of her belly.

"They found us."

Three simple words -- such a bitter pill to
swallow. I saw her pale as she digested my reply.
I had no idea what to do. I hardly thought we
could outrun them and the direction we were
traveling did not lend itself to evasive
maneuvers.

Krycek and his goons were several cars back. They
had to make a U-turn when we sped off, and traffic
on this late summer weekend was heavy. Glancing in
the mirror again, I saw our tail was moving up, having
passed a couple of semis. They were now two
vehicles away -- too close for my comfort.

I glanced around the truck ahead of us, noticing
it had downshifted to make the steady grade we'd
just started to climb. The moment we crested the
butte, I pulled out to pass him. That was my first
big mistake. The tradgedy was it led to to others.

There was a pickup heading straight toward us. I
had underestimated its speed and we were in its
lane. I had no where to go. On the far side was
a steep drop down the mesa. On the other side was,

of course, the eighteen wheeler. I floored it and
prayed as I shot the gap between the two trucks.
We made it, but  the moment my tire hit the soft
dirt of the shoulder, I knew we were going to
over-correct.

I tried to keep us from heading off the road but I
lost control in the loose sand. We rolled off the
side of the steep incline. Our initial tumble
seemed in slow motion. I had time enough to see
the shocked expression on Scully's face and notice
her protectively folding both arms about her
mid-section. I just knew I had killed us all.

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

I awoke to the sound of a man talking. I was
hanging upside down, my seatbelts still holding me
securely. As my mind began to clear, I recognized
a sound that chilled my blood. I could hear
Scully, somewhere, screaming. I tried to go to
her, but found I was trapped.

"Hold on, Mr. Morgan," the man, who was an EMT,
ordered trying to restrain me. "We have to get
your legs free. Your wife is being taken care of.
She's in good hands."

"They're hurting her," I mumbled. Darkness rose up
to meet me.

Scully delivered in the ambulance on the way to
the hospital. Our son never took his first
breath.

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

Maggie Scully traveled to Susanville to pick up
Kristina from the Levens and brought her to Reno,
where she and the Gunmen had gathered upon hearing
the news of our accident. She made plans to stay
with for as long as we needed her to help watch
Kristy.

Frohike knew our cover had been blown. He'd left
several messages that day to tell us the news.
We'd left too early. We didn't find out until the next
morning that Ira Frohike was dead. Ira usually
contacted Melvin via e-mail every other day. When
he didn't hear from his big brother, Melvin got
worried and had a contact go check things out at
our hacienda. Ira had been beaten and tortured
before he died. The eldest Gunman assumed the
worst, that they'd gotten what they wanted from
Ira, then killed him.

Dave, Amy & Kristina Morgan all died that day,
too.

We never returned to the dream home in
Susanville. No need, what we'd left behind wasn't
important. We'd learned to travel light.  Scully
and I left the hospital after two days. Physically
I was in worse condition than my wife. I had a
broken left leg, a fairly bad concussion and some
pretty bruised ribs. But I heal pretty fast. I'm
lucky that way.

Scully was bruised and battered but her bones were
not what got broken on that highway.

We spent two months staying at the Gunmen's safe
houses, which were the homes of subscribers of
their original newspaper. We lived state to state,
pillar to post. Such is the life of those who must
live "low profile". Not exactly an environment  in
which to heal mentally. On the outside, my wife
seemed fine. The bruises faded quickly. She heals
amazingly fast now too. It wasn't until we got our
new identities and settled into the house in
Northern Colorado that we were able to even
address the fact that Scully really wasn't doing
so well.

I guess part of the problem was that I, too, was
having trouble dealing with what happened. I
blamed our enemies for the death of our son, but I
knew very well what my role in the tragedy had
been. After all, protecting my family, wasn't that
my job? I didn't do it too well, now, did I?  I
still tend to be self-centered at times, the
lessons I learned after the first accident
sometimes get ignored. I focused more on myself
and my guilt and not enough on what Scully was
going through. As stupid as it sounds, I even had
a hard time facing her, my guilt was so all
consuming.

It wasn't until we had gotten our new identities
and settled in Northern Colorado that I finally
took the time to notice the changes in my wife.
She was thin, terribly thin. She'd quit eating.
She slept all the time. Some days, she never even
got dressed. Nothing seemed to matter to her. Now,
it didn't take a degree in psychology to know that
Scully was suffering from severe depression. No,
one look into her eyes could have told me that,
had I bothered to notice.

I tried to draw her out. To get her to talk about
what had happened. She preferred to keep it all
locked inside. My next plan was to smother her
with kindness. To make up for all the time I'd
lost when I was so self-involved. My attempts were
ignored. She'd rather be alone. Nothing I could do
for her helped. It was Kristina who finally came
up with the key that helped her take her first
step back.

Our daughter is very talented. She loves music.
The child can hear a song one time and sing it
back to you along with the record. The words are
not always right. Some times she misunderstands
the lyrics and what the child repeats becomes a
different song entirely. Hearing her sing "Son of
a bitch, I'm in love with him," to the tune of
Madonna's, "Papa Don't Preach," was an eye opener.

But she got the words all right the night she sang
that song to her mother. I guess she'd heard it
countless times before because I'm a Clapton fan.
But I had never even stopped to listen to the
words myself.

Out of the mouths of babes. We'd gone in to tell
Mama goodnight. Scully barely had the energy to
give her a peck on the cheek.

"Can you get Daddy to play my song for you?"
Kristy asked, not wanting to leave the room.

I had no idea what she was talking about. She had
never mentioned to me about having a favorite
song. I took her request to be a ploy to stay up
and suggested we might let Mama hear it tomorrow.
Kristina shook her head, tears in her eyes. I let
her lead me down stairs to go get the CD she
requested. That's right, she knows exactly how to
play Daddy.

I was suprised when she picked  "Timepieces II". I
was expecting Barney or at least one of her Disney
CDs. We hurried back up to play the song for
Mama. Our daughter is a ham. She waited till she
had our full attention and as I skipped through
each tune in turn, she listened to the first few
bars in rapt silence, until I finally found the
one that was her favorite.

"Smile, though your heart is aching.
Smile, even though it's breaking.
Though there are clouds in the sky,
You'll get by...
If you smile through your fears and sorrows.
Smile and maybe tomorrow.
You'll see the sun come shining through.
If you just light up your face with gladness,
Hide every trace of sadness.
Although a tear may be ever, ever so near.
That's the time you must keep on trying.
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find life is still worthwhile
If you'll just smile, come on and smile.
If you just smile."

I looked into Scully's eyes, they were sparkling
with tears. She wrapped her arms around Kristina,
looked up at me and smiled.

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

Once a week we make the trip down the mountain to
Fort Collins to get our groceries and to go to our
family-counseling session at the Hope Center. The
hour long meetings have helped Scully come to
terms with what happened. Healing is slow and
there are still some bad days. But she is alive
again. You can see it in her eyes. I hate to admit
it but the therapy has helped me too. I'm still
not ready to deal with all the secrets hidden in my mind,
but the grief counseling has helped me overcome my
guilt. That's saying a lot for me.

We've talked, Scully and I, about trying to become
pregnant again. We both have decided that we'll
postpone adding to our family until that day when
we no longer have to hide. We have hope that it
won't be much longer. You see, we've decided to
fight back. With the help of our friends, the
Gunmen, we feel we have the resources and the
connections to bring down our enemies. Our battle
will be in the shadows and we know it will be long
and hard, but we know we'll never have a life
unless we wage this war.

The light in her eyes has finally come back and
now, that we've decided to fight, the fire has
returned to her soul.  We feel there's a future
there ahead for us. There are no guarantees.
There never are, in life. We know that. But there
is one thing I'm certain of -- I can face anything
for one glimpse of Scully's smile.

End