Sent: Monday, October 02, 2000

Getting Back (2/2)

<cont from Part 9>

Getting Back - (10-15)
Disclaimer on Section 1
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I could see Omra sitting at the far end of the room, watching me,
her face starting to show some kind of expression, an expression of
sadness. I'm lying on an ice-cold table; four grays dressed in white
medical clothing stand around it. They are unlike the ones on
earth, different somehow, I can feel it. Nastro is among them. One
of the shorter grays takes a syringe from the sterile tray, filling
it with a clear liquid, measuring the amount with precision. I look
at Nastro next to me, who is focusing on Omra watching from a
distance, neither of them doing anything to stop the being holding
the syringe. I imagine he is going to put the syringe in the IV
drip but he doesn't. He takes my arm, which is strapped securely to
the table and within seconds the cold fluid is going through my
veins. I am panicking; I feel that the air is slowly being drawn
from my lungs. I'm fighting it, but I can't, my eyes are closing
into darkness.

+++

Omra sits motionless in the corner, watching the medical doctors at
work. She knows the reason for the surgery because Nastro has told
her. It seems that Mulder's DNA is unlike most other human's. She
remembers another young human, who also had the unique genetic
makeup; a boy named Gibson. She wanted to stand close to her human
friend; to touch him to reassure him, but moving would risk being
sent out of the room. So, she waited patiently.

It seemed like an eternity before Nastro finally turned to face her,
bowing his head in acknowledgement. The surgery was finally coming
to an end.

Omra felt relieved the procedure had gone well, and sighed in
pleasure, but her thoughts were interrupted when lights started
flashing, monitor beeps blaring with piercing severity across the
room. The medical technicians frantically went into emergency mode.
The monitor that registered Mulder's heart rate displayed the change
from the normal heart rate to a slower beep until it flat-lined. As
Omra watched, stunned, Nastro pushed the gray away, quickly grabbing
the defibrillator, the grays moving out as Nastro put the paddles
against Mulder's chest. Mulder's body spontaneously jerked on the
table when the jolt of electricity shot through his body, falling
back limply onto the table. Nastro continued this action over and
over until the feint beep of the monitors indicated Mulder's heart
was working once again.

Nastro's anger was obvious, as he abruptly communicated to the
others to move while he finished the delicate operation.

+++

Four months passed since Mulder's operation, a surgery that ended
terribly. For four months, he lay still on his bed; dead to the
world, to time, in a coma that was the cause of an error in
judgement in an attempt to remove DNA from Mulder's brain cell.
Nastro had been able to convince the higher-ups that it was
important for Omra to take care of Mulder, to make sure he stayed
alive. Omra stayed with him day and night, moving him every several
hours to prevent bedsores, changing his IV, giving him baths, as
well as constantly talking to him whether he heard or not. Omra
hoped somewhere in her human friend's unconscious world, Mulder
could hear the words and wanted to come back, his bond of love for
Scully and their unborn child stronger then life or death. At times
Omra would get her hopes up when Mulder showed signs of involuntary
reflexes, mimicking conscious activities. She knew Mulder hated to
be restrained, but there were times when she had no choice, the
times where he would thrash in bed ripping the tubes and IV's.

+++

My teeth are chattering, my skin shaking at the chilled feeling I am
having right now. I feel my body damp with moisture, but yet I feel
almost a calming sensation. My awareness is heightened at a soft
gentle touch of a moist cloth stroking my legs, my thighs. I try to
open my eyes, but they are heavy. I try to open my mouth, to speak,
but my lips are dry and my mouth isn't cooperating. I concentrate
until I can manage my eyes to open, just a little, blinking the
bright lights, until I can open them completely. I see Omra, it
looks like she is bathing me, moving the cloth with such tenderness.

"Omra," I try to say, but the words aren't coming out. I try again
to mouth the words, my dry lips cracking at the movement, "Omra."

She still doesn't hear me. I want to get her attention, but my
hands are strapped, unable to move. I slowly move my fingers and
that slight movement hurts; I feel a stiffness. "Omra."

She stops washing me, I think she hears me, "Omra"

She turns at me, her black oblique eyes widening even more, a smile,
I swear she smiled at me. "Fox!"

She rushes to the head of the bed, stroking my face, moving my hair
off of my face.

"Hair, I have hair," my words are barely audible.

I can hear her chuckle, yes, she is chuckling, "Yes Fox, you have
hair."

"But right before I fell asleep; I saw them shave my head bald, the
doctors shaved my head."

She looks at me silently for a long while, her smile fading away,
"It has grown back, my son."

She steps to the middle of the bed and starts untying the straps,
taking a hold of my hands that don't want to move. She massages
them, trying to get the blood to circulate. Then she steps down to
the end of my bed and does the same to the straps that have my feet
confined. She then takes each foot and gently massages them,
bringing life back into them. "You must be cold, let me dry you.
I was bathing you," she said, picking up a towel and rubbing it
against my legs. I watch her gentle movements, puzzled over her
hesitance at giving me answers.

"Omra, I don't understand, what is going on? I was in surgery. I
remember distinctly the beings shaving my head, then they injected
me with something," I say, the words hard to distinguish. "I'm cold
Omra, so cold"

"Let me cover you, I must get you warm" she tells me, avoiding my
questions.

"What has happened, what have they done to me. I know I didn't
dream them shaving my head," I'm insistent.

She places a couple of blankets over me, then brings me a glass of
water, lifting my head slightly to help me take a sip, "slowly, you
must take small intakes of fluid."

"Omra, I have to go to the bathroom," I tell her feeling my bladder
ready to burst.

"You are much too weak to stand up. You are connected to a
catheter, just release your muscle control. It will take time to
get your strength."

"What do you mean it will take time, I close my eyes, dream that my
head is shaven. I wake up barely able to speak, my body unable to
move and connected to a damn hose to help me urinate, what the hell
is going on?" my voice gets louder, cracking at some of the
words.

Omra turns away, almost trying to avoid my questions, but then
stops, and turns back again, facing me. Her head bows, almost
shameful at what she is about to tell me. "The surgery that was done
on you was a success, in the eyes of my race, but something
terribly wrong happened. Nastro has tried to explain it to me, but
I am not of medical knowledge. Your heart stopped and after several
tries, Nastro brought you back."

I'm confused, my eyes furrowing at Omra's words that are not making
any sense to me. "Brought me back from what?"

"You died on the table, your heart stopped but Nastro was able to
bring you back. This was four months ago."

"What? What are you talking about, four months ago," my mind
disarranged at what she has just told me. I can barely grasp the
concept.

"Fox, you have been in a coma for four months. That is why your
hair has grown back. You have been in a deep sleep state all these
months, as you call them in your human form. A small hole was
drilled in your skull to reach your brain. A needle and syringe
was used to reach the brain cavity. Once the brain cavity was
invaded, cells were removed directly surrounding the part of the
brain that was affected. This procedure was done because the
doctors were trying to find the part of the brain and the DNA that
we know makes you special, the 'active' DNA that all human forms
have, but only a few have it activated. They wanted to extract some
brain cells and analyze them, to figure out how we can make our race
persevere." Omra explains in her monotone voice.

"I have been by your side every moment. I have made sure that you
were fed through your IV, I made sure you were clean by bathing you
every day. I made sure you were turned often so as not to get sores
on your form. I only put the restraints for moments at a time, as
sometimes you moved violently and I was in fear of you hurting
yourself."

"Four months I've..." my voice cracks at the shock. "Scully, the
baby, has..."

"I do not believe that your loved one has had your child, not enough
months have passed. I consulted a calendar and have kept up with
the days as they have passed. It shows that in Earth time, it is
around November, is that the correct word?"

"November, my God, four months have passed, I've been in this place
for 6 months" I state, my voice becoming strained with anger, my
fists clenched in frustration.

"Yes, I am afraid that is so," she tells me. "What day in November
are we in, do you know?" I ask her anxiously.

"It is the end of November. I have been studying human gestation
and it appears that your offspring will be brought into existence
around the end of December, that is the right word, correct?"

I close my eyes and recall the memory of that evening where Scully
and I were sitting on my couch; she telling me all about Daniel. All
the years that had passed between us and all it took was a visit
from her ex-boyfriend to bring us together; all that talk of fate.
It was April, yes April 9th, how can I forget, April 9th when we
conceived.

"Fox, I am going to find Nastro, have him come and examine you. We
must not let any of my race know that you have awaken." She tells me
then worriedly asks, "Do you understand?"

I nod and watch her turn and leave the room. I turn my head and
notice the letter I started writing to Scully; a letter I started
four months ago. It is on the small table next to my bed. I begin
to outstretch my arm, to reach the paper and pencil, but my arm
doesn't move. I can't move it at all. I try to sit up, but I can't
do that either. My eyes fill with tears as I wonder whether they
have left me paralyzed. Within a short time, both Omra and Nastro
walk in, closing the doors behind them.

"This is a most wonderful occurrence, you have waken up from your
long sleep. I must examine you and see how you are," Nastro tells
me, placing his medical satchel on the bed next to me.

"I can't move my arm, my head..." I begin to tell him, but he
ignores me and continues with his examination. He walks to the edge
of the bed and pricks the bottom of my feet; I jerk them slightly.
He smiles.

"You have feeling on your feet, that is a good sign. Remember; you
have been comatose for four long months. Your body has not had any
form of movement. You will need to exercise your body parts, to get
the muscles going again," he explains, moving to my thighs and
slightly pricking them, and they twitch at the touch. He continues
up my body, pricking my arms, and with each jab, a reflex occurs.
"There does not seem to be any permanent damage. This cursory
examination shows that you have feeling on your extremities. You
will be fine. I will give Omra specific instructions for your
rehabilitation. We must work hard, we need to get you up and around
for our plan."

"Why, for more tests?"

"No, to help you escape. We have done an injustice to you and many
Earth people; Omra has shown me this in the time you have been
asleep. She has helped me see the cruelty we have done; not in the
tests, but in taking humans away from their family." The doctor
explains to me, still examining every part of me.

I just look at him, thinking, wanting to ask.

"You have a question for me?" he asks, stopping his ministrations.

"You said I flat-lined. How did I come back? I looked around the
operating room before...before they put me under and what I see is a
lot of things that is used on Earth. Who taught whom?" I ask,
curious.

"Fox, Earth is such a juvenile planet. Do you not know that we have
been around much longer then any living creature on your planet?
How do you think your military has come up with its technology?
Where do you think some of the cures have come from, from
your illnesses and diseases that no longer show a threat to your
human race? It is from us. So you see, Fox, we have brought many
humans on Earth, but they have gone back with more knowledge then
they had when they arrived." He stops talking to me long
enough to check the IV drip and checks the catheter that is in me.

"I hate that thing," I tell him, trying to lighten the conversation.
I realize that if it wasn't for these two beings, I would have been
dead long before-in fact four months ago, but I'm sure Omra caring
for me has convinced her friend that maybe I'm worth saving.

"I am sure you dislike it, but it was either this, or Omra changing
the bedding every time you urinated," he teased. "Now, in the four
months, I have taught Omra how to help you do an extensive regimen,
to help you move the muscles that have not been moved in a long
time. I have also taught her to remove the device from your body.
But, this must be done when you are back on Earth. I'm sure she's
told you why."

I nod again in acknowledgement, in fact that's all I can move.

"I will go and get some substance for you to eat. You must nourish
yourself so we can get you up off the bed. Also, the faster you are
able to move, you can have this taken off of you." He smiled,
holding up the bag of urine.

He left for a short while returning with a silver tray, a plate
filled with food. Unfortunately, the food had not changed, still
the gobbly-goop that was given to me before. "I told them it was
for Omra and myself. They must not know you have waken."
He tells me, the same thing that Omra had mentioned before.

He lowers the tray on the table and walks out of the room, "I must
leave, as they might wonder why I'm here so long. Omra, start
moving his legs as soon as possible." With those last words, he
departs.

Omra approached the head of my bed, looking at me, her now constant
smile on me, "Let's see if you are able to sit up. It will be easier
for you to eat."

"I don't know," I whisper, forcing the words as I try to rise up
from the bed. My body starts shaking, beads of perspiration
dropping down my forehead. That little movement tires me
completely, "I can't." I am dead weight to her small body, but her
strength surpassed mine. She realizes the frustration of my
immobile state.

"Do not worry; it will happen," she says to me, helping me lay back
down, then starts spoon feeding me.

Omra is patient as she waits for me to finish chewing my food; even
my jaw in uncooperative. I finish, she cleans my mouth and then
unhooks the bag of urine taking it to the bathroom, putting a clean
bag back on. "Are you up to starting your rehabilitation?" she asks
me.

I am not sure what this little being has in store for me, but I can
see that Nastro and Omra are determined in helping me leave this
place. I smile in acknowledgement.

She moves the blanket up to my thighs then positions herself at the
foot of my bed. She takes my right foot, massaging my toes, my
arches, my ankles, trying to get some circulation. She takes hold
of my ankle and bends my leg at the knee, pushing my foot as
close to my bottom as she could, then brings my leg back down. I
feel a sharp pain through my leg as the muscles that have not moved
in all these months are now moving. She ignores my groans and
brings my leg back down to the bed, then does it again. I grip
the sides of the bed with every pull and push of my leg. She does
it about 10 times and then goes to my other leg to repeat the same
procedure. She then moves to my arms and does the same thing,
stretching my arm and then bending it at the elbow then raising it
over my head, ten times in one arm and then ten times on the other.
I watch this little being work hard, an intense stare on her face.

"Omra, take it easy, you know, it does hurt." She ignores me and
continues.

After about an hour of exerted regimen she finally finishes. "I
apologize for hurting you, but this must be done. We will do this
again in a couple of hours. While you were comatose, Nastro taught
me many things for your survival. I did this regimen often, but I
must admit that I was getting discouraged. We have your escape well
mapped out and when you are able, we will proceed. You must try
very hard to get well soon, as our next journey to Earth will be in
4 days."

<cont in part 11>
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Feedback welcomed at corrinels@socal.rr.com
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@

<cont from part 10>

Getting Back - (11-15)
Disclaimer on Section 1
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@

"Four days?" I ask her, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I
suddenly realize that I may be going home.

"Yes. This is the time we have decided to help you escape." She
moves to the corner of the room; bending down, stretching her long
arm behind the small cabinet to pull out a satchel. She approaches
me, placing it on the bed, opening it up. "Nastro has brought me
all the equipment that I need to remove the tracking device.
Although I am not a medical technician, he has instructed me on the
procedure," she says, pulling out a long silver cylinder rod.

"Omra, please don't tell me that thing is going in me, and if so,
just where are you planning on sticking it in?" my face paling at
the thought.

"You pick one," she teases.

"How about none," I adamantly respond.

"Well, unfortunately it has to be one, and it's not the cavity that
you intake your substance."

I twitch uncomfortably, my stomach clenching and fluttering,
thinking about how many times I've been probed and jabbed. She
returns the rod back in and walks it back to it's hiding place.

"What if I am still not ambulatory in four days?" I ask her.

"This is not open for discussion. It is a must that we move you
that day. If you are not ambulate, you will have to stay in this
spaceship for a very long time. Our next scheduled trip to Earth
will not be for another year, that is 12 months, correct?"

That last bit of information has worried me, especially as parts of
my body still feel numb. Within the hour Omra is back again, never
showing any bit of exhaustion, her mission at hand, helping me get
my health back.

"Omra, what if I didn't wake up from my coma in four days, would I
have stayed here for another year?" I ask her.

"No, Nastro and I were going to remove you somehow from the ship.
We had plans for that as well. It would have been very dangerous
and if caught, we would all be exterminated. So we are very grateful
that you have awaken. Now concentrate in each movement," she tells
me, pushing my legs back and forth, massaging them.

I'm too excited to go to sleep. How can I be sleepy after four
months of hibernation? After 24 hours of on-and-off-therapy, I'm
able to move my arms slightly, but at least I'm able to scratch my
nose. "Omra, can you hand me the letter I started four months ago?"
She stops her massages and gives me the pad of paper and pencil.

I glance at the material I had written and it saddens me to think
that so much time has passed. But somehow the news that Omra has a
plan to release me has given me hope. I get the notepad and begin to
write:

'Scully, I have been in a coma-state for four months, a total of six
months away from you. The fact that I have missed most of your
pregnancy and have not had the opportunity to watch your stomach
blossom is tormenting me. I wish I were with you. I was completely
disabled when I woke up, but with the complete persistence of my
alien friend, she says that I will be able to see you in less then a
week. I am trying very hard to get my strength back because if I
don't succeed, I am afraid that I will never see you again. My
eidetic mind remembers the words you told me last year, let me
paraphrase them here for you. ' You're not suppose to die, not
here!' Then you told me something I have never forgotten, '...you
must get up. You must get up and fight. You...most of all. This is
not your place, get up Mulder, fight your fight' I am fighting
Scully, I will give it all I can to be with you in less then a
week.'

I put the pencil down, my stomach churning with excitement and also
the danger that will befall us if we make an error in judgement.

I pull the covers off of my body and try to move my legs. Although
still feeling stiff, I can move them. I hold the bag full of urine
and slide myself to the border of the bed, swinging my legs slowly,
over the edge. I stand up slowly gripping on to the mattress so
as not to lose my balance. My legs wobble at my weight and I feel a
tinge of nausea. 'This is not a good idea,' I say out loud.

"What the..." Omra shouts, as she appears from the bathroom.

I jump at her shrieking voice and drop the bag of urine onto the
floor. "I liked it better when I couldn't hear you, when you didn't
have a voice...you startled me." say loudly looking down at the
puddle on the floor.

"You could have waited for me to help you. Now who is going to
clean that mess on the floor?" she asks angrily, going back into the
bathroom. She returns in seconds with a wet cloth "You could have
also ripped the catheter out of you."

With those last words, I cringe at the thought of the extra pain I
would have had.

"And where were you planning on going?" she asks, bending down to
clean up the urine off the floor. I feel bad that I have created a
new mess for her to deal with.

"To the bathroom to..." then I realize the brainless idea I had. 'How
could I pee with this thing in me, "You made your point, now what?"
I ask, urine dripping down my leg and onto the floor.

She gets off the floor and walks back to the bathroom to dispose of
the cloth, returning quickly. "Don't move, I'm going to get Nastro."

"I think that's a great idea, I'll just stand right here."

I see her stomp out of the room, visualizing the fumes coming out of
those tiny little slit she has for ears, ready to kill me for my
stubbornness. I think the best thing I could do right now is just
be as still as I can and wait for the repercussion I am about to
have from Nastro.

The door opens to my room, Nastro and Omra enter together and walk
toward me, Nastro has his hands pressed against his small waist, I
gather he is not in a good mood.

"You are very incorrigible, what if you would have fallen and
damaged yourself more. We have a timetable here to follow." With
those words, he forces me back to bed and with brute force, he pulls
the catheter out from within me, a cold chilled pain is filled
through my body. I try to hold my breath so I won't let out a
scream.

"There goes the gold star I was going to give you on your great
bedside manner," I say through clench teeth. I know I have to keep
quiet; I can't let anyone know on the ship I've come out of my coma.
"I guess I had this coming to me, sorry," is all I could say
through my gasps.

"I should make you finish cleaning your mess," Nastro snorts
angrily. "You are disrupting our carefully prepared escape plans by
your foolish actions. Now that you are free of the catheter, let me
help you to the bathroom.

Omra and Nastro take a hold of my arm on each side of me. I take
each step slowly until I reach the bathroom.

"Can I take a shower?" I ask them both. They both look at me and
seem to agree. Omra walks to the shower, then turns on the water,
adjusting it to how I like it.

"You need to be careful that you do not fall. You must make it
quick before you tire." Nastro instructs.

I step in the shower holding onto the wall for support. I let the
spray of the showerhead hit against my body. It feels so good to
feel clean, but at the same time the water weakens me. I feel the
blood rush down and I feel faint. "Help!" is all I could yelp as I
slip to the floor.

The two beings open the curtain; helping me out of the shower,
toweling me down and helping me walk back to the bed.

"You will not pull this stunt again," Nasto says with anger.

"Not to worry, I'll never do that again," I tell them, my eyes
closing with exhaustion. "Now, is it possible for me to take a
nap?"

Two days pass rapidly and my therapy is not going as quickly as I
would like it to be. I could feel the two grays are nervous at what
they are planning on doing but they don't confide in me what those
plans are. Today, the day before the attempt escape, the two are
coming in and out of my room, both sitting at the far end discussing
and planning. Nastro takes the satchel that Omra had shown me
earlier, the one that contained the equipment to remove the device.
Omra is very attentive at all Nastro is telling her, watching him
holding the rod in his hand. Every once in awhile they turn to
look at me and then go back to their conversations. At times I feel
they are disagreeing with something; almost upset with each other,
or maybe it's a worried look. I turn my head, facing the small
table and see my letter to Scully, and all I can think about now is
that this plan has to work.

I have lost track of day or night; I rely on my body sensing that it
must be time to rest. I then close my eyes, hoping to restore any
energy that I might have in me for my breakout.

+ + +

"I don't know, Omra, I cannot let you do this on your own. What if
you are unable to return to the ship? And if you are able, what
will you say about the missing prisoner?" Nastro communicates to
Omra telepathically so Mulder will not hear their conversation.

"You know I must do this. If they take my life form, then it must
be, but I will not go back on my word. I have discussed this with
you many times now," Omra replies, looking at Mulder, then back to
Nastro. "He is asleep now, that is good, he needs his
rest."

Nastro turns his head toward Mulder, then back to Omra, "Then, I
will go with you, to make sure you will be alright and that you will
come back to me. I cannot bear to be without you. You have taught
me so much in these last months."

"No, I cannot let you do that. If they have any idea that you are
with me on this, they will truly destroy you. You have much at
stake here."

"To do what? To give torturous tests to these humans that we take
away from the security of their homes and the warmth of loved ones.
I would prefer to live like the humans do, in a world where the
balance of life is not always tested, or feared." Nastro conveys to
Omra, closing the metallic box. We have the plans now, there is
nothing else we can do except wait for the appropriate time. It is
best to do this when darkness is still upon us. I will come to you
at that time and we will proceed." With those last words, Nastro
stands up from the corner where they were checking the medical
instruments and firearms if they were needed. "We will
succeed...for him and for us."

Omra watches her best friend walk out-she knows the fear that must
be in him. She feels the same fear. When she had first thought of
the escape, she had no one, she didn't care if her life was extinct,
but now she views Nastro in a different light, and not coming
back to him would be devastating. But she made a promise, and a
promise is a promise. She stands up and walks over to where Mulder
is sleeping. She pushes the lose strands of hair from his face.
She moves the collar of his hospital gown and carefully picks up the
gold cross that has never been taken off. She smiles, and then
covers him up, walking to a nearby chair to rest, as the following
day might be her last.

+ + +

Space, darkness and time were a continuous motion, always ebony for
them. Landing on Earth always brought the lightness of the day, but
for the moment, it was the middle of the night when they chose to
descend. The spacecraft silently hovered over the familiar trees
of Oregon. Tall trees ferociously oscillating from the energy of
the ship. A bright orange-red beam of light radiated the night sky.
The ship wavered back and forth, hovering for a perfect moment to
land. They would stay quiet, covering the ship with a protected
force field until daybreak. At which time the mission at hand would
be followed, more humans captured for their own survival.

The door to Mulder's chamber's opens and Nastro dressed in military
attire, walks in after taking one last glance at the hallway. He
sees Omra nestled comfortably on the chair, close to Mulder's bed,
one arm resting on Mulder's leg. Nastro quietly moves closer to
Omra, gently placing his long-fingered hand over Omra's shoulder.
He doesn't want to startle her, or wake Mulder up. They first
needed to talk. Omra's stirred slightly at the touch, looking up at
Nastro, then down at his garments.

"Why do you have your military garb on?" she asks.

"You are not to go alone. I will go with you, and if you don't make
it back, we both will not come back. Now it's time to wake him up,
this has to be done with exact precision."

Omra's chest felt heavy, and she wondered why, since there was no
such thing as emotions or feelings, but yet she was feeling them
with more intensity. But stranger feelings had happened little by
little, from years back when she was Samantha's guard and now with
this young man that she knew suffered for much too long. She stood
up from her comfortable position on the chair and with a tender
touch she woke Mulder up.

+ + +

"Is it time?" I ask Omra, my eyes heavy with sleep.

"It is time, let me help you get up," she tells me as she clasps my
arm with her fingers. I slowly move my stiffened legs over the edge
of the bed. I look across the room and see Nastro with a shiny
silver outfit that I've become accustomed to seeing on the military
guards. "Why is he dressed like that?" I ask Omra softly.

"He is going to help me get you out," she tells me. I can tell that
this is not her choice, but she has accepted the decision.

"Do not move, I do not want you to fall if you are still weak." She
walks over to the metallic box and opens it up. She pulls something
out of the box, but I'm unable to see as her back is toward me. She
turns around and on her hands are my clothes, the same clothes that
I had on that May day when I was taken.

"I don't think it would be wise to run in this hospital gown. Scoot
onto the floor and let me help you put your garments." She tells me,
setting the clothes on the bed, then stretching her hand out to me
to steady my shaking body.

"My boxers, I can wear underwear again," I smile. "This 'flapping
in the breeze' for six months was not my choice." I tease. I make
light of the situation, knowing that in a short while, none of us
could be alive, but I have to fight, as Scully said to me last year.
Omra hands me my blue jeans and my black T-shirt and zipped up
jacket. I put the clothing on the bed, taking the jeans first. I
bend down to start putting them on and another wave of dizziness
hits, 'this is not good' I think to myself, but I don't tell her.
She is much too smart and sees the green tinge to my face.

"Let me help you," she says as she takes the jeans and bends down,
helping me put in one leg at a time. She pulls up my pants and I
can see I've lost a lot of weight.

"The gown might be more appropriate, as these might fall off if we
have to run," I joke. I take the T-shirt and jacket and pull them
on. Omra bends down, lifting each foot gently, sliding my socks
over my feet and putting my tennis shoes on, 'I'm ready'.

"I need to go to the bathroom," I tell them, walking slowly toward
the bathroom, holding on to anything I can touch. I go in there for
the last time, I hope, and take one last glance into the mirror. My
face feels older, although I know six months doesn't change one's
appearance that much, but I feel it. I have a couple days stubble
on my face and my hair is shoulder-length. I could easily slip in to
a Woodstock concert, oh yes, but Scully said I wasn't there. I take
care of nature and wash my hands and face, then slowly turn and
leave the room for my last time. I look at both of them and take a
big sigh and say; "I'm ready."

<cont in part 12>
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@
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<cont from part 11>

Getting Back - (12-15)
Disclaimer on Section 1
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@

"They are all in the chambers; it is time for their slumber. There
are guards stationed in sections of the ship, so we must be very
careful," Nastro says, watching Omra putting the equipment from the
metallic box into a black colored satchel. "Can you walk on your
own?" he asks me.

"Yes," I respond, taking each step carefully, feeling the shaking of
my legs.

Omra put her hand on the mechanism--the door opens to an empty
hallway. She walks slowly, peering both ways, right and then left,
then turns to give us a sign to follow. Nastro throws the satchel
over his shoulder and takes hold of my left arm, Omra taking a
hold of my right as we pass her. If an alien discovered us, their
plan was to say I had woken up from my coma and was being taken to
the infirmary. My heart was beating over-time, I couldn't control
my thoughts, the anticipation of going home occupies most of my
thinking process.

The sleeping chambers were on the top section of the ship. We needed
to walk fast, but my legs weren't cooperating. We walk through

sections I had not seen before continuous white halls. We passed
open door rooms that were brightly lit, with a hazy luminosity
from indirect sources in the walls; the atmosphere dank, cool and
foul smelling. We walk near the eating area where I remember we
congregated to have our breaks. "Teresa, where is Teresa?" I ask.

Omra didn't have to say anything; she bowed her head to let me know
that Teresa had lost the battle, "She did not want to live anymore.
We did nothing to terminate her existence, she took her own."

Before I had a chance to respond to this news, I felt a strong push
into my side, causing me to fall into a side room, pain radiating
through my already weakened body. I hit the floor with a thud. I
got up slowly, trying to steady myself against the wall. As I took
a pace toward the doorframe I saw one of the tall guards talking to
Nastro and Omra so I ducked out of his vision, but kept an eye on my
friends. Their arms were animated, gesturing to the way we had jut
left, obviously they trying to distract the guard with false
truths.

They were there for a couple of minutes, before the taller guard
finally walked away. Omra rushed in the room, "I apologize for
having to do this, but we..."

"I understand Omra, that was close," I replied to her, following her
back into the hall. "Isn't there a shorter way out of here, maybe a
back way?"

"Unfortunately there is not, we must hurry," Nastro said, "I was
just informed that I will be needed today for surgery. They are
going to start their abductions sooner and they are planning to
bring in about 10 previous abductees. He is on his way to get the
patrol ready."

We walk faster, both of the grays surveying the area, looking from
side to side. We get to one of the operating rooms that I was
taken, a renewed sense of anger hits me, but I must learn to put
this aside, I am going to be free.

Everything would have been fine if we hadn't had to walk by the
glassed--room. I remember seeing it when I was being wheeled to one
of my sperm extraction procedures; the room that had the small
child-like hybrids. I know that time was of the essence, but I
had to stop this time. There are small beds on one side of the
room, and all the little children are sleeping. One of the small
hybrids that appeared to be about 4 years old sees me and gets up

off of its bed. The child approaches the window. She looks just
like a human being, a red headed, green-eyed beautiful little girl,
her big eyes glaring at me. 'Scully,' I whisper as I put my right
hand up against the glass. The child looks at me, then my hand and
raises her hand to touch mine through the glass. I gasp and take an
unexpected step back as I see her four elongated fingers on the
glass. An instant emotion comes over me, almost a sick feeling in
the pit of my stomach when I see this child, so normal, and yet, not
completely. I then think about the sperm that was taken from me.

"How many of my children will be caged in areas like this?" I demand
angrily, my eyes filling with unexpected tears. Omra stops for a
second to look at the child before me. The little girl watches my
sadness and the tear that escapes me. I try to conceal my
feelings, but she knows. She removes her hand from the glass and
holds it before her eyes, looking at her elongated fingers, then she
looks down at mine. Her eyes fill with tears as she gives me one
last sad look and returns to her bed.

"We have no time, we must hurry," Nastro insists, pulling my arm to
continue our walk to freedom. Omra stays back for a second, taking
one last look at the child. She looks at me oddly.

We step onto a moving ramp that descends to a floor beneath the one
we were on, "We are close," Nastro states.

I can feel my heart beating fast against my ribs, the envision of
freedom, the anticipation of seeing Scully, the excitement of
placing my hand on her stomach, feeling our child move beneath my
embrace. After a few more corridors we see the door. We are just
feet away; I could literally taste my freedom. Nastro reaches out to
open the small
compartment.

My mind goes back to the hybrids in that room and I have to ask,
"How many children will you produce through the sperm that you have
taken from me?" He does not answer but I see Omra looking oddly at
me again. I have to stop thinking of that right now and focus on
our escape. I see the 15 small white buttons. I panic, wondering
if he knows the combination to the mechanism.

"Nastro, I want you to open the door and take Fox with you. There
is something I must do," Omra says quietly.

"What are you saying, you must not go back, it is much too dangerous
and it is nearly time for the guards to leave their quarters."
Nastro replies anxiously.

I grab her arm, "Omra, what are you talking about, you have been my
only companion, my survival is because of you, you can't leave me,"
I tell her.

"My son, there is one last thing I must do. Nastro will take good
care of you as I did through your incarceration. Let me go now so I
can return as soon as I can." And with her last words, she scurried
back through the corridor we had just exited.

In the months that I was confined I saw the changes in these beings,
the more I saw them, the more I saw expressions develop in them. I
could now discern the pain that Nastro was in as he watched Omra
disappear. Nastro pressed the buttons on the console and the
door opened. I could feel the coldness of the air as it hit my
lungs and it was a wonderful moving air. A still very dark, I could
see the beauty of the trees, and silently cheered as the slight mist
sprinkled against my face. Just two steps and I would step on
tierra firma, just two steps.

With this last thought, Nastro and I took those steps and all hell
broke loose, a loud piercing sound reverberated against the walls,
strobe lights flashing red and yellow.

"You must run, they have found us out," Nastro hollered, grabbing my
arm and taking those steps to Earth. My legs were weak, but I
couldn't let them betray me, I had to run for my life. We ran and
ran until we found an open area in the forest, among the tree's
we found an opening to a cave.

"Omra, do you think they captured her?" I ask, breathing heavy, the
piercing cold wind hitting me.

"I do not know. Fox, we must remove the device from within you
quickly. They know that there was an escape. They will go to the
control panel and start checking, we have little time," he pants,
throwing the satchel to the ground, opening it up and taking that
silver cylinder out. "I had shown Omra to do this, but I guess it
will be I. Take off your clothes, QUICKLY," he instructs firmly.

I had been nude and violated so many times in the last 6 months that
this didn't even bother me, especially as I knew that this time
would be the final time. I strip off my jeans and boxers and lay on
my back on the cold rocky ground. I bend my knees and plant my

feet firmly on the ground. I look up at the crevices on the rocky
cave, graffiti written on the walls, most likely from juveniles,
playing in these dark pits. I try to occupy my mind, anything to
take my mind off of what Nastro is about to do.

"There is a magnet at the end of this rod that will attach itself to
the tracking device. Now, take a deep breath as I insert this. It
will not be pleasant."

"That is the biggest understatem..." I start to say as I feel the
hard rounded rod go up my rectum. I hold my breath, trying
desperately not to yell. The pain is excruciating as I
feel the rod move from side to side.

"I am very sorry, under better circumstances I would be able to see
through a monitor where I am to move this, but right now I am just
guessing." He says to me, as if that is going to assure me. Then I
feel a snap, and I see him smile. He pulls the rod out slowly,
and at the end is the small computer chip attached to the magnet.
He picks up a rock and slams it against the chip, it breaking it
many pieces.

"We must leave this place as they will track the last place this
chip was at," he says to me urgently.

I try to sit up, but my rectum is burning. I slowly lift my boxers
and jeans back on and stand wincing as the pain moved through me.

"Give me the device," I tell him. We step out of the cave and I
throw it as far as I can, up toward the trees, hoping it would lodge
on a branch. He picks up the satchel and takes a hold of my arm as
we leave the cave. I look back for a second and see many beings
coming out of the ship, weapons in hand. I hold tightly the pit of
my stomach hoping the pain would go away. I feel wetness and I know
I'm bleeding, but I can't stop. I'm so close to freedom.

+ + +

There is a lot of confusion, guards running through the corridors,
all carrying their laser weapons. Omra tries to get to her
destination. She first decides to go back to Mulder's chambers, to
see if they've already discovered of his disappearance. She
hesitates at first, worried that she'll be found out and forced to
tell all, but she will not. She walks in the chambers that was
Mulder's home for six months. A melancholy feeling washes over
her, but she knows that what they did to her human friend was not
right. She walks to the bed and looks at the little table-the
letter. Mulder had left the letter he wrote to Scully. Omra picks
it up, folds it and stuffs it into the pocket of her uniform. She
leaves the room and heads to the place that she needs to go. She
opens the door and walks in, and approaches the guard sitting in the
front.

"What is your business here, Omra?" he asks.

"Nastro has given me instructions to pick up the vial of sperm from
my prisoner. They are ready to use the contents."

Without a word, the guard stands up, opening the door to the
refrigerated bank. Within minutes he returns holding 4 vials of
cloudy white liquid.

"Thank you for your help." Omra takes the vials and places them in
her other pocket and starts heading for the exit.

"Omra, there has been an escape in one of the chambers. There is
chaos everywhere and we are unable to find out at this moment which
prisoner it was," the leader informs Omra, "Is your prisoner still
comatose?"

"Yes, he is. I do not believe that he will come out of it soon.
What is it that you want me to do?" Omra asks.

"You must leave your post and take your weapon and join the guards
to search for the escapee."

"Would you like for me to go to Earth with the others?" Omra asked,
hoping the answer would be yes.

"At once, yes, go."

+ + +

"Nastro, you need to get back to the ship and save Omra," I tell
him, panting for air as we are running through the trees.

"I promised Omra that I would keep you safe, and that is what I must
do."

We continue running, the wet ground soaking my tennis shoes. I
don't think that Nastro feels temperatures because he isn't
complaining. I turn my head and see the beings getting closer, a
laser beam hitting against the tree, we both fall to the ground, a
branch falling between us. We get up and start running again.
Every inch of my body hurts and I don't know how much more my legs
can carry me. I feel the heat of another laser beam hit the tree
next to us, a spark of fire hitting my arm. I stop, brushing away
quickly the hot embers that have made a hole through my jacket and
are now burning my arm.

"There, straight ahead, I see a cabin about 100 yards in front of
us, we have to reach it," I yell at Nastro.

"You continue on; go to the structure, save yourself. I will lose
them," Nastro says to me. I look at him, concerned about his
eminent death if he returns. Right before my eyes, I see a mirror
image of myself; Nastro has shape-shifted to my body. He will lose
them while I run to safety. I can't believe these beings, they
risked their life for me and now they are willing to end it for me.
I take a step forward and take him to my arms.

"Please take care of yourself, and please find Omra for me. Tell
her I love her. Tell her I'll keep her in my thoughts for the rest
of my life." I tell him, my voice cracking at the pain I feel and
the knot in my throat. I watch Nastro running the opposite way,
weaving in and out of the trees, trying hard to make the beings
follow him. I am in so much pain, my arm burning for the ember that
hit my arm, my legs feel like led, and the procedure that was done
in the cave was not making me feel any better, but I needed to put
the pain aside and head toward that cabin.

Within minutes I reach the cabin, a solitary structure surrounded by
pine trees all the way around. I have no idea what time it is, but
it must be late. I look through the window and see an old oak
grandfather clock; it's 4:30 in the morning. I pound on the door
over and over again, looking at the bright light in the horizon.
The light turns on in one of the rooms and the curtain is opened
from behind the window.

"Please, help me, please. I'm a federal agent and I need help," I

shout.

"Let me see your I.D," the elderly lady asks me.

"I don't have it, please I'm telling the truth," I desperately
plead.

"Call my partner, call her, please," I beg.

She closes the drapes and I feel lost.

So close but yet so far.

I look again at the horizon where I can still see the orange light
of the spacecraft. I am about to turn away from the cabin, knowing
that I have lost the fight, when I am thrown to the ground, a loud
explosion ripping through the forest. A huge fireball bursting up
as high as the eye could see. "Omra, Nastro," I yell.

I can't hold my emotions anymore. Everything has hit me at the same
time. My return to Earth, the loss of Nastro and the alien who
literally saved my life, Omra. I will always be grateful to them,
they risked their lives for me and they are now dead. My eyes fill
with
tears and I start to sob. I'm lying on the ground in a ball, crying
like a baby when I feel an arms embrace me.

"What was that explosion" I heard a voice say to me. I look up into
the eyes of an elderly lady, who has taken me into her arms, "Son, I
believe you, come on in." She helps me get up, I stagger into the
house and fall on her couch, exhausted and in pain.

"The phone, please I need to call my partner."

The elderly lady walks to the other room then comes back with a
cordless phone and hands it to me.

My fingers are shaking, I can't believe I am calling her. My
fingers punch the numbers one number at a time. The phone rings,
once, twice, three times, I don't even realize I'm holding my
breath.

"Scully," she says half asleep.

At the sound of her voice I start to cry, my words are trapped in my
mouth, and I can't say anything.

"This is Scully, who is this?"

"It's me Scully, this is Mulder."

<cont in part 13>
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Feedback welcomed at corrinels@socal.rr.com
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<cont from part 12>

Getting Back (13-15)
Disclaimer on Section 1
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@

There was silence for what felt like an eternity, then a very faint
response, "Mulder, is it...is it really you?" her hopeful voice
barely above a whisper. "My God...my God, where are you?"

Hearing the slight catch to her voice, Mulder closed his eyes,
relief washing over him. "I'm back in Oregon...I...think." Mulder
spoke softly, his hands beginning to shake as the realization that
he really was back on Earth, and listening to Scully's familiar
voice, completely overwhelmed him. The adrenaline rush from the
escape now drained from him and he slumped wearily onto a chair.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Her questions came furiously one
right after another.

"I'm okay, at least I am now. Scully, I missed you so much," his
voice quivered as he held the handset tightly to his ear with both
hands, afraid that if he didn't hold it tight, she would disappear,
he would disappear.

"Tell me where you are, Mulder. I have to send Skinner to get you, I
can't trav..." she began to say.

"I know Scully, I know why you can't come for me," he replied, his
voice low.

"What do you mean you know?"

"You can't fly right now, because...because...you are pregnant,
carrying our child." He mumbled, the thickness in his throat
unveiling his emotion to her.

Mulder could hear small sniffles transmitting through the phone
line, proclaiming through the silence that Scully was trying hard to
remain strong but was failing "But how did...how do you know?"
Scully sobbed. "If you only knew Mulder what I've been through, what
your disappearance has done to me, especially at a time like this."

"That's not important right now. There will be plenty of time.
Scully, tell Skinner I'm at...wait let me ask." He said, moving the
receiver away from his ear and turning to the elderly lady who was
kind enough to let him in.

"My address is 1123 Limberlost."

"What city are we in?" Mulder asked.

The woman raised her eyebrows and looked him up and down, "Son, you
really don't know where you're at, do you? You are in Bellefleur,
Oregon."

Mulder put the receiver back to his ear and gave Scully the address.

"I'll call Skinner right now, Mulder...I...I missed you so much."

"I've missed you too, Scully, so very much. You have no idea," he
whispered, "Tell Skinner to hurry, bye" and he hung up the phone
before the tears that threatened to fall were obvious to her.

+ + +

Scully heard the click of the phone, but she didn't want to return
it to its cradle, afraid that if she lost any connection with the
handset he would vanish again. This wasn't a dream; it couldn't be
a dream. She looked around the room, touching her face, her

swollen stomach, making sure that she was awake...yes, she was
awake. Wiping away the tears from her cheeks, she pressed the
connection button and stabbed the quick dial to Skinner's home
number.

'It's 8:00 in the morning, Skinner, you can't still be asleep.
Answer the phone' Scully thought to herself, her fingernails tapping
nervously against the phone.

She sighed in relief when he answered on the tenth ring, "Skinner,"
came his voice, groggy with sleep, "Skinner."

"Sir, it's Scully," she blurted, unable to hide the emotions.

"Scully, what's the matter, is the baby alright?" Skinner asked
quickly. Scully could hear the thin whispery sounds of sheets
sliding away from his body, as though he was changing position on
his bed.

"I'm fine Sir, I am more fine than I've ever been. I just received
a phone call right now, Sir. It's Mulder, he's...he's back, Sir.
He's come back to me." Scully said, trying desperately not to lose
her composure.

"Mulder is back, where, when?" Skinner asked, bouncing off the bed,
"But how?"

"Sir, he says he's okay, but his voice sounded weary and tense,
which indicates to me that he isn't ok. You know I can't travel, you
need to go get him and bring him back to me," she explained to him,
giving him the complete address of his location.

"He's back where he vanished?" Skinner asked, astonished.

"Yes he is, and Sir, he knows about the baby."

"But how?" Skinner asked.

"I don't know Sir, it's Mulder, he will never cease to amaze me.
How soon can you leave, Sir?"

"I'm getting ready as we speak. I'll have him back with you before
nightfall." Skinner said, hanging up the phone, picking up his
clothes and hurrying to the shower to get ready.

+ + +

"Son, you don't look very well, why don't you come with me," the
elderly lady says to me, taking the handset away from my clenched
fist, returning it to its cradle. I look up, my face feeling years
older, my exhaustion finally taking over.

"No, I don't feel well at all. Ma'am, I really appreciate you taking
me in. You are nice to take a chance on a stranger." I tell her,
holding her small wrinkled papery hand within mine.

"Son, I am 70 years old, and I think by now I know how to read
people. And you, my boy, you have the face of an angel, a boy that
has suffered a lot. My name is Ruth, and yours?"

"Fox, Fox Mulder," I reply, smiling wearily.

"Fox, now that's an unusual name, but I like. Okay, Fox, son, let's
get you up to the bedroom. You need to sleep and I'm sure you are
starving. And by the look of those pants, practically falling off
your hips, I assume you haven't had a good nourishing meal in a long
time." Ruth says, helping me off the couch, taking me by my arm and
escorting me to the nearest bedroom in her small cabin. "Let me
take off your jacket. By the looks of the hole on your jacket, you
must have burned your arm on the explosion," she offers, "Now let's
remove your shoes."

I grimace for a second, recalling that in the last 6 months, I had
been bathed, changed and fed by everyone and everything other than
myself, "Thank you, I do need help."

Ruth gently removes my jacket, "My dear, boy, you are badly burned
on your arm. Let me see if I have anything to fix you up," she
finishes, picking up my legs, helping me move them onto the bed. I
sigh in contentment as I lay myself out fully on the very soft
mattress and pull the comforter up to my neck. At this moment I
feel the safest I have in the past 6 months. Ruth continues to fuss
around me, and I let myself enjoy it.

"I'll be okay, I just need to sleep. Ruth, before you leave, you
need to call the police about the fireball, the explosion that
happened in the distance," I say, my voice already starting to slur
with exhaustion.

"Oh, Fox, that is such a natural occurrence in these parts that I
tend to ignore them. Funny thing; some folks around here insist
they are flying saucers. I don't know, I think they are just kids

playing with matches. But if you feel like I should, I will. Let
me get you a wet cloth to wash that burned area on your arm." She
begins, and I didn't hear the rest of her sentence as I drift off to
sleep.

+ + +

"Son, wake up. You're having a bad nightmare," Ruth insists, gently
shaking me awake. "I was in the other room and I heard your creams.
They must have done horrible things to you, for you to be in such a
fearing state."

I gasp, sitting up so quickly that I almost knocks Ruth to the
floor, "I'm sorry, I was having a nightmare."

"What did they do to you, boy?" she asks me again, picking up the
wet rag from the table, wiping the perspiration from my drenched
forehead.

I don't say anything, just lay there, relaxing into the gentle touch
of this caring, elderly woman. "What time is it?" I ask, ignoring
her question, looking around for a clock.

"It's about 9:00 in the morning." Ruth says, cleaning the area
around the burn, "Now, I'm not a meddling old lady, but from the
conversation you were having with the person on the other end of the
line, it seems they are more than a friend."

I look at Ruth, giving her a smile, "She...Dana, has been my partner
with the FBI for the last seven years, and yes, she's more than my
partner."

"Did she tell you when she's coming to pick you up?" Ruth asks,
wrapping my arm with gauze.

"Dana won't be coming, just our boss. I don't really know. But
between flying time and the time change, I would suspect this
evening," I tell her, watching her as she delicately took care of my
wound.

"Why don't you wash up, while I make you some breakfast," Ruth says,
standing up from the bed, "The bathroom is down the hall to your
right, second door."

"Breakfast, I haven't had a decent meal in six months." I get up
from the bed, heading out of the bedroom, stopping by the doorframe,
"Ruth, don't make a big breakfast. I don't think it would be a wise
idea since for the last six months, I've not been eating well. I
might upchuck it all."

I walk to the bathroom, closing the door behind me, locking it,
relieved that finally I have some privacy. For six months I was
stripped of not only my clothes, but also my dignity. I step in
front of the mirror, looking at my drawn face. Although, Omra must
have kept me shaven, I had a few days of stubble. I lift up my
nearly shoulder-length lank hair, laughing at the thought of what
Scully was going to say.

I want to take a shower, but Ruth's Florence Nightingales' handy
work was going to prevent me getting my arm wet. I decide I could
maneuver myself around the shower so that Ruth won't think I don't
appreciate her kindness. I remove my T-shirt, dropping it on the
floor, then attempt to unbutton my jeans. I realize what Ruth had
meant about my baggy pants. I must have lost quite a bit of weight
during the time I was comatose. I stroke the skin at my chest,
noting that my ribs are prominent. I shudder to think what I
look like as a whole, as I can only see my face in the mirror. I
step into the shower, feeling the hot water hit my face; my body, it
feels so good. I take the bar of soap, smelling its pine scent,
lathering it in my hands, then rubbing it on my chest. I do the
best I can bathe without getting my arm wet. I must make a point
that when I get home; a very long shower will be one of the first
things I do. Well, after I hold Scully tightly to me for an
eternity that is!!!

After about 15 minutes, I walk in the kitchen, wonderful aroma of
bacon wafting around me. My plate was on the table waiting for me;
bacon and eggs, home-style potatoes and biscuits, with a tall glass
of orange juice.

"Ruth, you have no idea how good this looks." I tell her, my mouth
salivating.

"Sit and eat as much as you want, but start slowly, we don't want to
frighten your stomach. From what I could see from your clothes, you
need a lot of fattening up."

After two platefuls of food, I head back to the living room glancing
around, absorbing the beauty of her nicely decorated house. She
follows me to the living room, watching my every movement. I look at
the television then turn to her, "Can I watch some t.v?" I ask
her.

I am amused by her chuckle as she hands me the remote control. I
can see that she doesn't understand. I am merely savoring my life,
my freedom. I settle down into the overstuffed couch, rest my long
legs on the footstool that Ruth has placed in front of me, and enjoy
the sensation of relaxing with a full belly while sleepily watching
some local basketball match on the t.v.

Ruth sits next to me and begins to watch the game; "You like
basketball?" I ask her.

"I had to learn to like every sport imaginable. My sons played every
sport invented by man. My husband, God rest his soul, was one of
those devoted dads who attended all their games. So, either I
joined them, or I was left behind doing the womanly things, and
son, that was not my style. I was way ahead of my time. I was not
one of those women about to stay home, barefoot and pregnant.

Nope, I was out there rooting for my boys, and yelling foul words at
the opponents."

I laugh out loud at her story, "Ruth, if you only knew how good it
feels to laugh. It's been a very long time," I tell her, almost
jealous of the close-knit harmony that she must have created with
her sons and her husband. "Family activities is something I missed
while growing up."

"Oh, I don't believe that," she responds to me, scooting up closer
to take my hand. "I'm sure your parents did the same thing."

"No, Ruth, not all parents are like that. Don't get me wrong, my
parents loved me in their own sort of way. Your sons are very
lucky."

They have blessed me in may ways. In fact, they've given me 10
grandchildren," Ruth smiles fondly, getting up and walking to the
chimney mantle to pick up a photograph she had in an antique frame.
"This is the whole family," she says with a proud smile.

"Beautiful family. Ruth, does your family live in this town?" I ask
her, admiring the family photo.

"About an hour away. My husband and I moved up here about 10 years
ago. Although we love our kids and their kids, it was time for my
husband and I to spend our last years together, alone. Just like
the beginning when we first met. My husband passed away about six
months ago," she says to me as she sits back down next to me. "Oh,
I'm sad, but I thank God every day of my life that I was given so
many years with that wonderful man. Fox, I have a very good sense
on people, and you have a sense of long-term sadness. This Dana you
called, you love her very much, right?"

I smile at her knowing that I would have loved to have a grandma
like Ruth, "Yes, Ruth, I love her very much. We skirted around our
true feelings for many years, denying our love," I tell her,
watching the intense look in her face, listening to every word I had
to say, "Because of the line of work we are in, there were instances
that we nearly lost one another. But I'm here now, and believe me
Ruth, I am going to make it all up to her--to our baby."

"A baby? Why, a baby is not conceived by denial," she smiles.

Again she makes me laugh. "You're right, Ruth. About 8 months ago,
we found each other and stopped denying, but then I was taken and we
almost lost that chance. But not now, I'm back and I'll never leave
her again." I tell Ruth, the last words difficult to say
with the heaviness in my chest.

"You are young. You have your whole life ahead of you," she grins,
wrapping her arms around me, pulling me into a hug.

"You're a remarkable woman, Ruth. You open your home to a complete
stranger and you make this person feel the warmth and love that I've
missed in a long time. I thank you for this and also for the wise
words you have offered me. The minute I get back to Scully, I'm

going to tell her that she and I will be just like you and your
husband, with lots of kids and grandchildren. You think 39 years of
age is too late to start a family?" I smile.

"Thirty-nine, why you're just a child," she says, separating the
hug.

A knock on the door brings us out of our reverie. Standing up too
quickly, a feeling of dizziness forces me to grab the sturdy back of
the couch. I stand there waiting.

We look at each other, seconds passing before either of us makes a
movement. "Sir" is all that came out of my mouth. It takes me by
surprise when he steps forward and embraces me, a bear hug around my
tired body. I wrap my arms around his broad back in response.

"Mulder," is all he can say.

We hold each other like father and son, like two brothers, like two
great friends, "I shouldn't have let you go, I should have demanded
you not to." Skinner grunted sadly.

"I would have gone anyway, Sir, you know that. I had to go instead
of Scully." I tell him, still holding him tightly. I look over my
shoulder and see Ruth watching us. I can only imagine what she is
thinking. I separate the hug and turn to her.

"Ruth, I'd like you to meet my boss, Assistant Director Skinner.
Ruth, I'm a F.B.I. Agent. I was kidnapped six months ago. I was
able to escape today and right now, I'm very anxious to go home and

see my partner," I said, then turn to Skinner, "You did get a
flight back today, right?"

"Yes, the flight leaves in two hours, let's get going," he tells me,
then turns to Ruth, "Ma'am, thank you very much for your
hospitality. The FBI is very appreciative of your generosity.
Agent Mulder is one of our finest, and his ordeal has had a
traumatic effect on him. Your offer to TLC is probably the best
homecoming anyone could have given him."

We say our good-byes and give Ruth a hug for helping me at a time
that I needed help. Skinner and I walk to the car in silence. I
could tell he was ill-at-ease, self-conscious and I know I needed to
ease his mind. I also needed to talk about Scully and see how she
was. But right now I needed to see something.

"Sir, I know you have a lot of questions right now, and I'll try to
answer them as best I can, but I need to ask a favor. I need for
you to drive about a quarter of a mile south on this road. There
will be a cave to the right, will you take me there?" I ask him.

He looks at me then bows his head in acknowledgement, still quiet.
We reached the cave, hidden behind the trees; Skinner parked on the
shoulder of the road.

"I'll be back in a second," I tell him, but he's following me out of
the car before I finish my sentence.

"Mulder, if I let you out of my sight and something happens to you,
Scully will have my hide," he warns, walking around to my side of
the car. I slide out of the car slowly, still feeling the pain
within my rectum shooting up to the pit of my stomach. My legs are
still weak from months of keeping them immobile.

"Let me help you," Skinner says, taking a hold of my arm, helping me
walk toward the cave. I look at the horizon where the ship had
landed and where the explosion had occurred. I walk in the cave
slowly, looking around in the hope that I can find Nastro. I
approach the center of the cave and find the familiar satchel.
Bending down slowly, I retrieve the bag and open it. The cylinder
metallic rod, is still in the bag with markings of crusted, dry
blood remaining from the extraction of my tracking device. I'm

amazed at how long it is and wonder how that thing was dug into me.
The sadness hits me as I realize that Nastro and Omra risked their
lives to rescue a single human being.

"What is that, Mulder?" Skinner asks, taking it from my hands.

"You don't want to know," I respond. He looks at the object then
back to me in bewilderment.

"This was inserted into me, where the sun don't shine," I joked.

For the first time in a long time, I hear myself laughing, as I
watch Skinner drop the rod as if it was on fire. "Don't worry, Sir,
unless someone is about to jam it up your ass, it is really
harmless." He bends down to pick it up and investigates it
carefully.

"I don't think it's sterile, it was inserted in me," I tell him,
watching him drop it again. I smile; lifting it up and putting it
back in the satchel. I look in the bag again, and find two
stilettos. I'm guessing there was one for each of my little alien
friends.

Skinner looks at me puzzled, I think he is trying to understand the
expression I have in my face; an expression of a loss, "What is it
Mulder? Just what did they do to you?"

"Sir, you have no idea. I will explain it later, but I will tell
you one thing, if it wasn't for two alien beings, and their support
and their constant protection over me, I would have surely died. In
fact, four months ago, I was operated on and it had a bad outcome.
I went into a coma for four months, and Omra and Nastro took care of
me until I came out of it. I owe them my life, but yet, they lost

their lives for me." I bow my head with grief, sadness washing over
me.

"Omra? Nastro?" Skinner asks bewildered.

"They were my saviors," I respond quietly, holding the satchel close
to my chest as I turn to leave the cave. I start walking down the
path that Nastro had walked when he shape-shifted into my features.
I look around not really knowing what I would find; maybe the
little gray with its long fingers, and expressionless
characteristics. I walk back to the car, Skinner close at my heels.

"I need you to drive straight ahead, about another mile," I tell
him, still hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the two, but mostly
Omra.

We approach the clearing at the end of the horizon and leave the car
again, Skinner is hot on my heels, nearly as part of my own body,
"Sir, I'm not going to get lost, or let myself be taken again," I
assure him.

"No chances, we are one right now Mulder."

We inspect the scorched circular markings on the ground, the remnant
of a very huge object. The leaves from the trees are burnt to a
crisp, branches hanging bare and black from the fire. I head toward
the circular ring of the outlined area.

"Omra, I am so sorry-thank you for giving me my life back," I yell
at the top of my lungs, as a tear escapes my eye. I reach for the
cross that Scully has given me, and now more then ever, this piece
of jewelry means so much. Not so much for the times it has been a
symbol of Scully and my feelings for each other, but now also a
symbol of Omra. Why, because she knew what it meant to me, and she
wouldn't let anyone take it.

Skinner approaches me, placing his arm over my shoulder, bringing me

close to him, again in silence. He knows that I will talk when it's
time, right now it is not.

"Let's go home." I tell him.

<cont in part 14>
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@
Feedback welcomed at corrinels@socal.rr.com
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<cont from part 13>

Getting Back (14-15)
headers and disclaimers in 1/15
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@

Sitting on the plane for the long five hour flight is very painful
for me. I nod off several times, the pain constantly reawakening me
each time I attempt to maneuver my body into a more comfortable
position. I hug the satchel close to me, not willing to let it out
of my sight. I close my eyes, a smile escaping my face,
recollecting the images of fast-talk, badge-flashing Skinner had to
do to convince the security personnel, of the highly classified
content in the satchel and the reason why it couldn't leave our
sight.

I have the window seat; watching the white swirl of clouds mesh with
the blue sky as we move through them reminds me that I have been up
there, somewhere. Who will possibly believe me? Scully is a
scientist, skeptical until proven otherwise, and even though she is
now my lover and the mother of my child, how much of my story will
she accept.

+ + +

It is already 9:00 P.M. as we walk slowly to Skinner's car in the
airport parking structure. Except for the few times Skinner tries
to apologize, or make perfunctory chitchat, we keep quiet. I feel
sorry for him, knowing that for the period of my disappearance, he
had this terrible guilt resting on his shoulders, but I just didn't
want to talk right now. I just want to soak everything in, feel
life again, not take the air in my lungs for granted. Everything
looks beautiful. The buildings, the crowds of people rushing to
their destinations; even in this late hour of the night. They are
moving in the same hectic mode that I had been accustomed to before
I had been taken, not knowing the wonderful gift I had until it had
been threatened to be taken away.

More silence as we drive through the city. We finally reach my
apartment building; my heart is hammering a million miles a minute.
I am breathless, scared, and at the same time impatient to get to
Scully, eager to see her face, her smile, and feel her embrace.

"Sir, aren't you going to take me to Scully's?" I ask him as I gaze
up to the window of my apartment.

"She's been staying here more times than her own place. I think she
just felt closer to you staying at your place. Mulder," he says,
placing his hand on my shoulder to get my attention, "she's been
extremely strong through this ordeal, but we have some concern
that her internalizing the stress of your absence could have a
detrimental effect on her health, and on your unborn child. I am
not trying to trivialize your ordeal by any means, but I need for
you to be aware that both of you need time to heal and adapt to the
new situation."

I turn to him, worry clouding my features. "Is there any serious
problems I need to be aware of?"

"Not serious, Mulder. Your friends, Byers, Frohike and Langly took
care of her the best they could. They took her to doctor's
appointments; they called her often to see if she was doing okay.
Mulder, they even took turns going to Lamaze classes," he smiled.

"Lamaze classes, I even missed that." I say softly, under my breath.

"Yes, you have, and Mulder, I would have traded places with you ten
fold if it were at all possible. I am so sorry." Skinner says to
me, once again assuring me with the touch of his hand on my
shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault, Sir. Don't ever blame yourself for what
happened to me. I felt that I had to protect what I love." I tell
him turning to the side, looking into Skinner's eyes. "My life has
been filled with avenues of misfortunes, but Scully was never a
misfortune, she was and will always be my reason for living, my
savior. Now, Sir, if you don't mind, I think it's time to go see
her, to hold her close and to never let go again. I have missed
so much, I didn't get the chance to share any of her pregnancy with
her, and I want so much to feel our baby kick at me for ignoring
it."

"Thank you, Mulder. Even though in the recess of my mind, I will
always feel guilty. Right now, I feel that I've been forgiven. I'm
going to let you go up by yourself. This is a time for both of you
to be alone," he says, returning his hand to the steering wheel.
"As a matter of fact, I think I might walk you to your door, I'm
just so afraid you'll get lost." He teases, a smile softening his
worried features.

"I won't get lost, go on home and thanks," I tell him as I reach out
to unlatch the door.

I know he is joking and I am thankful that he is allowing the
reunion be just Scully and me. I smile at him one last time, open
the door and take a step out, retrieving my satchel. I begin the
slow approach to the front of the apartment building, making one
last turn to see Skinner backing out of the parking lot.

The elevator ride is so familiar to me it is reassuring--I am really
free. I touch the wall, the door; everything seems to look
beautiful to me. The doors open and I hesitate for a couple of
seconds, afraid to take that one step, afraid that I would suddenly
awaken from this beautiful dream. Yet as I take a step forward into
the hallway I feel it deep within my soul, it is real. I move
further down the hall, noticing the door to apartment 40 is
wide open and empty inside. 'They must have moved out' I think to
myself, trying to recall which neighbor had once lived there, sadly
admitting that I don't really know my neighbors at all unless they
decided to become obsessed with Scully, but that was another
time, another story. I continue walking and stop in front of number
42. I take a few deep breaths, and notice my hands are shaking. I
pause in reverence before raising my hand, my knuckles make contact
against the cool wood, the thumps eerily echoing down the hall, a
multitude of emotions are running through me. It is strange to be
knocking on my own door, but I can sense Scully on the other side
and I want to give her time to compose herself. My hands are
trembling stronger now as I wait in anticipation for her to open the
last barrier between us.

I hear the latch unlock and I stare intently at the knob as it turns
slowly, then a rectangular shaft of light illuminates the darkened
hall, growing wider as the door swings open. I am holding my
breath. It is Scully, an angel of beauty, of grace, before my eyes.
We simultaneously hesitate, maybe nervous, maybe shy, both knowing
the months apart between us have been long and painful. I know that
I am praying that this wasn't simply the result of a dream's cruel
joke.

Without a word being spoken between us, I gaze at her face, yes,
this time I am gazing at her. Her face is pure and innocent, free
of make-up, allowing me to see every soft nuance around her vivid
blue eyes. Her auburn hair swept away from her face and bundled
into a ponytail. I feel a tremendous lump in my throat and my heart
aches at the thought of what she must have been through worrying
about my disappearance. My eyes move slowly down her form, racing
to memorize every detail, every inch of her body. My vision is
blurred by the tears I am trying to hold back at the sight of the
bulge underneath my Knicks T-shirt she has on. She is wearing my
blue sweatpants that are now stretched at the waistband as far as
they will go. It was true, I am going to be a father! I am
mesmerized as I take a step through the doorframe.

"Scully." Is all that spills from my lips as I reach out to envelop
her in my embrace, her warm body close to mine fast becoming the
most wonderful sensation I have ever felt.

"It's you, it's really you Mulder." She keeps on whispering, as she
holds my face with her two hands, as she kisses my lips, my eyes, my
forehead, "God, I have missed you so much."

I am speechless; I just couldn't break the embrace. I am afraid to
let her go. I feel like a child, lost in the grocery store, scared,
and then finding my parents and holding them in fear of being lost
again. I don't want to let her go. I don't want to be lost again.

I nuzzle my head on the crook of her neck and start to cry quietly,
my body heaving with emotion. As she holds me closer, the tears
pour out faster. I think she wants to be strong for me, but hearing
me cry releases her tightly held emotions to the forefront and she
starts to cry as well. I hold her tight, feeling her swollen
stomach press up against mine. Then I feel it, a waving motion and
then a jab. I loosen the embrace and look down once again at her
stomach. "I felt our baby move." I respond with awe.

"The baby knew you were coming home. I told him all about you." She
whispers with pride taking my hand and placing it on her extended
stomach.

"He, you said he?" I ask enthusiastically.

She laughs, the tinkling tone delighting me, welcoming me home more
than anything else could. "It makes it easier to say he, I don't
know what we're having. I want it to be a surprise. God, Mulder, I
missed you so very much. But I knew you were coming back to
me," and she pauses as tears trickle from her eyes" I had dreams
about you...lots of dreams. Like the dreams I have had previously
when everyone thought you were dead, but I knew you weren't." She
says between sobs.

"I dreamt of you too, Scully. And I thought of you every waking
moment." I tell her, taking her hand and leading her to the couch.

"Oh, Mulder, I'm sorry, you must be drained, let's sit down." she
says, taking the lead as she notices my slow movements. "You're not
well, and you are so thin. Mulder, you've lost so much weight."

"Solient green, alien food isn't what it's cut out to be." I joke.

She grins, "and your hair, it's long, umm, I like it, Mulder, better
than the weed-whacker look you do every summer." The smile flickers
briefly at her own joke but within a second she becomes serious
again. "What happened, Mulder, why did you leave me. The greatest
miracle of all happened, I found out I was pregnant the day you were
taken and...and I was alone. Yes, I did say I knew you were coming
back to me, but I'd be lying to you. I was so scared that you were
gone forever. And...the worst part was that you would never know I was
carrying our child."

"But I did find out, and that's what tormented me even more, Scully.
Knowing that a miracle had happened from that one night we spent
together, and that it was highly probable I would never be able to
be with you to hold our baby." I said softly.

"I don't understand, how did you know?"

"It's a long story, a very long story," I inform her, "but, first
thing first. Scully, I want to see your stomach, can I?" I ask
shyly, "And speaking of seeing your stomach, you are majorly
stretching my Knicks T-Shirt and never mind the expanded waistband
of my sweats."

She giggles, yes, Scully giggled as she lifts my T-shirt to expose
her swollen belly, displaying such a beautiful sight. I lower my
head, gently touching her stomach, feeling the little movements
underneath the skin, which nudges against the side of my face.
"Just like the dream I had of you, Scully. I dreamt that we were in
bed and your water broke. I dreamt that I had to hurry and take you
to the hospital but we didn't make it and I had to deliver our child
in the back seat of a car. I dreamt of you during the times I was
strapped in that bed." I say, realizing too late what I had let
slip.

"You were strapped down? My God, Mulder, I know how much you hate
that. What did they do to you?" she demands.

"Not now, later...I just want to sit here and look at you, all of
you." I nuzzle at her extended navel. Scully sighs with
resignation.

"Well, before you do that, I'm going to fix you some dinner. You
are way too skinny right now. I need to fatten you up to look like
me." She teases, leveraging herself with her hands against the couch
to lift herself up.

"Do you need help?" I muse, as I stand and extend my hand to help
her. After a couple of sways back and forth, she finally rises to
an upright position.

"Don't say anything." She retorts, wobbling toward the kitchen. I
gaze at her for a second, then follow her.

"Mulder, stay in the living room, you have to rest." She instructs,
taking the pot from the kitchen cabinet.

"I...I don't want to..." I reply, embarrassed.

She seems to understand what I mean by this, that I don't want to be
alone. It might take awhile before I am able to be alone in a room,
to not feel the fear I felt all these past months.

I sit at the small table, and watch with amusement as Scully
maneuvers herself around the tiny workplace. I am more amazed at
how comfortable she appears to be how familiar she is with my
belongings. Soon, the delicious smell of frying onions, mushroom
and garlic wafts around the room. I stare at her dreamily as she
adds stock and shredded chicken to the pot.

After presenting me with a bowl, she sits down at the kitchen table
with me, watching me eat with enthusiasm, "So you like my chicken
soup?" She asks.

"That's not all I like," I smile, spooning the soup in my mouth with
vigor. Scully smiles back at me.

After I finish my meal, we head back to the living room, Scully sits
on the couch, I pace around my small apartment, stopping at the fish
tank.

"You took good care of them." I then walk toward the television set
and take the remote control and sit next to her.

"Six months without television. Do you know how hard it was for me
to go to sleep in complete silence?" I joke, resting my arm across
her shoulders, pulling her close to me. I turn the television on,
and immediately begin surfing the channels.

"We're not going to watch t.v," she says to me, removing the remote
from my hands, turning the television set off. "We need to talk."

"I'm tired, Scully, maybe another time," I tell her, trying to put
aside the inevitable.

"Then, let's go to bed, we'll talk there." She responds firmly,
scooting herself from the couch, standing up again.

I'm nervous at her reaction, her insistence. I don't know what to
make of it. Too many things are happening at once, my thoughts are
working overtime, We sleep together just one time, the night we
conceived our child, and now, is she asking me to go to bed with
her?

"I'll take the couch," I tell her.

"No, Mulder, you're not getting out of my sight. Besides, I want to
hold you in my arms," she says to me, bending down to kiss my
forehead, "I lay many nights alone, holding only my stomach, feeling
our unborn child grow. I am not going to sleep alone tonight. I
need to have you beside me. I missed you."

I get up off the couch and follow her to the bedroom, still looking
around at my environment; everything is so amazingly wonderful. I
open the drawer to get some clean boxers and find Scully's
undergarments in it. I turn around, puzzled, catching her cute
innocent smile.

"I only filled up one drawer. I stayed here half of the time. I
felt I was closer to you."

I grin delightedly, pleased that Scully had already decided to
become a more permanent presence in my life. After a quick shower,
I walk back to the bedroom, Scully patiently waiting for me to
finish.

"I like your hair. You aren't going to cut it are you?" she asks
me, "and you need smaller size boxers, or you need to fatten up,"
she teases, entering the bathroom, leaving the door ajar.

I climb in bed, feeling the softness of the mattress and the vanilla
scent on the pillow, the smell of Scully.

+ + +

Scully leaves the bathroom a short time later not wanting to leave
Mulder alone. She finds an extra large T-shirt of Mulder's and slips
it on over her bikini underwear, the bottom of her belly exposed, 'I
will not wear the pregnancy underwear, not for this baby Huey' she
jokes about her bulging belly. She heads to the bed, noticing
Mulder already asleep. Smiling fondly down at him, she carefully
crawls under the sheets so as not to awaken him. It takes her
awhile to fall asleep, being so aware of his warm body lying
beside her but eventually exhaustion overtakes her and she falls
asleep curled up along side of him.

+ + +

Scully bolts awake suddenly as screams rip through her dreams. She
turns in the moonlit shadows to see Mulder's head thrashing from
left to right, his knees drawn up, his feet planted on the bed, hips
lifting off the bed tense in mid-air. He holds the sheets of the
bed with such tight clenched fists that his knuckles are as white as
the sheets "Omra, help me Omra, make them stop, it hurts, I can't
take the pain anymore!" he yells.

Scully scoots herself next to him, nudging her face to his ear,
whispering to him, while she rubs his thighs, his hands, to loosen
his muscles to relax.

"Wake up, Mulder, it's only a dream. I'm here with you. Shhhh.
Open your eyes." She croons softly.

+ + +

I don't realize I'm holding my breath in between yells, and when I
wake up startled, looking around at the surroundings, I'm not on the
craft but at home; Scully by my side.

"I, I had a bad dream," I tell her, as if she didn't know.

"I know, Mulder, more to add to your collection of nightmares. I'm
with you now. Mulder, I want you to tell me what happened to you.
I know it's going to be hard, but maybe if you talk, it will make
you feel better...and who is Omra?" she asks me.

I focus on my breathing, the memories very vivid in my mind, "Omra
is the alien being that saved my life. She protected me the best
she could. After the tests, she'd hold me as if I was her child.
She promised to help me escape and she did. I think she was killed
at my escape." I tell her, feeling sadness for the loss.

I take a deep breath and finally tell her my story; the whole story,
holding back nothing as I know Scully deserves this.

Scully sits up, gently guiding me to lay my head on her lap, her
hand gently weaving her fingers through my long hair, smiling sadly,
then moving her hand to her cross, which still hangs around my neck.
She did not speak as I relived the horrible ordeal.

"They found out or somehow knew of the surgery that was done on me a
year back and decided to do another cranial surgery, to find
whatever CSM was looking for. The plan was to make another trip to
Earth to pick up more humans, Omra and her confidante, Nastro were
determined to set me free. If it weren't on this trip, I would have
been there for another year. The escape was not that bad, but Omra
decided to go back into the ship for something, I don't know for
what...but..." my voice trembling at the thought of her demise.
Nastro promised to Omra that I would be free. Nastro shape-shifted
to my form and they chased him. That's when I was able to escape.
Then...minutes later I heard the explosion. I waited for a few
minutes before I looked out and the horizon was ablaze. I know that
Omra and Nastro were killed. Scully, they saved me, I would have
been dead if it wasn't for them." I look at her, not being able to
read her thoughts, "A tall tale, isn't it? Do you believe me?"

"You know I wouldn't have believed you years ago, but yes Mulder, I
believe every word. I'm sorry about Omra and Nastro. But Mulder,
you must not blame yourself for their deaths. They did what they
chose to be the right thing. To bring you back to me." she comforts
me, then with a puzzled look she continues, "Doesn't tell me how you
knew I was pregnant."

"Scully, remember months ago when Teresa called you to her place to
tell you about me? That wasn't Teresa that was Omra, shape-shifting
into her body. Omra had disappeared from me for a few days. I
didn't know she was sent back on Earth for an assignment, and
she decided to take a detour. She wanted to bring back news for me.
I was losing hope and I really didn't much care if I lived at that
time. She needed something to take back with her to give me an
added incentive, and it did. That's when she told me of our child."

"It's over now. We're together, and have a lifetime to make up for
the six months you were away. You'll be with me when our baby comes
and life will be perfect." She says to me taking me into her arms,
and I melt into her warmth as we smother with our embrace.

For the first time in many months, I feel at peace, and for the
first time in more years then I care to remember, I feel loved. We
both hug each other, as close as we can with her belly in between
us, and both fall asleep in each other's arms.

@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@
continued in part 15
feedback welcomed at corrinels@socal.rr.com
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@

Continued from part 14

Getting Back - (15-15)
Headers and disclaimers in 1/15
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@

The gentle brushing of the tree branches hitting against my bedroom
window remind me of the April night Scully and I had spent together.
I want to get out of bed and open the window to breathe in the cool
night air, but I am keenly aware that Scully is nuzzled up beside
me.

The warmth of her body, the scent of the vanilla body spray she uses
these days is intoxicating to my senses and with the memory of my
recent intense loneliness, there is no way I am going to move away.
I snuggle up closer to her, nuzzling her earlobe with the softness
of my lips. She whimpers, her face lighting up into a sweet smile.

"Mulder, you're tickling me." She whispers, her tone indicating she
is clearly enjoying it.

"Scully, do you know this is the first time that you and I have
woken up together, on the same bed." I murmur into her soft hair.
"There were our overnight stakeouts, but then again, we were focused
on our task at the time. The only other time we shared a bed for
purposes other than sleeping was on that April morning. I woke to
find the side next to me on the bed cold, you had left." I tell her,
holding her close to me. I reach down and caress the soft skin of
her belly, "Scully, when is our baby due?"

"December 31st." she says to me with a knowing smile.

I nod; my thoughts going back to the last December 31st we had
shared together, remembering a first-time moment between us.

"Our first real kiss and it had nothing to do with CPR that time." I
tease, kissing gently down her neck leaving a moist trail behind.
"We never talked about that, did we? While you may have chalked it
up as a sprit-of-the-season moment, I never did."

"Neither did I, Mulder." Scully answers with honesty, her voice low
and husky, squeezing her chin against the top of my head as I find
one of her ticklish spots. "We were so ridiculous for so many
years--what were we waiting for? For a 'right moment' to jump out
at us? If anything, I've learned from our mistakes, Mulder, is that
there are only 'right moments' when we make them, not the other way
around."

"Well I'm glad we finally figured that out, Scully--now we just have
to work on making up for lost time." I playfully answer; placing my
hand on her stomach, bunching her shirttail in the palm of my hand
until I have successfully exposed her swollen belly out into the
open. "You're so little to have such a big belly." I chuckle as I
stroke the taut skin.

"Thanks, Mulder for the observation of my 'big' belly," Scully
chuckles, her fingers under my chin, raising my head to face her,
her eyes growing serious. She reaches out to touch my face,
brushing my lips with her fingers. "It doesn't matter how I look.
I love being this way. When I was told that I could never bear
children, I didn't realize until that moment at what I had lost. I
had played a game of chance, deciding that I would have children
when* I * was ready, but once that option was denied me, I wanted
that opportunity back more than anything. I wanted a chance to pass
on the miracle of life to another, to feel a person grow inside of
my womb, to kick and move beneath my skin, even feel when it
hiccuped. I've been given a second chance, Mulder, and I'm not
wasting a single minute to enjoy it."

"Just how did this happen?" I ask her, my hands rubbing her
stomach, the pads of my fingers devilishly roaming along the
stretched, smooth skin, pausing at the crease between her belly and
breast.

"You want to know how this happened? Didn't your dad give you the
'birds and the bee's talk' all fathers give their sons?" She jokes.

"Actually, Scully, Mary Lou Hearst and her boyfriend next door
pretty much saved him from that fatherly duty when I happened to
walk." I begin to ramble as Scully's mouth closes across mine.
Several minutes pass, neither of us coming up for air until I
finally break the kiss panting, adding in a hoarse voice, "I did
good, didn't I?" My eyes travel across her body; my thoughts lace
with desire as my hand begins moving again, higher, until I finally
reach my destination, her breast. "Either I've been away too long,
Scully, or pregnancy has made you bigger in other places."

"The way I see it, I'm not the only one expanding." She muses, her
pupils darkening as her hand slips to my groin, cupping my penis,
teasing it.

I carefully reposition myself beside her, then gently take the hem
of her shirttail and lift the t-shit slowly over her head, my eyes
practically blinded by the beauty that is revealed before me.

Without haste, I strip off my boxers and nuzzle closer to her, my
cock touching her, her breasts pressing against my chest.

"Mulder, you know we can't do anything right now. Well, actually, I
as a doctor know that it isn't going to harm the baby, but I don't
want to take any chances. I did have problems during the
pregnancy." She whispers, groaning in my ear as my fingers brush
against her sensitive nipples.

I stop suddenly, afraid that I might hurt her. "Are you okay?" I
ask, my mind flickers back to the comment Skinner had made last
night about Scully's health. I am reminded of his indication that
we should both take it easy, give us both time to heal.

"Yes, of course I am. I haven't had any complications for a while
now, but at the same time, I don't want them to come back either.
At this stage during the pregnancy, stimulation could cause
premature contractions and I've got to keep him as safe as possible
until the right time for him comes." She looks up at me, and my
concern for her must be evident in my own expression, because
suddenly I am being held tightly against her breast and her hands
are in my hair and she is murmuring into my ear, "I'm ok, Mulder, I
promise you this. Having you home is the best medicine, and I just
want you close to me. At this moment I am the happiest I have been
at any point of my life. The two most important things in my life
are within me and beside me."

We are silent for a while within our embrace, listening to ourselves
breathe, and a few stray tears are shed. I turn my body slightly,
my back to her, as she starts sliding her hand down my naked back,
and brush against my backside.

"Of course, Mulder," she whispers lazily, "It doesn't stop me from
touching you," melting her body against mine as her hand continues
to glide up and down.

"It's okay, Scully, you don't have to." I gasp, turning my body
toward her again, my groin begins its rhythmic dance against her.

"I want to." Scully cuts me off, planting a red-hot kiss across my
mouth, her lips crushing against mine with urgency, our tongues
exploring, colliding together. At Scully's firmness I worked on
setting the guilt aside, my eyelids falling shut, as my breath
becomes shallower and faster. Scully's mouth moves down my neck, as
her hand strokes rhythmically against me. I am totally at her
mercy.

Images of Scully, my love, flood my mind, her tiny, swollen body
selflessly pressing against me, loving me with every part of her
being, her soul. Only giving, offering asking nothing in return
except for my own gasps of pleasure and gratification, sending me
over the edge into a blinding white light, strong arms holding me
during my shudders of ecstasy, riding out the waves with me.

+ + +

Time passes both slowly and quickly. Days turn into weeks, and with
each passing day, I am stronger and a bit less fearful. Scully and
I take turns staying at each other's apartment. We are rarely
apart, and have no wish to be apart. We enjoy each other's company,
and I have time to re-acquaint myself with who I used to be. I also
cannot keep my hands away from Scully's ever-widening waistline,
much to her amusement.

Frohike, Langly and Byers were ecstatic at the news of my return,
between emails and phone calls, I thought they would drive us crazy.
The three gave me quick lessons in the he he's and ha ha's of
breathing correctly during labor, so that I would be useful to
Scully when the birth of our baby happened. They brought me books
and a doll with disposable diapers to teach me how to change
diapers. I never thought I'd see the day when Frohike appeared at
my door with a baby-doll in his arms, but Scully continued to watch
us from the background, a genuine smile curled on her lips.

Surprisingly, Skinner was worse then they were; visiting nearly
every day, making sure that we were all right. One Sunday morning,
he and the 3 stooges completely caught us off guard when they
arrived with a complete baby furniture set; everything from a crib
and a bassinet to a whole crib bedding and clothing. Scully would
only smile until she unwrapped a gift with receiving blankets
designed with the image of ET.

Scully and I cherish each waking hour and snuggle and talk each
evening until exhaustion hits us and we drift into a good night's
sleep together. Always together.

Every evening, right before nightfall, I have developed a ritual of
standing next to my bedroom window, looking up at the night sky
filled with tiny white pinpoints, trying to imagine where I spent
six months of my life. I whisper softly against the windowpane, my
warm breath fogging against the glass as I give Omra and Nastro my
heartfelt thanks. I will forever be indebted to them for my
survival, my freedom and most of all for the chance to live in utter
happiness with Scully, to love her, to see my child take its first
breath in this world. The memory of Omra and Nastro's kindness, of
selfless determination to help another being different from them, to
break their own rules and possibly alienate them from their own
race, will stay in my heart forever.

Scully is getting bigger with every passing day. While most days
she is sweet and loving, irresistible to be hugged every two
seconds, there are days when her hormones play havoc with her
personality. She is not one to be crossed, if I don't follow the
straight and narrow or pamper her cravings, she bites my head off.
But that is okay, I love Scully in any mood. I cherish every
single moment with her. I know what it is like not to be able to
see her daily, to hold her nightly, to argue with her, to watch her
try to eat at the dining table. I cannot bear to think of that time
now, that six-month period where she wasn't available to me.

Christmas comes with surprises from Skinner, Frohike, Langly, Byers
and Mrs. Scully. They know that Scully is too big, she tires easily
and just doesn't feel like going anywhere, and I am still not yet
100%. I still have violent nightmares. I am still too skinny, and
I tire easily. Scully and I are the perfect couple in this. They
arrive with a small tree and gifts for our baby and us. The five
decide to place bets on the day and time of our baby's birth.
Scully and I just sit back enjoying every minute of their antics and
especially basking in the rare feeling of family closeness. Scully
and I have not had much of that in our lives recently, and it is
another moment for me to cherish.

Although sex was out of the question, our lovemaking was still in
full force, well, the foreplay is as far as we get, but we make the
most of it. We have made a pact that as soon as the doctor gave the
okay; we'd mad dash it home and tear at each other like bunny
rabbits.

We inform the gang that New Years Day has special meaning for us,
and that we'd really like to be alone. I purchase sparkling cider
and two champagne glasses, and our New Year's celebration included a
toast to our new life together while being bare-ass naked on our
bed, sipping the cider. The clock rings its twelve dings, and we
kiss, but this time it isn't an innocent shy kiss like we had shared
a year ago, but a full-on, tongue adventure kiss. Well, I think
that my electrifying kisses sparked her hormones because at 2 in the
morning she starts her contractions, which scares the shit out of
me. I can still vividly remember the dream I had in the spacecraft,
and I was not about to repeat that scene. This time, I am going to
make it to the hospital in plenty of time. When she mentions taking
a shower before going to the hospital, I voice my concerns, but
Scully is not one to cross, and especially not between teeth
clenching, hand squeezing contractions. I sit on the toilet with a
stopwatch and inform her I was giving her 5 minutes to wash up and
if she isn't ready, I will drag her butt-naked down to the car. If
I had a police alarm on my car I would have used it and heaven help
any cop that stopped my 90-mile an hour drive to the hospital.

I was on a mission. Just as I remembered from my dream. I was not
going to deliver our baby in the back seat of the car while a cop
walks up, reprimanding us like two teenagers for being in the mist
of passion.

The guys taught me well in the remaining days before the birth,
because, well, not to brag or anything, but I am a damn good coach.
With every contraction I am there, he he'ing and ha ha'ing with her.
Except for a couple of, 'I hate you's' and 'you get that penis next
to me and I'll kill you,' everything turns out fine. I know my penis
is in jeopardy as that phrase was mentioned in my dream as well.
Eight hours of hard labor and our beautiful little baby son is
delivered. I am overwhelmed by the tiny baby that I hold, wet and
bloody and squirming in my arms. His peach fuzz hair is auburn color
just like Scully's. The couple of times that he pries his eyes
open, they look hazel like mine. And his feet, ah, big like mine,
what a man!!! I am so proud. I am also so very proud of Scully and
tell her so, kissing her sweaty face as often as she will let me. I
am the proudest papa in the nursery, holding my son, walking him
back and forth until he falls asleep in my arms. Every few hours, I
place him on top of his mommy so she can nurse him. During this, I
can only sit there in awe at the beauty in front of me. An
exhausted Scully lies back against a mound of fluffy pillows,
holding our baby with one hand, the other holding the breast up, her
second and third finger positioning her nipple correctly, helping
our baby suckle her nipple. The quiet sucking sound is music to my
ears.

She is released two days later and I proudly accompany my glowing,
amazing partner, my love and now the mother of my child, home.
Although her place is bigger than mine is, we decide to settle the
baby in my apartment for the time being, until decisions have been
made. All of the items that Skinner and the Lone Gunmen have given
us were in my place, and neither of us are in the mood to try and
transport a baby crib and other necessities over to Scully's.

Our baby was born on January 1, 2001, the real starting date of the
new Millennium, I remind Scully as we wait for the elevator at my
apartment building.

"No one likes a geek," she chuckles to me, reminding me of my
comment just over a year ago, where later that same day we had
shared our first kiss as the new year broadcast had grabbed our
attention. As I think back to that day, I have a sudden epiphany.
As I stand here besides her, looking down at her, and watch Scully
cuddle our baby, I remember Frank Black's comment on why he had
refused to help us on that case. His reasoning was to do with his
daughter, and that he had almost lost her due to his obsession with
conspiracies and the end of the world. I wonder if I will end up
losing everything, or that I would be accused of being an unfit
father, because of my beliefs. Scully interrupts my thoughts with
"No, Mulder. It won't be like that for you."

I glance back at her, surprised and wonder how she knows what I am
thinking. She smiles ruefully at me over the downy head of our son.

"I could follow your thoughts through the expression on your face,
Mulder. You were thinking of Frank Black. You forgot one thing,
Mulder. You have me. I'll always watch your back. I won't let your
path follow in the same vein. You are not working alone, and you
never will be."

God, I love this woman. She hands me the baby as the elevator doors
open.

Scully and I step into the elevator, the hospital-issue diaper bag
in her hands, our new son in mine. As the doors sponge together, a
hand pokes through the tiny opening, a couple close to our age
quickly steps inside.

"Fourth floor," the lady indicates with a nod of her chin, her arms
laden with bundles and bags.

"Are you visiting someone in the apartment complex?" I ask them.

"No, we just moved in yesterday. We're in apartment 40," the
gentleman answers me.

"We're neighbors, we're in apartment 42. I'm Fox Mulder, but please
call me Mulder, and this is Dana Scully," I say to them.

"Pleasure meeting you. I'm Mr. Nastroma, but you can call me Joe
and this is my wife Kristen."

"New parents, I see," Mrs. Nastroma asks, gently touching the baby
blanket and taking a peek at our baby.

"Yes, he was born two days ago, he's beautiful, isn't he?" I tell
them, pride bouncing in my words. I find myself smiling widely
every time there is a mention of my child.

"Ah, a proud papa," Mr. Nastroma smiles, turning to Scully.
"Beautiful.male or female?"

"Baby boy," Scully answers a smile of pride showing on her face.

"Well, we hope to see you around, and congratulations," Kristen
smiles in response.

"Yes, congratulations." Joe adds in agreement as the elevator doors
open, letting them out onto the fourth floor. Joe places his arm
across Kristen's shoulders as they head toward their apartment and
enter. "They seem very nice," I comment as we pass by their closed
door. "Scully, I feel like I know them from somewhere, but I can't
pinpoint where I've seen them before," I mention as I take one more
glance at their door before unlocking the door of my own apartment.

"We've been on a number of cases, Mulder, and we've met a lot of
people on the way. Maybe they just resemble someone we've spoken
with before." Scully rationalizes as she moves to the couch,
delicately sitting down as she grips the armrest for support.

I wait for her to get comfortable, then give her our child to nurse.
For some unknown reason I feel compelled to walk to the window by my
computer and look outside. It is only midday, but I need to look up
in the sky, remembering the tiny white stars I had grown familiar
with during my nightly vigils, the beams of light still there,
simply hidden behind the sun's overpowering rays. A strong
sensation suddenly comes over me, and I am unsure if it has to do
with the excitement of our son's birth, or something else I can
identify but I want to cry. I stand there, silently for about five
minutes, before moving back to sit with Scully.

"What's the matter, Mulder?" She asks me.

"I don't know, Scully, I almost feel anxious, something unknown
eating at the back of my mind. Must be the excitement of our child,
my little family." I muse as I settle back, pulling Scully against
me so that I can hold them both. Contentment is the universal
relaxant, and soon all three of us are asleep.

About two hours later, there is a light tap on the door. At first I
think it is either Skinner, the Lone Gunmen or Mrs. Scully, since
they had been constant visitors over the last couple of months. "I
wonder who it could be." I joke with a twinge of sarcasm as I make
my way toward the door, sensing Scully's amused smile behind me.

"Mr. Nastroma and Mrs. Nastroma," I say out loud so that Scully can
discretely put her breast away. After all, that was only for
immediate family and friends to see, including my son and myself, I
muse.

"Please, just Joe and Kristy," the couple admonish. "We wanted to
bring you a present for your child. We are new to the area, and
don't have any family or friends close by. We want to be
neighborly, but we didn't know a good store to get something
appropriate. We had this for many years, and we thought it would be
a nice present for your son." Joe tells me, handing me a box
wrapped in blue paper.

"Thank you, we appreciate the thought. Please come in," I offer
politely, but they both decline the offer, making amends about how
they had somewhere to be. So I nod in understanding and shut the
door as they walked away. I carry the package over to Scully who is
watching me with curiosity. I can't help but feel touched by the
generosity of the two strangers.

I take the envelope first, pulling the card out. It is a simple
white card with a picture of a gorgeous baby on the cover, the
embossed words reading 'Believe in Miracles'. The words give me a
light chill; again I can't explain it. I open it up and continue to
read:

'The miracle of deep love,
Comes only once in a lifetime.
From that love,
A miracle child is born.
Treasure him.'

The card is signed by Kristy and Joe.

"Looks like you are fortunate to have a great set of neighbors,
Mulder." Scully says, leaning across me to see the card. "Wow,
that's beautiful."

"The words are meaningful, aren't they?" I comment absentmindedly
as I tear the box open, my fingers running across the cool glass of
a snow globe. I lift it carefully from the box.

"That brings back memories." Scully grins.

I smile with her, as we study the deep blue base of the gift, my
eyes focus on a tiny plastic couple inside the watery dome, two
forms in a loving embrace their lips engaged in a melting kiss.
Right next to them is a small child; its arms wrapped around one leg
of each parent. The backdrop of the globe is painted like a night
sky, tiny stars painted amongst the blackness. I give the globe a
gentle shake in my palm, the fluttering white flakes dance around
the figures like shooting stars. I am mesmerized by the scene.

"What a nice present. Mulder, maybe you should go and thank them;
maybe tell them that when I'm up and about we'll invite them for
dinner."

I agree and stand up, placing the card and globe on the table. I
bend down to kiss Scully's forehead; my son looks up at me and
gurgles, waving his little chubby hands toward me.

"You get a kiss too," I smile, "I'll be back in a bit." I open the
front door and with my first step into the hallway, an object
flutters at my feet, as the breeze from the opening door lifts it
away from its position. I notice it is a white envelope, possibly
left at my doorstep.

I quickly look right and left confirming the hallway is completely
empty except for the envelope and me. Looking down again, I feel a
bit hesitant at collecting the envelope, wondering if it will lead
me away from my family into another horrific experience. Then I
hear Scully laughing and the baby begins laughing that tiny little
chuckle that only babies can do, and I realize it doesn't matter
what is in the envelope, because I have Scully by my side. Scully
will keep me on the right path.

With this thought, I eagerly bend down and pick it up; ripping
through the glued top to pull out a paper that instantly makes my
blood turn cold. Blood drains from my head as it pumps wildly
through my fingers my body dizzy and my back slams hard against the
wall behind me as I lose my balance. My eyes are skirting across
the words at lightening speed. The words familiar, haunting me,
reminding me of a past I thought I had left behind.

Dear Scully,

It has been nearly a month since I have seen you, confined in these
four white walls, not a picture, a window, just whiteness that
blends the walls and floor together. A small bed ...

It was the letter I had written on the ship.

My heart is pounding; I don't know what to think. My first instinct
is that they have found me again, that they were here to take me
back, but no, the only one that knew about this letter was Omra.

I close the door to my apartment and stand in the hallway,
paralyzed, my mind traveling a million miles a minute. Even Nastro
didn't know about the letter. I fold the paper back in the envelope
and I hold it against my chest, against Scully's necklace that still
hangs around my neck.
I
glance again to the right and my eyes stop at the number 40 down the
hall. A strong urge washes over me, an almost pulling sensation, a
nagging sensation to go to apartment 40 and speak to the new couple.

I slowly walk to their door. I hesitate at first and then knock.
Instantly, the door opens and there stands Kristen, a tiny woman,
possibly no taller then 5'1 inches tall.

She looks at the letter clasped tightly within my fist, and smiles
at me, tears shining in her eyes. "I missed you, Fox."

My chest starts and falling with shallow breaths, my heart drums
loudly in my ribcage, I want to scream at the top of my lungs with
joy, "Omra, I thought you were dead!"

"Yes, my son, it is I.. Please come in." Omra responds casually,
stepping back as an invitation.

I pause for a moment, staring at Omra in wonderment before I walk
in. I look around, wondering what kind of furnishing they have,
which is silly of me, what did I expect, utilitarian furniture.

Coming from the bedroom, Mr. Nastroma comes into view.

"Nastro Omra, Nastroma," I say out loud, bursting out in laughter.
I can't believe I didn't pick up on it before. Scully does that to
me these days; her presence distracts me perpetually.

I rush to Omra and hug her, lifting her off the floor and holding
her tightly.

"Wow, son, you're going to squeeze my innards out," she teases.

"And what kind of innards are they, human or alien?" I tease back,
very pleased to see my friend.

Nastro looks at me and smiles.

"But how, what happened, God, I thought you both died." My words
ramble out. Omra takes my hand and leads me to the couch, ndicating
to me to sit down.

"My son, I needed to go back to the spacecraft to retrieve
something. Everything was in chaos; the guards and heads of the
craft were in complete uproar. I went to your quarters first and
found your letter, and then I had to make one more stop," she tells
me, leaning forward to pick up a small box covered with a black lid.
She hands me the box and smiles. "This is also your present."

My expression is puzzled, and my hands are shaking as I lift the lid
slowly. Inside the box are vials, eight vials in total. I remove
one from its nestled position and look at a white cloudy liquid. I
furrow my eyebrows, still bewildered.

"I don't understand," I say to them.

"You don't know what it is? Fox, son, I needed to go back and take
all the specimens of sperm they extracted from you. The look on
your face stayed in my memory, the sad expression you had when you
looked at the children at play, the hybrids. At that moment, I knew
I had to do something. I didn't want you to father any hybrids.
You were already going to be a father to a baby that was conceived
out of love, as it should be. I had to go back and destroy them. I
somehow managed to get the vials and was able to escape. The ship
exploded just minutes after I escaped. The force of the explosion
threw me up against a tree and I must have passed out." Omra turned
to Nastro and reached out for his hand "When I awoke, Nastro was
standing over me. He helped me back to the cave where he said he
took the tracking device out. In fact, we were hiding behind a rock
when you and the bald one went into the cave. I wanted to comfort
you. I do want to assure you the sperm in the vials are not any
good. They needed to be in a safe environment, and once out, the
sperm is dead."

I can't believe what I am hearing. If I didn't have the letter in
one hand and the vials in my other, I don't think I could believe
that Omra and Nastro had survived. I scoot close to her and take
her in my arms and start to cry, releasing sobs of joy. I owed my
life to these two people; I owed my life to Scully. Everything that
was important to me, everything that I wanted and loved was on the
floor of this apartment building. After all the years of misfortune
and pain I had experienced, my life is complete.

"So, what are you now, alien or human?" I tease. "And whose
identity did you steal?" I continued to joke.

"I don't think there is a Nastroma in this world, and as for the
names, I liked the name Kristen and Nastro liked Joe--nice names,
friendly and loving names, wouldn't you say."

I smile for a second and then a wave of fear overwhelms me and I
need to ask, but they seem to have read my mind.

"No, they will not find us, do not worry, we took precautions. We
would never have endangered your life, or the life of your lover and
your baby. We are here on Earth for the duration and I needed to be
close to you, my son. Boalta was taken from me, but you will not be
taken. I will take care of you for the rest of your life. Nastro
and I will make sure of that," Omra states firmly.

I gaze at them both for awhile, giving my thoughts a chance to
stabilize. There is so much to absorb. "Nastro, I still have the
satchel. I still have the rod. Even though they represented pain
and humiliation. I kept them, and hid them at home. They signify
something which I don't yet fully understand," I explain.

Nastro nods. "It is OK to save them. They may be useful in the
future. We may have lost one ship, but there are many more. They
will be back, and knowing there is one tool I can use pleases me.
We have a quest of our own now, Omra and I, to delay and possibly
destroy the colonization process that my race was adamant in
achieving. Omra and I are a formidable team. We work well together.
Who would have guessed it, my dear," he quips turning to Omra.

"We are a good team, you and I." Omra replies fondly. Turning back
to me, she pushes at my arm. "Now, isn't it time to go back to your
family?" he insists. I smile at her as I stand, then turn to face
Nastro. He embraces me with the same emotion that Omra has done.
They walk me to the door and bid their farewells.

I get halfway up the hallway when I hear Omra's final response as
they close their door.

"Hey, Fox, you look nice with clothes on, but I really liked seeing
that nice naked body of yours."

My face reddens as I shut the door behind me, but I am still
smiling.

"You were gone for awhile, did you thank them? Scully asks me as I
collapse onto the couch next to her. She is rubbing moisturize onto
the baby's skin, it appears she bathed him in my absence. I pick up
the tiny set of clothes that lie beside us and hand them to her.
She looks up at me at this point and notices my swollen eyes,
"Mulder, what happened, why were you crying?"

I put my hands in my pocket and pull out the letter and vial. Her
confusion is evident in the expression on her face, as she hands me
our baby and takes the letter from my hand. I cuddle my child to my
chest as I watch Scully open the letter and starts to read.

"Mulder, I don't understand, where did you get this, or did you have
this with you? Did you write it while you were missing?

I put my free hand around her neck, to pull her close to me, and
kiss her. A long loving kiss, I love you, Scully, and the gift you
have given me," I tell her, looking down at our sleeping child on my
lap. "Scully, you will never believe this. I have a story to tell
you," I begin, as Scully wraps herself around me and we grasp hands
around our child.

The End

Note: This was a very long and strenuous story for me to write and
I thank so very much for all who helped me and encouraged me to
finish. This was a labor of love for me and I hope everyone enjoyed
it - hope it wasn't tooooooo sappy..
?

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Feedback please - but be kind, I'm a Pisces and emotional

CorrineLS@socal.rr.com

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