TITLE: Guardian (Part 1 of ?)

AUTHOR: R. Franke

RATING: PG-13

CLASSIFICATION: MSR, Bill Scully POV

SPOILERS: Through Roadrunners, and my stories The Letter and Wedding Toast. Not a series, just a shared universe.

SUMMARY: "Uncle Bill, what was my father like? You talk about my mother sometimes, but you hardly ever mention him."

DISCLAIMER: Scully, Mulder, et al. are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, the Fox Network, the actors, writers, and all other persons known or unknown with a legal claim on the characters. All characters unique to this story are the property of R. Franke. This is a story of fan fiction, written for the purpose of personal satisfaction and the enjoyment of others, and monetary or other compensation is neither expected nor desired.

COPYRIGHT 2001 by R. Franke

Part I

"Uncle Bill, what was my father like?"

I look at my niece, her brilliant blue eyes focused on her bedspread as I reach out and tuck a stray lock of chestnut hair behind her ear. "What do you remember about him?"

"I'm not sure if I remember anything," she whispers, one hand plucking nervously at her nightgown. "You talk about my mother sometimes, but you hardly ever mention him."

I smile slightly. "The first time we ever met I called him a sorry somebody."

I can see her chin tremble. "You didn't like him?"

"Of course not, he liked the Yankees." I take her chin in my hand and tilt her face up. "I won't lie to you and say your father and I were ever best buddies, but he was a good man. He loved you, and he loved your mother."

"I can see them," she says suddenly. I raise my eyebrow in silent inquiry. "I-in my mind. I can see them. They're looking up at me. And it's like I can feel Daddy's hands around me as he holds me up. And he's laughing and smiling, and Mommy's smiling too and she's saying something, but I can't understand her." Her chin starts to tremble again. "Why can't I understand her?"

"You may not have been able to understand her then."

"What do you mean?"

"You were pretty young when they died."

"Were killed, Uncle Bill," she reminds me, her voice solemn. "And we had to start hiding."

I blink at the reminder. Five years. Five years since my sister and her husband were gunned down in front of their only child. Five years since I had been Bill Scully. "Yeah," I say, my voice hoarse. "Were killed."

"I'm going to find them, Uncle Bill," she tells me. "I am going to find them and expose them, just like my parents wanted."

"That's going to take a lot of work," I reply.

"I know."

I force a smidgen of lightness into my tone. "And right now, young lady, your job is to go to sleep."

She smiles and scoots under her covers. "'Kay, Uncle Bill. Love you." She holds out her arms imperiously.

"Love you too, sweetheart." I bestow the goodnight kiss she demands and tuck the covers firmly up under her chin. "Think about them smiling at you," I order. "Remember that."

"What is it?" Tara asks as I enter the main room.

I sigh as I settle beside her. "She was asking about her father."

"Oh." We both stare at the flames crackling in the fireplace.

I break the silence. "She plans on exposing them."

"That's too dangerous," Tara snaps. "We're safe now."

"If we were safe," I reply calmly, "we'd be Bill and Tara Scully right now, not Bill and Teri Sprague."

"I know."

We continue to stare at the fire as memories unspool in my head, scenes painted in the flames.

We're at the Maryland World War II memorial. It's a beautiful site, on a bluff across the Severn River overlooking the Naval Academy and the city beyond. Dana had taken me there to show me the names carved in the simple black granite slabs. George M. Scully. John H. Scully. Thomas F. Scully. Our grandfather's youngest brother, and two of his cousins.

ComSubPac had kicked my case straight upstairs to the Navy JAG and the SecNav, and two hours after I had turned myself in to him I was on a direct military flight to Washington. The SecNav had slapped a gag order on me and told me to stay available, so I did what anyone else in my situation would do. I went to see my family. I wanted to remember how they looked without bars between us.

I was thinking about how the Scullys had believed Mr. Roosevelt's promises of a better life and come up out of the Appalachian coalmines when Dana's cell phone rang. "Scully," she answered crisply, moving outside the ring of slabs. "I'm showing Bill the memorial," she had continued in a noticeably softer tone, "I think it'll help." I could hear the smile in her voice as she said, "you too, Mulder," and cut the connection.

"How long?" I asked as she stepped back into the memorial.

"How long, what?" she replied evenly.

"You and Mulder. How long?"

"Bill, we've been partners for-"

"Dana," I interrupted her, trying for the look our father always gave us when we had done something wrong. It seemed to work on the young men under my command, but I doubted I could pull it off on someone that had been exposed to the real thing. "Just because you're the smart one in the family, doesn't mean the rest of us are stupid."

She had blushed and looked away, then turned back and looked me square in the eye. "Just recently." Her eyes, her stance, had been both plea and challenge.

"Jesus, Dana, I-" I ran my fingers through my hair. I don't know what stopped me from exploding the way I usually did. Maybe it was the quasi-sacred air of the memorial. Or maybe it was my own precarious situation as I waited for the Navy to decide my fate. Whatever the reason, I just sighed and said. "Just be careful, Dana. Please?"

Her jaw had actually dropped at that, but she recovered quickly and smiled at me. "I will." She laid her hand on my arm. "He's a good man, Bill."

"That's what you said about that Ethan character," I replied as we headed back to her car. "And let's not even mention Daniel."

One corner of her mouth crooked up in a small smile. "All right, I admit it, you were right. He was an obnoxious jerk." An eyebrow rose. "But if we're going to talk about Daniel, shouldn't we talk about Lisa as well?"

I smiled faintly in reply. "We've both made some mistakes, haven't we?"

"Yes, we have." She stood, one hand on the driver's door and looked at me over the car roof. "Bill, I know how much Missy's death affected you, but promise me you'll give Mulder a chance, take the time to get to know him."

"One chance," I replied as I opened my door. "Have you talked to Charlie lately?"

"I talked to him the other day," Dana replied, putting the car in gear and pulling out of the parking space. "He's put down a deposit on a place in Columbia."

"Good. I was starting to think he'd decided to go native after the divorce." Dana made a little noise of amused agreement as I continued. "Can't say as I miss her, or those little monsters of hers."

"They weren't that bad, Bill."

"Aunt Olive's dentures, Mom's Waterford crystal, Uncle Pat's ashes-"

"No, you're right," Dana interrupted. "They were a couple of little monsters."

"Prepare to surface," Commander Petersen ordered. The helmsman looked over at him with a questioning look.

"Sir-" I began.

Petersen whirled on me. "Are you questioning my orders again, Lieutenant Commander Scully?"

"You should have, you know. Sir." Chief Mendoza commented from behind me. I turned to see his pale, water-bloated face regarding me calmly. Other forms, other faces gathered in the water behind him, around him. Around me. "Questioned. Maybe if you had, then," he shrugged.

"I-I wasn't, I wasn't- I thought, I had to be wrong, it would have been mutiny," I babbled as the Selby rose and struck the keel of the Chinese destroyer.

"You know what I miss, Sir?" Thornton said. "Meatloaf. My mom used to make the best-"

"What about my little boy, sir?" Newman thrust the picture of his newborn son at me. "How's he going to grow up without his daddy?"

"I did everything I could," I protested as they surrounded me, their voices overlapping as they drew me deeper and deeper, my lungs aching until my mouth opened, the water flooded in and I woke up gasping, tangled in sweat-soaked sheets to find my wife leaning over me. "T-Tara?"

"Shh," she soothed me. "It was a dream. That's all. It's not real. Just a dream."

Commander Petersen nodded as I sat down on the bench beside him. "So," he greeted me. "It never happened."

"No sir," I replied. "It didn't."

"And nineteen good men are dead in a, what was the phrase the SecNav used? An unfortunate accident." His voice was bitter as he stared out over the Reflecting Pool. "And all because of me."

I shook my head. "You were injured, sir. You weren't thinking clearly. I knew something was wrong. So did Arboit. I should have acted sooner."

My former captain turned to me with a sardonic smile. "The only thing that would have accomplished, Bill, would be to put you in front of a court-martial with only the snap diagnosis of a corpsman as your defense. If we had survived at all."

"I should have been," I replied.

Petersen snorted. "We both should. But then everything would come out, and nobody wants that. Not even the Chinese." He looked out over the Reflecting Pool again. "Goddamned politicians."

"What are you going to do now?" I asked finally.

"Molly and I have some property near Lafayette. We've always thought Louisiana would be a nice place to retire to." He smiled slightly at the expression on my face. "It's not like they'd ever let me have a command again, Bill."

"I know, it's just-"

He stopped me with a wave of his hand. "It's not what I expected either. But I'd rather go now, then after ten years of unimportant postings where I can't do any harm." He looked down at his hands, then up at me. "What about you?"

"I'm staying. It's not like I know anything else." I turned my gaze to the Reflecting Pool. "My promotion has been delayed for administrative review."

"For how long?" I shrugged silently in reply. "Those sons of bitches. And the Parrish? Who'll command her, if you're still an LC?"

"I guess whoever's next on the list. In the meantime they're sticking me in a shore billet."

"Have you been told where yet?"

"No." I let out my breath with a huff. "God damn politics."

I hadn't let anything stop me from exploding when Dana told us Mulder had disappeared, leaving her pregnant. I was still fuming when she walked out the door. "Aliens? Little green men from Mars?"

"Bill-" Mom had begun, but I was still on a roll.

"That son of a bitch. He got what he wanted from her then instead of doing the right thing and taking responsibility he went back to chasing his damn lights in the sky." I turned to Charlie. "I can't believe I let you talk me into inviting him to Hatteras." Four days fishing off Cape Hatteras was a tradition for the Scully men. The only outsiders we had ever invited were Tara's father, her brother, and Charlie's two brothers-in-law from his short-lived marriage.

"Hey, I'm not exactly overjoyed he turned out to be such a putz myself," Charlie replied. "Hell, I liked the guy. And Dane seemed pretty happy."

I shook my head. "That lousy, no-good, good for nothing bas-"

"William Francis Scully, Jr.," Mom snapped then. I knew that tone, that voice that still saw me, and worse yet, made me see myself, as a disobedient little boy. "Fox Mulder may have his faults, and God only knows he's not what I'd consider an ideal partner for Dana, in any sense of the word, but he does care for her. He always has, and the idea that he would just leave her like this-" She shook her head. "Whatever happened to him, it wasn't by his choice."

"But, abducted by UFOs? I mean, come on."

"Oh, I don't believe for one minute flying saucers had anything to do with it. It's more than likely he's dead and they just haven't found the body yet. But right now your sister is facing the reality of being an unwed mother, and if you think there is anything more frightening than that," Mom paused and took a deep breath. "If believing aliens took Fox is what Dana needs to help her deal with-"

"Dana," Charlie said. Mom and I turned to see Dana standing in the doorway.

"I left my keys," she said, scooping them off the table by the door.

"Dana, honey, I-" Mom began.

"Like mother, like daughter, huh Mom? It's a damn good thing Dad got back when he did." She smiled tightly. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised you think he's dead. After all, it didn't take long before you were buying my tombstone." I heard Mom draw in her breath in shock and anger at Dana's words. "They're gray, not green," she had continued coldly. "And from somewhere a hell of a lot farther away than Mars." Dana turned on her heel, then stopped. Facing the door, she continued "I have seen things, things that I cannot explain, things that make me wonder if goodness and justice and mercy are nothing more than lies we tell ourselves to stave off the terror of reality." She turned back to face us, eyes blazing, fists clenched tight and trembling. "But whatever the truth is, I will fight them, by Mulder's side if I can, alone if I have to, but I will fight them, and damn you to Hell with my last breath." She left then, slamming the door behind her so hard one of Mom's paintings fell off the wall. It would be over a month before I saw her again.

"Good evening, sir," the two midshipmen chorused.

"Good evening, Ms. al-Rashid, Mr. Dutton." I nodded as we passed on the street. I was out of uniform, so the two had properly not saluted. "Oh, Ms. al-Rashid?" I called, turning back to face them.

The two turned to face me. "Sir?" she asked.

"That was an inventive solution to the exercise this morning. Not exactly standard tactics."

She stiffened. "Sir, yes, sir. No excuse, sir." Beside her, Dutton stiffened as well.

I smiled slightly, shifting the bag of groceries to a more comfortable position. "That wasn't a reprimand, Ms. al-Rashid. At ease, the both of you." The two of them relaxed slightly, eyeing me warily. "Mr. Dutton, am I right in assuming the diversionary attack on the supply ship was your doing?"

"Sir, yes, sir."

"I have one question for the two of you. How would each of you have countered the other's actions, if you were in the opposing force?"

"Sir, we would-" al-Rashid stopped as I held up my hand.

"I will expect a complete analysis of the exercise, your tactics, all possible counters to those tactics, and all possible counters to those counter-tactics on my desk at the start of class Monday. And I expect separate, independent reports from each of you. Be prepared to defend your analyses. Have a pleasant weekend, Ms. al-Rashid, Mr. Dutton." I nodded and turned quickly before they could see the smile that threatened to break out on my face. I imagined they had the same murderous thoughts towards me that I'd had towards my Tactics instructor whenever he decided to single me out for extra work. Truth was, with al-Rashid's penchant for coming up with off-beat solutions to tactical problems that logically shouldn't have worked, but somehow did, and Dutton's unerring instinct for the weak points of an enemy's defense, they were two of my finest students, and would make fine officers as long as they didn't become overconfident.

I was still smiling slightly as I opened the front door of our townhouse. "Hey, beautiful."

Tara looked up at me. "Hey."

I bent over and gave her a quick kiss. "How was work?"

"Six car pileup at the 50/97 interchange," she answered, following me into the kitchen. "Some idiot tried to get to the exit from the hammer lane. EMT's said he walked away with barely a scratch."

I looked over at her. Tara loves her work, always has. My share of Grandfather O'Hanrahan's legacy and the portfolio my flaky twin set up for me meant we could afford for her to take some time off when Matthew was born, but once he was old enough to safely leave with a sitter, she went back to work. Fortunately for our peripatetic lifestyle, a good ER nurse is always in demand. "I take it someone else didn't?" I asked quietly, handing her a beer.

She took it and drank half the bottle before she replied. "Yeah. Some kid. Sixteen, seventeen. Eighteen at most. Pregnant. We lost her on the table. The child wasn't far enough along to be viable." She slammed the bottle down on the counter. "Fuck."

"You want me to go get Matthew?"

She smiled and shook her head, handing me the beer. "No, I've got some other errands I need to run. The fish is all ready, just stick it in the oven. Broil for twenty, then check. You know how to do rice. I should be back around seven or so." She leaned over and kissed me. "Salad and wine are your department, sailor boy," she called as she grabbed her coat and headed out the door. I turned on the radio and sang along while I put the rest of the groceries away and finished preparing dinner.

"Door's open," I yelled when I heard the knock.

The knob rattled and I heard Charlie faintly yell, "Guess again, big brother." I wiped my hands on a dishtowel and headed down the hallway.

When I opened the door Dana was standing there beside him. I looked at Charlie as she shoved past me into the hall. "We've already talked with Mom," he said quietly. "Figured I'd better get you two talking too."

"This was his idea, not mine," Dana spoke up. "I doubt you and I have much to talk about."

"Dana, you promised," Charlie said.

"Playing peacemaker again, Charlie?" I asked. He nodded slightly. Mom usually smoothed things over whenever we had a family fight, but Charlie would pinch-hit for her occasionally. "Tara should be back with Matthew in a bit."

"Actually, I called earlier," Charlie replied. "Asked her to give the three of us a little time alone."

I raised my eyebrow. "The usual?" I asked as we went into the living room. Charlie nodded, and I turned to Dana. "Ginger ale?"

Her eyebrow went up. "Good guess."

"It seemed to help Tara when she was, when she was," I stopped and gestured vaguely towards her stomach. The slight bulge that was there the last time I had seen her had grown. There was no mistaking her condition now.

She smiled mirthlessly. "The word, Bill, is pregnant. I am pregnant with Fox Mulder's child. And whatever happens, I won't regret that. Not my child, and most especially not the father of my child."

"Jesus Christ, how the hell can you still defend that asshole?"

"I love him."

"And that means you alienate yourself from your family, you speak to Mom like that? What the hell kind of love is that, Dana? Answer me that."

She looked down, biting her lip. "You're right, I shouldn't have said what I did to Mom-"

"You're damn right you shouldn't have." I interrupted harshly.

"Bill-" Charlie started.

Dana glared up at me. "But it's not like you've ever been supportive of me, of the choices I've made."

"Well, gee, Dana, that got kind of difficult when you kept changing your mind all the time. Oh, I want to be a marine biologist. I mean a physicist. No wait, a doctor. No, no, not a doctor, a pathologist. Oh wait, an FBI agent, and I really, really mean it this time," I mimicked savagely. "What's next, Dana? Ballerina? Fairy Princess? You're nothing but a damn dilettante. You have no idea of what Mom and Dad had to give up so you could get those fucking diplomas you're so proud of."

"The hell I don't," Dana shot back. "But I guess you never had to wonder what you'd do with your life, did you? You've always had it so fucking easy. You just did what Dad wanted you to do and never even bothered thinking for yourself." She smiled scornfully. "Of the two of you, it seems like Missy got the balls."

"I worked my ass off to get into the Academy because I wanted to, and I am damn good at what I do," I growled. "Not because of what Dad wanted, or Missy, or anyone else. Especially you." I leaned forward, my voice low and shaking with rage. "This discussion is over."

"Like hell it is," Dana growled back through clenched teeth. "This is my fucking life, and if you can't accept that-"

"Can't accept? Can't accept? What the hell does that mean? If accepting means finding out, sometimes months later, that your fucking life means you've landed in the goddamned hospital again, and just saying 'Oh well, that's her job', then hell no I don't accept your fucking life." I practically spat the last words out at Dana.

"I knew how dangerous the FBI could be when I joined," Dana replied heatedly. "The same way you goddamn well knew when you decided to make fucking attack subs your goddamn life. Just who the hell do you think you are?"

"I'm your goddamn brother."

"My brother. Not my fucking keeper."

"You need one, cause its for damn sure-"

"Enough!" We both jumped as Charlie slammed his hands down on the coffee table. "From both of you. That's enough."

"Like hell it is," I growled.

Dana sighed, and her shoulders slumped. "Billy, I know I've chosen a dangerous profession. I know the risks, but I cannot just turn away and hope somebody else will do what has to be done."

I felt my own shoulders sag slightly. "That doesn't mean you have to jump up and down shouting 'Here I am, come get me' all the time either," I replied softly.

I smiled as Charlie wiped his brow in exaggerated relief. Dana laughed. "And playing hide and seek with a Chinese antisubmarine squadron is playing it safe?"

"What?" Charlie looked at me.

I stiffened. "That's top secret information, Dana. How do you know about it?"

"Shit." Dana looked down guiltily. "I ah, I have some friends, sources, that kind of, um, keep track of things for me, sort of, in ways that most people can't."

"Things?" I asked. "What kind of things?"

Dana took a deep breath. "The two of you. Mom. Tara and Matthew. When nobody could raise the Selby, and then later when your name started burning up the wires between D.C. and Pearl, well," she held up her hand as her cell phone rang. "Scully." Her eyes widened. "What? Where? If you're lying to- Damn." She hung up and turned to Charlie. "I need your keys."

"Dana-" Charlie began.

"There's a John Doe at Shock-Trauma. It's Mulder. Give me the damn keys."

"You can't be sure," I interjected. "You-"

Dana shook her head. "It's him. I know." She turned back to Charlie. "Keys. Now."

"I'm driving," Charlie replied.

"Fine, whatever, let's go," Dana demanded.

I scribbled a quick note to Tara and grabbed my coat, slamming the door behind us.

Dana burst through the door of the emergency room holding her identification in front of her like a weapon. "Federal agent," she barked as Charlie and I scrambled in her wake. "You have a John Doe, male, six-foot, brown hair, about forty years old. Where is he?"

The admitting nurse looked up calmly. "I believe he's still in surgery, Agent-?"

"Scully," Dana replied, tapping her fingers impatiently. "Doctor Scully. Where?"

"If you would like I can send- Doctor Scully, you can't go in there!"

Dana had whirled away and headed for the hallway leading to the operating rooms. A security guard, some kid who looked like he wasn't even old enough to shave yet, moved to stop her. She held up her badge. "That man in there is a missing federal agent. Move. Now."

The guard's eyes swiveled to us. Charlie and I exchanged looks, then he silently held up his State Department ID. I held up my Naval ID.

The kid swallowed, his prominent Adam's apple betraying his nervousness. We hadn't done this since we were kids, the Scully gang marching into a new school, on a new base, just daring someone, anyone to try something. The kid's eyes slid down and away as he stepped aside.

Charlie handed him a business card as Dana stalked forward. "Your bosses give you any trouble, tell them to give me a call." I could almost see Melissa patting his cheek in gentle sympathy as we walked by.

We caught up with Dana when she stopped and looked in a window. I could just see Mulder's face, bruised and crusted with dried blood as the doctors worked on his body. "Mulder," Dana murmured brokenly, pressing her fingers up against the glass. "Please God."

"Jesus," Charlie drew in his breath with a sharp hiss. "What is he-"

"Internal cardiac massage," Dana replied, her voice a flat monotone. One of the nurses moved and I could see Mulder's upper body and the surgeon with his hand inside Mulder's chest. I recognized the heart monitor, and the flat green line running across it.

"Why aren't they using those paddle things?" Charlie asked.

"He's on a backboard," I replied. Charlie looked over at me. "Spinal injuries."

"Possible spinal injuries," Dana replied. She gave a gasp as the line on the heart monitor jumped, then a steady series of spikes marched across the screen. She pulled out her cell phone, punched a long series of numbers into it and held it out to me, eyes never leaving Mulder's form. "You'll need to go outside. Hit send, that'll connect you to the Gunmen. Tell them who you are, tell the guys to turn off the damn tape, tell them," she choked back a sob, "tell them we've found Mulder." I took the phone from her. "Seven is AD Skinner's cell," she continued, "tell him, tell him," her voice trailed off.

"I've got it, Dana," I replied softly.

Charlie nodded at me and slipped his arm around Dana's shoulders. "Mulder's a tough guy, Dana," I heard him murmur as I walked away. "He'll make it."

"You better make it, Mulder," I muttered as I went back outside. "I swear I'll kill you if you hurt her again. You got that, you son of a bitch? You die, I'll kill you." I took a deep breath, pressed send and held the phone up to my ear.

I heard a computerized voice start. "Thank you for calling the offices of the Lone Gunmen, publishers of the Magic Bullet and-"

"Turn off the damn tape."

The computer voice clicked off, to be replaced by a suspicious human. "Who are you, how did you get this number, and what are you doing with Agent Scully's cell?"

"Bill Scully," I answered shortly. "Dana told me to call you."

"My God, it's him, isn't it?" the voice at the other end of the phone demanded. "It's Mulder. That report- You're at Shock-Trauma, right?"

"Right, how did you-"

"We picked it up on the scanner. Byers is on his way there now to check it out. Tell Scully Langley and I are on our way." I could hear somebody scrambling in the background as he slammed the phone down. I pressed seven and brought the phone back up to my ear.

"Skinner," a gruff voice answered.

"This is Bill Scully," I began.

"What's wrong?" Skinner interrupted. "Agent Scully, is she-"

"Dana's fine, Mr. Skinner," I broke in hastily. "It's Mulder. He's back."

Skinner was silent for a moment. "Where are you?"

"Baltimore," I replied. "University Hospital."

"I'm on my way." Skinner hung up.

I dialed my house. "It's me."

"I got your note. Is it him?"

"Yeah, he's in surgery. Looks pretty bad. They've got him on a backboard, and they had to do an internal heart massage."

"Jesus," Tara breathed. "Is Dana with you?"

"She's with Charlie," I replied. "I couldn't use her phone in the hospital."

"Right. Tell Dana to hang on. I'll get Mrs. MacLeod to watch Matthew."

"Love you, sweetheart. For everything."

"Love you, too," she repeated. "See you soon."

I dialed Mom's number. "Mom, it's Bill."

"What's wrong?"

"Mulder's been found. Mom, it doesn't look good."

"Where's Dana?"

"We're at University Hospital here in Baltimore," I answered. "Charlie's with her now. Mulder's still in surgery."

"Tell Dana I'm on my way." Mom ordered. "Go help your sister. Take care of her."

"Yes ma'am," I replied. I hung up and went back inside.

A slender man, clad in a gray three-piece suit stood at the admitting desk. "I'm looking for a John Doe that was brought in tonight, white male, brown hair-"

"Are you Byers?" I asked.

He turned and took a step back when he saw me. "Commander Scully? What-" His eyes widened. "It's him, isn't it? It's Mulder. John Byers." He held out his hand automatically.

I shook it perfunctorily. "Bill Scully. But you knew that. And yes, it's him." I nodded to the security guard as we walked through the door. "You're one of Dana's friends, aren't you?"

Later, we sat in the lounge outside the ICU, Tara and Charlie and I on one side of the room and the men who called themselves the Lone Gunmen on the other. AD Skinner sat off a little by himself. Dana and Mom were in Mulder's room. He'd come through the surgery okay, now the only question was when, and if, he'd ever wake up.

"You're the nurse, Tara," Charlie said softly. "Tell me Mulder's in that bad a shape because of an accident."

Tara shook her head. "I can't. If all the wounds were the same age I'd say yes. But he's got fresh bruises, bruises at least a week old, some two weeks old, or more, chemical and electrical burns, cuts and lacerations, all in various stages of healing. Either Mulder's been in an incredibly unlikely series of accidents, or…" her voice trailed off.

"Or somebody did this to him," I finished. I glanced over at the Gunmen. "I don't know about those guys."

"Dana trusts them," Charlie replied quietly.

"Sir?" I looked up to see a man in a rumpled suit standing in the doorway.

"What is it, Agent Doggett?" Skinner asked as he got up and joined the other man in the corridor outside.

I shook my head. "No. There's more going on here."

"Need to know, isn't that the phrase?" Tara asked.

"If it involves my family, I need to know," I replied.

"Jesus, Bill, what is it with the two of you?" Charlie ran his fingers through his hair, the first rays of the rising sun glinting off his Academy ring. "You and Dana both. You're like dogs with a bone."

"Look at the shit Dana's gone through," I said, leaning forward. "That we know of."

"You think there's more?" Tara asked.

"Dana's always tended to be kind of close-mouthed." Charlie answered.

"What do we know?" I continued, ticking points off on my fingers. "Every time I come back, it seems like she's been in the hospital for something or other. Missy's getting shot by somebody who thought she was Dana. That time when Dana disappeared. That whole business with that kid Emily, which I still don't understand. That chip in Dana's neck that's supposed to have cured her cancer."

"Wouldn't that count as a good thing?" Tara asked.

"If it was, wouldn't there be some sort of news about it?" I countered. "A cure for cancer? My God, there are millions of people around the world who would worship you as the Second Coming of Christ Himself if it really worked. But nothing. What's wrong with this picture?"

Charlie nodded. "It was supposed to be experimental, wasn't it? Isn't that what Mulder said?"

"Actually, he said it was alien," Tara replied, rolling her eyes.

"Then there's Mulder," I continued. "The man's a total nut-job and a complete shit-head, but damned if that means somebody can do that kind of shit," I waved my hand in the direction of Mulder's room, "to him. To anybody."

"So you're thinking enemy action," Charlie replied.

"Yes."

"When you put it like that," Charlie spread his hands. "Like Tara said, the only other explanation is an incredibly unlikely series of accidents and coincidences. So what do we do now?"

"We talk to Dana," I replied. "Until we know who the enemy is, we can't figure out how to fight him."

"No," Tara broke in. "I mean, not yet," she continued as Charlie and I turned to look at her. She took my hand in hers. "Right now Dana is wondering if she'll ever again be able to look into the eyes of the man she loves. She's wondering if the father of her child will ever get to hold his son or daughter in his arms. The last thing she needs right now is you two badgering her. Let her get through this. If- when," she corrected herself, "Mulder comes out of his coma, we'll all know more. But not yet."

Charlie looked at me. "She's right."

"She usually is," I replied. "No questions. For now." I looked over at Tara and squeezed her hand, wondering how much of the thoughts and emotions she attributed to Dana had ever gone through her mind. She smiled back at me. Whatever fears she felt while I was at sea, she'd never let me know.

I looked up as Skinner came back into the waiting room. "There will be a guard on Mulder's room at all times. We'll need a recent photograph from each of you. Don't." This last comment was directed at Frohike, who had opened his mouth in protest. "The agents will be keeping a record of all persons who enter and leave Mulder's room." He paused for a moment, obviously uncomfortable.

"Thank you, sir," Dana's voice came from the doorway. Mom stood behind her, worry plain on her face. "The injuries to Mulder's back appear to be much less serious than we originally thought," Dana said as she moved into the room. "They've finished what tests can be done on him while he's still unconscious." She took a deep breath. "Mulder's involuntary reflexes are within normal parameters, anything," her voice shook for a moment, "anything else will have to wait until he wakes up."

"Dana-" Charlie began.

"Scully-" Frohike began at the same time.

Dana held up her hand. "Go home, get some rest, all of you."

"And you, Dana?" Tara asked.

"I'm staying."

Tara pulled her car keys out of her pocket. "I know. I'll ride home with Bill and Charlie." She pressed the keys into Dana's hand. "Keep the car as long as you need it."

"Thank you," Dana whispered. She looked around. "Thank all of you." She gave us a tiny, tremulous smile, then walked back to Mulder.

We rode the elevator down in silence, the Lone Gunmen turning one way as we stepped off the elevator, heading for the back parking lot while the Scullys headed for the hospital's front door. "Wonder what crawled up Skinner's ass this time." I looked up to see two young men in suits walking through the hospital's main entrance.

"More shit for the Slice Queen," his companion replied. "Fucking bitch gets knocked up and now she's crazier than Spooky ever was." His nose made a crunching noise under my fist as he fell to the floor.

"What the-" the first agent pulled his weapon. "Hold it right there, asshole."

"Put up your weapon, Agent," Doggett barked.

"Sir-"

"I said, put up your weapon, now." The agent complied, bending down to help his companion to his feet. Doggett turned to Mom. "Mrs. Scully, on behalf of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, I humbly apologize for the behavior of these two gentlemen." The two agents flinched at the blandness of his tone as he uttered the last word.

Mom inclined her head regally. "Thank you, Mr. Doggett."

"Report to AD Skinner and get that nose taken care of," Doggett ordered. The two younger agents glared at me and walked away. "Again, I apologize-"

"How much of that does Dana have to put up with?" Charlie demanded.

Doggett sighed. "Too much." He gestured to a group of couches forming their own little nook. We settled on the couches in silence. Tara examined my hand as Doggett began to speak. "When I was first assigned to the X-Files I tried everything I could to get out of it. After all, this was the assignment that had destroyed the careers of the golden boy of Behavioral Sciences and the fair-haired girl of Quantico."

"You mean Dana?" Tara asked.

Doggett smiled. "I talked to some people who were around when Agent Scully graduated. The smart money had her running Pathology in ten years, the entire Forensics Lab in twenty."

"It sounds to me as if you don't feel that way about the X-Files any more, Mr. Doggett," Mom said quietly.

"No ma'am, I don't." He ran his fingers through his hair. "When I started I didn't think much of Agent Scully. I was prepared to cut her some slack because her partner had gone missing, but the woman I met then would never have made it into the Bureau in the first place. That went on for about a month, maybe six weeks or so and I was beginning to think her reputation had been vastly overblown." He waved his hand. "Yeah, the X-Files under her and Mulder had had one of the highest solve rates of any division in the Bureau, but that could be explained by them not getting any of the real tough cases. After all, Mulder was supposed to have connections to some pretty powerful people, people who had worked with his father and grandfather. And hell, the cases- sorry, ma'am, uh, ma'ams," Doggett apologized. Mom and Tara nodded back at him.

"Anyway," he continued, "I don't know what happened, but suddenly I saw why she had that reputation." His mouth twisted in a half-smile. "Now I don't even try to keep up with her. I just do the legwork. And I understood both why so many people hated," he grimaced, "Spooky and the Slice Queen, and why they were the ones who got called in to solve the cases that couldn't be solved, the ones everyone else had given up on."

"The Slice Queen," Mom repeated. "Not very imaginative, is it?"

Doggett grinned. "No ma'am, it isn't." His smile died. "Do you know why they started calling Mulder Spooky?"

"I assume it had something to do with the X-Files," Charlie answered.

Doggett shook his head. "He got it back in Behavioral, from the way he could get inside a perp's mind. It didn't become an insult until after he threw away a brilliant career to go chase little green men. Then the Bureau administration assigned a hotshot doctor to rein him in, debunk his claims, maybe even give them an excuse to shut the X-Files down, in spite of Mulder's supporters." He snorted. "Mulder'd been assigned other partners before, of course, either agents on their way out or agents being punished. Needless to say, they didn't make very good partners."

"Is there a point to this, Mr. Doggett?" I ground out.

"The Bureau's a pretty cutthroat place, filled with ambitious people who will do anything to get, and stay, on top," Doggett replied.

"So?" I challenged.

"Would somebody high up in the Forensics section be one of these ambitious people?" Charlie asked slowly. "And would one of the things they might do is get a hotshot subordinate sent to a career killing assignment?"

Doggett smiled grimly. "Such things have been known to happen, Mr. Scully." He ran his fingers through his hair again. "I originally headed up the task force looking into Mulder's disappearance. I studied his file, and hers. I talked to people about them. I learned Fox Mulder was an arrogant, egotistical asshole and Dana Scully an ice-cold, ball-busting bitch. And that they were unfailingly courteous to everyone. Not only their fellow agents, but also the lab techs, the secretaries, even the damn cleaning lady. That neither of them suffered fools gladly." He smiled slightly. "No matter what their position. Although Agent Scully tended to be more diplomatic about it. That they flat out would not play the political game." He sighed. "Even with all that, they still could have gone back, to Behavioral, to Quantico. Even now." He stared off into the distance. "Either one of them could have what everyone's supposed to want, hell, what I want, and they've tossed it aside." He looked back at us. "She's a tough woman, that whole business with that slug thing convinced me of that." He waved his hand dismissively. "Long story. The point is, Dana Scully is probably one of the smartest, toughest people I know, man or woman, and one of the finest investigators I've ever worked with. What you heard there was nothing more than envious gossip, repeated by sycophants. Don't take it seriously. Agent Scully doesn't. And don't worry about Agent Chims, Commander. He's been up before OPR for conduct unbecoming once already."

"Thank you, Mr. Doggett," Mom replied as we all stood. "It means a lot to know Dana and Fox have someone on their side."

"They have more than they know." He nodded slightly and headed for the elevators. "Oh, and one more thing," he added as the elevator doors opened. "As far as I know, nobody's ever dared use that name in front of Agent Scully." He nodded again as the elevator doors closed.

Mom turned to me. "As for you, young man," she began.

I held up my hand. "Yes ma'am, I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Mom just nodded in reply as we walked out the doors. I turned to Tara as a thought struck me. "What did you drive?"

"The truck," she replied.

"My briefcase is in the back."

"Do you have your keys?"

"No. I'll be back in a bit."

Doggett was standing guard in front of Mulder's room when I got off the elevator. "I just need to get something real quick." He nodded and stood aside as I opened the door to see Dana sitting beside Mulder, holding his hand.

"-smoking bastard asked me to perform his autopsy." By the time the sentence was finished Dana had her gun out and pointed at me. "Jesus, Bill." She reholstered her gun and smiled nervously. "Sorry, I'm a little on edge."

I blinked. "I just came back so I could get my briefcase out of the truck," I said slowly. "It's got student papers I have to give back Monday."

Dana tossed me the keys. "Umm, Bill, could you not-" her voice trailed off.

"I think Mom has enough to worry about," I replied. "At least keep the safety on?"

"Always," Dana replied. I chose to believe her.

When I returned Dana was standing in the hallway confronting a man who looked vaguely familiar. Doggett and Skinner stood in front of Mulder's door, far enough away to be out of earshot, but both men were watching intently. "Believe it or not, Agent Scully, we're on the same side."

Dana snorted as I stopped. Neither of them had noticed me yet. "The only side you've ever been on is your own," she retorted. "Did you come here for a reason or is this just morbid curiosity?"

"If it was just morbid curiosity, I would have let Mulder die as an unidentified John Doe." His mouth quirked in a one-sided smile. "As I said, we have a common enemy." He shrugged then, and his tone lightened. "Not to mention, I always have been a bit of a romantic. Until next time, Agent Scully." He turned towards me and gave a sardonic smile. "Eavesdropping is almost as impolite as mutiny, don't you agree, Commander?"

My eyes focused on his left hand, his artificial left hand, and the pieces clicked into place. "Alexander Krycek."

His face paled and he stepped back. "I didn't pull the damn trigger."

"Close enough," I growled, taking a step forward.

"Bill, no." Dana stood in front of me, her hand on my chest. "Not yet." She turned her head to glare at Krycek. "Not yet," she repeated. We watched as he walked away. He shoved what looked like a Palm Pilot into Skinner's chest as he passed, never even bothering to slow down. Skinner barely caught the device before it hit the floor. "How did you know who he was?" Dana asked after Krycek had turned the corner and disappeared.

"Do you think you're the only one with friends, Dana?"

"Keep out of it, Bill," Dana replied. "For Tara and Matthew's sake, keep out of it."