...all MSR all the time..
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Chapter 10
"God, my head hurts," I thought to myself as I began to surface from the most vivid dream I'd ever had. Before I opened my eyes I realized I wasn't in my own bed. Beneath me, the sheets were crisp and rough; I could smell disinfectant and hear the all-too familiar background noises of a hospital.
Gingerly, I opened one eye. The bright lights that assaulted me added to the throb in my head. I groaned and shut my eye again quickly.
"Are you awake, Scully?" The soft tone of Mulder's question brought back a flood of images from the dream I'd been having. My stomach flip-flopped and my cheeks grew hot. What would Mulder think if he knew what I'd been dreaming?
"Yes," I answered in a raspy voice. "But my head really hurts."
"You should be okay in a couple of hours." I felt him pick up my hand gently, adding to the fluttery feeling in my stomach.
"Are you all right?" I needed to know. He sounded fine, but I couldn't help worrying about him.
"I'm fine, Scully." I could hear the smile in his voice. "You're the one hooked up to the IV."
"IV?" I hadn't noticed; the pain in my head was overriding everything else. "Why do I need an IV?"
"Just to make sure you don't get dehydrated," he explained.
When I nodded in understanding, it made my head pound even harder. This was more painful than the worst migraine I'd ever had.
"What do you remember, Scully?"
"The last thing I remember is having a cup of coffee at the professor's house. What were we--" I began.
"That's the last thing you remember?" Mulder's voice shot up an octave.
"Well, I did have a really long, vivid dream," I admitted.
"That wasn't a dream, Scully." His voice had grown calm again and held a hint of amusement.
"It--it had to be," I stammered.
"The village, Omiga and Wanik; Madison, Eben and Rosaline, Jack-- it was all real, Scully. " Mulder's free hand came to rest on my abdomen, making me remember another aspect of what I thought had been a dream.
Tears squeezed out from under my closed lids. "Am I--am I really?" I didn't have the courage to ask the question.
"Yes, we're really pregnant, Scully," he assured me in gentle tones. "The first thing I did when I woke up, was make sure you and the baby were both okay."
"*Is* the baby okay?" I was immediately concerned. Despite the pain I knew would follow, I opened my eyes to squint at Mulder.
"Shh, close your eyes. The baby is fine. Apparently he time-travels much better than we do." Mulder leaned over and pressed his lips against my forehead. The throb in my head eased at his touch.
"He?" I laughed softly.
"Well, it sounds better than 'it'," he whispered, his lips still lightly touching me. "Now you go back to sleep. It's the only way you're going to feel better. They gave me some Gravol and a painkiller--the doctor said we were suffering from what looked like a really severe case of vertigo, but they can't give you anything for your symptoms."
"They hadn't given me anything before you told them I was pregnant, had they?" I panicked again.
"Shh, no, nothing. They knew you were pregnant before I told them-- it's something they check for when a woman of child-bearing age is brought in unconscious." His hand left my belly and began to stroke my cheek. "Relax and go back to sleep. When you feel better we can talk more."
His touch had a calming effect; his scent more soothing than any votive I'd ever bought. I closed my eyes and let his presence help me back to sleep. When I woke, I heard my mother's voice.
"She's awake, Fox."
"Mom," I croaked. This time when I opened my eyes, the bright lights didn't create any stabbing pain behind my eyes, only a mild irritation.
"Much better," I breathed. "Can I sit up? I'd like to have something to drink--I'm thirsty."
"Let me check with the nurse." Mulder got up and bent to kiss me lightly on the lips. "I'm glad you're feeling better."
As he turned to leave, I caught a small smile twitching the corner of my mother's lips.
"Did Mulder tell you what happened?" I didn't want to repeat things she already knew.
"He didn't tell me where you were, just that you'd been well- treated," she shrugged.
"Well-treated?" I laughed. "You make it sound like we were being held hostage."
"Well, one of the many charges against Dr. Mettler *is* forcible confinement," she pointed out.
"I guess that's true, technically," I had to admit.
"What do you mean, technically?" She arched an eyebrow at me.
I was about to explain when Mulder returned with the nurse. Before she would let me sit up and have a drink, the nurse insisted on checking my vitals. Once satisfied, she adjusted the bed and Mulder helped me sit up.
"Are you up to anything to eat?" She was fussing with my IV after having given me a glass of water with a bendable straw bobbing around in it.
"I'm a bit hungry," I decided when the cool water hit my empty stomach.
"I'll see about getting you some broth and Jello; you don't want to shock your system," she advised before she hurried off.
"Are you going to tell me what happened now?" I immediately recognized the impatient tone of my mother's voice.
"Why didn't you explain it, Mulder?" I was confused.
"I'd thought you'd like to tell your Mom," he shrugged.
"Okay," I replied slowly, not being sure why he wouldn't have told her. So I took a deep breath and launched into the story. Even though Mulder had apparently been afraid to tell my mother, he wasn't shy about interjecting details here and there that I'd left out. I intentionally neglected to mention any aspect of my personal relationship with Mulder and finished by telling her how I'd blacked out in the wood and woken up here.
"I don't understand why all of a sudden you wanted to go back and live with the Indians. I mean, I know that you liked them, but what made you decide?" My mother wondered.
"You don't have a problem believing we went back in time?" I laughed.
"It is astounding, but if you say that's what happened, I believe you."
"I did leave out the main reason I wanted to go back to the village," I confessed.
"What?" Her eyes grew wide.
"I'm pregnant," I couldn't help beaming.
"Pregnant? How?" she gasped. "Well, I know how," she blushed, glancing at Mulder, "but I thought you couldn't."
"I thought so too," I smiled, "and we still don't know how, but as far as I'm concerned, it doesn't matter. I couldn't be happier."
My mother's smile lit up her face and I saw tears welling up in her eyes.
"Do you know how far along you are?" She was blinking rapidly.
"They did an ultrasound," Mulder nodded.
"They did?" I was surprised.
"They wanted to make sure the baby was okay," he clarified.
"So, how far along am I?"
"Nine weeks."
"Nine weeks? That doesn't sound right, unless I've been out cold for a couple of weeks." I quickly did the math.
"I said the same thing. I told the doctor exactly when I thought you'd conceived. He said my dates sounded right, but the pregnancy was calculated from your last period," Mulder explained.
"Of course," I shook my head. "I knew that--I'm still a little groggy."
Before my food arrived, a tall, pleasant-looking doctor came to check on me. I reiterated all of my concerns about the baby, but he assured me everything was fine. But to be on the safe side, he wanted me to rest for a couple of days -- and he wanted that rest to be in the hospital. When I protested mildly, Mulder and my mother sided with the doctor. So I retreated, knowing I wouldn't win this one.
"When are you going to explain how we got back?" I asked Mulder as he was kissing me good-night; my mother was waiting in the hall.
"I was going to leave that to Skinner and the Gunmen, since they were responsible," he smiled.
"Skinner and the *Gunmen*?" I was astonished.
"Yup, they're coming to visit you tomorrow. I didn't want you to be overwhelmed today," he informed me before kissing me again.
"*Skinner*? And the Gunmen?" I repeated, still not believing it.
"Yes, Skinner and the Gunmen," Mulder laughed. "You get some rest, I'll see you tomorrow."
Before he could straighten up, I pulled him into another kiss. This one was less chaste than our recent kisses had been. I relished the feeling of his tongue teasing mine. For some reason, I still had a nagging doubt about his feelings for me, but as his hand tangled in my hair and his tongue plunged deeper into my mouth, my fears melted away.
"I should go," his voice had grown nicely hoarse.
"I wish I could come too," I grinned unashamedly at him. "I'm really feeling much better."
"Just another day or two," he breathed, "to make sure the baby is okay."
"Oh sure, play the baby card," I chuckled.
"I want you both to be safe," he told me earnestly.
"I know, Mulder. I miss you, that's all," I lowered my voice.
"Okay, I'm going now and if you continue this behavior, I'll tell your mother," he threatened me.
In retaliation, I stuck my tongue out at him. He was laughing when the door closed behind him. I wiggled around in the bed, trying to get comfortable and drifted off to sleep, the memory of his kiss soothing me.
When I opened my eyes the following morning I was shocked to find Mulder asleep in a chair.
"Oh, Mulder," I breathed. "You should have slept in a bed."
"I wouldn't have slept without you, Scully," he smiled and sat up.
"C'mere," I crooked my finger. When he was within reach, I grabbed him and kissed him fiercely. "I love you," I whispered when I'd let go of him.
"I love *you*, Scully. And I hope we never have to spend another night apart."
"Not if I can help it," I promised. "When did you come back?"
"After I dropped your mother off," he explained.
"My mother! How is she going to get back here?"
"She suggested I should come back when she saw how distracted I was. She said she could take a cab this morning. I offered to come and pick her up, but she said she would never forgive me if I did."
After breakfast, which was surprisingly similar to what I'd been eating for the past seven weeks, the nurse arrived to take care of a few things. When she told us what she was going to do, Mulder announced he was going to get some breakfast.
I was glad to be rid of the IV, but I will never get used to the indignity of having a catheter removed. I generally wasn't conscious when they were inserted. When Mulder came back with his coffee and muffin, the nurse was gone; he looked relieved.
"Everything okay?" he grimaced.
"Just peachy," I informed him, wryly.
My mother showed up bearing gifts -- well, flowers and my suitcase. Honestly, I was happier to see my suitcase and immediately changed into a pair of my silk pajamas. Then I brushed my teeth, combed my hair and put some moisturizer on my face. As I was smoothing the thin cream over my cheeks, I caught sight of my hand. My nails were ragged and chipped and my skin was dry and chapped. I wondered how long my hands would take to recuperate. When I opened the bathroom door, Mulder was standing there with my moccasins in his hand.
"Oh, Mulder," I gasped, "I'd completely forgotten. Thank you." I reached up and put my arms around his neck. His arms slipped around me and I instantly relaxed. Not that I'd been tense, but my body seemed to calm at his touch. "So we have my dress too, and your clothes?"
"Well, not my moccasins, I'd taken them off, remember?"
"Right," I was a bit disappointed, "but you do have your pants and vest?"
"I do, and you wouldn't believe the money I've been offered for that vest," Mulder commented.
"As long as you have the pants," I grinned up at him. "I *really* like those pants."
My mother chuckled from her chair and I felt my cheeks flush. Why was it I felt like I was 17 again? I wondered if I'd ever get used to being a sexual being around my mother.
I was back in my bed showing my mother the beadwork on my moccasins and telling her more about Wanik when Skinner appeared in the doorway.
"Are you up to some company?" He looked a little unsure.
"Sure," I smiled. It had always tickled me that he was so different away from the office.
He disappeared for a moment and then reappeared with the Gunmen trailing after him. They all smiled and politely said hello to my mother when she greeted them.
"How did you guys get involved in this?" I asked after I'd said hello.
"I brought them out here," Skinner informed me.
"You did?" I couldn't hide my shock.
"Maybe I should start at the beginning," Skinner suggested and then leaned up against the wall. "When you and Mulder hadn't checked in with the Milwaukee field office, they called to see if you'd checked in with me. It had been almost a week since anyone had heard from you."
"Why did it take them a week?" Mulder interrupted. He'd vacated the chair he'd been sitting in and had settled next to me on the bed.
"Your reputation, Mulder -- they assumed you weren't following proper protocol," Skinner wasn't happy to tell him.
Mulder drew a breath as if he was getting ready to debate the issue, but Skinner stopped him.
"I know what you're going to say, Mulder and I've already taken a pound of flesh on your behalf and one of my own; plus there's an internal investigation underway."
I slipped my hand into Mulder's and squeezed it gently. He squeezed back and smiled softly at me to let me know he was okay. When I looked back in Skinner's direction, I found all of the Gunmen staring at Mulder and me in surprise. Our boss, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice. He continued with his story, undeterred.
"So, I got on the next plane. When I got here, they hadn't accomplished much of anything. I decided to start at the beginning and go over the police records myself. Then I hit the streets to see if anyone there remembered you. A few people did, and they also said they'd told you about the professor, but no one knew his name, so I decided to try the university."
Mulder and I both chuckled; Skinner paused, waiting for us to explain.
"You're describing the exact steps we took," Mulder smiled.
Skinner nodded, "So I gathered when I got to UW. They remembered you, too, but *they* were able to tell me they'd sent you to a former colleague, Dr. Mettler. He seemed surprised to see me, but invited me in. He claimed no one fitting your description had been to see him, but I grew suspicious when he kept trying to get me to drink something."
Mulder and I exchanged guilty glances, but Skinner said nothing.
"We had a Bureau credit card receipt from a gas station a couple miles from his place, and the attendant remembered giving you -- well, giving Scully actually -- directions to Mettler's street."
I was impressed with Skinner's investigative skills. I was so used to his role as an administrator, I'd forgotten he'd done his share of field work.
"I came back the next day with a warrant and a forensic team. It didn't take long to find your fingerprints and a couple of what we assumed were Scully's hairs. We couldn't find anything that indicated you'd been harmed in any way, but when I confronted Mettler with the fact that we could prove you'd been there, he cracked. At first, I thought he was completely off his rocker, but then he explained the set-up we'd found in his basement."
"The time machine," Mulder interjected.
"So it would seem," Skinner nodded. "But it looked like nothing more than a computer when we'd first discovered it. At that point we still weren't sure what it was and when I pressed him for details, he just kept babbling about how it had been a failure -- how it only worked with inanimate objects. The local cops took him away, and he's being held pending psychiatric evaluation."
"What made him think it only worked on inanimate objects?" I was puzzled.
"Like I said, at this point, we didn't know what his set-up was supposed to do. I needed to access his notes, which were on his computer and I couldn't make heads or tails of it," Skinner admitted.
"And you called these guys?" I laughed. "The Bureau has all kinds of computer experts."
"None that know how to dissect a computer as completely as these gentlemen." Skinner's mouth twitched as he spoke.
"Gentlemen?" Mulder snorted. "And don't you mean hack?"
"I was asked not to refer to it as hacking. Hackers are unskilled and if they accomplish anything, it is only through pure luck." I heard a hint of sarcasm in Skinner's voice, but the Gunmen hadn't detected it -- they puffed up like little peacocks at his words.
Skinner then turned to the guys to let them carry on the tale, and Byers picked up where he'd left off.
"It only took Langly ten minutes to by-pass the professor's elaborate security, but that was the easy part," he began. "It took all four of us almost three weeks to match up his data with the corresponding digital diary entries. As we started to make the connections, it became increasingly clear Mettler had *indeed* successfully retrieved each person he'd sent into the past. The horrifying part was when Skinner finally realized when the professor said 'failure', he meant the subject hadn't survived. All ten experiments had been labeled as failures." Byers' tone was grave.
"They all died?" I was shocked. "What did he do with the bodies?"
"We wondered that too, but since his house backed onto the woods, we thought it would be a good place to start," Skinner took over again. "I called in a forensic recovery team; they found and exhumed all ten bodies. But when the autopsies were complete, the M.E. couldn't point to a cause of death. A few of the bodies were too decomposed to recover any information except for age and gender. The bodies that could be fully autopsied weren't of much more help. Some of the victims suffered from cirrhosis of the liver and most showed the effects of poor diet, but none exhibited anything that clearly indicated how they'd died. While I was focussed on that part of the investigation, these guys kept plugging away at the computer aspect."
"Yeah, as far as we could tell, we had it all figured out," Frohike jumped into the fray. "And it looked like it should work, which is what the professor thought too, I guess. So we were banging our heads up against the wall. That was when Skinman decided we needed professional help."
"I asked you not to call me that." Skinner was addressing Frohike, but glaring at Mulder. "And I thought you needed professional help the first time I laid eyes on you."
"You should've seen who came to help," Langly interjected. "Is there some requirement for lady physicists to have red hair?"
"So hot!" Frohike sighed. "You should've seen her when we first showed her the time machine--she was like a kid in a candy store." He had a far-away look in his eyes.
"Her name was Dr. McIsaac, by the way," Skinner told us.
I stole a glance at my mother; she hadn't said a word since she'd greeted everyone. As each person took his turn in recounting the events she would turn her head toward them. She seemed to be finding it all as entertaining as I was.
"So Julie -- Dr. McIsaac -- couldn't see why it hadn't worked either," Frohike continued. "The only thing we could think of was studying everything that was sent through much more thoroughly, to see if we could figure out what might have gone wrong."
"You mean Julie wanted to be more thorough," Langly contradicted. "You wanted to send yourself back to Dallas on November 22, 1963, with a digital video camera."
"Julie said she would do it once we could do it safely," Frohike retorted. "And we were almost there."
"What happened?" I tried to get them back on track.
"We were still in the process of seeing if there were any changes to things we sent through on the cellular level when you two suddenly appeared. First Mulder and then Scully landed right on top of him," Frohike laughed.
"You hadn't figured it out? How did we survive?" I was confused again.
"We figured out squat," Frohike shrugged.
I turned to Skinner, hoping he would be a little more helpful.
"He's right, Dana, we can only speculate right now. My best guess is you survived for two reasons. First, you both are in better health than any of the other subjects and second, you weren't brought back right away," Skinner theorized. "From talking to Mulder it sounds like you both suffered from this travel sickness when you first arrived, but it dissipated after a couple of hours. The best we can figure is the original subjects didn't survive because Mettler sent them back and then retrieved them within a matter of minutes. Maybe because of their poor health their bodies couldn't handle the shock."
"It shouldn't take much more research to figure that out," I noted.
All four men exchanged quick glances.
"What?" Mulder and I asked in unison.
"The time machine is gone," Byers informed us in a steady voice.
"Gone?" Mulder repeated.
"We had just loaded the two of you into an ambulance when a black sedan pulled into the driveway," Skinner started to explain. "I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw Norman Schwartzkopf and Colin Powell get out."
"Who?" I wasn't sure I'd heard him right.
"I swear that's who it was," Skinner assured me.
"I don't know what you had with your Wheaties, Skinman, but it was Bill Gates and Steve Jobs who carted off the computer and all of our research," Frohike argued.
"With your help," Langly ribbed.
"Well, they asked nicely," Frohike tried to defend himself.
"So, let me get this straight. You let them walk away with the time machine?" Mulder clarified.
Four heads nodded, and not one of them would meet our eyes.
"But Dr. McIsaac knows how it works. Couldn't she build another one?" Mulder clung to a faint hope.
"That's the other strange thing," Skinner shook his head. "She was at home, getting some rest, when all of this happened. When I tried to get in touch with her, I got a recording saying that number was no longer in service. Then I called UW and they said they'd never heard of a Dr. McIsaac."
"I thought they gave you her name." My head was starting to hurt again.
"They said they hadn't talked to me since the day I'd been there looking for information on Dr. Mettler," Skinner held his hands up in defeat.
"Why am I not surprised to hear that?" Mulder rolled his eyes.
"I knew she was too good to be true," Frohike sighed.
"You never had a chance, Melvin," Skinner groused.
"And you did, Skinman?" Frohike quipped.
"Okay, I think it's time for you guys to go," Mulder stood up.
"I asked you not to call me that," Skinner repeated as Mulder herded them out of the room.
"Then stop calling me Melvin," Frohike countered.
After the door closed, I could still hear them bickering in the hall. I'm sure they were all extremely embarrassed to have been duped.
"I'm still confused." My mother shook her head.
When Mulder and I tried to explain about the men in black, and the government taking the time machine for its own use, it all sounded even more convoluted.
"Never mind," She held up her hand. "You're both safe; that's all that matters to me."
When the doctor showed up during his rounds that afternoon, I managed to convince him I was fine. He agreed to release me on the condition that I rested for a couple of days before we flew back to D.C.
That evening we shared a meal with my mother at the hotel before retiring to our room. I was lying in Mulder's arms, still glowing from our lovemaking, when I had an idea.
"Do you have plans for tomorrow?"
"Not really," he answered sleepily. "I thought we might take your mother sight-seeing."
"That fits in nicely with what I'd like to do," I wiggled back against him.
"What would you like to do?" He nuzzled my neck.
"I thought we might be able to find a place where we could buy you some moccasins, to replace the ones you lost."
"It wouldn't really be the same," he pointed out.
"I know, but we could get authentic ones if we look in the right place. It's just something we could wear more regularly than the clothes to remind us -- kind of symbolic. You know what I mean?" I wasn't sure if he was conscious enough to understand me.
"You miss it a bit?" Mulder asked softly.
"I do. I mean, I wouldn't choose to go back; I missed my family too much. But I'd come to terms with it; I thought that was going to be my life." I tried to explain.
"I know what you mean," Mulder tucked a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. "I was looking forward to seeing everyone again. It feels as though we should be able to just drive over there."
"I know, it's strange to be separated by time, rather than distance," I agreed.
"Where did you want to buy the moccasins?"
"I don't know. We can figure that out tomorrow," I yawned.
"Mmm," he concurred. Soon he was snoring softly in my ear, and I followed him to sleep not long after.
By 10 o'clock the following morning we were on the road heading upstate. Using my laptop, I'd discovered that there was a reservation north of Green Bay that claimed to have a wide variety of authentic Native arts and crafts for sale in a store run by the band. We stopped for lunch along the way at a quaint restaurant just outside of Oshkosh. The drive turned out to be spectacular, the fall colors being out in full force. We even stopped a couple of times to take some pictures.
We got to the reservation around 3 and found the store with little trouble. We spent a long time looking around; my mother decided to take advantage of the occasion to do most of her Christmas shopping. Mulder and I found all kinds of moccasins -- some were even fur-lined, but we wanted plain. We found what we were looking for and a lot more. I found a blend of herbs that reminded me of the tea we'd been given in the village and a dream-catcher I really liked, although we hadn't seen anything like that. Mulder found a book on native legends and I couldn't resist buying one on folk medicine. Both of us reached for a cookbook at the same time, and we bought a couple of pounds of wild rice, too.
The clerk smiled when we put everything down on the counter, "Did you find everything you were looking for?"
"And then some," Mulder laughed.
When we were finished, my mother unloaded her selections onto the counter.
"Are you folks from out of state?" she smiled.
"Is it that obvious?" Mulder grimaced.
"If you lived nearby, I doubt you'd buy so much at once," she shrugged.
"True," Mulder nodded. "We're from the D.C. area."
"Never been there," the clerk informed us. "But I'd love to see the Smithsonian. I hear it has some cool stuff in it."
"I've never even seen it properly," I admitted. "It would take days to see the whole thing."
"Isn't that the way when you live close to something?" she shook her head. "You never really appreciate what you have."
"It's true," I had to agree. "When we go on vacation we always want to go to some distant place, when there is plenty to do right in our own backyard."
"Seems like more of a vacation when someone else makes the bed and cooks the food, though" she winked.
When she'd bagged all of our purchases we discovered we had too many parcels to carry ourselves, so she graciously offered to help. When we were almost out of the door I heard someone call my name from the back of the shop, but they pronounced it Day-na. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
The clerk turned around, "What, Sandie?"
"Phone," the voice informed her.
"I'm busy, tell whoever it is I'll call them back in a minute."
"Okay," Sandie sang from her hiding place.
"Your name is Day-na?" Mulder inquired as we headed out to the car.
"Yup," she nodded.
"Is it a traditional name?" "It is. I know it sounds like an Anglo-Saxon name, but there's a legend behind it," she told us.
"Really?" Mulder sounded interested.
"You want to hear it?"
"Please," Mulder smiled; my mother and I nodded.
"Well, I'm a Fox Indian -- there aren't many of us around here, most of the Fox Indians live in Oklahoma. Anyway, the legend says the totem of the Mesquakie, the fox, visited us in the form of a white man to show us that eventually we would all live in peace together."
As she told the story I could feel goosebumps starting to rise on my skin. My mother knew enough about our experience to be staring in disbelief. A big grin was spreading across Mulder's face.
"He brought his mate with him, and although she was in human form, she still had the red hair of the fox. She possessed a special healing gift and saved the life of the child who would grow up to make peace with the white man. The fox and his mate liked being in human form so much they wanted to stay and live among us. But it was not meant to be and the spirits pulled them back to their own world."
Hearing this made me realize Jack must have told the story of our disappearance to everyone at the village. In the time we'd been back I hadn't really had time to think about the effect it might have had. But I would never have expected what she was about to say.
"I am named for the fox's mate -- it means breath of life."
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