What Cost, Friendship? (2/2)Date: Wed, 6 Jan 1999 02:43:53 EST 
Title: What Cost, Friendship? (2/2)
Author: Daydreamer
Author E-mail: Daydream59@aol.com
Rating: NC-17 for violence
Category: SA - ADV
Spoilers: None
Keywords: M/Sc/Sk friendship
Archive: Yes, please.
Feedback: Yes! Please! 
Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, and Skinner are owned by Chris Carter,
1013 Productions, Fox Television Network, etc. They are wonderfully
brought to life by David Duchovny, Gillian Anderson, and
Mitch Pileggi. I will make no profit from this, and neither will Fox
if they sue me, for I am poor and have nothing material they can
profit from. 
Summary: With the threat of Scully's cancer returning,
CSM blackmails Skinner into another covert operation. When
Mulder finds out what is happening, he insists on being
involved. 
Comments: For the background on Skinner's Viet Nam era
covert ops experience, you need to read "Retrieval," available at
Daydreamer's Den: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Dunes/2113/
It can also be found at the WalterTorture site:
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shadowlands/7855/ 
What Cost, Friendship? 05a/08 
The man rose languidly and walked to stand behind Mulder
and the children. "It would seem, Mr. Skinner," he said,
"that this is the second time you have been called into play
to assist our mutual friend in his struggle for control. Do you
not find that an awkward position to be in?" 
Skinner's eyes had gone black, and he narrowed them as he
stared at the man, then shrugged. He had no time to waste
on power games and issues of control. He had to find a way
to salvage the situation and still get everyone and everything
out of here. And he was running out of time. One plan had
presented itself but he didn't like it, and he didn't think Mulder
would either, but he had yet to think of another option. 
The man was still speaking. "... so it really just comes down
to that." He paused and waited but Skinner had missed the
vital points so he remained unspeaking, unmoving. 
Finally, the man spoke again. "Your decision, Mr. Skinner?
You can take Agent Mulder or the vials, but not both." 
Ah, that was what he missed. His brow furrowed as he tried
to figure Mulder's importance in all of the covert power
plays that seemed to surround the X-File department. Mulder
would never leave without the vials, and Scully would never
accept the chip if it was purchased with Mulder's life. He'd
already been through this circular argument. 
"You can even have the children, Mr. Skinner. They are no
longer of use to us as we are shutting down this facility now
that it has been breached. Consider it your payment for services
rendered. Your thirty pieces of silver so to speak." He nudged
the boy, but the child wrapped his arms around Mulder's leg
and clung to him. 
Mulder bent slightly and whispered to the boy, then gently
pried the small hands from his legs. He placed the little
girl in Steven's arms and pushed the boy forward. The boy
took two steps, then stopped and looked back at Mulder.
"You said you were gonna take me home, Fox," he said
with just the slightest whine. 
"Walter will," Mulder replied. "Walter will take you home." 
"He's scary, Fox, like the other guys here." 
"He's not really scary, Steven, he just acts that way to
scare the bad guys. Inside, he's a real nice guy. He'll
get you home in no time. You take Jess and go on over
there now, OK?" Mulder smiled encouragingly at the
boy, then looked at Skinner, nodding toward the children. 
Skinner spoke for the first time. "Come, Steven. Bring
the baby and come stand with me." He tried to smile at
the child but it felt more like a grimace and he was afraid
he'd done more damage than good though the boy did
start moving again. 
The tension in the room was palpable. Every nerve in
Skinner's body was on fire and he was sure Mulder felt
the same. No other options had presented themselves
so he was ready to act on his plan. He needed the children
out of the way though. When the boy finally reached him,
Skinner gently directed him to stand behind and to the side
of himself, never taking his eyes off the other man as he did
so. 
"Stay there, Steven," he said softly. When the boy started
to put the baby down, he added quickly, "And please hold
onto Jess." 
Steven hitched her back up on his hip, but said, "She's
getting wiggly, Walter. And she's heavy." 
"I know. Can you hold her till we get things settled here?
Just a little longer?" 
The boy nodded. "Isn't Fox gonna come with us?" 
"We're working on that." Skinner's eyes were still locked
with the man standing behind Mulder. 
The man had been quiet through the whole exchange.
"Which is it, Mr. Skinner? Agent Scully or Agent Mulder?" 
Skinner's chest grew tight. So this was the cost of friendship.
When you let someone into your heart, you had to make
painful choices. How could he choose between Scully and
Mulder? He shook his head. He couldn't. 
"Neither. I'll stay, and Mulder takes the vials and the
children and goes." 
"NO!" Mulder was adamant. "That was not an option,
Sir." 
"Quite correct, Agent Mulder. That is not an option." 
The man was still standing behind Mulder, carefully
keeping his agent between himself and Skinner. There
was no way Skinner could get a clean shot at the man,
unless Mulder moved. And with the gun in his back,
Mulder was not likely to move of his own accord. 
"Why is that not an option?" Skinner asked curiously.
He was still searching for another way to move Mulder. 
"You are not as important to the program as Agent
Mulder. Or Agent Scully for that matter." The man's
voice took on a thoughtful tone. "Though I will admit
our smoking friend has found a creative way to use your
natural talents." 
"So I can have Mulder, or I can have Scully?" Skinner's
voice had dropped to a dead monotone. Had Mulder
known him better, he would have recognized that as a
sign that Skinner was detaching, preparing for action. 
"Your choice, Mr. Skinner." 
"I don't like that choice." Skinner's hand flashed and
a star flew, striking Mulder hard in the thigh, sinking deep
in the muscle there. The younger man screamed, then
dropped without thinking, and Skinner's hand moved
again, and this time it was the man behind Mulder who
fell, a star protruding from his chest. Skinner was across
the room before the man hit the floor, the gun kicked loose
from his hand, and a knife sliding in to finish the job his
star had started. 
He knelt beside the man, staring into his eyes as the life
slipped slowly from them, his hands warm in the crimson
that flowed over them. And for the first time in over thirty
years, there was no flush of excitement, no endorphin
high. This man had almost killed someone he cared
about, and killing him had been a necessity, not a
game. 
Skinner's head dropped for a moment, and then slowly,
he began to take in the surroundings again. The children
were crying, and Mulder had crawled over to them and
was trying to soothe them. He looked up to see the trail
of blood Mulder had left and knew he needed to get his
agent's wound bandaged, and they needed to get out. 
He pulled his star and knife from the body. Who was this
man? What was his role in all of this? More unanswered
questions. He looked up to see Mulder with his hand on
the star still embedded in his thigh. "No," he called,
"don't. Let me get it." He tried to smile again, then
added, "After all, I put it there, I should take it out." 
He wiped his weapons on the man's clothing, then restored
them to their hiding places. He pulled himself to his feet
and walked over to where Mulder had pulled himself to
sit, leaning against the wall. Jess sat on Steven's lap,
teary-eyed, with thumb in mouth, and the boy was talking
to her between his own quiet sniffs. As Skinner approached,
Steven cringed slightly and Mulder was quick to soothe
the boy. 
"Shhh, Steven," he said, "it's all right. Walter's here to
help us." 
Steven nodded and Skinner knelt beside Mulder, looking
at the star embedded in his leg. He shook his head ruefully,
then rose and walked to the small cabinet and took one
of the diapers. 
"Why did Walter hurt you, Fox?" Steven asked. 
"Hur' Pox," Jess echoed around her thumb. 
Mulder tried to smile. "It was the only way to get us out
of here. I told you my friend was good at this stuff." 
Skinner slipped off his shirt and began to rip it, making
long strips of the material. 
Steven was staring up at the older man, his eyes wide in
admiration but still tinged with a little fear. "He's like
Hercules, isn't he? He can really get the mean guys." 
Skinner had torn the bottom of his shirt and formed several
lengths of the cloth. He pulled what was left of the shirt back
on, then cut the diaper up, and laid both cloth and diaper
beside Mulder, kneeling again. 
Mulder laughed and said. "Yeah, he is in a way." He reached
out and touched Skinner's arm, forcing the older man to meet
his eyes. "I'm just glad he's on our side." Mulder's hand
tightened for a moment, then he let go, and clenched his teeth.
"Go on, Sir, take it out." 
"Gonna hurt," Skinner muttered, looking closely at the star
and the depth it was buried. "I think it hit bone." 
"It already hurts. And I *know* it hit bone. Just get it out." 
Skinner shifted, sitting on Mulder's leg just below the knee,
trying to immobilize the younger man as much as possible.
Once settled, he took hold of the star and pulled steadily, his
own muscles bunching with the effort. Mulder's eyes were
closed and his whole body was rigid as he fought for control.
Skinner was sure he was trying not to frighten the children
any more than had already occurred. The star was deep, and
it was resisting even Skinner's considerable strength; obviously
it had not only hit bone, but was embedded there. 
"Sorry," Skinner murmured again, then he wiggled the star to
break it loose. Mulder stiffened even more, then his whole body
relaxed. Skinner grunted. Mulder had passed out. At least he
wouldn't have to suffer through the rest of the extraction. Skinner
shifted his grip, threw all of his strength into it, and the star
finally came free. 
"Is Fox all right?" Steven asked, tears still hovering in his
eyes. 
Skinner nodded. "He'll be OK. This hurt and he's resting
now." Skinner had the piece of diaper pressed tightly over
the wound, covering the little geyser of bright red blood
that had erupted with the weapon's removal. Bright red meant
arterial. They could only hope it was one of the small surface
arteries that was nicked, and not a deeper, life-threatening one.
It should respond to his pressure and stop bleeding if it was
the surface kind. 
Skinner continued to bear down on the wound, glad that Mulder
was unconscious and not having to suffer through this as well.
After what he felt was a sufficient period of time, he gently
lifted the diaper and checked. The bleeding had stopped. He'd
gotten very lucky this time. He hadn't killed his friend. He
placed another piece of the diaper over the wound and bound
it there with the strips from his shirt. 
Rising shakily to his own feet, he walked to the sink and
filled a plastic cup with water. He also wet a small towel
and came back. Wiping Mulder's face carefully, tenderly,
he shook the man gently, and called his name. 
After two or three more shakes, Mulder came to. Even
though his eyes were still closed, Skinner was aware that
the younger man was back with them from the shift in his
body posture from totally relaxed to tight and stiff. Skinner
stroked his face once more, then asked, "You with us?" 
"Oh yeah," Mulder answered, "with you and aware of
*everything.* Is it out?" 
"Yes," Skinner responded, "and I'm sorry." 
Mulder waved the apology away. He opened his eyes and
saw the cup in Skinner's hand. "For me?" 
Skinner nodded and started to hand it to Mulder, but noted
the trembling in his hand, and held it to his lips instead.
Mulder took several swallows then nodded. "Thanks."
The two men stared at each other for a long moment, neither
one quite sure of what to say. 
Finally, Jess reached out from Steven's lap and patted Mulder's
shoulder. "Got owie?" 
Mulder took a deep breath and then gave a shaky laugh.
"Yeah, Jessie, you could say that." The baby reached for him
and he took her, settling her in his lap. "What do we do now,
Sir? I'm afraid my mobility is compromised." 
"I know." Skinner stood and began to pace. "Do you think you
can walk at all?" 
"Probably, but I doubt I'll be moving very fast." 
"I can help him," Steven said. 
Skinner regarded the small boy seriously and said, "Thank you,
Steven. I'll rely on you for that." He turned back to Mulder.
"Did you get the things needed for the baby before --" he stopped
and pointed with his thumb back over his shoulder toward the
body -- "that?" 
"Steven changed her, but we didn't pack the supplies." 
"Steven?" Skinner spoke to the boy now. "Can you take this,"
he dumped his pack and handed it to the boy, "and put the diapers
in it for me?" 
The boy nodded and moved to perform his chore. 
Skinner lowered his voice. "Mulder? Have I scarred the kid or
anything? I mean, seeing that ... well, it can't be good for him." 
"I'm not sure what has happened to them, but I don't imagine
any of it has been fun. I think he's doing amazingly well
considering he's been ripped from his family and God knows
what they've done to him. I haven't even had a chance to ask
him." 
"What about his sister?" Skinner nodded at the baby in
Mulder's lap. 
"She's not his sister," Mulder said flatly, and Skinner's eyes
widened in surprise. "I know. That's what I thought too. They
sure do look alike, don't they?" 
"Are they -- could they be -- well, you know?" 
"I don't know. Anything's possible, and there must be some
reason they were here." 
Steven was back now, the full pack in his hand. "Are we
going now?" he asked. 
Mulder nodded. "Just as soon as I get up. Here," he lifted
the baby and set her on her feet, "hang onto her for a minute." 
Steven took the baby's hand and pulled her a few steps away,
giving Mulder room to maneuver. Skinner leaned down and
put his arms around Mulder's chest, then lifted. A strangled
gasp slipped out, but other than that, Mulder was quiet. His
forehead was bathed in a sheen of perspiration, but he was up
and he leaned against the wall, holding Skinner's arm for
additional support. 
"You all right?" the AD asked gruffly. 
"Just fine," Mulder mumbled. "Give me a minute, OK?" 
Mulder closed his eyes, breathing deeply, and Skinner
stood watching him closely. Steven was watching as
well, and all three were jolted from their concentration
when the baby suddenly said, "Bang!" 
Skinner whirled to find her holding the dead man's gun,
pointing it directly at him. Oh shit! There was no special
ops course in the world that covered this situation. 
He was moving without thinking, scooping the child up,
pulling the gun from her hands gently, holding her awkwardly
when she began to cry. "We've got to go, Mulder," he said. "I
can't control this environment." 
Mulder nodded, then spoke. "Give her to Steven." He looked
at the boy. "You need to hold onto Jess for a bit. You can put
her down if she gets heavy, but you've got to hang onto her,
OK?" 
The little boy nodded, then took the baby's hand. "That was
bad, Jess," he scolded. "Bad girl." 
"Bad Jess," the baby echoed happily, and Skinner shook his
head. Could you control an environment where children were
two of the variables? He didn't know, but he assumed he
would be finding out shortly. Quickly scanning the room for
any more dangers, he knelt to sort through the items he had
dumped from his pack. He pocketed many of them in the
special waist pack he wore beneath the borrowed scrubs.
The remainder he passed to Mulder, who slid them into his
own borrowed pockets. The last item, a second pack made
of nylon, he unfolded and studied for a moment. Pulling a
knife, he made several modifications, then sat back and looked
at what he had created. 
"Bring the baby over here," he ordered and Steven complied
quickly. 
The boy walked back to stand beside Mulder, reaching up to
carefully slip his small hand into the agent's much larger one.
He looked up at Mulder and said, "He's a good guy, right?
And he really is in charge, isn't he?" and Mulder nodded. 
The baby was looking cautiously at Skinner, and he wished
Mulder were able to bend down and do this. The younger
man seemed to have established a rapport with these two
right off. Perhaps because he was so much like a child
himself in many ways. He debated on how to handle his
next move, then just decided to hell with it. He was not
going to debate a two year old. He picked the little girl
up and set her in the modified pack, her legs slipping
through the holes he had made. He zipped the side to hold
her securely, then used some of his cord to wrap around
her to make sure she wouldn't fall. He hefted the pack
and slipped it on, then wrapped the cord around himself,
tying the baby to his torso. 
Skinner looked up to find Mulder watching him in
amazement. "Well, what else was I going to do?" he
asked in exasperation. "You know I have to have my
hands free, and you can't carry her now." 
"I can carry her," Steven piped up. 
"You carry her pack, please," Mulder interjected quickly.
"That would be a big help." 
Steven nodded and put the pack on, turning obediently when
Skinner knelt to tighten it for him. "Now, Steven,"
he began, "I told you before you would have to hold onto
Fox, but that won't work now, because I am going to
have to help him walk. So you need to stay right with us." 
The boy was nodding, but Skinner went on. "I mean
right with us. I need to be able to turn around and touch
you, that's how close you have to stay. And no talking
unless it's an emergency, OK?" 
The boy nodded again, and Skinner rose and walked to
Mulder. He put one arm around his waist, then Mulder
threw his arm around Skinner's shoulder. The baby
patted Mulder's arm happily, then leaned over to plant
a sloppy kiss on his ear. "Pox," she said. She touched
Skinner's head, her chubby little hand polishing his
bald pate. "Who dat?" she asked. 
Mulder smiled despite his pain. "Walter, Jess, that's
Walter." 
"Oh. Wa-tah." 
"Good, Jess. It's Walter," Mulder praised. 
"Wa-tah, Wa-tah, Wa-tah," the baby prattled happily. 
"Mulder," Skinner suddenly had a thought, "how do we
keep her quiet?" 
"We don't. We can't. We just get out of here as quick
as we can." 
"Shit." 
"Szit," the baby echoed. 
"You, uh, might want to watch that, Sir. Her parents aren't
likely to appreciate her new, more colorful vocabulary." 
"Shit," Skinner repeated, then shook his head. "Sorry," he
added sheepishly. 
"Szit," Jess said again, giggling, and Steven laughed too. 
Mulder just looked at Skinner this time. "Shall we move?" he
suggested. 
They turned to the door and were ready to leave, when another
thought crossed Skinner's mind. "Steven," he asked, "do
you have to go to the bathroom?" 
End part 05a/08 
What Cost, Friendship? 05b/08 
The secondary exit of the air-shaft was out now. Mulder
wouldn't be able to make the crawl. That meant retracing
their steps to the stairway. Though they were back in
the more heavily frequented front end of the complex,
they were completely undisturbed as they made the trek
back. 
Mulder struggled gamely along, jaw clenched tightly
against the pain, only speaking to softly murmur to the
baby, "Shh, Jess, shh." 
What had taken them twenty minutes to cover coming in,
took almost an hour going out. And there was no way
Mulder could travel seven miles through the woods
before day. Skinner knew he had to find another place,
closer, where they could stay till full dark tonight. He'd
seen several on the way in, his natural instinct to always
have a backup kicking in, but the closest of those was
about two and a half miles out. 
He looked at Mulder. The man was still moving as
fast as he could. No word of the agony he must be in
with each step jarring the wound. Could he make another
couple miles? Skinner shook his head. He didn't like it,
but there was no choice; he'd have to make it. 
They had reached the stairwell, and Skinner lowered
Mulder to sit on the stairs. He retrieved the items
they'd left there, sorting through them rapidly. He changed
his clothes back into his all black from before, then helped
Mulder change as well. In deference to Mulder's injury,
Skinner pulled the dark clothing on over Mulder's "guard"
uniform. The younger man was in considerable pain, and
every movement wracked his body, but there was nothing
to be done for him now. Skinner rummaged in his supplies,
and produced another black shirt, and pulled it on over
Steven's head. It hung past his knees and the short
sleeves hung below the boy's elbows, but it covered most
of his light colored clothing. 
Pulling out a small pot, he began to blacken his own face
again and was startled when laughter bubbled up from
Steven. 
"Me, too," the boy cried. "Do me, do me!" 
Skinner laughed softly. "Shhh, remember? And I'll
do you next, OK?" 
The boy smiled happily, then eagerly lifted his face up
when it was his turn. When Skinner was done, he asked,
"Aren't you gonna do my head too?" and this time it was
Mulder who laughed. 
"Your hair covers your head Steven," he said. "I don't
have to do my head either." Mulder pointed to his own
dark hair. Mulder was streaking his face as he spoke, the
paint mixing with the pain sweat that layered his skin.
He finished and asked, "What about her?" 
Skinner shrugged. The baby was asleep and he didn't want
to risk waking her, but she would be visible if she began to
move. He thought a moment then shook his head. "Let
her sleep. At least she's quiet." 
Mulder nodded and let Skinner pull him up. They managed
the stairs again, though there was no controlling the
creaking this time. Once at the top, Skinner slipped out
first, then motioned Steven forward as he helped Mulder again.
They moved unmolested to the front door, out to the porch
and down the steps. Skinner scanned the area again. No
vehicles in sight. Not a good sign. The breach had been
reported and they were evacuating the complex. The man
said they were terminating, and Mulder had heard that from
the guard earlier. So they knew about the breach, but were
they still searching for them? 
No way to tell. Have to assume they were. He half pulled,
half dragged Mulder through the yard to the woods and then
they all faded into the trees. 
The sun was beginning to come up when they reached the
backup spot Skinner had decided on for their day's wait
for night to fall again. Mulder was gray when Skinner
lowered him to the ground. Gray and cold. He checked
the bandage. The wound was seeping blood again. He
looked up at Mulder, warning him with his eyes, and
received a brief nod of approval. Skinner pressed hard
on the wound, and felt Mulder stiffen involuntarily. He
held the pressure for long moments, watching silently
as Mulder gritted his teeth and tears formed in his eyes.
At last, he peeled back the bandage again and looked.
The bleeding seemed to have stopped. For now. Mulder
was going to have to move again, and that was likely
to start it up once more. 
"Steven, you need to stay here with Fox, OK? I'll
be back as fast as I can." 
The boy nodded and then Skinner turned back to Mulder.
"Mulder? Hey, Mulder, wake up." The younger man
was already half asleep -- or was it unconscious? 
Mulder lifted heavy lids and peered up at the AD.
"Where're you going?" 
"I need to go get our stuff." He peered back over his
shoulder and saw Jess was still sleeping. "I'll take her
with me and be back as soon as I can." He focused on
Mulder again, handing him a gun out of Steven's sight.
"Mulder, you've got to stay awake till I get back." 
"Yessir," Mulder slurred. "I will." 
Skinner nodded. Mulder would do the best he could. 
He took off through the woods at a steady trot, moving
quickly, but not fast enough to wake the baby still
sleeping against his shoulder. He reached the tree
with their supplies, pulled them down and slung one
pack over each arm, boxing Jess in behind him. 
He turned to head back, acutely aware of his own injury
and blood loss. And his age. He was feeling his age.
It took longer to retrace his steps and the sun was full up
when he finally reached Mulder and the boy. Mulder
was awake, but barely aware of his surroundings, and
Steven was asleep in his lap. At some point, Mulder had
stripped off his outer shirt, and pulled the uniform shirt
off, using it to cover the small boy. He must have exhausted
himself in the effort, for the black turtleneck was still on
the ground beside him, and Mulder sat shivering in
the early morning dew. Skinner suppressed the fear, and
the anger born of fear, that the sight of Mulder's pale chest
gave him. Anyone looking for them would be able to
see them from a mile away. 
"Mulder," he called softly, not wanting to startle the barely
conscious man into shooting. "Mulder? You with me?" 
Mulder stirred, looking blearily around, his eyes finally
lighting on Skinner. "Yessir, 'm here," he mumbled. 
Skinner knelt and took the weapon from his agent's
numb fingers. The man was like ice! "Here," he said
quietly, lifting the shirt and pulling it down over Mulder's
head, "Let's get this back on, OK?" 
"Sorry, sir," Mulder mumbled. "Steven was so cold." 
And you weren't? Skinner once again felt a mix of admiration
and anger at the way this man was able to put everyone ahead
of himself, regardless of the consequences. 
"It's all right, Mulder," Skinner said calmly. "I've got the
bedrolls and no one needs to be cold. You can let yourself
rest now. I'll take first watch." 
Mulder nodded gratefully and let his eyes close. "Wake me
for my turn," he mumbled even as he drifted off to sleep. 
Skinner dropped the packs, and began to pull the
bedrolls out and make spaces for the children and
Mulder. He had the clearing set the way he wanted it,
the alarms were laid out, and he was moving the boy to
the first bedroll when there was a muffled explosion from
the direction of the farmhouse. 
The project was officially terminated. 
End part 05b/08 
What Cost, Friendship? 06/08 
Skinner got up again and began to make the same small circle
he'd paced so many times before. The baby was squirming in
the makeshift pack and he had a feeling walking wasn't going
to settle her this time. He sighed, then glanced over at Mulder
again. If only he would wake up. Mulder could keep the baby
entertained for a while and then he could possibly grab a few
hours sleep. Skinner jostled the baby once more, but nothing
seemed to be helping to settle her. 
"Did you change her?" a small voice asked. 
Skinner stopped and turned to look at the boy. Change her.
That was what he had forgotten. He wrinkled his nose in
distaste. 
"She's probably hungry too. Do you have anything to eat?"
Steven continued. He was climbing to his feet now and looking
around the clearing curiously. "Uh, Walter?" he asked. 
"Yes?" Skinner answered absently as he worked the knot on
his chest free so he could put the baby down. 
"Where do I go to the bathroom?" 
"I set up a latrine area over there." Skinner waved toward a
small thicket of bushes near a natural ditch. 
"What's that?" 
Skinner sighed again. The knot came loose and he slipped
the pack off, rolling his shoulders for a moment as he enjoyed
the relief from the weight. He pulled the baby out of the pack,
settling her against his chest then immediately holding her out
at arm's length. "She's wet!" he exclaimed. 
"Well, duh!" Steven responded. "Babies get that way if you
don't change them. Don't you know anything?" 
Skinner dropped his head and murmured, "Apparently not."
He set the baby on her feet and she began to wander about
the clearing. He watched her a moment, then decided this
was not too bad. She was just looking at things as she toddled
around. 
"I really need to go, Walter," Steven said again, and Skinner
nodded. 
"Here, come with me." He led the way to the temporary latrine,
and provided a handful of leaves in response to Steven's request
for toilet paper. He waited until the child was done, then led him
back to the clearing. Mulder was still sleeping in his bedroll;
his condition seemed unchanged. Skinner scanned the area quickly,
then scanned again. 
"Where's Jess?" Steven asked. 
Shit! Where was she? "Steven," Skinner ordered, "go and sit
with Mul - Fox. DO NOT move from his bedroll, OK?" 
The boy nodded and went and plopped down next to Mulder,
who opened his eyes and asked, "Wha'?" 
"Walter lost Jessie," Steven volunteered, and Skinner felt
his skin flush. 
Mulder was struggling to rise now, and Skinner had to waste
valuable time soothing the man, and forcing him to stay and
"watch" Steven. And more time instructing Steven to "watch"
Mulder. Shit! He was never going to find the child. 
He set off through the woods, quietly calling, "Jess? Jess?
Where are you?" Fuck! How far could a two year old go
in woods this dense? He called again, and then realized
he'd reached the perimeter alarm. He turned, looking for
anywhere she could have gone and began to make a circle,
working his way back in toward the camp. 
He was walking past yet another fallen log, still softly
calling the baby's name, when he heard a tiny giggle. He
froze and called again. "Jess? Come to Walter." 
He was rewarded with a little louder giggle, and then
a small voice echoed, "Wa-tah." 
He bounded over to the log and found the baby sitting
in a pile of leaves, her pajama bottoms and diaper sitting
next to her. She looked up at him and smiled. "Hi, Wa-tah." 
His head sagged as he realized how ridiculously pleased
he was to see the child. He knelt beside her and held out
his arms and she stood and came to him. 
"Jess," he whispered into her soft baby hair. "You scared
me." 
"Jess wet," she said fussily, pointing at the soiled diaper. 
"I know," he answered. "I'm sorry. C'mon," he stood, holding
the baby in one arm, and the wet diaper and pants in the other.
He headed back to base camp, saying, "We'll take care of that." 
The baby was playing with his glasses, her little fingers leaving
smears all along the lenses, and tickling his ears where the frames
rested. With both hands full, there was nothing he could do to
stop her, so he endured it stoically. 
He reached the clearing to see that Steven was still sitting by
Mulder, but his agent was unconscious again. From pain or
blood loss, Skinner didn't know, but he needed to find out. 
He put the baby down, then took out a diaper. He spread the
child's legs and was in the process of situating the diaper
between them, when he heard a distinct giggle from behind
him. 
He turned to face Steven. "What?" he asked. 
"Not like that. It'll never stay on. You have to lay her down." 
Skinner carried the baby to the bedroll and set her down, but
she immediately popped back up. He gently laid her down
again, and watched for a moment to make sure she stayed
there, then turned to retrieve the diaper. When he turned
back she was up and gone again. He looked around and
saw her smiling at him from across the clearing. 
He rose to his feet again and went and got her, settling her
on the bedroll once more. She promptly rolled over on her
stomach and began to crawl away. 
Steven was laughing out loud now, and Skinner was getting
more than a little annoyed at both children. Was it his
fault he didn't know how to do this? He reached out and
caught the baby's feet, pulling her back gently and turning
her over again. With one hand on her tummy, he slid
the diaper up under her bottom, only to hear Steven call,
"No, Walter, not like that. That's backwards." 
Walter looked back at the little boy. "Do you know how to
do this?" 
The child nodded. 
"Well," Skinner paused, reaching for control, "I really would
appreciate it if you would take care of this for me," he said
through gritted teeth. 
"Sure," Steven said, and he bounced over to where Walter
still knelt holding the baby. 
Skinner rocked back on his heels, out of the way but ready
to lend a hand to keep the wiggly baby still if needed. He
watched as the baby turned to tummy again and began her
break for freedom. 
"Bad Jess," Steven said, and the baby froze. "Come get
changed. Right now." 
The baby obediently rolled over and scootched down toward
Steven, where he efficiently picked her legs up by the ankles,
slipped the diaper underneath, and then pulled it up and
together, fastening it with small tapes that were attached to
each side of the thing. He looked up at Skinner and smiled
proudly. "You just have to tell her what you want her to do." 
Skinner nodded, still staring at the baby who was now sitting
quietly on the bedroll and playing with the zipper. He shook
his head, then asked, "Can you watch her for a while, Steven?" 
"She's OK now, but I'm hungry, Walter," the boy responded.
"Can we have something to eat?" 
"Yeah, let me see what we have." He went to the pack and
pulled out an MRE. "Chicken and noodles?" 
Steven nodded and the baby clapped her hands. 
Skinner added water to activate the heating element
then set the cardboard container against a rock for it
to warm. He stepped over to Mulder and checked him
again. Damn! From being gray and cold, he'd gone to
flushed and warm. Did the man have a fever now? He
carefully pulled the makeshift bandage free, noting that
it was again soaked, and began to cut up another diaper
to redo Mulder's leg. 
As he placed the absorbent pad down on the wound and
pressed, Mulder remained unmoving, convincing Skinner
he was indeed unconscious and not just sleeping. Fuck!
There was no way Mulder would be able to walk the
16 or so miles to the road. How the hell was he going
to get everyone out? 
He wet a cloth and sponged Mulder's face, then lay the
cool strip across his brow. "Best I can do," he whispered,
then turned to check on the children's lunch. 
Steven was kneeling by the rock, watching the box and
it looked to Skinner as if he was counting. Jess was --
Skinner looked around -- Jess was gone again. 
"Steven," he called, "where's the baby?" 
The boy looked around, bewildered. "She was here a
minute ago, Walter. Is lunch ready?" 
Skinner reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose,
biting his tongue till he tasted blood. "Just a few more
minutes, Steven. I need to find Jess again." 
The boy nodded and went back to watching the box. 
Skinner set off again, calling softly and searching through
the woods. She hadn't wandered too far this time, and he
was back shortly with her in his arms. 
"I need you to help me watch Jess, Steven," he said to the
boy when he returned. "She can get hurt out here." 
The boy nodded, then said, "She needs to be able to move
around. I told the men at the place, but they always wanted
her to be still." He gave a tiny snort of disgust. "I'm just
a kid and I know babies have to be able to play, but they
didn't listen to me." He lifted big eyes to Walter. "They
were mean to her." 
"And to you?" Skinner asked gently. 
The boy shrugged. "She's just little. You shouldn't be mean
to little ones." 
'Amen,' Skinner thought. 'You shouldn't be mean to little
ones.' He cleared his throat and asked, "How 'bout lunch,
you two?" 
They ate ravenously, and Skinner was amazed at the amount
of food both children put away. He had intended to share this
meal with them, but there was none left for him when they were
done. "Didn't they feed you?" he asked as Steven finished the
last of the noodles. 
"Just some yucky oatmeal stuff. All the time. It was all we
ate." He shuddered, then said in a conspiratorial tone, "I think
they put something in it. It was nasty tasting." 
Indeed. Skinner looked longingly at Mulder. He was the
psychologist. He would be so much better at talking to the
boy about this. But he was out. And that was something else
Skinner was going to have to deal with before nightfall. 
"Steven, do you think you can sleep some more, now?"
he asked as the boy yawned. "You were up all night,
and we're going to be moving tonight as well." 
The boy nodded sleepily. "I am sorta tired, Walter, but
what about Jess?" 
"I'll watch her. She slept in the pack last night, so she
probably won't sleep as much today as you and Fox." 
Both man and boy turned to look at Mulder. 
"He's pretty sick, isn't he Walter?" 
"His leg is hurt, but he'll be OK. When we get to the
car, we'll take him to a hospital and they'll fix him
right up." 
The boy wandered over to his bedroll and Skinner
followed. 
"And you'll call my mom and dad?" the boy asked. 
"Yes, we will. And they'll come and get you and you'll
go home." 
The boy slipped under the top cover and wriggled a bit,
getting settled. Skinner reached out and gently stroked
his hair back from his face. This child was being so brave,
so strong, it was easy to forget how very young he was too. 
"And Jess?" 
"And Jess." Skinner looked up, appalled that he had forgotten
the baby again, and sure enough, she was nowhere to be seen. 
"Sleep, Steven," he murmured, "I need to go get Jess again." 
The boy laughed, but closed his eyes obediently. "You gotta
watch her better than this, Walter," he said, then yawned again. 
Skinner patted him once more, then rose and began the
now familiar search pattern until he found the baby again.
This time she was perilously close to the edge of the latrine,
and Skinner refused to even consider what would happen
had she finished her explorations in that direction. 
He carried her back to the clearing, then rummaged in his
pack. Within minutes, she was tied to a stake in the middle
of the clearing, with about a ten foot circle of room to
wander. She explored her new "freedom" happily for
a while but then began to fuss. Skinner rummaged in the
pack again, and presented her with an assortment of items
to keep her occupied. A compass, small flashlight, closed
pocket knife, his extra pair of glasses, and his cuffs. For some
reason, she liked the cuffs best, and was playing contentedly
with them. Skinner went and sat by Mulder, sponging his
forehead again and again, as he watched the baby play. 
He was dampening the cloth again, when Mulder spoke.
"Guess you showed her, huh, Sir?" 
Skinner blinked and looked down to see Mulder's eyes,
fever bright, staring at the baby across the way. Her tether
was clearly visible around her waist and she had managed
to put both hands through one of the cuffs, effectively trapping
herself, but she seemed quite pleased with the results and
was banging the flashlight on the ground as she hummed
a little tune. 
"What?" he asked as he looked back at Mulder. 
"You showed her. Got her tied up and cuffed. She knows
who's in charge now." 
Skinner laughed, then helped Mulder to sit up a bit, and
offered him water from the canteen. "Oh yeah, there's
no doubt who's in charge," he answered. "No doubt at
all." He looked down at Mulder and watched as his eyes
slid shut again. He lowered the man back to the blanket
and tried to adjust him more comfortably. He glanced up
at the baby again, and when she waved at him, he self-
consciously waved back, glad no one was awake to witness
the action. 
"No doubt who's in charge here," he repeated. "She is." 
********************************************** 
The baby had finally fallen asleep, but Skinner was too nervous
to try to sleep himself. He had visions of her escaping her bonds
and wandering off, never to be found again. He filled the
remaining hours of the day building a travois. Or at least as
much of one as he could fashion without use of the bedrolls
that Steven and Mulder were sacked out on. 
Mulder continued to feel feverish, and even with no movement,
the wound was seeping blood. Skinner went and applied pressure
frequently, but he knew there was no way the younger man
would be able to walk again. As he knelt beside him, wiping his
face yet again, Skinner was amazed that Mulder had managed
to walk as far as he had last night. He was pretty sure the bone
was broken. It had to be serious for the level of pain that
Mulder was experiencing and the concomitant manifestations --
sweating, chills and fever, drifting in and out of consciousness. 
He had condensed what they were taking out down to one
pack. The other pack, and miscellaneous items that would
remain were secured high in a tree. The bedrolls would form
the support for the travois, and he would carry the baby in
her pack, but strapped to his chest this time. 
He scrubbed his face and took a sip of water. God, he was
tired. How was he going to get them all to safety? They'd
been incredibly lucky that no one had pursued, no one had
found them. But there was no way to be sure that luck would
hold. He could feel his eyes trying to slip shut, and he rose
to walk, knowing that movement would keep him awake,
even if it added to his fatigue. 
He looked at his watch, then gazed up at the sun. Several
more hours till dark. He was ready but they had been
safe here and he didn't want to take any chances. Best to
stick with as much of the original plan as possible. He
walked to Steven and gazed down at the sleeping child.
Dark hair fell across his brow, and Skinner knelt to push
it back, feeling the slightly sweaty brow that often accompanied
hard sleep. The child murmured something and rolled to
his side, and Skinner rose again. 
He looked at the boy, then looked over at Mulder. His eyes
narrowed as he looked again. He shifted his glance to take
in the baby -- the baby who was *not* Steven's sibling, but
who looked so much like him. He looked at Mulder again,
then back at the boy, then the baby. They looked like him.
The children looked like Mulder. Shit! Skinner couldn't
believe he'd missed the resemblance before. The boy even
had Mulder's slightly oversized nose and the same cowlick
that caused that strand of hair to flop in his face. He looked
again at the girl. She was so much younger, still unformed
in many ways, her features still distorted with baby fat, but
she had the same hazel eyes, the same wayward hair. These
two could be Mulder's kids! What the fuck was going on?
Who were these children and why were they here? 
Skinner suddenly went cold as one of the alarms he'd set
was tripped and the sensor in his pocket began to vibrate.
He woke Mulder quickly, helping the man to sit up, and
ignoring the pain that flashed across his face at the movement. 
"We've got company," he murmured, as he checked the
clip in Mulder's gun, then shoved it into his hands. "Do
the best you can." 
Mulder nodded muzzily, but remained sitting up when
Skinner let go. He checked the boy -- still sleeping --
then checked the leash he'd attached to the baby. He
may be slow, but he did learn. She was asleep, and still
secure in the harness he had fashioned for her. He looked
back at Mulder, nodded once, and slipped into the trees,
vanishing amidst the shadows. 
He headed directly for the alarm that had been triggered,
keeping to the shade and shadows of the trees. As he
approached, he caught sight of a man in a guard uniform
from the complex. Rifle in hand, the man was examining
the alarm, which looked like a pine cone. The man placed
the cone back on the ground, then stood and surveyed the
area, obviously searching for something. Searching for them,
Skinner amended. This man was searching for them. They
weren't going to let them get away this easily. 
Skinner tensed, and when the man turned his back, he
pounced, tackling him from behind, and bringing him
down smoothly. A quick twist of the man's head, a snap
as the neck broke, and it was over. Skinner was hardly
breaking a sweat from exertion, but he was suddenly shaking
from fear. What if there were more? What if they found
the clearing while he was out here? What if this was a ploy
to separate them, to force him to leave the vulnerable ones
alone? He had to get back. 
He hefted the man's body and began to circle back to the
clearing. He deliberately came up on the side of the latrine,
and used the natural ditch to form a shallow grave and hide
the body. He would come back and cover it later. For now,
he needed to check on his charges. 
He crept up to the clearing and checked it carefully before he
risked showing himself. Mulder was still holding himself up,
barely able to maintain a sitting position, the gun held tightly
in one hand, but laying limp in his lap. The two children still
slept. There was no indication that anyone was there, or that
they had been. He called softly to his agent, "Mulder?" and
was rewarded with a nod. 
He strode into the camp, and took the gun from Mulder's hand.
"Good job, Mulder," he said, "very good. Rest now." 
"I'm not going to be any help, I don't think I can even sit
up again," the man muttered as Skinner helped him to lay
back down. He winced as he shifted on the blanket. "Shit!
It really hurts, Sir." 
"I know, Mulder, and I'm sorry. If there were any other way ..."
Skinner began. 
"Not. Your. Fault." Mulder gritted out through clenched
teeth. "Should've been more alert. You were great. Saved
us all. Small price to pay." Mulder stopped, gasping for
breath. 
"Rest, Mulder," Skinner soothed. "Don't try to talk." He
fumbled with the canteen. "You want some water?" 
Mulder's eyes were closed now, but he nodded once. Skinner
lifted his head, and held the canteen to his lips, waiting patiently
as he took several long swallows. Finally, he nodded, and Skinner
lowered him back to the blanket. He recapped the canteen, then
patted Mulder's shoulder gently and rose to his feet. "I'm gonna
wake the kids and we're moving. I don't want to wait any longer
if they're out here looking for us." He checked his watch again.
"It'll be dark soon enough." 
He woke Steven and fixed another MRE for the boy, then while
the child ate, Skinner completed the travois. He pulled it over
near Mulder, then shifted the wounded man around and dragged
him, bedding and all, onto the blanket that now hung from two
long poles. At the first movement, Mulder had tensed and
Skinner could see him clenching his jaw, but by the time he was
situated, and Skinner had secured him to the frame, the man was
unconscious again. 
"Are you finished, Steven?" Skinner asked, and the boy nodded. 
"Jess needs to eat, too," he reminded Skinner. 
"And be changed, I bet," Skinner remarked. 
"I need to go to the bathroom again," Steven said, and
Skinner could see the puzzlement on the boy's face when he
directed him to some bushes on the edge of the clearing, rather
than the latrine. 
Skinner managed the baby's change this time, and helped her to
finish Steven's meal, then he laced her into the now dry pack again,
and slipped it on backward. She was nestled against his chest, her
little body a solid presence beneath his heart. He did a quick weapons
check, making sure he could get to everything with the baby in
place, then slipped the one remaining pack on his back. The night
vision goggles were balanced on his head since it was still daylight,
but ready to be pulled down as the sun sank below the horizon. 
Skinner called Steven and the boy came immediately to his
side. "You must stay right here with me all the time, understand?"
he instructed the boy. "We're going to have to walk for a very
long way, and I need you to be very strong and very brave." 
"I am," Steven said proudly. "I hardly ever cried when they did
the hurting things." 
Skinner felt his heart clutch again. The hurting things. What had
been done to these children? "I know you are, Steven, I know you
are. You must also be very quiet. If you need to say something,
tap my leg to get my attention, then we'll whisper, OK?" 
Steven nodded solemnly, and Skinner bent and hoisted the two
poles of the travois. "Sorry, Mulder, this is gonna hurt like a bitch."
He took one more look down at Steven, then set off into the woods. 
They had only gone a few feet when there was an explosion from
the woods to the left, and Skinner froze. He waited as he processed
what had happened, but nothing else occurred. He set off again,
the baby murmuring little baby things against his chest, Steven
walking quickly by his side, a serious expression on his face, and
Mulder, unconscious, behind him. 
Thirty minutes passed, and there was another explosion, this time to
the right, and Skinner suddenly knew what was happening. 
The woods were mined, and they had decided to try a different
kind of search. 
End part 06/08 
What Cost, Friendship? 07/08 
The little boy was struggling and Skinner wanted nothing
more than to stop and let him rest. And to rest himself,
he admitted. Mulder was an easy 170, the pack had to
be around 40, and the baby? Maybe 25? He was getting
tired. He sighed and looked at his watch. They'd been
walking for about four hours. Their journey continued
to be interspersed with the periodic explosions from
all directions, but none had been close to them. Yet. 
The baby was asleep, Mulder drifted in and out of
consciousness, and Steven? Steven just struggled
along, not a word of complaint despite the exhaustion
the child had to be feeling. 
Skinner glanced down and saw the boy reach up and wipe
his eyes. He looked closer and saw the tears, dripping
slowly down his cheeks. He dropped his head, then
sighed. The child was trying so hard, but regardless
of his effort, he was still a child, and he was never going
to be able to walk the entire way. 
Skinner reached out and touched Steven's shoulder,
then stopped. "We're gonna take a break, OK?" 
The little boy nodded furiously, then limped over
to a log to sit down. Skinner's brow furrowed.
Why was he limping? He laid the travois down,
shed the backpack, and rolled his shoulders a few
times, trying to clear the knots that had taken up
seemingly permanent residence there. 
Skinner followed and sat beside the boy. "Are you
all right?" 
Steven hurriedly wiped tears from his eyes and
then looked up at Skinner. "I won't cry anymore,
I promise. And I'll keep up. Please don't leave me." 
Skinner was astonished. Why would the child think
he would leave him? "Steven," he said very softly,
"I'm not going to leave you. You know that, right?
We're all going out together." 
The boy gave a half shrug, half nod, and Skinner
tentatively put an arm around his shoulder. "I'm
not going to leave you, Steven. You're doing great.
You're a strong, brave young man, and your mom
and dad must be very proud of you." 
He could feel the little shoulders begin to shake,
and the child lifted his hands to his eyes for a long
moment, then turned and buried his face in
Skinner's side. He cried for a very long time, and
Skinner stroked his back and hair, and murmured
soft, soothing words to him. Finally the sobs
began to quiet, and the boy whispered, "I'm sorry,
Walter, I won't cry anymore." 
"Shhh, Steven, it's OK to cry sometimes. Do you
feel better now?" 
Steven was still for a moment, contemplating the
question, and Skinner was again struck by how
much this child was like Mulder. "I think so," he
said hesitantly, then a smile broke over his face.
"Hey! Yeah, I do feel better!" 
"Good!" Skinner smiled back. "Think you're ready
to walk some more?" 
The boy nodded then looked around curiously. "Is
there a potrine around here?" 
Skinner laughed. "That's *latrine,* and you can take
your pick of the local bushes. Just don't go out of sight." 
"Sir?" 
Mulder was calling him. He watched Steven a minute
more, then stepped back to kneel by Mulder's side.
"You're awake," he said. 
"I think I'd rather not be," Mulder said wryly. The
younger man paused and Skinner watched as he started
to drift away. 
He reached out and gently shook the man. "You wanted
to tell me something?" 
Mulder visibly pulled himself back, and said, "Oh, yeah.
Steven. He's beat. He can't walk all the way out." 
"I know." Skinner was frustrated. "I don't know what
else to do. I can't carry him too." 
Mulder nodded. "You're doing great, you know that, don't
you? I can't think of anyone else who would have gotten
us all this far." Mulder's hand came up to grip Skinner's
arm. "Hercules, remember?" and Skinner smiled. 
"Good," Mulder said, "you look better now. Look, can
you ditch the big pack and swap that weight for Steven? I
know you've got to be at or beyond your limit, but maybe
he could ride with me." 
Skinner thought for a moment. What was in the pack that
he absolutely had to take? Just the container with Scully's
vials. He could risk leaving the food and other supplies.
Just take the water and a couple more diapers -- it would
all fit in the small pack with the vials. Most of the weapons
he already carried, or they were in Mulder's pockets. He
looked over at the boy who was sitting wearily on the log
again. "Steven, please come here," he called softly, and the
boy rose and limped over. 
"Why is he limping?" Mulder asked, concerned. 
"Don't know. I think he's just tired of walking. I was going
to ask." 
The boy stopped beside the travois and looked down at Mulder.
"You're awake, Fox!" he said happily. "Are you feeling better?" 
Mulder nodded. "Some. How 'bout you, Steven? How are
you feeling?" 
"I'm OK," the boy said. "Walter let me cry some and I feel
better now. He didn't yell or anything when I cried. My dad
doesn't yell at me either when I cry." 
Mulder and Skinner exchanged a glance. More clues to
what had happened at the complex. 
Skinner had taken off the pack with Jess in it, and handed
the sleeping baby over to Mulder. She settled right in next
to him, never once waking. 
He now turned to the boy and rose. "I need to see how much
you weigh, Steven," he said, and hefted the boy into the air. 
The child's arms went instinctively around Skinner's neck,
legs around his waist, and he snuggled in against the man's
chest. "My dad would carry me when I got tired sometimes.
Even after I was a big boy, like now, sometimes he would
pick me up and carry me." He sighed wistfully. "Daddy
said even big boys get tired too." 
Skinner hugged him tight for a long moment as he looked
down at Mulder. "I can't carry you, Steven," he whispered,
"I'm sorry. But do you think you could ride with Fox?" 
The boy had gone stiff in his arms when Skinner said he
couldn't carry him, but he relaxed at the idea of riding with
Mulder. 
"I could do that. I'll be real still so I don't hurt his leg." 
"That's very thoughtful of you, Steven," Skinner said.
"I know Fox will appreciate that." 
Skinner started to put the child down, but he suddenly
tightened his grip around the big man. The boy hugged
him tightly, planted a soft kiss on his cheek, and whispered
into his ear, "I don't think you're scary anymore, Walter." 
Skinner swallowed hard, then hugged the child back and
slowly lowered him to the ground. He scampered around
to the other side of the travois, and carefully climbed in
next to Mulder. Only Skinner saw Mulder wince, but
when Steven asked, "Is this OK, Fox?" Mulder answered,
"Just fine, Steven. You're just fine." 
Mulder looked up at Skinner. "How 'bout I keep the baby
for a while since she's sleeping? I think I can hang onto
her while she's asleep." 
"Don't count on it," Skinner rumbled, but he left the child
where she was. He rolled his shoulders one more time,
made his own visit to the "potrine," and they were ready
to move again. 
************************************************ 
It was well after sun-up, closer to late morning,
when they reached the road. The children had
miraculously slept the rest of the night, and Mulder
had continued to drift between varying states of
waking, sleeping, and unconsciousness. The bouts
of unconsciousness were in direct proportion to the
number and severity of the bumps the travois
passed over. 
When Skinner could see the road, he looked for a
place to leave his charges while he went for the car
and made sure everything was safe. The woods were
sparser here, no close set trees to offer the type of
hiding place he'd come to look for, but he did find
a thicket of bushes. He quickly cut them down,
then slid the travois over and set the bushes around it.
It was makeshift, and certainly wouldn't withstand
hard scrutiny, but with continued luck, it wouldn't
have to. 
Skinner had learned his lesson with the baby. He
reattached her harness and tether even though she
was sleeping, and left her with a very short leash.
At least she would be there when he got back. 
Steven had awakened when they stopped moving,
but he had nodded obligingly when Skinner had
instructed him to remain laying down and stay
hidden until he returned. Mulder was unconscious
again. 
His charges as securely hidden as he could manage,
Skinner climbed wearily to his feet to begin the
last leg of their journey. He was feeling every one
of his years today. He'd gotten drunk and not slept
three nights ago. He'd grabbed a few hours
during the day two days ago, and walked all night
that night. Once again, a few daytime hours of sleep,
then had come the raid on the complex, and all the
ensuing events. He hadn't slept again. And the
possibility of sleep anytime soon was looking pretty
remote. 
He shook his head, and hiked on toward the place
they had left the car. Skinner felt a rush of pleasure
when he saw it and realized it was still there. He
was so tired, and the car meant a chance to sit, even
if he did have to drive. Mulder could lay in the
back and the children could sit up front with him. 
Skinner circled the car, looking for signs of tampering,
and relaxed when he saw none. He went to the hood
to open it and restore the wires he'd disconnected to
simulate the breakdown. As he pulled the latch on the
hood, he saw it -- a wire that didn't belong. He turned
and began running, heading back for the woods, only
one thought in his mind. 'Get out of sight; this is
gonna be bad.' 
There was a massive explosion and he was hit from
behind. The fireball lifted him into the air and
he flew the rest of the way across the road and
into the woods. He landed on an incline and rolled
to the bottom. In his mind, he kept hearing a chant,
'I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive,' and then the darkness
of unconsciousness swallowed him and he heard nothing
more. 
****************************************** 
When Skinner came to, the sun had reached its zenith.
He tried to move his head to check his watch and was
rewarded with lancing pain through his whole skull.
Concussion. He lay still a bit longer, and took a silent
inventory. Everything hurt. There was no way to sort
out one injury from another. He had cuts, and scrapes,
and swollen places on top of cuts, and scrapes, and
swollen places. 
He finally forced his head up and looked at his wrist.
The crystal on his watch had shattered at 11:15. The
sun was directly overhead. He'd been out about forty-
five minutes. His arms were bright red; he looked as
if he had a severe sunburn. He gingerly touched his
face and felt the tightness there, indicating the same
type of burns. He could feel blisters where his glasses
rested; the metal frames had superheated and left the
natural result. 
He forced himself to sit up, then climbed painfully to
his feet, and clutched at a tree for support as he was
overcome with dizziness and swayed. 
He took several deep, cleansing breaths, then twisted
around to look over his shoulder at his back. The
material of his shirt was burned and he could see it
sticking to open blisters in several places along both
shoulders. He couldn't really see his back, but he could
imagine the mess of red, raw skin, and oozing blisters
that it was now. He reached up and touched his scalp,
wincing as he brought his hand quickly back down.
He looked at his fingers -- blood and fluid from more
blisters. He was covered in blood and the sticky fluid
from the broken burn blisters. 
Open burns seemed to attract infection. He had to
get himself and his charges out of the woods and
into a hospital. His reserves had been seriously
depleted before the blast, but now he was perilously
close to collapse, and there was still so much to do.
Starting with getting a vehicle. 
He looked around and realized that the woods
were strangely quiet. He cleared his throat, but
heard nothing. He spoke, and still heard nothing.
And then it hit him. The blast had not only injured
him. Not only burned him. It had deafened him
as well. 
Skinner dropped to his knees, a darkness consuming
him and threatening to drag him under. How could
he finish his mission without his hearing? He relied
so heavily on it. It was integral to his ability to
keep everyone safe. He had to be able to hear to
get them out. He allowed himself the indulgence
of a moment more of self-pity, then struggled to his
feet again. He'd just have to compensate. He refused
to even think what it would mean if this hearing loss
wasn't temporary. 
His ankle was weak, and protested with each step.
Sprained? Quite possibly. But he couldn't stop and
deal with it now. He hobbled back to the tree line
and stared across at the hulk of the car. There was no
sign that anyone had come to investigate and he
assumed that the car explosion just melded into
the mine explosions that had been occurring all night. 
He knelt in the scanty bushes by the road, just out
of sight, as he contemplated his next moves. He
needed a car. This was a fairly well-traveled road.
That was why he chose it. So there should be a
vehicle along any time now. He checked his
weapon then looked up to see a car driving past. 
Shit! Without his hearing, he couldn't be prepared
for the cars in advance. He raised a hand to his
face again, and wiped away blood that trickled
down over his brow. He was hurting, and tired,
and thirsty, and now he couldn't hear. He needed
a break. 
He looked up as a dark sedan stopped by the
burned-out car, and two men exited, both wearing
the now familiar guard uniform. This was his
opportunity. He dug in the pockets of his waist
pouch and quickly armed himself. Two well-balanced
throwing knives appeared in his hands, two
stars went into his mouth, clutched between
his teeth. 
Keeping low, he made his way across the road,
and knelt near the rear bumper of the sedan. He
edged around the back of the vehicle, and eyed
the two men talking by the front of the wrecked
car. With a mighty roar, albeit soundless to him,
he rose and launched the two knives at the men.
The first landed dead center and the man went
down. The other man whirled at the last second
and twisted away, catching the knife in the arm.
He turned to face Skinner, then pulled the knife
from his arm, and bowed. 
Oh, shit! Not this. I really do not need this
Chuck Norris shit. Skinner bowed back, hand
searching frantically in his waist pouch, and
when he pulled himself erect again, he pointed
the small gun at the man, and fired. 
This time, the man went down. 
Skinner sighed. There was no more thrill to killing --
it had become nothing more than a means to an
end, and a disheartening means at that. He stumbled
forward to the driver's door, then looked in and saw the
keys still in the ignition. Slipping into the car, he
moved the seat back to accommodate his long legs,
turned the key and pulled the car in a sharp U to
head back to where he'd left Mulder and the children. 
He parked as close as he could, leaving the car on the
wrong side of the road with flashers going, and made
his way back into the woods. Moving quickly, he
searched for his hiding place of bushes, then halted
abruptly as he saw Steven walking to the side of the
bushes, the baby pulling him by her leash. 
The child looked up at him, a smile on his face and
began to speak, but Skinner couldn't hear any of it.
As he watched, the boy's face fell, and he slowly
stopped talking, and then stopped moving. Tears
were hovering in the child's eyes again, and Skinner
had no idea what had happened. 
He knelt and beckoned the boy to come closer.
Steven picked up the baby, and then moved
slowly toward Skinner. When he was directly
in front of the kneeling man, Skinner said, "Steven,
I'm not mad at you. There was an explosion and
I was hurt a little. I can't hear you right now, but
I'm not mad. Do you understand?" 
The boy was talking again, but his head was
nodding as well, and the smile was back. Skinner
nodded back, then pushed himself to his feet.
There was a tug at his waist and he looked down
to see the boy pointing at his back, a worried
look on his little face. 
"I know. It's all right. Don't worry about me.
Are you ready to go? Is Mulder awake?" 
The boy nodded then shook his head and Skinner
took that to mean he was ready to go and Mulder
was *not* awake. He looked at the boy again.
"Has Mul -- er, Fox, been sleeping the whole time
I was gone?" 
The boy nodded again, and Skinner felt the
worry clutch at his heart, but he forced a
smile for the child. "You were very clever
to keep Jessie occupied while I was gone for
so long. I'm very proud of you, Steven." 
The boy raced the few feet between them, and
threw his arms around Skinner's legs, burying
his face in his thigh and began to cry. When
Skinner winced and pulled away, the boy stepped
back, and then looked at the blood on his arms,
Skinner's blood, and began to cry even harder.
That set the baby off, and Skinner tumbled to his
knees and tugged both children to his chest. 
"Shh," he soothed, "shhh now. It's all right. We're
almost home. Hush, now, hush. We're all going
to be all right." It took some time but the children
settled and Skinner was finally able to go and
free Mulder from beneath the bushes. 
He dragged the travois up to the car, loaded his
unconscious agent in back, piled the children into
the front, then made one more trip for the pack.
The pack with the vials that had started this whole
chain of events. The last thing he did was slice the
side of the pack open and pull out his ID. He had
a feeling he was going to need it. 
******************************************* 
The drive to the hospital took over an hour. The children
sat beside him, as still as two children could be, sharing
a seat belt. It was the best he could do for safety. 
By the time they reached the city, and he had to begin to
negotiate turns, trying desperately to follow the blue
signs with the large H, indicating hospital, he was weaving
all over the road. He was praying for a cop to stop him,
anything, just so that someone else could take over for
a while and he could rest. 
Finally, he could see the hospital in the distance. Signs
to the ER swam in and out of his vision, competing with
the darkness that was threatening to overtake him again.
There was a circular drive in front of the ER doors and
Skinner wanted to be sure he was close. He knew he wouldn't
be able to walk again. He was going to have to rely on
the hospital personnel. 
He aimed for the door, disregarding the flower-beds that
lay between him and his goal, then handed his ID to Steven.
"Give this to the people in the hospital, Steven. It's got
my name on it. And tell them who Fox is. Fox Mulder." 
Steven nodded and Skinner said, "Good boy, now hold onto
the baby," and the car bumped through the flower-beds,
across the drive, through the glass doors of the ER, and came
to a stop against the sign-in counter, where insurance
information was collected. Skinner's head dropped to the
wheel, and the horn began to blow. 
But he was aware of none of it. The big man had finally
given in, and he was unconscious. 
End part 07/08 
What Cost, Friendship? 08/08 
The first thing he noticed was a beeping sound, and he
lay still, trying to figure out what was so odd about the
sound. It finally hit him, and his eyes popped open. He
could hear it! 
He turned his head to look around, and pain lanced
through his skull. His eyes slid shut of their own
accord, and a soft alto said, "Bet that hurt, didn't it, Sir?" 
Skinner forced his eyes open again, and focused on
a very familiar face. "Agent Scully," he began formally,
but she cut him off. 
"Do not take that tone with me," she began. "I will not
be placated with your AD act. What the *hell* did you
two think you were doing?" 
"Mulder?" he asked, trying desperately to shift the
attention anywhere but on himself. 
"Don't get me involved," said a voice from the other
bed. "I've sat through two days of her lectures. It's
your turn." 
"Mulder is fine," Scully answered him. "Well, as fine
as someone who walked three miles on a broken femur
can be." 
"I can hear," Skinner said. 
"Yes, and you have no idea how lucky you are. Whatever
blast you were caught in could have ruptured your tympanic
membranes and you could have been permanently deaf." 
"Enough!" Skinner raised his hand, IV and all. "I appreciate
your concern," he smiled wryly, "though you do find a rather
odd way of expressing it, but I will not be bullied in my sick
bed." He rolled on his side, turned his back to her, and closed
his eyes. Within minutes, he was asleep again. 
******************************************* 
The next time he woke, there was a nice, objective
doctor by his bed, and she answered all his questions
with no commentary. Yes, he had a concussion.
Yes, he had a pretty severe scalp laceration, hence the
bleeding. He'd needed stitches in several places to
close gashes from the explosions. His ankle was,
indeed, sprained. And while there was still a slight
ringing in his ears, his hearing should be completely
normal within a few weeks at most. The burns were
a little more problematic, and the IV was to make
sure he didn't become dehydrated. 
"When can I go home?" he asked, and the doctor
laughed. 
"You sound like your friend over there," and she
pointed at Mulder's empty bed. 
"Is he gone already?" Skinner asked. 
"No. His wife took him down to pediatrics to see the
children." 
Skinner's heart leapt into his throat. "The children?
Were the children hurt?" 
"Just minor cuts and abrasions from the car wreck.
You totaled our ER, by the way. Social services is
searching for the kids' parents and since they *were*
injured, and the little boy was almost hysterical at
the thought of leaving you, we just kept them here.
They've come up to see you several times, but you
must have been sleeping." 
"How long?" 
"Two days." There was a noise at the door and she
turned to look. "Ah, we were just talking about you."
She turned back to Skinner. "You've got visitors.
Don't exert yourself." She patted his hand and left. 
Scully pushed the wheelchair in, and rolled Mulder
up next to the bed. Jess was seated on his lap, and
she immediately crawled over the rail and plopped
down on Skinner's chest. 
"Wa-tah!" she cried happily. "Wa-tah, Wa-tah,
Wa-tah!" She leaned over and planted a sloppy baby
kiss right on his nose. 
"Jess," he sighed. He checked her over, noting only
a few small band-aids and a couple of bruises. He lifted
her little hand and kissed one of the bruises. "I'm
so sorry, Jess," he whispered. 
"Jess got owie," she said, and then snuggled down
against his chest. 
"Where the hell are my glasses?" Skinner demanded,
and was rewarded when Scully handed them to him,
and Mulder chuckled softly, saying, "Language, Sir." 
"Oh, yes, well," Skinner cleared his throat. "Where's
Steven?" 
"I'm here," said a small voice from behind Scully.
He stepped forward slowly, and stood staring at the
man in the bed. "Are you all right, Walter?" 
"I'm fine, Steven. How are you?" Skinner struggled
to sit up and was grateful when Scully pushed a button
and the bed began to move. 
The little boy touched a bandage on his brow. "I
banged my head," he said seriously. 
"I see," Skinner responded in the same serious tone.
"Does it hurt?" 
"Some. But I'm tough, like you. I can take it." 
Skinner swallowed hard, then wiped his eyes to clear
the sudden blur that had arisen. "Would you like to
come sit on the bed with me, Steven?" he asked. 
The little boy nodded and then clambered over the
rail before Scully could help him. He sat on both knees
next to Walter and looked at him gravely. "You
don't look so good, Walter," he offered. "Are you sure
you're all right?" 
Skinner chuckled and nodded. "I'm just fine now,
Steven, just fine." 
"We'll see about that," Scully grumbled under her breath,
and Steven leaned down to whisper in Skinner's ear. 
"Dana's really mad at you and Fox. Did you leave without
asking permission?" 
Skinner laughed out loud at that, and Mulder joined him.
"See Scully, even Steven has your number," Mulder teased,
and Scully had the grace to blush. 
Jessie had fallen asleep on Skinner's chest, and he suddenly
felt that was a wonderful idea. He patted Steven's back,
and the boy laid down with him as well. Skinner looked over
at Mulder and Scully and shrugged, then closed his eyes
as well. Just before he fell asleep, he offered, "You know,
the doctors think Scully is your wife, Mulder. Why do
you suppose that is?" 
******************************************** 
Three days later and they were to be discharged the next
day. The children had come to visit several times, every
day, and all the staff commented on how they had bonded
with the two FBI men. Mulder would be in the wheelchair
for several more weeks before he would be allowed to
start using the crutches. Skinner had to suppress a
twinge of guilt every time he looked at the man. There
really had been no other way. His own wounds were
healing nicely, but he would carry reminders of
the burns on his back from now on. 
There was still no word on the children's parents though.
Jess was too young to give a full name, but her picture
and description had been faxed all over the country.
Steven Miller however, should not have been so difficult
to trace. 
They were all down in the pediatrics playroom. Mulder
and Steven were playing checkers and Jess was sitting
on Skinner's lap, when the social worker came in. She
walked to Skinner and said in a quiet voice. "We
believe we've found Steven's parents. They're outside,
but I wanted to give you and Agent Mulder a chance to
prepare him, since he's so fond of you both." 
Skinner nodded. He knew this day would come. Hell,
he wanted this day to come. But it still didn't change the
sudden pain in his heart at the thought of not seeing these
two -- his hand stroked the baby's hair -- each day. "Hey,
Steven," he called, "can you take a break and come talk
to me?" 
Steven nodded and Mulder looked up curiously. When
the boy reached his side, Skinner said, "There are some
people here, and we think they're your parents. Are
you ready to see them?" 
The boy's eyes had lit up at the mention of his parents
and he was craning his head at the door. So much for
wanting to prepare him. He was ready. 
The door opened and a small, blonde woman entered,
followed by a short, also fair-haired man. The woman
immediately burst into tears and fell to her knees, calling,
"Stevie, Stevie." The man dropped beside her and
Steven ran to their outstretched arms, crying as well. 
When Steven began to cry, Jess did too, and Skinner
missed much of the rest of the reunion as he tried to
calm the distraught baby. When Steven had finally
settled, snuggled in his mother's lap, his father's
arms still wrapped around him, only then did Jess
settle as well. 
She looked up at Skinner and demanded, "Down,"
then toddled over to the sofa when he released her. 
"Teeben," she said, standing before the couch.
"Teeben. Get Jess up." 
Steven extracted himself from his parents' arms
and lifted the baby up. Skinner was staring at the
group. The two children, both tall for their age
and dark, and the two adults, the woman only
about five feet tall, the man not much taller. Both
blue-eyed and blonde. There was no biological
connection here, but they seemed to love Steven. 
And now they had made room to include Jess
in their little family group. The baby seemed to
fit right in. Skinner nodded at Scully, and she
pushed Mulder to the door of the playroom.
Skinner followed, and couldn't resist the urge
to turn and take one last lingering look at the
children who'd slipped into his heart. 
************************************** 
They were packed and ready to leave. Though
Mulder and Skinner had flown out, Scully had
rented a car and they were driving back. She
was adamant that he not drive, but he felt sure
he'd be able to change her mind once they were
on the road. A two day drive would be enough
to make anyone want to share the driving. 
Mulder was in his wheelchair, the pack with
the vials had been returned from the local police,
and they were set to go. Scully had been kind
enough to go to the local K-Mart and pick up
a few clothes for both men, so they were at least
able to leave in something other than hospital
gowns. 
Mulder seemed to have a knack with Scully.
He didn't contradict her when she lectured, agreed
with her continual assessment that all men were
idiots, and didn't complain when she fussed over
him. After two days of non-stop arguing with
her, Skinner had finally adopted Mulder's approach,
and his life had become much more pleasant. 
As they waited in the lobby for Scully to bring
the car around, Skinner was surprised to see
Steven and his mother walk up. His mother was
holding Jess, and the baby was smiling contentedly. 
"Hi, Wa-tah," she said, and Steven translated for
his mom. "That's how she says Walter." He scampered
over to Skinner and threw his arms around him.
"Hi Walter," he echoed the baby. "Guess what?" 
Skinner laughed. "What?" 
"Jess is coming home to live at my house!" 
Skinner lifted his eyes to Steven's mother. "What?
How?" he asked. 
She laughed and came to sit with them, acknowledging
Mulder as she joined Skinner on the bench. The baby
reached out for Mulder this time, and he took her happily.
She reached up and grabbed his nose, saying, "Pox, Pox,
Pox," and Mulder gently removed her hand as his eyes
began to water. 
"There's no word on her parents and she was going to
have to be placed with foster parents. Since we're already
approved, and Steven is so fond of her, Tom and I asked
if she could come home with us." She shrugged. "I couldn't
bear to tell Steven no, and he was determined not to leave
without her." 
"I suspected Steven was not your biological child,
but you haven't completed the adoption?" Skinner asked. 
"Steven was found abandoned at the hospital where I
work when he was about Jessie's age. He knew his
name, but that was about it. There's been a waiting
period before he is totally cleared for adoption." 
"So your name is not Miller?" Skinner asked. 
"Oh, no," she laughed. "Poor child. He's gonna have to
learn how to spell LaFreniere. But he's so smart -- he
won't have any trouble I'm sure. He was reading by three
and can remember anything he sees." 
"And you're not sure of his age then either?" 
"No, we just celebrate the day we got him as his birthday.
Just like we'll celebrate today as Jessie's until her real
parents turn up." 
Just then, Scully and Tom Miller -- no, Tom LeFreniere --
walked in. "Did you hear," she started to say, then took
in the picture before her. "Oh, of course you did." 
Skinner shook hands with the parents and wished them
well. They were all invited to come and visit again, and
Skinner could see Mulder was already making plans to
do so when his leg healed. Maybe he would ride along
as well. 
Kisses and hugs were exchanged between all the FBI
agents and the children, and Scully received extra
instructions from Steven. "Don't fuss at Walter and
Fox too much, Dana. I'm sorry they were bad and didn't
tell you where they were going --" the child snuck a look
at his own mother -- "but I'm glad they came and got me
and Jess." 
Scully laughed and hugged the little boy. "OK, Steven,
no more fussing. But they better remember the rules
next time." 
At last it was time to leave. The LaFreniere's took their
children and went on to their car. Scully gathered up the
men's few belongings and piled them on Mulder's lap. 
"You ready, Sir?" she asked, interrupting Skinner's
reverie. 
"Oh, yes," he said, looking up from the folder he had
been reviewing. He'd ordered blood tests on the children
and then had the lab compare them with Mulder's
file. Inside this folder was the result. He smiled as
he closed the folder and stood. "Yes, indeed, Agent
Scully. I am ready." 
As he followed his two agents to the car, all he could
think was, 'Mulder is the Dutch form of Miller.' 
The End