Dreams IV: The Brotherhood(4/4)

The Brotherhood
Chapter 12

By Vickie Moseley, vmoseley@fgi.net
and Esther Walker, cenergy@earthlink.net

Montana woods,
12 miles from the Canadian border
Just before Daybreak

John Jacobs' eyes flew wide open, but he couldn't focus on anything
but the last vision of his dream. Dixie, dressed in full Blackfoot
leathers, her dress resplendent with feathers and beads, her face dark
and angry, coming after him with what he could only assume was some
sort of war club. His heart was still racing as he rubbed his eyes,
trying to dispell the image from his mind. He jumped a foot when
Henry's arm touched his own.

"John? What's the matter, John?" the younger man asked anxiously. He
was obviously frightened at the sight of his leader so shaken by a
mere dream. Maybe whatever had killed Jeremiah Miller and afflicted
Bo was now working on Jacobs, too. Henry was certain they would all
be lost if that ever came to pass.

It took a few minutes, but Jacobs gathered his wits and looked around.
"Where the hell is everyone," he barked, ignoring the confused look on
Henry's young face.

"You fell asleep, John. Everybody tried to get some shut eye. We've
been walking all night, John," Henry tried to reason. "Folks are
gettin' tired. Besides, it's almost sunup."

Jacobs looked up and to the east. The faint tinge of purple on the
eastern horizon spoke to how close sunup really was. Then he looked
straight up and noticed that the sky no longer sparkled. The stars,
even visible at this hour of the morning, were hidden behind clouds.
As he watched, the sky in the east took on a reddish hue.

"We're headin' for some bad weather. That should keep the dogs at bay
for a while. Can't get a good scent in the wind, the storm will keep
the 'choppers' grounded. Looks like we have a bit of good luck,
Henry," Jacobs said, a humorless smile on his lips. In his opinion,
it was about time for a little good luck. "Where's Bob?"

Henry looked around for a minute. He hadn't seen Bob for quite a
while. He smiled leacherously. "Off playin' hide the sausage with
Tenille, mor'n likely," he replied. "Those two are like rabbits when
left by their lonesome," he added with a snort.

Jacobs leveled a cold glare at Henry, shutting the young man up
immediately. "Bob needs to learn where to place his priorities,"
Jacobs said menancingly. "You can't run very far with your pants
around your ankles." Henry swallowed hard and nodded meekly.

Mulder looked at Dana's pale face at the sound of Jacobs' scream.
Nothing happened for several minutes and everyone relaxed. "OK,
Scully . . . give it up . . . what happened . . . to Dixie?" he asked
with ragged breaths. Even with fevered eyes, his gaze cut straight to
her soul.

"She's dead," Dana said with more calm than she felt. "She stopped
Jacobs before he had a chance to finish you off. He turned on her and
killed her." Dana took a deep breath and looked away. "We had to
leave her body by the entrance to the mine."

Mulder closed his eyes and let out a hissing breath. "Bastard."
Slowly he opened his eyes and looked at his wife. "When we . . . get
out of this, . . . Scully, we go back . . . for her. We have to . .
. She saved . . . my life."

It was everything Dana could do to keep from screaming at him. Here
he was, barely able to breathe, and he was talking about coming back
to this Godforsaken country and disposing of a body! At that moment,
she wanted to tell him that she would be the one coming back for a
corpse--his, and taking it back for burial. But she wasn't going to
say that. She wasn't even going to allow herself to think that for
very long. <Get a grip, Starbuck. You can't help him if you're
hysterical.>

She had to focus on something else, on helping him. The area they
were resting was mostly forest, a small meadow just a few feet from
them. In the lightening sky of early dawn, she was beginning to make
out the trees above her, the grasses and plants around her. Suddenly,
a spire of a flower caught her eye. It was on a pale green
multi-leafed plant, topped with bright yellow flowers "Lobelia.
Indian tobbaco." The words sprung from her lips without her
knowledge. She recognized the plant as being one of the ones in the
Blackfoot Indian's arms. In Dixie's arms during her last dream.

Much to Tenille's dismay, Dana jumped up and started grabbing handfuls
of plants. "Lobelia, we need the roots, and the herb of the flowers,"
Scully muttered, more to herself. Tenille put a shaky hand on the
agent's arm, causing Dana to look up into the young girl's eyes.
"It's OK. Dixie told me about this. It will help with the pneumonia,
but we need something else. Another plant. Coltsfoot. Have you ever
heard of it?" She waited while Tenille thought for a moment and then
nodded. "We need to gather some of it, too. Then we have to use the
roots and the herbs diluted with water. I think there's a little
stream over there. Quick, find something to get water in. We don't
have much time." Dana was amazed that Tenille jumped to her feet and
ran off toward the stream, returning with an old goatskin flask full
of water. She handed it to Dana with a smile.

"You scared me there for a minute," Tenille admitted sheepishly. "I
thought I lost you, too," she added with eyes downcast. "I'll gather
some more of that stuff for you. You go make the tea, or whatever."
Quickly, she started picking up various plants, roots and all and
placing them in the crook of her arm.

"What else do we need?" she asked after dropping her load next to
Dana.

The agent looked at the plants before her. "Ah, didn't I see a cherry
tree somewhere near here? Wild cherry bark. It's for coughs." She
almost couldn't believe she was doing this. But she had come to trust
Dixie and something inside her knew that Dixie wouldn't steer her
wrong. She couldn't let herself trust the Blackfoot Indian, who she
now realized had been trying to help her as well. But trusting Dixie
was another matter. And Mulder's time was quickly running out.

She put her hand to his forehead and her heart sank when he didn't
even try to bat it away. If Mulder was letting her check him, he
really was feeling bad. His head was hot, his eyes were closed, the
lids dark with almost black circles under them. He wasn't coughing at
all, just wet, ragged breaths that were way too shallow to be
effectively giving him oxygen. If she were in civilzation, she would
have him on a respirator by now. With IV's and antibiotics and 'real'
medicine. She wouldn't be sitting in some forest, trying to 'brew
tea'.

She didn't have time to 'brew tea', even if she could have started a
fire. She took two rocks and ground the leaves and roots between
them, coming up with a sick smelling yellowish-green paste. It was
just foul enough to be considered medicine, she thought wryly. She
had no idea how much to add to the water. Suddenly, in the very back
of her head, she heard Dixie's voice.

**Just a smidge, child. This is potent stuff. Mix it up with the
water, about a cup full, and then give him just a couple of sips. And
don't lick your fingers or get it near your mouth. You don't need
this stuff in ya. He does.**

Dana smiled at the voice and nodded. This was all so crazy, but
suddenly a thought occured to her.

*Dixie, what do I watch for? What will this do?*

**Indian tabbaccy'll clean him out. He'll cough up a storm.
What comes up, well, you know what comes up with pneumonia. You need
to be on the look out for some mayapples. That'll help with the
fever. And snakeroot. After the Indian tabbaccy clears him out,
you'll want to get some snakeroot down him. The Senecas used it. It
looks like this.** A vision of a plant formed in Dana's mind
spontaneously. It had a long stem, 8 to 12 inches in height, with
many leaves and tinged with red. There was a small group of tiny
white flowers with five petals, at the tops of the spires. **That'll
help with the lingerin' cough. We done all we can for the brok'd
bones, but a little more arnica will help with the pain. He'll still
need some 'doctorin', but we can keep him with you 'til help
arrives.**

Dana blinked and realized she had just had a conversation with a
ghost. <I will *not* mention this to Mulder,> she vowed. He would
never let her hear the end of it. Some secrets were better kept to
herself, no matter how close she was to her husband.

Bob had managed to assemble seven or eight of the Brotherhood that he
thought he could trust. They had been just as rattled by Jacobs
recent actions as he was. He decided not to tell them that Dana was
an FBI agent, he didn't know if that would really help her cause. So
he told them what she had said, but said it came from Mulder. Some of
them had scoffed, but none of them denied that it was more than likely
that only Jacobs would be held responsible for his actions. Not one
of them still believed in the Justice System of the United States, but
Jacobs had crossed the line when he killed Dixie Miller. Still,
acknowledging that Jacobs was now a liablity was a long way from
actually doing anything about it, and every one of the men before Bob
was scared of Jacobs. They knew for a fact that the others still
believed in the cause, regardless of what had been happening. Some of
the others were as bloodthirsty as Jacobs, they just had managed to
hold themselves in check. Given the right circumstance, there would
be open warfare within the Brotherhood itself. And no one wanted
that.

"OK, then hear me out," Bob said in a rough whisper. "What if we take
the FBI agent and the lady doc and head out on our own." There were
some mutterings from the men. "Look, we can't just sit back and let
him kill that fella. He's gonna do it. That man is a Fed. A Federal
Agent. The last one that died, that was mostly accident. There was
crossfire. This man will die of a beating. They'll find that body
and they really will come after us, all of us." He stared hard at the
men around him. It heartened him to know that none of them stated the
obvious--they could kill the agent and bury him where no one would
ever find him. The men before him weren't killers. They distrusted
authority, but would only kill in self-defense and killing Mulder at
this point would only be like torturing an animal and killing it for
spite. This was a human being they were talking about and none of
them had the stomach for that.

A few dozen yards away, hidden by the clump of tall trees, Dana lifted
Mulder's head from where he was reclining against the gnarled roots of
an ancient oak. "Here, drink this," she said in a loving voice. He
didn't even bother to open his eyes, she suspected he didn't have the
energy.

The mixture smelled as bad with water as it had without. Mulder
wrinkled his nose and shook his head weakly. "You're . . . trying to
. . . poison me . . . for the insurance," he joked. But finally he
opened his lips and let some of the mixture slide down his parched
throat. "That . . . sucks, . . . Scully," he hissed and screwed up
his face to prove the point.

"Sorry. Dixie mixed sugar in with her tea, I suspect. But you need
this stuff, Fox. So don't argue with me, OK?" He opened his one good
eye at the use of his first name. This must be serious. He nodded
and dutifully drank another mouthful, gratefully drinking down the
water she offered as a chaser.

She sat back and rubbed his hand, checking his pulse as she did so.
It was rapid and that worried her. She wished she had some idea of
all of his problems. "Mulder," she whispered. He turned his head
toward her in answer. "Can I examine you?"

"Thought . . . you'd never . . . ask," he whispered and tried for a
leer that failed miserably. She hadn't had a chance to get a good
look at him while it was still night. Now, in the light of the gloomy
day, she could see that his injuries went a lot farther than she had
already imagined.

His skin was still covered with blood in spots, places where Jacobs
boots had make cuts and gashes. What wasn't bloody was pale, almost
pasty. When she pressed on it, her fingerprint left an even paler
impression that didn't fade for several seconds and his skin had no
resilience. He was dehydrated, severely, from the looks of it. <More
water, lots more water,> she thought to herself and made him take
several more sips before continuing the examination.

Carefully, she ran her hand down his sides and cringed as he jumped
and moaned in pain. It was no longer just the left side of his
ribcage that was broken, the right side had some fractures, too. She
pulled back his loose shirt and looked at his stomach and back. There
weren't several bruises, as she had initally thought she'd find. There
was one big bruise. It extented from just above his naval half way
around his back on the right side of his body. Gently, she pressed on
it and again was horrified by the pain her touch inflicted. "I know
you haven't gone to the bathroom for a while, but when you do, I want
you to look for blood in your urine. And I want you to tell me if you
find any. Hear me, Mulder? Don't hide that from me. It's
important," she said in her fiercest voice.

"You know . . . my mom thinks . . . you're a lady. . . Just shot . .
that image . . . to hell," he gasped. She flashed him an icy glare.
"I'll tell you . . . I promise."

She nodded in satisfaction and continued her search for additional
injuries. His left knee was swollen, but fortunately there were no
more broken bones that she could detect. She had suspected as much
when he was able to walk as far as he had. Finally, she finished and
covered him again with the blanket Tenille had left for her. She
looked around for Tenille. The girl had finished collecting the
leaves, roots and bark and had then gone off in search of Bob.

Scully still wasn't sure of what Bob was trying to accomplish,
speaking with the other members of the Brotherhood. She figured it
was hopeless, since none of them seemed to have the courage to
confront Jacobs. She really wished she had her gun or could get Bob
to let her have his. The thought of killing Jacobs didn't bother her
at all at this point. Suddenly, she heard Tenille scream.

Tenille had been looking for the arnica that Dana had mentioned and
Dixie had once shown her. It tended to grow in the forest and she had
noticed a patch of it near a stand of long needled pines. She was
stooping over to pick the stems and flowers when Jacobs had come up
behind her. "Where's that old man of yours, girl?" Jacobs demanded.
He had still been drinking, but the look in his eyes wasn't from
alcohol. It was a madness that comes from the death of a soul.
Tenille straighten up and just looked at him, saying nothing.

"You deaf and dumb, girl? Or just dumb?" Jacobs cackled. "Where is
he? Where's Bob?" Jacobs' voice was growing louder and sounded more
like a roar with each word.

Tenille was terrified. She had just seen Bob, talking to a couple of
the other men. Of course, they weren't talking loud enough for anyone
else to overhear, but from the looks on their faces, Tenille was
fairly certain that they were trying to figure out a way to save the
FBI agent's life and possibly, get away from Jacobs in the process.
All the men with Bob were known to be less than fervent in their
loyality to Jacobs. If Jacobs found the group, huddled together
without his knowledge or approval, he would know what was up and would
kill them all on the spot. So Tenille continued to do the only thing
she could think of, keep her mouth shut.

By this time, Jacobs noticed the plants in Tenille's hands. "What you
got there, girl?" he growled. "You eatin' grass and weeds, now?" He
reached over and grabbed Tenille by the hair at the back of her head,
pulling her head back with a cruel yank. "You wouldn't be gatherin'
that for that Fed, now, would you?" His voice was deep and menancing.
"Taken a fancy to him, have you?" Jacobs accused. "Maybe you don't
care *who* you lie down with, huh, bitch?"

In an earlier part of her life, Tenille would have simply let the
tears fall down her cheeks and continued the silence. But now, after
seeing the one woman in the world who had ever shown her kindness
murdered before her own eyes, something in Tenille snapped. The anger
in her eyes burned right into Jacobs brain. Then, suddenly, Tenille
spit right in his face.

That was all it took to push Jacobs over the edge. With the same fury
that he had inflicted on Mulder and Dixie, Jacobs pulled back his
massive fist and punched Tenille in the face. Her head snapped back
with the force and she screamed. His next punch landed on her
shoulder, throwing her back against a rock.

By now, Tenille was over the shock of the first punch and it was
survival taking over for any common sense. She ducked her head and
ran head long into the big man, as hard as her weight and anger could
carry her. Tenille had a good 20 to 25 pounds on Dixie, and she was
much younger. Jacobs never expected the 'rag doll' in front of him to
fight back. A cruel sneer formed on his lips. Maybe this was going
to turn out to be fun after all.

Jacobs swung his foot around and dropped Tenille to the hard rock
floor of the forest. It knocked the breath out of her and he took the
opportunity to straddle her, pinning her arms with his knees. After a
few seconds, Tenille was fighting back again, although she was fairly
ineffective in her current position. Her hands tried to claw at
Jacobs' thighs, tantalizingly close to her nails, but just far enough
out of reach to infuriate her. When he leaned over and brushed the
hair out of her face, she nipped at him with her teeth. The fury was
in her eyes and she was mad enough to kill. Unfortunately, Jacobs had
other activities on his mind.

Jacobs leered at her and then ripped her shirt open, buttons flying in
all directions. Nothing else mattered to him at that moment. Having
his way with the girl was the only thing on his mind. That was why he
didn't hear Bob come up behind him.

It didn't take Bob long to figure out exactly what was going on. And
it took less time than that for him to make his decision. He raised
his rifle and took aim at Jacobs' head. Just as he pulled the
trigger, Henry slammed into him from the side and the shot went wild,
hitting Jacobs in the left shoulder. Jacobs howled in pain and fell
to the left, allowing Tenille a chance to escape. She picked herself
up and ran as fast as she could toward a rock overhang a few dozen
yards away.

Henry and Bob were struggling for the rifle Bob was still holding
tight. After a few minutes, Bob was able to push Henry off him and
club him once with the butt of the gun, knocking him unconscious.

Jacobs pain slowed him down, but only for a moment. Now he was
furious and murder was the only action that would satisfy him. He
shook off the fog growing around the edges of his vision and saw
Tenille, climbing up the side of the rock face, headed for the
overhang. He snarled and rose to his feet, grabbing his shoulder, but
running after her all the same.

Tenille was fairly light on her feet, and unharmed for the most part,
so she had little trouble making it to the overhang. From there, she
could see the floor of the valley below, over 50 feet down. She
wasn't really sure at that point why she had gone there, but some
voice inside her head pointed her in that direction and she wasn't
going to question it. Now that she was there she was all too aware of
how easy it would be to fall over the edge and be killed on the rocks
below. She drew in her breath and looked fearfully around her for a
safe way off the cliff.

Jacobs might have been hurting, but that only helped pump the
adreniline through his veins. He was up the side of the rock face
almost as quickly as Tenille. Once on the top, he sneered at the
young girl, letting loose with an inhuman laugh that made her tremble
to her very bones. Bob heard him and took aim with the rifle, certain
that he wouldn't miss this time. But he never had a chance to fire
the weapon.

Jacobs was moving toward Tenille, a menancing smile plastered on his
face, cooing words he never meant as he got closer and closer. His
intent was to shove her over the edge and watch as her slim body
bounced off the rocks below. He was only three feet from his goal
with the skies above grew suddenly black and once again, lightning
streaked through the air.

End of part 12A

From cenergy@earthlink.net Thu Oct 24 23:38:28 1996
The Brotherhood
Chapter 12B

By Vickie Moseley, vmoseley@fgi.net
and Esther Walker, cenergy@earthlink.net

Time stood still for John Jacobs. At the flash of light, his
attention left Tenille and turned to look over his left shoulder.
There, riding on the clouds, came the Blackfoot war party, whooping
and screaming their anger and fury. In the lead was the same
Blackfoot warrior who had haunted his dreams for the past two days and
nights. He cringed when he felt the rumble of the horses hooves as
they jumped off the clouds and clattered onto the rock overhang.
Sheilding his eyes, Jacobs spun around to jump off the rock on the
side he ascended. It was only 10 or 15 feet to the ground and he
would surely make it. But as he took a step, Dixie appeared out of
thin air, dressed as a Blackfoot warrior, with the war club in her
hand. She swung at him and he felt the blade of the club slice the
air near his right ear. She swung again and he felt the sharp sting
as the blade sliced into his right shoulder. The next swing would
take his head off, he knew that.

Wild eyed, with the warriors bearing down on him from one side and
Dixie effectively blocking his path on the other, Jacobs ran headlong
off the cliff, past a horrified Tenille. As his body hit the floor of
the valley 50 feet below, the storm broke open overhead. The wind was
blowing at gale force and hail the size of quarters was pounding
everything not under some sort of shelter.

It took only a second for Bob to reach Tenille. He didn't have much
time to look over the edge and see the Yeoman leader, crumbled in a
mass below. He hugged Tenille tightly to him and half pulled, half
carried her off the overhang. The storm was growing in intensity,
with lightning striking trees all around them. Bob looked around and
could see that the rest of the Brotherhood had already taken flight,
some heading toward the Canadian border, from the path they made
through the trees and underbrush. He leaned over and shouted
something to Tenille.

"We gotta make a run for it, baby," his voice was just barely heard
above the fury of the storm.

Tenille shook her head emphatically. "No! Dana and that agent.
They'll never make it back. We gotta help 'em," she shouted in
return.

Bob flashed her an exasperated look. "Babe, we can't help 'em. We'll
jest git ourselves killed. Or jailed. Either way our best shot is
Canada. The border's only 12 miles. When we git there, we'll call
somebody, tell 'em where to search." He pleaded for her to understand
him. "I promise, Tenille. I swear to God we'll call and git 'em
help. Now c'mon." He pulled at her arm and she stood firm.

She glared at him as he stood before her, illuminated only by the
lightning that was striking all around them. "NO! I'm gonna help.
If you're scared, go on. Run. Jest don't expect me to follow." She
pulled her arm out of his grasp and started off toward the oak tree
where Mulder had been resting.

"Tenille!" he shouted. "Tenille, you get your sorry ass back here and
come with me! Tenille, Goddammit, I'm leavin'! I mean it!" he yelled
and yelled until he was sure she couldn't hear a word he was saying
over the noise of the storm. "Goddamn you, woman! I don't need your
sorry ass hangin' off me! I kin make it on my own, Tenille!" He
stood staring after her, but finally ducked his head and started for
Canada.

Dana was pretty much oblivious to all that had happened after she
heard Tenille's scream. She wanted more than anything to run after
the young girl and help her, but the mixture she had given Mulder was
starting to take effect. The first coughs were rough, his ribs burned
like fire. They were nothing compared to what quickly followed and
she found herself hugging him tightly from behind, supporting his
ribcage as he coughed and hacked up the phlegm and fluids that were
clogging his lungs.

There was almost no rest between the spasms of coughing, and Dana
began to feel that the pain and the shock might kill him if he wasn't
able to get a deep breath soon. He was growing weaker by the moment.
She was focused on Mulder and didn't notice the growing storm until
they were pelted by the hail that fell like bottlecap sized snowballs
around them. Snowballs that stung and cut with sharp edges.
Realizing they were under a very large, tall lightning rod in the form
of the ancient oak, Dana searched around frantically for some better
location. It would have to be close, she didn't think she could carry
her partner very far.

"Mulder," she shouted over the thunder that was ringing in her ears.
"We have to move."

"Yesh, . . . <cough>, Move . . . now! <cough> Go!" he said and tried
to push her away.

"No way, Mulder! You're coming, too," she shouted back and pulled
harder. She was amazed at how easy it was to move him. Suddenly, she
realized it was because she had help. She looked up and saw Tenille's
bruised face smiling at her. "Tenille, what . . . ?"

"I'll tell y'all later. Right now, we gotta git over t' that pile o'
rocks over there," Tenille shouted. Dana nodded and together they
pulled Mulder into a safer position in a crag of rocks and boulders.
The two women positioned him as best as they could. Dana sat holding
him as he continued to cough, still bringing up the phlegm.
Desparately, she tried to remember which plant Dixie had told her
would work for the cough. It seemed to be dryer than it was and not
as much fluid was coming up.

**Snakeroot, child. Snakeroot. And the cherry bark. The inner bark
ain't so rough, have him chew on it some. It'll help.**

She blinked her eyes and shook her head. This was definitely getting
to be too much for her limited belief in the paranormal. But she
didn't feel she had any other options. "Mulder. Mulder. Fox, can
you hear me?" she said right in his ear so she could be heard above
the storm. He nodded imperceptively. "I want you to chew on this
bark." He turned his head and gave her a worried look. "I mean it.
It's OK. It's cherry bark. It might ease the cough a little." She
gave him an encouraging smile and he gave her a dubious look, but
accepted the slivers of inner bark she had pulled from the pieces
Tenille had collected earlier. He coughed several more times, but the
bark did seem to be helping.

"Tenille, what happened to Jacobs?" Dana asked anxiously.

"He's dead. Fell of the cliff. Jumped, really, if you believe that,"
she answered bitterly. What now?" Tenille whispered as the coughing
fits subsided and Mulder lapsed into an uneasy slumber. "He ain't
goin' too far like that," she pointed out.

"I won't leave him," Dana shot out angrily, then at the stricken look
on the girl's face, she softened her tone. "I'm sorry, Tenille. I
just can't go. Could you find your way back to the compound? I'm
sure the FBI still has the mobile headquarters there, conducting the
search. You could bring back help."

Tenille looked out into the storm and thought hard. "I don't know the
way back," she admitted sadly. "I don't have much sense for
directions. Besides, we were underground most of the time. I don't
even know which way the compound is at this point, do you?"

Dana thought for a moment. It would naturally be south, but then
again, it could be southeast or southwest of their present location.
And a miss was in reality as good as a mile out in the forest they
were in. With the storm raging, it would take nothing to turn a
person around and they could wander for hours in circles. Sending
Tenille might actually only get the girl lost or killed. Dana fought
the angry tears in her eyes. "Then I'll go," she said with
resignation.

Tenille's eyes grew wild. "No! You can't! Your the doctor, here.
He needs you to stay. What could I do? I don't know anything about
this stuff. He'll die, we both know that. Besides, I don't think you
know the way back any better'n I do," Tenille said with a gloat.

"We have to do something," Dana hissed and just then noticed the
figure coming through the trees, searching around the area of the
ancient oak.

"And the rest of the Brotherhood?" Dana continued as the stranger
started making his way over to the crag of rocks they were in. "What
happened to them?"

"Scattered like mice. Some went to Canada. No, not mice, rats," she
said angrily, thinking of the taunts Bob had hurled at her as she
walked away from him. "The rats went to Canada."

"Well, one of the rats is back," Dana said, pointing out the opening
between two boulders. Tenille looked where she was pointing and
jumped up in excitement.

"Bob!" she shouted, getting his attention. "Bob, we're over here!
Bob, in the rocks! We're here! We're here!" she shouted happily.

***********

FBI mobile headquarters,
Yeoman Brotherhood Compound
Daybreak

Walter Skinner hadn't slept a wink. He had spent the last two hours
scouring the maps he had, bullying the helicopter pilots and generally
making an ass of himself. <I have to relax,> he thought to himself.
<I can't afford to make any enemies of these men. I need them to
*want* to do this,> he realized.

Spence Thornley picked his way through the crowd of men and found
Skinner. "Walt, I just talked to the the National Weather Service out
of Billings. There is a massive cell of storms heading this way.
It'll be rocking and rolling here in just a little bit, probably off
and on for the rest of the day." He saw the AD frown and clench his
hands into fists.

"Then we go without 'choppers," he barked in response.

"Walt, there have been men searching the ground all night. They were
underground, the dogs can't pick up a scent. We need those choppers
to give us any kind of an idea where they might be. You know that.
This storm might have a bigger break than they're expecting. But to
try to find those people otherwise would be nothing more than a
cluster fuck and you know that. And to put those choppers up in the
middle of a frigging thunderstorm would be criminal."

"So what do you suggest we do, Agent Thornley?" Skinner growled.

"The same thing you would suggest if you let yourself use your head
instead of your heart, Walter," Spence said, putting his hand on
Skinner's shoulder. "We wait. And we take every opportunity that
comes our way."

***********

Montana Woods
12 miles from the Canadian Border
1 hour after daybreak

"Well, there ain't no way we're gonna carry him out, not in this," Bob
sighed ruefully as he looked out on the torrents of rain coming from
the sky. The lightning and thunder had subsided, but the wind was
still strong enough to blow a man over and the rain was coming down in
sheets. Bob could barely make out the oak tree just some ten feet
from where they were sitting.

The rocks made a makeshift cave, but a wet one. There were rivulets
of water washing down the rocks and puddling where they sat. It had
taken some maneuvering to get Mulder in a tiny corner where the rain
didn't reach him directly, but with the wind blowing and no real roof,
he was still quickly getting soaked to the skin.

"We can't stay here," Dana pointed out for the fourth time in the last
hour since Bob's arrival. "Somebody has to go for help."

Bob looked at her and then at Tenille. He had decided about 15
minutes after seeing Tenille walk off without him that he wasn't going
to let her get out of his life that easily. Walking into a compound
filled with FBI agents had not been on his list of things he would
consider doing to get her back. Walking off a cliff, walking to the
end of the earth, walking to the moon, maybe, but walking into a nest
of Federal vipers, no way. He could see the wheels turning in
Tenille's little head and he immediately put up a protest.

"Stop that thinkin' right there, girl!" he commanded. "I came back
because you're hell bent for leather to help these two and truth be
told, they need it. But there is no way in hell I'm walking back to
that compound. First off, they're liable to shoot first and ask
questions later. Second off, who says they'll believe me if I told
'em I knew where this clump of rocks was, anyway. More'n likely I'll
get thrown in some hell hole of a county lock up and left to rot for
God knows how long," he sputtered angrily.

Tenille looked at him calmly. "He can't walk, Bob. Any fool can see
that. She's a doctor. She can't leave him here. I don't have a
snowball's chance in hell of finding my way back, *alone*, but if you
were to guide me, I could go into the compound first. They'll listen
to me. They think all us women were hostages, anyway. They figgered
we were being held against our will. So they won't shoot at me. By
the time I get 'em started back here, you can come outta hidin' or run
for the hills or learn to fly, for all the good it'll do 'em. All's
they care about is their own, we both know that." She put her hand up
to his cheek and caressed it gently. "Now, quit being such a sissy
and let's git a move on before that storm really starts up agin," she
said with a mocking grin but love in her eyes.

Bob saw the look she was giving him and leaned into her hand to kiss
her palm. "I ain't no sissy, woman," he growled affectionately. "Ah,
hell, c'mon. Let's not take all day to do this." He pulled her to
her feet and together they squeezed out between the two rocks at the
opening. Tenille turned back for just a second.

"We'll bring help as fast as we can, Dana. I swear it, . . . on
Dixie's life, I swear it," she said in her quiet voice. Dana couldn't
be sure if it was rain on her face, or tears that had fallen from her
eyes. Then, they were gone.

They were out of her sight almost immediately. All that was left was
the rain and the wind and Mulder's ragged breathing. He did seem to
be breathing easier, now that the congestion had cleared up a bit.
But it was very apparent that these backwoods home remedies were
stopgap measures at best. What he really needed, and quickly, was a
nice, warm, dry hospital with all the medical technology the late 20th
Century had to offer.

Her own stomach grumbled and threatened to rebel. She hadn't eaten
anything in so long, she couldn't remember. She was not so afraid of
dehydration at the moment, if anything, the opposite was the problem.
But no food for so long was making her weak and she feared for
herself, the baby and Mulder. If she fell asleep now, and he needed
her, would she wake up? She was exhausted, but forced her eyes open.
When sleep threatened again, she started talking.

"Mulder?" she asked, shaking his shoulder gently. "Wake up. You need
to drink some more."

Groggily, he turned toward her. She had ripped a corner from his
shirt and had used it to make a compress for his black eye using the
arnica that was at the bottom of the thermos. The swelling had gone
down enough for him to open it a slit. He took a while longer than
she had hoped to come awake and he had difficulty focusing on her, but
finally he made contact.

" . . . thirsty . . . " he agreed and she lifted the goatskin up to
his lips and gave him a drink.

"Tenille and Bob went back to the compound to get help. The cavalry's
on the way, Mulder. We just have to hold out till they get here," she
said with a reassuring smile.

" . . . if we don't . . . drown first," he rasped and coughed hard.
He drew in a ragged breath and closed his eyes against the pain.
"What happened . . . to Jacobs?" he asked after a moment.

"Tenille said he jumped off a cliff," Dana said with wonderment in her
voice. "I think he attacked her. She has a black eye and a bruised
cheek and her blouse was torn. I can't understand why Bob didn't just
shoot him. He had the rifle and I'm sure I heard gunfire."

" . . . maybe that's . . . how he fell," Mulder reasoned as he shifted
to find a more comfortable position. It was a futile effort. Every
way he moved just left him aching even more. Finally he gave up.
"Dana?"

She looked at him in answer.

"You were . . . concerned . . . about . . ." he stopped to cough again
and finally caught his breath. " . . . there's a sharp pain . . .
bad . . . in the small of my back." He moved his arm to show her.
When she pressed, he let out a howl. " . . . that's . . . the place
all right," he said through gritted teeth.

Dana closed her eyes tightly. "OK, Dixie, now what?" she whispered.
There was no soft country accent in the back of her mind.

"Dana? Who . . . are you talking to?" Mulder rasped.

"Shhhh," Dana said to quiet him. She sat absolutely still again for
several minutes. When she opened her eyes, it was as if a lightbulb
had gone off in her head. The rain had let up a bit and she quickly
hopped out between the rocks and was back in a moment with some leaves
of a plant that were large and course, hairy with shiny edges.

" they teach you this . . . at Georgetown?" he asked with a half
snort, half cough.

"No," came her sharp reply. "And if you try and tell anyone I'm doing
this, I will deny every word of it, Fox Mulder. For some reason, this
stuff is helping and I'm not going to question." Again, using two
rocks to serve as a mortar and pestal, she ground the leaves into a
paste and added some water to the paste in the palm of her hand. He
sipped it and made a face.

"So that's . . . what *hemlock* . . . tastes like," he quipped and
leaned back with his eyes closed from the effort.

"It's not *hemlock*, Socrates! It's *comfrey* and if you *are*
bleeding internally, that might help. Now lie quiet. We have a long
wait ahead of us." She moved over so that she was holding him in her
arms and his head was resting on her chest. "Better?" she asked.

"Ummm," came the reply.

"Good," she said, kissing his forehead as she stroked his hair.
"Rest, Fox. I'll take this watch. You can have the next one," she
murmured into his ear. She kept placing soft kisses on his forehead
even after his breathing had settled into a steady rhythm and she knew
he was asleep.

End chapter 12

From cenergy@earthlink.net Thu Oct 24 23:39:36 1996
The Brotherhood
Chapter 13

By Esther Walker, cenergy@earthlink.net
and Vickie Moseley, vmoseley@fgi.net

Montana Woods
10:30 A.M.

In the four hours since they had left the FBI agents, Bob and Tenille
had covered very little ground. If anything, the storm had intensified
since its auspicious beginning and had made every step treacherous.
Tenille had slipped and fallen several times and was covered with
bruises and scratches, not to mention mud, to prove it. Bob had
slipped only once, but it was enough to pummel him down a steep ravine
and cause substantial damage to his left shoulder.

He had stopped walking and was rubbing his shoulder absently when he
felt Tenille's hand on his back and heard her voice in his ear.

"Bob," she was shouting, barely able to hear her own voice above the
din of the storm. "Bob, are you okay?" It was the third time she had
asked since he had fallen and for the third time he nodded.

"I'm fine," he shouted back. "I just don't know where we are. I don't
even know if we're headin' in the right direction anymore." He looked
at her, a mixture of exasperation and anger on his face. "I don't even
know what the hell we're doing, Tenille. Risking our lives for the
very people I've hated all my life. The same people that are going to
throw us in jail the minute they git a chance." He was out of breath,
wet, cold and tired and the pain in his arm was only making him
angrier.

"Bob, don't talk that way," Tenille pleaded. "Dana and the other
agent, they'll die out there if we don't get help." She wasn't getting
to him. Bob's shoulder was throbbing now and he was beyond feeling
sorry for anyone but himself. His stare was transparent and it was
obvious his mind was somewhere else.

"God damn you," Tenille shouted, tears blending with the rain that
fell from her face. At a loss and feeling a surge of pent up anger,
she did the only thing that came to mind, she shoved Bob's battered
shoulder with so much force, he fell to his knees.

"What the...hell?" His words came in quick gasps as he stared up at
Tenille, blinking the rain out of his eyes.

Slowly, no longer feeling the adrenaline pumping through her body,
Tenille bent down in front of him and held his face in her hands. "I
want you to think about the pain in your shoulder, Bob." He didn't
understand. Her voice was strong, authoritarian, and even to her it
sounded foreign. "Think about how it feels. How much you're hurtin'."

"Tenille, what the...?"

"Shh," she answered quickly, covering his mouth with her hand. "Think
about it, Bob. Think about the pain from one lousy fall." She paused
for a moment, letting her words sink in. When he could only stare at
her, unable to say anything, she continued. "Now picture John throwing
the scalding water at the FBI agent, kicking him in the ribs until you
could hear the bones breakin', beatin' him until he was out cold. Now
picture him sittin' in that pile o' rocks, next to his pregnant wife,
wondering if he'll live long enough to meet his baby." Tenille stopped
to take a deep breath. It was hard for her to continue, but she wasn't
finished. "Can you feel your pain, Bob? Can you feel it?" she shouted.
"Can you feel his?"

It took a moment for her words and anger to register, and when they
did, she was no longer in front of him. She was on her feet, with her
back to him, wiping the tears she didn't want him to see.

Even in the pouring rain, with her hair soaking wet and matted to her
face, her clothes tattered and filthy, Tenille managed to elicit
feelings in him he didn't know existed. He didn't quite understand how
she did it, or what it was she was doing exactly, but he suddenly felt
an inexplicable sense of guilt and an overwhelming desire to make it
all better. Unfortunately, words were never his strong point and by
the time he had managed to get on his feet he was no closer to knowing
what to say.

"Tenille, I..." he stammered, resisting the urge to lash out when she
brushed his hand away from her shoulder. "What do you want me to do,
woman? What more do you want from me?" he begged.

Tenille stared at him blankly. If he didn't know by now...

"Okay, look," Bob had decided to take another tack. "We're lost. Ain't
nothin' I can do 'bout that." He looked at her sheepishly, hoping she
would say something, anything. But she said nothing.

They stood in the rain for a long time, in a stalemate, until Tenille
was ready to speak again. When she did, her voice was so low, Bob had
to strain to hear her.

"We have to keep moving," she said matter of factly. "Even if we don't
know where we're headed, we have to keep moving until we run into
someone that can help, or until...until we die tryin'."

She allowed herself to look at Bob, whose eyes were unwavering in his
response. "You're right," he said, taking her by the arm. "Let's go."

Tenille suppressed a smile and let him lead her through the rain and
the brush that surrounded them, finally letting herself laugh out loud
when she heard him mumble under his breath, "God damn woman. I can
only imagine what's in store for the rest of my life. However short it
may be..."

12:45 P.M.
Montana Woods
12 miles from the Canadian border

"No, no...don't take her...take me....please..." Mulder's delirium,
coupled with a coughing fit and subsequent gasping for air, was enough
to wake Scully in a panic. She had resisted sleep for as long as she
could, comforting him every time he moved and winced in pain, every
time he coughed and couldn't breathe, until staying awake was no
longer an option. Until she had no fight left in her.

She had caught the tail end of his nightmare and realized at once his
fever had gone up. "Shh, it's okay. I'm right here. Shh." She stroked
his hair gently, wiping the sweat from his forehead until he opened
his eyes and saw her, a forced smile on her lips. "You were having a
nightmare," she whispered. "It's okay. How do you feel?"

"Been...better..." he coughed, gritting his teeth to prevent from
screaming. Scully held him tightly, feeling a chill go down her spine
when she felt him shiver underneath her arms. She wrapped the blanket
Tenille had left behind tightly around him, ignoring the fact that it
was soaking wet.

"I'm...cold...Scully," Mulder rasped and it was all she could do to
keep from crying. From experience she knew Mulder would have to be
near death before he complained to her about anything. She moved in
closer, hoping to provide some warmth while acknowledging the sheer
futility of the effort. They were both soaking wet and cold.

Scully looked up to the blackened sky for answers, for hope. Now what,
Dixie, she said to herself. He's burning up, he's got chills. I don't
think he can hold on much longer.

"Find some peppermint, child," Dana heard Dixie's reassuring voice and
it made her cry. "Cayenne pepper plant'll work with the chills too,
but it might bring on more aggravation than that one's worth.
Peppermint'll help with the fever too, as will mayapples." Before Dana
could speak, before she could express any fears, Dixie spoke again.
"Don't be scared, child. I'll guide you. You just tell your man you'll
be right back and come with me. I won't steer you wrong."

Dana looked at Mulder. His breathing was erratic, but at least he was
able to catch deeper breaths since getting rid of all the phlegm that
had been clogging his lungs. But the pain in his ribs had only
intensified with the coughing and he was clearly in distress. And now,
every time he shivered his ribs moved, adding to his overall
discomfort. "Mulder, I'll be right back. I need to find something for
your fever. For the cold," she whispered in his ear.

She felt his hand on hers, with a grip she was sure he didn't have the
strength for.

"No," he said, eyes barely open. "Too...windy...you'll
get....hurt...I'm...okay." But his body betrayed him and he started to
cough again.

"Here," Scully said, bringing what little water was left up to his
lips. "Drink this." He drank slowly, savoring every drop, and when he
was finished he found a piece of cherry bark in his mouth. "Now chew
on this," she said sweetly but firmly. "It helped with your cough
earlier."

Mulder attempted a smile and settled for a pathetic expression of
gratitude. At least he hoped that's how she saw it. "Scully..." He
took the bark out of his mouth. "Sorry...about....all this."

"It's not your fault, Mulder. You were just doing your job. Who knew
John Jacobs was insane?"

"I...should've...known..." he coughed again and immediately started
chewing on the bark, before Scully could say anything.

"There was no way of knowing, Mulder." Scully reassured him gently.
"Now sit still and I'll be right back."

Before he could protest, before he could stop her, she disappeared
from the rocks and was out of his sight. Mulder laid his head back and
closed his eyes. Speaking, breathing, thinking, staying conscious in
general was taking more effort than he had in him. Reflecting on his
life with Dana and their future as a family was the only thing keeping
him alive. But even those thoughts were losing their grasp on him.

"Don't let go, Fox."

"Melissa?"

"Yes, it's me. Dad wanted to come but I convinced him I should do it,
since you never met him and he can be pretty intimidating on a first
run." Melissa was on the ground beside him, trying to secure the
blanket around his still body. "This thing's useless," she muttered.
"It's soaking wet."

"Don't...tell...Scully," Mulder mused.

"Hey, I'm really proud of my little sister. She's taken to this
backwoods doctoring pretty well."

"She...had a good...teacher."

"Yeah," Melissa smiled. "Dixie's a hoot. I think dad's taken a shining
to her."

"What?" Even for Mulder, Melissa was sometimes way out there.

"Made you think," Melissa replied mischievously. "Dixie's too happy to
be with Jeremiah to notice anyone else right now. But she did find me
and send me here. She would've come herself except she's busy helping
Dana take care of you. She's even got Jeremiah working." Mulder raised
his eyebrows. "She sent him off to guide Bob and Tenille. You might be
here long enough to see a change of seasons if those two were left on
their own to find help."

Mulder coughed hard and Melissa held him tightly, just as her sister
had done not so long ago. When he had caught his breath, he looked up
at her, his eyes glassy with fever. "Melissa...I..."

"I know," she whispered. "It hurts. And if you give up the pain will
go away. But please believe me when I tell you your baby girl is worth
everything you're going through to survive. She's beautiful, Fox. You
don't want to miss her."

"I'll...try..." he gasped, using all his strength to bring the cherry
bark back up to his mouth. "But..."

"But nothing," Melissa replied sternly. "You'd have no fun with us,
Fox. There are no mysteries up there. Everything's solved. You'd go
crazy playing Parcheesi with dad all day."

Mulder smiled. The first smile he had managed in a long time.
"Oh...no...not...Parcheesi."

Melissa stood up and kissed the top of his head. "I hear the dice
now," she smiled. "Hang in there, Fox. Dana would make a lousy single
mother." With that she was gone, leaving Mulder feeling warmer than he
had in a very long time.

Outside the compound
2:15 P.M.

"Hey hotshot," Spencer Thornley could barely hold back a smirk when he
entered the tent in search of Walter Skinner. The last 72 hours had
been hell, but being able to volley snide remarks back and forth with
his old friend and colleague had at least alleviated some of the
tension. This time, he really had some ammunition.

At the sight of Skinner, still hunched over the makeshift table,
poring over the same maps he had been staring at for 24 hours, he
almost held back, but in the end he decided they both could use some
ribbing. "Your shipment's arrived," he said.

"Oh good," Skinner said, standing up slowly, the metal chair he had
been sitting on most of the night reminding him he wasn't as young as
he used to be. "Where is it?"

"*They*, good buddy," Thornley answered with amusement. "Where are
they?"

Skinner raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean they? I only ordered
one."

Thornley laughed. "That's so like you, Walter. You decide you want to
have some fun, go four wheelin' in the rain and you don't want to
share your toys. That's why I got my own. Now we don't have to share."

Skinner smiled, in spite of himself. "What the hell do you know about
all-terrain vehicles, Spence? From the looks of you the last thing you
sat on for any length of time was a stool at the lunch counter in the
commissary."

"All I know is I want you in front," Thornley said, leading the way
outside. "In this storm it's hard to tell if it's day or night. I'll
need that beacon at the top of your head to light the way."

Once outside the tent the sight of the armed agents posted everywhere
rapidly brought both men to reality. That and the storm, which had
quickly escalated to near hurricane status and had turned the ground
to sludge in some parts and small rivers in others. The clapboard
building that was the compound was no longer visible from where they
stood.

"Where are they?" Skinner asked, planting his feet firmly in the
ground to avoid being swept away. His actions made him think of Agent
Scully, a very small woman, caught somewhere beyond his reach in this
howling nightmare.

"Around back," Thornley replied, waiting for his friend to catch up to
him. "You have a plan?"

Before Skinner could answer, both men were struck by the sight of the
two pick-up trucks that had been commandeered to deliver the
all-terrain vehicles to this part of the world. A part of the world
generally difficult to get to, but near impossible in the middle of
the worst storm in a decade. The trucks were easily three feet off the
ground, with tires bigger than any the two officers had ever seen.

The two drivers were about as big as their trucks and were having a
hell of a time getting the first vehicle down the ramp. Skinner and
Thornley wasted no time in helping the men with the three wheel
vehicles.

It took some maneuvering, mostly because everything around them was
slippery, but eventually the four men managed to get both vehicles off
the trucks and onto the ground.

"Who's going to be driving these?" asked one of the truckers.

"We are," Thornley answered, before Skinner could bat an eye.

The truckers looked at the two men in front of them suspiciously,
obviously surprised at the response, but quickly ignored whatever they
were thinking and began giving instructions.

"These are the most powerful ATV's made," the first trucker continued.
They'll get you where you're going, even in this kind of weather and
terrain, but you need to know what you're doing or you can easily get
yourself killed."

Skinner nodded, unsure of what he intended to do now that
transportation had arrived. He had hoped by the time the vehicle got
there he would have come up with a plan, a way to locate his agents,
but no such plan had evolved. He was no closer to finding his two
agents now than he had been yesterday, when the weather was complying
and he could see ten feet in front of him. He sighed quietly,
listening intently to the trucker's instructions. This ATV seemed a
lot bigger than the one he had crashed back in high school.

Montana Woods
3:05 P.M.

Tenille thought her words were coming back to haunt her. "Until we die
trying," she heard herself telling Bob. How long ago had that been?
Five minutes or ten hours? She had no idea. And frankly, she no longer
cared. The events of the last three days, not to mention the last five
weeks, had taken their toll. The previous ten hours, fighting the
cold, the hail and the mud, had nearly broken what reserve she had
left. It was only her promise to Dana, the promise that they would
return with help, on Dixie's life, that had gotten her this far.

Bob had said very little in the last few hours and she knew he too was
operating on pure adrenaline. He held his left arm close to his chest
and she could only assume he had done some serious damage to it when
he fell. She had stopped asking him about it hours ago, cringing
slightly whenever he stumbled and she saw him grit his teeth in pain.

She had questioned Bob only once, when she felt they were headed in an
odd direction, and his answer had kept her quiet throughout the rest
of the ordeal. "Somethin's tellin' me this is the right way," he had
said. "I can't explain it. You'll just have to trust me."

She heard Bob swear under his breath and her contemplations ended
abruptly. "What is...Oh my God..." The hail and the wind were so
fierce, neither one had noticed the back of the compound until they
were a mere 20 feet away from it. "We found it, Bob. We did it. We
found it." Tenille couldn't contain herself, she was so elated. She
threw her arms around Bob and gave him a hug. Bob hugged her back with
his good arm, at the same time searching the area for the armed guards
he knew would be posted everywhere. Tenille let go when she noticed
his body tense. "What is it?" she whispered.

"There's a couple of guards up yonder," he whispered. "Over there on
the right."

"You go back Bob," Tenille said bravely. "You hide until you can get
away. I'll go talk to them."

Bob didn't hesitate with his answer. "You listen to me, woman. You may
have a way with me that I didn't think was possible up until now, but
if you think I come all this way to see you walk away from me, while I
go runnin' with my tail between my legs, well...you got another think
comin'."

"But Bob..." Tenille was touched. "They're likely to throw you in
jail. They won't do anything to me."

"Let's go, woman," Bob said, taking her hand and pulling her with him.
"We're in this together."

They made their way to the guard closest to them, both of them
throwing their hands up in the air when the agent finally saw them and
pointed his rifle directly at them. The sudden movement didn't help
Bob's shoulder, but he kept his hands up just the same.

"Who are you?" shouted the agent.

"Farrell. My name is Bob Farrell. And this here is Tenille Harris. We
have information on the two FBI agents that are missing."

The agent looked at them dubiously. He couldn't remember ever seeing
anyone more filthy and ragged. They had obviously been to hell and
back. "What kind of information?" he finally asked.

"We know where they are," Tenille chimed in. "Well, sort of," she
added, realizing she would be hard pressed to pinpoint the exact steps
they took to get to the compound.

The agent took a compact radio out of his raincoat's pocket and
pressed a button before speaking. "Thornley," he said. "Come in
Thornley."

After a moment Thornley's voice cut through the static. "Yeah, this is
Thornley."

"Sir, this is Agent Broward. I'm standing guard behind the compound
and I've got two people in front of me that say they know where the
missing FBI agents are."

"What?" Thornley was on his feet, with Skinner immediately at his
side. "Who are they?"

"A man and a woman, sir," the agent answered. "Say their names are Bob
Farrell and Tenille Harris."

Thornley and Skinner both recognized the names as those they had seen
on a list of people inside the compound. "Bring them in," Thornley
shouted, praying that it wasn't too late to help Mulder and Scully.

Skinner was outside instantly, pacing back and forth until he could
see Bob and Tenille emerge from the storm, Agent Broward holding his
rifle to their backs. He was at their side in no time, briefly
introducing himself and then prodding them with questions, forcing
himself to ignore their appearance. He didn't want to feel anything
for these people, certainly nothing that would cloud his judgment.

"Where are Agents Mulder and Scully?" Was the first thing he asked.

"They're sheltered in a pile of rocks, a few miles from here," Bob
replied.

"Are they alive?" Skinner wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"Yes," Bob answered hesitantly, unable to elaborate.

"Are they hurt?" Skinner was losing his patience. He wanted all the
answers and he wanted them now.

"The man is hurt," Tenille answered, sparing Bob the gruesome details.
"He's hurt...pretty badly."

They had reached the tent and Skinner led them inside, motioning to
Agent Broward to stay outside and stand guard.

"How badly?" Thornley asked. "What are his injuries?"

Tenille answered again. "John beat him pretty bad. Several times. He
burnt his hand. In the beginning I think I heard he had a concussion
and some broken ribs. I, um..." she hesitated, trying to think of what
both Dixie and Dana had told her and what she had overheard. "I think
he has a lot of broken ribs and Dana said he had pneumonia. He had a
fever when we left and was having a hard time breathing."

Skinner cringed. "What about Agent Scully?"

"She's okay," Tenille answered, "but she's afraid he's dyin'. He needs
to get to a hospital."

"Where's the rest of your group?" Thornley asked. "And what made you
two come back?"

"We came back to get help for the FBI agents," Tenille said defiantly,
meeting Thornley's stare.

"Why?"

"Because John went insane," Bob answered evenly. "Because those two
agents didn't deserve what they got." Because he killed Dixie, he said
to himself.

"You still haven't answered my question," Thornley continued. "Where's
the rest of the Brotherhood?"

Bob and Tenille quickly explained the events of the last three days,
ending with Jacobs' death and the scattering of the Brotherhood.

"Can you lead us to them?" Skinner asked, anxious to get going.

"I think so," Bob said, wincing when he accidentally swung his
shoulder.

"What's the matter with your arm?" Skinner asked, relaxing a little.
He had realized during their brief conversation that Bob and Tenille
had not only risked their lives getting help for his two agents, but
were prepared to do it again.

"Nothing," Bob answered stoically.

Or stupidly, as Tenille saw it. "He fell down a hill," she
volunteered. "I think it's hurt pretty bad."

Bob glared at her, but softened a bit when he saw the expression of
concern on her face. Even covered in mud she was the most beautiful
thing he had ever seen.

"Spence, can you get one of the medics in here. Have him bring his
case in. He can help us figure out what we need to get out to Mulder
and Scully while he takes a look at Bob's shoulder."

Spencer Thornley nodded and headed out in search of a paramedic. I
guess I'm going to get a chance to try out that ATV after all, he
mused. Not quite sure if the nerves he was feeling were eager
anticipation or trepidation.

***********

Bob had dislocated his shoulder in the fall and the paramedic was able
to put the bone back in the socket in no time. The young man was able
to contain himself while the excruciating procedure was taking place,
but slumped into a chair, in a cold sweat, the instant the paramedic
let go of him. "I can give you a shot for the pain" the paramedic
said, "but it's bound to knock you out."

"No," Bob answered quickly. "I need to stay awake. I'm fine."

Tenille sat by his side, holding his hand, while Skinner and Thornley
relayed Mulder's injuries and how he got them to the paramedic.

"It sounds like you'll need a respirator," the paramedic was saying,
"and some heavy duty antibiotics. He's probably dehydrated, so I'll
give you something for that. If he was beaten that severely he might
be bleeding internally too." The paramedic paused. "Will either of you
know what to do with all this stuff once you get to him?"

Skinner and Thornley shook their heads. "No," Skinner answered, "but
Agent Scully will."

"Why don't I come with you. I'm trained in emergency medicine and
based on these injuries it doesn't sound like he's got a lot of time."

Thornley spoke first. "It's a dangerous mission, son. A.D. Skinner and
I aren't prepared to risk anyone else's life on this."

"I'm prepared to take the risk, Sir," the young paramedic answered. "I
would hope someone would do the same for me if I ever needed it."

Thornley looked at Skinner. They had already had an argument with Bob
and Tenille over the fact that they refused to lead them to Mulder and
Scully unless they stayed together. And it was obvious Walter Skinner
would not be willing to stay behind. He would sooner walk to the
agents than stay put for another minute.

"Can you ride an all-terrain vehicle, son?"

"Can't grow up in Montana and not know how to ride one, Sir." the
paramedic answered with a smile.

"Okay then," Thornley agreed. "You take my place. Just keep me
informed of your whereabouts at all times. A.D. Skinner will be
carrying a radar beacon that'll enable us to track him at all times.
And a radio in case he needs to relay anything back to us. With that
we'll be able to send a helicopter to your location as soon as the
weather permits."

Skinner turned to Bob and Tenille. "Ready?"

They both stood up and nodded. Tenille was praying silently. Praying
that whatever had guided Bob to the compound was still around to guide
him in the other direction.

6:20 P.M.
Montana Woods
12 miles from the Canadian border

Scully felt Mulder's forehead for the tenth time. It had been a couple
of hours since his fever had broken, but she didn't trust the
peppermint to work miracles. Or to keep it down indefinitely.

"How...am I...doing?" Mulder asked, startling her.

"I thought you were asleep," she answered, moving a little closer to
him and letting his head rest on her chest.

"Who can...sleep...with...Marcus....Welby by his...side." Mulder
settled back and tried to catch his breath.

"Very funny. Marcus Welby would have drugged you into submission by
now."

"Oooh. Scully...I thought...you'd...never...ask."

"Not tonight honey, you have a headache."

Mulder tried to laugh but instead found himself coughing. "I'd
forgotten....I had...a....headache."

"Shh. Stop talking and try and rest. The cavalry should be here soon."
Scully's concern was growing with every passing minute. It had been
nearly 12 hours since Bob and Tenille had left in search of help and
there was still no sign of a rescue effort. To complicate matters the
storm was still raging all around them and in her heart of hearts she
knew no helicopter would be sent in to rescue them in this weather.

There had been a lot of turns when they were walking in the mine and
she had guessed by the time they came out they weren't that far from
the compound. But what if Bob and Tenille had gotten lost? What if
they were walking in circles? What if they had changed their minds and
headed to Canada after all? Mulder felt her shivering.

"Scully...you...okay?"

"I'm fine, Mulder. Just a little cold."

"You think...Bob...and Tenille...changed...their minds?"

How did he do it? How did he always know what she was thinking? "What
are you, psychic?" Scully thought of lying, but realized it would do
neither one any good. There was only so much weight she could carry
and the pressure was starting to take its toll.

Mulder shifted his position so he could look at her, immediately
regretting the action. The effort to move required more strength than
he had and he found himself gasping for air. The pain in his lower
back was excruciating and forced him to close his eyes tightly in an
attempt to make it go away.

"Mulder? Mulder what's wrong?" Scully was in front of him, one hand
on his shoulder, one on his face.

"My...back...." he gasped, clenching his jaw against the pain.

"Your lower back, where you showed me earlier?" Scully could barely
hide the panic from her voice.

Mulder nodded. The pain had been building for hours and although he
had managed to keep it from Scully, this last exertion left him
virtually paralyzed, unable to hide anything from her. Worrying about
Scully and her emotional well-being only added to his distress level,
until he felt himself slipping away from her. Away from the rain and
the cold. Away from the pain. He felt his body relax under her touch
and forced himself to open his eyes, to look at her one last time.

"Mulder, talk to me. Don't leave me here. Fox, please, hold on."
Scully had felt his body go limp, the tension that had kept him alive
slowly releasing him. She was in a frenzy, her terror beyond
comprehension, as she shouted words he couldn't hear.

Mulder could see Scully, see her lips moving, but he no longer wanted
to hear what she was saying. He wanted to tell her that he loved her,
but he couldn't make his mouth form the words. His lids grew heavy,
his eyes started to close, but they were jolted open by a hard slap
across his face.

"Mulder, damnit, don't do this. Help is on the way." Hysteria was
taking over and Scully found herself sobbing uncontrollably as she
spoke.

"Fox, she's right. Help is on the way. Closer than you think." He felt
Melissa's presence but couldn't see her."

"Hurts...too...much...Me...li....ssa..."

"What?" Scully was shaken to her core. She felt a chill and looked
around. Was Mulder talking to her sister? Was Missy there to help? To
keep him alive? Her sense of calm was shortlived. When she looked back
at Mulder his eyes were closed and she realized he had given up.

End chapter 13

From cenergy@earthlink.net Thu Oct 24 23:40:59 1996
The Brotherhood
Chapter 14

By Vickie Moseley, vmoseley@fgi.net
and Esther Walker, cenergy@earthlink.net

12 Miles from the Canadian Border
6:45 pm

"No, son, you don't want to do this," a strong hand on his
shoulder forced Mulder to turn around. Before him stood an
older man, nearing 60, but with eyes that looked much younger.
His receding hairline left only a fringe of grey around his head,
but when Mulder looked closely, he could still see a hint of red
there. Still, it was the man's eyes that struck Mulder the most--
they were the same eyes he had just looked into, the ones he
searched for a thousand times a day. They were the eyes of his
wife.

"Captain Scully?" Mulder asked. He had never met Dana's
father, had only seen a few candid pictures that Dana had on the
mantel in their apartment, but this was definitely the partriarch of
the Scully clan. His very bearing spoke of his years at sea, the
men he had commanded, the risks he had taken and won.

"Son, Fox, you don't want to leave her. I know. I didn't
want to leave my Maggie and we had a much longer time
together than you two." Bill Scully wouldn't let go of his
shoulder, so Mulder put his hand on the other man's arm.

"But even you have to admit that you didn't have a choice,
sir," Mulder said sadly. "I don't want to leave her. I'll never
want to be anywhere but right beside her. But I can't hold out
any longer. I'm tired. I'm hurt. There's nothing that is my
choice here. I just don't have the strength."

"Let me show you something that might give you a little help
in the strength department, Fox," Bill said with a gleam in his
eye. "Follow me."

Mulder didn't think they had walked more than a few feet, but
he saw they were now in a yard. The backyard to a house. It
had a large sycamore tree to the left, and an oak tree to the far
right. Near the house were magnolia and dogwood with a small
rose garden bordering a patio deck. In the center of the yard was
a large wooden jungle gym complete with two swings and a
circular slide. Three children, two boys and a girl, were playing
happily on the swings and slide.

The children were shouting at each other. Mulder listened
closely and heard their names, Meggie, Willie and Sam. They
were fighting over who was their parent's favorite.

"Meggie is Dad's favorite," the older of the two boys said
with a sneer. "He lets her get by with *anything*!"

"Not true, Will-i-am," the little girl drawled out her brother's
name in a taunt. "Besides, Sammy is Mommie's little angel. He
never gets in trouble!"

"Am not!" said the youngest boy, all of about 4 years of age.
"Mommy loves us all. She says so when she kisses us 'night."
That seemed to be all the evidence needed to support his claim.

"But Meggie is still Daddy's favorite," Willie said with a
triumphant smile. "It's a complexion."

"That's 'complex' you doof," Maggie jeered. Now that he was
looking closer, Mulder figured the girl was about 9. "And no it's
not. Daddy loves us all. He always has. That's why he comes
home to us every night. 'Cause he loves us and wants to be with
us."

Mulder's heart ached. Something inside him told him who
these children were. They were his, his children. He wanted so
much to run to them, take them in his arms. But then, he
realized that unless he survived, he would never see this bright
young girl, and the two boys would never even come to be. He
closed his eyes against the pain at his loss.

"You want to go back, don't you, son?" Bill asked. Mulder
couldn't speak, he could only nod.

"Then fight a little harder. You have it in you, Fox. Just fight
a little harder. I know you can do it," the older man smiled and
shrugged. "Starbuck wouldn't have given you a second look if
you were a quitter."

************************************
7:00 pm

Dana was sobbing so hard, all the while trying to keep up the
rhythm of CPR, that she didn't hear the all terrain vehicles
making their way through the forest. It wasn't until she felt a
small hand on her shoulder that she even knew anyone was near
her. She looked up and into Tenille's face.

"He's gone," she sobbed and started to go back to her fight to
bring him back to her. Tenille gripped her shoulders and pulled
her away, leaving room for the paramedic to take over. He went
to work immediately, frantically taking up the efforts that Dana
had already begun.

"Agent Scully, here," Skinner said gently, enfolding her in a
woolen blanket. He could see her shivering and noticed that her
lips were tinted blue. "You don't want to catch . . ." He stopped
himself from going any further with that train of thought. At that
moment, he had no doubt that Dana Scully couldn't have cared
less for what might or might not happen to herself. All her
thoughts were on her husband.

After what seemed like an eternity, the paramedic jumped
back, searching through his bag. "I got a pulse, and some pretty
faint breath sounds. Now, we gotta get him back pronto, before
we lose him for real," he spat out to Skinner.

"He's bleeding internally, his right kidney," Scully said,
instantly moving over to help the paramedic. "And he has a
concussion. Pneumonia's been a problem for a couple of days.
I've been treating with, ah, some local remedies," she said, not
expounding on what those 'rememdies' might be. Now that there
was something to do, she shoved all emotions to the back of her
mind and became the professional again. "How are you going to
transport? Chopper?"

The paramedic and Skinner both looked at the sky. Although
the rain had slowed somewhat in the last 15 minutes, the wind
was not abating at all. The two men exchanged dubious looks.
"I don't think so, Agent Scully," Skinner said steadily.

"Well, we sure as hell aren't *walking* him out of here," she
said with disgust.

"Hold up, let me see if the cavalry can get here,"
Skinner said, pulling out the radio he had hastily clipped to his
belt before taking off on the ATV. "Spence. This is Walt. We
need an evac. I repeat, we need an evac. Do you read me?
Over."

There was static as he pushed the button and all four
conscious people held their breath collectively. Then a voice
burst through the static.

"Walt! We're here, buddy! And it looks like it's lettin' up
toward the west. We're down to a drizzle here. I got a chopper
fired up and ready. Just give us your location and we'll be there
in a jiffy." Skinner smiled as he heard the three others with him
start breathing again.

It took the chopper just 20 minutes to be at their location.
Mulder was loaded on a stokes and placed in the chopper to be
delivered to the nearest hospital. There was just enough room
for Dana and the paramedic to come along. That left Skinner,
Tenille and Bob to take the ATV's back to the compound.

Thanks to the let up in the rain, they were able to push through
to the compound in a little over an hour and a half. Once there,
Skinner handed Tenille and Bob over to Spence Thornley,
grabbed the first available rental car and took off for the hospital,
over forty miles away by back country roads.

Sawyer County Medical Center
2:14 am

After much argument, Skinner and two nurses had
convinced Dana to change into dry clothes and a blanket was
now wrapped around her shoulders. Even in the warmth of the
small hospital, she still couldn't get warm.

A bowl of soup sat on the table between chairs in the waiting
area, having gone cold without being touched. A cup of coffee,
light, no sugar, was full except for the three sips Dana had taken
before sitting it down and forgetting it existed. Mulder had been
taken into surgery almost immediately upon his arrival and had
been there for nearly five hours. The floor wax was showing signs of
wear from her pacing.

"Sweetheart. Dana, how are you?" Maggie greeted her as
she took her into a big hug.

"Not so good, Mom," Dana said and finally let the tears fall.
"Fox. He's . . ."

Maggie held her as Dana sobbed against her shoulder. "He's
made it through before, sweetie. He's not going to give up on
you, now. Besides, we're going to give him all the reasons we
can to come back to us." She steered Dana over to a chair and
sat down next to her. "I have something I want you two to look
at when we get you back home to DC."

*********************
5:00 pm

Dana had been curled up in the chair so long that her back
was hurting. There was an empty bed just on the other side of
his bed, but she didn't want to go even that far away from him
before he woke up. So she squirmed a little and tried
unsuccessully to get comfortable.

The combined efforts of her mother and the Assistant
Director had forced her into a 6 hour slumber after Mulder was
moved to recovery. When she woke up, he was settled in his
own room and she had been there ever since.

She wiggled and tried to settle once again. A strange flutter
hit her stomach. It was almost unnoticeable--if it had not been
such a distraction from her discomfort. When it hit her a second
time, she put her hand to her stomach. It felt funny. Like the
flutter of wings on glass. "Butterfly wings," she said a loud,
without realizing. She remembered a talk she'd had with her
mother just a week or so before, after her monthly visit to the
obstetrician. Finally, a knowing smile graced her lips and she bit
her lip at the wonder of the experience.

Beside her, the man lying so quietly on the white hospital bed
moved and groaned softly. She reached over and took his hand
in her own, smiling expectantly at his face. "Hey, sleepy head.
Time to wake up. She watched as his eyelids fluttered slightly,
but stubbornly refused to open.

"C'mon, wake up, Fox. I have news," she said, tempting him
to look at her.

Mulder took a deep breath, then regretted the action. He
hurt, all over. Even through the dull fog of pain killers, he was
still very sore, from his ribs, his lungs, his arm and his back. He
was almost afraid to wonder how long he would be hooked up to
IV's this time. It had definitely been a close one. But there was
a very good reason why he had come back and she was
squeezing his hand, insisting that he open his eyes.

He opened his left eye, it was blurry. He opened his right eye
and discovered that, although it was clearer, his vison was still
hazy. "News?" he croaked. He swallowed, but found there was
no moisture in his mouth. Instinctively, Dana raised the water
glass and drinking straw next to his lips and he drank, then
nodded when he was finished.

"Sure enough," she said with a smile. "Here, give me your
hand, maybe you can feel it." She took his left hand, the one
without the IV and stood up so that he could place it on her
stomach. She pressed it firmly in place with her own.

It took some concentration, and he had no idea what she was
trying to get him to feel. Finally, he detected something.
"You're hungry," he whispered in a raspy voice.

"No way, Jose. Mom and Skinner have been bringing me
food for hours. I'm not hungry."

He closed his eyes and concentrated harder on the feeling of
her warm stomach against his hand. There, he felt something.
"Then you have gas," he reasoned, a little confused by her
behavior. He was used to having her there when he woke up in
hospitals, but she usually didn't act so strange.

"There, feel that?" she asked excitedly. He seemed confused,
but nodded, then shrugged. "That, you dear man, is your baby
daughter," she said with a loving smile. "I felt her move, Fox.
Just now. When you were waking up. I think she's trying to get
your attention," she added, tears glistening in her eyes.

"I knew there was a reason to live," he said as a single tear
slid down his cheek. "Much better than a video, Scully. Thank
you."

Sawyer County Medical Center
two days later

Mulder was shaking his head fiercely. "That's not what I said,
sir. I didn't say the Indians burned the compound. I said the
*spirits* did." He was emphatic. And he was convinced he was
right.

The Assistant Director of the FBI looked woefully at his
agent. "Well, I'm sorry, Agent Mulder, but I won't accept that in
your report. We've had arson teams go over that compound with
a fine tooth comb. We might not be able to determine the cause,
but it's obvious that John Jacobs followers are likely to want to
torch the place. I mean, after all, their leader is gone, what use
do they have for it?"

Mulder crossed his arms and winced when he hit the bandages
still covering his burns. "Fine. Think what you want. The place
is in ashes and if everybody is smart, they'll leave the place alone
in the future. It's better left undisturbed." He shifted and then
took on a less combative stance. "Did you have any one go look
for Dixie?"

"To be perfectly honest with you, Agent Mulder, we have
been more concerned with rounding up the few remaining 'living'
members of the Yeoman Brotherhood. We did find a mine
entrance, but there was no *body* in the vicinity. Of course, it
might not have been the same mine entrance you were at."

<No matter,> thought Mulder. He had already decided that
he was going to go back and look for her the minute his
doctor/wife let him.

"Speaking of which, what's going to happen to Tenille and
Bob? They saved my life, you know," Mulder said pointedly.

Skinner nodded. "I'm well aware of that fact, Mulder. And
Agent Scully has already made a formal statement to that effect.
I'm sure the judge will take that into consideration when he hears
their cases. The fact that Bob is willing to testify to exactly what
Jacobs was doing in there will go a long way to help his cause. I
see very little jail time for him, none at all for Tenille. For that
matter, I think Bob has plans."

"Plans?" Mulder asked.

"Yeah, career plans from the sound of it. I overheard him
asking questions of the EMT that helped bring you out of the
forest. Apparently, the young man sort of enjoyed all this search
and rescue activity. With his survival knowledge and his natural
abilities, he would be perfect for the job. With the proper
training, of course," Skinner added.

"We wouldn't know of anyone that might help him out on the
score?" Mulder asked, half jokingly. He had been pretty much
out of it, but at one point, when Bob and Tenille had snuck in to
visit, Tenille had mentioned how helpful Agent Thornley had
been to them since they had arrived back at the compound,
finding them shelter and clothing, taking their statements. Even
Bob had seemed grateful for his assistance, quite a step for a
young man who had spent the last several years dispising his
government.

"Spence seems to have taken them under his wing, you're
right on that one," Skinner assured him. He got up to leave,
looking down at the prone young man before him. "Agent Scully
tells me you'll be able to leave here in four or five days. But I've
spoken to your doctor and you're on medical leave for a month
to six weeks. At the rate your going, Mulder, you are going to
have to live to be 100 to make up all your sick days."

"I've figured that out, sir. I've decided that Dana and I are
going to enlist all our kids in the academy and I'll just use their
sick days. They're not going to get banged up as much as I do.
Hopefully they'll have their mother's good sense."

"*All* the kids, Mulder? More than the one I know about?"
Skinner asked.

Mulder grinned a Cheshire Cat grin. "Three of 'em, sir. One
girl, and two boys. And watch out for Sam, the youngest. I
have a feeling he's going to be a handful."

'With one half your genes in him, I have no doubt of that,
Mulder. None at all."

BWI Airport
a week after their rescue

Maggie waved at them as they departed the gangway. They
were moving slowly, in deference to Mulder's pace and the cane
that he was leaning on heavily, but they both looked happy to be
home. Maggie swept them into a hug and kissed them both
before taking Dana's hand and leading them through the airport
to her car. Their luggage had flown out earlier so they avoided
the baggage claim area.

Mulder sighed as he lowered himself into the car seat. He
was still sore, and had been told to take it easy for a while, but he
was feeling better than he had in a long time.

"Are you all right, Fox? Do you need a pillow to support
your back?" Maggie asked him with concern.

"No, thanks, Mom. I'm fine. Now, what was this surprise
you kept talking about all the time you were out with us in
Montana?" he asked, catching Dana's smile in the rearview
mirror.

"Yeah, Mom," Dana chirped in. "You promised to tell us
when we got back. What is it? Bill Jr. and Karen expecting
again?"

Maggie laughed. "No, sweetheart. Nothing like that. Only
one little grandbaby in my immediate future, at least that I know
of . But I would love to show you my surprise, if you are up for
a drive."

Dana put her hand on Mulder's shoulder and he shrugged in
approval. "We're game," Dana said and settled back to enjoy the
scenery.

49th Street, NW, Washington, DC
Just one block from Tenley Circle

Maggie pulled up in front of the two story house. A 'for sale'
sign stood in the yard. Smiling, she ushered the couple up to the
front door and produced a key from her purse. She opened the
door and let them in.

The door led to a hallway, with a staircase leading to the
second floor to the left. To the back, they could see a formal
dining room and into a large, eat-in kitchen. Off to the right,
through a large archway, was the living room complete with a
big bay window that let in the late afternoon sun. Dana walked
through the hall and opened a closet in the dining room. It was
nice and spacious, recently outfitted with a closet organizer unit.
On the opposite wall, between a second archway to the living
room and the hall, was another closet.

"Lots of closet space," she said to Mulder. His eyes twinkled
merrily.

He stepped into the kitchen and opened a door to the left of
the windowed back door. It was a pantry and laundry room.
"Lots and lots of closet space," he shouted back and heard her
laughter ring against the bare walls. It was a wonderful sound.

"Let me show you the upstairs," Maggie said with a huge
grin.

At the top of the stairs was a full bath, done in reds, blacks
and whites. The club footed tub had been renovated to enclose a
shower head. There was a small, built in linen pantry behind the
door.

Turning to the right, and going to the front of the house,
there was a good sized bedroom with windows that looked out
on the front yard and the side. Directly across the hall from the
bathroom was a slightly smaller bedroom with another bay
window, this one with a window seat. To the back of the house
was the master bedroom with a bathroom containing two sinks.
All three bedrooms contained walkin closets.

"I love it," Dana sighed. "Mom, it's perfect. But what are
they asking?"

"I already thought of that, sweetie. I asked the realtor.
They're only asking 2 thousand over your target price and she
thought they might go lower. Seems like the owners are
transferring out of state and need to get this one sold before they
can buy their next home."

"Mulder, what do you think?" Dana asked. When she got no
reply, she looked behind her and saw that he was nowhere in the
room. "Mulder?" she called and searched the top floor, then
through the first floor. Finally, she went out the backdoor and
found him standing on the deck, admiring the roses planted
around it. "Mulder? I asked you what you think of the place. I
mean, it's only 2 over what we were thinking of. Of course, you
wanted 2 and a half baths . . ."

"I'll make an offer when we get back to the apartment,"
Mulder said confidently.

"Are you sure? Don't you think we ought to look around a
little first?" Dana asked, now not quite so sure she liked the look
in his eyes. It was like he knew something she didn't and that
bothered her.

"Nah, I'm done looking," he said cryptically. "The only thing
this place needs is a swing set." And with one glance at the
sycamore and the oak trees, he took his wife into a hug and
kissed her deeply. "It's just what I've always wanted," he sighed
when he released her. All Dana could do was smile.

The Montana Forest,
three weeks later

Dana rubbed her back and stretched. It was a beautiful
summer day, and she finally had a chance to view the area they
had been in just over a month before without the terror of that
moment clouding her vision. Mulder had made his usual rapid
recovery, which was good, considering that they would be
moving to the new house immediately upon their return from
Montana.

Logically, Dana knew that they probably would never find
Dixie's body. It had been six weeks since the murder and in the
wilds of Montana, any number of scavangers would have already
disposed of the old woman's body. The searchers had personally
assured both Mulder and her that they had found no trace of a
body near any mine entrance. All of these facts did nothing to
deter her husband from making the long journey to give his
'guardian angel' as he now called her, a proper funeral.

They had made the majority of the journey on ATV's, but the
last mile they had decided to walk, so that they didn't miss any
clues. Finally, Dana recognized the mine entrance and soon
found the boulder that Jacobs and thrown Dixie against. She
shut her eyes tight against the painful memories.

** None of that, child** a soft, sweet voice whispered in her
mind. **I'm happy, Dana. Make no mistake of that. I'm happy
and I'm at peace.**

Dana opened her eyes and smiled at the image of Dixie that
swam before her tear filled eyes. Then, in a blink, she saw them.

"Mulder. Look. Over there by the boulder." Moving
quickly, she got to the boulder almost before he had a chance to
see where she was pointing. She knelt down and reached out to
cup a small white flower in her hands. The tears were flowing
freely now, but she had a smile on her face.

"Lady slippers," Mulder said softly, kneeling beside his wife.
"You know the legend?" he asked, putting his arm around her
shoulder.

"Every Girl Scout knows that legend, Fox," she smiled at him.
"The Indian maiden who was so beloved of her tribe, but got sick
and died on the trail. They couldn't give her a proper burial, so
they vowed to return as soon as the winter broke. When they
came back in the spring, they didn't find the body. Just these
little white flowers, that looked like the slippers she wore on her
feet." She let a quiet sob escape her lips.

"Dixie was truly a 'lady'," Mulder said softly. "I never got the
chance to thank her for taking care of me."

Dana pulled him into an embrace, and felt his own tears wet
against her shoulder. "She knows, Fox. She knows. And she's
happy now. She's with Jeremiah."

He pulled back a little and wiped the tears from her cheeks,
but they were quickly replaced. He nodded, not having any
words, just expressing his agreement with his eyes. Together
they cried, sad for their loss, but happy that Dixie was where she
wanted to be.

the end.

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