Crossroads in Time (3/3) by Avalon

See Headers in Part One

Time had slipped by so quickly before he returned to her 
life.  Now, as she waited for him to regain consciousness, it 
moved as slowly as a dying slug on hot cement.

She sat sometimes alone, and sometimes with Emily, at his 
bedside.  He had grown stronger, and most of the wires and 
tubes keeping him alive had been removed.  The staff 
delivered him to a private room, and Emily brought photos 
in frames to dress up the space.  She had waited that first 
day until Emily had fallen asleep in her chair, and then 
moved to the pictures, her curiosity burning bright and hot.

There were three of them.  Two showed Emily as she 
looked now, one with a boy at a formal dance, and the other 
an obvious school picture taken against a plain blue 
background.  But she gazed at the last one for quite a long 
time.

It was Mulder as she remembered him best, wearing one of 
his infernal gray t-shirts and a pair of straight-legged blue 
jeans.  He crouched on the beach next to a tiny girl in a 
pink print sundress, holding an ice cream cone between 
them.  Both of them sported a smear of chocolate on their 
chins, both were laughing, and the child clutched at his 
arm, trying to pull the treat closer to her.  The _expression 
on her face riveted Dana to the spot.

Emily.  Just like <her> Emily.  Identical to her sister 
Melissa.  

Mulder had found her.  Somewhere in New Mexico.  He 
had adopted her, and she had grown into a beautiful young 
woman.

Her daughter.  Their daughter.  The idea of it sent her mind 
reeling.

But she didn't speak to Emily about it.  She didn't ask any 
more questions about their past, and she didn't pry into 
their private lives.  She locked her emotions away, keeping 
her voice and face as neutral as possible whenever Emily 
came to visit.

But in the night, she cried at his bedside, pleading with God 
to allow her to know the truth.  
 
The days ticked by, one after another, like silent virgins 
walking an uphill path toward a waiting sacrificial volcano.

*****

She shook open the front page of The New York Times and 
scanned through her glasses for something of interest.  She 
had taken to reading the newspaper to him every morning, 
hoping that her voice would somehow lead him to 
consciousness, like the breadcrumb trail for Hansel and 
Gretel.  Emily usually arrived around noon, and she would 
settle at his bedside to eat her lunch and chatter while Dana 
donned her doctor's scrubs for the afternoon shift.  After 
her hours were up, she returned, and Emily went to sleep in 
her office...and then the routine began again.  Thirteen 
days so far.  She wondered often what the magical number 
in this equation would be.

She found an article about the impending election and read 
the first couple of lines to him.  "Senator Hilary Rodham 
Clinton announced yesterday at a Democratic Party dinner 
that there was absolutely no truth to the allegations of 
campaign funding fraud that the Republican Party recently 
leveled at her.  She and her husband, former President Bill 
Clinton, spent the long Labor Day weekend campaigning 
for her re-election."   She smiled slightly.  "Honestly, 
Mulder, you haven't missed much.  Nothing ever seems to 
change."

"Does that mean I should just stay asleep?"

Her head jerked up so violently to follow his whisper that 
she heard an audible snap.  The newspaper fluttered from 
her hands as she scrambled forward, her fingers fumbling 
for his.  The eyes that met hers were a bright green-gold, 
snapping with an amusement that was completely different 
from what she'd expected.  She'd anticipated nothing but 
strained silence from him when he finally woke up, and she 
had steeled herself to receive it.  But although his color had 
not changed, and he still seemed exhausted, his gaze held 
none of the contempt that she had feared.

She blinked back a tear and coughed out a laugh.  Her 
fingers closed around his, and she noted with a leaping 
heart when he squeezed hers back weakly.  She opened her 
mouth to speak, but he was already ahead of her.

"I've been waiting for you to read all morning.  What took 
you so long?"

Her heart was beating fast, as if she had just run a mile, and 
it was difficult to say anything around the clutching 
sensation in her throat, but she forced the words out.  
"You've been playing possum? I should have figured you 
would."

He licked his dry lips.  "After all this time, you still know 
me pretty well, Scully." 

It was not an admonishment, she knew, but her cheeks 
burned with a crimson flush all the same.  She tried to 
sidestep that issue, knowing sooner or later they would 
come to it.  "How are you feeling?"

"Like Rip Van Winkle.  Everything's still the same, but I 
know I've missed something."  

He stared at her, and she tried to read his look, but she was 
out of practice.  The nervousness and excitement in her 
stomach propelled her to her feet.  "I should go and wake 
Emily.  She'll want to see you right away, I know."

He cut off her turn with a clutch of her hand.  "No, wait, 
Scully.  Stay a minute."

"Mulder--"

"Sit down.  We need to talk."  

She reached out her free hand and brushed her fingers 
across his brow, noting the sweat that had broken across his 
forehead.  "We have plenty of time for that.  I don't want 
you getting overly excited.  It's too much too soon for you.  
Let me get Emily.  She'll kill me if she doesn't get to see 
you."

His voice, stronger but edged in emotion, stopped her cold 
a few steps away.  "I know you're wondering, Scully."  

She didn't face him. "Don't, Mulder --"  The breaking note 
was bright and sharp in her tone.

"She is your daughter, Scully."  

She put out her hand to catch herself on the side rail of the 
bed.  Damn him, she thought hotly as the tears spilled down 
her cheeks.  Always so goddamned relentless, he never 
could stop when he should...

Her hitching breath cut off her thoughts, the sobs pouring 
forth like an unexpected thunderstorm.  In her peripheral 
vision, she saw him jerk forward, even though she knew he 
was weak and incapable of offering her any physical help. 
Somehow, their hands touched, and his fingers laced 
through hers, pulling her toward him.  She let herself go, 
finding her head once again resting in the hollow of his 
shoulder where it met his chest.  Beneath her cheek, his 
hospital gown dampened from her onslaught, but the dim 
sound of his heart beating seemed to soothe her.

"I found her in 2000, in a research facility in New Mexico.  
She looked so much like...like your Emily that I took her 
back to Washington with me.  I had a doctor the Gunmen 
trusted run her PCRs, just like you did with your Emily in 
San Diego."  He paused, and his low voice fell to a 
whisper.  "They matched, Scully.  They matched yours, and 
they matched Emily's.  I think they were born at the same 
time, possibly even twins...but it's the damnedest thing, 
Scully.  She's never been sick a day in her life.  Whatever 
was wrong with your Emily...there's nothing wrong with 
her.  She's perfectly healthy."   She opened her eyes, and 
the look of gentle love that graced his mangled features 
speared her soul.  "She's strong, Scully.  Like mother, like 
daughter."

"I didn't dare to hope when I saw the pictures she brought, 
Mulder.  It just seemed too much like a fairy tale.  I thought 
maybe she was...Diana's daughter."

He grimaced.  "No.  Diana's been dead for a long time."

She could see pain on his face, a signal to tread lightly.  
"I'm sorry, Mulder.  What happened?"

He swallowed and licked his lips again.  "You were right 
not to trust her, Scully.  I should have never let her back 
into my life.  She was...sent...to keep me distracted.  It 
worked for a while."  He smiled wanly.  "She gave me the 
tip about the facility in New Mexico.  Apparently the 
Consortium wanted Emily for some reason.  But she must 
have had a change of heart, and she somehow thwarted 
their plans.  I think they killed her for that."  He sighed.  
"But before then, I knew she was working against me, and 
we had split up.  After she was murdered, it was just Emily 
and me"

"You kept her safe."

"I never understood it, Scully.  I still don't.  They never 
tried to touch her after that.  Perhaps she wasn't what they 
thought she was."

A hint of a smile tugged at her lips.  "She's a beautiful 
young woman, Mulder.  You did a good job.  You're a 
good dad."

"Except when I get myself abducted by aliens."  His voice 
was nothing more than a croak now, and she straightened 
up, still keeping her hand in his.

"You need to rest."  She hesitated for a mere second and 
then pressed a brief kiss to his hairline.  "I'll be back later, 
and we can talk more."

He nodded and allowed her to slip out of the room as he 
closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.  But she lingered in 
the corridor, watching from the tiny square window as the 
sun slanted its rays across the new morning, afraid to let 
him out of her sight, afraid to lose any more precious time.

*****

"Did she make it OK?"  He sat in the chair next to the 
window, his back straight beneath his colorless bathrobe.  
His hair was combed from his forehead in a wave, 
reminding her of the way he used to wear it when they first 
met.  Clean-shaven and sweet-smelling, she was pleased to 
see he was able to do more and more for himself every day.   
She slapped the morning edition of the Times next to his 
ravaged breakfast tray and smiled.

"You mean, aside from the fact that she's terribly 
disappointed you're not with her?"  His lips curled into a 
grin, and she noted the healthy pink beneath the fading 
scars on his cheeks.  "She's on her plane, heading back to 
Washington.  And really, you shouldn't be far behind her."

She crossed and sat in the chair opposite him.  He pushed 
the rolling bed table from between them and looked at her.  
He was waiting, she knew, for something, and she wasn't 
entirely sure what it was he expected.  But she knew what 
she needed to say.

"You're recovering very well, Mulder.  Another week, 
maybe less, and you can go home."  She kept her tone as 
light as possible, even though the weight of that reality was 
heavy in her heart.  "You always were a fast healer."

"I always had a good doctor.  I still do."  Her smile 
widened and she looked away quickly.  He continued, his 
next words extraordinary and unexpected.  "I'm glad you 
were able to practice, Scully.  I know you've helped a lot of 
people over the years with your work."

It was time.  The moment had come, and she couldn't back 
away from it.  They hadn't spoken of anything from the 
past besides hints and fleeting comments about old times.  
He had opened up the door now, and she knew he was 
waiting to follow her through it. 

"I've thought a great deal about that decision, Mulder.  The 
choice I made that Friday after we came back from Dallas."  
She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.  "I'm 
sorry if I hurt you.  I didn't mean to leave you that way.  I 
never imagined I wouldn't see you after that day."

His face softened.  "Scully, it was my decision, too.  My 
choice.  I've relived that moment more times than I can 
count.  I could have gone after you, tried to convince you to 
stay...I could have returned your calls.  I could have gone 
back to the F.B.I., tried to get the X-Files back--"

This surprised her.  "But I thought...I thought you and 
Diana were at the Bureau, working on the X-Files 
together..."

"No."  He shook his head.  "I never went back.  I still 
searched on my own, following an occasional lead from 
Skinner or the Gunmen.  But it just wasn't the same."  His 
gaze penetrated to the depths of her.  "Not without you."

"But your sister...your quest for the truth..."

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and in that instant, 
she understood.  "Oh, Mulder.  I'm so sorry."

"I'm not, Scully.  I wouldn't have wanted her to live a life 
of lies and pain."  He collected himself swiftly.  "But I 
don't think we can know.  I mean, how many different lives 
would we be leading if we made different choices?  We 
don't know."

"What if there was only one choice?  And all the other ones 
were wrong?  And there were signs along the way to pay 
attention to..."  Her voice trailed off as she realized she had 
finally asked the one question that her mind had turned 
over for twelve long years, like a pirate contemplating a 
glittering bauble buried in the sand.  

She wondered now if she had discovered a treasure or a 
curse.

Mulder hummed deep in his throat, obviously tumbling the 
idea through the passages of his own mind.  "And what if 
you missed some of the signs along the way?"

"Exactly."

He sat forward in his chair, and she felt his fingers brush 
hers.  Her hand opened reflexively, seeking the heat and the 
pressure of his touch, and she tucked hers inside of his 
gentle fist.  "Then I think, Scully, you have to recognize 
that maybe the lessons that don't get learned are presented 
in another way.  Maybe you come to the crossroads again, 
and you get another chance to choose a different path."

His comment struck her hard, and shaking, she squeezed 
his hand.  The words that she spoke shook, too.  "I...I want 
to make the right choice this time, Mulder."

"I do, too."  His eyes glittered wet green.  "I'm sorry, 
Scully, for not telling you about Emily.  But when I found 
her, you were already married, and...I didn't know how we 
could fit into your life.  If you would want us to fit in.  You 
had what I thought you always wanted, and I couldn't upset 
that."  The tears that threatened finally spilled from him, 
breaking his voice as well.  "And she was so much like 
you, Scully, I couldn't bear to give her up.  She was all of 
you that I had left."

She pulled him closer, her arms around his neck, and they 
cried softly together.  The moments slipped by as their 
emotions drained through them, countless fears and the 
unearthly burden of lost love washing out of them both.  
When her heaving chest finally slowed and the tears 
stopped flowing, she realized that she felt lighter than she 
could ever remember feeling.    

Finally she moved back, pressing her forehead against his.  
"Mulder," she began, choosing her words carefully.  "You 
are Emily's father.  Nothing will ever change that fact.  But 
I--I would like to be a part of her life, somehow, if you 
will allow me to be."

He lifted his head and peered at her.  He didn't speak for a 
few moments, and her mind panicked, suddenly afraid that 
she had misjudged his intentions.  "I have one condition, 
Scully."

She gave a slow bob of her head to ask him to continue, not 
trusting her voice.

"That you be a part of my life, too."

Still not sure she could speak, she gave him the only 
answer she could.  She kissed him softly, her lips hesitating 
slightly over his.  He responded immediately, and as the 
moment spun out between them, she felt the dawn of a new 
day in the gray space of her heart.

*****

The time on the courthouse clock read half past four, and 
she adjusted the straps on her heels one more time.  He was 
late, but it was raining in torrents, and the traffic was 
atrocious.  

She didn't mind waiting.  After all this time, it didn't seem 
like much of a burden.

The door to the office banged open, and he strode in, 
soaking wet from head to foot.  His dark hair stuck up from 
his head in tufts like overgrown grass, and she laughed, 
rising to meet him.  He gestured helplessly at her, and she 
slowed him with a hand on his arm.

"It's fine, don't worry.  They're behind, too."

He huffed out an impatient breath and stilled as she 
smoothed his hair and blotted his face with a tissue from 
her handbag.  "It's raining like a son of a bitch," he said, as 
if her powers of observation had left her.

"I know, Mulder."  She raised herself on tiptoes and kissed 
him, and she felt the tension drain from his body as he 
melted into her.  When their lips parted, she smiled at him.  
"Isn't it a beautiful day?"

It rained on her wedding day, again.  She couldn't have 
cared less.


***End***

AUTHOR'S NOTES:  I started this story so long ago that I 
completely forgot it existed.  I ended up sending out the 
snippet I had to the I Want to Believe List to see if anyone
recognized it.  We finally determined that it was mine, and 
something stirred me to finish it.  But I have to give the most
credit for this story actually being written to the support 
and encouragement of sallie.  If it hadn't been for her, I would
never have finished it.  Thanks, doll, for your unwavering 
enthusiasm and your quick, fantastic beta.  This one truly is 
just for you.

Also, special thanks to Jenna, who made a lovely mix CD of MSR 
songs for some of us IWTBers.  The song "Crossroads" by Don 
McLean was on there, and while I was finishing up this story,
I realized how appropriate that song was to this piece.  It also 
inspired me with the title, so here are the words:

"Crossroads" by Don McLean

I've got nothing on my mind, nothing to remember,
Nothing to forget, and I've got nothing to regret.
But I'm all tied up on the inside,
No one knows quite what I've got,
And I know that on the outside,
What I used to be, I'm not, anymore.

You know, I've heard about people like me,
But I never made the connection.
They walk one road to set them free
And find they've gone the wrong direction.
But there's no need for turning back
Cause all roads lead to where I stand,
And I believe I walk them all
No matter what I may have planned.

Can you remember who I was?
Can you still feel it?
Can you find my pain?
Can you heal it?
Then lay your hands upon me now
And cast this darkness from my soul.
You alone can light my way,
You alone can make me whole once again.

We've walked both sides of every street
Through all kinds of windy weather.
But that was never our defeat
As long as we could walk together.
So there's no need for turning back
Cause all roads lead to where we stand,
And I believe we walk them all
No matter what we may have planned.


Thanks for reading.  Although I haven't been
writing as much recently, perhaps I will see you
again.  And I'd love to hear what you think:
avalon@fuse.net.  Blessings!