Rating: PG

Summary: Frohike nervous breakdowns. Go Martha.

Spoilers: Bunches of them, from eps with Gunmen in them. And also from Martha's "Visiting Hours Are Now Over."
 

MICHAEL:

Dad doesn't say anything. Maybe he doesn't even believe me. But I'm not letting him go till he does.

I just hold him for a while, and I'm wondering if he's okay.

I don't know what's going through his mind, he's so quiet. So I look down at him.

He's crying.

Oh God. I'm killing my own father.
 

MELVIN, HAVING NOT ONLY LOST HIS MIND, BUT IN THE PROCESS OF A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN:

I've waited so long for him to say it.

I'd actually begun to believe he never would.

And he finally said it. And at the oddest of times, right after I read him the riot act...

And I know he means it.

What scares me is, not just how much he needs me, but how much I need him.

I haven't been this terrified since in country.
 

MICHAEL:

I finally let go of Dad, but I sit myself down near his feet. I want to be near him right now and let him know that yeah, I have someone special, but he's still special, too.

I got to stop being such an asshole to him.

He ruffles up my hair.

"You're a good boy, Michael."

Well, okay, I'm not quite a little kid anymore, but I take compliments anywhere I can get them.

Jo's back down. She's reeking of nicotine, but hey, she only smokes in her room, it's her business.

"My turn to cook," she says to Dad.

Jo's food is a little bland, but it's good enough and filling. And I'm so famished right now...the air here makes you so hungry.

"I'm sure it will be delicious," Dad tells her.

Kelly's down, her hair's in a ponytail and she's dressed in a pink sweater, which looks real good on her. It's tight, like her jeans.

She is the best thing on the menu here.

"Come sit down, sweetheart," Dad tells her, and I cringe-wish he wouldn't call her that, she probably hates it after years of waiting on tables for rednecks, but she stays cool and comes and sits by me, which means she's not that far away from here.

It's a glorious night. The sun has sunk, and the sky's taking on all these amazing colors. And it's not cloudy, maybe we can see stars tonight.

"This place is so beautiful, I almost hate to go back to Virginia," Kelly says to Dad.

God, Virginia seems like a million miles away right now.

"Thanks for letting me come, Mr. Frohike."

He smiles a little at her. "You're welcome, dear."

If she doesn't like my dad's terms of endearment, she doesn't show it. Thank God.

"Kelly, I could use some help," Jo tells her.

"Sure, but I don't know how to really cook. Just soup and grilled cheese." Kelly looks kind of embarrassed. "Funny, having worked in a diner, too. But you don't really cook there. You just sort of toss, turn, flip and burn."

Jo looks sort of amused. "Well, it's time you learned. And let me tell you, doctors have the worst eating habits in the world, so it's a good thing to know how to make things for yourself. I know residents that existed for years on whatever was in the vending machines. In the hospital where I trained, the breakfast of champions was Snickers bars and Pepsi."

Kelly makes a face. "Even I'm not hard-core enough to do that." We all laugh.

"Yeah, you hate Pepsi," I tease her.

"Sorry. Grew up on Classic Coke," she's laughing. "Thank God the vending machines at school stock Coca-Cola products, or I'd be in real trouble."

"My family, too," Jo says, nodding. "Cocaholics, all of them, myself included."

"Diet Coke is not Coke," my dad protests, because that's what Jo drinks.

"I'll concede it's not, but at my age, well, you cut it anywhere you can," she grins at us.

"Sounds like your life was happy when you were young," Kelly says to Jo.

Jo smiles. "It was. It was a very normal life. I enjoyed it. Well, I thought it was normal, anyway. My father was a police officer in Baltimore, my mother took care of us, and I went to Catholic school like almost everybody else in my neighborhood. I wanted to do something, and I chose nursing school-there were very few options open to girls at that time. I figured I'd eventually meet someone, get married, have children, and live like my parents did."

"So what happened?" Kelly asks. "I mean, it was a lot different than you thought it would be, wasn't it?"

Jo's smiling. I'm not sure why. "You have to understand, I come from a very conservative background-I think this is very obvious. Much of the 60s passed me by. In fact, when I finished nursing school, I found myself so angered by the antiwar protests, the things I regarded as sheer silliness going on in universities all over, the disrespect being shown our soldiers-and I'd grown up in a law and order, very pro-American family, so you need to understand my perspective for this to make sense to you-and I made the decision to join the Army and go to Vietnam."

Kelly looks up at her with admiration. I'm not so sure I admire Jo's politics, I don't think I would have at the time, but I don't know. And anyway, this is interesting.

"I thought, how dare people talk of the war when they know nothing of it? When they're not the ones over there doing the job? It made me angry. My older brother was there, and I decided I'd go, too."

Dad's gotten up, I didn't even notice, but he comes back in a couple minutes with beers for him, Jo and me, and a Clearly Canadian for Kelly.

"I remember when I landed, thinking, I've never seen any place so green. Or so hot! I remember my shirt sticking to my back-we traveled in uniform, of course-and trying to walk on soft ground in heels!" This seems to amuse her. "It's a beautiful country."

I guess I never thought of Vietnam that way.

"Keep in mind, except for vacations at Outer Banks, I'd never been away from Baltimore. So this was very exotic for me. I was very excited at the idea that I was going to do nursing in a faraway place and I'd be able to help people. I was so very young then."

She's not smiling anymore.

Kelly looks up at her. "And then?"

"And then...oh sweet Jesus. My first patient. A child. Younger than you, Kelly. He was loaded with shrapnel...he was delirious. Kept asking for his mother. I thought, what have you gotten yourself into, Joanna Mary Kathleen Gilfillan?"

Dad is not looking too good right now. I think he'd rather she didn't talk about this. He's giving her this look like, please stop.

She looks him dead on in the eyes, and she's like, I'll say what I need to. Not mean or anything, but she's talking to us, and she thinks he probably should too.

I lean myself up against my dad's legs. Maybe he'll know I'm there and it'll make him feel better.

Oh Jesus fuck. He's shaking. I can tell.

Maybe she'd better call it off.

I lean up harder against him, and he seems a little better. Kelly looks at me, like she's getting worried, but I just mouth to her that he'll be okay.

Oh God I hope he will.

Jo gets up from her chair, asks Kelly to come along with her. I wonder if Jo really needs the hel or if she just thinks Dad and me should spend the time together.

I would like to hear Jo's story, but she and Kelly go inside. I can hear muted voices from the kitchen. I'm sort of wondering how they both fit in there-it's so small.

I take one of Dad's hands. Sweating like it was the middle of summer, not a cooling evening on the Carolina coast.

And he grabs on to mine like it's a life raft.

My dad, who I always think of as the bravest guy in the world, is scared half to death.

I wish I knew of what.

But if I ask him, it may really blow his mind. He's a mess right now.

"You okay?" I ask him, knowing full well what he'll say.

"I'm fine."

Sure you are, Dad. You're shaking and sweating like you can't figure out if you're hot or cold.

So I lean up against him and take each of his hands in mine, I'm sitting against his legs, and it takes a long time, but by the time the sky is dark, he's calmer. He's not sweating so much, and he's stopped pretty much shaking.

Maybe he'll figure out he could lean on me sometimes, too.

I mean, I'm not a baby anymore.
 

By the time dinner's served, Dad's in better shape. He's even sort of funny during dinner. We start talking about cell phones. Jo swears by hers. My dad absolutely refuses to carry one. Kelly and I can't afford them.

Dad's talking about how Mulder's always losing his phones, and his guns, and his housekeys, and his mind...and he's had a few beers now and he's getting to be amusing. I like him when he's like this. I get to hear stories about how Langly wouldn't go to a meeting one time because he refused to have an image of himself bounced off a satellite, about how Byers defaced a twenty trying to convince her of what the government was really up to, about the time they all had to go skating because there was this tape that they had to get and it was stowed in a locker at the skating rink and how Langly almost killed himself and everyone else there...Dad admits he wasn't too good on the ice, but unlike Langly, he wasn't trying to be macho about it, either...about the time Scully came up with Mulder but it wasn't Mulder, and they interrupted a perfectly good breakfast that Dad was cooking...and trying to save Mulder's ass in the Bermuda triangle...and about the time
they sneaked Mulder out of the hospital by putting him in Byers's clothes and stuffing Byers in Mulder's bed...

"How'd you get him out?" Kelly wonders.

"We stole some scrubs and somebody's ID tag and smuggled him out," Dad's laughing. "It wasn't very funny at the time...no, I take that back. It was hilarious."

I think the concept of the prof doing a striptease in front of the guys is pretty hilarious myself. I'll have to get Langly's version-if I know Langly, he won't skip the graphics.

It's good to see Dad laugh. He doesn't do it enough.

And I try to make sure I hug him, a lot, tonight.

He's getting pretty lit, but not so drunk that he forgets it's time for Bewitched.

"I remember all these shows," Jo says. She's not getting drunk, but she's had like three beers, which is more than I ever see her have. "My dad liked 'I Dream of Jeannie.'"

"Ah, Barbara Eden. Now that was one hot woman," my dad agrees. "Ever notice that in the old shows, the women look like real women, not like these stick figures they do now?"

This is true...most of these women have real curves on them.

Just like my girl has now. She bitches that she feels fat, but no way is she fat. Just juicy.

Dad's on the sofa, got his feet propped on the coffee table. Jo's at the other end of the sofa, sitting on her feet, and Kelly and me are on the floor, lying on our stomachs, I've got my arm wrapped around her waist.

God, we could be any typical suburban family to an onlooker right now.

The idea of this cracks me up.

Bewitched is okay, but the one I like is Get Smart. Now that's comedy. I'm cracking up over the absurdity of it all. The Cone of Silence is great. Great lines like, fill these out in triplicate and burn all three copies.

Sounds like government work to me.

After Get Smart is over, Jo says she's going upstairs, she started a book today and she's getting into it.

"Is it any good?" Kelly asks her.

Jo smiles, big and wicked. "Total trash. No redeeming values whatsoever. The perfect vacation book."

It's real funny to see Jo acting like such a kid. I never see her smile this much when she's around home.

Kelly turns to me after Jo leaves. She's blushing.

"I brought a book with me...but not one of my textbooks."

"What'd you bring?"

Now she's real red. "Uh...I borrowed 'The World is Full of Married Men' from Ally. Jackie Collins. She assured me it was crap."

I laugh. "Hey, I borrow Ally's Jackie Collins novels from her. It's one of her guilty pleasures. She loves 'em. And by the way, 'Married Men' is way more fun than 'The World is Full of Divorced Women.' I borrowed that one from her, too. Not that the plots are much different. She writes the same book over and over, just changes the names and stuff, but it's like, it all comes down to sex. I mean, that's what my dad says about her books."

"He reads them, too?"

"Dad? Anything. He'll read anything. Literature, history, cookbooks, and crap. He doesn't care. He'll read it."

"He's really smart," Kelly says, and you can tell she admires him a lot. "But sometimes he just...he scares me a little. Sometimes he's so nice, other times I swear he's going to bite me."

"Yeah, I get mad at him, but you know what? He's a big pussycat. He really is."

And speaking of pussycats...well, he's sleeping like one. He ought to be. He had like two sixes of beer, meaning, he's toast right now.

I look at Kelly, and she looks at me, and our eyes lock up. I think we're thinking the same thing.

Then we shake our heads. "Nah, we better not. Let's see if we can get 'em out of the house again. That'd be major."

She looks kind of disappointed. "I wish I wasn't such a wimp...I wanted to do it so bad with you today, Michael. But I got scared on the rocks...I
don't know. It was stupid. Probably nobody saw us."

"Hey, it's cool." And it is. I'm playing with a strand of her hair. In the dim light of the TV, it's glowing gold instead of its normal ashy color.

She looks at me, and God, there is like something amazing in her face.

Is this what love looks like?

"Well, we'd probably best not push the envelope," I say real softly to her, just in case my dad isn't as out of it as we think he is, "but how about just a little bit of fooling around?"

"I'd like that."

We take off our shoes and try to pad up the stairs as quietly as we can.
 

It's nippy in her room. We pile the blankets over us and cuddle up together.

It's so warm in her arms. I don't want to get up. Ever.

I feel so damn vulnerable and yet so safe here. It's the weirdest feeling.

But nice.

And we're still all dressed, but she rolls on top of me, and I pull her near to me, and we kiss.

Oh don't make me get up. Please...

I finally reach the point where it's like, if I don't go downstairs NOW, I'm gonna have to follow through...and that could be hazardous to our health here.

"I love you," I whisper to Kelly. We share a long kiss goodnight, and finally, I wrap myself in one of the blankets and head back downstairs.

God, I wanted to stay with her so much...just to be next to her, piled under all the covers, feel her skin against mine...

And I'm barefoot, and God, this floor gets cold!
 

I throw my sweats on, brush my teeth, pop out my lenses, get my glasses so when I wake up I'm not totally blind. I grab the blankets and pillows off the chair and start making up my bed.

The only light on in here is real low, and I'm trying to be quiet so I don't disturb my dad. For once I succeed.

But all of a sudden, I hear this horrible pained wail, like somebody stepped on a cat.

Jesus Christ, it's my dad!

And again, he's got the shakes and he's sweating like he's in the middle of the jungle.

Jo says he has nightmares, and it sure as hell looks like he's having one now.

I never knew this about him. Shit. I think about getting Jo, but I don't wanna leave him alone.

It takes me a few minutes to get him to come to, to realize it's me. I keep telling him over and over, hey, it's me, it's Michael, your little guy, c'mon. I say this over and over and over, like a mantra.

He's finally got his eyes open, but he still looks like somebody's got a gun trained on him. I straighten his glasses up so he can see it's me. And he can't stop shaking. I grab one of the blankets and wrap it around him.

Oh God the last time I saw him this bad he was having a heart attack...please don't let him be having another one pleasepleaseplease...

Even in the low light, Dad, who's a real brunette and normally's got good color, looks like he's about the color of milk. He can barely breathe.

"Dad...should I get Jo?" I ask him, very quietly.

He's trying to speak, but nothing's coming out of his mouth. Oh God no...this can't be happening...he can't be having another heart attack...oh God no...

I just come and sit right next to him and hold him hard. I keep telling him, Dad it's okay, it's okay, I'm here, it's okay, over and over, like he tells me when I'm sick.

Finally, he doesn't still say anything, but he grabs me and just holds on to me like he's gonna drown if he lets go. He's clutching me so hard I think he's gonna break one of my ribs, but I don't dare let him go.

"It's okay, it's okay," I just keep muttering these useless words over and over to him, hoping he'll know it's me, and nothing can happen here.

What did happen to him? Oh my God.

In the still room, all I can hear is the pound of the surf outside and the pounding of Dad's heart, which has probably gone off the charts. Now I'm scared, but just about when I'm ready to scream for Jo, he can speak.

"It's all right, it's all right."

Hey, I'm not the one having the nightmare...but he could give me one with tricks like this.

I move back from him a little, but I don't let go. "Jesus, Dad. What the hell happened?"

"Just...a bad dream. That's all."

"Hell of a bad dream."

"It's fine now."

Oh yeah right. He's just about soaked and his heart's still going a mile a minute and he only got verbal about thirty seconds ago, but he's fine.

Not.

"You don't think you had another heart attack."

He shakes his head real hard. "No, no."

"Just making sure. You can't go checking out on me like that." I try to laugh, but I mean it.

He can't check out on me. I need him.

He's my dad.

"So you wanna talk about it?"

He just shakes his head, no way.

Okay, whatever. What else would you get from Dad?

"You want me to get Jo? Make sure you're okay?"

"No."

So I just keep my arm around him, and he holds on to me. If that's what he needs right now, that's what I'll give him.

"Dad...do you dream about stuff that happened to you in 'Nam?"

He looks at me, and there's this look of fear and anger and sadness all jumbled up on his face.

That look says it all. He dreams about it, all right.

And it's not one of his wet dreams from the video collection.

Not that I'd want to be around for that, but at least he wouldn't be freaking out all over the place.

He still looks pretty freaked to me. I'm not letting him go.

Not that I have much choice, because he's got me in a death grip.

Hey, it's about time I did something for him. He does everything for me.

Time to give back.

I mean, I am an adult, after all.
 

March 31, 2001

I end up falling asleep with my head on Dad's shoulder. He must've eventually dozed off, because when I wake up-with a crick in my neck-he's snoring. He's still kind of restless, but when I move, he doesn't wake up.

Got to talk to Jo. She can help. I think.

She's not down yet, though. She should be soon-her morning to make breakfast. Then Dad makes dinner tonight.

I flip on the cartoons, watch Robocop for a few, then head upstairs to duck into the shower. Might as well get as much hot water as I can while everybody's asleep.

Before I go up, I take Dad's glasses off his face. He fell asleep with them on. He doesn't wake up. Thank God. I doubt he got any decent sleep out of this.

First I peek in Kelly's room. She looks like a little angel, sound asleep there, fist in her mouth.

I can't help it. I've got to go kiss her.

And I do, and she yawns a little and kisses me back, real sleepy, and I tell her I'm gonna take a shower, but I'll be out soon, and I'll come back in. She smiles a little, burrows down in the blankets, and heads back to dreamland.

And yep, I'm gonna have to keep the water cool.
 

Jo's down when I get out. I forgot to bring my clothes up with me, so I'm wandering around and shivering in just a towel, but if she thinks it's weird, she doesn't show it. She just says good morning, she's got coffee working, thank God.

If it was just me and Kelly, I might be tempted to forego the clothes, but this is Jo, and it is chilly, so I get dressed.

"You sleep well?" She asks me as she pours me some coffee.

"Uh...well, not really."

Her eyebrows come together in a frown, first one I've seen on this trip. "Something wrong?"

"Uh...well...it's Dad."

"Oh, dear. Did you two argue?"

"No, no, nothing like that. He had...you know, a nightmare."

"Oh, dear." She shakes her head. "I know how that goes."

"You get them?"

"Sometimes. Not too often anymore. But for years, I was afraid to fall asleep because of what I might dream."

"Seriously."

"I think it was one of the reasons I had to quit nursing. Every time I'd treat someone, I'd go back and hook into something, and I'd come home and I wouldn't let myself go to sleep. I was a basket case. It was a terrible time."

"Did you know Dad in 'Nam?"

She shakes her head no. "He hasn't told you anything, has he?"

"Uh-uh."

"No, he was at Khe Sanh, I was stationed at Bien Hoa. I was in a medical unit. He was radio and communications." She looks at me. "Michael, I could repeat his experiences second hand to you...but I've been telling him for a while now that he needs to tell you himself. So I won't do his story injustice by telling you."

"How come he never tells me?"

"Well, he says it's because he doesn't think you need to know, or you're too young...but you do need to know, and you're a grown man now."

Do I? Am I?

She serves me some fruit and bagels, and pours herself more coffee. "I think Melvin and I are going for a nice long walk this morning."

END OF PART 82