Insomnis
LANGLY:
I don't think I like where this conversation is going.
I mean, I come to ask him what to do about breaking the bad news to Patrick. Which, by the way, I got no practice in. I'm not used to talking to three-year-olds anyway, and I'm especially not used to giving them the headlines.
And I don't like that he thinks-well, like this kid is supposed to satisfy some need for me...
Yeah, well, maybe.
What about him? I mean, why are my motives more suspect?
I think I'm rattled and overly paranoid right now. I mean, Susanne used to say, no matter how paranoid you are, you aren't paranoid enough, but right now I think my brain is working overtime. Mulder's not putting me up against a wall here, and it takes me a few minutes to realize it.
He can be damn hard to read sometimes. But he also can be real helpful when you need him to be.
I need him to be right now.
"How old is this child?" Mulder asks quietly. We're then interrupted by a bang on the door, the sound of a little foot kicking on it.
"Daddy!" It's Becca, screaming to be let in.
"In a little while, princess," he calls out gently to her. I gotta hand it to him. All the times I've seen Mulder with the rugrats, and sometimes they're really awful-I never seen him get mad at them. He's just like way cool with them.
"Now!" She's as bad as he is.
"No, not now. Later. I'm talking to Uncle Langly."
"Want in!"
"No. Not now." He opens the door, picks up the little beauty, kisses her on the cheek, and tells her to go bug Mommy. She's not thrilled about this, but she stomps off on her little baby feet, she has that funny walk little kids have.
"Don't they ever annoy the hell out of you?" I'm just curious.
Mulder throws back his head and laughs for about what seems like five minutes. "All the time. They're kids. They're supposed to aggravate us. You didn't know that?"
"So how do you not get mad at 'em-I mean, I'm kinda scared of all this...sometimes I get real mad at Miranda, and this kid...I think I've been ready to choke him about fifty times this week..."
"They you're normal," Mulder's still laughing. "Okay, that's a stretch-let's just say that that's pretty typical if you've got kids."
"You never get mad at yours."
"Hey, I do, too. It's just-I don't know. My parents-they were so cold, so rigid...I try to remember, they're just kids. And I'm not perfect at it, believe me."
"Lot more perfect than most of us."
"Hey, Langly, we just do the best we can, that's all. Thought you wanted kids."
"I did. I do. I was real bummed when I found out we weren't gonna have 'em. I mean, Miranda's cool...but Miranda's almost like this adult practically. I mean, sometimes it's tense, but mostly, you just tell her stuff."
"So why should it be different with a younger child?"
"I dunno...it's like, I think when you're small, you need your parents more, and like he doesn't have his now, either of 'em...I don't think he remembers his mom, so it's not like he ever talks about her and stuff, but he's a little older now, he always is happy when Scott calls him and talks to him, and now..."
Mulder smiles. "It's been a while since I had developmental psych...but I'm getting a little hands on practice right now. You say this child is three?"
"Almost four."
"Okay. The concept of 'never again' is going to elude him for a while."
"Meaning, if I tell him his dad's gone for good, he won't get it."
"Probably not at first. He'll probably keep asking you for a while. Eventually, it will sink in. You need to let him know that his dad didn't bail out on him because of him, though. Kids blame themselves for that kind of thing. They don't differentiate between themselves and the world around them. Not at that age."
"So I should tell him anyway."
"You don't have to give him the gory details. Surely he knows his father was sick, that there was something wrong?"
"Hard to say. Scott says he's been sick for a while...it's like, I dunno...Scott really loved the kid, but sometimes I think he's kind of limited in how he can take care of people..."
"Child's not been abused, has he?"
"No, no, nothing like that. He's just...I think Scott lets him run wild. Let him run wild." I'm still not working in the past tense. "He's a brat."
"Then you two should get along fine."
"Thank you, Mulder, I needed that. Seriously, I haven't got a clue..."
"And you didn't have a clue with Miranda. But you guys are okay, least from what I can tell."
"Most of the time. We fight."
"Not unusual with a teenager."
"I still don't have a clue with her."
"So what makes you different from any of us with kids? Let me ask you this: Did you think it would be different with a biological child?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"I'm sorry, that's not the answer we're looking for. You just lost the final round of Jeopardy!" He's cracking up. He loves Jeopardy. "And how much did you wager?"
Personally, I think Alex Trebek looks slimy. But for Mulder, that probably works.
"Langly, do you think Scully and I have the vaguest idea half the time what we're doing here? All we know is, we love these kids, we try to see them as they are, and we do what we can. What else can anyone do?"
"I dunno. It's just...hard."
"I'm sorry, that'd be the correct answer, except you didn't phrase it in the form of a question!"
Don't ever let Mulder get started on the Jeopardy thing. He won't let go. I groan.
"You've got no idea who got your brother?"
"Nope."
"Nobody saw anything?"
"Nope."
"Want me to check it out?"
"Yeah...that'd be good..." Maybe.
"One more question...how's it going to affect you if you find out you have no genetic relationship to this child?"
I have no clue. "Don't suppose it matters. It's a kid. Needs taking care of."
He grins. "You'll be okay with this. Really. You'd be horrified to know how normal you sound." He laughs. "And now, if you'll excuse me, it's time for Alex Trebek."
I got to get out of there...anyone who thinks interactive TV is a long way off, never saw Mulder watch Jeopardy.
I've seen enough scary stuff today.
BYERS:
June 26, 2001
I'm ready to return to our apartment. Juliet is still hospitalized, but I don't have to be alone, so I can go back.
Caroline is going to stay with us for a while.
Juliet should be released, if all goes well, on Wednesday. Caroline is planning to stay until the fall semester begins, where she will work out her last two semesters of teaching. After that, she is undecided; she's thought about as far ahead as she can at this point.
Caliban needs to return to work and studies, and he will be leaving immediately after his sister's release. He is extremely quiet; I feel I have learned little about him, but I am nonetheless comfortable around him. He is not secretive, simply not given to many words.
Kat, my sister, and her husband Craig have told me that should I need them to be with us, they'll be there. I did not tell them what occurred until yesterday; I did not want to disrupt their lives, which earned me a sharp reproach from my little sister.
I did promise her that we would join them at Hilton Head Island at their summer home when Juliet has recovered some more. I look forward to this; I've always enjoyed visiting my sister and her family there. Even if I do have to play golf with my brother-in-law.
Golf with Craig is one of those things that once I'm playing, I'm all right; I simply hate the idea, that's all. Craig is a good guy, though, and he and I have always gotten along well.
Should I ever need a prescription for Accutane, his being a dermatologist will come in handy. I've been lucky in that regard; it's never been much of a problem for me.
So when I look in the mirror in the morning, to trim my beard, I'm appalled at what has happened.
I've broken out in an angry red flock of acne. It's covering my face and my shoulders, and it hurts like hell.
Stress reaction, no doubt.
I can't believe this. My teenage years had numerous sources of misery affixed to them, but this was not one of them. I figured by now, I'd be home free.
Byers, I tell myself, this is trivial, ridiculous, and selfish. Juliet is suffering from infirmities far worse than this, and I don't hear her complaining a great deal. Frohike, Langly, and Michael all managed to survive it...
Working all night last night didn't help, either. Frohike, Langly, Michael, Mulder, Caliban and I moved Luanne Russell to her new offices. Which, ironically, are our old offices. We moved her in the dead of night, just as we did when we moved in, many years back, and when we moved out, nearly two years ago...has it been that long already?
It was so strange to be back there...I haven't even been back in the old neighborhood. I know Frohike and Langly have...perhaps it wasn't such an odd sensation for them, but for me...it felt like ten lifetimes ago.
And by the time we had moved everything in, just as cramped...we have way more equipment. How the hell did we ever get everything in? How did we ever move around in the place?
I visit the old room I used to claim as my bedroom. The one Juliet and I have now is not so large, but compared to this room, it's palatial. Langly's old room looks to be about the size of a walk-in closet, which we suspect it might have been. And Frohike's old room still looks like it was intended to be a bomb shelter.
We lived here for nearly ten years...the three of us...how did we do it? And how did we not kill each other in the process?
Admittedly, we came close a few times. There were arguments about Mulder, about money, about theory, about wiring, about purchases, about Mulder, about porn, about Buffy chat, about dinner, about housekeeping, about Mulder...
I think I'm seeing a common thread in here.
Luanne says Renegade should be out in the area...sometime soon. She's never specific, and neither is he...he just shows up, and we're always glad to see him, but he never apprises anyone specifically of his plans. Not even Luanne. Apparently she is at ease with this, even seems to consider it essential in view of the work they do.
I can't live that way. And I am vaguely ashamed for not being certain of what I wanted for so long, for keeping Juliet in the dark. Not that I could help it. I was in the dark myself.
Being in the old place, late at night, reminded myself how much I'd been a creature of the night for so long. It's time to get out in the sun, John old boy, I tell myself. I think that was Frohike's point the other day as we meandered through the streets of Baltimore, just soaking up the summer light. We spend so much of our lives in the shadows. And without light, we die.
I have a sense that the sunlight can now find me.
I just wish it didn't have to reveal what happened to my face.
My kingdom for a tube of Clearasil.
MICHAEL:
I'm just about ready to pass out in class. I was awake all night, helping Ms. Russell get moved into her new office, which is Dad's and the guys' old office...it was so bizarre. God, what a dump. Makes the converted garage look great.
I need a nap SOOO bad. And I got so much to do when I get out of here...looks like July is about ready to go to press. Cyberversion should be out by midweek, the hard copy-snail mail version by Friday...Jesus.
I was sort of bummed that the prof is coming back to his place...I was getting kind of used to the way the other half lives. I'm gonna miss all the creature comforts there, and there's lots of them.
Particularly sharing the bed with Kelly. Dad still isn't cool with the idea we sleep together. It's so fucking weird. I'm gonna miss that a lot.
And I'm gonna miss the cat. Gotten used to having the cat sleep in the bed with us. That kitty is a shameless hussy. She jumps right up on you in the middle of the deed.
I know I must be really tired, because right now, the idea of doing the deed just makes me...well, more tired.
All I want is sleep. Lots of it.
I got tons to do...but maybe I'll go home and snooze. Just for a little while.
I'm so goddamned tired.
I hope Dad likes the way July came out...I really need him to like it...
Class is finally over.
I gotta sleep.
LANGLY:
I used to be able to stay up all night.
Course, in those days, I'd just sleep all day...
Now I don't get to do that.
I stayed awake all night, and now I know I'm not 25 anymore.
Hell, I'm not even 35 anymore.
Trying to stay awake at my desk...Christ, my eyes hurt. My head hurts. All I wanna do is put my head down and pass out.
Last night, it was helping Lu move. The night before, it was sitting up with Patrick, trying to explain to him what happened to his dad...
It was bizarre. First, we told him. He was like, okay, can I go play now? So we let him go play. Later on, he asked when his dad was gonna call. Like he didn't get anything we said. So we talked to him some more, and told him that his dad wasn't gonna call him anymore, that he wasn't gonna get to see him again...and he got that. And took it about as well as you think a little kid would. He cried for a long, long time. I spent most of the night in the recliner, rocking him.
So much for me and Ally trying to get our sex life back.
FROHIKE:
Thank God Ms. Russell isn't working today, and she's extending the same courtesy to her consultants...at least the ones that helped her move into her new offices.
Not that I did much in the way of heavy lifting-I leave that for the young ones, thank you-but someone has to supervise.
I refereed numerous debates on how to best set up equipment, change the wiring, put in new power sources-we took EVERYTHING when we left-so we had to basically start from scratch. Irritation ran rampant during the setup. It rather reminded me of when we moved the offices out into suburbia, except that this time Langly wasn't in trouble with his wife.
All right, so we haven't told the landlord yet...he's in jail, anyway, which is where he spends about 50 percent of his time. And they say the life of a slumlord is an easy one.
Hey, the longer he's in jail, the more free rent Ms. Russell gets.
In spite of the fact that he, Mulder, Langly and Michael argued almost incessantly through most of the night, I'm grateful that Byers showed up. I was hoping that perhaps he could inject an element of calm into the fracas, but he's not capable of that at the moment. His control has been stretched about as far as it will go.
Still, it's good for him to focus. Get out of the dark. Stop being paralyzed.
For Langly, the trick was to grow up. For Byers, it was to loosen up.
They're getting there. It's a journey.
MICHAEL:
Home sweet home. I can't remember last time I was so happy to see my own bed. Except maybe when I got out of the hospital. Getting in my own bed felt so damn good.
Today, it's like, how do you spell relief?
Dad's here, but he's out for the count. His door's closed, and I can hear him snoring away.
He can fucking wake up the Tri-State area, but he's not gonna wake me. I'm so tired I'm shaking.
I hit the waterbed like a thirsty person takes a drink of water.
Just let me sleep...let me sleep till I'm not tired anymore...please...
LANGLY:
Oh Jesus fuck. Nathanson says it's meeting time.
Great. Just what I need to keep me awake.
I'm on at least my 15th cup of coffee...my stomach feels sour from so much of it. And those 15 or so cups have just been since I got to work...I'm not even counting the bazillion or so I had last night...
Bring what you're working on for Europe. Uh-huh. I can barely even read my directories...
Hope I brought the right stuff...I'll be expected to say what I'm doing...
It's like I can hear people talking but they're like a million miles away, like I'm sleeping with my eyes open or something...
"Mr. Langly?" Nathanson's shouting my name.
"Huh?" Shit, I must've nodded off.
I could be an asshole and remind him it's Dr. Langly...but I'm too fucking tired...
I hope I'm reading the right stuff...
BYERS:
I need to see Juliet. I know she has therapy this morning, but I'd like to be there when she's done...I need to get over to the offices and look over Michael's work...I'm sure it's fine, but he's had to put out this issue almost single handedly, and when you're in a hurry you make mistakes...our readers may be odd and paranoid, but they also know what spell check and Grammatik are, and they won't stand for errors...yes, we hear about it, trust me...I have a message from the vice-chancellor at the university, asking me to speak at a symposium...I don't think there's any way I can do it, but I will probably have to...I need to get the apartment cleaned up and ready for Juliet and Caroline...I need some acne medication...
I'm thinking of all this as I involuntarily tumble on to the sofa. I can't stay there. I have way too many things to attend to.
Tivvy is happy to see me, to have one of her humans to perch on, and she decides it's a perfect time to jump in my lap...
And doze off, purring like a lawnmower.
Against my will, and probably my better judgment, I fall into a hard slumber...for many hours...
MICHAEL:
Is that the fucking phone?
Please say it ain't so.
And I know it's not in Dad's room, he would've picked it up by now.
It keeps ringing.
Give it up already, would you?
Whoever is calling is sure as hell being persistent. You'd think after 20 or so rings, they'd get the hint and get the fuck lost.
Goddammit, I'm gonna kill whoever's on the other end...if it's Langly busting my chops, he is a dead man.
Except he's just as tired as me...and he had to go to work...I gloat a little there.
"All right, all right, I'm coming!" Like the person calling could hear me. And if this is a hang up, then I'm gonna dial *69 and fucking annoy whoever the hell it is that won't leave us alone...
"Yeah!" I'm not in the mood to be nice. I'm in the mood to sleep. And whoever you are, you're in my way.
"Michael?" It's Kelly. Oh fuck. I am like so embarrassed for thinking these kinds of thoughts...and I'm even more embarrassed that I'm actually kind of mad at her for bugging me right now.
Okay, I'll try to be nice. "What's up?" I know I'm not gonna win Mr. Congeniality today, but she's crying...I think...
"Michael." She's taking big breaths, trying to keep it together. "I went to work...and when I got there, the lab had been trashed...and Dr. Shalad is dead..." she breaks down into new tears, which she's trying to gulp back. Kelly is not big on losing her cool. It embarrasses the hell out of her.
And I know she wouldn't have called me unless it was important.
I think finding your lab trashed and your boss dead qualify as sort of important.
"What you need me to do?"
"Um...can you...come to DC? I have to talk to the police...I really don't wanna be alone..."
"Okay, I'll be there in a little bit." I don't have my lenses in, I gotta do that. I've gotten to where it's hard for me to drive in my glasses.
Maybe I should get Dad up for this.
Maybe not. He's tired.
Wait a minute. What's he got to be tired for? All he did was supervise.
I get him the hell out of bed.
*****************************************************************************
Which means now I got to wait for him. He's not long, I mean, the dude rarely ever shaves, but he's like, it sounds like Kelly's got trouble, so he wants to look sort of respectable...
I did say sort of. He's got on that godawful yellow hat from Kings Dominion.
I swear to God, I'm gonna take that hat and BURN it.
But I am grateful when he offers to drive.
I let him. Any sleep I can get right now, is good sleep...
Please don't wake me up...
END OF PART 52