"The storms continued.
So one day I withdrew to the interior
To pray the gods in solitude, for hope
That one might show me some way of salvation."

"The Odyssey," Fitzgerald Translation. Book 12, Lines 426-429.
Used without permission.
 

MICHAEL:

I'm real nervous about this. I get there a little ahead of Mulder, but I don't go in without him. Guess I need the moral support right now.

And I'm kind of annoyed with Kelly that she made me go alone.

Then again, if he humiliates me, she at least won't be around to watch. For some reason, when he bags on me in front of her, it's way worse than even when it does it in front of the guys. I mean, at least he bags on the guys, too-a lot. So like they know. But Kelly, I know for some reason he's got something against her, but at least he doesn't hassle her.

Like I said, if it wears a skirt, it gets special dispensation.

Becca wants to walk, and this is one place we don't want her to walk, so she's kind of annoyed with me that I'm carrying her, and as soon as she sees Mommy, she jumps out of my arms and races over to her. And Dr. Scully, who is like always so cool, when she's with her kids, she's all mommy warmth. She picks up Becca and kisses her and she's like, hi pumpkin, I missed you!

Dr. Scully looks about 15 today. She's got on blue shorts, a pink t-shirt (tight), and her hair's in a ponytail. No makeup. She doesn't need it, I don't know why she wears it anyway.

Dad's asleep. Even the screeching kiddies don't wake him up. Good thing, because he'd probably bitch about that, too.

Dr. Scully sets Becca down and repeats the process with Sarah, but since Sarah's not walking, she holds on to her. Becca gets kind of pissed off at this. I think Becca wants to be the center of the universe. Takes after her dad that way.

Dr. Scully and Mulder are having some sort of conversation and they're not vocalizing, so I'm not real sure what's going on, but with them, it's like, watching them sign to each other is a little unnerving, it's almost like watching them have sex. When they use voices, not so much, but watching them with each other, well, it's weird. You almost feel like you're intruding.

Dr. Scully packs up the kids and bails out, she says she's not feeling too good and she tells the kids they have to take naps because she's tired.

So that's why parents always want their kids to take naps. Because THEY'RE tired. Got nothing to do with the kids.

Dad keeps snoozing. At least when he's sleeping he's not yelling.

Mulder says he's gonna head on out, he just wanted to see how Dad was doing, says to tell him he was there (like that'll make Dad's day, I'm sure), and since Scully's not feeling so great, he says he's gotta help with the kiddies. Asks me if I'm gonna be okay on my own.

I have no idea, but I say, yeah, sure.

He's real asleep, because he's snoring. Maybe this is good. Maybe he feels better. I hope.

But Christ, the noise! How any woman could ever share a bed with him...

Don't go there, Frohike.

I park myself in the uncomfy chair and open up my backpack. Kelly let me use some of her catalogs to see where we'd like to do upper division. Might as well check it out while I'm waiting for Atilla the Hun to rise up and yell.

I must've gotten intrigued, because I'm kind of startled when I finally hear, "Michael?" He's not croaking so bad. Just sounds weak and tired...which is bad enough.

"Yeah, it's me."

"When did you get here?"

"Little while ago. Dr. Scully and Mulder came by to say hi."

He doesn't say anything for a while. "Do Byers and Langly know yet?"

"Nope, they're not home."

"Good. Keep it like that."

"Oh, sure, Dad. Like they're not gonna wonder what's up."

"I don't want them coming around right now."

"Dad, y'know, they're gonna find out and they're gonna be worried, so just deal with it, okay?" I'm not in too good a mood myself. I've had like almost no sleep and I swam my balls off.

He glares at me, that Dad-glare. "You'll do as you're told."

"Dad, what kind of drugs are they giving you? You seriously think Langly and Byers aren't gonna find out? Get real!" And share some of those drugs while you're at it. I could use a few right now.

"Well, keep them out of here."

Okay, I've had it. It's been a long weekend, I have to start school in the morning, and I'm tired of this bullshit...

"Hey, Dad, what's wrong with us being concerned? Huh? Like it's some kind of crime that we're worried-"

"I don't want you to worry."

"Fat fucking chance right now-"

"Watch your mouth!" He might be drained out, but he can still bug me about that.

"Hate to tell you, Dad, but we're all gonna worry, and nothing you say can make us stop, so there!" I walk the two paces over to his bed where I'm hanging over him. "You know how scared I am? How much I'm worried like what'm I gonna do when you get out and how long's it gonna take and how're we not gonna let you get sick again and I thought you were gonna die the other night..." Oh great.

It happens. The waterworks are getting turned on. I cough to make it stop, but it's not working.

"And I come here, and you treat me like shit!"

His eyes look blank and sleepy. I wonder how much of this he's getting.

I turn to sit back down, but he just says, "Come here."

Great. Another ass-kicking from my father...I'm the one standing, why am I letting him do this?

I glare back at him. But he lifts his arm that's not all tubed up and says, come here.

"I am here."

He puts his hand on my hair and ruffles it up. I can feel the waterworks coming on...Jesus fucking Christ. I'm a mess. I squeeze my eyes shut so maybe he can't see, maybe it'll stop...

"I love you, you know that," he says softly.

"Yeah, well, you don't show it much."

"I know. But I'm scared, too...this is not my idea of a settling experience."

I look at him. He's got tears in his eyes, too.

God, would we make a great movie of the week or what?

He pulls me on to his chest, lightly-I know he's got a big fucking scar there now, so I'm careful.

"Michael...I just want you...to go to school and do what you're supposed to be doing. Which is being a young man starting out, not sitting around and worrying about your old man."

"Little hard right now."

"You. Are. Going. To. School. Tomorrow."

"I know, I know! Jesus, Dad, you think I wasn't gonna go? I figured you'd kill me if I didn't!"

"I would." I think I see him smile, just a tiny bit.

"Dr. Scully says you're gonna need some help when you get out."

"I'll be fine."

"She says you're gonna be laid up a long time."

"Not a chance."

Is he out of his mind?

Well, we do know he's on drugs...but even if he wasn't, he'd be like this. Probably worse.

"How long're you here for?"

"Don't know. At least a few days. I should be fine by then."

He's white as a ghost. He's got bruises all over his arms and hands. He can't sit up. He's breathing rough.

Oh yeah, he's gonna be in great shape for a few days.

"Maybe Ally can help you out, since she doesn't get to go back to school."

He shakes his head a little. "Allison has enough to keep her busy."

"She'd do it."

"No. She needs to take care of her children."

"All three of 'em."

Dad smiles, just a little. "Yes, all three of them." The third one being Langly.

"Jo'd do it," I say. "She says she's feeling better."

"She's also back on the job."

"You want me to call Mom?"

"Michael, I don't want you calling anybody! I'll be fine."

Oh yeah. You are just so macho, Dad.

God, he looks small. To me, he always looks like a giant. Even though I'm a little taller. I never realized he's a small guy.

Thing is, he is a tough guy. Really he is. But that doesn't mean he can overcome the laws of nature right now.

He pats my hair, and runs his hand down to my shoulders, where he makes little circles. This always makes me feel better...

"Am I interrupting anything? I can come back later."

Woman's voice. Southern accent. Quiet. Probably one of the nurses...

No, they just barge in...

"Martha?" Dad croaks out the word, his voice comes out like in this squeak you get when you're 14 and you're getting a new voice.

I think my heart just stopped. I jerk my head up...

And there she is.

She's standing in the doorway.

She's short. Dark hair. Glasses. Freckles. Big tits.

Exactly Dad's type...oh shit.

And she's carrying...can you believe this...a teddy bear!

Oh. My. God.

She looks sort of uncomfortable.

Good.

"Martha, come in," Dad says to her.

"Are you sure? You look...busy."

"No. Martha, this is my son, Michael."

She looks a little bit surprised. Make that a lot surprised. Bet Dad never told her he had kids.

If I'm lucky, that'll be enough to make her scream and run.

"Michael...this is my...friend, Martha Small."

She extends her hand, but I won't take it. That seems to embarrass her a little.

Good.

"I was...wondering how you were doing...I won't stay long."

All right, she's like real uncomfortable now.

I like having the power.

Any power will do right now.

"Please, sit down," he tells her. Hey, there's only one chair here, and that's my chair!

"Thank you." She sits. "I was talking to Joanna." I think she means Jo. That's her real name, we just call her Jo. Friends get to call her Jo. Other people have to call her Joanna.

So she's not a friend. Ha.

"Jo and I were eating pizza when this happened," Dad says weakly, and it's like he's smiling a little. Then he glares at me. "Michael, do me a favor and find my glasses, that's a good boy."

Aargh...

I got to not be too rude to this lady, or I'm in for another ass-kicking. But I got to let her know she's not welcome here.

This is gonna be tricky.
 

MARTHA:

I knew this was going to be a bit awkward, but I wasn't expecting this.

I knew nothing about Melvin having children.

Not that this looks like much of a child...he's got a five o'clock shadow on par with his father. He looks, in fact, like a younger version of Melvin.

But instead of that sweet expression, he's got a rude, surly look about him.

Admittedly, when I met him, he was cuddling with his father, so he must have an affectionate streak in there somewhere...but you wouldn't have gotten me to believe it had I not seen it with my own eyes.

I probably shouldn't have come. I was a fool to think that there was even a chance...

And now, knowing he has children, it's all the more complicated...

But I've already told Joanna I would do the job. And that's what I'm here to talk to Melvin about.

This is going to be much more difficult with an unpleasant boy nearby. How old is he? Judging from his looks, I'd say 19 or 20...at least he's probably not a minor.

I should go. I really should. And bringing the bear was probably a mistake, too. An impulse purchase that I saw in a shop as I passed from where I parked. I'll try to make it short and sweet.

I hope this boy doesn't live with him...or this could be a much harder job than I'd imagined.
 

MELVIN:

I am so embarrassed.

Martha is here...and my son is acting like an idiotic five-year-old.

I don't care how bad a shape I'm in. I'm going to kill him.

First I have to figure out a way to get out of this damn bed, though.

I feel like a nervous teenager and the girl's father is watching every move we make.

Right down to the damn hard-on I'm getting under the blanket...oh Christ...you would think...

I think I need to kick my son out. I know he's going to get upset, but I need to be with her.

More than he knows.

"Michael. You need to go home and get ready for school tomorrow."

"I'm ready." His voice is terse.

"Michael. You look exhausted. Go home." I'm trying to keep my voice gentle, but he's taxing my patience. And I don't have much right now.

I should have told her I'm a father...she probably won't want anything to do with me now...

Particularly since my son is being such an ass!

"Come over here." I give him the best father-voice I can muster right now. He reluctantly steps over.

I give him a hug as best I can, and tell him I love him, and I'll see him tomorrow.

If that doesn't make Martha scream and run, I don't know what will.
 

At least I have my glasses again. Michael did bring them over to me.

She is beautiful.

She looks down and hands me a small brown bear. "This is for you. I know it's kind of silly..." I see a blush forming on her pretty freckled cheeks.

"No, I think it's very nice." And I do. Lasts longer than flowers and takes up less room...

And it's from her.

You don't suppose...

No, I suspect she felt that since she was coming to see me, she should bring something.

But I do think the bear is cute.

I want to look at her all night...but I'm so tired...

"Martha?" I ask, very softly. "Would you mind...staying for a while?"

She shakes her head. "Not at all."

I drift off to sleep...and the bear is right next to me, on my pillow.
 

MARTHA:

He looks exhausted and weak.

I'm supposed to be seeing him in a clinical sense. As a patient. As a source of income.

I was completely deluded if I thought that possible.

All I can see is this lovely man sleeping nearby. He's snoring.

Daniel snored. I find this a comfort.

He has a sweet mouth and lovely, strong-looking hands. He's a small man, but with those hands, he looks as if he could normally carry the weight of the world in them.

Maybe he does. Maybe that's why he's ailing in the fashion he is.

I check his chart-might as well do some semblance of nursing duty here.

I discover that in December of 1999, he suffered a heart attack. This is not his first major illness.

My heart sinks a little. Do I really need to be with a man who has tons of physical problems?

Not to mention an irritable son who clearly does not welcome my presence. And I don't know what he has against me...unless Melvin has told him about me, which, somehow, I doubt.

What I need is to pull my own life together.

I tell myself, by taking this extra job, that's what I'm doing.

Dream on, girl.

END OF PART 18