"My lord, we have been considering
Whether or not a god might have done this..."

"Antigone," Translation by R.E. Braun. Lines 350-351. Used without permission.
 

MICHAEL:

October 8, 2001

Christ, what time is it? I didn't hear the alarm.

No wonder I didn't hear it, I'm not in my room.

I'm here on the sofa on top of Dad and Martha. Martha's like leaning up against my dad's shoulder, he's snoring like a chainsaw...

They look like those people who've been happily married about a hundred years. Ever seen old people who still really love each other? That's Dad and Martha right now.

I don't wanna wake them, but I got to get up. It's still dark. I put my nose against Dad's computer screen, it says 5:10. Okay, I'm good, I can even go back to bed for half an hour. Problem is, I fall asleep again, I'm never gonna get up. I feel like shit. Here we go again, last winter all over again-Jesus.

I don't have time for this shit.

Wonder if Martha's working. I mean, if she's not she's probably gonna get pissed if I wake her up, but if she is and she's late, she's gonna be pissed because she didn't get woken up.

Choose your default here.

I shake her, sort of light so I don't wake Dad, and she's such a light sleeper, she wakes up right off.

"Hey Martha. You gotta work?"

"What time is it?" She yawns at me when she says it.

"Like 10 after 5."

"Oh, hell, I need to get moving, I'm on at 7. Michael, do you mind if I get in the shower first?"

"Nah, go ahead." Least SHE doesn't take all the hot water, unlike some other people around here.

I've decided I don't mind having her around too much. She's okay to me. And she helps keep Dad off my case, most of the time.

Maybe she can stay here and Dad can stay at her place...

You're an evil bastard, Frohike.
 

BYERS:

I hardly slept last night after the shooting. The alarm is a most unwelcome intruder.

I should just call in today. I certainly have enough excuses, at least in my mind. I think the shooting should justify a day off, definitely.

The real reason is that I'm reluctant to leave Juliet alone for the day. I realize that in terms of being capable of dealing with the situation at hand, we are equally competent, but somehow, with her carrying my child, she seems somehow more vulnerable.

I don't tell her this. If I do, I will either be laughed out into the hallway or slapped upside the head. I'm not certain which I would prefer less, and don't care to find out.

"Maybe you could stay with Ally today."

She looks at me as though I've lost my mind. "John, the glass people are coming back! I have to be here! And Ally's going to temple, it's Yom Kippur."

"Langly's there."

"Oh, you're really motivating me to get out of the house, aren't you?" She's teasing-she and Langly get on well-but in a sense, she's serious.

She's going to be very stubborn about this, I can tell.

"You could practice on Patrick," I'm teasing her now.

She looks at me with another withering look. "John. If we have a child like Patrick, I will drown it at birth. And that's a promise."

I have to laugh at that one. She actually enjoys Patrick, but he is a brat. Not unlike his adoptive father.

"It could be worse. They could be like Mulder's children." The Mulder children are adorable, entertaining, and on the whole, badly behaved. Not terribly unlike he who begat them.

"Yes, but with Dana, there's at least hope that eventually they can be taken out in public and not cause a major insurrection." Dana is at least firm with her daughters, even if Mulder is indulgent in the extreme. They do tend to conduct themselves better when they're with her. With Patrick, he's got two loving people who are simply not disciplinarians, and there are times when he could use one.

Thinking like this, I realize: I sound just like my father.

I need to work on that. Take some lessons from Mulder and Langly in how to just enjoy your kids. That they can do extremely well. I worry that while I can provide the structure they need, I might be deficit in providing for them emotionally.

I'm determined not to let that happen.

Of course, in order for us to even get to that point, I've got to keep Juliet safe.

And this incident brings back terrible memories. The worst of the worst.

The day Susanne was killed.
 

FROHIKE:

I kiss Martha goodbye-and I don't want to kiss her goodbye. I want to kiss her. I just don't want her to go, even if it is only to work.

"Sure you can't call in sick?" I murmur to her as she stands by the door, dressed in her scrubs, her steth wrapped around her shoulders, a sweater over her arm.

"Not unless I want Gizzie to beat me up."

"Now there's a scary thought."

"Almost as scary as having her yell at you."

"Perish the thought." That's the ultimate scary thought. Gizzie is not known for holding back on her true sentiments.

"Mmm." She murmurs appreciatively as I nibble lightly at her neck. "Mel, you're making this hard, you know."

"No, I think you're making me hard."

"Hey, hey, what's going on, no PDA!" We're interrupted by a loud cough and the scratchy voice of Michael, who's just emerged from the shower.

I smile wickedly at Martha. "We should show that boy what real PDA looks like."

She looks aghast. "No, we should NOT."

"Mmm, why not?"

"He'll get jealous."

"I hope so." I lean over and try to work my hand up the back of her scrub shirt, my fingers searching for the hooks on her bra.

She pulls away, laughing. "Mel, you are soooo bad!"

I think to myself, come back later and I'll show you just how bad I can be.
 

LANGLY:

I did set the alarm, and Ally mustn't have seen it, she didn't shut it off. Fucking thing screams in my ear. Not that I needed that ear anyway. Having to listen to Zupan-prick, I might be better off without it.

"Ally, wake up." I shake her gently, and she's like, what?

"Need you to do my hair."

She's still real groggy. "I'm not doing your hair."

"I gotta get up, Ally. I only got one working hand, you gotta do my hair."

"I washed it last night." She rolls back over and stuffs her face in the pillow. "Go back to sleep, babe."

"Al-leee! C'mon! I gotta get ready to go!"

She's still pretty asleep, but she sits up, hard. "We went through this last night. Go back to sleep." Pulls the covers over her head.

I sit up. "Fine, I'll get 'Randa to do it."

She opens one eye at me. "This I want to see. On second thought, no, I don't. Now go back to sleep."

I pull the blankets down, leaving her with just her T-shirt on-hey, that's my Snoozonica T-shirt.

"Ally, I gotta go to work, which word didn't you understand?" Girl is so damn stubborn sometimes.

"Go back to bed." She's shivering, but she won't get up.

"Look, I'm a lot better-" and then I get slammed by like a five-minute coughing fit.

I finally get past it. She's up by now, she looks at me with those pretty blue eyes.

"You were saying what, Langly?"
 

BYERS:

I absolutely don't want to leave the house. I don't like leaving Juliet here.

I have to believe she is nervous about it, but being Juliet, she doesn't let it take over for her.

"John, I'll be fine. Really. I know what to do. Pregnancy has not rotted my brain, at least not anymore than it's been rotted already."

"Your brain's not rotted."

"Ha. You should see what programmer's brains look like. Someday they'll do a study of the brains of dead programmers, they'll open them up and find out that all the insides have been sucked out of them."

Normally, this allusion would amuse me-but all I can see in that moment is Susanne's brains splattered all over the walls and floor and furniture of our apartment...

All the insides sucked out.

I shudder.

She's already at her desk, opening her e-mail, but she turns to stare at me, hard. "John, are you all right?"

"I'm...just worried, that's all."

I expect her to scoff, but she looks at me with tenderness and concern.

"I am, too."

I wasn't expecting that revelation, but somehow, it makes me feel a bit better than if she'd said nothing was wrong, and what am I sweating over.

Her steady dark gaze washes over me. "I'm scared to death, John. I am. But I'm not about to let whoever is trying to screw up our lives do it. And one of the ways I'm not going to let them is that I'm going to continue to live my life. And our lives. We're not going to run scared."

Maybe we should. The memories of that day are all too vivid right now.

There are too many parallels to keep me comfortable here.

Alone...in our home...pregnant...and having done work for the government...

I am utterly unnerved.

I'm just about to pick up the phone and call the vice-chancellor's office, but I'm stopped by the gentle touch of Juliet's hand, forcing me to leave it in its cradle.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" She says, very quietly. The tone is not accusing.

I nod mutely.

"John. It's not going to happen again. I promise you that."

I don't think she can...but right now, I want to believe her.

And I probably should get to work.
 

FROHIKE:

There's real coffee in that there coffee pot. Martha put it on for herself and Michael.

Temptation, thy name is Starbucks.

And there's not that much left, so it can't hurt me...I'm just about to pour a cup, when a light slap graces the back of my hand.

"What the fuck you think you're doing?" My darling son. I groan.

"Having some coffee, you brat."

"Jesus, not enough I've almost lost you what, almost three times now? I don't think so, Dad!" He grabs the coffee pot and pours the contents down the drain.

Little brat. And he's still got a vile mouth.

"You weren't planning on going to school today, were you?" He shouldn't. He was miserable all night and it's obvious he's still sick. I'd really like to keep him home.

"Can't. Got a chem test." He grabs his backpack.

"Take it as a makeup."

"Not."

"Since when do you get the idea that you're invincible, Michael? That you don't have to take care of yourself?"

He looks at me, and I think I see the tiniest of smiles play across his lips. "Hey, learned it from a pro. Bye!"

I'd kill the little bastard except for one thing.

He's right.
 

LANGLY:

Okay, so she got up. This is a good sign. And I think she's doing coffee in the kitchen. Also a good sign. Except she makes it for herself anyway.

This is a bitch. I had my other arm, I'd be on my way getting ready now. I wouldn't have to bargain with her to help me get ready. I mean, like I know she means well.

But I got to get back to work. God knows what's gonna happen if I don't. They won't fire me. I'm sure of it. I think they'll just torture me. More than they do now.

Sad thing is, it could be a real cool job. Really could.

I'm doing my best to make it one. Zupan-prick doesn't know this, of course. I'd probably get taken out and shot if he did.

I cringe. Scott got taken out and shot. I know he did.

I got to get motivated and go through his stuff, and Joanie's. I just don't wanna. It's like, I don't have to look at their things, they're not really gone. Right?

And at work, it's like, I step out of what they consider out of line, I get reminded that Scott used to be a patriot.

My ass. Scott was bought and sold like merchandise. Like he was McFrugal's merchandise. Fuck that.

I'm gonna beat these bastards at their own system, and I'm not gonna do that by hanging around the house. I mean, it's not like it's terrible around the house. It's actually real nice. Ally spoils me rotten, I like that. And I'm so fucking tired, it feels good to just be able to sleep pretty much when I want.

Except that Zupan-prick calls every hour practically, and we've had some unwanted visitors. Ally got real unnerved by that. Really pissed her off, a lot.

Ally comes back in, but she's not alone. She's got Patrick with her, he's just sort of hanging on her and got his head on her shoulder, which is not a good sign, usually he gets out of bed and he goes from 0 to 200 in about 6.5 seconds. Porsche has nothing on him in terms of pickup.

"Hey buddy." I call to him, and Ally sets him on the bed with me, he cuddles up next to me right on my skin.

He's hotter than hell. Shit. Ally says I'm warm, but I got nothing on this little space heater.

"Not doing so great there, are you, dude?" I put my good arm over him. And he doesn't say anything, which for Patrick is like so weird. Normally, he's not only going at 200 miles an hour, his mouth is going twice that fast.

"Yeah, he was crying when he came out in the kitchen." She rubs her hand over his cheek, which is real pink.

"Well, buddy, you can stay here with me while Mommy goes to temple," I tell him. He just cuddles up hard.

"Nothing doing," Ally says. "I don't think you're up to dealing with both of you."

"Hey, what's he gonna do? He's barely moving right now. We'll just sack out here, watch some tube, be pals. Sound okay, dude?"

He sort of nods, but then he starts to cry again. "My head hurts!"

"Oh baby. Langly, I don't know, he's pretty out of it, you sure? I mean, it's only service, the important thing is the day itself, not the service-"

"Ally. You like the High Holy Days thing. Go do it."

"I'll think about it. See how you both are doing. You up for some coffee, baby?" She's addressing me.

"Yeah, that'd be good."

Shit. I just thought of something. How the hell am I gonna get out and get to work?

Where the fuck is Junior when you need him?
 

MICHAEL:

I really tried to stay awake in bio, really I did. I mean, I like the class now, it's sort of interesting, but I'm so damn beat. I could go home now if I didn't have a test.

Thank God the test is chem, not bio. Chem's easy. Lots more systematic. You can just sort of get there from here.

Dr. J sends out on out, time's up, and I'm about to race to my next class when I see Kelly right outside my class, which is real bizarre, because Kelly's usually in class right now...

She looks like she's crying. Shit. What the fuck happened?

I go over and put my arm around her. She's like on fire. Oh man. Got to get her home.

Kelly must really be sick, she never cries and she never goes home. Oh man, that scares me.

And shit, I got a test right now. Shit, shit, shit.

What would my dad do here?

He'd take the girl home and fuck the test.

No, he's anal. He'd go see the professor, then take the girl home, and make arrangements to take the test another time.

God, why does he have to make everything so complicated?
 

I scope out my chem professor, I hoped to get him before class but he's already in there. I have Kelly with me, hey, I want him to know I'm not lying.

He's an okay guy, kind of a pain sometimes, but he's righteous about it. Says I can take the exam with his night class tonight, but if I don't do it then, I get a zero.

Well, I'm gonna take it tonight, because there's no way I'm taking a zero. Screw that. Not gonna happen here.

Man, what happened to Kelly here? She's not like this. Even when she doesn't feel so good, she's like so cool. But right now, she's like so miserable.

"I guess it's going around. I had six call-ins this morning, and some of them I know want more time to study, but some of you, well..."

Is he trying to tell me I'm a good student?

God, I am sure as hell trying.

I'm trying to keep my teachers happy. I'm trying to keep my dad happy. Trying to keep the guys happy.

Mostly, I'm trying to keep Kelly happy.

In the meantime, I spend half my life feeling like I'm falling apart.

So this is what taking care of people is like.
 

LANGLY:

Goddamn phone. Probably Zupan-prick. It's almost 8, he's in by now. Guy has no life. He doesn't know it, but I checked up on him, and yep, no life. No wonder he's such a prick.

Was I a prick when I had no life? I'm afraid to ask.

"Yeah?" I'm not in the mood to talk to the bastard, and I don't feel the need to be nice.

"Hey, loser, it's Jason." Ally's little brother, who is actually a cool dude. "You die and someone forgot to throw dirt over you?"

"Something like that. How's doing, Jay?"

"Not bad, not bad. Hey, where's my little big sister?"

"Shower. Want me to have her call you?"

"Yeah, maybe, but in case I'm out, give her a message, it's real important, okay?"

"Sure."

"Tell her not to go to temple today."

"I don't think she's going anyway. Patrick's sick. Hey, you gotta come meet the little guy, he's totally cool." Except right now. He's flaming.

"Good, well, tell her whatever she does, not to go to service."

"Why, what's going on?"

"You really are out of it, aren't you?"

"Well, been kind of busy and sick..."

"Ah, you're just a lame excuse for a hacker. Anyway, check out these sites, like do it now, if you can move that sorry butt of yours out of bed." He reads off the URLs of three sites. I can remember URLs. Phone numbers, forget it, but I never forget URLs. "Just don't let her go, okay? Anyway, Anne's waiting for me, gotta run. Tell Ally to call me later, okay?"

"Will do. Catch ya."

Patrick didn't like my being on the phone, he's whimpering now.

"Hey, it's okay, buddy, Mommy'll take care of us."

I just about get him calmed down when the fucking phone rings again. This time it's probably Zupan-prick.

"You're not dead yet," it's Mulder. "Too bad."

"Fuck you, Mulder. And whatever it is, the answer's no." I'm thinking about hanging up on him. Whatever he needs, I'm not up for it today.

"Listen, I got the weirdest e-mail. It's from Skinner. You remember Walter Skinner?"

"Well, duh!"

"He says to stay away from service today."

"I doubt you'd need the warning, Mulder. You never go."

"No, but your wife does."

"This is really weird. I mean, not five minutes ago, I get a call from my brother-in-law out in the Bay Area, and he says the same thing."

"You're kidding."

"Not."

"Shit." He swears under his breath. "Okay, well, I only called because I like your wife, not you."

"I don't like you, either."

"Good, we're even. Keeps things uncomplicated. Anyway, you ought to check that out when you get a chance, could you? I'm curious."

"Yes, massa," I fake the slave thing.

He laughs. "Got you well-trained, I see."

"Oh, fuck you, Mulder."

"Get in line." He clicks off.

Ally comes back in, she's got on her regular clothes, but that doesn't mean anything, she wears the same stuff everywhere-work, home, the beach, French restaurants, Mitch's, temple, you name it.

"Hey Ally. Got two calls while you were in the shower."

"Your boss is an asshole."

"Nope, not him. One from your baby bro. One from Mulder."

"Jason all right?"

"Yeah, he's cool. But he's got a message for you, and in fact, Mulder's got the same one."

"They only barely know each other."

"No, it's weird, they gave me the same message, even though they if they talked to each other, it would have to be some satellite fuckup."

"What kind of message?" She's brushing her hair out. I can't see her too well, but I can hear her hairbrush and see this burst of auburn.

"Like don't go to service today."

"Babe, I wasn't going to go, not with you guys both sick." She puts down her brush. "What're they talking about, by the way?"

"Don't know. But I'm gonna find out. Hey, Ally?"

"What?"

"Bring me a laptop, please please please?"

"You're not going to go off and do anything crazy if I do, will you?"

"What, me?"

"Yes, you."

"Hey, not going anywhere, not with my little guy here."

"I'm not going to temple, but I do have to go out and get him some kid's Motrin. I don't have any, and he needs some. I don't need an encore performance of the last time he had a fever."

No kidding.

And then I think...she's going out...what time does Junior get here?

And the fucking phone rings AGAIN.

END OF PART 69