World Without End: Book Three: Chapter Nine

by Rachel Anton


Disclaimers in Chapter One.


October 22, 2006

Birthday is as foreign a concept as love once was.

It was Mulder's birthday a couple of weeks ago and when he asked me, over a celebratory dinner, the date of my birth, he realized his mistake almost immediately.  I wasn't born.  I was created, brought to life in a laboratory by unscrupulous scientists on a date no one bothered to record.  No, that can't be right.  There must have been records, but I was never privy to them.

Mulder found my lack of a birthday inexplicably sad which made me inexplicably happy and so we decided that today, October 22, would be my birthday.  He said that would make me a Libra like him, and that it seemed right.  I'm still not sure what that means, but it sounded good at the time.  Anything that brings us closer is a good thing.

So, today was my day.  We were supposed to do whatever I wanted, but all I wanted to do was sit in my room and stare at his face.  I guess he thought that wasn't good enough because he took me for a walk in the forest and told me some ghost stories that he claims are true.  He couldn't find the proper ingredients for a cake, but he managed to make me a silly paper hat.  And then we came back to my room and he gave me you.

You are an old, wire rim notebook with crushed leaves and flowers laminated onto your cover.  You are a journal and bear the distinction of being the only birthday gift I've ever received.

Although you are quite beautiful, your existence confused me.  I asked him what you were for.

"It's a journal," he said.  "It's for you to write down your thoughts and feelings."

I didn't understand why I would want to write those things when I already live with them every day, but he told me it might feel good.  And if not, it would be a record.

"Don't you want future generations to know what we've been doing here?  All the work you've done and the things you've accomplished?"  he asked.  History.  He wants me to write our history.

Unfortunately, my hope that future generations will exist, let alone read this, is getting slimmer every day.

Dana's pregnancy seems to be going well.  There's hope in that.  But with everything else that's been happening, it is a small thread to grasp.

So, future generations-if you are out there -let me tell you, you're pretty goddamn lucky.

We lost more people last month.  That creepy old man with the British accent, that man who was supposed to "help" us, ended up convincing more than half our population to abandon Alex and join his group.  They had to steal two of our trucks just to get them all out of here.

Alex made a plea before they left, tried to convince them that they'd be better off here, with the people they know and have come to love, in the place that's become home.  It didn't work.  Mass panic is hard to reason with.

So they went, bringing our grand total down to a whopping one hundred and two.  Alex lost almost all of his committee heads and most of the committees to boot.  We just keep shrinking, never growing.

The people who remain are here for one of two reasons.  Either they're like me and Bryan, loyal to Alex for whatever reason, or they've completely given up and figure they're going to die soon either way so they might as well just stay put.  The latter group is much larger.  Morale is lower than it's ever been.  Sometimes even I feel as though there's no point in planning for the future because it might never get here.

The mood is bleak on my birthday, but that hasn't stopped me from enjoying it.  Thanks to Mulder I now know a little about love and birthdays.  I guess that's the only history I have to record today.

*************************

November 4

Someone stole my shoes today.

I'm not sure if this is what Mulder meant when he talked about recording history, but it seems somehow worth writing about.

I only took them off for a couple of minutes.  The water had been turned off for days and I hadn't taken a shower in what seemed like forever.  I was standing in the bathroom of my dorm, looking at myself in the mirror and wondering if I'd ever age, if my hair would turn gray as Mulder's has been doing, or if I'd look this way until the day I die.

For some reason I began absently fiddling with the faucet and much to my surprise, water came out.  Excited and uncertain as to how long this good fortune would last, I jumped into the shower as quickly as I could.

It was the coldest, shortest shower of my life, and when I got out and dried off and put my clothes back on, my shoes were gone.

Someone stole my fucking shoes.  I only have one pair.

*************************

November 5

Mulder found me a new pair of shoes.  Boots actually.  I don't know where he got them and I don't want to.  I'm afraid if I asked, he'd tell me he stole them from someone else.

That's how it is now.

It's so cold in my room.  It's going to start snowing in a month or so, and we only have heat two days out of the week.  It's going to be a bad winter.  If this keeps up, people are going to start dying soon.  Of hypothermia or starvation or just plain misery if the aliens don't get to us first.

I talked to Dana today.  She's worried.  About everything.  She says she's been talking to Alex about the problems, that he's doing the best he can and I know that he is, but sometimes I think that's just not good enough.  I know that he needs more help than he's asking for.

She looks good though.  Healthy.  He's taking care of her, at least.

I wish Mulder was here.  He stayed over last night.  He brought his blanket and we added it to my pile, huddled under them together, holding each other to keep warm.  Well, that's what he was doing anyway.  I may have had ulterior motives.

Tonight he is working though.  Guard duty.  I wonder if he thinks, like I do, that he should be guarding all of us from each other rather than outside invaders.

The nights when he stays with me are the only thing I look forward to anymore.

*************************

November 25

Today is Thanksgiving.  We don't have turkeys here.  Only skinny chickens who are half dead even before we eat them.  Still, I suppose we have a lot to be thankful for.  We are still alive.

I kissed Mulder tonight, after dinner.  I don't think I scared him too much.  He didn't run away like I thought he might.  In fact, he kissed me back.  But just a little.  And even though he's not working tonight, he isn't staying over.

Sometimes I wish I could talk to someone about him, about the way I feel, but there's no one.  The only person who might understand and be able to give me something resembling helpful advice is Dana.  I can't talk to Dana.  Not about this.

I guess it just makes me angry and I don't want to be angry at Dana.  The fact is, she's a big part of the problem, and it doesn't seem fair.  How can he still love her?  Why?  She's already got someone to love her.  Why should she have two when I have none?

I asked him once what it was like to be in love, how it made you feel.  He said, "It feels wonderful and awful.  It feels like that person is the most important thing in the world and you want more than anything for them to be happy.  It feels like you'd give anything for just a minute with them."

That's when I knew I was in love with him and that he was still in love with her.

Every now and then I think that maybe he'll be able to love me too.  Someday maybe, but not tonight I guess.

*************************

December 13

Someone got stabbed today.  In a fight over a blanket.  Too tired and cold to write more.

*************************

December 19

Tomorrow is the big move.  Alex decided it would be best if we all stayed in the same building from now on, to conserve resources.  We're supposed to double up in the rooms too if possible.  It's a good idea, but I'm afraid it might be too little, too late.

He's trying.  He really is, but it's getting so hard, so scary.  And he can't devote himself to us fully, the way he once did.  Not with Dana seven months pregnant and needing so much of him for herself.

Anyway, Mulder and I are going to be sharing a room from now on.  It was his idea, which surprised me but made me very happy.  Maybe I'll try to kiss him again sometime soon.

No matter what, I'll feel safer with him near me always.

*************************

December 26

Christmas was better than expected.  Mulder and I decorated the cafeteria and some of the kitchen guys managed to put together a pretty decent meal for a change.  There was enough food for everyone and there weren't any fights.  It started to snow in the evening, but just a little.

I made a dress to wear.  It was white and looked vaguely toga-like, but I think Mulder liked it.  I caught him looking at my chest at least twice during dinner.

Dana looked radiant, albeit gigantic.  I think she ate more than anyone, but no one complained.  I overheard Alex telling her, "My little girl, she ain't so little anymore."  I'd be surprised if he didn't get his ass kicked for that later on.

I think Mulder is worried about what's going to happen once the baby is born.  I have to admit that I am too, but for different reasons.

He wants to be a father to this child, a real father with full access and responsibility, and while Dana will certainly not have a problem with his involvement, there's bound to be conflict with Alex.  I'm not sure if any of them have really talked about how it's all going to work out.  Mulder seems concerned.  I'm not.  I have more faith in Alex than Mulder does, and I honestly believe that in the end he will only want what's best for his child.  Besides, Dana can talk him into anything.

What worries me is the situation the baby is going to be born into.  Not between the three of them, but in this place, this world.  When we found out about the pregnancy, I couldn't believe what she was contemplating.  I couldn't understand.  I think now I do.  I'm scared for this baby, this innocent little life with so much potential.  What kind of existence will we all be able to give it?  How will we be able to keep it safe when we can barely protect ourselves?

I'm starting to wonder if it might have been better for her to end the pregnancy when she had the chance.

*************************

January 5

There was a time when I had an implicit trust of leadership.  When the fact that someone was "boss" meant that they were right, without question.  When I lived with the others, in the time before, the doctors were in charge.  They told us what to do, where to go, how to look and behave and speak.  We listened because they took care of us, but also because we knew of nothing else.  We didn't know of choice.

When colonization began, I watched my sisters sacrificed, one by one, to the cause.  I saw them walk willingly into the hands of the colonists because the doctors told them to.  I lost my entire family because none of them knew how to say no, how to question the authority of the men who'd created us.  Only one thing kept me from meeting the same fate; Alex Krycek.

He saved me, just as surely as he saved Dana, though perhaps for more selfish reasons.  He needed me, a scientist, a clone, someone with extensive knowledge of the project.  He needed me, and he took me before anyone else could.  Soon he became a boss too, but a different kind of boss than the doctors were.  He gave me work and he gave me purpose, but he also gave me freedom.  Freedom of thought and word and deed.  I'm still grateful to him for that which is why this is so damn hard.

Alex is still a leader, and to this day there remains inside me a trace of reluctance to question that.  But more than that, I respect him as a person and I understand him.  I understand more than anything his inability to ask for help even when he desperately needs it.

He needs it now.  Very very badly.  And there is hardly a soul left to give it to him.

The sense of fatalism here has grown as the winter has taken hold.  Food is being devoured, rations depleted, resources exhausted at an alarming rate.  Planning for the future has become a laughable prospect.  These people think that they're going to die very very soon.  They're probably right.

Alex has done his best, but there is only so much that one man can do.

Tomorrow Mulder and I are going to go to him and demand that he let us help him organize this place.  Someone's got to do it and nobody else seems to care enough anymore.

*************************

January 6

I expected him to be defensive.  What we were asking, it's a lot for such a prideful- some would say arrogant- man.  What I didn't expect was for my political intervention to turn into a territorial pissing match.

It started out relatively civil.  Mulder sat silently, and I told Alex that we were in trouble and that he needed to start delegating responsibility more, building morale.  He listened quietly for awhile, his expression blank, and I thought maybe something was getting through.  Until he looked down at the papers scattered across his desk and muttered, "I don't have time for this," in his most irritatingly dismissive tone.

That's when Mulder started talking.

"Don't pull that exasperated leader bullshit on us, Krycek," he practically yelled across the desk, rising up out of his chair melodramatically.  "This is something you gotta make time for!"  It was pretty much downhill from there.

Much ridiculous posturing occurred, and Alex finally brought things to the boiling point when he started talking about "His child" and how that had to be his first priority now.  Aside from proving our point quite eloquently, his possessive pronouns incensed Mulder to further heights of irritation.

"It's mine too, you know!"  he finally reminded Alex, very loudly.  "And let me tell you, if you plan on trying to keep me from this baby, you'll regret it."

I should have anticipated it.  In retrospect, it was probably a mistake to bring Mulder along at all.  He and Alex need to settle their domestic situation before they can begin to discuss anything else.

The most frustrating thing is, I know Alex doesn't plan on keeping Mulder from the baby.  I know that they will be able to work this out, but once he was put on the defensive, Alex wasn't willing to work anything out.

"What do you want, Mulder?"  he asked.  "You wanna live My Two Post-Apocalyptic Dads?  You wanna take my child and my job?  Is that it?  You guys wanna run this place yourselves?  Make all your big plans?"

"Alex, you're not listening," I said, trying to bring the topic back to the real reason we were there.  "This isn't some kind of a coup.  We just want to help you."

"And I want you to deal with the fact that this child is ours, not yours.  Whatever you may think of me personally, you've got no right to…"

"Mulder," I interrupted him, touching his arm gently.  "Could you leave us alone for a minute?"

I hope that he wasn't hurt by that, but I could see that nothing was going to be accomplished if he stayed.  I think he realized that too, despite his anger and frustration.  He must have because he left without a fight.

I apologized to Alex.  Not because I was sorry, but because it was the only way to get him to listen to me.

"We need to co-operate here," I told him.  "We all need to work together if we're going to make this work.  You need to let people in, let people help you.  With the work and Dana and the baby.  These people need guidance and direction and if you're too busy right now to give it to them, you need to let someone else do it.  Nobody wants to take over.  Nobody's threatening your position.  All we want is to help you."

He sighed, allowing himself to deflate a little in Mulder's absence.

"Dana's the one who deals with the people.  She's so good at it.  But now…"

"Now she's got to take care of herself and no one else.  I know.  But Alex, you did this without her once, before she got here.  And you did it by surrounding yourself with people who knew how to deal with others, who could motivate and organize them, get them excited about what they were doing.  Remember?"

"I didn't have a child to worry about then.  I didn't have anything to worry about except staying alive."

"Well, you need to make that a priority again because if you don't, there isn't gonna be anyone around to take care of your child."

He looked stricken enough by that to make it seem an appropriate exit remark, so I got up to leave.  Before I made it to the door, I heard him clearing his throat and shuffling some papers around.  I paused, waiting for whatever it was he had to say and when it finally came, it felt like progress.

"Roseanne?  Can you- can you check on Dana for me?  She's gonna be waking up soon and I've got a lot to do here."

I gave him a tiny smile, trying to show him that he was on the right path, and then I went to do as he asked.

I found Mulder at Scully's bedside.  She was still sleeping, and it looked like she was in good hands so I left.  I guess they've got a lot to talk about.

*************************

January 29

Well, I have a title.  Communications Director.  The job description falls somewhere between Alex-to-English translator and community cheerleader.  I think it's what he needs.  I hope that I don't fail.  It's a step in the right direction that he asked me at all, and that's all that I can hope for right now.

I was right about the baby.  I spoke to Dana yesterday and according to her, Mulder and Alex will have equal parental rights when the child is born.  As far as I'm concerned, her word is the law.  And whatever BS Alex might pull out of his ass when she's not around, he knows it too.

She asked me about Mulder.

"You love him," she said.  "I can tell."

She was sprawled out on the couch in her room and, strangely enough, chewing on a pencil.  I was distracted by her size.  It seems like she's getting significantly bigger every single day.  If I hadn't done the tests myself, I'd think she was having twins.

"How can you tell?"  I asked, slightly embarrassed, but relieved to finally be talking about it.

"Because your face lights up every time you talk about him and when he's around, you don't even look at anyone else."

I wanted to ask her how to get him to love me back, how she did it, but I knew it was a stupid question.  You can't force emotions on someone.

"He needs to be loved, Roseanne," she told me.  "Just love him and you'll make him very happy.  Even if he's reluctant or afraid or….whatever, eventually he'll realize that he's found what he's always been looking for."

I'm so sorry for the resentment, the anger I've been feeling towards her over this.  She wants him to be happy.  She wants me to be happy.  She loves us both and it was silly of me to think otherwise.

"How long did it take for him to fall in love with you?"  I asked her.

"I don't know.  It took him years to really let me in."

That made me feel a little bit better and a little bit worse.  What if we don't have years?

End Chapter Nine.
Continued in Chapter Ten.


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