TITLE:  World Without End: Book Three (10/?)
AUTHOR:  Rachel Anton
E-MAIL:  RAnton1013@aol.com

xxxxxx

"I feel like a beached whale."

Mulder laughs.  As though I were telling a joke, 
trying to be funny.  Ha ha.  I'd like to see him 
carry around this gigantic baby from hell for forty 
one weeks.  Then we'll see who's laughing.

"What ever happened to maternal joy, Scully?"  he 
asks.  I think I got the maternal and he got the joy 
in that deal.  I only hope that when the baby is born 
I'll feel more of a connection to it, more than a 
sense of my body being held hostage.

"I threw up my joy seven months ago."

He laughs again and lights another candle, then 
settles back onto the couch beside me.  I pull the 
blanket up to my chin, shivering.

We lost everything today.  The blizzard knocked out 
our generator and we've had no heat, lights, or 
electricity for almost ten hours.  This time I don't 
think they're coming back.

I convinced Alex to go a few hours ago.  He didn't 
want to leave me alone, didn't want to miss anything.  
The baby dropped a couple of days ago and labor has 
moved from impending to imminent to where the hell is 
it already.  The pain of the baby pushing against my 
lungs and bladder has become almost unbearable and 
the fact that I can't go a half an hour without 
having to urinate, while amusing to Alex, is just 
about the most irritating thing I've ever 
experienced.  I think if it doesn't come out soon, I 
might go in with a shovel myself.

Alex's greatest fear is not being here when the time 
is finally at hand.  But a baby needs warmth and 
light and bringing those things back has to be his 
first priority tonight.

I told him to get Mulder, that Mulder would stay with 
me and that he'd know what to do if it happened.  He 
didn't argue with me.  In fact, he seemed almost 
relieved to have some sort of solution, some sort of 
help.

And so he's gone to work with some of the other men, 
out into the cold dead night to salvage what he can 
for us.  As soon as he left, I started to feel a 
series of mild, but shooting pains which could well 
be the onset of labor.  Or it could be gas.  Either 
way, they've been continuous for almost four hours 
now.  I'm trying not to get my hopes up.  I'm trying 
not to panic.  I haven't told Mulder for fear of 
leaving him disappointed when, yet again, no baby 
appears.

Most of the time I believe in what I'm doing.  
Sometimes I fear I've made a terrible mistake.  
Tonight I linger somewhere in between, glad that my 
child has not two, but three, possibly four, parents 
who want nothing more than her happiness and safety.  
At the same time, fearing that none of us will be 
able to give it.

"So, what if it's a boy?"  Mulder smiles, tucking 
himself into a tightly wound cocoon of blankets.

"What if it is?"

Only Roseanne knows the baby's sex for sure, and at 
this point she's flat out refusing to tell me.  
You've waited so long, she says.  Don't spoil the 
surprise now.

I've already gotten the surprise of being overdue, 
the surprise of two false labors.  I'm not sure I can 
handle any more surprises.

"Well," Mulder says, "we've been going with the 
assumption that it's a girl because of....why are we 
going with that assumption again?"

"Alex has a feeling."

"Ah, right.  Krycek's psychic visions.  Okay, well, 
let's just say for the sake of argument that he's 
wrong."

"Okay..."

"So, if it's a boy, what are we going to call it?"

Names.  He's worried about names?  I'm worried we're 
not going to be able to wash and feed the damn thing.

"I dunno, Adam?"

"Oh, Scully, how terrifically predictable."

"Well, what's your bright idea, Mister Originality?"

"Traditionally, boys are named after their fathers," 
he points out.  There are many problems with this.

"So you want me to call him Falex?"

We both laugh as a gust of wind rattles the windows.  
I hope Alex isn't too cold out there.

"So do you think you might want to have another one 
sometime?"  I ask eventually.  The look of surprise, 
confusion and sheer panic on his face is answer 
enough.

"Scu...Scully, I...don't you wanna see how this one 
turns out first?"

"I didn't mean with me, Mulder."

"Well then..."

He stares blankly at me for several seconds and I 
struggle with my facial expressions, trying to send 
him some sort of clue.  For someone so intelligent, 
he can be infuriatingly obtuse sometimes.

"She really cares about you, Mulder."

"Are...are you talking about Roseanne?"

"Who else?"

The blank stare returns, but is quickly replaced by 
an embarrassed head duck.

"Scully, I don't know what to do with her."

"Well then I guess you won't be the one to tell baby 
about the birds and the bees."

"No, no I mean, I just think that she wants something 
that I might not be able to give her."

"Mulder, all she wants is to be close to you.  I know 
you've got a lot of love to give and you both deserve 
to be happy.  I'd hate to see you..."

Oh God, there it is.

"Hate to see me what?  Scully?"

Oh God.  Oh God.

"Mulder, I..."

I don't want to have this baby.  What am I doing?  
What the hell do I think I'm doing?

"Mulder, my water just broke."

We've been through the drill a dozen times.  He knows 
what he's supposed to do, but for a moment all I see 
in his eyes are panic and confusion.  Not a very 
comforting sight.

"Your, uh..."

"I think that I may have been having contractions for 
the past few hours."

"You think...why didn't you say something?"

"I wasn't sure.  But now I'm pretty sure.  Mulder, 
this is gonna happen tonight."

He nods dumbly and I ask him to please help me to the 
bathroom so that I can clean up a little.  There is 
nothing maternal or joyful about sitting in a puddle 
of amniotic fluid.

We check the color of the fluid, making sure that 
everything appears normal, and I change into what 
Alex has taken to calling, in an appropriately 
aggravating white trash accent,  my "baby-birthin' 
dress".  It looks like a lunch sack.

By the time I've waddled back to the couch Mulder 
seems to have his wits back.  The bastard actually 
looks excited.

"So how long do you think it'll be?"  he asks.

"I think..."

My throat tightens as I speak, a sob threatening to 
break through.  I want to cry.  I want to scream.  I 
want to pound my fists on the table and beg for God 
to make this stop happening so that I won't have to 
bring this innocent little person into our fucked up 
little world.  I guess Mulder wouldn't like that very 
much.

Dammit, Alex, why did you have to leave?  Yes, I 
know, I told you to, but I didn't realize I would 
need to smack the crap out of someone right now.  How 
can I hit Mulder's innocent, jolly little face?  How 
can I dig my nails into his cheeks and demand that he 
make this all go away when he's so nervous and happy 
and sweet?  I need you, Alex.  I need you to be my 
rock.

"Could be any time now," I manage to say with 
relative calm.

"How are you feeling?"

Like the world is coming to an end.  Like I've made 
the most terrible mistake imaginable.  Like I'm in 
the middle of a long and twisted nightmare and that 
any time now my monster baby is going to spew from my 
stomach like that scene from the Alien movie, all 
claws and blood and screaming.  Like I'm missing 
something because this is supposed to be a happy time 
and don't most women have tears of joy rather than 
horror at this moment?  Like I'm some kind of 
defective, mutant woman who was off playing with a 
B.B.  gun when they handed out the mother-gene.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"I am fine."

I am fine.  I am fine.

God, please, baby, don't come until Alex gets here, 
okay?  He really really wants to be here.  Maybe if I 
hold my breath...

Ow.  Oh God.  Ow.  

I can't hold back the grunts of pain when the 
contraction hits.  Too fast.  This is all happening 
too fast.

"Scully?  Scully, what is it?"

"C- con- "

"Contraction?"

I nod and take hold of his arm, squeezing, needing to 
spread the pain.

"Scully, breathe.  You have to breathe."

Oh God.  I forgot to breathe.

What is that noise?  God, what is happening?

Roseanne.  It's Roseanne, standing over me and the 
pain is starting to pass.  But it's only a matter of 
time before it comes back.  Where did Roseanne come 
from?

"Dana, are you okay?  Is it happening?"  she asks, 
her face hovering in concern.

I reach up, take hold of her shoulders and pull her 
down so that her nose is nearly touching mine.

"Roseanne.  Get Alex.  Right now."

xxxxxx

I knew this would happen.  She said it wouldn't, but 
I knew it would.  She said this was more important, 
but I knew it wasn't.  She said Mulder could handle 
it and goddammit, I don't care if he can or not.

Snow.  Stupid fucking snow.  I can't see anything.  I 
can't feel my feet.  Where the hell are we?

I wonder how long it took Roseanne to find me.  She 
was out of breath when she pulled me from the others, 
when she told me that it was happening.  She probably 
ran.  But we're running now and don't seem to be 
getting anywhere.  Running in snow is like running in 
water.  It could have taken her as long as a half an 
hour to get to the generator site and then to find me 
in the chaos might have taken ten or fifteen minutes.

She could be having the baby right this minute and I 
can't move any goddamn faster.  It's not even like 
there was a point.  The power is still out.  The 
people are still angry and frightened.  I haven't 
accomplished a damn thing and I may have already 
missed the most important moment of my life.

God, where are we?

"Are you sure you're going in the right direction?  
Did we just pass the library?"  I call out into the 
darkness, through the swirling gusts of white powder.

"Yes!  I told you!  I'm following the tracks I made 
on my way out.  Besides, that wasn't the library.  It 
was the cafeteria.  We're almost there."

Cafeteria.  Almost there.  Just keep thinking it and 
maybe it'll be true.

If only we had lights.  It's so fucking dark out 
here.  Another failure to add to the rapidly growing 
list.  I wonder if my baby will ever know what it's 
like to have hot running water or a warm bed to sleep 
in.

At least I managed to organize some sort of coherent 
work schedule for everyone before this latest crisis.  
Things seemed to be going better for awhile.  
Hopefully this won't throw us into another tailspin.

There's still a lot of winter left, though.  A long 
time to get through without heat and light.  A long 
time to try to take care of a baby without any of the 
conveniences of modern life.

Baby.  There's going to be a baby in my room tonight.  
A real live, breathing, crying, pooping baby.  What 
are we gonna do with it?

Roseanne's flashlight has stopped moving.  We're 
here.  Thank God.

Her hands are trembling as she tries to turn her key 
and get us into the building.  Too slow, she's moving 
to damn slow.

I shove her out of the way, finishing the job myself, 
and bolt for the stairs.  My flashlight is barely 
enough to guide me up the three flights to our room.  
I trip, curse, run, trip again, my shoes squeaking on 
the linoleum, echoing through the dark, nearly empty 
building.

Almost there.  Almost there.  Just wait a little 
while longer, baby.

Down the hall and I can't remember the number.  Which 
room do I live in?  Thirty-one?  Thirteen?  Dammit 
all.

That one...that one with the black scuff mark on the 
door where I kicked it that time that she locked me 
out by accident.  It takes all my restraint to open 
the door with my hand rather than trying to run right 
through the wood.

The room is dark, but lighter than the hallway.  
Candlelight is bouncing off the walls and there is 
warmth, more warmth than I've felt in a long time.

I wave my flashlight around, trying to find a sign of 
life in the almost eerily peaceful environment.  Ret, 
sleeping in a pile under the kitchen table, whimpers 
at the sudden brightness.

"Over here, Alex."  A whisper from the couch.  
Mulder, Dana, sitting close together, looking down 
at....

I missed it.  I missed everything.

There is a baby in her arms.  A tiny, pink baby, 
wrapped in one of my old flannel shirts.  It's so 
quiet.  So still.  God, what if it's dead?

"Dana?"

"Come on over here and meet your daughter, Alex."

Okay, must be alive.  Unless she's gone mad.

I move slowly towards the couch, suddenly terrified, 
wishing it would be an acceptable response for me to 
run screaming back out the door.  It's actually here.

My heart is still beating so fast from the adrenaline 
rush of trying to get here in time that I find it 
difficult to adjust to this new reality.

"Alex, please, turn off the flashlight."

I do as she asks, but reluctantly.  It feels like my 
only tie to a pre-baby world.  Everything is so soft 
in here.  I feel awkward and huge and loud.

Finally I manage to make it to the couch, to sit down 
next to Dana and look at her.  She's covered in 
sweat, hair matted to her bright red, puffy face.  
Still, beautiful.  The baby is sleeping peacefully in 
her arms.

"Dana..."

God, I have no idea what to say, what to ask, what to 
think.  I can't stop shaking, can't adjust my 
breathing.

"She looks to be in good health," Dana says calmly, 
quietly.  So calm.  How can she be so calm?

"She sure was in a hurry to get out," Mulder adds in 
a similarly low and placid tone.  A hurry?  She was 
almost two weeks overdue for God's sake.

"I...I'm sorry I wasn't here," I offer lamely.  Sorry 
doesn't even begin to cover it.

"I am too, Alex.  But it wasn't a difficult labor.  
It was very quick, and Mulder did fine."

I glance over at Mulder for the first time, taking in 
his gleeful expression and his pride, and it should 
make me angry because I should have been the one to 
deliver this child, but it doesn't.  I'm just glad 
someone was here.

"Thanks, Mulder.  I'm glad..."

A tiny sigh comes from the strange creature in Dana's 
lap, interrupting me and drawing everyone's 
attention.  She's woken up.

"I think somebody wants to say hi," Dana says and she 
holds this baby, this little tiny person in her arms 
and lifts her up so that I can see her, really see 
her, and she looks so...small.  And wrinkled.  Her 
slightly cone-shaped head causes a moment of panic, 
but then I remember what the books said.  She looks 
like a normal newborn.

"Eve, this is your other daddy."

"Hi," I say stupidly, waving.  She gurgles alarmingly 
and Dana chuckles as a wad of saliva drops out of 
baby's mouth.  Great.  She likes me already.

"Why don't you hold her," Mulder suggests.  Yeah, 
that's a great idea.  And then when I drop her on her 
head or crush her ribs we can all have a good laugh 
about that too.

"Yes, Alex, you should."

Before I can think of an excuse Dana is positioning 
my arm and placing the baby, wrapped in blankets, up 
against my chest.  As soon as Eve feels the absence 
of Dana's hold and settles completely into my grasp 
she starts to cry.  Her face twists into a distorted, 
anguished ball of red and her fists wave in the air 
in protest.

"Dana, look, this...you need to take her back," I 
insist, trying to make myself heard over the ungodly 
caterwauling.

"Just relax, Alex.  She can probably tell that you're 
nervous."

Relax?  How the hell am I supposed to relax?  My baby 
hates me.  She knows that I wasn't here when she was 
born, that I've let her down already.  And she's 
probably fucking cold too.  I'm sure somewhere in her 
little baby consciousness, she knows that's my fault.

Dana runs her hand through my hair, puts her head on 
my shoulder and whispers reassuring things into my 
ear.  At least, I sense that they are reassuring.  I 
can't actually hear her.

"Maybe she's hungry," I offer, desperate to end this 
poor thing's misery.

"She's already eaten a bit."

Well, maybe she needs to eat some more.  God, Dana, 
just take her back already.

"Just hold her, Alex.  Remember all the books you've 
been reading?  You're not gonna hurt her."

Books.  Right.  Where the hell are you when I need 
you, Doctor Spock?  You never told me she'd start 
spitting up and screaming when she met me.

What was I thinking anyway?  Did I really expect any 
kind of book to prepare me for this...  this 
miserable, sobbing, helpless, little Eve?  Little 
Eve, my little little girl who I'm supposed to 
protect and support and teach and love and I can't 
even hold her right.

Or maybe I can.  Her eyes pop open and the crying 
stops as suddenly as it began.  Her fingers uncurl 
and her hands reach outwards, towards my face.  Or 
maybe they're just flailing wildly.  Either way, 
she's not howling anymore.

I realize that I've been nervously rocking my legs, 
bouncing her on my knees unconsciously, and that 
maybe she likes that.  Maybe I was doing something 
right without even trying.

"You see?  You're doing fine, Alex."

"How are you doing?"

She smiles serenely, looking almost drugged.

"I'm good.  Exhausted, but good."

"Did it hurt?"

Stupid question, judging by the look on her face.  Of 
course it hurt you jackass.

"You should have heard her screaming," Mulder 
comments.  Yeah, I should have.

"I'm really sorry I..."

"I know, Alex.  I know you tried.  It's okay.  Just 
relax and get to know your beautiful baby."

My beautiful baby.  I look down at her again and 
everything else seems to disappear because she is 
beautiful.  Puckered and goofy and just completely 
beautiful.

I shift around a little, positioning her in the crook 
of my fake arm which she does not seem to mind or 
even notice as anything unusual, so that I can touch 
her with my hand.  For some reason I need to feel her 
skin, to know that she's really a person.

I reach down tentatively, not wanting to frighten her 
into another crying jag, and gently stroke her little 
baby cheek with my index finger.  I think she's the 
softest thing I've ever felt.

I pull my hand back and wiggle my finger around her 
field of vision, attempting another wave hello.  And 
then mid-wave, she reaches up with her own tiny hand 
and wraps it around my finger.

For some reason this causes my chest to constrict in 
a painful mixture of fear and adoration.  Fear 
because she is so delicate, so trusting and innocent 
that I'm afraid for her.  Adoration because she is 
mine and because she maybe doesn't hate me as much as 
I thought.  No, she doesn't hate me at all.  She 
needs me and she loves me.  I can feel it.

I will protect you, Eve.  I promise you that.  I'll 
never make you regret trusting me this way.  I'll 
make myself worthy of that trust, worthy of you.

"Alex?"

I feel Dana's hand brushing against my cheek and 
realize that I have no idea how much time has passed, 
how long I've been staring at the baby.  I realize 
that it is getting warmer.  I can hear the heat 
running again and I can hear Mulder snoring.  I 
realize that I am crying.

"You're going to be a wonderful daddy, Alex."

I hope you're right, Dana.  God, I hope you're right.

xxxxxx

End Chapter Ten
Continued in <a href="wweb311.htm">Chapter Eleven</a>