Chapter Text
Juan was up later than he’d intended, but he just couldn’t turn his brain off. He flipped past the nightly news and landed on an old black and white episode of The Twilight Zone. Finally the slow pacing of the show relaxed him and he leaned back in his armchair.
Then a desperate wail broke the night air, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. It sounded like someone was just outside. He grabbed his shotgun from its spot above the fireplace and stepped out into the yard.
His neighbor was smoking on the porch of the house next door.
“Oye, Marco, did you hear that noise?”
“Man, you’ve lived here your whole life. You should know by now that’s how the river sounds at night.”
“This was different. It sounded real close.”
“Wind’s up tonight. It’s 2 a.m. Go back to bed.”
He nodded, not really relaxing. He put the gun away, turned off the TV and headed up the stairs to go to bed. Halfway up the staircase he paused. Marco was wrong. The wind wasn’t up tonight. There hadn’t been any wind at all that night. He shivered. Maybe the sound had come from inside the house.
He turned to his daughters’ room and crept in. Juana and María were fast asleep, breathing deeply. Their little brother Mateo in the next room was sound asleep too. His wife Mireya likewise.
He tried to shrug it off. Maybe he had dreamt it. Maybe he was more tired than he had realized. He laid down next to Mireya and fell asleep.
At 5 a.m. the next morning, a shrill scream awoke him. This one was in the house. Mireya jerked awake too and together they ran to the girls’ room.
María was standing over Juana screaming bloody murder. He walked to her side and saw his little girl was unmistakably dead. Her eyes were closed but her brown skin had taken on a blue hue in the night and she was swollen somehow. He could see some type of clear fluid leaking out of her mouth and nose. Mireya howled and he could hear Mateo getting out of bed in the next room.
“María! María, look at me.”
He took her by the shoulders.
“Take Mateo into the yard right now. We can’t let him see this. Go right now.”
María nodded wordlessly and left the room, still sobbing.
Mireya had collapsed on her knees by Juana’s bed, howling the word “no” again and again.
Choking down his vomit, Juan went back into the living room to grab the phone and dial 911.
…
10 days later
Scully’s back ached as she lugged her bag up three flights of stairs.
If she was honest with herself she was dragging her feet a little. What she wanted after a long day’s work was a hot bath and some silence but she was not going to get that.
Sure enough the second she had turned the key in the lock Stubbs and his partner in crime, Will, descended.
Stubbs, a shaggy white Corgi-adjacent mutt, was weaving in and out of her legs barking while Will reached up for her to pick him up.
“Alright you two. Let me put my bag down.”
Mulder stepped out of the kitchen and whistled. Scully jumped at the shrill noise, but it worked somewhat. At least Stubbs stopped barking and walked calmly back to Mulder. Will picked up on the hint less well, wrapping his arms and legs around Scully’s leg as she put her stuff in the hall closet.
She limped across the living room, dragging Will to the kitchen where Mulder was doing dishes.
“Elevator is out of order again,” she huffed.
“Of course it is. How was your day?”
“Long.” She bent over and pried Will off her leg and into her arms.
He coughed into her blazer and Scully froze. She turned on her heels and carried Will to his bedroom, setting him down on his little bed. She pulled a case out from under his bed and opened it. Mulder joined them.
“He’s been fine all day. That’s the first time he’s coughed.”
“What do our cousins in the CIA say? Trust but verify? That's all I’m doing.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“I trust you. But you might be missing something.”
She whipped out the stethoscope from the case and pulled Will’s shirt up.
“Breathe in deeply, sweetheart.”
His little lungs were clear as bells.
She felt his forehead. “How are you feeling today Will?”
“Good. Daddy and I played with Stubbs and then we made cookies.”
“Cookies? Did you leave any for me?”
“No!” said Will.
“Yes, Will. We left Mommy some cookies.”
“No,” laughed Will, running from the room to play with Stubbs.
“Scully, he had one very small cookie.”
“I’m not criticizing. Cookies are okay, as long as he still eats a good dinner. That really is his first cough today?”
“Yes. Probably just clearing his throat. I know the RSV was scary—“
“What’s scary is that I missed it. I missed it so badly he ended up in the hospital. To think I thought he was being dramatic…”
“Yes. That was really scary but it was a fluke.”
“We have to stay on top of it. He could develop asthma because of my mistake. He keeps needing nebulizers and the damage might be permanent.”
“Well, he hasn’t wheezed at all today. I checked multiple times. Look.” He took her by the hands. “It’s scary. But I really think he is going to be okay. We’ve just got to not panic.”
“Panicking? Who says I’m panicking?”
“Scully, when you panic, he panics. And then he can’t breathe.”
“You have a point. It’s been a long day. Maybe I need some food.”
“Speaking of dinner, I was thinking of the deli on the corner tonight,” offered Mulder.
“That’s fine. I’m not leaving the house again though, so you’ve got to go pick it up. Get me a salad please.”
“Can I have a grilled cheese, Daddy?” called Will from the other room.
“Will you eat your carrots this time too?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Mulder left for the deli and Will turned to her expectantly.
“Let’s play!” He took her by the hand and dragged her to his toy box.
Scully felt a sudden pang of regret that she had decided to stay home with Will instead of getting a few more minutes of alone time.
Will gave her a status report as to who all the good and bad guys were and why they were fighting and held out a bad guy.
“You play the bad guy, Mommy.”
“Okay, Will. She knelt next to him.”
“Give us the stone,” grunted Will as deep as he possibly could, waving around a good guy.
He looked at her.
Scully froze.
“It’s your turn,” he prompted.
“Uh….”
Dana Scully was very good at many things. She was not good however at being bad at something. And she was bad at being a mother. She’d always been awkward around people, unsure how to open up and connect. She had always thought that would go away with motherhood, that faced with another creature that was half her it would be second nature to connect. Instead, it was work. Sitting here, opposite him, trying to play pretend, she felt exhaustion sweep over her.
“Sweetie. Let’s… let’s put your toys away and watch some cartoons until Daddy gets home with the food, okay?”
Will shrugged. “Okay Mommy.”
…
Scully considered asking Mulder to handle bedtime on his own, but that didn’t seem fair after Mulder had been handling childcare duties all day. He had to need a break from time to time too.
Post bedtime routine, she went straight for the kitchen and poured a glass of wine for herself. She held up the bottle to Mulder mutely.
“No thanks, Scully.”
He sat down at the dining room table and watched her pull out a stack of files from her bag.
“Third time this week… and it’s Wednesday.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s… I am worried about you. You’re working a lot. And drinking more than I have seen you drink before.”
“Mulder it’s a glass of wine, not a bottle. And work… work is important to me. I like my Rare Diseases position at the CDC. It’s rewarding. Cases no one else has an answer for. It’s all the best parts of my old job.”
“Minus the insane coworker,” said Mulder.
“Well, he got promoted.”
“Oh really? What’s he doing now?”
“Me, semi regularly. He got promoted to insane husband.”
“Lucky guy.”
She downed the wine and poured a second glass. “You don’t complain about how much I work when it’s time to pay the bills.”
"Well you got me there. I just want you to take care of yourself too instead of working your ass off for us. Maybe I can find something that pays a little better than writing for The Lone Gunmen during nap time."
"And have my mom watch him all the time? That’s not fair to anyone. Things will change when he starts kindergarten." She picked a file up from the stack.
"This case is bothering me. Maybe you can take a look at it." She slid him the file and he opened it.
"Four children have gone to bed perfectly healthy and not woken up. Autopsies have found their lungs absolutely full of water."
"Pneumonia?"
“No other signs of pulmonary edema. It’s like these kids drowned in their beds. Way more water than would be inhaled in the case of dry drowning and the kids hadn’t been swimming that day. It’s late fall in northern New Mexico. It’s all happening in a very small town of only about two thousand people, which is why we at the CDC are being called in. The team is thinking it could be a novel virus, but something about this just isn’t sitting right with me. Whatever this is, it’s not manifesting in any adults, even the elderly or people with weakened immune systems. Babies aren’t catching it either. Just kids between the ages of three and six. Siblings don’t seem to be giving it to each other. And coronaviruses or influenzas or strains of bacteria that could cause something like this normally have a longer period where some symptoms would manifest before the disease reached such an extreme manifestation. But onset and death seem to be almost simultaneous.”
“Huh. I take it you’ve already considered foul play.”
“We have, but local law enforcement didn’t find any evidence of a struggle and the toxicology reports all came back clean. I am at a loss for how to stop this thing and I am afraid more children are going to die if our team doesn’t come up with something. I guess I thought that if I talked about it out loud with you something might click.”
“Where’d you say it was?”
“Nueva Atocha, New Mexico. About two hours outside of Albuquerque. Named after a local sanctuary famed for its healing powers. Tourism to the town is the main source of income.”
“Sounds like motive to keep an epidemic or a murder spree silent.”
“It does. They want me to go there on Friday.”
“Okay. How long do you think you will be?”
“Oh, come on, Mulder. I can’t leave you two. Not after we just brought him home from the hospital. I feel guilty just thinking of going.”
“Okay, first of all, he’s been back from the hospital for a week and a half and he’s needing fewer nebulizers. He and I will be perfectly fine if you need to go travel for a few days. I know you care about us but it’s okay that you care about your career too. So go. We will be fine.”
….
Mulder's phone rang the next day at lunchtime. He looked at caller ID and saw that it was Scully.
"Mulder, it's me."
He smiled. She still started every call the exact same way after years together, knowing full well that caller ID existed now.
"What's up?"
"Come with me."
"I'm sorry?"
"I talked to my boss and said that you had a background as a profiler and I thought you might be helpful on this case. He agreed that you could come along, as long as you agree to not be paid and I foot the bill for everything myself. Will you come?"
"What good am I going to do in a room full of epidemiologists and rare disease specialists?"
"You always bring your unique perspective and I think we might need that. I can’t explain it, Mulder, but I have a hunch that all isn’t as it seems in Nueva Atocha. Please."
Mulder knew from experience that Scully very rarely asked for help. She must have a very strong hunch that something was very wrong to even consider asking him.
"What about Will and Stubbs?"
"So we have Mom watch Will. Melissa had asthma so she'll know what to do. Frohike and the guys love Stubbs, so they'll probably be willing to take him for a few days."
"If you think it's a good idea, I will gladly do it."