**

"So I dropped a port-a-potty on them, Byers grabbed the gun, Jimmy sat on their legs, and we called the cops. Those things are heavier than they look, by the way."

Mulder laughed a little, not as much as Mel had expected. He was probably distracted by whatever his current case was, Mel figured. The two men were sharing pizza and beer on a Saturday night, and Mel had been coaxed into recounting the Gunmen's latest efforts to get a story.

"It should be a good one, improve circulation a bit. Byers was a little disappointed with it, but that's Byers. He was hopin' it'd go all the way to the mayor." He shrugged. "So what are you and Scully up to?"

"Hmm?" Mulder blinked at him.

Mel sighed and stood up. "Put in another movie, Mulder. Maybe that'll get your attention."

Mulder gave him a look he couldn't interpret. Mel shook his head and went to the kitchen for more beer.

**

Mel woke in a cold sweat. Strange room, someone in bed with him… Mulder. Memory came back in a rush and he tried to force himself to breathe deeply, to relax. He closed his eyes to calm himself and the image returned. He couldn't stop the shaking this time.

A heavy arm slung over his shoulder and Mulder pulled him close. "Fro?" came the sleepy voice. "You okay?"

He tried to nod. "Yeah," he swallowed, almost choking on it.

Mulder pulled himself up on one arm, leaning over the older man. "Hey," he said, rapidly waking up. "What is it?" His face clouded with concern in the gloom and he put his hand on Frohike's bare chest, rubbing gently. "Fro? What's wrong? What is it?"

Mel shook his head in jerky motions. "Just a nightmare," he managed to get out.

Mulder let out a breath in relief and curled himself tighter around Frohike. "You want to talk? This is about Wednesday, isn't it."

Mel nodded slightly and looked away. "Can't stop thinking about it."

Mulder was quiet for a minute, stroking Frohike's shoulder, waiting for him to stop shivering. "What exactly happened," he asked eventually. "The whole story this time."

Mel quirked his mouth in a humorless smile. "The whole story, huh."

Mulder shrugged. "I've been there. When people point guns at you, it's not funny. So tell me what happened, without the jokes."

Mel glanced up at him, deciding. "It was worse than that," he finally said. "We almost lost him, Mulder. Again. I can't stop thinking about it."

Mulder considered it. "Byers?"

"Of course Byers. It's always Byers, isn't it."

"Langly's come pretty close a time or two, as I recall." Mulder tightened his hold slightly. "So have you, more often than I care to think about."

Mel rolled a bit, turning to look up at him. "Well, this time it was John."

"And the guy with the gun?"

"You know John. He's gotta get close, gotta get the story, gotta hear what they're saying, gotta get pictures of faces."

"And this time?"

Mel shrugged. "We always figured there were more people involved, that it went further up the food chain than the mayor's aide, but we never had any proof. So here the guy is, taking the bribe from the contractor, and the microphone goes out. So I keep fiddlin' with the damned thing, and Byers and Jimmy sneak closer, hoping to record it with the handheld."

He took a breath and let it out slowly. "I'm still trying to get the microphone to work and we hear a noise and Langly grabs my arm. The contractor has this gun out, and he's pointing it behind this pile of pipes, we can't see anything, but we know what happened."

Mel took another breath and closed his eyes briefly, remembering. "So I shake Langly off, he's frozen, you know how he gets. And I start creepin' closer myself. And Jimmy and John come out, hands up. By this time the mayor's aide has seen the handheld and the gun and I don't know which he's more scared of. He's practically shitting himself.

"John—John's cool. You know him. He's going on, some crazy story about naturalists looking for evidence of urban barn owl nesting. And Jimmy's blinking, looking totally dumb, which is probably helping. The aide is starting to buy this, but he's not exactly the brain trust. I did tell you he wanted his bribe in the form of lottery tickets, right?" Mel's voice was scornful.

Mulder stroked his hip softly, more to comfort than arouse. "And the guy with the gun?" he said again.

Mel closed his eyes and rubbed at his face with one hand. "He steps up to Byers and grabs the handheld," he said hollowly, seeing it all again in his mind. "He puts the gun right up against John's forehead. Right… here…" He tapped his own forehead, eyes still closed.

Mulder took his hand and kissed it gently. "He's safe, Fro. Remember that."

Mel shivered again and opened his eyes. "Yeah, I know. But—fuck—we came so close. I pushed one of the port-a-potties off the truck onto them. The gun went off and Langly and Jimmy started yellin' and I thought for sure the boy was shot." He took another deep breath. "It was a stupid thing to do, but… I didn't know what else to do. He was going to kill John, right there in front of us, and then Jimmy. God, it was stupid. Jimmy tackled John, though, got him out of the way. Cracked one of his ribs. He's… John's got a big bruise, side of his face, where the gun hit him when the guy went down. That's how close it was."

Mel sighed. "Langly looks at it, looks at me, I know he blames me for it. For what happened, what almost happened. He can't even talk to me, he's so pissed. I don't blame him."

They lay quietly together for a time, until finally Mel said what was weighing on him. "I almost killed him, Mulder."

Mulder shifted, reached out to wipe away tears glistening in the semi-dark. Gathered the smaller man to him and held him close while more silent tears fell.

"He's safe, Fro," he murmured. "They're all safe. You're all safe. You saved Byers' life, and he knows it. So does Langly. He just needs some time to get past the scare." He tightened his grasp a little. "So… do… you," the agent said pointedly.

Mel shook his head, but relaxed slightly, looking up, away, trying to compose himself. "We gotta get out of this business, Mulder," he said, clearing his throat. "I couldn't stand to lose either of them—any of them, really. Even the big idiot. We can't keep doin' this."

Mulder nodded, smiling faintly. "And do what? Write travel guides? You boys are journalists, Fro. The best I've ever seen. You'll keep doing it. Even if you quit, you know they'll keep doing it. Byers is always going to want to get closer. Langly's always going to freeze. And Jimmy's always going to go along with whatever Byers says. And Fro, there will always be someone out there with a gun." He leaned down and looked in Mel's eyes. "They need you, and you know it. You'll be there for them."

Mel smiled, the first real one in a while. "Yeah. Someone has to be."