#like i just wrote mulder asking scully if he's too difficult to love

[queeenpersephone]

looking up the beyond the sea transcript to draw some parallels in my msr fic and damn that script was tight. although this has me in stitches:

SCULLY: I know that you and Dad were… disappointed that I chose the path I'm on instead of medicine but I need to know… was he at all proud of me?

MARGARET SCULLY: He was your father.

(A seagull cries out.)

#the last ch of my msr diana angst fic is coming #i'm crying in the coffeeshop #no seriously #listening to cinnamon girl and crying #like i just wrote mulder asking scully if he's too difficult to love #and i am CRYING #msr #beyond the sea #liv speaks

[baronessblixen]

Prompt? Mulder and Scully pick out baby furniture and later talk about baby names? Or one or the other, I'm happy either way! 🙈

Look who's answering a five-year-old prompt! I think this was supposed to be about the new baby, but I wrote about William instead.

Fluff, set after "Alone": With Mulder being unemployed, and Scully on maternity leave, they spend their time thinking about furniture, baby names, and all the ways their lives will change. (wc: 1,378)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 14: Preparation is Everything

Fox Mulder is a new man.

His naked body is still adorned with pale scars, but they’re healing, slowly fading away. Soon, they will be gone, and with them the only proof of what he went through. How many people can claim to have come back from the death? Mulder doesn’t even want to know.

The other day, Scully left a pamphlet for group therapy on his coffee table. His first instinct was to throw it into the trash, but then he reconsidered. Scully isn’t pushing him. No one is. They’re all just glad he’s back among the living. Well, most of them. He bets that Kersh can’t wait for him to die for real. That feeling, he realizes, is mutual.

When he stood in front of Kersh's desk, his former boss barely able to contain his glee, he was ready to fight. To defend himself and go on another rampage. That feeling lasted all of five seconds. Not worth it, a voice inside him whispered. He thought of Scully, and the baby, and knew that they were the only thing that mattered to him now. They didn’t need him jumping off oil rigs. He’s caused Scully seven years of grief and he was done. Enough was enough. Someone else could take over the X-Files. He may not trust Doggett yet, but Scully does. And when Scully trusts someone, he knows they’re good people.

So, he’s Fox Mulder now. Just Fox Mulder. Unemployed bum, spending time at his partner’s apartment whenever she lets him, and trying to figure out what to do next.

“What are you doing?” Mulder asks as he steps into the living room where Scully sits on the couch, engrossed in a colorful catalog.

“Looking at baby furniture,” she replies with a sigh.

“I thought- I thought you already had everything.”

“I thought I’d have more time,” she admits sheepishly, biting her lip. Seeing his Scully unprepared for anything just makes him love her more. But he knows better than to tease her.

“Well, you’re in luck,” Mulder says, sitting down next to her. “We both have plenty of time. With me being fired, and you on maternity leave, we have all the time in the world. Let’s go shopping.”

“Mulder, we have the catalog.” She points at a crib with a smiling baby inside of it. Mulder thinks it looks a bit like an alien. “We can order everything we need.”

“Or,” he says, drawing the word out. “We can go into a store and pick things out.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure I don’t want the kid to sleep in a thing that looks like this.” He points at the ugliest crib he’s ever seen. “$1000? Does it come with the whole apartment? Come on, Scully. It’s going to be a nice trip to Babies'R'Us.”

*

“Does no one work anymore?” Mulder mumbles as he and Scully step into the crowded baby store. There are squeaky bright colors everywhere and Mulder doesn’t know where to start. He keeps close to Scully’s side, but she, too, seems overwhelmed by the sheer size of this place.

“Wish you were hunting monsters instead?” he asks Scully and she gives him a small smile.

“At least we have experience with that.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Mulder assures her. “Look, that’s the baby section. Let’s start there.”

In the end, it’s not as difficult as either of them thought it would be. It doesn’t take them long to find the essentials. They both fall in love with the same crib and Mulder gets so excited that he kisses her quickly and noisily in front of another family, not caring at all.

“Mulder.” Her cheeks are coloring and she’s looking around nervously. Old habits die hard.

“I doubt we’ll run into Skinner or Kersh here, Scully. Or anyone we know. Either way, we’re not working together anymore, are we?” The realization hits him that he’s telling the truth. As of right now, they’re no longer work partners. There’s nothing holding them together. He’s not even FBI anymore.

“Are you all right?” Scully touches his chest.

“I’m- I just realized that we’re no longer partners.”

“Are you leaving me?” There’s no worry in her voice, but rather amusement.

“You know what I mean.”

“Mulder, we don’t need to be working together in the basement to be partners. You know that, right? We are partners in this.” She takes his hand and puts it on her stomach. “Unless you-”

“Oh, I want. I’m all in, Scully. I hope you know that?” She nods, and he sees a few tears pool in the corner of her eyes. He almost ruined another moment with his insecurities.

“Do you think we have everything we need for now?”

“You’re tired,” Mulder states and she doesn’t deny it.

“And hungry,” she says with an apologetic smile.

“We’ll get you and Junior something to eat. Let’s get out of here.”

*

Their baby is a pizza lover. They may not know much about their child yet, but they do know that. Mulder watches Scully happily lick her fingers clean after eating a slice of greasy pepperoni pizza and thinks he might even be a little turned out by her enjoyment of it.

“Happy now?” he asks her, unable to hide his own happiness.

“Very much so. I just- I need to get comfortable.” She’s half sitting, half lying on the couch, and watching him with curious eyes. She’s been doing that a lot lately. Who can blame her? After all, she had to bury him. Had to try and make peace with him being gone and having to do all of this on her own. He doesn’t want to think about missing all of this. He’s missed so much already. The moment she found out. The morning sickness. Her growing belly. He missed all of it. He can only try to make up for all of it now. But they will never get that time back.

“Mulder, stop,” she says gently, a hand on his thigh. “I can feel you thinking.”

“Can you?” he asks with a sad smile.

“I wish I could turn back the time and-”

“None of this is your fault, Scully.”

“It’s not your fault either.”

“Debatable.”

“Not debatable,” she says firmly. “You’re here now and it’s everything- Mulder, it’s everything.”

“You know you’ll see a lot of me now, right? With me being out of a job. I need to- I will find something. We can’t let Junior think I’m some kind of slob.”

“You’re going to be an amazing father,” Scully whispers as if she were sharing a secret.

“Let’s hope you’re right.”

“I’m always right.” She winks at him and they both laugh softly. A truce.

“Have you thought about names for Junior?” Mulder asks as Scully snuggles into his side. He puts his arm around her and, a bit more hesitantly, lets his hand wander to her stomach. What a miracle they’ve created together.

“I have a few ideas. What about you?”

“It’s your decision.”

“Mulder.”

“No, I think you should decide. I’ll veto if it’s something like… Nimrod.”

“Too bad. That was my favorite.” She grins up at him. “I was thinking about all the people we lost. Samantha and Melissa. We could pick something similar to that, to honor them. Or give them a name with no memories attached. Give them a fresh start.”

“They deserve a fresh start.” Mulder kisses her temple.

“All of us do,” Scully says, putting her hand on top of Mulder’s on her stomach. “We’ll know what to call him when we see him.”

“Him?” Mulder asks.

“Or her.”

“You know,” Mulder says, closing his eyes, and letting his imagination take over. “I think our child is going to change the world. Save it even, maybe. They’re going to do great things.” He can see it. Can see their child grow up from baby to child, to teenager and adult. He can’t wait to be there and watch every single step they take. Holding their hand if they need him to.

“I think you’re right, Mulder,” Scully says.

��You hear that, baby?” Mulder presses his ear to her stomach, murmuring the words against the fabric of her shirt. “Your mom just said I’m right.”

#fictober23 #so proud of myself seriously #not the oldest prompt i might add #i was *this* close to writing angst #ohhh and i will #but you get fluff today #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

[fanfoolishness]

Interview with a Fic Writer

Tagged by @novantinuum, thank you!

__

How many works do you have on AO3?

242 works. The actual fuck??? Wow, me. Of course, this does span about 9 years, so I guess that's not that insane?

What’s your total word count on AO3

549,737! But that averages out to only 2271 words per story, haha. You got me! I think I have less than 10 fics that have more than 1 chapter. I love one-shots, what can I say?

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Oh, you want to get into this? All right. We'll get into this:

The X-Files, proto-fandom, ur-fandom, first OTP ever... yeah, 15-year-old me went. WILD. Many horrible Mulder/Scully stories, and some Doggett/Scully and character study stories as well. Mostly not very good, but with occasional flashes of decent writing. Really had a difficult time writing romantic feelings between 30+ year-olds given a) I did not date in high school and b) was 17 and not an emotionally stunted FBI agent.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer - not a huge volume of stories, but definitely some very angsty Spuffy and Spike tales.

Harry Potter - just one published fic (Lupin grieving Sirius), and one with Snape and Harry having a heart to heart I could never quite get right.

Then came the dark times (vet school) where I was exhausted and hard at work for a few years and I thought, horribly, I might have outgrown fandom. Thank god for...

X-Men First Class and the undying love of Charles Xavier and Erik Lensherr! I'd never fallen for a slash ship before but my god I fell hard for this one and wrote my first fandom smut and my first real AU (mutants with zombies) that I never finished.

Then.... let's see...

Quantum Leap drabbles!

Two Avatar the Last Airbender fics!

Agents of SHIELD fics, mostly focused on Coulson and FitzSimmons, and super angsty.

Bioshock Infinite sads (god I love writing the sad bad dad)!

And then the juggernauts of Mass Effect (my longest fic to date with 30 chapters!) and Dragon Age, which were endlessly productive and are still productive given the variety of different protagonists you can create, different choices, and different relationships to canon characters. I'm still working on a Hawke/Varric fic in the back of my mind here.

There's one random Gravity Falls fic (wish I could have got a little more obsessed with it, or gotten into it while it aired) of Stan sads, and one tiny Avengers ficlet of a sad Tony and Peter.

There's one Wheel of Time fic! Dammit I wanted Rand and Tam to reunite so much sooner than they did.

40-odd Steven Universe fics! So many SU fics!

One random Schitt's Creek fic of David and Patrick!

And finally, The Mandalorian, with 47 fics. Phew!!!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. The Invitation, The Mandalorian. Din Djarin finds himself in dreams that seem realer than real, reminding him of his loss, but he begins to find a sense of hope again. A promise is kept.

2. The Outstretched Hand, The Mandalorian. Din Djarin is a man of action, but sometimes, the quiet finds its way in. Din reckons with the aftermath of the events of Chapter 14, the Tragedy. (My very first Mando fic!)

3. Not the Sentimental Type, Steven Universe. Priyanka Maheswaran has long prided herself on keeping her emotions in check. But a mother's love can only grow, and sometimes it expands to people she never anticipated. Like the Universe boy.

4. Translation, The Mandalorian. Din Djarin was a man of few words, but many languages. Some might have thought the Child had no language at all. Din Djarin and the Child grow to understand each other.

5. Full Disclosure, Steven Universe. Just as the world begins to recover from Spinel's attack, Steven starts having nightmares. The more he ignores his fears, the worse they become, until he's left with no other choice but to ask for help. (My thoughts on what would drive Steven Universe Future, and I wasn't far off.)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I really try to! Even sometimes years later if I realize I've missed some. I appreciate each and every one, and have definitely made friendships through comments <3

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Oh, hell... I'm too lazy to link these but if anyone wants to read them let me know or find them on my AO3!

A Stopped Clock from Bioshock Infinite has Booker DeWitt ravaged by Korsakoff's amnesia from his long-standing alcoholism. Is Columbia real or imagined? Hard to say.

The Viscount's Way shows Varric Tethras having become his parent, and a cruel, hard viscount of Kirkwall.

Songs in the Key of Red shows how Cullen fared under the dark future in Redcliffe in DAI, and they write happy endings, don't they? shows what happened to Varric. Both horribly depressing in different ways!

Two by Two, Hands of Blue shows a not unexpected end to lyrium addiction :( Poor Cullen, he got a lot of angsty developments, didn't he?

Do you write crossovers? If so, what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever written?

Never really got into crossovers or AUs. Just... meh for me!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, I don't think so.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Charles/Erik, Shepard/Garrus, Shepard/Liara, Shepard/Tali, a mess of different f/f femShep drabbles, and most of my Dragon Age pairings have gotten sexytimes. On the other hand I helped start the NoRomo Mando tag for the Mandalorian to help find non-pairing Mandalorian content. Depends on the pairing and the fandom, for sure.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope, thank goodness!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I think so! There used to be a Spanish-language wiki linking to some of my old X-Files stories XD

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but friends and I definitely will beta each others' things to help with sticky points.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

ALL-TIME? Just, why? So many ships I loved in years past turned out to have pretty damn problematic elements I didn't see at the time, so it's hard to say... Mulder/Scully actually has a ton of issues, Buffy/Spike obviously has issues... so maybe Hawke/Varric (except not canon!) or Garrus/Shepard or Brosca/Alistair.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Still need to finish my Hawke/Varric fic for after Adamant! I have 3 chapters written that I haven't posted. Maybe posting them will help inspire me....

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and POV writing from different characters; I feel fantastic writing Steven and Greg, though totally at sea trying to write from Connie's POV, randomly. But I think my dialogue and emotional beats are what people tend to tune in for. When I do write romance, it's usually very sweet and silly and pulled from life. I also love writing nature scenes and settings to help establish mood. Mood and emotion and catharsis are my bread and butter, and I like my poetic prose.

What are your writing weaknesses?

What the hell is a long, well-thought-out plot? Like what even is that???? My longest fic with 30 chapters is basically "Shepard has PTSD and hangs out with her crew. They have some funerals." THAT'S IT. How the heck people actually come up with plot that ties into the lore of a fandom I genuinely have no idea and it's the biggest thing that's held me back from finishing original work. I can come up with a setting and characters and then trying to make them do stuff that's more than just talking to other characters and deepening their relationships with them... how the fuck???

I also definitely have 10-20 words that I am in constant danger of reusing like every other paragraph, LOL!

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I don't speak any other languages so I always avoid it as much as possible. I've seen people describe sign differently in fics and picked one way to depict it that made sense to me for Grogu, but that's about it.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The X-Files, of course!

What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Towards Another Day, the tale of how Cullen went from being a templar in Kirkwall to commander of the Inquisition, is definitely up there.

Reverberations is one of my rare multi-chaptered fics and one of my favorite for the catharsis at the end. It makes me tear up every time. 5 times Din and Grogu encounter the Dark Side, and one time they find the Light.

Either a world for the birds (Steven develops a closer relationship with his Uncle Andy, learning birdwatching along the way) or on the subject of rocks (Steven and Jasper finally reach a peace) might take the prize for favorite SU fic.

__

Tagging (if you’re super bored and would like a fun thing to do) fellow writers:

@lastwordbeforetheend, @runrundoyourstuff, @honestlyhufflepuff, @art3mys, and @fake-starwars-fan if you would like to play!

#fandom #writing #on writing #fanfiction #damn look at me go #memes

[debbierhea]

she blames herself

chapter 1 of 2  / wc: 1343 / msr, angst, s10, post-home again

summary: She did not deserve to lose her mother tonight. She didn’t deserve to lose her father or her sister or her children or her dog either. But here she is, a mother without a child and a daughter without a mother, lightly trembling against the headboard of the bed they once shared.

this is the first fic i ever wrote! it got deleted along with my original blog a few years back, so i thought i’d repost for that sweet, sweet validation. this is not a wip. chapter 2 will be posted tomorrow. check out my fic tag if you’d like! xx

She jerks herself from a fitful sleep back into a muddled consciousness. She’s on her back, muscles tensed, jaw clenched. Her hands are balled so tightly into fists that her nails have left deep groves in her palms. She slowly unfurls her cramped fingers to run her hand through disheveled, crimson curls but stops as she brushes the dampness of tears covering her cheeks. Her breathing is labored and she finds it increasingly difficult to allow breath into her lungs. Sitting up, leaning herself roughly against the oak headboard, Scully wraps her arms around herself tightly, anticipating the sobs that will soon be wracking her small frame.

There’s a rustling of sheets beside her and soon she can make out his eyes in the dim moonlight. She can see concern warping his features, making him resemble the young man who stood guard at her hospital bed all those years ago. Scully avoids looking directly at him, knows that seeing the combination of worry and love in his eyes will break her, and she can’t let herself crumble. Not tonight.

“Scully,” he whispers, but she turns her face away. “Scully, please…” He’s pleading with her now. He desperately wants to take away her pain. She did not deserve to lose her mother tonight. She didn’t deserve to lose her father or her sister or her children or her dog either. But here she is, a mother without a child and a daughter without a mother, lightly trembling against the headboard of the bed they once shared. All she has left are two estranged brothers and one estranged friend/partner/lover. He knows he is the root of all of her suffering, but he can’t seem to leave her alone.

The tears are coming faster now, like a river coursing down her fine cheekbones, illuminated in the beams of pale light that slip through the curtains. Her body begins to shake, and she tries to suppress the sobs bubbling up in her throat. Mulder desperately wants to reach out, touch her, wrap her fragile body in his arms and tell her it will all be okay. He uses every last ounce of willpower he has to resist, not wanting to cross the invisible line that was drawn between them when she left over a year ago. He pulls himself up and leans back against the headboard with her, making sure to give her the space she needs to feel in control.

Scully doesn’t speak for a long while; the only sound in the room is her feeble sobs and the sound of the clock, ticking off each passing second.

“She hated me.”

Mulder almost jumps at the rawness of Scully’s voice as she breaks the silence. “What are you talking about?” He asks gently.

“Mom. She–she–,” another round of sobs cuts off her sentence. Her arms are still wrapped firmly around herself, desperately trying to keep the pieces of her from falling apart.

“Scully,” he sighs, “you know that’s not true.”

She drops her head and pulls up her knees so her chin is resting against her chest. Scully’s eyes close and a single tear drips off the end of her nose as she whispers, “You hate me too.”

Mulder jerks his head to look at her. She’s trembling, eyes clamped shut. How could she possibly think that? He wonders. Looking at her, though, he knows she believes what she said is true.

“Scully,” Mulder begins, but she curtly cuts him off.

“Don’t,” she says. There’s a sharp edge to her voice that gnaws at him. He so badly wishes to wipe the tears away that stain her face. He knows he shouldn’t, but he thinks she’s beautiful when she cries.

“Dana.” She startles at the use of her first name and turns her head to meet his eyes before she knows what she’s doing. For the first time since they left the lake where they spread Maggie’s ashes, Scully is actually looking at him and he can see how truly close she is to shattering.

“I could never hate you.” Scully looks as though she will protest this. “Never,” Mulder firmly states.

Scully tears her eyes from Mulder’s and squeezes them shut as new tears threaten to fall. Her hand reaches blindly for Mulder’s in the dark and he meets her halfway, intertwining their fingers. He strokes the back of her hand with his thumb, and, as the minutes pass, the lines of tears criss-crossing her cheeks dry.

Mulder hears her begin to softly sniffle, trying to hide her need for a tissue. He gently squeezes her hand before releasing it, throwing the covers off and rising from the bed. Slipping into the bathroom, he grabs a box of kleenex from the back of the toilet. As he advances towards the bed he can see panic in her bloodshot eyes. She thought it was his turn to leave, that despite what he had just said, perhaps he truly does hate her. Hates her for giving up their son, hates her for leaving. He feels a large lump rise up in his throat.

Hearing him approach, Scully turns towards his side of the bed and as soon as he is settled, she begins inching her way towards his warm body. Mulder immediately opens his arms and allows her to lay her head against his chest. Tissues forgotten, he begins rubbing soothing circles on her back, knowing that she will speak again when she’s ready.

It seems as though hours have passed and Mulder is drifting between wakefulness and sleep when he feels Scully’s soft voice vibrate against his rib cage, “I was a coward, Mulder. And I’m sorry.”

He knows what she means. He knows that she blames herself for giving up their son, for not having the courage to stand by him, to protect him. She blames herself because Mulder isn’t able to know his son. She blames herself because he never got to hear his first word, teach him how to swing a baseball bat, or even see him smile. He knows that she blames herself for everything that went wrong. He also knows that she feels guilty for the precious little time she did get to spend with their son while he was off searching for the truth. His heart aches for Scully, this strong, beautiful woman who was forced to make an impossible decision. Who he forced to make an impossible decision.

“Scully, listen to me. You made the right decision.”

“Mulder…” He can feel her lip quivering against his chest. “I… I threw him away like… like he was garba–”

“No!” And it comes out more aggressively than he intended. The outburst causes her to start folding in on herself again, pulling away from him. He tightens his grip around her waist. “You didn’t. You didn’t treat him like garbage; you protected him, Scully.” Mulder pauses, swallowing hard. “You saved our son.”

He wants to shake her until she believes his words. He wants to kiss her until her guilt is gone. He was to love her until she is whole again.

She shakes her head “no”, rubbing her cheek against his worn cotton shirt. He looks down at her mussed hair and flushed cheeks and can’t stop himself from leaning down and placing a gentle kiss at her hairline. At this, she tenses and then immediately relaxes her body against his. Mulder resumes tracing soothing circles on her back and she sighs.

Mulder realizes that he has allowed her to carry this heavy burden alone. He hadn’t wanted to deal with the emotions and hurt that surround the loss of their son. That’s why she blames herself so completely; that’s why she thinks he hates her. But that stops now, he thinks. This weight will always follow them, a cross they will carry for the rest of their lives. But now they will shoulder it together.

“I love you, Scully.”

Her right hand moves from its resting place on his chest, searching for his left. She intertwines their fingers and squeezes.

#tried editing this but i can't because it is bad but i don't have anything new to post b/c hashtag writer's block so #read this piece i wrote in like. 2016 fjdkslfj god #anyway....... #x files fanfic #xf fanfic #x files fanfiction #msr #mulder x scully #x files #todayinfic #msrlibraryboost #my fic

[frangipanidownunder]

If you have one, what is your favourite trope to write? How many pieces of writing you have begun that you intend to finish? What are some of them about? How often do you write? What non txf are you writing? What was your most difficult piece to write/why? What fic/s (plus links please) are you most proud off. Who is your fav character to write/why? Post a passage (wip or posted) that you’re proud of. What is one thing you learned, through your writing process, you can pass on? Thank you 😘

Hey lovely. This is long, so it’s under a cut.

I think my favourite trope is friends to lovers because you can write it into any genre and throw in a dash of angst or smut too.

I am only have one fanfic WIP at the moment, and that’s the 1930s maid/master AU. I tend to only write one fic at a time. I pretty much only write to prompts so it would be unfair to start a fic for somebody else and not finish it.

In the non-txf world of writing, I have two short stories I’m editing for a competition. They’re both written, but I’m not totally satisfied that they’re ready yet. I will tweak them a little more before submitting. And then I’m starting on the hefty revisions of a YA horror novel I wrote during NaNo last year. That MS started as a few paragraphs in an xf horror workshop I held, then turned it into a short original story, then loved it enough to write a full novel.

The most difficult piece is the current WIP. It’s over 60K words and is historical, has a convoluted plot and requires research to get the details and setting right. I hate it, hahaha. Of my completed stories, Skin Trade was challenging because of its plot and structure.

I’m probably most proud of Skin Trade because it was a huge effort, but there’s not much pay off for casefiles. I wrote a Scully-focused multichap called Scar Tissue focusing on her recovery from the bullet wound in Tithonus that I felt was pretty good. And perhaps the other one that sticks in my mind that I always thought was a strong fic but doesn’t get much love is City of Souls. It’s late season six, the shadow of Fowley hanging over them, and Mulder takes Scully on a macabre drive.

Here’s a passage from the WIP ‘Midnight in the Garden of Dreams’ when Mulder meets Scully: 

The moon was a milky disc in the sky and there was a buzz of gnats at the windows. It was too warm a night to sleep, particularly with his mind whirring still. Led by stars and moonglow, he followed the path around the side of the manor house to where father was making plans for the new car garage. Further away, there was a small brick cottage that had been earmarked for his and Diana’s early years together. She’d already spent many hours telling him her plans to upgrade the building. He’d tuned out because he found the cottage charming. The married servants’ houses were similar in style, albeit smaller and terraced, their rooflines just visible beyond the cottage, limned in the chalky light.

Between his soon-to-be new home and the manor there was a walled area, an old kitchen garden, he recalled, long since unused. The gate was rickety and warped but he pushed hard and it creaked open. The smell was exotic, a heady mix of sweet and spicy and in the dim light he could see there were still plantings in rows. How long had they been here, just growing, life continuing despite neglect?

Bending, he plucked a leaf and rubbed it between his fingers. A minty aroma wafted under his nose. From behind, there was a shuffle. He swung round. Movement. A fleeting figure through the gate. He ran after it. Saw the red hair reflected in the moonlight.

“Wait! Miss, please. Come back.”

The figure slowed, stopped, turned tentatively. It was the maid with the linen. “I meant no harm, Sir.”

The accent, Irish, was unmistakeable. Her shoulders stooped and her hair, loose, fell forward.

“It’s okay, Miss…?”

“Scully,” she said, dipping her body into a curtsey. “Dana Scully, Sir. I’m a maid, but I’ve…”

“Been growing herbs in the walled garden, I can see. Come, I don’t bite, I promise, although, perhaps it is I who shouldn’t be consorting with mysterious red-haired Irish lasses. How do I know you aren’t the dearg-dur?” he said.

“If I were forced into a loveless marriage, I might do a little more than plant a garden.”

Her response surprised him in the best kind of way. “So you won’t suck the blood from my body if I ask you for a guided tour? It’s been a long time since I spent any time here.”

She hesitated, then lifted up her face. He saw a flash of something wild, something that he’d like to tame. He tamped the thought down. The date of the wedding flashed in his mind.

And one thing I’ve learned from writing that perhaps new/emerging writers need to practise is finishing your work. Even if you don’t love it, end it. Then you can revise it. You can’t edit a blank page.

Thanks for the questions, gorgeous.

[atths--twice]

Okay... here is the chapter that, from the moment I decided to write this novel length story, was a key part to it, in my personal opinion. I absolutely adore Rachel and I had this idea in my head for MONTHS before I had the idea for even the most angsty or funny chapters within this story. Rachel is like a bit of me within a character I created. She is a person I wish I had the balls to be at times and I adore her so much. I seriously think about her way more often than I probably should, but I just love her so much. 

I hope you like her as much as I do. I truly hope you do. 

Chapter Eighteen 

Rachel’s Story

Mulder asks Rachel to join him and Mrs. Scully for a thank you dinner, as his therapy has come to an end. Uneasy at first, she agrees and they learn of her past and how it shaped the person she has become. 

December 2015

Christmas decorations had been up since the week before Thanksgiving, and all Mulder could think was that an entire year had passed. A year in which he had not spoken to Scully, not vocally anyway. He wrote her many emails, and she sent him messages, but God, how he missed the sound of her voice.

His therapy sessions were coming to an end and he felt bittersweet about it. He was glad to be done. The times he spent with his emotions out and exposed had been hard. Although, he also had fun. Discussing the past and fun times he and Scully shared, along with the pain they both suffered, was equal parts wonderful and terrifying.

Rachel was the perfect blend of comfort and toughness he needed. She kept him on track, let him ramble, and then opened his eyes to ways he could change. She pushed him to delve further into past hurts and mistakes and how to learn from them. When he clammed up or tried to use humor and sarcasm to answer questions, she shut that shit down.

As the last day approached, he realized she had been right at their first meeting: she was pretty great. He would miss her when he was done, he truly would.

She smiled as he walked into the office and took a seat. Asking if he would like a coffee, she walked to the coffee maker and prepared a mug for each of them. Handing him his, she sat down and picked up her notepad.

“So, it’s our last meeting today. I have to say that I have enjoyed our time together, and I am proud of the progress you have made,” Rachel said with a smile. “I know that it was difficult at times, and you may have wanted to quit, but you stuck with it, and you’ve done really well.”

Mulder nodded and then looked at her and grinned. “Thank you. You’re right, there were times when I wanted to leave, but I knew there were two women counting on me, and I couldn’t let them down,” he said, nodding his head. He raised a hand when he saw her face. “I know. You’ll say it was work I needed to do for me, and you’re right, it was for me. But Doc, it was mostly for the two women in my life whom I’ve let down.” He looked at her, sighed and smiled.

She stared at him and then nodded. Looking down at her notepad and papers, she took out his questionnaire and took a minute to look at it. Moving some of them around, she put one on top.

“I’d like to discuss one last thing with you,” she said, circling something on the paper.

“I’m ready, Doc. Lay it on me,” Mulder said, motioning with hands for her to bring it on.

She smiled at him and then clasped her hands together. “As we are coming to the end of our sessions together, I’d like to know what you’re going to do next?” she asked him, staring at him.

“Next? In the sense of what?” he asked with a frown.

“Yes, next. I don’t mean after you leave here, or tomorrow, but in regard to Scully and how you plan to approach getting her back. What are you doing next, Fox?” Rachel asked softly.

He stared at her, not sure how to answer. During all these months, he had the idea of getting back to them, but now he realized he did not have a plan as to how.

“I ... I honestly don’t know,” he said, looking down at the floor. “I don’t remember answering that question back in March.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she said with a smile. “I couldn’t expect an answer to an ending of something that hadn’t even started yet. So I ask you now, so we can discuss it together.”

He took a drink of his coffee, and put it on the coffee table. Sitting back, he picked up a pillow and held it in his lap. He thought about how best to show Scully he had changed, the darkness no longer swallowing him.

“I think,” he said, looking down at the pillow in his lap. “I think the best thing to do at this point, would be to be on my own.” He looked up to find Rachel staring at him, her eyebrows going up, but saying nothing.

“I don’t mean because I want to be on my own, but I need to be,” he said, looking back at her. “I need to see how I do once I’m done coming here every week. It will be strange at first, but I need to figure that out before I consider how to approach her.”

Rachel nodded and smiled at him. “I think that’s a good plan. What will you do to get yourself on track? Any thoughts on that?”

“I’m going to start exercising again. I actually bought a home gym type thing,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve never really used one before, but I know it will be beneficial. I’m also running and going to the community center again to play basketball with some guys.”

“That’s great. That will help with more than just the physical aspect, getting in shape, and all that. Endorphins can help with depression,” Rachel said, giving him a pointed look. He nodded and smiled.

They chatted comfortably for the rest of the hour and soon it was time to leave. He put the pillow on the couch as he stood up and brought his coffee mug to the sink she had in the corner. He turned to her, and she was standing close to the door. He walked toward her and stopped, smiling at her.

“Well, this is it,” she said as she smiled at him.

“Actually,” he said, suddenly nervous, as he cleared his throat and clenched his jaw. “I was wondering ... I’d like to have you over for dinner on Sunday if you’re free. To thank you and also, it’s Christmas. Get two birds and all that.” He smiled nervously as he watched her clasp and unclasp her hands.

“Uh ... I appreciate the offer, but it’s not exactly ... as a therapist, your therapist ... it wouldn’t be ethical or what I should be doing. It’s ... it’s not ... I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do that, Fox,” she said, her eyes moving quickly across his face.

“Oh.”

“It’s not … don’t misunderstand ... it’s just ...”

“No, I understand.”

“I would love to ... if ...”

“Please, it’s okay.”

They fell silent after speaking over each other, her eyes unable to meet his for a few seconds. He cleared his throat, and she finally looked up.

“I didn’t think,” he said apologetically. “I’m sorry to have put you on the spot and in an awkward position. It’s okay.” He smiled at her, touched her shoulder briefly. and stepped past her to the door. She followed him out of the office and stopped as he put on his coat.

“Fox,” she started, but he interrupted her.

“It’s honestly fine. I’m sorry to have ... I’m sorry,” he put on his scarf and looked at her. “I just ... you won’t technically be my therapist after today. And … I wanted to say more than goodbye, and thank you. It wouldn’t be just you there, if that helps. I wanted to have you and Mrs. Scully come over for dinner. You ... the both of you ... I just ... I just wanted to thank you both. I don’t really know what I would have done without either of you. But, I get it, I do. It’s not ...”

“I’ll be there,” she interrupted, with tears in her eyes.

“You don’t ... seriously it’s fine,” he said, shaking his head.

“No, I will. I just ... could it not be at your house? Maybe a restaurant instead?” she asked, wiping at her eyes.

“How about at Mrs. Scully’s place? It’s a bit of a drive, but not too bad,” he said hopefully. She nodded, and he grinned with a nod. “Great. Good. Okay, so Sunday at five? Or six?”

“Six is good.”

“Okay. I’ll ... I’ll email you the directions to her place,” he stared at her and smiled happily. “Thank you, Rachel.”

She nodded and walked him to the door. He waved to her as he got in the car and drove away. If he had stayed for only one minute longer, he would have seen her cover her face and cry.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Mulder opened the door on Sunday evening to find Rachel on the other side. She was holding a bottle of wine, and she looked a bit nervous.

“Rachel! It’s great to see you! Come in, it’s freezing out there!” he stepped aside to let her come in, and she walked past him as he closed the door.

Mrs. Scully walked into the room at the same moment, and he turned to her with a grin. He put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to Rachel, and introduced them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Mrs. Scully said with a smile, as she held Rachel’s hand in both of hers. “I have heard a lot about you from Fox.”

“And I you,” Rachel said, smiling back at her as she looked between them.

“Here, I’ll take that wine. You hang your coat and take a seat. Dinner will be ready soon,” he said, taking the wine from her and heading back to the kitchen.

“You sure you don’t need any help?” Mrs. Scully asked as he walked away.

“Pfft. I got this,” he said, turning around and opening his hands wide to her. “Have some faith, lady.” He heard them both laughing as he stepped into the kitchen.  

He set the wine down on the counter and reached for the opener. Pouring them each a glass, he took the women theirs and found them on the sofa talking. He handed them their wine and they thanked him as he walked back to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of wine.

He told Mrs. Scully he wanted to have them both to dinner but that Rachel had been uncomfortable. Without asking, she offered her place, and he smiled. He told her he would make the meal and she would not need to worry about anything. She seemed skeptical, her eyebrow going up the same way Scully’s did, and he laughed.

True to his word, he purchased, and then made everything himself. It was going to be a simple meal, but also one he considered carefully. He emailed the directions to the house to Rachel and also asked if she was a vegetarian or had any dietary needs. She emailed back that she was most definitely not a vegetarian, and to please be sure there was something mouthwatering to go with any vegetables. He laughed and set about finding something that would fit that request.

He took down everything on the fridge door, saving Mrs. Scully’s note in a desk drawer, and put up recipes instead. Staring at them for a day, he settled on a roast, potatoes, and carrots. He went to the butcher and got the best advice on how to cook it, and then took all his purchased items to Mrs. Scully’s house. He demanded she get out of the kitchen, despite her willingness to help.

Now, looking at the meal in the oven, it indeed smelled mouthwatering. He could not wait to taste his first attempt at such a meal. A lot was riding on this thank you meal and he was very nervous with the outcome.

He put the salad he made into three fancy salad bowls and set them aside. Five more minutes, and he would take the roast out and let it rest. Turning to the right, he looked at the pink bakery box on the counter. The dessert was the only item he had purchased and not made himself. Although he had attempted to do it, the outcome was not edible.

He would not let Mrs. Scully see what he had bought, and he was excited for her to see he picked her favorite dessert. Rachel’s special thanks was the meal. Mrs. Scully’s would be the dessert.

He looked out of the kitchen and found them laughing about something and he smiled, knowing they would get along. The timer pinged a couple minutes later, and he took the roast from the oven. Setting it on the cooling rack, he took the lid off and took a deep breath. Damn, it looked delicious. Covering it with some foil, he set the timer for twenty minutes and took the salads to the table along with his glass of wine.

“Ladies, if you’re ready, the first course of dinner is ready,” he said with a flourish, and they laughed.

“First course, Fox? My, my,” Mrs. Scully teased, as she and Rachel walked to the table, their drinks in hand. He grinned and waited for them to sit before seating himself.

He set the table with the fancy silverware Mrs. Scully suggested, poured water in each of the glasses she handed him, put out the napkins she pointed to, and lit the candles she mentioned she had in a drawer. It was quite a presentation, and he felt pride at the work they had done together.

“Ladies, a toast,” he said, raising his wine glass. “To both of you. I thank you both immensely.” He looked them in the eye before they all clinked their glasses together. He saw both of them wipe at their eyes, and he nodded.

The salad was praised and eaten before he got up to cut the roast and fill their plates. He brought their food out and then went back for his own plate, grabbing the bottle of wine as well. Both women exclaimed that it was cooked to perfection and tasted delicious. He raised his arms in the air in victory, and they all laughed.

Clearing the plates a bit later, he asked if they wanted dessert, but both refused for now. He nodded and continued to the kitchen to cover the food and make some tea, at Mrs. Scully’s request. Three cups made, he set them on a tray with a saucer. Adding some spoons, sugar, milk, and honey, he brought it to the living room and handed out the cups. They each made their tea how they wanted, and sat quietly for a couple minutes.

“So, Rachel,” Mrs. Scully said with a smile. “Did you always want to be a therapist?”

Rachel laughed softly and shook her head. “No. No, in fact, far from it. I never would have imagined that this would be what I did for a living when I was younger,” she said looking down at her cup in her lap.

“Well, speaking from experience, I can say whatever the other plan was, it was wrong for you. You are a great therapist,” Mulder said looking at her. She looked at him and gave him a small smile.

“So what was the plan? What did your younger self want to do?” Mrs. Scully asked.

Rachel sighed and dropped her head again. “I … uh ... I wanted to be a ballerina,” she said softly. Mulder laughed before he could stop himself and was admonished by Mrs. Scully. Rachel looked up and smiled. “No, it’s completely understandable to laugh at that. I am not the type of person they would want as a ballerina.”

“Oh! No, that’s not why I laughed. I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea,” Mulder said apologetically. “I’ve just never met someone who wanted to be an actual ballerina. I don’t mean you in particular for any reason. Please don’t think that’s what I meant.” She looked at him and smiled, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s okay. I was not the type of person who could be a ballerina, but I wanted it so badly. I begged my mom for lessons. The words plié and jeté made my heart fairly dance on its own,” Rachel said with a smile. “When I was five, she finally relented, and I took my first lesson. I was a head taller and at least twenty fucking pounds heavier than the other girls. Sorry.” She looked at Mrs. Scully with startled eyes, but she waved her concern away.

“Well, I wasn’t terrible at it, but I was bigger and sometimes clumsier. I worked hard at it, and I got better, but I was still bigger. I adhered to a strict diet, and I was in good shape, but ...” she paused for a minute. “My father passed away when I was seventeen and that same year, I was accepted to a ballet academy for three months. It was far from home, but I knew I needed to do it. My father always encouraged my dancing, and I wanted to do it for him. I was still grieving, far from home, and also with a group of girls who were much better than me. Thinner, better dancers, and I associated it with being skinny. I ... I started not eating. I lost twenty pounds during that time and it ... it was bad. I didn’t know how bad it was until I passed out and hit my head as I did.”

Mrs. Scully gasped, and Mulder felt his stomach ache at the thought of her suffering the way she did. She nodded, keeping her head down and her eyes on her cup.

“I … I was able to talk my way out of it, and no one questioned me. As long as I kept fucking dancing. Sorry,” she said again, looking up at Mrs. Scully. She shook her head, her hand at her chest, eyes on Rachel. “I fell twice more and the last time … I lost consciousness and woke up in the hospital and I had no idea how I got there. I had stitches on the back of my head and they had to shave my hair to get to the cut.”

Mrs. Scully was quietly crying, and Mulder was staring at Rachel, unable to believe the story. She licked her lips and sniffled, before wiping at her eyes, and taking a deep breath.

“My mother came in and I could see by her face how horrible I looked. She didn’t say anything, just cried as she stood there. She stroked my hair, and we both started to cry. I was five feet, ten inches tall and I weighed a hundred pounds,” she said with a sob.

Mrs. Scully cried harder, and Mulder cleared his throat. He got up and brought both of them some tissues. They thanked him, and he sat back down. A few minutes passed, and Rachel cleared her throat.

“My mother was insistent that I stop dancing, saying it was slowly killing me. I was angry, but her face was enough to stop me. We’d lost my father, I couldn’t do that to her. She said I needed rehab, for my eating disorder, and I argued with her that I didn’t have a disorder. We sat in silence before she gathered her things and said either I go willingly, and she would visit any chance she could, or she would force me to go, and she would not come to see me,” she wiped her eyes again and took a deep breath. “I chose the former, and she sat back down.” The room was quiet, except for an occasional sniff from all of them.

“It was slow going at the rehab center. There were girls there for different reasons, and some were very angry. We had group sessions and one-on-one sessions. One girl in our group session was hard, angry and didn’t give a fuck about anything. Sorry,” she said, shaking her head and looking at Mrs. Scully again.

“It’s not a fucking problem,” she said quietly, with a wave of her hand, as she wiped her eyes.

“MRS. SCULLY!” Mulder said, his surprise and shock at her language causing them all to laugh. He huffed out a breath and shook his head. “Please continue, Rachel.” He said, looking at Mrs. Scully, as she winked at him with wet eyes.

“Well,” Rachel said, laughing softly and also dabbing at her eyes. “The girl who was in group was a tough nut to crack. The therapist there, her name was Ty, was the coolest. I’ve never seen anyone like her. Nose rings and almost every time I saw her, her hair was a different color. She dressed like she just rolled out of bed and threw on whatever was closest to her when she did. She never took, nor gave any shit, she was tough and yet gentle. She just got it. One day, the girl in group, Lonnie, pushed her, physically pushed her. We all froze, and Ty just stood there. She let her push her, let her hit her and it was like we were in bizarro world. Ty didn’t normally allow that kind of thing to happen. Lonnie yelled and yelled, and Ty let her. We were all crying and then so was Lonnie. She fell into Ty, and Ty held her tightly, whispering to her. She looked at all of us, and we all got up to hug her too. Standing there, with all those other girls who were suffering in their own way, our arms around each other and seeing the results of care and help, I knew I wanted to do that, to be a therapist, and one day help others.” She stopped talking, her head down, and all Mulder could do was stare at her.

Mrs. Scully got up and went over to her. She pulled Rachel to her feet and into a hug. She whispered things Mulder could not hear and then Rachel was crying, holding to Mrs. Scully. He looked away and tried to swallow down the huge lump in his throat.

He saw the similarities between them. Everyone had their own demons. Deciding to face them and move on or let them defeat you, that was life. She helped him the same way her therapist helped her, and he would tell her, he had to tell her. He would let her know how much she had meant to him. Far beyond this simple meal of thanks, he needed her to know. He had cried, broken down, and felt like he would never be better, but she was there and had not given up on him.

Hearing them laugh through their tears, he looked back at them. Mrs. Scully had her hands on Rachel’s face, as they looked into each other’s eyes. She stepped back and excused herself to the bathroom, Mrs. Scully directing her to which was closest.

The bathroom door shut and Mrs. Scully turned to him, reaching for his hands. He took them and she gave a little tug. He stood up, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him tightly. She said nothing, simply held him to her until they heard the toilet flush. She stepped back and patted his chest. He nodded at her and smiled.

Rachel came back into the room, her eyes red, but a shy smile on her face. “So, who wants dessert?” he asked, clapping his hands and grinning, trying to lighten the mood. They both laughed and answered in the affirmative.

Going into the kitchen with the tea tray, he took out three dessert plates and opened the bakery box. He slid out the chocolate mint pie and cut them each a slice, Mrs. Scully’s just a bit larger than the others. He set all the plates on the tray, added three forks, and walked to the table to hand them out.

Setting Mrs. Scully’s down first, he was rewarded with her bright smile and her hand squeezing his, before he handed a slice to Rachel. She smiled at him too, and waited until he sat down to begin eating.

“This is my favorite pie, Fox Mulder,” Mrs. Scully said to him, giving him a look.  

“I am aware of that, Mrs. Scully,” he replied, taking a big bite of his own piece of pie. “Why do you think I bought it?” He winked at her and they both laughed.

“Actually, I tried to make a pie at home, wanting to make the entire meal myself, and uh ... yeah, it was not pretty. I put in too much mint flavoring, the crust stuck to the pan, and it was somehow both chunky and creamy. So, I spared you both the horribleness that was my first attempt at making a pie and bought one instead. You're welcome,” he said, pointing his fork at both of them in turn. They both laughed, Rachel covering her mouth as she did.  

After his confession, no more serious discussion was made while they ate their dessert. Mulder told them about Clyde Bruckman and the Stupendous Yappi, and they both laughed. Rachel shook her head, and he smiled at her. She told them of her first internship and how terrified she was to make a mistake. Over thinking every situation, she got the charts mixed up, and called a man Carol for the whole session, believing it was his name. She felt good at the end of her time with him, until he kindly told her as he left, that his name was Richard. After he walked out the door, she covered her face and laughed until she cried. Mulder and Mrs. Scully both howled with laughter.

After their pie was eaten, Rachel said she should be going. It was a bit of a drive back home, and there was a chance it might snow. Mrs. Scully got up from the table and embraced her, thanking her for coming and for being the one to help him. She closed her eyes and hugged her back.

Mulder walked her to her car, checking the weather as he did. There was definitely the promise of snow in the air. She put on her gloves as she stood by her car door and then looked up at him. He smiled at her and sighed.

“Thank you for the dinner, Fox. I am glad I came and met your Mrs. Scully. She’s an amazing woman,” she said with a smile.  

“She is,” he said with a nod. “Rachel ... this dinner seems so inadequate to the thanks I want to say. You know that I met with other therapists, but they weren’t the right fit. You were the one I needed, the one who wouldn’t let me give up, who wouldn’t take any of my bullshit. You said tonight that Ty was the one who helped you and made you want to help others. Rachel, you need to know how much your help means to me.”

She dropped her head and nodded, quiet aside from some sniffling. She raised her head and looked at him, with tears in her eyes and on her cheeks.

“It ... it was my pleasure. You were worth it, Fox Mulder,” she whispered. He nodded at her and felt tears in his own eyes. She stared at him for a second, before throwing her arms around his neck, quietly crying as she thanked him. He held her tight, whispering his own thanks to her.

She pulled back and squeezed his hand, her gloved one soft and warm in his cold one. Dropping his hand, she got in the car and rolled the window down as she started the engine. She stared at him, a smile on her face, as she shook her head.  

“Show her, Fox. Show your Scully how you’ve changed. Be patient, and show her,” she said kindly. He nodded and put his hands in his pockets. She smiled again, waving at him as she backed up, rolled her window up, and drove away. He watched until her taillights disappeared, before he went back inside, shivering from the cold.  

He found Mrs. Scully in the kitchen cleaning up the mess from dinner. Steering her to the kitchen table, he took over putting away the leftovers, dividing them between him and her, at her insistence, and washing the dishes. She told him how she enjoyed meeting Rachel, and the dinner was wonderful. He grinned at her praise, and she came over to dry the dishes, despite his protests.  

“If I help, we can have time for our own visit, before you need to head home,” she said, and he could not argue with that logic.  

He asked if she would like more tea, or coffee, and she agreed to a bedtime tea. Smiling, he added more water to the kettle, telling her that she and Scully were very similar. She smiled at him and nodded. When the tea was ready, they sat quietly at the dining room table, waiting for it to cool a bit before drinking it.  

“I don’t really know how to begin to tell you how much you have meant to me this last year. All that you have done for me, Mrs. Scully,” he said, before she interrupted with a click of her tongue. He looked at her and she shook her head.

“I told you before, Fox, it’s what family does. Family shows up,” she said with a smile.  

“I know, but ..”

“You’re welcome, Fox. It’s exactly where I needed to be,” she said, touching his hand.  They were quiet again before she spoke up once more.

“I was touched by Rachel’s story, especially the part with her mother,” she said with a glance at him. “Her mother was prepared to take on a hurt if it meant her daughter would be safe and getting the help she needed. It touched home to me, thinking of Dana and William.”

Mulder was quiet, closing his eyes at the mention of William, the one topic that was hardest to discuss. Anytime he and Scully came close to having a real, honest discussion, he would see the look on her face, and it would break his heart. He knew she internalized more than she said, even when it felt she was being completely open. It never went far, her not wanting to reveal too much, and him not wanting to ask more in order to avoid hurting her.

“Mrs. Scully ... Maggie,” he said quietly, opening his eyes and looking into hers, letting the use of her first name touch her the way he knew it would. Her eyes tearing up showed him how much it affected her. “I know there is a desire to discuss William, and I want to, but it ... it hurts more than it heals. He’s gone and ... I don’t know ... we don’t know where he is or even how to find any information about him. Would he ... he wouldn’t even know us. Our appearing in his life ... it would wreak havoc on him ... confuse him. And yet, I know what he means to Dana. Please ... Maggie ... please don’t think that means I don’t love him or care for him, I do . I just ... I’ve had to let him go in my own way. It doesn’t mean I haven’t thought of him and how our lives would have been with a child in it. Birthdays, Christmases, first days of school, random days at home, or sports he may have played. I’ve thought of it all, and it hurts like a son of a bitch, every damn time,” he said, choking back a sob. She reached for his hand, and together they cried for the boy they both missed, and for the life they were all denied.

“Fox, I know that you love him, of course you do, I’ve never thought otherwise,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I know that if you could, for Dana, you would find him. Even if only to know where he is, how he is, I know you would find him for her. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for my girl, Fox, and for that I will love you forever. Perhaps one day, we will find the answers to the questions it hurts too much to ask.”

He stared at her, at this woman who with her mother’s heart, seemed to know his own so well, and he cried. Her arms held him and he heard her tears, as they clung to each other. If he had been a religious man, he would have prayed for strength and guidance, to show him the right path to follow. Instead, he put his faith and hopes into her words.

One day, the questions that hurt so much to ask, would perhaps have an answer.  

One day.

_________________

Note:

As I said, I had this chapter written in my head for months. Months, you guys. Rachel’s story has been super important to me. To show how a person changes to become who they were meant to be and how the past lays way to the future. I wanted her to be a ballerina because it’s something that takes dedication and time and yet it was hurting her. That was similar to Mulder and his need to seek out the truth, but it was dragging him down. I like the way they mirror each other.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. ❤️❤️

#The X Files #XF Fanfic #X Files Novel #Angst #Hurt and Comfort #Sharing the past #Therapy is good for the soul #Ugh I love Rachel so much #Mulder evolving to become S11 Mulder... it is a beautiful thing #I love this show

[heartbreaknow]

Thank you for the meme asks, @aohatsu! Sorry it took me three weeks to finish answering them!

Vampires

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

Just thinking about adding vampires(!) to the MCU makes me cackle. This really ought to be another case of gilding the lily—one too many crazy elements in a story that doesn’t need any more crazy elements than it already has.

But what can I say, vampires are my weakness. I’m always down for some erotic creature-feature blood-thirst and neck chomping.

Also, I wrote an imagine for this trope and it got profoundly out of control, so I’m going to post it separately. Or not at all. But probably separately.

@learned-foot​​, thank you for the asks! Sorry it took me a year and a half to answer them. 😅 Also, this is long, I’m sorry, I don’t expect you to read the whole thing. 

I answered Arranged Marriage over here.

Hate Sex

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

For Starker, I think it would be very difficult to make this trope work for me. You’d have to change the entire nature of their relationship, and a big chunk of the characterization for at least one of them. At which point I probably wouldn’t be super interested anyway, because for me, it wouldn’t feel like Starker anymore.  

I did really enjoy the hatesex trope when I shipped Spuffy as a teenager (the scene where they bring the house down—unnnnf). But they’re the only antagonism-based ship I’ve had, and thus the only ship I’ve had that I associate with this trope.

I do have a huge weakness for fighting-to-fucking, and I could see that trope working for Starker (or just about any ship, really). But fighting-to-fucking and hatesex aren’t really the same thing. (@learned-foot​, one of the first Starker fics you ever wrote had a delicious bit of fighting-to-fucking in it, and that makes so much sense to me now that I know you have a lot of antagonism-based ships, since fighting-to-fucking is basically hatesex for people who love each other.��)

Mpreg

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

Wow, the complicated feelings I have about mpreg. SO. MANY. FEELINGS.

The appeal of mpreg for me is NOT domesticity, parenthood, and nesting. It’s kinking on the loss of body control. Also, breeding kink.

And to think, I’m usually so vanilla. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The problem is, I’m not very interested in my OTPs actually having kids. Plus I get ragey when abortion is treated like a bad option. So basically, I love mpreg occasionally—if the way the trope is written actually plays to my kinks and also dodges all my squicks. But that’s a pretty huge if.

I really should have saved my deeply iddy ABO mpreg idea and posted it here. It’s basically the only mpreg idea I have.

Road Trips, Fake Dating, and Sexting under the cut...

Sexting

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

The problem with sexting, to me, is that I just don’t find the idea of splitting one’s focus between texting and masturbating all that hot. To me, it seems like the most annoying kind of multitasking.

(RTC anon manages to make sexting hot in Revelations, but it’s RTC anon, so go figure.)

One Way I’d Do It:

I think the way I’d do a sexting fic would be to have Peter get unexpectedly wasted and end up sending Tony a flood of sexy texts. Like, he just goes completely off the rails. All inhibition vanishes and an absolute torrent of awkward, pining sexiness pours out. He’s not even trying to sext Tony, per se, he just starts compulsively telling Tony the truth about what’s in his head.

The way I imagine it, Peter accidentally butt-dials Tony while he’s at a party, and Tony hears party noise in the background when he picks up. So then Tony texts Peter to ask how the party is.

They text back and forth a bit, until Dum-E wreaks havoc in the lab, and Tony has to leave to deal with it. But unwittingly (or subconsciously), his final text to Peter is exactly the sort of thing to get Peter all hot and bothered. The words “good boy” may be involved. Those simple words, right there on Peter’s text screen where he can look at them, and read them over and over, and become increasingly fixated as he gets drunker.

An hour or two later, Tony checks his phone and discovers like thirty new texts, all from Peter. At the sight of all those unread texts, there’s suddenly an off feeling in the pit of Tony’s stomach, like missing a stair. He has a bad (hot, sick, anticipatory) feeling about this. He opens the text screen.

Sure enough, after Tony left, Peter’s texts slowly morphed from innocent volleys into—well—into unnervingly guileless declarations of sexual thirst and devotion.

Cut to the aftermath. Peter is crushingly mortified, and assumes Mr Stark won’t want to spend time with him anymore. Meanwhile, Tony tries to kid himself that he’s not hopelessly obsessed with Peter’s texts, even though he can’t bring himself to delete them, and has started thinking about them pretty much every time he jerks off.

Eventually, Peter accidentally discovers that Mr Stark hasn’t deleted a single one of the mortifying texts he sent him, which cues Peter to confront him about it. Which leads to actual sex.

(I might also have it turn out that Peter wasn’t actually just drunk; he was slipped something by someone at the party. But because of his abilities, he had an unexpected reaction to the drug, which is what led to his sexting spree. Tony is starring at Peter’s texts—warring with himself over whether to read the rest of them or blast his phone to dust with a phaser—when suddenly his phone starts ringing. It’s Peter, who slurs down the line, “I don’t feel so good, Mr Stark,” before Tony hears the awful thunk of Peter’s phone dropping from his hand.

So Tony traces Peter’s location and Mach 4s his way over to the party, where Peter has webbed himself in the bathroom before succumbing to whatever he’s been drugged with and passing out. Tony flies him back to the Tower, has him checked out by medical, and then cut to the aftermath.

The idea that Peter is not just drunk but also drugged is more complicated, which is bad, but it’s also whumpier, which is good—and it helps explain Peter’s total loss of inhibition, for anyone who thinks pure drunkenness wouldn’t be enough.)

Also, hah! I’ve finally conceived of a fic concept that wouldn’t necessitate a minimum 50K+ to fill it out! I could actually write this! 🤯

Fake Dating

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

I’ve been a big fan of fake dating for all my past OTPs, but my love of the trope is somewhat dampened for Starker. The problem, as I see it, is that it’s just kind of difficult to find scenarios where it makes sense to have Tony and Peter fake date.

The old standby of “get my family off my back about my love-life” doesn’t work for Starker. The other old standby of “make me look cool in front of my ex” doesn’t work at all for Tony, and doesn’t really jive with how I see Peter. The third old standby of “doing it for a case” is a lot harder to finesse for P/T, because it begs the question: Why Peter and Tony? Why not literally anyone but Peter? Or, if Peter is the linchpin of the entire operation, then why not pair him with literally anyone else besides his 50-year-old mentor?

If Peter and Tony are fake dating for a mission, that mission probably has something to do with a bad guy who abuses young boys or something. And I just find it difficult to enjoy the tropey “omg they have to MAKE OUT now” hotness when they’re neck-deep in sex traffickers or whatever.  

Who was it who wrote the fic where they pretended to be dating in order to protect Peter’s secret identity? That was a really smart way of doing it! But it’s such a specific premise that repeating it might feel kind of like just copying someone else’s work.

So yeah, I like this trope a lot, but I’m not wild about the amount of fiddling it takes to make the trope work for Peter and Tony.

Road Trips

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

I’m into this trope, but I haven’t read much of it, so I don’t have a strong template for it in my mind.

There was a lot of road travel when I shipped Mulder/Scully, but they didn’t really road trip, they just drove to neighboring states for cases. Plus, they always stayed in separate rooms (unless it was a One Bed fic), whereas I’d like to think if Peter and Tony went on a road trip they’d share a room. Separate beds, but one room.

I feel like with Starker, there’s two basic modes for a road trip fic. There’s angsty on-the-lam fic, and there’s impromptu-vacation fic. I’m not really sure what could lead Peter and Tony to taking a road trip together for fun. But then again, I’m also not really sure what could lead to them going on the lam, either.  

I suppose the answer could literally be as simple as: Tony wants to give Peter a fancy graduation gift, and suggests a trip for him and a friend. Tony is thinking something far-flung and expensive. Peter tries to be like, “Really, Mr Stark, it’s fine, you don’t have to do that,” but Tony insists. “C’mon kid, there’s got to be somewhere you’ve always wanted to go.”

Tony sees Peter’s eyes light up with an idea, and Tony is like, “That, right there. What you just thought of, just now. Whatever it is, the answer is yes.”

Peter says it’s nothing, really, he wasn’t thinking of anything, but Tony pries, stressing that he’s not going to say no, that Peter can have anything he wants. Until finally Peter says, with a poorly concealed edge of vulnerability, that he just thinks it would be really cool if they could, like, go on a road trip together. He totally gets that Mr Stark isn’t going to just drop everything and go on some lame road trip with Peter. Peter doesn’t expect him to. It just…seems like it would be really fun.

(And Tony, for all that he is baffled by Peter’s choice, can see that Peter is sincere. This is the one thing Peter really wants. And Tony can’t bring himself to say no—can’t bear to make Peter feel like he’s not worth Tony’s time, only his money. Even though he absolutely should say no, because the thought of that much time spent alone with Peter seems like a bad idea, for reasons he’s trying hard not to think about.)

So Tony looks at Peter, at his open, accepting face, and says, “You really love road trips that much?”

At which Peter blushes, and stutters as he says, “Yeah, yeah I really love road trips a-a lot.”

#ask meme #starker #starker imagines #starker headcanons #peter x tony #fanfic tropes

[mashnotesofthemythopoeic]

Discussion between Penumbra and whalelines during the development of Fathoms Five, with some input from onpaperfirst. Retrieved from a time capsule; difficult to discern who said what.

The sick, angst-loving part of me really warms to this idea. This current of misfortune that runs through the bloodline! For some reason, thinking of it is making me want to read Hamlet again, but I think I'm just in a Shakespeare mood.

Yes, as a reverse-patricide, it's very Shakespearean. I've been in a Shakespeare mood, lately, too. My friend Mary is going to see a very gory Macbeth done next week down at the Shakespearean festival in Ashland, OR, and I wish I could go.

Who knows. In the end, it shouldn't be that hard to simply put herself in the position to steal someone else's death, like Fellig did. Well, then I'd have to ask whether Scully would ever DO such a thing. I mean, she knew what it was like for her, so would she really curse someone else with that immortality, and make them find their own way? (That's more of a rhetorical question than an actual one.) It's such an terrible thing to pass on, though I can't actually imagine her wanting to live forever-- who really would? For Scully, there's no life beyond this one, the here and now, but I just wonder what would finally push her over the edge and make her willing to pass that awful thing on to somebody else.

I don't know. Just spitballin'. Like I said, the answer may lie in physics or time travel. Say William travels back in time and makes sure Scully dies in Fellig's apartment, then Mulder and Scully never get to have twenty years in the love shack, William never gets conceived, and therefore never comes to exist himself. Talk about self-sacrifice. Now, now that's twisted! It'd make a great sequel, though, huh?

At this point, William thinks it's simply a problem of physics, and he's obsessed with solving it that way. Mulder doesn't want to talk about it, mainly because it bothers him that William is giving his life up to an impossible quest. (Sound familiar?) I'm into that idea, actually, but I think you need to have Will do or say ONE thing to make that clear in the story. Maybe I'm just dense, but in the 3x I went over it, I just never considered that that's what all the fuss was about.

What about the 'torch-passing' scene? Okay, I see what you're saying.

The fact that Scully parked William on the buffalo farm seemed to indicate that he was 'normal' or could at least pass as such. Remember, the mobile doesn't move at the end of 'William'. Hm, I guess so. Sarah and I were talking about this last night, actually, and saying that even if the magnetite had fixed those things about him (the mobile moving or whatever alien connection he had), there would probably still be something a little different about him, because consider the blood he comes from, and all the crazy things floating through Mulder and Scully's DNA. I don't know how that would manifest itself, of course, and this story obviously isn't about that, it's just something to think about.

It is definitely something to think about. What did you guys come up with? Scully has that branched DNA, and there's the black oil/anecdote exposure for both of them, miracle chips and miracle ships and junk DNA and whatever else I'm missing. I don't think it's a stretch to hint that the kid has one hell of a head for math and logic.

Yet maybe William isn't 'normal' - notice how he seems to have a cognitive sense that Scully hates the geometric sign he mowed in the lawn  - maybe he's psychic or even still telekenetic  - but keeps it to himself. Maybe it's another of those things Mulder doesn't want to talk about. Remember, Mulder grew up in a family where nothing was talked about.

It's weird - I agree with you that there should be some connection, but I think the ESP thing has been done to death, and something about it annoys me. I wanted to sprinkle the element in there, so that people could pick up on it if they were so inclined. Jesus, I'm becoming Chris Carter! In lieu of that, I just wanted them to be a very close family with a lot of mutual respect and sort of a clannish secrecy. That's their connection. The fact that William's going off to college doesn't mean any of this is going to be less important to him.

Wait-- why did Scully stop aging? She stays looking the age she was when Fellig stole her death, is that it? I dunno, it's probably the writers' fault for making Tithonus vague, in that sense, because clearly Fellig looked somewhat old, and yet someone had taken his death when he was younger, though younger could mean any number of things for someone who lives forever.

They never came out and say how old Fellig was when it happened. There were several major Yellow Fever outbreaks in NYC back around the turn of the century. Remember the photographs of Fellig? He was a regular Dick Clark, and so is Scully.

Why did they ever move to California, anyway? Because it was starting to look weird, back in Massachusetts, people were starting to comment on her looks. I think Will was about 9 or so when they moved. They moved as far as they could get from the east coast, and washed up in California. Scully's mother's in a nursing home in San Diego, I think I forgot to put that in. Bill & Tara are conveniently overseas. Matthew seems oblivious, but he really loves Scully.

She's immortal in the exact sense that Fellig was. Death came for her, and she closed her eyes. Fellig took her death. It seemed the perfect arrangement at the time.

There wasn't time to think about it - plus, when you're shot, all the blood rushes to that spot, and you basically pass out - (which is what happened to Mulder when she shot him in the shoulder.) Remember, Fellig was holding her hand. There was a connection between them. Plus, the bullet had passed through Fellig and into her, so there was some blood transference, meaning whatever you think that might mean. It strikes me that I like Fellig and you don't. You're trying to separate Scully's experience from Fellig's and I'm saying it's the same principle at work. Not that it matters, but of course everyone will take Scully's side. Fellig was deadened and lonely and morbidly depressed, but I felt like he liked Scully. Maybe he didn't think the same thing would happen to her. I don't know think Scully even believed in the longevity thing at that point - Fellig had hid her phone. She was barely conscious, let alone making a life-decision. Agh! My brain!

Mulder is sort of stepping out of the way and acknowledging that this is Scully and William's battle. Possibly William won't figure out how to do it until he's an old man and Scully's 150 years old - who knows - but finding a way for her to die is his main goal in life.

Oh, brother, talk about a sad thought! No wonder Mulder feels closed out of everything, because not only is he not part of the quest to help her die, HE is going to die long before either of them. Oh, god. That makes me want to hug him for a very long time.

I know. He just breaks my heart. He doesn't deserve this. He is so sweet and everyone loves him the most. When he came out and said that thing about Samantha I just sobbed. I had no idea he was going to say it. The kids love him so much. I wrote this story before IWTB came out, and when I saw it I was shocked by how sad that version of Mulder is. I know that's the real version, but in a way this seemed better, despite its latent tragedy.

I'm mired in the idea of "Just SAY it, don't expect people to pick up on it". (That probably has a lot to do with my improv training, incidentally-- the idea of being forced to say every single thing to make it abundantly clear.) It's not a golden rule, of course, and subtlety is certainly appreciated, especially in writing. I just find it hard to shut that part of my brain off, the part that wants to know every single logical detail of what, how, why, when, where, etc. So forgive me! :)

No, this is just because you're emotionally invested in this story. It's natural to want more and more detail - it's because you care. It's the same frustrating feelings you had about TXF, right? I'm happy to see that this story has your attention. It's a good sign, I think.

I love this conversation, too. I worry that I'm becoming obnoxious, but I should embrace that because it's a part of my personality. ;) I'm so glad you let me be part of this process!

You're not in the slightest obnoxious. I'm the one who's taking up all your time. I can't tell you how useful this is, sort of free-styling. I'm working a lot of things out here, and you're the sounding board. We'll get it all ironed out, and then release it on an unsuspecting populace. Mwha ha ha! Send me the quote! Do you have any of your improv stuff you can throw up a clip of? I bet it's hilarious. Okay, goodnight.________________________

<Let me address the biggest point first-- Will is planning to kill Scully?>

Yep. They're both scientists - so, actually, they'll work it out together.

<Also, is Will planning to kill her all on his own, or is this some huge family burden that they're all in together?>

It's a huge family burden. However, it's slowly become obvious that William is the man for the job.

<And if Scully can't die, and William is "normal" from the magnetite (which I...don't know that I buy, but I don't NOT buy it), how is he going to be able to do it? What makes him able to kill her when nothing else can? >

Who knows. In the end, it shouldn't be that hard to simply put herself in the position to steal someone else's death, like Fellig did. She hasn't got to that point yet. At this point, William thinks it's simply a problem of physics, and he's obsessed with solving it that way. Mulder doesn't want to talk about it, mainly because it bothers him that William is giving his life up to an impossible quest. (Sound familiar?)

The fact that Scully parked William on the buffalo farm seemed to indicate that he was 'normal' or could at least pass as such. Remember, the mobile doesn't move at the end of 'William'.

Yet maybe William isn't 'normal' - notice how he seems to have a cognitive sense that Scully hates the geometric sign he mowed in the lawn  - maybe he's psychic or even still telekenetic  - but keeps it to himself. Maybe it's another of those things Mulder doesn't want to talk about. Remember, Mulder grew up in a family where nothing was talked about.

okay, let's see...Scully is 56 but looks 35. Mulder is turning 59 in October. Let's just say that in Hollywood they don't look so mismatched.

She's immortal in the exact sense that Fellig was. Death came for her, and she closed her eyes. Fellig took her death. It seemed the perfect arrangement at the time.

Look at it this way. I was obsessed by the movie 'Castaway', in the sense that time stops for the man on the desert island, while time continues for everyone in the outside world. (There are several desert island references in FF, you'll notice.) Scully is on that desert island.

I wanted to pick up her story at the point when she's beginning to stop living in the moment. She's panicked, she's withdrawing, the walls of glass are coming up between them - she's beginning to see that she's going to watch Mulder die of old age while she remains 35. Who will she love? Who will she fuck? She's not alive, really. She's a non-entity. She doesn't exist, in the normal sense. She just IS. She wants her life back, but she'll only become real again at the moment of death.

Mulder wants William to have the normal life he didn't. You'll notice that he's the more nurturing parent, making William breakfast, etc. However, this whole immortality thing has proven to be something he's failed to find a solution for, whereas William is absolutely intent upon solving it, almost seems born to it. Mulder is sort of stepping out of the way and acknowledging that this is Scully and William's battle. Possibly William won't figure out how to do it until he's an old man and Scully's 150 years old - who knows - but finding a way for her to die is his main goal in life.

It's very much a greek tragedy, isn't it?

2012 is hogwash and you know it. Even in a 1013 sense, it'd be easy to explain away. Maybe the alien rebels have smoothed things out, or won their fight. Maybe it happened, but silently, the way it's been happening the whole time. Maybe it got postponed. All I know is that life goes on, the way it ALWAYS does.

You know, I guess all this deliberate vagueness is annoying, but it's always been my vision for the story. It's the way I want to tell it. You just sort of get this glimpse, and are left to sort things out on your own. However, these conversations with you indicate that I need to slow down and think all of this over, and present it a bit more deftly.

<Something had to have happened to have gotten her on this kick to be thinking about that, because while people told her this in the series, I don't think it was ever something she believed about herself. So I'm not saying it's untrue or wrong, I'm just nosy and want to know WHY! :)>

I see it as a slow accumulation - originally, she didn't believe it, of course. Slowly, it became the horror of never-ending youth. (I love the irony of placing all this near L.A. - the world capital of  never-ending youth.) She and Mulder took her chip out to see what would happen, and that was several years before all this. Nothing happened! She's still young and gorgeous! Some people would totally get off on this, but not Scully. She can't enjoy it for a minute. What is God going to think of her? She's like a mouse in a jar.

<<<At any rate, here he's as normal as a math genius who's planning to kill his own mother can be. Is this a question that will loom large in people's minds?

Unfortunately, I think it is! I don't think anyone will be expecting to see a grown-up Will, so when he does appear, and the alien invasion didn't come, I feel like people are gonna need SOMETHING to be a little off with him, something that gives credence to the supernatural shit in the series, or else it becomes an idealized portrait of family life rather than something that pays homage to some of the problems raised in the series.>> I'll have to think about this a bit more. I could make him a tiny bit supernatural, I guess. I wanted to make him sweet and bright and a little dorky and wearing smelly old shoes and sort of unexceptional at a glance, although he's Mulder and Scully's pride and joy. Someone, I think it was Kel, although I can't find the story now, wrote a story about William and he was this totally hot with-it confident James Bond sort of genius. I wanted William to be normal, maybe going through kind of an awkward stage.  

<She didn't instantaneously heal - it took a couple of days, but since both entrance and exit wounds were hidden she could get away with acting normal. Remember Fellig the day after getting knifed? He was sore, but walking around.

Ehhhhh. I just have to be nit-picky about this, I can't help it. Could she REALLY get away with acting normal? We're not talking about getting knifed here, we're talking about putting a giant gun in your mouth and pulling the trigger. This bullet didn't touch her spinal cord or her cerebellum? Okay, sure, but I'm actually surprised she didn't end up in some kind of coma for a while, or at least hospitalized with grave injuries. I realise the problems that would create to the storyline, so I'm fine with it not happening, i guess, but I just feel like she'd be in a little worse shape than having a squishy head. ;)> We'll work on this a bit more. I think you're right. Remember all those scars on Fellig's wrists? He did have scarring. Scully should keep feeling that awful spot in her soft palate with her tongue. She should have a problem with a little bit of seepage from the back of her head.

<Also, that's an interesting assertation, comparing her immortality to Fellig's, because in my head, they're two completely different animals. Fellig let someone take his place, and for his selfishness in not wanting to die, his immortality became a curse. I think, though Scully views this immortality as a curse (and I think even then, she only considers it that way because she will have to watch everyone and everything she loves die while she has to go on), it is not a curse, but part of a higher purpose which she seems to have been born to fill. What is that purpose? Well, I dunno, that's a big question that I'm not prepared to answer. But I think their reactions, and their bodies' reactions, to near death situations seems to be different. Scully still receives the reactions to her injuries as any normal person does, but she bounces back. Like that time she was shot and Mulder came and told her that the doctors said she healed very quickly from what was meant to be a grave injury. I don't think healing quickly meant overnight, it just meant that they probably expected her to have more complications, but that she was all right.> She was gutshot in 'Tithonus' and healed amazingly fast. 'The fastest recovery they'd ever seen.' But, you're right - she was probably in the hospital a week. If there is a higher purpose to Scully's life - and it's been hinted that she has some divine, Virgin Mary-type qualities - we're not going to discover it in this story.  Maybe there is no purpose. Maybe it just happened, because getting mixed up with Mulder obviously wasn't going to end well. Maybe Clyde Bruckman prefigured it because he prefigured everything. Maybe Fellig wasn't selfish, just trying to survive, like Scully.  

This is a great conversation, Jenn! This is incredibly helpful to me, getting it all out in the open and finding the value points and what works and what doesn't. And what is tolerable and what isn't. And now I'm off to watch a bit of 'Black Books' and then off to bed.

[agentelmo]

Not gonna lie I love Scully but I was a little mad at how she reacted to Karen berquist like the poor woman didn't do anything but having some fondness to Mulder and loving her dogs :(

Ah yes, poor Karen Berquist.  Understanding Scully’s behaviour in Alpha is pretty much the same dealio as what I said regarding Arcadia in another ask recently.

I’m gonna go into unnecessary depth with it though, because why not, right?  I wrote all this crap and realised I probably could have made it shorter but too late - it’s done so I will post it.  Enjoy!

Basically, Scully is in a weird place in her relationship with Mulder in the sixth season.  In the first episode of season 6 - The Beginning - Mulder effectively took back all the things he said to Scully in the Fight the Future hallway scene, and left her behind to go off alien hunting with Diana Fowley.  

To be fair to Mulder (and I fucking hate him in this episode so this is tough for me) Scully was being far too resistant regarding what happened in Fight the Future, and this was incredibly frustrating for Mulder because he saw it with his own eyes.  To him, what he saw was completely undeniable, and so Scully saying the science refutes it - well he’s just not gonna buy that.  I mean, he was inside an alien space ship, and he saw aliens burst out of the walls, he then saw that ship fly over him.  He’s not gonna listen to Scully tell him the lab results came back negative this time.

His frustrated reaction is probably in part driven by a feeling of utter betrayal - the lengths he went to to save her, what he was prepared to do, and he feels she doubts him, doesn’t take his word over her science.  

But as Scully says, he once told her that her science saved him, kept him honest and made him a whole person.  If she changes now it wouldn’t be right.  She needs her proof, and because of that, he feels betrayed; like she doesn’t trust or believe in him.  

So I get it - Mulder was angry at her.  But when Scully points out that Diana might not be on his side, he then said some things he probably regrets in hindsight - he basically compares Scully to Diana, and basically says Diana is better than you because she wouldn’t run around trying to use science to deny the truth.  

That must have cut deeeeeep.  Very deep.  Their relationship takes a complete and utter battering from Mulder here.  Mulder suggests Scully is forcing him to choose between Diana and Scully and I think Scully was smart to avoid making him make a choice, because I would not have put it past Mulder to choose Diana in that moment.

That is until Scully reminds him of why she’s always his MVP.  While he and Diana ran around on a wild goose chase that ended with him having no proof at all, and Diana screwing him over to the FBI, Scully did her sciency-science stuff and got the job fucking done.

The scene ends with Mulder realising that Scully just saved the fucking day, but we don’t hear an apology… If I was Scully in that moment, I would have reminded him again of that hallway scene in Fight the Future.  Because the arsehole needed reminding that even in the darkest moments, they can’t turn their backs on who they are - even if the evidence is right there, glaring, obvious, they still have to hold the proof in their hands for it to matter.  Scully did that.  What did Diana do?  She wrote a report making Mulder sound like a wacko and pulled a gun on him.

Scully really needed to chew him out more for losing faith in her.  Even if it was only briefly… he did lose faith in her, and that’s so freakin’ unforgivable.  I think Scully finds it difficult to come to terms with that fact throughout season 6.  

But wait, we’re not even at Alpha yet, Anon, bare with me!

The shaky, uncertain ground their relationship is teetering on is compounded even further by the events of One Son.  Where Scully feels Mulder trusts Fowley too easily, despite mounting evidence to suggest she’s anything but.  Mulder refuses to see it, so Scully is starting to feel like Mulder trusts Diana over her once again.

Scully enlists the Lone Gunmen to look into Diana to try and prove it to him.  Everything Scully finds points to Diana working with the Syndicate - particularly the main Syndicate guy from Fight the Future - Conrad Strughold.

Who we see isn’t just performing the honey bee modification in the US alone, but also in the middle of the Tunisian desert.

What Scully and the Lone Gunmen discover about Fowley is that all her FBI records have been erased, including all her travel records, which showed she travelled on a WEEKLY basis to Tunisia.

Unfortunately, Mulder and Scully do not know the significance of this, so the dots are left unconnected and Mulder becomes quite defensive about Scully’s accusations.  

Scully ends up saying something very poignant at the end of this scene.  After Mulder accuses her of making this feud with Diana personal (fuck sake Mulder - why do you think that might be HMM?!) Scully says that without the FBI, all she has is personal interest, and if he takes that away from her then she has no reason to help him any more.

So Mulder sees that Scully doesn’t like Diana and thinks that is what is driving Scully, rather than anything actually legitimate.  I wonder if he can entertain for even a moment that Scully’s personal investment is that she’s in love with him? 

That the reason Scully doesn’t like Diana is because she says one thing but does another.  She never has Mulder’s best interest at heart, she’s always about serving her own self interest and serving CSM and the Syndicate.  Yet Mulder repeatedly lets her off the hook because of their history together.  A history that completely clouds his judgement.

Scully is entirely the opposite of Diana when it comes to Mulder.  Scully is willing to put it all on the line.  She would - and has - sacrificed everything for Mulder.  She’s put him first for so long, trusted only him for so long, and what she painfully discovers is that he is not putting her first anymore - he trusts someone else now.  Her years of devotion to him are rewarded like this?  

The poor Lone Gunmen in that scene.  They know exactly what’s going on.

Whether or not he’s able to acknowledge that Scully’s personal feelings for him are what’s driving her, he does realise he can’t ignore her complaints about Fowley this time.  Even though he doesn’t believe Diana is untrustworthy, he is going to have to check it out because he’s getting precariously close to losing Scully. 

While Mulder does choose to listen to Scully in the end, and this quite possibly saves his life, the damage to his relationship with Scully has already been done.

They are both recovering from this throughout season 6… and so we then come to Alpha!

Woo - only took an essay and a half to get here, Anon, but we made it!

After Diana Fowley so easily damaged Mulder and Scully’s relationship by undoing the trust between them, and creating this rift right through Scully’s heart, she is understandably going to be especially sensitive to any new woman appearing on the scene with an interest in Mulder.

She sees straight away that Karen Berquist is enamoured of Mulder, and that her primary reason for bringing him in on the case was to meet him.  Scully sees Karen as a manipulator.  Someone who uses Mulder’s kindness and trust against himself to get what she wants.

I think, to some degree, she’s seeing Diana in Karen.  When Scully says to Mulder that women can be tricksters too, I think she’s talking about Diana as much as she is talking about Karen.

The fact that Mulder dismisses Scully’s intuition about it, probably feels all too familiar too.  But as with Diana, Scully is also right about Karen.  

Karen hadn’t wanted to admit that to herself until Scully smacked her in the face with it, quite brutally.  God, the way she says “I’m watching you”.

She may as well have shouted BACK THE FUCK UP, BITCH! in her face, because that’s basically what this was.

Scully had Karen pegged right from the start.  Saw that Karen was attracted to him, and wanted to meet him.  She even admits it when Scully suggests Karen used to the case to lure Mulder out there.

As much as Scully is sizing up Karen, I think Karen is also sizing up Scully.  “I lack your feminine wiles.”  This is the only hint we get that Karen is perhaps aware of Scully’s feelings for Mulder too.  

In the end though, I think Scully saw some ill intent from Karen that simply wasn’t there.  Poor Karen was just a lonely woman who felt a connection with Mulder and wanted to get closer to him.

I think Scully realises that by the end of the episode because Karen did what Scully always does and what Diana never does, which is put Mulder first.  Karen sent Mulder away knowing the dhole was going to attack her.  She sent him away to protect him.  That kind of thing, Scully can appreciate and probably helped her to see Karen more clearly by the end.

Scully is very harsh in Alpha - her reasons are understandable in the wider context of her slightly crumbling relationship with Mulder though.  The damage done to it by Mulder’s refusal to see Diana for what she is lets people like Karen Berquist get into the cracks and become an irritant - whereas I don’t think Scully would have reacted quite so vehemently if this had been season 4 or season 5 even.

#txf meta

[snickerl]

Blutendes Herz IV

XF fanfiction

Blutendes Herz (Bleeding Heart) is not really a consecutive story but the chapters build upon one another somehow.

Part I can be read here, part II here. Here you will get to part III.

Author's Note: When I was done writing this, I realized that the ending was difficult for shippers to swallow (and I consider myself one) although I tried to give it a positive connotation. So I decided to do with the ending what I did with the opening and I wrote two different possible plots. Therefore, if this closure scenario upsets you, stay tuned for one more installment to come. It will take a different path at the fork our protagonists come across below the cut.

You're sitting on the couch together with your favorite human being. She's pouring you a third cup of tea.

"Thanks for bringing me my favorite tea, Mulder, but you don't have to find excuses every time you come here. Next time, just give me a call when you're in the area and drop by without any of these stupid pretenses."

You scratch the Mexican blanket, the Casablanca DVD, and the funny little porcelain fox she once bought at a garage sale off your mental list. "I hate coming with empty hands, Scully," you reply, not telling her that deep down you're afraid that just you alone is not enough to make your visit worthwhile. That's why you always bring her something she'd left at the house when she moved out.

Just when you started to relax a little, you hear a distinct knock at the door. Your pulse instantly accelerates because of the foreboding sound, whereas she seems to be a picture of calm. "Sounds like Mark. What does he want? When has it become out of style for a man to give a woman a chance to dress properly and freshen up her makeup before he shows up at her doorstep?" she whines, tying her robe tighter. She combs through her hair and rubs her cheeks. You want to tell her that she looks perfect the way she is, that she doesn't need makeup or perfectly styled hair to be beautiful, but you only give her a short, apologetic shrug and sink deeper into the couch cushions, wondering what excuse he might have to drop by at her place just like that.

"Sorry for coming unannounced, my love, but I missed you so much and a man can only wait so long. Impossibly another whole day."

Alright, no pretenses from his side. He's painfully frank about why he's here and his open infatuation is like a cold fist squeezing your heart.

Before Scully is able to reply something, he licks the words off her tongue with a juicy kiss. He shoves her backward into the living-room, his lips glued on hers, maneuvering her to the couch you're sitting on. He obviously plans to engage her in a veritable makeout session, maybe even more, because he clearly wants to plant her flat out on the comfortable piece of furniture. Unfortunately, your long legs are in the way. You try to pull your feet back, but there's not enough space, so you can't prevent him from stumbling over them.

"What the..." he hisses. It takes him a moment to assess what has just happened, but then his facial features morph from utter surprise into boundless fury in a matter of nanoseconds. "You? What the hell are you doing here?" he bellows at you, clearly not pleased at all to see you.

As there is no real justification for you to be here other than that you, like him, simply wanted to see her, and you doubt he would be amused by this one, all you can come up with is the same excuse you gave her earlier.

"I brought Scully a box of tea she forgot at our house." If this feeble attempt to explain your being here wasn't so damn embarrassing, you might have burst into laughter at how ridiculous you sound. But you don't feel like laughing, and neither does he.

"What? You brought her tea? A year after she left you? Are you kidding me?" His voice has become louder with every word. In the end, he's yelling at you.

"Mark," the receiver of the tea intervenes, "would you calm down, please. There's no need to shout like this."

"Who knows how many times I've seen him here? Four, five? And how often has he been here without me even knowing? Huh, Dana?"

"You're not seriously expecting me to give you an account of who I meet with when you're not around, are you?" Her eyes indicate quite clearly that his boring questions are pissing her off. You've never seen her eyebrows melt into her hairline like this, and you've been at the receiving end of her indignation countless times. You're an expert, actually, on what she looks like when she's mad.

Mark is unwavering tough in his current state of anger. "You're entertaining other men in your pajamas when I'm not here, Dana, and it's supposed to leave me cold? Really?"

Your breath is halted. Of course, he doesn't know that Scully in a robe was so common to you even before you became romantically involved that it really is no big deal. Actually, you haven't really noticed she was in her pajamas when you got here until she said she would go change quickly and you told her not to be silly. You saw each other in hospital gowns, nightwear, undergarments, naked more than any other working duo on the planet, so seeing your former spouse in a pair of flannel PJs underneath a thick white terry cloth robe isn't inappropriate one bit. For you, that is. His attitude varies slightly from yours.

"What are you implying here, Mark?" Scully asks tight-lipped, although it's pretty obvious. Regardless that he is miles off target with his suspicions, you feel a pleasant twitch in your groin. An unexpected, yet very pleasant one.

"He's more to you than just a friend, right?"

There, he speaks it out. His voice is weirdly distorted when he draws imaginable quotation marks into the air pronouncing the word 'friend'.

CLOSURE A - Shippers Beware There Be Sea Serpents In These Waters!

It takes you a moment until you fully comprehend what his innuendo is an expression of but then you get it. He fears he's losing her. He really believes you're on a mission to take her away from him, which you aren't, regardless what your best member just told you. All you want at this stage is to be allowed to share her company once in a while, to make her a part of your life again after you had abandoned her so wantonly. Your motives might change someday in the future, but you're true when you're saying that for now, all you want is to have your camaraderie back.

"Mark, let me explain my-" you therefore start but are instantly silenced by him.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Mulder! I haven't asked you, have I? Can I please have a word with my girlfriend without you butting in?"

"Don't do this, Mark," you hear Scully whisper and you offer to go. This is shifting slowly but surely into a serious relationship argument between the two of them. You're a thorn in his side and the reason for him being mad at her, you should vanish as quickly as possible to let them settle this.

"No, Mulder, you stay. We've got nothing to hide. You're my guest and we were having tea, and I don't see any reason why you should leave." She can be stubborn if she wants to make a point.

"You're choosing him over me?" The shock and disbelief in his voice are unmistakable. "Now, that says it all!"

"That says nothing at all! Mulder and I were having tea, nothing more and nothing less. And by the way, you came here unannounced just like he did, only that he was here first. So what makes you believe you are any more entitled to stay than he is?"

"Because I am your boyfriend for starters?"

You can tell he's risking his neck with his careless talk. You know how much Scully hates chauvinistic predominance such as this. You're a bit surprised by this intense eruption of jealousy and possessiveness on Mark's part. Until now, he's always been so laid-back when you were around.

"Are you saying that your being here is more legitimate than Mulder's because we sleep together? Is that where this is going?"

"Yes, exactly," he sputters, obviously quicker than he intended to because as soon as the last syllable has left his mouth, his face contorts into a painful grimace. "No! No, of course, not! All I'm saying is...what I'm trying to say, is...ugh!"

"What? You weren't shy blurting out what was on the tip of your tongue a moment ago, why are you being so reserved all of a sudden?"

Boy, is she pissed. She's eyeing him defiantly, unwilling to yield even a millimeter. Her voice is calm, frighteningly so, but you know this posture of hers: feet hip-width apart, straightened knees, arms crossed in front of her chest, head slightly tilted, chin lifted. Every muscle in her tiny body is strained. She's like a rattlesnake ready to jump at her prey.

Her body language isn't failing to take effect, he realizes he overreacted. "Dammit, Dana," he says in a much softer voice now, completely bereft of the sharpness it bore a few moments ago, "I was simply taken off guard by the two of you cozily spending the afternoon together on your couch. I'm sorry I lashed out at you like this, I had no right to do that. Apologies to you too, Mulder. It was a bit over the top."

You stop him with a shake of your hand. "It's okay. Already forgiven and forgotten."

Scully is also appeased. She resolves her rigid body posture, closes the gap between them and ruffles his hair as if he were a little boy. "That wasn't a bit over the top, Mark, it was completely out of proportion. What has gotten into you?"

"For a second I pictured the two of you having something going on behind my back. I mean, you're in your robe, Dana! I simply saw red," he admits meekly, his raw honesty disarming.

"That's ridiculous, Mark. I would never do something like this."

"Yeah, I know. Now that my pulse is back to normal, I know." He shows her his grim face.

"Men," she sighs, "why do you always have to be so territorial?"

"It's in our genes, Scully," you defend your gender and him along with it, "when we've found our girl, we bite away everyone who comes near her."

"Oh, so you approve of such a behavior?"

"I would've probably reacted the same way."

Definitely. Maybe even worse.

"So you're saying this pathetic urge to stake one's claim is something men can't do anything against, that it's a natural reaction?"

She looks at both of you, waiting for an answer. "In a way, yes," you eventually say and Mark nods his assent with some determination.

Scully rolls her eyes, then pinches the bridge of her nose, a distressed sigh escaping her chest. "I don't believe this," she whispers to herself. "You two hobby biologists realize that I'm a trained medical doctor and very proficient when it comes to the nature of human instincts and impulses?"

"But you're a woman, baby," Mark pipes up, "you don't know what we men feel when a rival steps into our line of vision."

"Mulder is not a rival. How often do I have to tell you, Mark?"

"I get that now, Dana, but that doesn't change the fact that I thought he could be." He's wearing a contrite face, appealing to her with puppy eyes which are in no way less powerful than yours. Maybe, it's a typical male thing, to apply that small boy pattern when trying to soften a woman's heart. "C'mere," he breathes, his voice velvety and silky now. He holds his hand out to her, but she's ignoring it, maybe because she's still a little annoyed by his impulsive reaction. He is not deterred, though. He steps closer, really close, so close she can no longer overlook him. He lifts her chin with a finger to make her eyes meet his, then explains, "my exaggerated reaction is simply a sign of how much I'm in love with you. I'm willing to compete with every guy who dares to lay an eye on you. I don't even care if he carries a gun."

You're not licensed to carry a gun anymore, and as long as you're on psychiatric drugs to fight your depression, you won't be. Too bad, actually. You'd like to see if he'd walk the pompous talk with your Glock pointed at his head. You're somewhat certain those syrupy words speaking of his claim of owning her must annoy her, but to your complete bewilderment instead of rolling her eyes and quirking an eyebrow she smiles at him. You stare at her how her body relaxes into his, how her cheek melts into his hand. She casts her eyes down like a teenage girl being sweet-talked by her first beau. He's definitely struck the right chord with her.

What you see simultaneously amazes and disgusts you. The way she's at peace with herself is wonderful. She seems so content and relaxed. It's just him, Mark, who destroys the picture for you.

You clear your throat and make her jump away from him with it. She puts a hand to her chest and gasps. She'd obviously forgotten you're still in the room. "Sorry," you mumble. You could say that you didn't mean to startle her like this, that your sole intention was to protect yourself from having to see them interact so intimately, but you don't, of course. The time has definitely come for you to leave them alone for whatever they are up to - caressing, kissing, make-up sex.

You swallow down the bile which is rising up your food pipe. It leaves an acid trail behind. You take your eyes off of them by pretending to look at the watch on your wrist. "Oh, is it that late already? I forgot that I have an appointment with my tax accountant," you lie. "Gotta go."

"Oh, okay," is all she replies. "I walk you out."

Sure thing, now she lets you go. She doesn't even tell you to say hi to Mrs. Sanderson, your neighbor, who has been filing both your tax declarations for years. She's simply not with you at the moment, she's focussing on him - her boyfriend, her lover, her whatever - who's still holding her hand. Somehow you wished she would tell you to stay once again, but of course, she doesn't. She wants to be alone with him. If you ever felt like the fifth wheel, it has to be now.

"It's okay, Scully. I show myself out."

You don't look back when you close the door to her apartment behind you. You lean against the wall in the hallway and take a few deep breaths to steady your pulse. You hear them talk to each other inside, the walls are not very thick apparently. Their voices are getting louder for a moment when they pass the front door and then quieter again. You hear the hardwood creak under their feet. Are they on their way to the bedroom? Probably. You hear a girlish giggle and then the closing of a door, the bedroom door. Then there's only silence, and you're thankful for it. It turns the cinema in your head off and lets you take inventory of your emotions.

What are you feeling right now, Fox Mulder? If you leave your hurt pride aside that she's chosen him over you in there, what are you feeling?

To your utter bewilderment, you're doing okay. Your heart is still beating and is not shattered into a million pieces. You're breathing normally and not hyperventilating. You're not sinking to the floor because your legs give way but are standing upright, albeit steadied by the wall behind you. You might be able to survive this, you acknowledge. You might be able to live with the fact that your Scully is with another man. How is that possible? Dr. Summers really must be one hell of a therapist.

You let your feet carry you away. Away from this place, away from her, away from your faint hopes for a revival of the romance between you. But it's okay. You feel capable of dealing with this, of accepting the reality as it is. You will have to find another common ground with her, that will be your new project.

EPILOGUE

"Mr. Mulder," the postman waives at you, "good to see you again. It's been a while."

You've just exited your car to open the gate to your property. You're about to drive downtown to see your therapist. You've been in need of a few extra sessions to deal with the recent developments in your life. Rob, the postman, is filing through the mail in the back of his van to sort out yours. With a few letters in his hand and a small parcel, he comes over to you.

"Here, this is for you, sir."

"Same junk as ever?" you ask.

"This one here looks special. Handwritten address."

He hands you your bulk of mail with said letter on top. You take it and weigh it in your hand. It's been a while since you've received mail like this. The last time it was a birth announcement of a distant cousin's third child. Same thick, sophisticated paper, same calligraphic handwritten address.

You swallow. You recognize the handwriting. It's elegant but unfussy, just like the person it belongs to. You've been expecting this but still, it hits you. It's final now. You will have to talk to Doctor Summers about it today.

"Good news, I hope," Rob says, trying to get some small talk going, but you're not in the mood, although he really is a nice guy.

You point at your wristwatch. "I have to get going, Rob. Excuse me, please. I have an appointment in the city."

"Sure. Just hop into your car and let me close the gate behind you."

"Thank you, and have a good day."

"You too, Mr. Mulder."

You doubt it will be a good day.

You throw the envelope on the passenger seat so carelessly that it skitters down into the messy footwell. You didn't mean to treat it like this, so you bent forward to look for it between all the junk. When you feel the firm paper under your paws, you pull it out and inspect it. Your muddy running shoes have left some of the dirt you'd brought in after your last run on the front. You blow it off and place the envelope on the seat again, with more care this time.

You put the car in drive and hit the road, determined to make to Dr. Summers' practice without any further delay. You concentrate on the road and the car in front of you, trying to take your mind off the envelope, but you can't. It's as if it's whispering to you. 'Open me,' it says, 'you want to, don't you?' So, after another mile or so you pull over, put the car in park, grab the letter and hastily rip the envelope open, tearing right through the curvy letters of your address. You even tear off a corner of the card inside along with it. Well, who cares, you're not going to stick it to your fridge like you did with the birth announcement. You still don't know what you did that for anyway, you never liked that particular cousin very much.

You unfold the card but close your eyes to protect yourself from the words. You hear your therapist's voice in your inner ear. 'Fox,' - she insists to call you by your first name, which is okay for you in her case - 'no denying! Look at what is and deal with it.' So you open your eyes and stare at the letters for a few long moments without blinking until the words blur in front of your burning eyes.

      Dana Katherine Scully & Mark Spencer Finlay

      Joyfully Invite You to Celebrate Their Marriage       Saturday the Twenty Seventh of December Two Thousand and Fourteen       at Five o'Clock in the Afternoon        at The Atrium at Meadowlark Botanical Gardens

      Join us for Cocktails and an Evening of Dining and Dancing

You lean your head against the backrest and swallow. A car passes by at maximum speed and the draft in its wake shakes yours. She told you about the Botanical Gardens and how she would love to hold the reception there. You redirect your eyes to the card in your lap, you know there's more.

Moultrie Courthouse, room 1013, 11 a.m. sharp! is scribbled across the announcement in a stiff, angular hand. Further below, as if written in an afterthought, you recognize the cursive and neat letters you are so familiar with. Thank you so much for doing this for me. Part of me will always belong to you. Love, D.

When she first asked you, you wondered why she was being so cruel. It took you a moment until you understood that she can't do this without you. She needs you to set her free, to release her from what binds her to you. So you agreed to be a witness to her marriage and she fell into your arms and cried. The moment reminded you of when you had agreed to donate sperm for her to become pregnant. Like back then, you were unable to deny her request but also uncertain of what it would do to you. All you instantly knew was that you'd lost her. Not entirely, no, she would still be a part of your life as your friend, your doctor, and - it still makes your heart heavy every time you think of it - as the mother of your child, but you lost her heart in the way it had belonged to you for the past twenty years.

You startle when a tear splashes on the card and smears the blue ink of her words. You thought you'd made your peace with this, but a contradictory mix of emotions settles in your chest.

You're happy for her, you really are. Over the last months, since you rekindled after your separation, you've seen her thrive like a flower that has eventually been watered again after weeks of drought. The rosy color of her cheeks had come back, her hair was shiny again and her eyes were sparkling. She laughed a lot, really laughed, no wry smiles or soft chuckles but wholehearted laughter. You even caught her giggling like a schoolgirl. You know that giggle, you used to elicit it from her in bed a long time ago, in another life. She'd been exuberating carefree easiness and elation with every fiber of her being since she started dating him. She even put on a few pounds with the many times she was taken out to dinner. It made her even more beautiful, something you hadn't believed was even possible.

So, you're happy for her. All you ever wanted for her was to have a life full of normalcy, stability and, most of all, light. Mark Spencer Finlay is able to give her exactly that: light. With him, there's no everpresent darkness, no oppressive silence, no leaden weltschmerz. You remember how she once begged you to take her away from the darkness as far as possible. You'd helped to find a missing FBI agent and your involvement in the gruesome case had threatened to pull the both of you down into the abyss again. You took her to a Carribean island and you spent three wonderful months there, but deep down you knew you would fail her, that the black shadows would follow you. And they did, more fiercely than ever before. So you are happy for her. Really and truly.

But.

Your throat tightens suddenly and your heart starts pounding in your chest. She's going to marry another man! Fuck!

She even told you she'd be taking his name. Jesus, Dana Katherine Finlay!? This person sounds like a stranger to you, like a completely different woman. Will you still be allowed to call her Scully?

You startle once again when your cell is buzzing in your pocket. Since when are you so thin-skinned and jumpy? A look at the caller ID tells you it's her. You take the call, although you're not sure you're in a condition to talk to her.

"Yes?"

"Mulder, it's me." I knew that you could tell her, but you smile instead. At least some things never change. "Where are you?"

Funny how with the invention of the mobile phone the first question asked nowadays is always about the whereabouts of the party called. "In the car."

"Don't answer the phone when you're driving," she admonishes you.

"I'm not driving."

You've pulled over to cry over her wedding invitation.

"Good. Where are you going?"

"My therapist."

"Oh, okay...Uhm, did you get the, uh...the invitation?"

"Yes. I'm holding it in my hand as we speak."

"Are you still okay with it?"

"Define okay."

You hear her inhale deeply before she asks tentatively, "are you still okay with being my witness?"

"Scully, I said I would be your witness to your marriage, so I'm going to be your witness. I won't say that I'm looking forward to watching you marry another man, but I will be there delivering my promise."

"Thank you," she breathes into your ear through the phone and the relief you notice in her voice touches you.

You don't know what more to say and neither does she, so there's silence between you. It should be awkward actually, silence on the phone always is, but not between you.

"Mulder?" she finally resumes the conversation.

"Yes, Scully?"

"Are we going to get through this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Am I going to lose you as my touchstone because of this?"

"Will you still need me as a touchstone?"

"Of course!"

"I take it your husband would like to play that part in your life."

"Mulder, my relationship with Mark is totally different from what we have...had...have. Argh! What we have! And he understands."

"Does he? Are you sure? He's a man, Scully, and men don't like to share their wives with other men."

"I'm nobody's possession. I haven't been yours and I'm not going to be his. We've talked about this, Mulder. I love him for where he's brought me to in my current life. He's pulled me from a place I didn't want to be anymore."

"A place I dragged you to."

"A place I decided to follow you to, but couldn't bear living in anymore at a certain point. But that doesn't mean that I don't cherish having been there with you. My love for you will never die, Mulder. Never. It may have changed, maybe it has regressed into something similar to what I felt for you at the beginning, but it's still there."

"And what were they exactly, Scully, those feelings at the beginning?"

"Connection. Trust. Loyalty. Passion for the same cause. An overwhelming urge to search for the truth with you."

"Folie á Deux?"

She laughs. "Yes, Mulder. A madness shared by two. Nothing else describes our relationship better, don't you think?"

She may be right. Only that you can't think of spending your life with anyone else but her, but then again, she had made your life better, worthier living, whereas you had only darkened hers. She'd given you twenty of the richest years of her life, you have no right to ask for more.

"Mulder?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you go on being my beloved spooky friend?"

"Am I really someone you want in your life, Scully? An unstable, unhinged, unsociable madman?"

"It's your friendship that I want, but only if you want mine too."

You hear her holding her breath in anticipation of your answer. You could tell her that you take whatever you get from her, that the worst that could happen to you would be her walking away from you completely, but you spare her the desperate ring it would have.

"I'd have to look for a new physician and explain my unusual medical history to them."

"Is that all you want me to be? Your physician you see once a year for your medical checkup?"

She didn't get that you were joking. Maybe you sounded a bit too serious. "It was a joke, Scully."

"Oh," she whispers and you hear her stifling a sob.

"Listen, Scully, I will be everything you allow me to be. I will be your friend, your touchstone if needed, your annual patient, maybe even your spooky FBI partner again one day. I will be a witness to your marriage and promise you to keep my mouth shut when the pastor asks if anyone had reasons why the two of you should not be married."

"Mulder, that's an overused dramatic plot device in movies I've never actually heard at one of the several weddings I attended in my life. Besides, there won't be a pastor. We'll be at a courthouse, the ceremony will be held by a judge. We will sign a marriage license and that's it."

"Sounds romantic." You haven't seen Rational Scully for a while, but she sure knows how to keep the mood from getting too sugar-sweet, or god forbids, romantic. "Now don't tell me there won't be a garter auction," you say, trying to sound shocked.

"A garter auction? Are you out of your mind?"

"May I toss rice?"

"To symbolize fertility? At our age? No, thanks!"

"It's also a symbol of prosperity, so I've been told."

"You know how much I rely on superstition when it comes to leading my life, don't you?"

"Sure. So you won't care whose hand is on top when you cut the wedding cake either, right?"

"If you think you'll get a picture of me feeding Mark a slice of a sugar-sweet, multi-tier, buttercream wedding cake, you're mistaken. There will be a variety of miniature cupcakes for dessert and that's it."

If you didn't know her so well, you'd be of the impression that she eliminated everything from the list which makes a wedding memorable. "Will I see you in a wedding dress, at least?"

"The groom is not supposed to know!"

"I'm not the groom."

"Oh...right."

What a delicious Freudian slip! Your heart jumps for joy. In the flow of your banter, she obviously forgot for a second that she will marry someone else and not you.

"I will wear be wearing a wedding dress, yes. Not a white one with all the frills, that would be ridiculous at my age," - of course, a fairytale prince's bride has never been on Rational Scully's bucket list of life dreams - "but I did buy something special for the occasion."

"I can't wait to see it. I bet you will look absolutely stunning."

"I hope Mark will like it."

Now it's your chance to say something nice. "He will love it, of that I'm sure. Even if you showed up in rags, he would be blown away by you. He's a man, Scully, he's in love with you and you will be his bride. Men are simple creatures."

"You're sweet, Mulder. Thank you."

"You're welcome. It will be a wonderful day and don't worry, I will be fine. I will sign your marriage license, I will catch the bouquet, in my humorous speech I will recount some of the weird things we've seen-"

"Don't you dare!"

"-I will have a couple of dry martinis with your mother-in-law and I will end up dancing all night with a hot chick in her mid-twenties."

She laughs. "Just be careful not to overexert yourself, you're far beyond your mid-twenties, Mulder!"

"I age well."

She laughs again. What an enchanting sound. It's worth every effort on your part to make this new thing between the two of you work.

"Hey, Scully. I've got to go. My appointment is to start in about ten minutes. See you at the courthouse on the twenty-seventh. I promise to be on time."

"You better be, unless you want to look for a new physician after all."

Now it's your turn to laugh. "Take care, Scully!"

"You too, Mulder. Drive safely and try to stay within the speed limit. Bye for now."

You end the call with a smile on your face and the certainty that if there's one thing that will never change between you it's the light and easy banter you're both so good at. In this respect, she will always be Scully to you, never Mrs. Mark Finlay.

You hope she tosses you the bouquet.

END

#xf fanfic #sorry shippers #msr in a way #mulder is okay #scully deserves happiness #mark finlay is some lucky guy

[xfilesnews]

FanWorks Wednesdays - ML

by Keva Andersen

We're taking another walk down X-Files fandom memory lane this week with an author who has been a fan of the show since that fateful day in 1993. Meet ML! She's a longtime writer with a fantastic body of work. ML writes with a mix of warmth, angst, humor and insight that's so fitting of our heroes. And with 150 works listed on Gossamer you've got a lot of reading to do.

The show didn't give Mulder much of a chance to rebound after learning about what really happened to Samantha in "Closure"  so ML takes that on in "Land of the Living." Mulder and Scully take some time away to sort things out and maybe, just maybe, finally get the chance to move on.  

I have a major soft spot for Scully angst, and the time when Scully was searching for Mulder in Season 8 always hits me right in the gut. "In the Bleak Midwinter" is a perfect example of that. We know Scully doesn't share her feelings well, and this story set during Christmas with her family makes me want to reach out and hug her. Bonus points for a more human depiction of big brother Bill, as well. 

I remember reading this one over and over when it first appeared on Ephemeral in 2001 and it still resonates today. I won't give away too much but "Age Cannot Wither" is an a/u that deals with "Requiem" and Scully's immortality in a very moving way.

We talked with ML about writing, fandom, and of course The X-Files.

How long have you been a Phile?

Since the Pilot. I’ve always liked science fiction and the premise was intriguing to me. I was hooked from the beginning by the stories. It took me a little longer to warm up to Mulder; I remember feeling a little sorry for Scully at first.

What was your first episode?  

The Pilot

How long have you been writing fic?  

Long ago, I wrote little vignettes for TV shows I liked for my own amusement.  I had no idea that I was writing fanfic. I think the first thing I wrote was inspired by the soap opera “Dark Shadows”. I didn’t even discover that there was such a thing as XF fanfic until S5, I think, when I finally had regular access to a computer. I read avidly for about a year, everything I could get my hands on. Then nearly at the end of S6, I started writing a story that ended up taking years to finish. I did manage to post a vignette for “Requiem” right after it aired, and it was promptly lost in the thousands of wonderful post-ep stories also posted. What a great summer for reading and writing that was!

What inspired you to start writing?  

The Samantha eps: “Sein und Zeit,” and “Closure.” That’s the story that took me years to finish (“Land of the Living” for those who are interested).

Who is your favorite XF character to write? 

I love The Lone Gunmen (and they didn’t die, by the way). I also enjoy taking a secondary character (a guest star, if you will) and doing a story from his or her POV.

Are there any XF characters you dislike or find too difficult to write?

I’m not too crazy about Diana Fowley, though not for the usual reason. I just find her kind of a blank. I’m going to have to tackle one from her POV one of these days. Same with Bill Scully Junior; on the show, he’s just angry, and I admire the authors who have fleshed out his character and made him more “human.”

Is there a story you're most proud of or that's a favorite? 

I love all my children! But I am fond of “Age Cannot Wither” and its sequel, “Nor Custom Stale.” I think they hold up fairly well.

With so many archives to choose from these days, where is the best place to find your work?

Most of my work is available at Gossamer. I will still post any new story on Ephemeral. I have a site that hasn’t been updated for a while:  www.invidiosa.com. I also post now on Dreamwidth, and my name there is ML_Griffonnage. There might be a few stories there that didn’t make it to Gossamer. I haven’t tried AO3 yet, but I’m thinking I may start putting some stories there. If I do, I’ll announce it on Dreamwidth and on any story I post to Ephemeral.

You've been well known in the fandom for a long time, do you still write for XF or have your skills been focused elsewhere?  

XF is the only fandom I’ve ever had the urge to write for. I still have that urge but RL gets in the way a lot more than it used to. I haven’t posted a story for a long time, but I have one in the works right now.

If you do still write XF fic, where does your inspiration come from after so many years?  If you're not, is there anything in particular that caused you to stop writing XF fic?  

I always seem to see something new when I watch XF – I especially like looking at Mulder and Scully through a secondary character’s eyes. Or, something in the news triggers a thought about XF. I stopped for a long time mostly due to lots of changes in my life that left me no time to think, and for me, writing starts with a lot of brain time, and then the words come.

Have you written your own original characters outside of fandom? 

Yes, but unseen by any eyes but my own (and likely to stay that way!)

Anything you’d like to share about your writing process? 

I’ll watch an ep over and over again to find a “hook” or a place to start to get into the story I want to tell. I almost always come up with a title first, which usually ties thematically to what I want to write. Sometimes I’ll hear a word or a phrase that triggers an XF memory or scene, and sometimes that’s all the inspiration I need.

What do you find most difficult about writing?  

Finding the time! As I mentioned above, I need a lot of brain time in order to write. Finding an hour or two to just sit and think, or doodle on a page, is in short supply these days.

Do you have a favorite author? (fanfic or published)  

My favorite authors outside of fandom are Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte. Contemporary authors are folks like Kate Atkinson, Lois McMasters Bujold, Charlaine Harris, Neil Gaiman, and Jim Butcher. Inside of fandom, there are literally too many to list whom I love. I’ve been lucky to become good friends with a few in RL so I’ll give a shout out to Donna, Jacquie LaVa, and Tess.

Is there any advice you'd give to aspiring writers? 

Read anything and everything you can get your hands on, both fanfic and non-fanfic. Write what you love. Ask someone you trust to read and give you feedback. Pay attention to the rules of grammar! Thank your feedbackers. And, be prepared for the characters to sometimes take the story places you hadn’t originally planned… 

Anything else you'd like to share that I missed?

I would just like to say thanks to the folks at X-Files News for keeping the flame alive!

Thanks to ML for chatting with us!

#XFN #Fanworks Wednesdays #Fanfic #fanfiction #The X-Files #XFiles

[baronessblixen]

Just Follow The Instructions

Wrote this yesterday before the Driving Lesson thingy and tada! Posting it today. Set in late season 8; Mulder gets some much needed help from Skinner.

A knock on the door freed Mulder from the horror also known as a Claire de Lune crib for the modern, stylish baby. He let go of the screwdriver, happily, and shuffled into the living room. Scully had been gone less than an hour, but he half expected her to come back and apologize. Or to hear him apologize. Either way, he was certain it could only be her. When he opened the door, a clever remark and a grin on his face, he did not expect to see that particular person.

"Sir." Mulder cleared his throat and wiped the smirk off his face. He searched his mind for an excuse why he was in Scully's apartment while she herself wasn't home.

"Agent Mulder," he shook his head, almost smiled, "Just Mulder I guess. Is Agent Scully home?"

"No, Sir, she's not. I'm just here because, well, she… I-"

"Mulder, it's fine. It's never been my business what you do on your own time and you no longer work for the FBI so I care even less." There was more he wanted to say, Mulder thought, but the moment passed. Not that Mulder was complaining. This was awkward enough.  

"Do you know when she'll be back?"

"After I put up that crib." Mulder grumbled.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm putting up the crib," Mulder explained realizing that this, just like Skinner had said, was none of his business and he probably didn't even care, "for the baby." He specified. Skinner nodded earnestly; Mulder knew that nod, had seen it often enough when he was still assigned to the Assistant Director.

"Her brother sent it," if Scully were home, she'd tell Mulder to shut up, go back into the nursery and pick up the screwdriver again. But Scully wasn't home and there was no one and nothing to stop him, "probably as a 'fuck you, Mulder' knowing I wouldn't let her put it together. It's one of these modern things that comes in one hundred pieces that barely fit together."

"Do you need any help?" Skinner adjusted his glasses, obviously as uneasy as Mulder in that moment. He hadn't meant to say it - that much was clear. Mulder, for once speechless, nodded automatically. He didn't mean to nod. And if he did, he didn't mean for it to be an invitation. Skinner, however, stepped into Scully's apartment taking off his jacket. Mulder stared into the empty hallway; maybe Scully was pulling a prank on him. Eventually, he closed the door and joined Skinner, who stood there completely misplaced in the middle of Scully's living room.

"Uhm, follow me." Mulder made an awkward hand movement and went back to the nursery. They had decided on yellow for the walls and right now, in the middle of the day when the sun was streaming through the windows, Mulder was glad they did. The warm color also distracted from the mess on the ground. Seeing all the loose parts, Mulder wasn't sure it would ever turn into a crib. It made him want to throw it away, run into the nearest shop and buy a new, better and most importantly, already put together crib.

"This is it?" Mulder just nodded. To his greatest surprise (he would have to tell Scully later; if she believed him, that is), Skinner sat down in the middle of the carpeted floor and started looking through the instructions. If someone had told him years ago that he'd ever see Skinner sitting on a carpet full of cartoon cows and farm animals, he'd called them insane. But here they were.

"It's not that difficult, Mulder." Skinner told him, expertly putting together two of the pieces. "You just need to read the instructions."

"I did." He answered through clenched teeth. Except the instructions made no sense to him. Whoever wrote them must hate logic.

"So, uhm, where is Agent Scully? I need to talk to her about something."

"About what?" Skinner looked up at him and it was good to know that he could still intimidate Mulder even while he was putting together a crib.

"I'd rather talk to Agent Scully about that. I'm sure she'll tell you if she thinks it concerns you." Mulder flopped down next to Skinner, pushing away the instructions.

"She asked me to do this simple thing and I, well…"

"It hasn't been either for either of you."

"No, but… we, it's not like – it's-"

"I get it, Mulder."

"Do you?" He stared at his former boss, who he had to admit, was good at this. Mulder wondered briefly if Skinner had ever had any reason to put together a crib, or any kind of furniture.

"I was there, Mulder. I was the one who… lost you. I had to face Scully and tell her. I had to watch her – I think I get it. It's complicated." But it'd always been complicated between them. This new thing, this baby thing that they never really talk about, it was just a new edition of complicated. A much heavier one.

"What if I can't… do it?"

"Well, you obviously can't," Skinner told him while fastening another bolt and Mulder thought he heard a hint of amusement in his voice, "but you've always been like that. I'm sure Agent Scully could have put this together in no time at all." Mulder nods; that much was true. She would have done it, too, had he not started screwing things up. Literally. Both he and Skinner knew, though, that Mulder was not talking about the crib.

"I was an asshole." Mulder admitted.

"That doesn't surprise me." It had obviously surprised Scully, though. Mulder thought of the dark look in her eyes earlier right before she had stormed out. Ever since he'd come back from the dead, he didn't know how to behave around her. Some days he didn't even know how to be. Where did she want him? Did she want him at all in her life? He knew the answer to that even if he pretended he didn't. It was in the way she looked at him (except for earlier today, he reminded himself, and that had been his own fault) and in the way she touched him. Always tentatively as if she was no longer sure she was allowed to. That, too, was his fault. He wanted to touch her, all of her, all the time. But he didn't. The Scully he found when he woke up wasn't the Scully he'd said goodbye to a lifetime ago. The baby was the elephant in the room. He'd glanced at her belly back when he was still in the hospital, barely awake and barely alive, unable to fathom it. His mind had run amok with the implications. The truth had to be slapped into him; Frohike, after a nice, warm hug, had hit his shoulder (who knew this man had that much body strength?) and reminded him not to screw it up. After all these years, he and everyone else should have known him better.

"She'll be back soon," Mulder said as if to himself, "I mean this is her apartment after all." Skinner nodded over the half finished crib. Mulder stared in wonderment; he'd puzzled over this for an hour and Skinner just magically knew how to put the pieces together.

"You better apologize for whatever you did."

"Who says I'm the one who should be apologizing?"

"Mulder, she's pregnant. Whatever happened, it was your fault. She loves you, you know. I know, I know I said I didn't care and it's none of my business but… I've been there when you- and, just apologize to her." As if on cue, a key turned in the front door. Mulder jumped up like an excited puppy and sprinted through the apartment to greet Scully. Her eyes widened in surprise and a moment later, a shy smile played around her lips.

"Hi." She said.

"Hi."

"Listen, Mulder-"

"I'm sorry, Scully," he cut her off and took the bag she was holding from her, "I shouldn't have started this. I shouldn't have pushed you and I should have-"

"Shut up."

"That, too, yeah."

"No, I mean," Scully leaned against him, her big belly preventing more contact between them, "You were right. Just after everything… I didn't know how to react, Mulder. One moment you're distant," she paused; Mulder wondered if by distant she meant dead, but he kept that thought to himself, "and then you ask me to move in with you. Into a house, Mulder. Like normal people."

"We are normal people, Scully. Well, I am. I'm an unemployed shmuck asking his alien baby baby mama to move in with him without ample means to support either. You were right to flee the scene."

"What did you just say?"

"I said you were right and-

"No. Alien baby baby mama?" To his greatest delight, she giggled and ran her hand up and down his chest. Mulder figured he was forgiven and grinned at her in return.

"Well, yeah. That's who you are, isn't it?"

"I guess," she sighed, "Can we talk about this later? This whole moving in together thing? We really need to talk about things, Mulder. Right now we really need to put up the crib, though and I'm exhausted."

"Scully, there is something I need to tell you." He put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her away from him so he could see her face where her smile made room for a worried expression.

"What, Mulder? Don't tell me you tried to do it yourself and it's now broken?"

"Not exactly, no. Uhm, Skinner showed up because he needs to discuss something with you and…"

"And?"

"And he's currently sitting in the nursery putting up our crib."

"You're kidding." Mulder grinned at her. He knew she wouldn't believe it unless she saw it with her own eyes. He put his hand on her back, leading her.

"Just wait til you see it."

#it reads strange #maybe because i wrote this in past tense who knows #i feel like my writing is getting worse? #is that possible? #who knows #msr #xf fanfic #txf fanfic #msr fanfic

[moonprincess92]

14, 22, 24, 25? :)

14. easiest character to write You know out of every fandom I’ve ever written for… I would have to honestly say it’s my boy, Harry Potter. Like, I find Mulder and Scully so difficult, and even Cassian and Jyn aren’t super easy to get into, but I grew up with Harry. I was in his head from the age of 7, and I can relate to him so much that yep, he’s the easiest character I’ve ever written for!! 

22. favorite story you’ve ever written I’m sorry Grace, these answers probably aren’t anything at all your interested in ahahahhahahhha, but the only answer I could have for this is Getting it Right. I wrote it on a whim at the age of 16 and thought no one would read it. SOMEHOW, it became easily my most popular fanfic I’ve ever written with over a thousand comments and to this day, I still have no idea wtf happened hahahaha 

24. favorite scene you’ve ever written AGAIN IM SORRY, but the first thing I ever thought of was a scene from When James Met Libby, a spin-off/sequel to aforementioned GIR. Fred and Emma were a side couple in that fic who are basically Human Disasters, and this scene still makes me crack up to this day: 

“Libby,” I said,calmly. “I do believe that that is not just Emma. That is Emma ona date.”

“Don’t tell me she managedto convince Fred!” Libby said in disbelief, trying to crane over heads.

“No, it doesn’t look likehim – although that is a mighty fine back of a head – BLIMEY!” I suddenlyexclaimed as the bloke in question finally turned this way.“That’s Sebastian!”

“Who, SebastianCortez?” Libby said.

“Exactly! He blatantly liedto me at training today, he said that he had nothing on tonight, thebastard!”

“But what’s Emma doing with him?”Libby said, tugging on my hand once more. “She and Fred split uplike, two weeks ago!”

“Moving on?” Isuggested. “She’s got a right to I guess–”

“Screw that,”Libby snorted. Then, she caught my look and added, “Not the whole movingon thing, of course she’s entitled to. It’s just, she is so inlove with that boy, and you know it.”

I just rolled my eyes. I hadn’ttried to delve too deeply into the crazy insane relationship that was Fred andEmma. Seriously, trying to understand them was fruitless. It had been quite clear that both parties were asequally as gutted as each other … yet they still broke up? WHAT THE HELL, GUYS?! 

I swear, nearly every day since,I’d been getting notes from Fred, claiming that he was totally fineand that there was no point in worrying because there was nothing to worryabout, and did I want to hit up the pub with him later? Parrrrrrrrty!Ahem. I mean, I went since I wasn’t entirely sure whether he was like, sane andstuff. I’m pretty sure the three or four girls he’d picked up that nightweren’t too sure either, but hey! It’s his life. 

Speaking of which.

“OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS!”Fred suddenly yelled.

Oh, Jesus.

Libby and I jumped in shock, spinningaround to where Fred had – somehow – turned up at Café Julio.He was waving frantically from the counter of the café, causing severalcustomers to turn and stare as he enthusiastically bounced up to our table. Imean, honestly, it was coincidence enough that we had ended up atthe same café as Emma! Either Fred was psychic, or I was going to have to havea serious word with him about stalking.

“Fancy seeing you!”Fred was saying cheerfully. He yanked a spare chair away from the nearesttable, forcing Libby to let go of my hand as he drew it up smack in between us.Libby shot him an incredulous look while I just inwardly smacked my forehead.He couldn’t even try and be subtle, could he? “I had noidea you’d be here! Have you guys ordered yet? I just got nachos, I am starving –oh, heeey!” he suddenly reached out, clamping down hard on each of ourshoulders, throwing an extremely strained grin as he added, “Happyanniversary, guyyyyyys!”

“… um, Fred?” Libbysaid, once Fred got his hands back to himself once more. “I mean this inthe nicest way possible … but what the HELL are you doing here?”

“Hanging out with my mates,of course!”

“Yeah, listen mate,”I said, ever so politely. “Like you rightly pointed out, it’s ouranniversary. So no offence, but GOOOOO AWAY.”

“Ah, we just do not get outlike this anymore, do we?” Fred simply ploughed on like he hadn’t evenheard me. I noticed that he shifted his chair slightly to the right so thatEmma’s table was suddenly conveniently in his line of sight. “We shouldall hang out more often! I wonder what the others are all doing – hey, wouldn’tit be cool if they all came here, too?” he added with an excited grin.“What d'you think? It’s a great idea, right? I should give them a call –I’LL GO CALL THEM!” Aaaand he quickly leapt to his feet, running for thecounter once more, yelling, “WAITER! I’d like one phone call,please!”

I think Libby and I were left alittle blindsided.

“… oh dear lord,what just happened?” Libby asked.

“Well, I think – I think–”I paused, holding up a hand for dramatic effect. “–yep! Fred just lostit.”

Out of context it’s probably not funny, but what the hell I posted it anyway, haha!! 

25. favorite line you’ve ever written More than one line, but because I just recently re-read it, this is from one of my rare xf-fics: 

Death is supposed to be peaceful. You can sleep when you’re dead, they say, and it’s a goddamn lie. Death is anything but peaceful.

(fanfic asks)

#thank you for asking me!!! #long post #just in case you have no interest in my weird hp fanfics hahaha

[allyinthekeyofx]

Impossible Choices

Impossible Choices

AllyinthekeyofX

Summary:

Mulder is returned and Scully is offered a choice. But when does a choice become an impossibility? An alternative ending to the show. Seasons 8 + 9 are just a bad dream!  The story is set a few months after Requiem.  

Notes:

I wrote this in anger at how everything turned out and because of a lingering sense that the characters I came to know and love were sold down the river. But the passing of time gave me perspective and a greater appreciation of what came after. So, after sitting on it for 16 years I decided to polish it up and to unleash it finally on an unsuspecting fandom. I still wish that CC had given them an ending they deserved, but they weren’t. I can live with that now. 

One

“Georgetown Memorial. Go there now Agent Scully.”

I blink my eyes in response to the cold, hard voice that rings menacingly in my ear through the telephone handset I have fumbled for in the dark just seconds earlier.

“Who is this?” I demand.

I don’t expect an explanation. I’m just asking out of habit more than anything else. Falling back on my years of investigative training, unconsciously slipping in to the mode of an Agent of the FBI.

“Georgetown Memorial Agent Scully. He’s waiting for you.”

A click as the connection is severed, leaving me half leaning out of the bed as if bringing myself closer to the phone will make the mystery caller miraculously reappear. He doesn’t though, and after a few seconds, the sound of the dialling tone is replaced with a high pitched whine that urges me to replace the handset.

I can’t seem to move though. It’s as though those four words have turned me to stone. I understand their hidden meaning immediately. I’ve been waiting to hear them, every second of every minute of every day for over seven months now. I’ve heard them in my dreams so many times. Been forced from the arms of sleep by the sound of Mulders voice in my head, only to be confronted by an empty room that is darkened by the shadows of night. Darkened by the fact that he isn’t here. I have found myself living my day to day existence hidden behind a wall of steel. Allowing no one to see or understand my innermost feelings. It’s been hard enough just coping with the whispers that follow me along the halls of the Hoover building. Head held high, I have retreated within myself. But it has hurt so much. 

Special Agent Dana Scully MD. Pregnant with Spooky Mulders baby. The fact that he is missing has made little impact on my peers. If anything it has become a great source of amusing speculation for them. With Mulder gone I have finally slipped effortlessly in to the role of Mrs Spooky. A name Tom Colton christened me with so long ago, but one which hadn’t really stuck. Until now that is.

His nameplate still graces the thick hardwood door. His handwriting still categorises the filing cabinets. I have changed very little in the layout of the office. It’s an office I have, these past months, shared with a ghost. The ghost of the man I refused to mourn. So sure was I that he would return. I never stopped believing.

And now, as I stare dumbly at the phone, I realise with a start, that it is finally over.

It’s enough to galvanise me in to action. The extra weight of the baby inside me makes moving quickly difficult at best, but for the first time in weeks, I manage to swing my legs over the side of the bed and get to my feet in one fluid movement. My back protests just for a second but the pain is quickly forgotten as I grab my robe from the hook at the back of the door and exit the bedroom.

Heedless of the lateness of the hour, I hurry over to the sofa where my Mother sleeps, wrapped in a heavy quilt to protect her against the chill winter air. I don’t notice the cold though. Because he’s waiting for me.

“Mom?”

She awakens before I have even closed my mouth. Instantly alert as she struggles in to a sitting position.

“What is it honey? Is it the baby?”

I realise my mistake as her eyes widen in anticipation. She has been here in the apartment with me for almost a week now. Insisting that, as I grew nearer to my due date, that I shouldn’t be alone. Not once did she suggest that I should be the one to move in with her. I didn’t need to explain my motives for remaining here for as long as possible. She just knew. She immediately understood that I needed to be here for when Mulder returned and I loved her for it.

Seeking to reassure her that I am indeed okay I lay a hand on her shoulder and squeeze it gently.

“No, Mom, I’m fine. But I need you to drive me to the hospital. I……..I got a call……and….”

I feel the tears rush to my eyes as I stumble over words that stick in my throat like glue. I’ve waited for this for so long, and now the moment’s here, I can’t bear to acknowledge it. I can’t bear to tempt fate by speaking his name aloud. Because I’m afraid that if I do, I will wake up and realise that this is all a cruel trick of my mind.

But she understands immediately, grasping my hand even as she rises to her feet before me, enveloping me in an awkward hug that calms me immediately.

“It’s Fox isn’t it?”

I can only nod shakily against her shoulder as the tears begin to flow. So much sorrow, so much hope, so much disappointment. I’m not sure I can bear anymore. Not sure I can bear it if this turns out to be a hoax of some kind. But her touch calms me marginally.

“It’s okay sweetie. I’ll get dressed.”

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

Georgetown Memorial Hospital 3:41a.m.

I head through the automatic doors in to the foyer of this vast building. It’s a building I know all too well. Too many visits over the last few years have made it as familiar to me as my own apartment and I skirt around the edges of the humanity which are milling around within its confines in an attempt to get to the admissions desk with as much haste as possible. It’s Sunday morning and the aftermath of Saturday night is still pressing down heavily on the hospital’s resources but despite this, the desk, when I finally reach it, is clear of people.

The nurse behind it raises his eye brows questioningly as I stand before him, his gaze flickering over my burgeoning belly. The fact though that I am seemingly alone, fully dressed and exhibiting all the calm I can muster reassures him immediately that I am not in labour. That my business here is unconnected with the tiny new life I am growing within me.

“Can I help you Ma'am?”

I feel a hand rest gently on the small of my back as my Mother finally caches up with me. With typical practicality, she has been parking the car in the designated long-stay parking area. Like me, she is already sure that one way or the other, this will be a long night. Her presence gives me the courage to open my mouth. Flipping my little used FBI identification out of the pocket of the long, black jacket I wear I hold it in front of him.

“My name is Dana Scully. I have reason to believe that my partner may have been brought in here at sometime during the night.”

The nurse is obviously more in awe of female government Agents than my own work colleagues are because he immediately snaps in to action, tapping a few words in to the computer terminal beside him.

“Okay Agent Scully. I have admissions up now. Can I take the name of your partner please?”

I close my eyes, praying silently to myself even as I feel my baby kick impatiently inside me, almost as though he is urging me to make haste. To take him finally to his father.

“His name is Fox Mulder……….but he may not have been in a condition to give his name. He……….he has been missing for a long time……”

The nurse shakes his head, cutting me off abruptly.

“I’m sorry Agent Scully. No one of that name has been admitted tonight…….it’s been a crazy night though…..I could check descriptions of any John Does though if you wanted….”

I manage to flash him a grateful smile despite the worry that is gnawing away at me.

“Yes, please if you would.”

His fingers fly across the keys once again and out of the peripherals of my vision I see a list of figures flash up on the screen in answer to his query. He doesn’t look up at me as he quickly asks me for basic descriptions. Age, height, approximate weight, hair colour possible nature of injury.

I answer quickly, stumbling over his final question and I have to admit to him that I have no idea. Injury could be as insignificant as a cut finger, as mind numbing as a fatality with every possible scenario in between.

Finally, he looks up at me, smiling reassuringly, no doubt in response to both my condition and the fact that I am now gripping the edge of the admissions desk hard enough to whiten my knuckles. No doubt my face is similarly devoid of color.

“Okay Agent Scully. I have four males who have been admitted to the ER in the past twenty-four hours. Two suffering from gunshot wounds…….I’m sorry, but they were pronounced dead shortly after arrival. The other two - both IC one males in their late thirties/early forties, approximately six feet tall are still in the hospital. One suffering from minor concussion and apparent memory loss is unable to furnish us with his personal details at this time. The other……….”

He frowns suddenly as he skims his eyes over the details on the screen.

“The other was admitted three hours ago. But there must be a glitch in the system somewhere. It says here that he was discovered on a gurney. Unconscious and apparently physically unharmed. No admitting information aside from that……….I’m sorry, if you hold here for a minute I’ll try….”

I raise my hand slightly to cut him off.

“That’s him.” I insist ignoring the way his eyes widen in response to my tone and I realise how it must sound. Of course he has no way of knowing that I have more insight in to this than they can ever imagine in their worst nightmares.

“Could you please tell me where he is?”

He shakes his head apologetically.

“I’m sorry Agent Scully. It’s standard procedure in cases like these to first ascertain some kind of connection between the John Doe and the relative…….I’m sorry, but you don’t fall in to the criteria of relative……now if you could perhaps furnish us with the details of his next of kin so that a proper identif……”

I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Seven months of waiting. Seven months of heart wrenching uncertainty only to be now held up by bureaucratic red tape. But I have a final card hidden deep within my sleeve, one which this eager young man couldn’t possibly have imagined. FBI Agents or not, we have a connection that will slice effortlessly through the bureaucracy.

“If you would care to check Agent Mulders past medical records you will see that as from January 1997 *I* am listed as his next of kin.”

His expression hovers somewhere between a new kind of respect and out and out disbelief. I’m sure he’s heard the same proclamation a hundred times in the past from desperate individuals searching for their loved ones.

“That might take a couple of minutes to check up on Agent Scully. If you’d like to take a seat for a few minutes, I’ll have someone come down and speak to you.”

I follow the direction in which he waves, seeing row upon row of hard, uncomfortable leather backed chairs. No doubt I would be more comfortable standing, especially now that the baby weighs so heavily on my frame, but I don’t want to make waves so I acquiesce and allow my Mother to lead me away from the admissions area.

We sit, not speaking. I’m not sure that I could at this point. Anticipation has stolen my voice from me. My mouth is dry, my head beginning to throb with the suppressed tension that has been threatening to burst free ever since my telephone rang, tearing me from sleep. It was less than an hour ago. It feels like centuries. But I’m okay. I can get through this. I have to. For Mulder I will remain calm. To start shouting now would only delay what needs to be done in order to see him. Out of a desperate need to do something with my hands, I begin to gently trace circles over my belly with my palms, feeling the solid, reassuring presence of my baby’s tiny rump through my taut skin. Like magic, my breathing slowly returns to normal.

I have waited for so long. I can wait another few minutes.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see my Mother’s hand reaching across for mine, but instead of grasping it, she simply covers it with hers, smiling gently at me as she too feels the tiny boy who lays, protected within. Not once in the last seven months has she allowed herself to voice the fears she must surly hold. Fears for what might happen if my stubborn assurances that Mulder would indeed return should prove fruitless. Not once has she berated me for not admitting to the intimate relationship Mulder and I shared in those last weeks before he was taken. Not once has she questioned my choices. Not once. She is of course, in the minority.

My eyes are still locked on to the vision of our two hands caressing my baby when the voice cuts in to my thoughts.

“Agent Scully?”

I get to my feet immediately finding myself face to face with a man that I recognise from so long ago.

“Doctor Daley?” my voice must be bordering on incredulous, because he smiles reassuringly at me. Extending his hand which I grasp briefly.

“It’s good to see you Dana,,,,,I was about to ask how you were…..but I see you are indeed blooming. Literally.”

“Thank you. Doctor Daley……..Can you tell me? Is my partner here?”

He releases my hand. Becoming all business once again. But his expression is troubled. I see it clearly in his eyes.

“I’m not sure Dana. When I received the call a few minutes ago telling me you were here, asking after him, it immediately fell in to place. There had been something bothering me about the way we found him, no admission paperwork, no notes on how he came to be there. Just like you were found….but I confess, I never really thought to make the connection. Five years is a long time in a busy hospital Dana…….it’s been a crazy night and…..”

I shake my head. Waving away his apologies.

“It’s okay. I understand, really I do. But I need to see him. Please. Can you take me to him?”

I am holding on to my composure by just a thread now and I know that if he refuses, I will simply push past him and search this damn hospital until I find what I am looking for. The potential consequences of those actions mean nothing to me. Maybe he sees that, because he nods carefully. But there is caution in his tone as he grasps my arm.

“I’ll take you there Dana. But understand that it might *not* be your partner.”

I swallow heavily. Chasing away the tears that have suddenly gathered in the corners of my eyes.

“It’s him.” I whisper. “It has to be.”

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

Two

Georgetown Memorial Hospital 4:01a.m.

I’m a little surprised when I realise that Daley isn’t actually heading in the direction of the ICU. I guess I had been expecting Mulder to be in pretty bad shape. Certainly needing a level of care that could only be found in that most specialised part of the hospital, but I find myself following him along one of the many standard corridors that house the many patients in need of basic nursing.

“I’m sorry Doctor Daley….”

He stops dead at the sound of my voice. The uncertainty is evident even to me as I hear myself questioning him.

“I thought…..I mean, I was told that my partner was unconscious when he was brought in…..I just assumed he would be in the ICU….”

I can clearly see that it’s on the tip of his tongue to remind me that this man *might* not be Mulder, but he swallows the words and instead tells me what I need to hear.

“Yes that’s right. He was indeed unconscious when discovered. But pulse, respiration and temperature were all normal. The ECG came back clear although it’s too early to ascertain if there are any anomalies in his blood work. His condition hasn’t changed since then. We saw no reason to subject him to the rigours of the ICU unless his condition should worsen. We’re monitoring him carefully and so far it hasn’t.”

His explanation should soothe my fears, but inexplicably just hearing it causes my heart to begin hammering painfully in my chest. I have a terrible feeling about all this. It’s a feeling that has been building from the minute I replaced the receiver in my apartment. Maybe it’s a combination of the numbing fatigue I have been feeling lately and the fact that I so badly need all this to work out *right*. Whatever it is, I am scared. So scared right now that I am tempted to spin around and head right back to where I have left my mother. I had wanted, had *needed* to do this alone and she had remained, ensconced in a small, comfortable room specially put aside to house worried relatives. Now though, I wish more than ever that she was here by my side.

But I don’t. I simply nod slightly and drop my eyes from Daley’s. My action prompts him to continue walking and I try to keep pace as best I can. He is a fairly tall man. Not as tall as Mulder, but even so, his strides are worth two of mine.

Finally, he comes to a halt outside a plain, hardwood door. No different from any other door we have passed during this journey. But of course it *is* different. Because behind this door lays an answer that has the ability to lift me skywards with joy or to plunge me back in to the depths of despair. I’ve been waiting so long for this moment and now it’s finally here, I am almost afraid to discover which one it will be.

There have been so many disappointments. So many journeys like this one. A roller coaster ride of anticipation and disappointment. But this time is different. Something deep within me senses it. If pressed, I couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t explain how I just *know*.

Daley reaches for the door knob, but before he can close his fingers around it I reach out and tug at his arm slightly. He freezes at my touch, but his eyes when they turn to me are clouded with concern.

“Agent Scully?” “I’m sorry. But I need to do this alone.”

He hesitates for just a beat before dropping his hand back to his side. He understands I think. Maybe it’s because of our previous connection. Or maybe he sees the yearning that I am sure is shining in my eyes right now. By allowing me to enter the room of what might be a stranger to me he is breaking Hospital protocol. It’s a fact that hasn’t escaped me. But equally he seems to understand in some small way what I have been through and it prompts him to nod his head slowly, stepping back to allow me access.

I grasp the door knob, the metal cold in my palm but before I turn it I briefly close my eyes. The final step. The final few seconds of waiting. It’s both exquisite and excruciating. But the moment passes quickly and I open the door, stepping over the threshold as I simultaneously open my eyes.

The room itself is shrouded in half light. Dark enough to allow the patient within to remain undisturbed. Bright enough to allow the medical personnel to go about their business. Certainly bright enough for me to see him. The figure on the bed is tall. Eyes closed he appears for all the world as though he is simply sleeping. His breathing is evenly spaced, serene even, his lips slightly parted. Relaxed. But the man on the bed is thin. So painfully thin that I have to look twice to be sure. But then I see it. A glint of gold in the darkness that catches my eye.

The waiting is over. One way or another my desperate search is over. Because it really is him. No more disappointment. He’s been returned to me. In what condition remains to be seen. But he is back and right now I can’t think beyond that.

The image before me blurs and for the first time I am aware of the tears that are streaming down my face. Whether they are of joy or sadness I can’t be sure. Because as I get closer to him I can see what all this has cost him. His dark hair, the same hair I had enjoyed running my fingers through after we made love is now tinged with a smattering of grey. There is evidence of bruising on his face, bruises that, even in the half light, lend an unhealthy tinge to his skin. And he is *thin*. So damn thin. I can see the deep hollows in his cheeks, the way his skin seems to be stretched too tightly across his face. But it doesn’t matter. Because he is there before me. And to me he will always be beautiful.

“Mulder.”

I don’t know why I speak his name. I don’t expect him to respond. But something deep inside me needs to hear it. If only to reassure myself that he is really here. I reach him finally, standing above him, watching my tears fall on to his pale skin until I kneel awkwardly, curling my hand around his as I lower my head to his chest. I hear his heartbeat in my head. Strong and regular it blocks out the sound of my gasping sobs. Until finally, something within me is set free. Something that has held my heart in it’s iron grip for so many long months and I am able to finally cry the tears I have suppressed for so long.

Because he is *here*. Finally I have found him. Finally it’s over.

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

Georgetown Memorial Hospital 9:18a.m.

“Agent Scully?”

The familiar voice pulls me from the arms of sleep and I am immediately aware of a piercing pain that slices across my back when I try to straighten up.

Skinner hovers above me, his face twisted with anxiety as he recognises my discomfort. It’s an expression I have come to both recognise and appreciate in the months since Mulder was taken. Blaming himself needlessly for Mulders abduction, he has remained by my side, supporting me throughout this time. He has become far more than simply my superior agent. Much more than that he has become a trusted friend. I remember vividly the night he came to my apartment. A little over a week after Mulder disappeared, he had returned from making his report to the OPR revue committee that had been hastily assembled in response to happenings in Oregon. Questions had been asked of Skinner. Demands made that he should explain his actions that night. Veiled threats that he would be held solely responsible.

In response to their questioning, Skinner had calmly recounted the details as he saw them. With no regard for his future position within the Bureau he had placed an official stamp on the work of the X-Files department. He had spoken of things that, only weeks ago he would have dismissed as being fantastic, events that would hold him up for ridicule for the remainder of his career. He had laughed bitterly when he had told me that part. I think we both knew that, whatever the outcome of the revue, his career was now effectively over. They hadn’t believed him of course. This assembled group of respected senior agents had dismissed all but the very basic details of his report. Accused him, as they had accused me in the past, of becoming enchanted with Mulders passionate beliefs, of becoming drawn in to a web of misplaced loyalty and an almost comical paranoia that *they* were indeed out there.

Mulder was officially listed as missing, presumed dead by unknown method. No more to add. No more to say. Skinner had come to me that night a broken man after being forced to retract his statement in order to keep his position within the bureau. Weighed down by an all consuming guilt that he had failed us once again. For the second time in the space of a week, I had seen him weep and the bond between us had strengthened never to be broken as I had held him in my arms, whispering assurances that he hadn’t failed. That I understood his reasons. That, more importantly, Mulder would understand his reasons.

He retained his position as Assistant Director if not his reputation, and in doing so, ensured that I kept my own place within the X-Files. He had handpicked me a new partner who I tolerated out of a sense of loyalty towards this man who had risked everything for Mulder and I. He had allowed me to retain my position even when, officially, I should have been on mandatory maternity leave. Perhaps more importantly, he remained the one person who truly understood what I have been through these past long months since Mulder was taken.

So, to look at him as he stands here now seeing the concern for me radiating from him does not surprise me.

In answer to his unspoken question I attempt a smile which I am pretty sure doesn’t quite come off and finally straighten the kinks out of my back sufficiently to sit up. I notice that my hand still covers Mulder’s. That even in sleep I was unwilling to let him go.

“I’m fine.” I assure him. “I don’t think final trimester pregnancy and bedside vigils really complement each other. I’ve been getting a lot of back pain recently that’s all. It’s normal at this stage of pregnancy.”

I feel Skinner’s hand rest gently against the back of my neck, beneath my hair that has grown longer, softer, over the last few months. It’s now almost the same length it was when I first met Mulder. Longer than I have worn it in years. Like a child who relies on silly superstition, I made a decision not to get it cut until Mulder was returned. Stupid really. Even I don’t understand it. I close my eyes against the pressure of his palm on my skin. This simple gesture of concern and protection that causes my breath to catch in my throat. He has slipped effortlessly in to the role of Father figure. Determined not to fail me as he perceives he failed Mulder, he has hovered on the fringes of my life to ensure my constant well being.

“You shouldn’t be here Scully.”

I nod. I know he’s right. I am in no shape to be doing this. Maybe six months ago I could have handled the physical and mental strain of watching over my partner as he lays before me on the bed, but now, with less than two weeks to go until my due date I should be resting. I should be concentrating all my energies on preparing for the birth of my baby. Of Mulders son. Of bringing him safely in to this world. But the advice that the pragmatic, sensible medical doctor part of my brain gives me is currently far outweighed by a much greater need inside of me. It’s a need that comes straight from my heart and one that I refuse to ignore.

“I know” I answer simply, flicking my gaze back to Mulder for a second before I continue. “But I can’t leave him. Not now.”

The pressure against the back of my neck increases slightly and without even looking around, I sense he understands. My belief is only compounded when he immediately switches his attention to Mulder, choosing not to get in to a discussion he knows he won’t win.

“How is he?”

Now there’s a question if ever there was one. I’ve been asking myself that very same question all night and in the cold light of day I am none the wiser. I have endlessly questioned the medical personnel who have drifted in and out of the room during the hours I have been here. Read the charts that hang from the end of the bed so many times I almost know them by heart.

Temperature normal. Pulse normal. Respiration normal. Blood work normal. Brain patterns normal.

Everything about him is so *normal* I could scream with frustration. If there were a reason for this I could accept it. But there is nothing to go on, nowhere to turn. He is slightly dehydrated. Malnourished. But those things are slowly being rectified with the insertion of canulars in his arm that are feeding him a steady dose of high dosage glucose. I’m not sure if it’s my imagination, whether desperate hope is clouding my medical judgement, but it seems to me that just the tiniest hint of color has returned to his skin. But still he sleeps. On and on. Unmoving. His pupils react to light stimulant. His reflexes are alert and active. He flinches slightly when subjected to localised pain. But that is where it ends. I have talked constantly to him throughout the night. I believe he can hear me, can recognise the sound of my voice, and I have told him of our son, my voice breaking as I implore him not to give up. That he has so much to live for now. Maybe he hears me. Maybe he doesn’t. It doesn’t matter. Because I have to believe that he does. But still he continues to sleep.

So I find myself unable to answer Skinner’s question. How can I explain this to him when I can’t explain it to myself. So I just shake my head numbly.

“I don’t know. There is no medical explanation for why he should be like this. All we can do is wait.”

A cloud passes across Skinner’s face and my eyes narrow slightly at the sight. It’s a look I have come to recognise well over the years. It’s the same look he used to unsuccessfully try to hide when confronted with a dilemma in the way he managed Mulder and I. A look that suggested he was wrestling with his conscience over giving us information that might spell disaster for all of us and the sight of it causes a cold shudder to work its way down my spine. I feel like someone has dumped ice water in to my bones.

“What is it?”

He works his mouth slightly, pulling at his lower lip with his teeth as he regards me in front of him. The silence stretches between us, the atmosphere in the room becoming charged, crackling almost as if laden with electricity. I feel the tiny hairs on my arms prickling as gooseflesh chases away my warmth. And I am suddenly scared. So scared of what he is about to say to me. Even more so as his eyes involuntarily drop to settle on my belly. Almost unconsciously my free hand goes there. Fingers spreading as though in an attempt to protect the child within.

“Sir?”

Until finally, he speaks.

“I received a call. About Mulder. About *you*. They…..they want to make a deal.”

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

Three

Georgetown Memorial Hospital 9:06a.m.

My eyes widen as the true meaning of Skinner’s words settle over me like a death sentence. It’s so quiet in here. Only the sound of Mulder’s breathing suggests that there are people in here at all. I don’t think I’m breathing right now. I’m not sure I’ll ever breathe again. Time is standing still. Before me, Skinner remains, his impenetrable gaze is locked with mine as he allows me a moment to process. But how can I possibly process this? I had thought it was over. Have I really allowed myself to become so naive as to think that they were finished with us? That they would allow us to live out the simple pleasures that others take for granted? So stupid. I’ve been so stupid for so long.

“Who?”

My voice is barely above a whisper now and I am sure that under normal circumstances, Skinner would have a hard time catching the single word. But the room is quiet and it cuts through the silence to hang between us like a swirling leaf caught in an autumn breeze. I don’t know why I’m even asking him. I already know the answer.

Admittedly I don’t know their names. These shadowy men who have ruled Mulder and I for so long. The men who have taken away those that we love as though they were simply pawns in a game. The most precious parts of our lives as expendable and insignificant as a fly caught in a trap.

“You know who Dana.”

Skinner drops on to his haunches beside me. His face only bare inches from mine I can feel the warmth of his breath on my skin. His voice is so gentle I could weep. Or scream. Or both.

I close my eyes against the sight of Mulder. And for the first time since I entered this room, I pray that he can’t hear me. Because the thought of him hearing my words that before had comforted me in some small way, now fills me with horror. So I struggle against the fatigue, as I attempt to get to my feet, shrugging off Skinner’s hand as he offers unspoken assistance.

“I can do it myself!”

For a second I feel guilt as hurt briefly flares in his eyes. But I don’t want his help. I hate feeling this weak, this vulnerable. I want to be back to the way I was before all this. I want to be back to laying in Mulders arms as we made whispered plans for the future. Watching him sleep, his face tinged golden by the coming of dawn as he lay in my arms. Comfortable. Safe. *Protected* And for the first time in so many years we had allowed ourselves to believe that somehow, together, we might make everything right again. Like children we had *believed*. And like children, we had come to realise once again that life can never be what we want it to be. That there is always danger lurking around corners. Oh yeah, we had become vulnerable. We had made ourselves vulnerable. Our new found happiness had opened doors for them once again. We should have known. *I* should have known.

I reach across and trace my hand along Mulders jaw line, down his neck until I reach the thin strand of gold that encircles it, fingering the delicate cross that has remained with him through all this. I had been surprised to find it there. If only because the hospital had allowed it to remain. But when I questioned one of the nurses regarding its presence she had simply smiled and shrugged. He had appeared at the hospital with nothing. Naked beneath the blanket that had covered him as he lay on the gurney, they had thought it only appropriate that he should not be severed from the only item that might be a comfort to him. And so they had allowed it to remain. Bright and vibrant against his pale skin.

I lay the cross back down slowly. Arranging it so that it touches the hollow of his throat and slowly, with difficulty, I bend down to press my lips against his own. His lips are dry, chapped, but to me it is the most wonderful feeling in the world. I remain there for as long as I dare. Conscious of both the pain in my back and of Skinners eyes boring in to me. Finally, feeling the tears gathering in my eyes, I straighten up once more. Turning to face my superior I know that my face is set. Determined. Unfeeling. I effortlessly rebuilt my walls. Walls that Mulder had begun to chip away and I wonder now if I will ever let them crumble again.

“Let’s go.”

I pick up my discarded jacket, pulling it on even as I sweep past Skinner. I exit the room without looking back because I know that to look back now would spell disaster.

***********

Arlington Virginia 11:08a.m.

“Why have you brought me here?”

I turn my horrified eyes towards Skinner as he coasts the car to a gentle halt in front of the red brick building I know so well. Following Mulders disappearance I found myself drifting here at odd times of the day and night, drifting through the rooms within his apartment. Inhaling his scent. Consumed with memories as I just sat on his couch, staring in to space. I guess if someone were to push me, I would have to admit that back then, I was suffering from a low grade depression. But no one ever did. I hid it well I think. I doubt even Skinner could have imagined the depths of my despair. He would no doubt be horrified to learn that I had spent many hours here with helpless tears streaming down my face as I was forced to admit to myself that no amount of investigation, no amount of searching was going to bring Mulder back. I played a waiting game. It was all I could do. All they had left me.

But I haven’t been here for weeks. Not really out of choice. There have been nights were I have yearned to make the trip over here, but as my pregnancy progressed I found the simple act of driving more and more difficult. Misplaced pride prevented me from asking my Mother to drive me over here. Not that I thought she wouldn’t understand. I think maybe she would understand better than anyone else, but I didn’t want to admit the need to her that I just wanted to be near to him. In whatever way I could.

So, I have stayed away. Relying on my memories of him to see me through. Until now that is. And despite my need to walk those empty rooms again I don’t want to be here. Not like this. *Never* like this.

Skinner kills the engine and sits for a few seconds, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel lightly. The sound cuts through the silence like a knife.

“I was directed to bring you here.”

I wait for him to elaborate, to explain further. But the silence stretches between us, engulfing the cramped interior of the car and when I can take it no longer I twist angrily in my seat to face him.

“Why here? Why now?”

My voice is harsh, the words ragged and I realise angrily that I am once again dangerously close to tears. Skinner’s expression crumples slightly at my tone and I know that I am wrong to be taking this out on him. He’s become a pawn, just like me. Following orders to stay alive. Allowing himself to used as they have used us all along.

“Don’t you know?” He questions softly.

And I blink, because of course I know. They’ve summoned me here because it is where I will be at my most vulnerable. Surrounded with memories of Mulder I will be more easily manipulated, more willing to agree to their demands. It scares me to realise how well they know me. How well they know us both.

“What do they want?”

Skinner shrugs, dropping his eyes from mine for the barest of seconds. It’s enough to tell me that his next words are a lie.

“I don’t know”

A lie to protect me maybe. To prevent me from directing him to turn the car around and head back to Mulder. My touchstone. The one who I have always relied on to make everything right. Whatever his reasons, I am astute enough to realise that there will be no more information forthcoming. We’ve reached a dead end. Nothing more to say. Nowhere else to go. Everything that has occurred in our lives over the last seven years has been heading to this point. More than ever I am sure of it. All along they have known they would win. That one way or another they would get what they wanted. My baby kicks inside me, the movement causing me to catch my breath as a wave of nausea passes over me and a voice inside my head screams out at me to stop this while I still can. To refuse to follow this thing through. To go far away from this place. To keep my baby safe. The vision of Mulder though is pushing at my heart, crowding the space that has been empty for so long and I pray that I am strong enough to do this thing right. Because deep down I know what they want. I think I have always feared that there will be no happy ending for us. No fairy tale vision of a cosy family inside a warm, safe home.

Oh no. A scenario like that belongs to other people. To *normal* people. But not to us.

So, instead, I square my shoulders as best I can. Preparing myself to confront the unimaginable that I am sure is waiting for me inside that warm brick building. To face my demons this one final time. To confront my fate.

I nod my head, the movement almost imperceptible and lock my eyes with Skinner’s. My voice, when it reaches my ears, seems to belong to someone else.

“I’m ready.”

**********

I use my key to let us in to Mulders apartment. I ignore Skinner’s raised eyebrows as I fit it in to the lock. I think maybe he was expecting me to knock. To request permission before entering. It’s something I absolutely refuse to do. Maybe it’s out of defiance towards the men who have controlled my life for so long. It’s childish I know, but just for a second I feel a sense of satisfaction that they haven’t cowed me completely.

The satisfaction though, is short lived. Replaced quickly by a sense of repulsion so strong it overwhelms me. The vestibule of Mulders apartment is fogged with a hazy layer of acrid blue smoke. It catches the sun’s rays which stream through the window at the opposite end of the room. A swirling haze that assaults my senses and brings tears to my eyes.

And then I see him, rising to his feet in the fog. A shambling figure dressed in a sharply pressed grey suit he smiles benignly at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that reminds me absurdly of the kindly rat in the wind in the willows books from my long ago childhood. But beneath those wrinkled folds of skin his eyes glitter dangerously. Grey, cold, unfeeling they pierce me to my core. He exhales, sending a stream of cigarette smoke in to the already clogged atmosphere.

I’m aware that my mouth has dropped open as I stand there stupidly. Because whatever I was expecting it wasn’t this. Not even in my deepest nightmares could I have imagined I would ever have to face this man again. I was told he was dead. Naively I had believed. Had rejoiced in the passing off this man who has stolen so much from me.

He takes a step forward, then another, coming closer as it becomes obvious to him that I have no intention of moving. And he’s still smiling. Smiling as his gaze rests on my belly. It’s an absurdly paternal expression, and just seeing him causes bile to burn in the back of my throat. He comes to a halt just inches away from me, bringing the cigarette once again to his weathered lips, drawing deeply before exhaling. I want so much to hold his gaze, return his gentle smile with all the hate I can muster. But almost involuntarily, I turn my head away from the deadly poison that streams from his slightly parted mouth. Protecting my baby. The notion seems ironic now.

“Dana. It’s good to see you again. You look well……….or should I say blooming?”

His words snap me sharply back to reality and before I can stop to think of the potential consequences I bring up my right hand and deliver a stinging blow to the side of his face. He barely flinches although anger briefly flares in his eyes. A faint, red blush spreads across his cheek where my hand made contact but he doesn’t falter. He remains there. Standing before me until finally he chuckles. The sound cuts through me like a knife and it scares me to know that if I were carrying my gun I would have no compunction in pulling it out and blowing a hole straight through the bastard’s eyes.

“Not exactly the welcome I was hoping for.” He offers, his tone tinged with a trace of the anger I had recognised briefly.

It’s mingled though with such condescension that I find myself clenching my fists by my side in an effort not to strike him again. Only the feel of Skinner’s hands that settle on my shoulders prevent me.

“It’s okay Scully. It’s okay.”

I shake my head numbly.

*Okay?* How is anything ever going to be *okay* ever again? It’s unthinkable that this is heading anywhere other than towards heartbreak. Surly he knows enough to realise that.

The smoking man chuckles once again.

“Well, well, it would appear that the two of you have become rather closer than we envisaged. I’m surprised at you Dana. What would Agent Mulder think?”

This time, it is Skinner who stiffens. I feel his fingers dig in to the skin of my shoulders. Pain flares briefly as he attempts to hold on to his composure. Later on I will undress and see the evidence of his anger in the form of perfectly formed bruises. But right now I barely acknowledge it.

“What do you want?”

I am more than a little surprised when I hear my voice. It comes out strong. Steady. determined. I have no idea where I am drawing this facade of calm from. Because I am as tense as a tightly coiled spring. Ready to shatter in to a million pieces right in front of him.

He gestures his hand towards the living room he so recently vacated.

“Let’s sit shall we?”

I hold my head up high. Attempting to grow in stature. To bring myself more on a level with him, folding my arms across my chest as I sweep past him with all the grace I can muster. Grace doesn’t come easily now. Not now I am so weighed down by the final stages of pregnancy, but for once I am able to retain my posture. Ramrod straight I swing around to face him once more.

“I’d rather stand.”

He shrugs.

“As you wish Dana. I hope though that you’ll forgive me if I take my own advice. Agent Mulders couch is…..comfortable. But then you already know that don’t you?”

And then it hits me. Like a bolt from the blue I understand. He knows *everything*. He is privy to the most personal aspects of my life. He has known from the very beginning when Mulder and I finally answered the need inside of us to turn to each other. Did they watch us through impassive eyes on grainy, low resolution surveillance tapes? Listen to the murmured words we had shared during lovemaking? Reducing our love in to something sordid. Rejoicing at the fact that they had found something else to use against us. The thought sickens me. It sickens me to think that they have known all along.

He watches me shrewdly as the emotions course through me even as I try my hardest to cloak them from him. Refusing even now to let him take anything more from me.

“What do you want?”

I finally throw the demand at him. Anticipation at his answer already prompting a light tremor to run through my body. But instead of answering, his eyes take on a far away look. When finally I think I can bear it no longer, he begins to speak softly.

“It was never meant to happen this way Dana. Like so many things in life it didn’t turn out the way we planned. Another one of life’s ironies. So many ironies don’t you think? We planned so carefully but once again Mulder prevailed, thwarting our efforts unknowingly.”

I shake my head. He isn’t making sense to me.

“I don’t understand.”

“No. But then you wouldn’t. I barely understand it myself. The power we wield has long been a mystery to me. I am a small part in a much larger plan Dana. Smaller than you can ever imagine…”

I cut him off then. Throwing cheap insults that provide nothing other than a brief feeling of satisfaction.

“I’ve never imagined you to be anything other than *small.* Don’t flatter yourself.”

He smiles at my embittered words.

“You still have fire Dana. I admire you for that. I always have…..it’s why we partnered you with Mulder. Even back then we knew that we had made the right choice. Of course it took a little longer than we anticipated for you both to come to recognise the need between you we had always hoped for. But we were content to wait. Ultimately, you didn’t disappoint us.”

“What? What are you talking about?!”

To the side of me I see Skinner shift his position slightly. Obviously uncomfortable as to where this is leading and *then* I understand. He knows. He’s always known. The betrayal I feel is so acute that I am having difficulty remaining in a standing position. But I won’t crumble. Not now. I will see this through to the bitter end.

“Don’t you see? Don’t you *understand* yet? Pairing you with Mulder was carefully orchestrated. We needed someone with whom he would feel he had found a kindred spirit. Someone he would learn to trust….learn to love. Someone he would gladly give his life for. As I said, it took a little longer than we envisaged. But eventually our patience was rewarded.”

His eyes drop once more to my belly.

“In more ways than one, we were rewarded.”

Pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes, he pauses as he fits one between his lips. Watching as he thumbs his lighter in to life I find that I am suddenly fixated on the bright orange blaze of light as it ignites. Like a moth I find myself drawn to the flame. He settles back on the couch and draws deeply before continuing.

“Do you have any idea how precious the offspring of Fox Mulder is to the project Dana? Do you have any idea? The *potential* for mankind such a child would broker is beyond the rational thought of most men. We’ve known for a long time that Mulder might hold the key to unlock the secrets of a conundrum that has puzzled us for years. His father knew it of course. That’s why he refused to surrender his son to the project. Why he chose Samantha instead.”

I hear his words, but I can’t make sense of them. I don’t understand. I hear the blood pounding in my ears, making it difficult to concentrate. What he’s suggesting is impossible. To suggest that I was partnered with Mulder in the hope that one day we might come together to provide them with a child who might provide all the answers is ridiculous. I am staring across at the man who, along with others, conspired to take me from Mulder more than once. Giving me a disease that almost took my life. Leaving me barren in their pursuit for the greater truth as they took what was most precious to me. I am almost afraid to answer him. That by doing so I may be throwing myself open to even greater hurt.

“That’s impossible. What you’re implying is ridiculous. I was led to believe I was barren. *You* did that to me. During my abduction. We have documentation to prove that….medical records. Reports……”

“Then explain your pregnancy to me Dana. You’re a medical doctor after all. Explain it to me so I can understand how an infertile woman can be standing in front of me nurturing a new life as you are doing……..”

“I can’t!”

My head is throbbing now. Perfectly synchronised with the rapid beating of my heart I feel it like a hammer with every pulse. I feel sick and I just want to flee back to Mulder. I want him to wrap his arms around me, to whisper assurances that it’s going to be all right. I want to block all of this out. To pretend it’s not happening. But my prayers go unanswered as he continues. On and on I hear his voice.

“I *gave* you that baby Dana. We came to understand that our hopes would come to fruition only by turning back to natural means. So much science at our finger tips, and yet we suffered failure after failure. Children that lived a few hours, a few months…even, on a few occasions, *years* before they withered and died. *Your* children Dana. Yours and Mulder’s. Until we came to understand that what was required would never be found in a laboratory. That the missing link was *you*…….but make no mistake - that baby belongs to *us*…….”

The room begins to spin as the full meaning of his words slam in to me with the force of a runaway roller coaster. This is a nightmare. Please God let this be a nightmare. I feel the tears streaming down my face, the sight of him before me blurring, melding his features together like running tallow.

This can’t be happening.

A *plan*? A game from the beginning? The outcome assured?

“You’re lying” I finally manage through the hitching sobs that threaten to wrench me apart. I want so much to shout at him, but the words come out as little more than a strangled whimper.

There is sympathy in his voice now and I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to block it out.

“Why would I lie Dana? What could I hope to gain? I already have what I want.”

I take a stumbling step backwards in a futile attempt to get away from him. But there is nowhere to run and through the fog that has invaded my vision I see him rise before me. He is still smiling, holding his hands out in a gesture of surrender.

“I come to you today Dana to offer you a choice. To give us willingly what we would otherwise have simply taken. A final act of patriotism towards a country you have already given so much to. In return, we will allow you and Mulder to simply walk away. To continue your lives. To rebuild all that has been torn away from you. A final price to pay before gaining release…….”

I slam my palms to cover my ears. A gesture so desperate, so violent, that I almost lose my footing. In the peripherals of my vision I see Skinner heading towards me as though in slow motion.

“NO! I will never let you take my baby…….”

Another step towards me, his lips stretched across yellowing teeth. For the first time I notice the ragged, puckered circle of flesh at the hollow of his throat.

“I don’t expect you to make your choice now of course. Before you decide I think it only prudent to let you know what you’ve been missing these past months. What you *will* miss should you make the wrong choice… I’m sure after speaking with Agent Mulder you will make a balanced decision………”

It is growing darker now. A dizzying sense of vertigo taking me over. Sickeningly, the room begins to spin as I feel the ground slipping beneath me. My last conscious thought is of Skinners arms around me as I begin falling towards nothingness.

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

FOUR

12:13p.m.

I fight against the darkness that consumes me. I am aware of gentle hands against my face, stroking softly as my eyes flutter open. For just a second I allow myself to imagine that the touch is Mulders. That the voice I hear, drawing me once again into consciousness belongs to him.

“Mulder?”

I blink rapidly, struggling against the hands that are now restraining me firmly, refusing to let me rise up in to sitting position.

“Ssssshhhhhh Scully. It’s okay. Don’t try to move.”

Not Mulders that voice.

I am disorientated for a few seconds, unable or unwilling to understand why I am laying here on the hard, cold wooden floor. More confused still by the sight of my superior’s hovering face me as he kneels beside me. And then I inhale deeply, feeling my throat close up as the lingering scent of acrid smoke invades my senses. *Him*.

Despite Skinner’s restraining hand I struggle in to a sitting position, glancing wildly around the room. A room that now appears empty.

“Where is he?” I demand. I’m not surprised by Skinner’s response.

“He’s gone. He left a little over five minutes ago. He said he would contact you this evening……to further discuss…….to discuss……”

He falters then and I can clearly recognise the strain in his voice. The tears that linger dangerously close to the surface pushing their way through his normally strong facade.

“I’m sorry Scully. I’m so sorry……”

I allow him to help me to my feet. Not because I want his help but because I know that I would never make it up there by myself. Finally, I face him accusingly.

“You knew? All this time you knew?”

His eyes widen with horror as my accusation sinks in and he involuntarily backs up a couple of steps. Widening the gap between us until it seems as wide as a ravine. I watch as he gropes for the right words. Does he really believe that mere *words* can make this right?

“In the beginning. I admit I knew in the beginning that they wanted a distraction for Mulder……" 

He gesticulates helplessly, his hands waving in the air as he implores me to believe him.

”….but I never knew the reasons *why*. I swear to you Scully. I swear I never knew about *this.*……..“

I am in no mood to listen to him though. My head is still pounding and that, coupled with a spreading feeling of nausea has left me feeling used up and vulnerable. I don’t want to hear his pathetic excuses. I only need one thing from him now.

“Give me your keys.”

“What?”

I take a step towards him, extending my hand in front of me, palm up.

“I said give me your fucking keys.”

“Scully *please*. You’re in no condition to drive. Let me help you…….”

There is such hopeless yearning in his voice that I almost falter. I *believe* him you see. I believe that just like me, he has been played in all this. And maybe one day, I will draw from deep inside myself and forgive him. But that day isn’t here yet. Right now I can barely even bring myself to look at him.

“You want to *help* me?” I laugh then, the sound ringing hollowly in my ears. “I think *sir* that you’ve helped me enough. Now give me your keys.”

His eyes take on a peculiar sheen as they become moistened with unshed tears. But in his defence he is big enough not to allow them to spill over. And for that I silently thank him, because I know that I couldn’t bear to see him weep again. He’s shed enough tears to last him a lifetime. We all have. He doesn’t speak again. He simply reaches in to his jacket pocket and removes the keys, dropping them in to my outstretched hand without ever meeting my eyes. I, in turn, close my hand around them, feeling the jagged edges of metal digging in to my palm. I welcome the pain. It reminds me I am still alive.

“*Thank you*”

Without another word I spin around and head for the door, trying in vain to ignore the sound of Skinner’s harsh breathing as he tries in vain to hold on to his composure. He doesn’t follow me though. He wouldn’t dare.

My cel phone begins to trill even before I have completely exited the apartment. I hardly need to even answer it. I already know what the news will be. But, I go through the motions, depressing the send button as I continue along the corridor towards the elevator.

“Scully.”

“Dana honey…..it’s Mom. Where are you sweetie? I tried you at home but there was no answer….”

“It’s okay mom. I’m on my way back to the hospital now. Is there something wrong?”

I ask this redundant question out of a need to play by the rules. But as my mother’s joyful voice crackles across the airwaves I am filled with despair. It has invaded every corner of my being. All consuming in it’s ferocity as I close my eyes against her words. Knowing that the news she sends me is a cruel deception.

“Dana? Dana honey? Did you hear what I said?”

I snap back in to the here and now.

“Sorry mom, you broke up back then. Say again?”

She is laughing now.

“Oh Dana! It’s Fox…he’s awake….and he’s asking for you.”

“I’ll be right there mom.”

I look at the phone held in my hand, clenched tightly enough to whiten my knuckles as though it alone is to blame for all this, and suddenly, the fury builds in me. Boils up to the surface, refusing to be suppressed any longer.

There is a splintering crash as I hurl the phone against the door of one of Mulders neighbours. Small pieces of black plastic fly through the air as the phone disintegrates with the force of my anger. But it feels good. So damn good to destroy as we have been destroyed. I half expect someone to appear in the hallway in response to the sudden noise. But it remains empty. It’s the middle of the day after all. There is no reason for anyone to hear the effects of my fury. Nonetheless, I am conscious that to be confronted now would mean more delay. I can’t afford delays now.

Not now that Mulder is waiting for me. Not when I have no idea as to how long.

**********

Georgetown Memorial Hospital 12:56p.m.

I don’t know really how I managed to get here in one piece. I have no recollection whatsoever of the drive over here. Thankfully, some inane sense of preservation must have taken over, because I made the trip without mishap.

I am almost afraid to be here. To see Mulder, to share precious time with him, only to have him taken away from me again is almost impossible to bear. But I *am* here. I hear the sound of my footsteps reverberating around the corridor as I make my way to his room and they comfort me in some small way.

I have decided, subconsciously on the way over here, that I can’t tell him of what I have learned. To burden him with this is both unfair and essentially futile. Of course, there is a small voice inside of me that reminds me constantly that the real reason I refuse to share this with him is that I am afraid of what he will say. Deep down I know that he will choose the life of his child over his own. The choice, that for me seems an impossible one, will become starkly simplistic to him. To him there will be no choice to make. And I am afraid that he will persuade me. As he has persuaded me of so many things in the past.

I pause outside his door. Breathing deeply as I attempt to arrange my features in to an expression of calm serenity. Preparing myself to face him. To lie to him as we have been lied to so many times before. I hate myself for it. For what I am to keep from him.

But finally, I am able to push open the final barrier that separates us, stepping over the threshold until I am standing in the brightness of the room. Sunlight streams through the open blinds, glaringly bright. But I have no trouble seeing him. It takes the tinniest fraction of a second for our eyes to find each other, locking together with such intensity it takes my breath away. He looks so pale, so thin, so frail as he watches me from across the room. He is slightly raised on the bed. Not sitting up exactly, but not laid flat like he was earlier. It allows me to see his face. To evaluate what I see there and my eyes fill with tears as I see the wonder in his face.

My mother, who is currently keeping a vigil by his bedside, rises suddenly, bending slightly toward the man beside her as she touches his arm gently. She murmurs something to him that, from my position across the room I can’t make out. But Mulder tears his eyes from mine for just a fraction of a second to acknowledge her words before turning them back to me.

I feel my Mother’s hand on my shoulder as she squeezes gently on her way out. Leaving us alone to make this most precious of reunions with no distraction. No onlookers.

And then finally he speaks. His voice reaching me like a sweet summer breeze.

“Scully.”

Just hearing it, that same voice that has tortured me through long, lonely, desperate nights, allows me to finally move across to him. I am unaware of the journey. Unaware of anything until I feel his arms around me. Embracing me fiercely as he holds me against him as I half stand, half kneel beside the bed. We don’t speak. Not for the longest time. It’s enough for me to listen to the sound of his heartbeat against mine. To inhale the familiar scent of him that, despite his time here, the hospital has not managed to completely eradicate. Nothing exists for me now except him. I never fully realised how incomplete I was without him until he was taken from me. Never realised that without him by my side I am only half a person. A pathetic excuse for a Human being. And I shudder as the full weight of my choice hits me once again. It pierces my heart, invades my very core, because how can I choose? How can I live without him?

The thought is chased away for a minute as Mulder pushes me away from him, cupping my face tenderly in his two hands until our faces are level, inches apart. He slowly brings me back towards him and presses his lips to mine, hesitantly almost, then more urgent and I gasp as snakes out his tongue to trace a line across them. Opening my mouth to allow him access I relish the feel of him inside my mouth as we finally become one again.

It is so excruciatingly painful I could scream. To be allowed this one glimpse of what I have - of what could be between us, stops my very heart beating. I actually feel it cease in its steady rhythm, and I know Mulder feels it too, because he pulls his mouth from mine, kissing his way up my face before drawing me on to the bed beside him. I am turned slightly away from him, at an angle that now makes it impossible for him to see my face and for that I am thankful, because I feel his palm press against my belly as he feels his child within.

“I didn’t believe them Scully. I’m sorry. I should have believed.”

His voice is so full of childlike wonderment that I can’t hold on to the tears any longer, and I lace my fingers over his as he holds me against him. I feel his other hand reach up to cup my head, resting it against his shoulder as I curl myself in to him. he buries his face in my hair and I feel his breathe against me, warm and soft as he whispers soft words. Comforting words.

“Ssssshhhhh Scully. It’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

His words though, instead of comforting me, only cause to intensify my pain. Because I know that nothing will ever be okay again. To hear his voice, to feel his touch against my skin is like torture. Because I know that whatever happens, we will never be the same again. How could we be?

So I don’t answer him. I simply bury my head further in to him, shaking it slightly as I do so.

“It’s all right Scully. It’s okay. There are other ways.”

My eyes fly open at his whispered assurance. Did I speak the words aloud? Did I allow myself to voice my fears despite my promises to myself? I already know the answer though. It goes against everything I believe in, but I realise suddenly that the words did indeed remain unspoken. I twist around to face him, drinking in the image of him before me, frowning as a tiny smile graces the edges of his beautiful mouth.

“There are other ways Scully.” He repeats as he brings my hand, still entwined with his, slowly upwards until it rests at the back of his neck. 

My fingers come to rest on the tiny, ridge of puckered tissue. Just the tiniest bump beneath. I know what lurks beneath it. A chip. No doubt identical to my own. Controlling him. Controlling and cataloguing his every thought and feeling. His every action. Just as it controls mine.

A ticking time bomb that can never be diffused.

But what he is suggesting is unthinkable. To remove it would bring about a death sentence on him. A slow, lingering, painful death. I know. Oh yeah. I *know*.

I shake my head.

“Mulder no. We’ll find another way……”

He continues to smile even as he runs a finger down my cheek.

“Do you trust me Scully?”

I don’t answer him. I don’t need to. He already knows.

“Then you have to trust me on this. I’ve seen things. I understand now where I didn’t before….and whatever they say to you, whatever they try to do, you have to *trust* me……”

His eyes are beginning to droop slightly and my heart twists painfully as I realise that our time together is short. He realises it too I think, because his words become faster, laced with an urgency I recognise so well.

“You have to remove them Scully. You have to remove *both* of them………”

“But……”

“No. I know what you’re thinking. But you’re wrong. You can save us Scully….you can save all three of us.”

He presses his hand once more to my belly, and I feel my baby kick, as though he is responding to the feel of his father. An invisible connection already established. Flesh and blood. Mulders son.

He is becoming heavy in my arms, slipping towards sleep again, slipping away from me and I have to lean in close to catch his final words.

“Go to Skinner. He knows what to do……..trust him Scully. trust him as you trust me…….”

Tears slip down my cheeks as once more, he closes his eyes. They roll unchecked down my face, crossing to Mulders pale skin where they glisten softly in the light. He is heavy. So heavy and I am not sure for how much longer I can remain here, holding him in my arms. But before I lay him down I press my lips to his, feeling the cool softness of him as I murmur my assurance to him.

“I trust you Mulder. I’ll always trust you.”

Finally, I lay him against the pillow again. Allowing myself the luxury of watching him before I get shakily to my feet. I know what to do now. The choice has been made. Mulder has made my choice.

I only pray it is the *right* one.

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

FIVE

It’s all happened so quickly. Even I have been amazed by the speed in which Skinner has allowed things to happen.

I left Mulder at the hospital and sought him out. He was surprised to see me. I could see the relief shining in his eyes as I stepped over the threshold of his apartment, my shoulders set with a new kind of determination. Don’t get me wrong - I found it hard to trust him. The hardest thing I have ever had to do. But the choice was made for me. Mulder had, with just a few words, allied my fears and brought everything in to focus.

We didn’t speak of anything more than inconsequential things in his apartment. Skinner isn’t stupid. He knows all too well the lengths these men will go to gather their information and is all too aware that what we all once took for granted is now an impossible luxury. He has his apartment regularly swept for bugging devices. It has become as normal for him as taking out the trash and I know the last time he ordered the sweep, his apartment came up clear.

But how long does it take to plant a surveillance device? A minute? An hour? It’s a risk we weren’t prepared to take.

So we left. In the great tradition of a million bad cop shows we ‘took a walk’. I watched our breath combine in the freezing air as we planned. Or rather, I should say, Skinner furnished me with the details of *Mulders* plans.

He hardly paused as he told me of the measures he had taken to keep us safe, to keep *me* safe should anything ever happen to him. I was both touched and a little afraid by the amount of trust my partner had placed in this man, but as Skinner spelled it out to me I slowly began to draw closer to him once again. Past digression forgotten as he drew me down beside him on a bench when I began to tire of our constant motion.

Two years ago, Mulder had come to him. Had furnished him with the details of an elaborate plan that would thwart even the most determined efforts of the men who sought to destroy us. Did he know even back then their true purpose? Had he seen things I couldn’t imagine even in my worst nightmares? So many questions that pounded at my skull. Questions I couldn’t possibly hope to answer.

And I learned so much that day. Learned things about Mulder I had never suspected. Not even for a second could I imagine the secrets he stored away in his heart. Secrets designed to protect me. Sitting on the bench with Skinner I learned that Mulder is a wealthy man. Not simply comfortable enough to furnish his life with the material possessions of the rich. No. That day I learned that my partner of seven years - the man who lives his life in a shabby apartment, the man who occasionally aims a well placed kick in the general direction of a video recorder that is less than reliable - is wealthy enough to have put the wheels in motion that, should this day ever come, we could be taken care of.

A house in Canada. Set in acres of it’s own grounds. Far enough away from the scrutiny of nosey neighbours but close enough to major amenities to make our lives easier.

A bank account with enough resources to ensure that, should we choose, we will not have to work for a living for the rest of our lives.

To hear Skinner quietly spelling it out to me was overwhelming in itself. To know that Mulder has been secretly putting the wheels in motion to ensure our survival was enough to bring a lump to my throat. And overwhelming as it was, his next words had shaken me to the core.

New identities. New lives.

A *safe* life.

But the cost is enormous.

To leave all that which is most precious to us. To walk away never to return. Because I know we can never return. To do that would spell disaster. A year, five years, *decades* from now they would still be waiting for us. Waiting to claim our baby for their own.

But we would have each other. Together we could weather the heartache such action would bring. I know it. Mulder knew it. Even before we admitted our true feelings to each other he was astute enough to realise that our hearts and minds entwined a long time ago. Enough to know that we could do this.

So, just three short days ago, I allowed Skinner to bring Mulders plan to fruition. He refused to allow me to return to the hospital. Instead, he immediately rented a car and drove me to a small cabin in the Virginia countryside. He left me there, in front of a fire he insisted on lighting to keep me warm before turning on his heel and exiting this small, safe oasis in the middle of a forest. I sat, unmoving, watching the flames dance in the gloom of the winter evening, casting orange shadows on the rough log walls of the cabin. Occasionally I would lean forwards, just enough to add more fuel to the fire, to keep the fire bright. To warm my partner when Skinner finally brought him to me.

But I was scared. So scared. Because before he left he handed me a thick file of papers. The deeds to the house. The paperwork necessary for me to follow Mulders plans through. Everything I would need to simply take my baby and disappear. I knew his reasons even if he didn’t voice them to me. Simply, he gave me a salvation, somewhere to run to should he and Mulder not make it here. And despite the warmth of the fire I felt chilled at the prospect.

But my fears, this time at least had proved groundless. Because as the darkness had cloaked the tiny cabin my prayers had been answered.

Three dao which now seem like a lifetime.

Lost in thought, I stand, looking out in to the forest, watching the sunlight rays filtering through the trees. The sunshine though is an illusion, because last night the temperature dipped, the air cold enough to cause a thin sheet of ice to form across the cabin’s windows. I woke up this morning to a view of the surrounding area that was cloaked in a thick frost. So beautiful it took my breathe away and I was heartened that I could still appreciate the beauty around me in the face of so much heartbreak. I still am.

I tense suddenly as I feel a presence behind me. I wait for his touch. To feel his palm at the small of my back. I am not disappointed. I know him. I know his every action, his every thought. Not in a literal sense maybe, but more in the way we have come together again. And I know his next words before he even has time to utter them.

“It’s time to go Scully.”

I turn then to face him. Scrutinising him for signs of fatigue. For signs that his recovery is not as complete as I hope it is. But I see nothing there. My fears, so far are groundless. He has slept a lot these last few days. I have held him awkwardly in my arms and watched him sleep. The nightmares I have been afraid will invade his slumber have so far remained dormant. I pray that they always will.

He refuses to speak of his incarceration. Shaking his head slightly every time I attempt to question him. Maybe one day, far in to the future he will open up to me. But for now it doesn’t matter. Because he is here with me. Still too thin. Still a shadow of his former self. But everyday I see signs that he is becoming stronger. That he is recovering.

Twice a day I remove the small square of gauze that covers the fresh wound at the back of his neck. Scrupulously cleaning it to ward off the threat of infection. He is still so weak and infection would spell disaster for him. And when I am done, he returns the favour. Tentatively at first until I assured him that he wouldn’t hurt me. That he needed to cleanse a wound that is healing slowly.

I had managed to persuade Skinner to perform the removal of the chip from the back of my neck. But he had balked visibly at the prospect of stitching the edges together. But the wound isn’t deep. It will heal well I think.

He stands before me. Casually dressed in blue jeans and a thick chocolate coloured sweater. It’s a colour that brings out the richness of his deep hazel eyes. The sweater bulks him up and I can almost imagine him the way he was before all this. But he will heal. We both will. Already, some colour has returned to his pale skin. In just three short days Mulder has begun to come back to me.

He reaches out a hand and gently brushes a strand of my hair away from where it lays against my cheek and tucks it behind my ear. He doesn’t remove his hand though. He leaves it resting against my cheek and almost unconsciously I press my face against it. Revelling in the warmth. Revelling in the feel of him.

“Scully?”

“I know. I’m ready. I was just thinking.”

He nods then. He understands. He’s always understood. So he remains silent, drawing me to his side where he wraps an arm around my back and it comforts me in some small way. Gives me the strength to do what I am about to do.

Together we walk across the room, leaving the bedroom and crossing over in to the living room. She is waiting for us there and her face lights suddenly with a gentle smile at the sight of us. But beneath it I can see the tears, glittering in her fine blue eyes. Dangerously close to the surface as she prepares herself to say goodbye. To let go of her daughter this one final time.

But there is no accusation in those eyes. Just a deep abiding love that pierces my heart as she holds out her arms to me. And like a child I allow her to wrap me in her warm embrace, holding me tightly against her as she transfers a lifetime of love in to me. It’s not enough time. There’s not enough time to say to her all I need to say. I feel tears, hot on my cheeks as I remain there but as my shoulders begin to shake, she draws away slightly, bringing up her palms to rest at each side of my head.

“No Honey. No more tears.”

Even as she utters the words I hear her voice crack as she struggles to hold on to her composure. She swallows heavily as she smoothes her hands over and over against me, finally speaking once again, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Your Father would be so proud of you. *I’m* so proud of you Dana. Never forget that. *Ever*. Do you hear me?”

I nod shakily.

“I hear you Mom………”

My words are lost as once again I begin to sob. Huge wracking sobs that make me ache inside and just for a second she pulls me once again to rest in her arms.

“I love you so much my baby girl.”

The words are only for me. Murmured softly in my ear before she steps away finally, turning her attention to the man who stands behind me.

“Take care of her for me Fox.”

He doesn’t answer her. Instead, he steps towards her and embraces her briefly. I am surprised to see that his eyes are moist with unshed tears. But perhaps I shouldn’t be. He is saying his goodbyes to a woman who has been more of a mother to him than his own ever was.

His words are soft, but they reach me without difficulty.

“You know I will. Always.”

He releases his hold on her and she laughs. That peculiar sound that comes from people who are battling with both happiness and despair. The laughter simply a way to hold back the tears.

“Now go. The both of you before I change my mind………..”

But I can’t move. No matter how hard I try I just can’t make my feet co-operate.

“Mom………..”

Until I feel Mulders hand grasp my own. Lacing his fingers through mine he breaks the spell. So I simply nod as I allow him to turn us away from her. We don’t say goodbye. We agreed. No goodbyes. At least not spoken ones. To say goodbye would be to admit that this is forever. And through Mulder I’ve learned never to say forever.

And together we walk away. To where Skinner is waiting for us. Towards the future.

**********

Epilogue

As I stand on the balcony of this graceful house, watching Mulder as he plays with our son, I can barely believe how much time has passed.

Two years almost since we made our last desperate bid for freedom. For normality. It seems like only yesterday and it reminds me once again how rapidly time slips through our fingers.

Time has passed so quickly and together, we have watched our son grow from a tiny baby in to the sturdy toddler who squeals delightedly as he tries in vain to catch hold of the ball Mulder tosses gently to him in the golden light of late summer.

I remember the look on Mulders face as I finally pushed our son in to the world. The look of wonderment as he held him, a tiny, squalling bundle of fury in his arms that night so many months ago. There were no hospitals that night. We couldn’t take the risk, small as it was, that news of his birth would somehow reach across the miles and alert them to our presence here.

So instead, I gave birth here in this house, just five days after our arrival, aided by a kindly, shrewd looking doctor. A friend of the Gunmen, he asked no questions of us as he hovered in the background, giving me the encouragement I needed. Mulder had been assured of his silence and we had to believe that he was friend not foe. So difficult to trust anyone. It still is I suppose. 

But our faith has been rewarded. So far, we have been able to live our lives here enjoying nothing more obtrusive than the occasional raccoon that snuffles its way through the garbage much to the amusement of our son who claps his hands with delight when confronted with one of these creatures.

We named him William after Mulders father. It took us almost a week to reach the decision. Around the same amount of time it took the Gunmen to put together a false record of his birth. Nothing about our lives now is true. Different names. Different birth dates. Our true identities have been erased so completely it is as though we never existed at all.

But here, we are still the people we once were. Here, in the safety of our own little fortress we can be ourselves.

The gunmen have been, and remain, our salvation. Our one connection with the past. Mulder insisted on it. He believed that to cut ourselves off completely would be as dangerous as remaining in plain sight. So, twice a week he sits down at the computer and sends correspondence across the miles. He has to trust that the precautions taken by the Gunmen are enough to keep us safe. A high tech, state of the art scrambler device is fitted to the terminal. It makes tracing the e-mail impossible. Because even the Gunmen are unaware of our exact location. It’s the only way to keep them safe.

I think we realised that fully for the first time only when, six months after our arrival here, we received word from Frohike that Skinner was dead. The victim of a random shooting as he shopped for groceries in a small store just a hundred yards or so from his apartment. A robbery that went tragically wrong. But we know better. We know that there was nothing random about it. Just as we know the reasons for his death. Mulder brought me the news as I was laying Will down for the night.

 White faced and shaking, he had handed me the crumpled piece of paper that he held in his hand. I read the printed words and for the first time appreciated what this man had been prepared to sacrifice for us; His two renegade agents who he had held in a high enough regard to die for.

We cried that night. Bitter tears as we mourned the passing of a man who had saved us in so many ways. Comforting each other as we lay together, watching the first rays of dawn streak the night sky until finally, the hurt had lessened and we were able to carry on. For the sake of our son we carried on.

It hadn’t taken us long to realise just how enormous the stakes had become. Mere weeks passed until we realised the true extent of what our son is. Of what he can be.

It started slowly at first. And for a long time I refused to believe that this tiny baby, who could gaze up at me with his china blue eyes that seemed to delve in to my very soul, might one day be the salvation of all mankind. There is no doubt though that he is special. This rough and tumble little boy who can chase away my tears with a smile can also reach out a pudgy hand to an injured bird and then watch with wonder as it rises once more in to the blue sky. The little boy whose brow creased with concentration only days ago as Mulder came in to the house, his face pinched with pain as he held a broken wrist against his chest, the result of an altercation with the barn door that had slammed shut when a sudden gust of wind caught it.

I didn’t need an x-ray to tell me that the bones were out of alignment. The ugly swelling that marred its smooth shape was evidence enough. Will had been playing quietly on the floor when his father walked in. But immediately, he had pushed himself to his feet and toddled over to where Mulder stood, reaching out his arms to him until Mulder locked eyes with me and hunkered down on his haunches until he was level with his son. And I watched in wonder as Will placed his baby hands over the ugly mottled flesh, heard the click as Mulders bones knitted back together. It was perhaps the first time that we fully realised what our son can do.

He was absurdly pleased with himself and waited expectantly for Mulder to acknowledge him. In response, Mulder had picked him up and covered him with kisses until his son squirmed in delight.

But later, when Will was sleeping I had felt a dread creep up on me that blotted out everything else. A dread born out of a love for my son that is so intense it is blinding. Because I know now why they want him. Why he is so precious to them. Mulder felt it too. Because despite the fact that I tried hard to hide my fear he immediately recognised it, wrapping me in his strong arms. Whispering assurances to me as together, we watched our son sleep. He kissed away my nightmares in much the same way I have occasionally kissed away his.

He still hasn’t ever spoken of what they did to him during the months he was missing. I think the memory is just too painful for him to share it with me. Wanting to protect me even now from my own demons. Part of me yearns for him to open up to me while at the same time a part of me is grateful he doesn’t.

I love him so much now you see and I’m not sure I could ever really recover if I learned how they had hurt him. It would crack a piece of my heart to hear him speak of the suffering I am sure he must have endured at their hands. But the only evidence is the occasional bad dream that surfaces in the dead of the night. When he awakens, shaking and sobbing until I reach out for him and soothe him back to sleep. He remembers nothing of the nightmares when he awakens the next day. Or at least, if he does he chooses not to mention them again.

The nightmares though are lessening. For both of us. My dreams, that were once haunted by the sight of Mulder, laying in a hospital bed. Pale, thin, hollow eyed as I was forced to watch him die a slow, painful death, are now blissfully trouble free.

I understand now why he was so insistent about the removal of the chips. Knowing in some unfathomable way that the consequences I feared would result from such an action would never come to anything more than a handful of frightening nightmares.

Because not since William was born have Mulder or I suffered from so much as a cold.

I don’t pretend to understand it. But I accept without question that our son holds a power within him to keep us safe.

I don’t know what the future holds for any of us. I have learned to take things one step at a time. Tiny steps forward to what we both hope will one day be a normal life. But it has been hard. So hard to leave those we loved behind. But I recognise that to keep them safe, sacrifices had to be made by all of us.

The gunmen have somehow managed to find a way to keep my mother in touch with our lives. I receive regular messages from her, that in the beginning would bring tears of yearning to my eyes. Mulder would watch me from across the room as I tried unsuccessfully to keep my anguish from him.

 But he knew.

He always knows.

And then came a day, not so long ago, when Mulder insisted we took a drive. He refused to give me any information as we wended our way along roads lined with pine trees. Laughing at me as I became more and more frustrated by his apparent secrecy. Until, finally, he came to a halt in front of a small rustic cabin. Much like the one we had fled on that frosty day almost two years before. He had smiled softly at me as I had silently questioned him, taking Will from my arms before guiding me into the cabin where my mother was waiting for me.

The risks such a reunion might have brokered melted away as I threw myself in to her waiting arms and cried tears of pure joy. We stayed together for just three short days. But it was enough. Enough time for me to say all the things to her I wanted to say. Enough time for her to get to know her grandson. But much more than that, she finally got to know Mulder in the way I had always hoped. No government conspiracies, no tragedies. Just the three of us sharing time and space as we finally put our demons to rest.

The sun is warm on my back as I stand here thinking. Watching the man I love with his son. Marvelling at the bond they share. And not a day goes by that I don’t thank God for bringing them both together. To have to live without either one of them is an impossibility now and I will never forget the choice I was almost forced to make. Nor the choices I *did* make.

But I have learned now that no choice is an impossible one. That our lives are made up of different roads. Some easy, some hard, but none are impossible. We travel the road until the day we die. Making choices every second, every minute that we live on this earth, always in the hope that we will somehow make it through and out the other side.

I smile as William runs ahead of Mulder, climbing up the stone steps that lead to the balcony until he is able to straighten up and toddle across to me expecting to be picked up. Right behind him Mulder follows. Shaking his head in amusement as he scoops up his son in strong, tanned arms. I’ve never seen him happier or healthier than he is right now. He glows with a vibrancy that takes my breath away. The lines have all but disappeared from his face. He has filled out again. Well muscled from hours spent in the small, purpose built gym attached to the side of this rambling house he makes my heart contract painfully every time I look at him. His hair is still tinged with grey. But it has slowly been replaced with his original deep brown colour. Until, now, all that remains is a faint sprinkling. As though he has dipped the strands in white paint. The next time he gets a haircut, they will disappear forever.

Oh yes. Here in this idyllic piece of paradise we have healed. We have healed in ways I couldn’t even have begun to imagine during those frightening years when our very existence was, in itself difficult to hold on to. He drops a kiss on to the crown of my head and pulls me towards him. Still cradling Will against him as he lets his free hand come to rest on the gentle swell of my stomach, feeling the new life within flutter against his palm.

A baby girl this time. I am sure of it. Although I couldn’t explain how I know if I was questioned on the fact. A baby girl with deep blue eyes and a shock of blonde hair that will slowly turn darker with the passing of each year. I know this already. I know it because I met her once. For the just the blink of an eye I was allowed to hold her in my arms as she slowly slipped away from me.

But this time will be different. The final healing act that will allow me to finally move on. To allow us all to move on.

The future is still uncertain. There will be more choices to make. Some hard. Some easy. But no *impossible* ones. Not anymore. Because we have, in some unfathomable way, fought the future and won.

End

#impossible choices au my fic they deserved happiness x files msr

[frangipanidownunder]

A woman in line at the coffee shop is hitting on Mulder, the advances clearly unwelcome, Scully cuts in in a funny and flirty way

Continuing the coffee shop au. Early season one. Tagging @today-in-fic. The Flaky Pastry Technique

Mulder hadgone ahead. She hadn’t had coffee for three hours and felt every one of those10800 seconds. The Tooms case report had taken longer than she’d expected. Shehad tried to soften the accusations around Colton’s involvement but afterrewriting it several times, her anger at his bone-headed and boorish behaviourswelled and she simply wrote:

           AgentTom Colton acted rashly in his decision to call off the stakeout. His refusalto listen to Agent Mulder’s or my own theories, evidence and suggestions, putlives in danger. His manner was unhelpful, obstructive even, and it is my viewthat his narrow field of vision in this case delayed its conclusion and couldhave resulted in serious injury to me, or even worse.

She’d been having nightmares. That Mulder didn’t get there in time. ThatTooms had got his quota and her mother would be burying a daughter. It made hershudder, the danger that Colton and his territorial Alpha male stunt haddelivered. It made her shudder to think of her mother’s grief. It made herquestion her career choice, but only for a second. She had found a steady allyin Mulder, his intensity, when focused, was proving to be a surprising andwelcome guide through this still strange landscape of the X Files. Being askedto spy on her partner had left a bad taste in her mouth, but since theirfaltering start she and Mulder had found some kind of groove. And understandingeach other’s tastes in coffee was a big part of that groove.

           She pushed open thedoor to the coffee shop. The place was always busy. She briefly remembered whenshe’d sat in the window seats with Jack, blowing the steam off their too hotcoffees and sharing an apple Danish. It seemed so long ago. He’d been a bigpart of her life for such a short time but she knew without a doubt that hisimpression on her life would be nowhere near as profound as Mulder’s would be.Had already been.

           Mulder was placing theorder. He was pointing to something in the cool cabinet, probably one of thoseslices that had cholesterol as its main ingredient. The barista was smiling athim – she knew them both by name, but it was the woman next to him that caughther eye. She was well-dressed in a stylish skirt suit, long slim legs, silkblouse, flowing blonde hair. She was stunning. And she was leaning so close tohim that their arms were brushing.

           Scully wondered whetherhe knew her. He was smiling, but the more she looked, the more she realised itwas his fake smile, the one he wore for Blevins, for Skinner, for the woman inaccounts who hand-delivered his signed 302s. She moved a little closer andlistened.

           “You’d like this one,it’s very soft inside, creamy even. But the outside is hard and crusty. It’sthe perfect balance.”

           He nodded. “I’m acreature of habit. The custard slice with flaked almonds. The nuts make ithealthier. My partner likes that.”

           “FBI then? You’re all prettyeasy to spot. Where is he?” The woman flicked her hair over her shoulder andlooked around. Mulder reached for the coffees, not following her gaze.

           “She’s on her way.”

           The woman sucked in abreath. “They allow male-female partnerships? That must be hard.”

           Scully bit her lip asthe woman purred.

           Mulder looked down ather. “We work well together. We complement each other. She’s the best partnerI’ve had.”

           The flush on Scully’scheeks hit hard. And she knew it was time to move.

           “Really? Perhaps yourexpectations are too low, Mr…?”

           Mulder took the trayand tucked the paper bag containing his slice in between the coffees.

           “Mulder,” Scully said,taking the bag. “Let me get that.”

           The woman stood herground.

           Scully opened the bagand licked her lips. “I love this one. It’s our favourite, isn’t it? It’s theone we always use to upset the suspects.”

           Mulder’s lips quiveredinto a smile. A real one. He turned back to the woman, who had straightened hershoulders.

“Yes, you see, my partner here sits at the desk and nibblesthe ends of the pastry whilst I’m interrogating and she lets it flake all downher front and then I walk over to her and rub the flakes off. It’s the standardprocedure for distracting the suspect and usually we get them to deviate fromtheir story and it all pretty much unravels from there.”

           Rolling her lipstogether, Scully nodded at the woman. “Our last suspect, we were certain he hadripped the livers from four people and eaten them.” She paused a beat and thewoman blanched. “But getting him to confess was proving difficult so we usedthis flaky pastry technique.”  

The woman stepped back and held a hand to her mouth. “Livers?”

“He nested in bile,” Scully added. “He could stretch and flattenhis body like rodent.” She opened the bag and breathed in the sweet aroma ofthe pastry. “It was fascinating, really.”

           “But my partner herehad him salivating over her in no time,” Mulder added, draping his arm overScully’s shoulders. “And then she put him in an arm lock and he confessed hisdeepest, darkest sins. And believe me, you wouldn’t want to hear those.” Hebeamed and took a swig of his coffee. “It’s very unsettling if you’re of adelicate disposition.”

Once she’d stopped giggling, Scully drained the last of her coffee andput the cup in the bin just as Mulder threw the screwed up bag across the desk.Flakes of pastry showered her.

           “Mulder!”

           He waggled his eyebrowsand grinned at her. “Do I get to rub the flakes off, Scully?”

           “Only if I get to putyou in an arm lock to get your deepest, darkest confessions out of you,” shesaid, smiling back.

           “They’re veryunsettling.”

           She picked up the bagand dropped it in the bin. “I’ve no doubt, Mulder. But it’s okay, I’m not of adelicate disposition, Mulder.”

#txf fanfic #my fanfiction #prompt #30 minute word vomit #todayinfic

[stargazer1121]

I wrote this about a year ago...after watching Babylon, it just sort of came to me.  I hadn't written fanfic since I was probably in high school, but it just came back to me.  Mulder and Scully are as known to me as my own family and I just wanted them to have a happier ending than what I felt like they were getting.

So, this was the product of Season 10 and it took me several months to write.  I've never once posted a fic before, so I hope it works.

Rating? R-ish - For some language and adult scenes...nothing too vulgar.

Triggers?  None that i’m aware of.

Summary - Begins at the end of Babylon when Scully arrives at Mulder’s.

With that I give you....

I’m Glad It Was You

  Chapter 1

 Saturday, September 5, 2016

  The sun was warm that afternoon and he knew that she would be here soon so he went outside to sit on one of his porch chairs.  He no sooner than put the earbuds in then she drove up, one of his most favorite sites which sadly these days was often too soon followed by her red taillights as she left him.

                 ‘Maybe not today’ he thought to himself.  Their work back on the X-Files was allowing them more time together and as she had so delicately put it, ‘got him out of that little house.’  All he wanted was her back in it, but that would take time.  He knew that they belonged together and he hoped that she did too.

                 “Talk to me, Mulder.”  Scully said after she walked up the stairs to his porch.  She leaned back against the post and waited.

                 “Umm…where to begin” he countered, squinting just a bit, his eyes crinkled at the corners, his lips turning up into a half smile.

                 “Why don’t you tell me about your little scheme” Scully said, brushing her hair away from her face.

               “You were on your own mission” Mulder said while rolling up the sleeves of his sweatshirt.  “And you would have never bought that.”

               “You’re absolutely right.  I have to applaud her though with her clever trick with the placebo.”

               “Yeah, yeah…how did that work?” Mulder asked bringing his eyes up to Scully’s.  Scully smiled, one of those full smiles that she saved just for him, shook her head and said,

               “Wonders never cease with you.”

               “I saw things though Scully.  Powerful things.  I saw deep and unconditional love.”

               “I saw things too.”  Scully continued looking somewhat pained “I witnessed unqualified hate that appears to have no end.”

               “How to reconcile the two…the extremes of our nature.” Mulder pondered.

               “That’s the question.  Maybe the question of our times.”  Scully said still staring at Mulder wanting to be sad, but not being able to help herself from smiling back at him when his own eyes crinkled in that half coy smile.  Mulder stood up from his chair and with an outstretched hand said,

               “Walk with me, Scully.”  She couldn’t help herself, not only did she immediately reach out to him, she clasped both her hands around his one.  It had been so long since they had even been this intimate together and she longed for it, longed for his touch, longed for his warmth and his voice which often got quiet in the night and became this hushed whisper once they curled up to go to sleep together.

               “This whole thing has got me thinking” Mulder started as they went down the porch steps together. He continued after a brief pause,

               “Thinking about God”

               “You, Mulder, thinking about God?”  Scully chuckled amused.

               “The angry God of the bible, Tower of Babylon, scattering people violently so as to never speak a common language.”

               “Punishing man for his hubris.”  Scully finished for him.

               “Well that lesson didn’t stick.  But the anger sure remains.”          

               “It’s the same angry God as in the Koran, ordering death to the Infidels.  What exactly is God saying?  Worship me in my great anger?”

               “Well that’s a good question, Mulder” Scully responded as she brushed her body not quite so absent-mindedly up against his. “One for the ages.”

               “Well think about the immense power in those prophecies, the power in those words to convince young men to put on suicide vests today and murder for their angry God.”

               “What are you getting at?”  Scully asked truly lost as to where he was taking this conversation.

               “Those boys, they just swallowed a pill” Mulder said reaching his hand up to his throat and pulling it down to his stomach. “It’s the power of suggestion.” Scully smiled, looking over at him to find his starring back.  They stopped walking and she grabbed his other hand with her free one, intertwined their fingers and while keeping her eyes fixed on his asked,

               “Is this perceived mystery from your magical, mystical tour?”  she asked teasingly.

               “Well yes, courtesy of the ‘shrooms.  Something else, something to trump all hatred.”  He paused and continued “Mother love.” Scully arched back and with a bemused smile said,

               “Whoa.”

               “I refuse to believe that mothers are having babies just to be martyrs.  I want to believe that mothers have a greater purpose, for all of us.”  He knew he was going someplace that might be difficult for her.

               “I agree.  A child is not a tool to spread hatred.”

               “Where does the hatred end though?”  Mulder asked her.

               “Maybe it ends where it began, by finding a common language again.  Maybe that’s God’s will.”

               “How can we really know when he’s absent from the stage?”  Mulder looked at her for an answer.  Scully smiled, knowing that she would continue to have this conversation about God’s existence with Mulder for years to come.

               “Maybe it’s beyond words.  Maybe we should be like the prophets, open our hearts and truly listen.”  Mulder shook his head, leaned back and as if on cue Scully’s phone chirped.  The sound startled them both.  Scully let out a quick laugh and reached in her back pocket to bring out her cell phone.  She answered,

               “Scully.”  She listened and Mulder felt her knees go out from her.  He grabbed her by the shoulders as she tried to regain her balance.

               “Yes, I’m Dana Scully.”  The next phrase Mulder never saw coming.

               “birth mother to William.”  Mulder nearly came down on his own knees, but somehow he stayed up, strong for both of them.

               “Yes.  I would absolutely…I, I know where his Father is…he does?  He does.  Ok. I’ll check my email.  Thank you.”  The ‘thank you’ came out as a sob.  She reached back around and fumbled until she found the pocket that her cell phone lived in, slipping it in.

               “Scully who was that?”  Mulder searched her face trying desperately to figure out who had just called her.

               “The adoption agency, Mulder.  William.”  She paused as she fought back the tears that were streaming down her face.  “William, he wants…he wants to meet us.”  She said with a smile so wide Mulder couldn’t help but smile in return.

               “He’s still a minor so his parents….”  She stopped and begun again.  “his adoptive parents had to sign a release form that stated that he could get in touch with us through the adoption agency.  Mulder, our son, our son…we get to see him.” Mulder brought her into his arms and buried his face into her hair.  They stood in each other arms, swaying with one another.

               “Scully…when, when can we see him?”

               “They, the woman from the adoption agency said that I will get an email soon with all the information.”  Her face suddenly fell.

               “What?”  he asked concern coating his voice.

               “What if he hates us?  What if he wants to see us so he can tell us how awful we were to give him up?  What if there’s something wrong with him…Mulder, what if he has the alien DNA and he’s…”  she couldn’t finish her thought.

               “Scully he hasn’t contacted the adoption agency just to tell us that he hates us.”  Somehow Mulder’s words resonated with her and her rigid body relaxed once more.

               “Mulder, I can’t help but thinking that there is something wrong.  Why, why after all these years would he want to meet us?”

               “He’s fifteen years old.  He must be curious where he came from, who we are, where we are.”

               “Mulder.  I need to sit.”  He put his arm around her waist to help support her tiny frame as he led them back to what was once their home.  He led her up the stairs, inside and helped her to sit down on his couch.

               “Let me make some tea.”  He wandered into the kitchen and without really thinking he grabbed the kettle, filled it with water and turned the stove top on.  ‘Why, why now?  Why would his son want to meet him?  Was Scully right?  Was he in trouble, was there something wrong with him or was he just an angry teenager who needed to blame them, to make sure they knew that he hated them for giving him away.  Yes, he had reassured Scully outside, but his own doubts overwhelmed him.  He had to be strong though.  Fifteen year ago he wasn’t strong enough to keep them together, to keep them safe.  He wasn’t going to let history repeat itself.  

               “Here.”  He offered her the steaming cup and she took it, barely meeting his eyes.

               “I need to check my email.”

               “Yes, my computer…” he trailed off knowing she knew where his computer was after finding him in his study night after night, day-in and day-out.  He knew ultimately that was what drove her away, is own self-imposed isolation, but he couldn’t deal with that right now.  She clumsily rose and started off towards his office.  He stood stock still, unable to move.  Not knowing, do I follow her, do I wait for her?  Not too long ago it would have been easy, he would have followed her without thinking, but now…they were just becoming friendly again.

               “Mulder!” the choice was made for him.  He hurriedly walked towards his hurricane of an office.

               “I can’t seem to unlock it.”  She said looking frustrated.

               “Yeah, I umm changed it a while ago.” He said in a shy, uncomfortable manner.  

               “Here let me do it.”  He crossed the distance between them in a few strides and leaned over her, quickly typing his password.  The screen brightened and Scully grabbed the mouse and began clicking.

               “Here.  Here it is.” Mulder stayed behind her.  He laid his hands on her shoulders, both to comfort her and to give him support.  She read slowly so she didn’t miss a thing.  It was simple enough.  The email stated that the “minor, a William Van de Kamp” would like to meet his birth parents and the meeting would take place at his residence in Greeley, Wyoming. There were two dates offered. Scully looked back trying to see if Mulder had been reading and judging by his expression, he had.

               “Want to see our son Saturday, Scully?”  Mulder asked.  All she could manage was a nod as tears once again formed in her eyes.  The raw emotion on her face was almost more than he could bear.

               “Scully, do you want me to…”  He trailed off when he watched her jaw set and that look of determination flashed across her face.

               “I’ve got this.”  She said.  She clicked reply and typed a few sentences and then clicked the “send” button.   Mulder backed up a few steps as she rose from his office chair, turned and stared at him.  

               “Mulder, I don’t know it’s a miracle, here my mom dies” and with this statement she reached and wiped away a few tears that had crested over her eyelid “her last words are about William and we have been discussing him for the first time in years.  The timing is just…miraculous.”  Mulder grabbed her hand and led her back to the couch where he sat down next to her. He hesitantly looked into her eyes, not wanting to deprive her of her current state of happiness, but his mind was racing, his jaw began working, no words escaped.

               “Mulder, what?”  Sully’s voice was full of concern.

               “What are we going to tell him?”  His eyes searched hers, hoping to convey all that lay behind that simple statement.

               “About where he came from?”  Her eyes darted down, unable to keep his intense look.

               “Yes, we need to be able to tell him the truth without telling him all of it.  It would be too much.”  Scully nodded her head in agreement.  How could they explain the alien colonization, alien DNA and the Syndicate without sounding like paranoid conspiracy theorists?

                 The sun had faded by the time they had decided that the best course of action was to tell him the least without looking like they were hiding anything.  Mulder stood and turned on the few lamps that he had, casting an amber hue to the small, somewhat disheveled room.  It wasn’t addressed, but they both knew that Scully wasn’t driving back to her apartment tonight.  Scully excused herself and went into the bathroom to freshen up as Mulder mentioned that he would get dinner which she knew meant leftover something or other. She was exhausted and needed to change and wanted nothing more than comfort.  She knew where it should be, knew that if it were in the same drawer that he had hoped that she would return.  She entered the bedroom and briefly looked around, noticing that the bed was made which meant that Mulder hadn’t likely slept in it for a while. He never wanted to make the bed, told her that it never made any sense to him.  She crossed the room to the dresser and upon opening the drawer she suddenly felt like no time had passed.  The blue Knicks shirt was right where she had left it.  It was still folded and waiting.  Waiting for her as it had been for nearly 20 years.  She had essentially taken ownership of it after a half dozen sleepovers without an overnight bag.  She had even teased him once, very early into their relationship when she had caught him wearing it, ‘Wearing my New York Knicks shirt, Mulder?’ Her teasing causing her lips to curve and made her smile widen, one of her rare toothy smiles that she saved only for him.  He never wore it again and the next time she had gone looking for it, it had been washed and folded.  She pulled it out of the drawer and quickly changed out of her pants and blouse. When the worn cotton slipped over her bare skin she felt the warmth that this t-shirt had always provided to her. She deposited her clothes on the bathroom counter and headed out to the couch where Mulder was busy arranging take out cartons of left over Chinese food.  He looked up and almost knocked over the Kung Pao Chicken when he caught site of what she was wearing.  He loved that she had taken possession of his favorite shirt.  He took a moment to enjoy the view, the way the shirt came down just above her knees.  He knew that an old t-shirt probably shouldn’t make him feel quite so aroused, but he just couldn’t help himself.  

               “Careful Mulder, that’s my favorite.”  She quipped as she took a seat.  Mulder began rearranging the already arranged containers, focusing his eyes and hands on the task.  He felt her touch, ever so slight.

               “I think we’re ready.”

               “Yeah…umm…wine, beer, water?” he offered finally trusting himself enough to bring his eyes back up to hers.  

               “After all this, I’ll take a beer.”  Mulder was grateful to leave the room for a moment and gather his thoughts.  Why, why did seeing her in that old Knicks shirt make him want to smile like an idiot and cry all at the same time?  Their lives were anything but normal, but a shirt should not have that much power over him he thought to himself.  He opened the fridge, pulled out two beers, twisted off the tops and drank greedily from one.  He was going to need to take the edge off if he was ever going to survive sitting next to her wearing that shirt and not do something stupid.

               “Here.”  He managed as he passed her the bottle.  “Want to watch something?”

               “You pick.” She said in between bites.  Two hours later and two and a half beers later Scully was falling asleep on the couch.  Mulder looked over, how many times had he seen this?  The sight never got old.  He leaned over, touched her shoulder which roused her.

               “hmmm…”

               “Hey, take the bed.  I’ll sleep out here.”  She knew it was pointless to argue so she stood up, started walking, turned back and said,

               “Good talk, Mulder.” And with that she walked into the bedroom, crawled under the sheets and fell asleep to the very distinct smell of Mulder.

 Chapter 2

 Sunday, September 6, 2016

 Scully awoke at 6:00am, years of getting up early had left her with the inability to sleep in which today was good since she hadn’t had the presence of mind to set an alarm and she was due to start her shift at the hospital in two hours.  She got out of bed and wandered into the bathroom to splash some water on her face and change before heading home for a clean pair of clothes.  After getting dressed she folded the Knicks shirt and placed it back in its drawer hoping that she would wear it again sooner than the last time.

               She walked into the living room to find the couch empty.  She knew right where to find him.  She knocked on his office door which was ajar.  He jumped ever so slightly and looked up.

               “Hey, how did you sleep?”  He asked, getting out of his chair and walking over to her. He hadn’t given her that courtesy in so long.  By the last few months she had barely gotten a “hey” or “bye” when she would come and go.

               “Fast.” She replied looking tired.

               “Yeah, late night.”

               “I need to go, my shift starts at eight and I need to get home, take a shower and change.”  Mulder reached out and took both of her hands in his which caused a small smile to appear on Scully’s face.  He didn’t know how to ask her to come back, to stay, to never leave him again. He desperately wanted her to stay again. The truth was he hadn’t slept so well in ages just knowing that she was here.

               “I’ve learned how to make a pretty mean spaghetti and meatballs.  I could have it ready…”  He trailed off hoping she would say yes to coming back after her shift.

               “No vegetables?  Mulder how have you managed to live so long without fruits and vegetables in your diet?”  He teasingly rolled his eyes,

               “The sauce has tomatoes in it, Scully.” He said in fake exasperation.

               “Ahhh, well how could I say no then?”  Mulder couldn’t help himself.  He took a step closer, took her left hand in both of his and kissed where a wedding band should have been.  He had begun kissing that part of her almost as soon as they had moved in together as if a silent promise on what was to come.

                 Her twelve-hour shift had been a blur.  Her thoughts were invaded by William.   Was he tall like Mulder, or small like her? Was he a good student, did he play any sports, was he a good person?  This week was going to be one of the longest of her life and it was only Monday. Mulder had emailed her earlier and said he had bought their airline tickets for Friday night.  They had both agreed that going out the night before made more sense in case of any delays.  Mulder.  God, he was slowly creeping back into her everyday life again and she just couldn’t imagine being hurt by him again.  Again. How many times had they hurt one another, been torn apart only to find their way back to each other?  She had never loved a man the way she loved Mulder. She told herself that she had to focus on Saturday and not dwell on Mulder.  Of course not thinking about Mulder was something she had never been any good at. She remembered that kiss from this morning and how it had made her feel which consequently had made her check the clock often that day.  She never clock-watched on her shifts because frankly she was too busy, but today she had found the time.  Ironic. The thought of spaghetti cooked by Mulder made her chuckle.  In all the years that they had been together he had only cooked a handful of times and it had never been memorable.

                 It was quarter to nine by the time she pulled up to his little house and she was surprised to see it as lit up as it was. She started walking up the front steps when the door swung open.

               “Hey, I was getting worried that maybe you didn’t want to chance my cooking after all.”

               “You live in the middle of nowhere, Mulder” she replied “it takes a while to get here.”  He moved aside to let her pass and he realized that she was carrying her overnight bag this time.  He hoped that didn’t mean she wasn’t planning on wearing the Knicks shirt again.

               “Smells good in here, Mulder.  I’m impressed.”  She looked back to find him starring at her.

               “It won’t disappoint.” He said walking by her and back into the kitchen.

                 The small kitchen table that had been one of their first joint purchases together had been cleaned of all the papers that it usually held and instead two placemats and a lit candle were all that graced it.

               “You cleaned up.”  Scully said and almost instantly regretted it when she saw his face fall.  The kitchen table and eating at it had been a huge fight just before she had packed up her things.  

               “Yeah well I haven’t had anyone to dine with in quite a while.”  He said, his tone more bitter than he had intended

               “Look, I’m sorry, I just….I didn’t mean it like that, it just sort of became the spot where everything went.”  She walked towards him and touched his forearm which led to her fingers gently caressing down to his hand where she squeezed it. Her eyes implored him to accept her apology.  

               “Well my spaghetti and meatballs deserve a clean table.”  The tension immediately eased and Scully let go of his hand instantly missing his touch and asked,

               “Can I help?”

               “Just sit.  I’ve got it all handled.”  Mulder said looking rather pleased with himself.  Scully sat and a moment later Mulder placed a plate in front of her piled with his spaghetti and meatballs that she had to admit smelled amazing. Without asking, he poured her a glass of red wine and put it in front of her.

               “Your fruit potion of the meal.”  He joked, smirking at her.  She smiled and darted her eyes down to her plate not wanting him to see the effect he could still have on her so easily.

  Chapter 3

 Tuesday, September 8, 2016

 The next morning, she rose early again and the night before swam into her mind once she realized that she wasn’t in her own bed; instead her cheek was pressed against Mulder’s shoulder.  She remembered the delicious meal that Mulder had cooked.  After she helped him clean up Mulder had put on an old movie and they had just sat in silence, both watching it, but also watching the other. At one point, Mulder snaked his arm around her and drew her in close.  She didn’t hesitate and leaned in, spooning her body perfectly where she knew it fit with his.  His fingers toyed with the hem of the Knicks shirt sleeve that she had changed into. At some point in the early morning she had woken up to find them each asleep on the couch, her body still cuddled up to him with both of his arms draped protectively around her.  She didn’t move, she missed this, missed the routine of being a couple.  It often was not fancy instead it was pajamas and a bad movie, but the simplicity after all these years was what they both enjoyed.

                 Her stirring roused Mulder who tightened his grip around her before releasing.  His eyes fluttered open and he didn’t seem the least bit surprised to find her still in his arms.

               “Hey, good sleep?” he asked in a yawn.

               “Very.” She answered trying to stretch her muscles. She suddenly heard her phone start ringing which she had left in the bedroom.  She rose to go after it and Mulder got up to start their coffee.

               “Hi Bill” Scully said as her greeting to her oldest brother who was in Germany and apparently hadn’t taken the time difference into account when he called.

               “No, no I can get that to you later.”  She paused, listening to him then said, “because I’m not home right now.”  Just then Mulder’s voice boomed from the kitchen,

               “I only have cream, no sugar.”

               “I’m at Mulder’s” she said as he walked in to the room.

               “Save it, Bill.” She said into the phone, turning her back to Mulder.

               “Look I’ll call you later.” And with that she hung up.

               “I see he still has a special place in his heart for me.”

               “It’s none of his business.”  She said as she walked up him, then looked like she might stop but continued past him and said,

               “Cream is fine” before disappearing into the bathroom. A moment later he heard the shower turn on.

                 She was leaving again and he was tempted to think of a reason for her to stay over again, to come back, but before he could say anything she put her hand up and placed her palm on his chest and said,

               “I’ve got an overnight so I’ll call you.”  He knew he couldn’t push it, but just the feel of her hand on his chest made him warm.  They had been a part for too long to just get back together as if nothing had happened.  He nodded and gave her a half smile.

  Chapter 4

 Tuesday, September 8, 2016

                 The classroom was silent save for the pencils scratching at the papers.  Everyone’s heads were bent, their shoulders hunched as they read and answered the mid-term questions.  William sat in the far back, taking in the scene around him.  The air was cold and the school’s old heating system was having a hard time keeping up with the below average temperatures that had been plaguing them for weeks now.  William absently played with the tattered cuff of his sweatshirt while his worn Converse shoes tapped out a beat that only he heard.  He had been done with his mid-term for the last fifteen minutes, having answered all the questions in what was likely record-breaking time. Math had just always come easy to him. His parents had always had a tough time challenging him and his rural Wyoming school wasn’t exactly up to the task either.  

               William’s eyes caught one of his fellow students who stared at him, and mouthed ‘are you done?’  William shook his head and looked back down at his test.  He was very aware that the other students didn’t much care for him, he always seemed to ruin the curve which didn’t make him many friends in high school.  He sighed, he hated that he had to hide his intelligence just so that he wouldn’t be beaten up or openly teased.  He had always tried to live under the radar, to blend in and not be seen.  He had learned at an early age to keep most of himself away from the eyes of others.  Finally, the bell rang and he stood up, swung his backpack straps over his shoulders and shuffled to the front of the classroom where he deposited his mid-term in the growing pile on his teacher’s desk.  

                 As he made his way to his next class he kept thinking of meeting his real parents in just a few days.  He was hoping that they could provide the clues as to why he never felt settled, always anxious and on edge, like he was waiting for something to happen.  He wondered if they would understand him because no one else sure did, well except for his best friend, Amy but even she didn’t always get him.  He pushed his fingers through his hair, combing the errant lock that always fell into his eyes as he walked into his next class and took a seat in the Chemistry lab.

Chapter 5

 Thursday, September 9, 2016

 Scully made good on her promise to call him.  Thursday afternoon Mulder was in his office staring at his computer screen, not really reading the article before him when his cell phone chirped.

               “Hi” he answered, his voice soft.  He had spent the last day and a half replaying their last two evenings together in his head.  

               “Hi” Scully said sounding tired.  She was getting too old for these overnights. There were times like today when she put serious thought into joining a practice and having a normal schedule. She had spent much of the morning trying to keep up with her domestic duties and cleaned her apartment, bought a night’s worth of dinner and did some laundry so she would have clean clothes to put in her suitcase later that night.  She had tried and failed to keep herself busy enough to not obsess over William and what he might need from her.  Had he needed her the past fifteen years?  Was he sick?  The only person she could speak to about this was Mulder.  He kept William so close, he was never the first one to bring him up, it was always her.  She often thought that it was because he had missed so much of it.  He’d nearly missed all of it.  He wasn’t there when she had found out.  He wasn’t there when she had had morning sickness for so many months. He hadn’t been there when she picked out the crib, the bassinet, the clothes.  He had missed out on all of that.  She feared that he wouldn’t be returned in time for the birth, for the first steps, first everything.  The fear had turned to grief which had slowly turned to anger over the unfairness of it all. Then he had been returned to her and all those feelings suddenly vanished.   The first two days had been rocky.  I don’t know where I fit in to all of this. The second night he had turned up at her door.  His simply greeting had been,

 “I’m sorry I was such an asshole.”  He had hung his head and stood, slumped against her doorway.  She knew he had been through so much so she grabbed his hand and pulled him in knowing that they needed to talk.  She was so exhausted that they had gone straight to the bedroom.  He had sat down towards the bottom and began to massage one of her feet, penitence for his earlier transgression.  She remembered their talk vividly.

               “I can’t believe how beautiful you look pregnant.”

               “I’m huge, Mulder.”

               “No.  Pregnant. With our child.”  His eyes had been so full of love.

               “What do you need, do you have a doctor appointment soon?”   He had been so eager to be part of it all.  She remembered looking at him like he had two heads, unwilling to believe that he was really Mulder and not a MulderClone.

               “What?  I’m sorry, I just couldn’t believe that all this had happened while I was gone and it took me a while to pull my head out of my ass.”

               “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”  

“I actually have a Lamaze class…”  He had smiled that devilish smile of his and put her foot down that he had been massaging so he could bend down and lay his head on her stomach so his ear was flush to her belly button.

“hmmm.  Yep. Junior here” as he gently padded the side of her stomach “would like that.”  She had laughed at that and pulled him up to her so he was lying right next to her.

“Never give up on a miracle.”  He whispered.  With that she started crying and she remembered how he had taken her in his arms and wrapped her up and let her cry, really cry and she kept saying how she couldn’t believe he was back and she had prayed for so long that he wouldn’t miss the birth of their child.  The next few days he had been very attentive, always at her apartment, insisting on taking her everywhere, making her sit and relax, cleaning up the dishes. One night after he had cleaned up their dishes from pizza he flopped down next to her and said,

“We need to talk.”  She had been so relaxed that his words didn’t register right away. He closed his hand over hers and gently said,

“Scully, we need to figure out living arrangements.” She looked up at him, quizzical as to what he had meant.

“I can’t keep shuttling between my apartment and here.  I can’t exactly get up in the middle of the night when I’m thirty minutes away.”

“What are you trying to get at?”

“I think I need to move in here.  You’re going to need a lot of help, especially at first.”

“I guess I never really thought about that.” She was lying, she had thought about it, but he hadn’t been there to discuss it when she had first found out and all the emotions and thoughts had been swirling around her brain day and night. After all the months of his being gone, she hadn’t allowed herself the notion of him even being around for the birth, let alone here and wanting to help.

“Well…can we talk about it now?”

“Yes.  You just can’t keep your clothes on my floor and I’ll teach you how to squeeze a tube of toothpaste.”  She looked over at him and grinned.  He tried to look offended, but the sparkle in his eyes gave him away.

“I promise to be perfectly neat and clean.”

 Those first two weeks before he had left had been like a dream.  He had been the father and pseudo husband that she had always secretly hoped he would one day be.  He had moved into her apartment a few weeks prior so they would be ready as soon as she gave birth.  He slept, with his body wrapped protectively around hers, got up in the middle of the night to change William, to comfort him or to just bring him to her so she could feed him without having to get up herself.  His love for them both had been overwhelming.  He was forever talking to William in his soft, gentle voice.  She teased him at one point calling him the “baby whisperer” because whenever William was upset he would almost instantly settle down when Mulder would cradle him in his arms.  After he left the first time William got himself going and she knew that he needed his father she cried.  She held William in her arms and sobbed.  She longed for him at that moment and her longing turned to anger. Anger at leaving them.  Anger at him for not wanting to stay and hold his baby, to comfort him in the way only he could.  She had needed him too.  She needed his love, his support more than ever and he had left.  She had been left to make all the decisions.  She knew that when she spoke to him that she always said “as parents we had to make the decision” but he hadn’t.  No, he wasn’t there to make the decision.  She had had to do it.  She had been terrified to tell him, to explain that she had given away their son, their miracle, their one true tangible expression of their love and devotion to one another.  Of course he wasn’t angry, he never blamed her.  She knew he blamed himself.  She knew that he carried the same guilt that she did.

                 “What have you been up to, Mulder?”

               “Looking up new recipes to try out on you.”  He said hoping that he wasn’t being too forward, but he was hooked on her being back in his life.  Dana Scully was his drug, one taste and he always needed more.

               “Do they include vegetables?”

               “Perhaps…” he chuckled loving the easy back and forth they always had.  It didn’t matter how long that they had been a part, they always fell back into it.  

               “How was the overnight?”

               “Oh, you know, the same.  It’s getting exhausting, Mulder.”  Mulder heard it, heard her opening up to him in a way that she hadn’t in a long time.  He immediately felt pressured to say the right thing.  One wrong move and she would shut down on him.

               “Tell me about it.”  

               “I just don’t feel the same passion for it that I once did.  I still love pediatric medicine, but I just don’t know if I want to do it in a hospital setting any longer.”

               “I can understand that.  Are you thinking of a private practice?”

               “Possibly.”  Scully sighed.  How did he always know what she was thinking?  The silence hung between them.  “Well I guess I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow.”

               “Yeah, I’ll meet you at the gate” Mulder said feeling an overwhelming sense of dread that their conversation was about to be over only having just begun.

               “Sleep well.”  Scully said.  Mulder chuckled and said,

               “Yeah, you too.” Knowing that neither one would be getting much rest tonight.

                 It was 10:30pm when he pulled up to her apartment complex.  It was the first time he’d ever laid eyes on it.  He had never wanted to see it because seeing it would make it all real. He knew that he had been a fool to think that because all he had to do was look around his tiny house to know that she was gone.  The emptiness he carried around that nothing and no one would ever be able to fill. He parked and got out hoping that he wasn’t making a mistake by showing up at her place uninvited.

                 Scully had changed into her pajamas and was sitting on her couch channel surfing when she heard the soft, almost hesitant knock at her door.  She knew instinctively who it was.  Her FBI training made her check the peep hole to be sure and of course there he was, overnight bag in hand.

               “Is something wrong?”  She asked as she opened the door and motioned with her arm for him to come inside.  He stepped in and looking into her cool blue eyes he said,

               “I just figured that since neither of us would be sleeping tonight that we might as well not do it together.”  Scully smiled at him, knowing that he was right.

               “Would you like to sit?”  

               “Umm yeah, sure.”  Mulder suddenly felt very awkward in her home.  He dropped his overnight bag near her door and walked over and took a seat on the edge of the couch. His eyes darted around, taking in her living room.  His eyes caught a framed photo sitting on the side table.  It was of them at the beach on Martha’s Vineyard.  His mom had taken it of them on one of their first visits out to see her once they had officially become a couple.  Mulder was standing behind her with his arms wrapped around her and his chin rested comfortably on the top of her head.  They were both smiling in the photo happy to finally be “out” as a couple and enjoying a moment of pure happiness with one another.

               “Remember that trip?”  Scully asked him as she sat down closer to him than he had expected her to.

               “Yeah.  It was so peaceful.  We practically had the whole island to ourselves.”

               “I remember how happy your mom was to have us there.  I think she was thrilled to see you finally let loose and be happy.”  Mulder remembered that too, he remembered his mom taking him aside at one point and asking him if ‘she was the one.’  His response had been an idiotic smile and she had known.  

               “If I remember correctly this photo was taken before you learned that sand does indeed get everywhere.”  Mulder said playfully and Scully laughed remembering and said,

               “Well Mulder I don’t exactly recall a ‘no’ escaping your lips.”

               “You know me Scully, I can’t ever say no to you.” The room fell silent and her eyes darted down to the carpet.  Damnit he thought to himself.  Why did I have to go and say a thing like that?  Things were going well and then I have to say something to make it nice and awkward.  Scully reached out and covered his hand with hers and looked into his eyes and said,

               “For better or for worse.”  He knew what that meant.  He let her do what she needed to do without trying to stand in her way. It was why he was sitting in her apartment and not their home.  If he had just been stronger and had told her ‘no’ you can’t move out, we have to work this out then maybe the past two years wouldn’t have been such a giant sack of suck for either of them.  He met her gaze and brought her hand up to his mouth and once again his lips grazed her left ring finger where he wished he had had the courage to put a ring on her finger years ago.

                 The idea had crossed his mind on multiple occasions, but it had never felt more right than two nights after William had been born. He had been sitting alone with him on the couch allowing Scully to get a few extra hours of sleep.  He was staring into his beautiful little boy’s blue eyes and knew that he deserved it all.  He deserved married parents, a home with a backyard, parents who didn’t have life threatening jobs.  The last two items would take a bit longer, but the first would be easy.  He knew that she longed for it, a real life.  A life where weekends were spent at parks and not flying to another nowhere city chasing after shadows that may or may not be there.  He could give her that.  Hell he wanted that too.

               “Do you want a glass of water?”  Scully asked bringing him out of the past and right smack back into the present.

               “Sure.”  He watched her get up and immediately missed the warmth of her body so close to his. When she walked back in and handed him his glass of water she leaned over and ran her fingers along his jawbone, scarping his day old stubble and sending electric currents shuddering throughout his body.  She stared at him with that contemplative look that she often got when trying to figure him out and eventually said,

               “You look exhausted Mulder.  Come on let’s at least try and get some sleep.”  She took his hand in hers and pulled him up off the couch.  ‘Wait? What is she asking him?  Did she seriously want him to sleep in bed with her?’  She watched as the worry spread over his face and she laughed, that little girl laugh that he always adored and said,

               “Mulder, I think that we are capable of sharing a bed together.  Grab your bag and let’s go.”  She padded away from him and into her bedroom where he saw the light suddenly illuminate the doorway.  He stood, rooted to his spot, unable to move.  Suddenly he smiled, realizing that this was what he’d been hoping for, a chance to become “them” again.  Well she didn’t have to ask him twice.  He walked over to his overnight bag, slung it over his shoulder and walked into her bedroom. When he entered he saw her removing all of her decorative pillows that she insisted on placing there every day for reasons he never understood.  

               “Hey…I uhh brought you something.”  He said shyly as he placed his overnight bag onto her bed and started to unzip it.  She stood, curious, wondering what he could have in there and she smiled as soon as she saw the familiar blue material.  Mulder gently tossed it over to her.  She caught it and said,

               “Thanks.  I’ve missed it.”  Mulder nodded and averted his eyes back down to his bag and pulled out his black gym shorts and heather gray t-shirt.

               “I’m going to go wash up.”  Scully said over her shoulder as she walked into her bathroom. By the time she had washed the day off of her face and changed into her favorite pajamas she found Mulder stretched out on ‘his’ side of the bed looking more beautiful than she had allowed herself to remember.  Scully stopped herself, ‘I can’t think like that.  I am about to platonically share a bed with Mulder so I can’t allow myself to look at him that way.’  She walked over to her bedside table and clicked the lamp off hoping that if she couldn’t see his face, see his body that she would stop having those thoughts. ‘Yeah right’ she thought to herself. She climbed into bed and curled herself up away from his body.        Mulder leaned down and brought the sheet and comforter over them.  He rolled over, placing his arm over her waist and in that husky whisper that he saved for the bedroom asked,

               “Who do you think he looks like now?  He had your coloring and your eyes, but do you think he has any of me in him, Scully?”  His voice broke at the end, betraying his emotions.

               “Of course.”  Scully said as she rolled herself over so she could face him.  “I’m sure he has so much of you in him. You’re his father, Mulder.”  She gently traced the stubble of his jaw, trying to reassure him with her touch.  

               “I miss him every day.  I know I don’t show you, but I do.  I couldn’t believe how in love with him I was from the first time I saw him. He was so tiny and perfect.  All I wanted to do was protect him.  Scully, do you know that’s why I left?  Do you understand that I didn’t leave you because I was afraid?  I left you both so I could ensure all of our protection.”

               “Mulder?  Where is this coming from?  Of course I knew.  We talked about it before you left.”

               “I just never wanted you to think, for William to think, that I left you both.  I loved you both too much to think that someday, somehow you would be taken from me. Like Samantha was.  I lost her and then I went and lost our son.”

               “Oh, Mulder.”  Scully, now, for the first time realized why Mulder didn’t talk about William the same way she did.  He had the same guilt over losing him as he did his sister.

               “I just want you to know I did it because I loved, love you both.”  With that confession she pulled him to her and stroked his back.  She ran her hand up to his neck and let him bury his face into her chest.  His body heaved a few times and then settled.  Scully whispered,

               “It’s okay, it’s okay.” And then “I love you too.” She kissed the top of his head. They both drifted off to sleep with her still cradling him in her arms, keeping him close and the nightmares away.

 Chapter 6

Friday, September 10, 2016

 The next morning Mulder awoke to an empty bed.  He could still smell her scent that was embedded in her sheets, could still feel where she had been next to him all night.  Last night came crashing back to him, hit him like a wave. ‘God.  I can’t believe I cried in her arms.’  He thought as he rolled onto his back and scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.  The next day was going to be emotional enough for her, why had he gone and done something like that?’  Scully walked in, interrupting his thoughts.

               “Hey there, want some breakfast?  I’m about to make omelets.”  

               “Sounds perfect.” He said, smiling in spite of himself. He got out of bed and followed her in to the kitchen.  The coffee pot was full so after doing a little searching in her cabinets he finally found her mugs and poured them both a generous amount of coffee.

                 Mulder and Scully spent much of the morning avoiding talking about what the next day would bring.  Their avoidance of the subject did nothing to alleviate their nerves and by the time they landed in Wyoming the weight of what had been not talked about was crushing.  

                 There they stood at their separate hotel room doors, adjoining room as always, but separate spaces.  Mulder swiped his key card and Scully followed.  Mulder turned, before stepping through his doorway and said,

               “Good night, Scully.  I’m just a door away.”

               “I’m fine, Mulder.  Goodnight.”  With that she stepped through her own doorway and let the door shut behind her.  As she stepped further into her room and laid her suitcase on her bed she thought, ‘ Why am I being so rude to him?  Why can’t I admit to him that I’m terrified about tomorrow?’  She knew the truth.  The truth was, she didn’t need to verbalize it to him.  He already knew.

                 Mulder let out a heavy sigh and walked into his own room and let the door close behind him.  He knew to leave her alone when she was in one of those moods.  She needed time with her feelings, to sort them out and figure out how to deal with them.  Twenty some years and she still needed to feel certain things away from him. He decided to get comfortable and watch TV.  It was early, only eight o’clock so he hoped that the television would help to distract him from tomorrow.  He went into the bathroom to take a quick shower and wash the plane ride off of him.

                 Scully looked at the bedside clock and saw that it read, eight o’clock.  She was tired, but not tired enough to turn in for the evening.  If they had just talked about what they were both feeling, then perhaps their adjoining door would be open and they would be lying in only bed watching TV together.  She walked over and unlocked the door.

                 Mulder came out of the bathroom and flicked the TV on and tried to find something worth watching.  His eyes kept wandering over to that damn door.  On the other side was Scully.  The mother of his child, the love of his sad pathetic life and he wasn’t about to keep her out if she needed him tonight.  He had needed her last night.  She had held him and comforted him so he wanted nothing more than to do the same for her if she needed it.

 Chapter 7

 Saturday, September 11

                 The cell phone buzzed on the desk, tearing Williams eyes from the computer screen he’d been staring at for the past four hours. He grinned when he saw who the text message was from.  He picked up the phone and read it.

               “You awake?”  He quickly typed back,

               “What else would I be doing?”  His reply was his phone ringing.

               “Hey, Ames.”

               “Most people would be asleep at one in the morning, Will.”

               “What’s your excuse?” he asked playfully.

               “Couldn’t sleep.  I’m so excited that your birth parents agreed to meet you.”

               “That’s why you’re my best friend, Ames.”

               “Will, I’m you’re only friend.”  He chuckled and then said,

               “Well that’s because everyone else thinks I’m a freak.”

               “That’s because of all the weird symbols you were always drawing in class as a kid and telling everyone that they actually meant something.”

               “Yeah, well I’ve learned my lesson on that one.” He glanced over at the pile of notebooks he kept secreted away between his bed and the wall.  The pages of the notebooks that kept all of the things that he saw in his head, but couldn’t explain to anyone but Amy.  He knew that she didn’t understand them either, but at least she didn’t make fun of him or think he was a freak for drawing them. He learned at a young age to keep what he saw a secret.  He used to freely draw them on schoolwork, binders, just about everywhere.  His first grade teacher thought he was just a daydreamer and told his parents that he needed to concentrate harder on his schoolwork.  His second grade teacher thought that his parents might be practicing the Occult and that was where the symbols had come from.  After a visit from the local Children and Families Protective Agency, William had learned to keep his drawings a secret.  All the kids thought he was a freak, a nerd for imagining that those symbols were anything other than marks on the page.  What William was never able to explain was, he thought in those symbols.  He sighed.

                 “I hope that they’ll be able to explain all of this.”

               “and if they can’t?”  Amy was always the more logical of the two and sometimes it drove him nuts.

               “If anyone has a chance, it has to be them. It’s just, I don’t know, a feeling I have.”  Amy knew all about Will’s ‘feelings’ as they had been around since she’d met him and they were right each time which frankly annoyed her.  

               “So, you want to come over after school on Monday?” William smiled that lopsided smile that secretly drove Amy nuts and said,

               ��Where else would I go?”

 Chapter 8

 Saturday, September 11, 2016

                 Morning came and Mulder stood outside Scully’s hotel room door, loitering in the hallway.  When the door finally opened and she stepped out he could see the softness in her features that hadn’t been there last night.  Scully closed the distance between them and took both of his hands in hers and said,

               “Mulder, I’m glad I’m doing this with you.” Her voice was soft.  He bent his head to the side and looked at her, confusion filling his face.

               “I’m glad it was you….” She trailed off suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed.  Mulder understood, smiled and said,

               “I’d be anything you need me to be, you know that.” The corners of his mouth turned up and his eyes grew dark.  Scully raised herself up to her tiptoes and instinctively he bent down to meet her. She cupped his face with her hands and gently kissed his lips and then, barely pulling away whispered,

               “I know, Mulder.” She stayed there a half a beat longer than she intended, fixed by those green hazel eyes that had grown darker, liquid desire that she remembered fondly.  She sank back down to the flat of her feet, grabbed his hand and gave him a tug.

               “Let’s go.”  He nearly fell over himself from that tug.  His mind was reeling, ‘did Scully really just kiss me and look at me that way?  Did she really have the same desire that he knew had been evident in his own eyes.’

               “Are you hungry?”  her question pulled him out of his thoughts.  

               “I don’t think my stomach would accept food.” He said, looking over at her, curious as to what she was thinking.

               “Okay, but I do need coffee.”

               “Let’s grab some on the way.  I don’t think I can bare to swallow another cup of hotel coffee.”  Mulder said just as they passed the buffet line where people were filling their mugs with their liquid drug.  He received a few glares and smiles in return.

                 The touch was soft, almost hesitant.  William stirred, rolled over and mumbled into his pillow.  

               “Will, honey.  If you want some breakfast before they get here, you need to get up.  I’m making some French toast.”  William’s eyes fluttered open and he lifted his head a fraction of an inch off the pillow and in the direction of his mom’s voice.

               “Ok.  I’ll be down in a minute.”  Louise turned, satisfied that William would be down soon and turned to leave his room. She glanced over at the untidy stack of notebooks that were always stacked precariously between the bed and the wall.  She made a mental note to neaten that pile up the next time she was tidying up.  

               William finally left the comfort of his bed and padded down to the kitchen, aware that his adoptive parents were likely going to be very much on edge this morning due to his birth parents impending arrival. He knew that they had been trying to be excited for him the past week, but he could see beyond the happy masks that they wore.  He had tried to explain that he wasn’t seeking them out due to him being angry with them, but because he was curious about where he had come from.  

               “Good night sleep?”  John asked as he looked up over the newspaper he was holding out in front of him, his French toast already eaten.

               “Yep.”  

               “Good.  Good. Big day, huh?”  John was hoping to illicit a bit more conversation out of his son than his typical one word responses.  He remembered thinking when he was a toddler that William might never stop talking, but the older he got the more silent he seemed to become.

               “Yeah.”  William responded right before shoving a forkful of French toast in his mouth effectively ending the conversation.  Louise busied herself with the homemade chocolate chip cookies she was preparing. She was desperate to show these people just how normal and wholesome their home had always been.  John flipped his newspaper back up and continued reading about the affairs of the world.

                 Forty-five minutes later and not one word spoken but for the coffee order and they were pulling up to the gravel driveway to a large farmhouse, complete with wrap around deck.  Scully grabbed Mulder’s hand and squeezed it tight.  He pulled to a stop and put the car in park and said,

               “Just tell me when you’re ready.  We don’t have to move until you’re ready.”  His voice was soft and full of love.  Scully choked back tears and nodded quickly.

               “I’m ready.” And with that she stiffened her spine and threw open the car door.  Mulder followed and walked around the car to her.  He brought his hand up to her chin, laid his fingers just under it and gently turned her face until she was looking at him.  He then dropped his hands to hers, held them up to his heart and said,

               “I’m right here, Scully.  Always.”  She nodded in response, not trusting her voice just yet.  There were times when his love and caring was too much for her to handle.  She turned and faced the house once more.  Her son was inside.  The baby she had given up was inside, waiting.  Her stomach started doing somersaults.  Mulder watched her intently.  He knew just how strong she was, but this was the one thing that brought her to her knees.

               They hadn’t known it, but there were being watched. She hadn’t been able to sleep all week knowing that they were coming, “they” Williams birth parents and they were FBI agents no less.  She knew this day would eventually arrive, had known for the past fifteen years. They had always been honest with William.  She and John had agreed upon that right away.  Lying to him was not an option so when he had come to them a few months back and asked them if he could contact his birth parents it hadn’t been a shock, difficult, but not shocking.  True to his sweet, sensitive nature he had begun earnestly explaining that it wasn’t because he didn’t love them anymore, or that he was upset with them, he just had to meet them.  He wanted to understand where he had come from.  They had understood and started the procedures.  They had even managed to pretend to be excited for him.  All she could think about was that they were the Feds and if they wanted to, they could walk out of the house with him.  When they turned, she stepped away from the window and moved further into the house.  The familiar creaking of the stairs up to the porch was shortly followed by a loud knock.  John appeared in the room and looked at her puzzled as to why she was just standing there with her thumb and forefinger caressing the tiny cross that was a constant presence around her neck.

               “Well…are you going to let them in or what?”  he asked rather gruffly.  He just wanted this whole thing over and done with so he could get back to his life and not have his wife flitting about, in a constant state of worry.

               “Oh, yes, yes of course.  She dropped her cross, brushed the hair that had fallen onto her face and approached the door.  With one big breath she opened it.

               “Welcome.  Come in.” She greeted them with a big smile that she hoped didn’t look too rehearsed and took a step aside to allow them to enter.

               “Hi, I’m John and this is my wife, Louise.”  John stuck out his hand and shook both of theirs, desperately trying to take the awkwardness out of the situation with familiar social gestures.

               Hi.  I’m Fox Mulder and…” he looked over at Scully,

               “Dana.  Dana Scully.” She blurted out her voice faltering more than she had hoped.

               “Did you find us ok?”  John asked as he moved towards his wife and put a reassuring arm around her shoulders.

               “Umm…yeah, it sure is out here, huh?”  Mulder absently commented as he took a peek around trying to envision his son here.

               “Yeah, well we like the quiet.  A bit different from D.C. I would imagine.”

               “Right.”  Mulder didn’t know how much more small talk he could manage when all he could think about was seeing his son.  He was grateful for John and his seemingly ease at the task he often felt arduous. Sensing the lull John said,

               “I heard the shower turn off a few minutes ago so I’m sure he’ll be down any minute.”

               “Maybe I should go up and let him know that they’ve arrived.”  Louise offered.

               “That’s okay, I’m sure he’ll be down shortly.” Scully said smiling.  As if on cue they heard thundering footsteps coming down the stairs.  Both Mulder and Scully turned in the direction of the sound and both breathed in quickly when their eyes locked on him.  Their son.  William. He was tall with reddish brown hair that fell over his crisp blue eyes.  He was long and lean and had on tattered jeans and a faded Polo shirt.  He wore a lopsided grin and awkwardly finished his walk into the room.

               “Ummm…Hi.”  He offered unsure now that they stood before him what exactly to say.

               “Hi.” They both said in unison.

               “Can I?” and he held out his arms in an offer for a hug as a way to finish his question.  All Scully could do was nod as tears streamed down her face.  He closed the distance in only three long strides and wrapped his arms around her.  He closed his eyes and sighed audibly.  Scully was trembling, he felt so good, smelled so good and was still warm from his shower.  He tightened his embrace and then released her and took a step back and looked her in the eyes.  She saw her own eyes staring back at her.  William then turned to Mulder who had tears in his eyes that were threatening to spill over his eyelids.  Mulder took a step closer and embraced his son.  He had held his son in his arms for the first two weeks of his life, but he had never had the opportunity to embrace him and God it felt good.  After a few moments each broke free.

               “Well, umm..I put cookies and lemonade in the kitchen. Dad and I are going to sit outside on the back porch, give you three some privacy.”

               “Okay.”  William answered and then turned, facing Mulder and Scully.

               “So, uh, here let me show you where...” he gestured to the hallway which led to the kitchen.

               “Lead on.” Mulder said placing his hand to the small of Scully’s back and following behind.

               “So, uh, here, sit.”  William offered with a wave of his hand towards the kitchen table which had fresh, homemade chocolate chip cookies and a pitcher full of lemonade sitting on it.  Three plates and glasses were next to the cookies.

               “So, I don’t know what to call you?”  William questioned as they all looked around the kitchen.  

               “Mulder and Dana are fine.”  Mulder said as he turned to look at William who seemed more or less as nervous as he knew they were both feeling.

   Scully walked over to the table, but the refrigerator caught her eye and she paused.  She noticed a lifetime of photos scattered across its front.  A pictorial timeline of Williams life.  She happened to glance at a piece of old construction paper, the edges curled, but the symbols drawn across it in a toddler’s haphazard scrawl were unmistakable.  She stopped, bent down and stared.  Mulder noticed her posture and came up behind her,

“Scully, what is it?”  She pointed at the drawing as she looked over her shoulder.  Mulder bent and looked, then looked over at her.

“You know what that is, don’t you?”  William came up behind them.

“We’ve seen it before.  When did you draw these?”  Scully asked as she rose and looked at William.

“I was three.  Do you know what it means?”

“I spent a long time deciphering symbols just like that many years ago, but no, I don’t know what it means, exactly.”

“I have notebooks full of them.  I can show you.”  Mulder and Scully looked at William and nodded without saying a word.  William turned and left, venturing back up the stairs to his room where he found his notebooks.  He came back down and found both Mulder and Scully sitting at the kitchen table.  He dropped the notebooks between them both and sat down.  He opened up the notebook on top and flipped through the pages with nothing but the symbols from the craft that Scully had investigated on the African Ivory Coast all those years ago.  Scully drew the notebook closer and flipped through more carefully and studied the pages as she went.

“It seems to be the same thing over and over.”

“Yeah.  I couldn’t get it out of my head.  I had to keep writing it, but look.”  He flipped further in and the symbols became more complex as the pages went on.  

“Here.  This is when I was eight.”  Scully examined the page.  It was indeed more complex, the symbols seeming to create their own flow on the page. “This.”  William said as he pulled a notebook from the bottom of the stack, “is from last week.”  He opened the notebook and there they found the most complex set of symbols yet.  The page was full with tiny, but neat handwriting.

“Do you know what this means?”  Mulder asked, finally looking up from the page.

“Yeah, but I don’t understand it.  It’s a chemical compound.”  Scully’s head jerked up,

“What do you mean, a chemical compound?”  Scully asked as she pulled the notebook closer thinking that perhaps something would leap off the page at her as something that she could understand.

“I think it’s like a vaccine or an antidote or something, but to what I don’t know.”  William shrugged his shoulders at that.  

“Oh my God.”  Scully breathed out in a rush.

“What?  What is it?” William placed his hand on Scully’s arm trying to get her attention.

“The vaccine.  Mulder…” Mulder was already looking at William with wide eyes.

“Vaccine?”  William looked between them both as he watched a silent communication exchanged in the blink of the eye.

“I can’t believe that all these years and you’ve known what this all means.” William shook his head, his fists balling up in anger.  Mulder and Scully looked over at him aware of his sudden change in mood.

“Do you know what I’ve been through?  I’ve been a freak at school, my parents thought there was something wrong with me and you, and you, the people who did know were nowhere to be found.”

“William, we had no idea that you were doing this.”  Mulder said as he laid his hand on his shoulder.  William angrily shrugged it off and stood up, nearly knocking the chair over in his anger.  Mulder and Scully both stood awkwardly, unsure of how to quell his sudden burst of anger.

“Right.  How could you?  You gave me away, sent me to the middle of nowhere.  Was it because I might be like this?”

“William…no.  You’ve got it all wrong, we gave you up to protect you.”

“Bullshit.”  William spat out.  “And it’s Will, not William.”  

“Let’s sit, okay?”  Scully implored as she motioned to the chairs.  William pulled out the chair and flopped down in a huff.  Mulder and Scully followed and glanced at one another. Mulder began,

“Look back then, back before you were even born we both worked in the FBI in a division called, The X-Files where we investigated paranormal cases.  We ended up uncovering a lot of things that very powerful people didn’t want us to know about and our lives were in almost constant danger.  When Scully got pregnant we hoped that we could protect you, but William, sorry, Will, your life was almost immediately in danger.  You were even kidnapped and Scully had to find you.”

“Why didn’t you find me?”  William looked over at Mulder, his blue eyes bright with unshed tears.

“I wasn’t there.”  Mulder hung his head, unable to meet his son’s stare.  He knew it was going to be difficult, but the knot in his stomach was worse than he could have imagined.

“Oh. So, that’s it, huh?  You left and she couldn’t handle” he waved his hand towards Scully “being a single mom. Is that it?”  William slumped down in his chair and stared down at the table. He had hoped that his adoption hadn’t been quite so stereotypical.  Scully looked at Mulder and William and realized that they were so much alike, both wore their hearts on their sleeves.  She spoke softly,

“No.  He didn’t leave us, not like that, Will.  He was trying to find a way to protect you, to protect our family.”  

“I’m not a little kid, you don’t have to lie to me.”  William said, only above a whisper.

“It’s the truth.  He was there for your birth, he held and rocked you, he was able to make you stop crying by just talking to you.  He didn’t leave because he wanted to, he left because he had to.  He sacrificed that time with you, to try and protect us.” Mulder looked up, his eyes rimmed with red and with a simple look said, ‘Thank you’ to Scully for her words to William.

“From what?  From who?” William drew himself up and rested his elbows on the table, staring intently at Scully.

 The ringing of her cell phone stopped Scully from answering.  She grabbed it out of her back pocket with the intent of silencing it when she saw Skinner’s name appear on her caller ID.

               “It’s Skinner.”  She said looking at Mulder.

               “If it’s important then he’ll call me when you don’t answer.”  Mulder grabbed his phone out of his jacket pocket and placed it on the table awaiting its ring.

               “Who’s Skinner?”  William asked.

               “Our boss.”  Mulder said as Scully’s cell phone stopped ringing and his almost immediately began.

               “Sorry.  I need to take this.”  Mulder got up and wandered back into the living room.  What had made her think that she was strong enough to do this? She could hear Mulder’s muted voice coming in from the other room and she knew, he made her strong enough.  She looked back over at William who was studying her with the same intensity as Mulder often did.

                 “What?”  William asked suddenly aware of Scully’s look.

               “You just.”  She paused, unsure if she should put voice to her observations.  She shook her head to lift the doubt and finished, “You have so much of Mulder in you.”  To her relief and surprise, William smiled and leaned in closer as if to whisper in a conspiratorial tone, “What else?  What do you see?”

               “Well for starters you both wear your emotions on your sleeves.  You didn’t get that from me.”  Scully smiled and dropped her eyes down to the table suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed by the personal revelation.  She continued,

               “You have his same intensity.  It almost jumps off of you, just like him.  It’s what made me fall in love with him all those years ago.”  Scully smiled and put her hand on Will’s forearm.

               “So, um can I ask you a personal question?”

               “Of course.”

               “I noticed, well, I mean I don’t see wedding rings.”  Scully’s eyes darted to her left hand and sighed.

               “No. I guess the timing was just never right for us.”

               “But you guys are together.”  Will stated, rather than asked.

               “Not in any defined way, but yeah.  I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t someway together with Mulder.”  At this Scully chuckled and looked Will in the eyes.  Mulder ambled back in, tucking his cell phone back in his jacket pocket.

               “Everything ok?”  Scully asked noticing the pensive look that Mulder wore.

               “Yeah. We’ll just have to leave from here a little earlier than we thought.”  Mulder saw Scully about to protest but he held up a hand to stop her.

               “Don’t worry, I just got us a later flight tonight rather than tomorrow morning.  We won’t have to leave here” he pointed with his finger at the kitchen floor “any earlier.” Scully visibly relaxed and smiled. Mulder sat down at the table and looked back and forth between Will and Scully.   He could tell that the tension was gone which he was grateful for.

               “Do you feel it?”  Will asked.

               “What?”  Mulder and Scully both said in unison.

               “This.  The connection.  Us. Don’t you feel it?”

               “I do.”  Scully said looking at Will.

 It was finally time to say goodbye.  They had spent the time mostly discussing the past fifteen years of Will’s life and learning about him.  They had offered little pieces of themselves, but they were desperate to learn all they could of their son and who he was.  They were delighted to learn that he loved music, played the guitar, was a voracious reader, spent too many hours playing video games and could build just about anything whether it be a shed or a radio.

 “So, is this it?”  Will directed his question to his lap.

“No.  We’d love to see you again, if your…” Scully looked at the table and found her voice once again, “if your parents are okay with it.”

“Do you think that maybe I could come out to where you live?  I mean, I know you don’t live together, but maybe I could spend a few days at your place, Dana and a few days at yours, Mulder?” Mulder looked across the table at Scully who was desperately trying to keep the tears from falling.  He reached across the table to lace his fingers through hers and softly said,

“Yeah, Will, we’d like that very much.”  Will nodded and tried to hide his smile.

 They exchanged cell phone numbers so they could stay in contact.  Will asked if they texted and Scully had laughed and said that she had mastered it, but that he’d be better off calling Mulder. They had agreed that Scully would take home Will’s notebooks and run some preliminary tests off of his work to see if he really had come up with a vaccine.  She had promised to call him and let him know what she found and if she needed his help with deciphering the code.  Mulder had walked out the notebooks to the rental car earlier so John and Louise wouldn’t question why they were taking them with them.  They had both argued a bit with Will about not wanting to deceive his parents, but he had assured them that they were not open-minded and would not understand their wanting to research his symbols.

 “I better let my folks know that you’re leaving.  They’ll want to say, goodbye.”  Will shuffled off towards the back porch.  Scully took the opportunity to go back to the refrigerator and look at the photos once more.

               “Do you think he’s ok?”  Mulder asked coming up to Scully.  Her focus went back to the refrigerator and all the memories that were laid out before her that she had missed, on display as a marker of her lost time with her son.  She walked up to one picture that had caught her eye.  Her hand absently went up to the little boy with birthday cake mashed all over his face, sitting in his high chair, happy and seemingly oblivious that only six months prior he had had a different mother, a different father. Her thoughts wandered.  Would she and Mulder have had a cake for him like that? Did William still remember her at this point or was his adoptive mother all he knew and would always need? Mulder and Scully didn’t hear Louise walk into the kitchen.  Louise walked up to Scully and removed the magnet that was holding up the photo that she had been staring at.

               “Here.  I have copies.”  She placed it in Scully’s hand and folded her fingers over it.

               “Thank you.  For…for everything.”  She looked over at Will who seemed uncomfortable under her stare.

               Scully held tight to the photo as they all walked back to the front door.  

               “It was real nice of you folks to come out all this way.  I hope your travels home are safe.”  John said.

               “It was our pleasure.”  Mulder said and shook John’s hand.  An awkwardness settled over the room as the small talk concluded and there was nothing else to say.

               “Bye.  Take care.” Mulder turned and walked out the open front door and down the porch steps.

               “Bye.”  Scully turned to walk away, but looked over her shoulder back at William and caught his eyes.  She would later try to explain it to Mulder, but she knew she had been able to communicate with William with just her eyes, the same way that they had always been able to.

                 The drive to the hotel had been in silence just as the drive to the house had been earlier.  This silence wasn’t born out of fear or trepidation, but out of sorrow for a too short of a visit and all the emotions it had caused.  Mulder pulled up in front of the hotel and looked over at Scully who was looking out the passenger side window.

               “I’ll just go in and get our luggage.  I’ll just be a second.”  When she didn’t respond worry creased his brow.  He leaned over and touched her shoulder. She slowly turned her head.  

               “Ok.  Mulder. I’ll wait with the car.”  He was tempted to stay and try to figure out how she was holding up, but they had a little less than an hour to get to the airport and get to their gate.  He knew they had the whole flight for that conversation, if she was willing.

                 William spent the afternoon up in is room replaying the conversation over and over in his head.  Amy had tried calling him, but he wasn’t ready to talk just yet.  After her fifth attempt to call him the texts started coming through.  He finally gave in and texted that everything was fine, but he would talk to her tomorrow. His parents had tried to bring him out with food, but he wasn’t hungry.  He was still trying to digest the fact that he had met his real, biological parents today.  There hadn’t been a lot of time to really experience them, but from the little he had he had, he had glimpsed a few of his own traits.  He knew that they wanted to learn more about what he alone seemed capable of and they didn’t seem to fear it.  

                 It had been a long day and Scully had driven Mulder back to her apartment so he could get his car.  The ride from the airport had been silent, each lost in their own thoughts.  When she turned off the ignition Mulder turned to Scully and smiled.  Scully looked over and with new tears in her eyes said,

                 “We saw our son today, Mulder.”  Mulder nodded, his jaw working, but no words coming out. He hesitated for another moment.

               “Yeah.  I’m just sorry it had to end so soon.”  They both opened their doors and slid out.  Mulder grabbed his bag from the backseat and slammed the door shut.  He dug into his pants pockets until he found his own car keys.  Scully stood with her bag over her shoulder watching him fumble around.

                 “Are you okay to drive?”

               “I’ll be fine.  I just want to get home.”  Mulder said as he finally pulled out his keys and held them up in a victory fist.   Scully laughed not because it was particularly funny, but because she was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Mulder chuckled watching her bend over laughing.

               “Okay.  Time for you to get to bed, G-Woman.”  He walked up to her and put his hands on her shoulder and then turned her towards her building and gave her a little push to get her going.

               “I’ll meet you in the office tomorrow, Scully.” His only answer was a nod and some sort of a throaty, “uh-huh.”

 Chapter 9

 Monday, September 13, 2016

               The school bell rang and William, who had been lost in his own thoughts all day, trudged home the same way he always went.  Amy had to stay after school so he was on his own. The road leading up to his house was characteristically quiet and free of any cars.  He didn���t see nor did he hear the man fall in step beside him until he smelled the cigarette smoke.

               “William.”  It wasn’t a question; this man knew him.

               “Yeah?”  He stopped and looked at the man.  He had more wrinkles than he had ever seen and his smile wasn’t friendly.

               “I’m your grandfather.”

               “Excuse me?”

               “Fox didn’t tell you?”  He put his cigarette up to the hole in his throat and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he did.  Will’s stomach turned.  He would never need to be told not to smoke ever again.

               “We didn’t exactly chat about family members.”

               “Ah, I see.  What exactly was on the list of discussion topics?”  Will’s eyes drew together, pensively and glared at the man.

               “Look I don’t know who you are and how you know my parents or me, but I’m walking away.”  The cigarette smoking man put a hand on his arm, his touch was much stronger than his brittle frame would lead one to believe.

               “I take it that you three didn’t get too far in your conversation then?  They haven’t told you the truth.” He put the cigarette back into the hole in his throat and again drew the smoke into his lungs.  “They haven’t told you what you are, how important you are…to mankind.” William stood, rooted to the ground and looked back at this man who seemed to know more than he was willing to share.

               “The truth?  What the hell does that even mean?”

               “Ahh, well had you grown up with Fox Mulder you would know what that meant.”  His thin lips curved up into a smile.  “You’re a smart boy, a chip off the old Mulder block.  You must have some inkling as to what you’ve written.  You now need to make it.  I can only protect you and the Van de Kamps for so long.”  He turned and walked slowly away.  William watched him leave and ran the rest of the way home. William’s mind was racing.  He had to get home, he needed to grab his remaining notebooks and get to the airport.  He had to get to Mulder and Dana, he knew that they were the only two who could help him.  He ran up the gravel driveway and noticed that both cars were missing and immediately remembered his mom telling him that morning that she was volunteering down at the church today and wouldn’t be home until nearly dinner time.  

               “Crap.”  He muttered and then he thought of a plan.  After he grabbed his notebooks and a few changes of clothes he walked next door to his neighbor’s house.  He was halfway up the porch steps when the door opened and an older woman wearing an apron walked out.

               “William, what a nice surprise.  How’s school?”  The older woman had always had a soft spot for William.  She had heard the rumors, it was a small town, but she knew he was a sweet boy.

               “Oh, it’s fine Mrs. McAllister, but here’s the thing, I need a lift to the airport, I have an assignment that I sort of forgot about and well my mom is volunteering at the church today…”  He trailed off praying that she would believe his pathetic excuse of a lie and drive him.

               “The airport?  Well, I don’t know, that’s awful far.  Do you have your learners permit yet?”  William perked up and grabbed for his wallet in his back pocket.

               “I sure do, ma’am.”

               “Well if you drive there, then yes, I will drive us back home.”  William panicked at that, he wasn’t going to need a ride home.

               “Oh, no.  I will have my mom pick me up, I’ll be awhile and I couldn’t possibly impose upon you.”  He was hoping that his good manners would get him what he needed.  He was rewarded by her soft smile.

               “Well then let me just get my keys and pocket book and we’ll be on our way.”  William gave her his thousand-watt smile and jogged over to her waiting car.  

               A little less than an hour later and William was navigating the airport’s departure lanes.  He found a spot and popped out thanking his neighbor profusely. Now all he had to do was make a phone call and he should be all set.  He found a quiet spot near an empty luggage carousel and pulled out his cell phone.

                 Mulder had come home early after having been out on a case first thing in the morning.  He was sitting in his office doing some research when his phone rang.

               “Mulder.”

               “I need to know what the hell is going on.” William practically growled into the phone.

               “You’ll have to fill me in first.”  Mulder was on alert; he didn’t like the anger he heard in his son’s voice.

               “Your father just paid me a little visit.”

               “My father?” The realization suddenly hit him. “William, what did he look like?”

               “Old.  Like ancient and he smoked through his throat.  It was disgusting.”

               “William.  Where are you?”  Mulder stood from his desk.  

               “I’m at the airport.  He also told me that you haven’t told me the truth, about what I am. He knows what I’ve written…am I in danger?”

“No.  You made the right decision to get to the airport.”    Mulder picked up his house phone, his heart felt like it might thump out of his chest and started to dial Scully’s cell phone number.

               “Will, I want you to listen very carefully.  You need to stay where you are.  I’m going to call the airlines and get you on the next flight to DC. We’ll be at the airport to pick you up.  And William?”

               “Yeah?”

               “That man might biologically be my father, but trust me when I say this, I’d kill him without a second thought if he were to try and harm you.”  Suddenly he heard Scully’s answer on the house phone that was still in his hand.

                               “Scully.”  Mulder pressed his house phone up to his ear.  “Will hold on a minute.”

               “Mulder?  What’s going on?  Why are you talking to William?”  She put down the glass that she was washing at her sink.

               “Cancer Man, Scully.  He just stopped William on his way home from school.  

               “oh Mulder, don’t tell me…”  Scully’s heart was suddenly in her throat and her stomach was doing somersaults.

               “No.  he’s fine. He’s at the airport.  I’m going to get him a ticket out here and we’ll meet him at the airport.  I’ll pick you up on the way to the airport.”  

 All she could think about was how going to see William had put him in danger. She kept mentally kicking herself for being naïve to think that they were finally safe to see him, that Cancer Man wasn’t watching them anymore.  Of course, he would always be watching them she yelled at herself.

                 Will found a row of plastic chairs near the quiet luggage carousel and flopped down with his bag nestled between his feet. He stared down at his phone willing it to ring with where he needed to go to pick up his ticket.  As if on cue his cell phone trilled,

               “Hey.”

               “I got you a flight on US Airways.  It leaves in ninety minutes.  You’ll have to go to the ticket counter and show your ID so they can get you your boarding pass.”  

               “Okay.  So, you’ll be waiting for me on the other side?”  He needed to hear it again, to know that they would be there to get him and keep him safe.

               “We’ll use our badges to be right outside the gate. I promise, we’ll be the first thing that you see when you get off the plane.”  Mulder was hoping that by doing this William would indeed feel safer and know that he could trust them.

               “And you’re sure that I’m not in danger.”

               “Will, I don’t want to lie to you, but here’s the thing, if that man has always known where you’ve been then I have to believe that he has kept you safe for a reason.  Once you get here, we’ll be able to protect you.

 Chapter 10

 Later That Same Day

                 John had remembered on his way home that he needed to call for a propane tank refill.  The

fall had been colder than usual and the propane tank was getting low.  He was then very surprised to see the propane refill truck parked outside his home.     He was the one to always call the propane people, it was just one of those domestic duties that he had always done.  John parked his car and got out to go say, hello. John noticed that the company must have bought a new truck, this was pristine white and the company’s logo was bright without any smudges or chips.   He ambled around to the side of the house where the tank was stored and noticed that it wasn’t the usual employee.

               “Hi there.”  The employee turned around, startled and said,

               “Hi.”

               “Did my wife call you?”  John noticed the name tag that was stitched on the man’s shirt read, Carl.  

               “Don’t know, sir, I just got a call to come out here.”

               “Well good timing, I was just going to place my order.”  John smiled and turned to leave when Louise pulled up.  John walked over to greet her and said,

               “Hey, I thought I always called the propane guys?”

               “What do you mean?”

               “Well, I didn’t call them, so I just assumed that you must have since here he is.”  John turned and motioned with his arm over to the truck sitting in the middle of his yard.

               “I never called them.”  Louise said as she started up the porch steps.  “Maybe they put us on automatic refill or something.”

               “That makes sense.  What are we having for dinner?”  Louise looked over her shoulder and smiled, John was always thinking of his next meal.

                 Carl finished filling the tank, capped it and brought his hose back up to the truck.  He quickly finished up and jumped into the cab of the truck.  He grabbed for his cellphone on the passenger seat and dialed the number he had been given.

               “Is it done?”  The scratchy voice on the other end asked.

               “Yes.”  Carl affirmed and pushed the red button on his phone, ending the call.

                 John walked over to the heater dial and cranked it up to sixty-eight degrees to take the chill off the house.  

  Chapter 11

 Dulles International Airport

Later That Same Day

 Mulder and Scully sat anxiously at the gate, awaiting William’s flight.  Scully was grateful to have her FBI badge back knowing all the special privileges that it allowed.

               “There.  Finally.” Mulder muttered when he saw the airplane taxi slowly up to the gate.  He stood, unable to sit any longer.  As soon as the passengers began their exit, Scully stood and waited next to Mulder. It wasn’t long before they spotted him, Will was distracted by removing his earbuds, but then looked up and when his eyes locked on theirs he had an overwhelming sense that he was exactly where he belonged.

               “Here, let me take that.”  Mulder reached out his hand and took William’s beat up bag from him and they began quickly walking down the terminal to the exit.

               “How was your flight?”  Scully asked, looking over at William who looked a bit ashen.

               “Not bad for my first flight.”  Mulder and Scully stopped and turned.  William had kept walking, oblivious of their sudden stop. When he realized that they were no longer next to him, he stopped and turned around.

               “Will, that was your first flight?  Why didn’t you tell us?  I would have flown out to get you.”  Scully said, her voice soft and emotional.

               “Nah.  I was fine. I understand how it all works and everything, I just wasn’t expecting as much turbulence as we had.  I’m fine.  Can we go?”  He turned and started walking off leaving Mulder and Scully to catch up.

 Will’s cellphone was buzzing in his pants pocket.  He reached around and pulled it out to see Amy’s smiling face staring back at him. He clicked the talk button and said,

               “Hey Ames, what’s up?”

               “William, where are you?  I’ve tried calling you for the past two hours.”

               “Yeah.  Well I had to take a little trip.”  Scully spun around in the front passenger seat and mouthed ‘don’t say where you are.’ William nodded.

               “A little trip, what the hell Will, it’s Monday night.  Your parents have been calling me trying to figure out where you are.  What should I tell them?”

               “Nothing.  I’ll call them soon.  Look, I’ve, I’ve got to go now.  I promise I’ll call you tomorrow.”  There was a long pause on the other end.  

               “Ok?”

               “Ok.  Will. You aren’t in some kind of trouble, are you?”

               “Nah.  I’m fine. Bye.”  He hung up before she could respond.

               “Who was that?”  Mulder asked from the driver’s seat.

               “My best friend, Amy.  My parents have been calling her.”

               “Do you want to call them so they aren’t panicking?” Scully asked knowing too well what it felt like to not know where your child was.  William’s shoulders shrugged and his thumb began wandering on the screen of his phone.  He pressed the phone up to his face and waited.  The house phone just rang and rang.  Weird.  If they were on it, it would be busy and if they were that worried about him, then why didn’t they pick up immediately?  

               A little while later they arrived at Mulder’s house.  When they walked into the small space William wondered how many bedrooms were up the stairs.

               “Ok.  Can we finally talk now?”

               “Sure.  Let’s sit though.  I think this is going to take a while.  Do you want something to drink?”

               “No, thanks.”

               “Scully?”

               “Do you have any more of those beers left?” Mulder smiled.  

               “Coming up.”  Scully and Will headed for Mulder’s worn couch and sat down just as Mulder came around with two beers.

               “Ok.  The truth.” Will nodded and braced himself for what he hoped would be answers.   Mulder took a deep breath and decided to just lay it all out.  

               “Well, like we told you, we worked on paranormal cases at the FBI.  We spent years uncovering government conspiracies to cover up the existence of extra-terrestrials.  We’ve been visited by beings from another planet, another universe and they had planned to colonize Earth.  A date had been set, December 20, 2012 which has obviously passed now. I had found out this information right after you were born” Mulder stood and began pacing.  He looked over at Will who was perched on the edge of the couch, looking up at him.  He continued,

“People like my father, the father I was raised by, spent most of his career at the State Department trying to dismantle this, trying to find some way to block their attempts.  Vaccines have been attempted to assist with blocking their attempts to enslave the human race, or kill us.  There are people, like Dana and possibly you who possess alien DNA.”

               “And you think that what I wrote is the real vaccine?”  Scully looked at Will and said,

               “Possibly.  Now that you’re here you can help me with what you’ve written so I can understand it. Once I know the elements of the compound then I can try to synthesize it in a lab and see what it is we’re working with. Mulder walked back over and sat on the couch next to Scully and reached for his beer.  Will watched Mulder and then turned his gaze to Scully and asked,

               “Are we safe now?  I mean, it’s been nearly four years now since that date has passed.  Is there still a threat?”

               “We don’t know.”  Scully said, her eyes dropping down.  She hated not having all the answers, not able to assure her son that he was safe.

“So, how did you get alien DNA?”  Mulder smiled, his son wasn’t even questioning this line of thinking, he just believed them.

               “After I first started working with Mulder at the FBI, I was abducted and missing for three months.”  Mulder closed his eyes, brought the beer bottle to his lips and tipped it.  He spent years trying to forget this and now he was going to have to hear it all again.

“When I was returned I had a chip implanted in the back of my neck.  It was removed by a doctor and several months later I was diagnosed with a terminal brain cancer.  Mulder, found a cure.”  Scully paused and laid her hand on Mulder’s hand that he had been tapping his knee restlessly with.    “He brought another type of computer chip and my oncologist put it where the other one had been and well…I’ve been cancer free since.  Years later we were in Dallas on a case when I got stung by a bee that had an alien virus in it.  Mulder got the antidote and was able to inject me with it that once again saved my life.  I believe that is how I now have this alien DNA.”

               “And you think that I have this too?”

               “I won’t know until I can take a blood sample. We’ll go to the hospital where I work tomorrow and I’ll take the sample and analyze it there.  Considering your…well your gift, Will, I would all but assume that you have it”

               “What then?”

               “Then you’ll be that much safer.”  Mulder said softly squeezing Scully’s hand.  “I’m going to make sure that you are.”  Mulder stood and started pacing.   “I’ve already started making some calls.  I want you to stay here until I can determine what if anything is going on.”  Will’s phone started to vibrate and he saw Amy’s face once again.  He answered and heard sirens in the distance.  Will’s heart immediately began pumping more blood into his veins, making his whole body thrum.

               “Amy, what’s going on?”  All he could hear was crying.

               “Amy, Amy!!”  Mulder and Scully stopped talking and looked over at Will who had stood and was now gripping his cell phone so tightly that his knuckles had gone white.

               “What are those sirens for, what’s going on?” William was frantic, why wasn’t she speaking?

               “Will…my dad was driving home tonight and he saw it happen.  Your house…it, it exploded.”  Will was no longer capable of speech and he suddenly felt the hardwood floor as it met his knees and shins, his phone hit the floor and skidded a few feet from him. He felt the gentle hands and arms as she held him, softly caressed his back and his arms.  His sobs were even silent to him, his body heaved and shook, but he heard none of the cries that he knew he must be expelling.  His cheeks felt the warm tears race down, each trying to outrun the others.  Mulder walked over to the discarded phone, picking it up and walking a few feet away.

               “What’s happened?”

               “Who is this?”  

               “This is Mulder.  Tell me what you just told him.”

               “His house, his parents…the house exploded tonight.” Amy started to sob again and Mulder could hear the sirens wailing in the background.  

               “What do you mean, the house exploded?”  He knew he wasn’t going to get much out of Will’s friend, but he needed any information he could get.  Amy tried to control her crying and after wiping the tears from her eyes, she closed her eyes and slowly counted to ten.  She finally felt like she could speak and said,

               “My dad said it was probably a propane leak.”  A propane leak my ass thought Mulder.  He knew it had to be the Consortium trying to get to Will and his notebooks.  He thanked Amy and hung up.  Mulder walked over to where Scully was trying to comfort Will who looked like he was in shock.  Mulder knelt down on the cold hardwood floor and touched Will’s arm.

Will whispered, “It’s...it’s all my fault.”  Mulder and Scully both shook their heads and Scully spoke first,

“No.  No, Will, you can’t think that.  None of this is your fault.”  Mulder knew guilt better than Scully, he and guilt had been friends for most of his life and understood his son’s need to punish himself for this situation.

“I know that’s how you feel, but trust me when I say this, there was nothing that you could have done that would have prevented this.”  …and nothing else matters that you’re alive.  Mulder thought to himself.

 Chapter 12

 Tuesday, September 14, 2016

                 The morning hadn’t yet dawned when Scully found herself awake.  She stretched and rolled out of Mulder’s bed.  She wandered past the couch where Mulder was asleep, his arm slung over his eyes. She made her way into the kitchen and began making coffee when she heard a shuffle behind her.  She turned and found Will standing in the middle of the room, running a hand through his hair and looking around.

                 “Will?  What are you doing awake, it’s so early?”  Scully approached him and noticed his eyes rimmed in red no doubt from his crying the night before.

               “I umm…woke up and just…”  He trailed off as he looked away.  Scully took a few steps closer and put her hand on his forearm and when he didn’t flinch she smoothed her hand up and down his arm.  He looked down at her and smiled.

               “Do you want something to eat?  I could make us some breakfast.”   Will shrugged his shoulders and when Scully realized that this was going to be his only response she decided to take it as a ‘yes’ and turned around and walked back to the kitchen.  She began preparing scrambled eggs and put some bread in the toaster when she heard Will’s voice break the companionable silence.

               “I feel so lost.”  Scully stopped her breakfast preparation and spun around.  She took in Will’s hunched shoulders and bowed head and she made her way towards Will.  She lifted his chin with her fingers so they were eye to eye and she said,

               “I know how you feel.  I felt just like that after my mom died.  Mulder and I will help you through this.  Unfortunately, both of us know what it feels like to lose those you love.”  She hoped that her words would help, that by her and Mulder being with him would somehow make the loss less painful for him, but she knew that John and Louise were all he’d ever known.  Will nodded his head and then she watched as his face began to crumple again and then he asked,

               “Where am I going to live?”  Scully smiled and said,

               “You can stay right here.  You’ll be safe here.  Mulder and I will protect you, ok?”  Will looked away and mumbled something that she couldn’t hear.

               “I’m sorry, what was that?”

               “Promise?”  The question tore at her heart.  He looked at her with such innocence and the pleading in his eyes was almost too much for her to bear, but with tears in her eyes she nodded and although nearly a sob escaped her she replied,

               “Yes.  I promise.”

   Chapter 13

 Our Lady of Sorrows Hospital

Washington, DC

                  Scully waited for William’s results alone in the lab. Will and Mulder had wandered off in search of a soda machine after having fidgeted and paced for several minutes. She knew that Mulder was trying his best to occupy both his and Wills time so they could focus on something other than the wait.  Scully’s arms crossed back over her chest and she looked up at the clock that ticked loudly against all the steel and linoleum.  The tick tock her ever present reminder that she now only had a precious few minutes before she would know for sure whether or not William shared her alien DNA.  She could hear the sounds of male voices coming up the hallway and when one of the double doors clicked open she saw both William and Mulder with sodas in their hands.

                               “I think we’re ready.”  Scully walked over to where the blood was finishing up in the machine and it beeped letting her know that it was done.  She carefully lifted the machine’s lid and pulled out the beaker which held William’s blood.  She turned to pour it on the rubber board and watched as it began to form within it.  She went over to one of the refrigerator cabinets and pulled out her sample to match it up.  She studied them both and looked up.

               “It’s a match.”  Mulder ran his hand over his mouth and then combed it through his hair until he reached the back of his neck and squeezed, trying to release the tension that was suddenly knotted there.  Will softly asked,

               “What now?  What do I do?”  He looked between the two adults, hoping that they would somehow have all the answers. He could feel their fear and their anxiety as if it were his own.

               “We’re going to keep you safe.” Scully said and looked over at Mulder whose eyes were closed and his head nodding.

               “You two head back to my place and I’m going to visit Skinner.”  Mulder turned on his heel and walked out of the lab leaving Scully and William behind. Scully sighed in her resigned tone that she saved for when Mulder ditched her.

               “Hungry?”  Scully asked as she smiled over at William who was thoughtfully staring at the double doors that Mulder had just left through.

               “Does he always do that?”

               “Often.”

 Chapter 14

 FBI Headquarters

Washington, DC

                  Mulder entered the FBI Headquarters and ran down the corridor to Assistant Director Walter Skinner’s office.  Skinner’s secretary, Kimberly looked up and was startled by Mulder’s sudden appearance.

               “Is he in?”

               “Yes, but…”  She was unable to finish as Mulder walked by her and threw open the door. Skinner looked over at Mulder and said,

               “Look, I’ll have to call you back.”  He hung up the phone and stood.  

               “What is it, Mulder?”  Skinner voice was full of concern when he saw the look on Mulder’s face.

               “It’s William, Sir.  Scully and I went to see him and a few days later Cancerman showed up, he told him that he needed to know the Truth about who he is.  William flew out here and last night his adoptive parents were murdered.  He…” Mulder faltered trying to catch his breath.  “He’s got the same alien DNA that Scully has.”

               “Jesus.”  Skinner put his hands on his desk, bracing himself against all the information that was just thrown at him.

               “Where is he now?”

               “Scully has him; they are heading to my house.”

               “What do you need from me?”  Mulder smiled, he couldn’t help himself after all these years of fighting and going around his boss here he was helping him, sticking his neck out for him, for Scully and now for their son.  He knew that Skinner had helped them as much as he could in the past, but he’d always been hamstrung by Bureau bureaucracy.   He prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that he could get around the bureaucracy and get some real answers for them.

“I need to know if Cancerman and the Syndicate are going to come after him.  Or…if he’s in danger of being abducted.”

               “Go home.  I’ll call you with some answers.”  Mulder nodded, his eyes giving him a silent ‘thank you’ before turning to leave.

 Chapter 15

 Mulder’s House

6:15pm

                 The sun was a giant orange ball, sinking beneath the horizon when Mulder walked up the porch steps, his arms were full of the groceries that he had bought on his way home.  He could hear peals of laughter emitting from the open windows.  He used his foot to bang against the screen door and his face lit up when he saw Scully approach with the biggest smile he had seen in a very long time.

               “Here, let me help you.”  She swung open the door and grabbed a bag from him as he crossed the threshold.

               “What’s so funny?”   Mulder asked as he walked into the kitchen.

               “I was just hearing about the cockroach infestation and the crap factory that exploded on you.”  

               “Ah.  Memories. I think it took a week for me to get the smell off.”

               “I heard all about Bambi too.”  

               “Okay, well you’ve got to hear my version of that case, not just hers.”  He looked pointedly at Scully and playfully scowled. Scully was grateful that she had had the afternoon alone with William.  The sadness and uncertainty over everything was still there, but he was addicted to hearing about their time on the X-Files and kept asking her for more stories.  She found that she really did enjoy recounting some of their more bizarre cases to her son.  She watched William stand up and walk out of the room and turned her attention to Mulder who stood just a breath away from her.  

               “So, what did Skinner say?”  Scully asked after William had turned on the TV.

               “He’s going to find out what he can.  He said he’d call when he knew something.”

               “Do you think we’re safe here?”  Scully was busying herself with putting away some of the cans in Mulder’s cupboards trying to not let him see her fear.  Mulder came up behind her, put his hands on her waist and turned her into him.

               “He’s safe as long as he’s with us and we don’t let our guard down.”  Scully nodded and turned back to the cupboard.  

               William sat alone on the couch with the TV on quietly, not actually watching it.  He still couldn’t believe that they were gone, murdered because of him.  He remembered the last words he had spoken to them and how wholly inadequate they had been.  

                  After dinner had been cleaned up and they were sitting on the couch, Will asked,

               “So, this Cancerman guy, he said something about me being important to mankind.  How am I important to mankind, but you aren’t?”  he waved his hand to Scully.  “I mean we both have alien DNA.”

 The conversation was interrupted by a sharp knock on the front door.  Mulder stood, grabbed his gun on the side table and walked over, looking through the peep hole before relaxing.  He unlocked the door and swung it open revealing Assistant Director Walter Skinner.  His broad shoulders nearly took up the whole doorway.  

               “Mulder.”  Skinner nodded and continued “may I come in?  I have some important information that I would like to discuss with all of you.” Mulder waved him in, closing and locking the door behind him.

               “Agent Scully.”  Skinner walked in to where she was sitting on the couch and looked over at the young man sitting next to her.  

               “William.”  Skinner walked up and reached his hand across the coffee table towards Will who awkwardly half stood to close the distance between them and gave his hand a firm shake.

               “So, as I was telling Mulder, I have some information to share with you three.”  Mulder had walked back in and took his place next to Scully and gently covered her hand with his which didn’t go unnoticed by Skinner.  His eyes moved up from their hands to their faces which both wore the same expression of hopefulness and worry.  He glanced over at William who was staring at him with the same scrutiny that Mulder used to give him.  ‘Apple doesn’t fall too far from that tree’ Skinner thought to himself.  He looked behind him and found an armchair so he sat, hoping that by sitting he could get through this easier.

               “Sir?”  Mulder asked after Skinner sat down.

               “The people who replaced the original Syndicate, those who were killed in the airplane hangar by the alien rebels, are less organized which hopefully means that we can get around them.  It turns out that not only is Agent Scully a carrier of the alien DNA, but” turning to look Mulder in the eyes “your little trip to Tunguska, Russia all those years ago and your infection with the black oil has given your blood some important antibodies to the alien virus.”

               “Sir, that’s not possible.  I’ve checked Mulder’s blood countless times since then and I’ve never detected any abnormalities.”  

               “You didn’t know what to look for, you wouldn’t have back then.  It’s only now that we have more technology that it was even found.  The reason I’m telling you this is that is why William” Skinner turned his eyes onto Will who was intently staring at his shoes “is so important, he’s the first fully immune human to have ever been born.”  Will’s eyes raised and he stared, open mouthed at Skinner.  

               “Immune to what?”  

               “To the alien’s bioterror weapon, the black oil that they will infect all of Earth’s population with.”

               “I’m immune to that?”

               “Yes.  Thanks to your parents here.”

               “And what I’ve written, is the vaccine that will keep everyone else safe too?”  Skinner looked over at Mulder and Scully then, unaware of this piece of information.

               “It seems that William, well he’s been writing in the same symbols that were found on the alien craft off the Ivory Coast since he was a toddler and it turns out that it’s some type of vaccine.  He and Scully have to go over it, but we think he’s written it.”

               “That’s…I don’t know what to say.”  Skinner looked down at his hands for a moment and back up, directly at William and said,

               “You’re going to save mankind.” He paused and slid his gaze over to Scully and said,

“Agent Scully, you will need to create this vaccine so we can inoculate everyone.”

               “Sir, everyone?” Scully couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.  The time and coordination that this would take was insurmountable.  

               “If we hope to survive it has to be everyone.”  

               “How will we administer it?  People aren’t too excited to get a needle in their arms nowadays by way of the government.”  Mulder asked as he raked a hand through his hair.  Skinner stood up from the arm chair, shoved his hands deep in his pockets and said,

               “We’ll have to come up with some superbug, a new virus that’s so scary everyone will be lining up to get it.  We’ll bring back the Bubonic Plague if we have to.”

               “Wait.  How could you possibly do that?  Wasn’t it like eradicated over a hundred years ago?”  Will asked.  Skinner looked over at Will, amusement shone in his eyes and he said,

               “The government has warehouses that keep superbugs, viruses like this in them.  We can start it off somewhere in Africa and have it spread to Asia, then Europe and finally to the Americas.”

               “You can do that?”  Will asked as he looked over at Skinner.

               “Of course we can.  We’ve done it before.”  Skinner looked at his two agents and nodded.

               “I will see you tomorrow morning, Agent Scully. Good to see you again, William.” Skinner stood and turned to leave and Mulder followed on his heels.

               “Sir.  Is he safe here?”

               “There are going to be people” he stopped and looked off “both human and alien that will not want this to succeed.  You and Agent Scully are the only ones qualified to keep him safe from that type of enemy.” Mulder chewed on his bottom lip and nodded his head.  

               “Oh and Mulder, you’ll need to move.  He needs to be closer to the school that we’ve enrolled him in.  Or, perhaps Agent Scully will move?”  Skinner never was sure of his two best agents’ personal involvement.  While they always seemed very close, they often weren’t together in the sense that he would have thought.

               “What school is that?”  Mulder felt uncomfortable that all of this was happening without his knowledge or input.  He’d spent the past fifteen years without input on his son’s life and he really hated that it was still happening.

               “One of the safest private schools in the country. It’s like Fort Knox.  He’ll be safe there.”

               “Ok.  This isn’t going to be easy.”  Mulder said as he looked over Skinner’s shoulder at some unknown point on the wall.

               “I know.  It’s what’s best though.  It’s your turn to be his parents.”  Skinner turned and unlocked the front door and left out into the dark night from which he had come.

                 Mulder walked back into the living room to find Will sitting on the chair that Skinner had vacated minutes before with his head in his hands and Scully on the couch looking worried.  Mulder gently sat down next to Scully, the sagging cushion alerting her to his presence.  She looked over at him and mouthed, ‘he’s scared.’  Yeah, no shit.  Mulder thought to himself.

               “So, I’ve written a vaccine that will save mankind?”

               “…yeah.”  Scully sighed and stood.  “I know, it’s a lot to take in, to believe…”

               “It’s what my dad had tried to develop when he worked for the State Department.  He didn’t want to work with the aliens to save only a few, he wanted to develop a cure that would save everyone.  And William, you’ve done it.”  He punctuated that last sentence to ensure that William understood.

               “The cure…”  Will slumped back into the chair, his eyes closing.

 Chapter 16

               Raised voices roused Will from a deep sleep. Will didn’t understand who the voices could belong to, his parents rarely if ever fought, let alone raised their voices to one another.  He rolled over and tried to go back to sleep when he heard a “damnit Scully!” and then a “go to hell, Mulder” and then the front door open and slam shut.  Oh, right.  He was in Virginia and his parents were dead, well his adoptive parents who never fought were dead and now he was living with his birth parents and apparently, they argued.  Will stretched and decided to get up and go downstairs to see what that had been about. He could guess, last night’s meeting with Assistant Director Skinner had put them all on edge.  He had gone upstairs right after Skinner had left, but he had heard Dana and Mulder arguing downstairs.  He had picked up on ‘new school’ and ‘needing to move’ and at that point he had put his earbuds in and let the world just melt away.  Will pulled on his battered jeans and his worn Tenement band t-shirt.  He was going to need some more clothes soon or he was going to have to do laundry every other day with the little he brought.

                 Mulder heard the creak of the stairs and looked up to see Will slowly descending.  He was no doubt awoken by his and Scully’s fight.  He felt bad that his son had heard them fighting, but he just couldn’t help the argument that had started right off from where they had left it last night after they each had agreed to sleep on it and start fresh the next morning. Apparently, a horrible night sleep doesn’t make things look brighter the next day.

               “Hey Will.  Did you get a good night sleep?”  Will shrugged his shoulders in response and flopped down in the chair across from Mulder.

               “So, what was all that about?”

               “A difference of opinion.”

               “Sounded like it.”

               “Sorry.  Can I get you some breakfast?  I can make toast.”  Mulder winked at him, hoping to get a smile.  Will rolled his eyes and said,

               “Yeah that sounds fine.”  He watched as Mulder stood up and went about grabbing some bread and placing it in the toaster.

               “Mulder?”  Mulder spun around, surprised Will was actually making conversation.

               “Yeah?”

               “I feel like I have this gaping wound in my chest, where everything I used to know belonged, but now I feel this weird sense of completeness that I never felt before.  Does that make any sense?”  Mulder stuffed his hands in his jean pockets and contemplated his son’s words.  He started to nod and said,

               “Yeah, Will I do think that makes a lot of sense actually.  We often have divergent feelings consuming us and with everything that you’ve been through I think it’s perfectly normal to be feeling that way.”  The toaster popped and startled both.  Mulder walked over and grabbed the toast out of the toaster as Will walked up and found the jar of peanut butter in the cupboard.  They each took a seat at the table in the kitchen. Mulder watched Will out of the corner of his eye as he ate his toast and Mulder sipped on his now cool cup of coffee. Will seemed far away, lost in memories of his past life that was still very raw.  

               “Do you love her?”  Will was still looking off, but his eyes found Mulder when he didn’t immediately respond.

               “Yeah, I’ve loved her for so long I don’t know how not to love her.  She’s…well, she’s my everything.”  Will seemed to ponder that for a moment.

               “Have you told her that?”

               “Not lately.”

               “Are you going to tell me what the fight was about this morning?” Mulder took a long sip and ran his hand through his hair.

               “Sure. The thing is, we need to move, to get closer to the private school that you’ve been enrolled in.  Dana’s upset that we didn’t get a say in where you’re going, where we need to live and is mad at me for going along with it.”

               “Where do we need to move?”

               “The suburbs…not exactly where I was expecting to end up after all these years. I don’t get it, for years she wanted this ‘normal’ life to get out of the car and stop driving and live like everyone else.  Now it’s here and she’s just pushing back.”  Mulder let out a long sigh.  “Sorry, Will I bet you never thought that we were this screwed up, huh?”  Will chuckled and Mulder mentally high fived himself for getting a real smile out of his son.

               “No, I guess not.  I never really contemplated your love life though.”  Will shot Mulder a sardonic smile and stood up, taking his plate to the sink where he deposited it.  Mulder stood up, chuckling at his son’s dry humor and contemplated the day.  He knew Scully was pissed at him, but he was hoping that she’d still drop by after her shift and they could talk like the adults that they were and get this whole thing straightened out.

  Chapter 17

 Scully’s Apartment

                 Scully was in the shower, scrubbing her skin with her luffa more roughly than it required.  She was still angry with Mulder over their fight last night and again this morning. Why on Earth did he not understand her worry over allowing these men to control them?  To dictate where their son was going to go to school which then dictated where they would live.  Where would it end?  Plus, did she really want to play house with Mulder?  If it didn’t work out, she couldn’t just pack up her things and move out. They had William now to consider and Mulder didn’t seem the least worried which naturally made her furious. Why was she always the one who had to worry and think of the big picture when he only just looked at his own narrow view?  She turned off the water and climbed out of the shower after having scrubbed a layer of skin off of her herself.  She quickly got dressed and decided that after her shift at the hospital, she would call Mulder to see if she could come by so they could have a more civilized conversation over the fate of their lives.

 Chapter 18

                 “Are you sure this is such a good idea?”  Will was nervous and didn’t think breaking in to Dana’s apartment was such a good idea.  Well, they weren’t actually breaking in, Mulder had a key and seemed to think it was perfectly fine to come in, make dinner and ‘surprise’ Dana.  Will wasn’t so sure and had said so many times and for his efforts he had only kept getting what he felt was Mulder’s patent reassurance. Will now knew what “are you up for an adventure” from Mulder would entail.  Will was standing in the kitchen, really just getting in the way. He didn’t know how to cook and wasn’t comfortable wandering around Dana’s apartment without her there.  He felt as if he were invading her privacy. When Mulder bumped into him for the third time, he took Will by the shoulders, bent down so they were eye-to-eye and said,

               “Please.  Go. Walk around, sit on the couch and watch TV, plug these into your ears, he picked up one of Will’s white earbuds and waved it into his face.  Anything than just standing here.”

               “Fine.”  Will turned and shuffled off.  Mulder was glad that he hadn’t added a “sure” and “whatever” to his ‘fine.’  He was making his best meal, spaghetti and meatballs and he wanted it to be just right so the evening would at least start off on a good note and he hoped to keep that going so they could work through their issues.  Will being around would hopefully keep tempers at bay as well.  Mulder was hoping that by being in her home Scully would be more at ease as well.  His profiler skills were still intact.

 Chapter 19

 Our Lady of Sorrows

                 Scully opened her locker in the doctor’s locker room and removed her scrubs.   She was tired, not so much from her shift, it had been relatively quiet today, but from the lack of sleep from last night and her brain that wouldn’t shut off for even a moment.  She had spent her entire eight hours going over and over her argument with Mulder.  She had concluded that she desperately wanted that life that Mulder had been preaching last night and this morning, but she was just terrified that she couldn’t make it work.  All the years she wanted it, yearned for that life with Mulder and her son, and now that it had presented itself on a silver platter right in front of her, she was paralyzed.  What if she and Mulder were horrible parents and Will turned out to hate them and regretted ever finding them?  What if that little boy she left would always feel abandoned and would never love her? There it was, her guilt.  The guilt that she couldn’t ever leave behind. With a sigh, she finished buttoning her blouse and picked up her phone so she could call Mulder once she reached her car.

 Chapter 20

Scully’s Apartment

                 Mulder and Will sat next to each other on Scully’s couch while Will showed Mulder how to use his phone.  Mulder watched as Will showed him how to add photos to each contact so when his phone rang the person’s picture would appear.  Mulder was in awe of his son and his seemingly endless knowledge of his phone and all that it could do.  Logically he knew that all kids Will’s age understood this stuff, but he still felt a deep sense of pride in how smart his son was.  He was watching Will navigate iTunes and was trying not to be too offended at his “old man music choices” when Scully’s face appeared on the screen. Will handed over Mulder’s phone and waited.  He had no idea how this whole evening was supposed to go down.

 Chapter 21

                 The pink and orange sunset gave the illusion that there was a bright fire burning in the distance.  The sinking sun, giving off his last fiery blaze before retiring for the night.  Scully sat in traffic and enjoyed the view, all the while reviewing her bizarre conversation with Mulder that she had just had over the phone.  He had been insistent that she stop by her place before heading over to his house, he wanted to be sure she had a change of clothes.  He had said it in that soft, loving voice he used on her for years which typically ended with them in bed together.  If he thought that she was going to sleep with him, he had another thing coming.  She was too upset with him to do something like that.  Besides she wasn’t sure about the whole sex thing with your teenage son in the next room. Not that she was planning on having sex with Mulder tonight or in the near future.  They were just getting back in each other’s lives and falling back into bad habits wasn’t where she wanted to go.  She smiled at the ‘bad habit’ bit, that part had never been bad.  She shook herself and concentrated on getting to her apartment.

                 Scully unlocked her door, pushing it open and all at once the smell of food assaulted her senses and the glow of candlelight caused her to nearly trip over herself.

               “Surprise.”  Mulder softly said.  He stood there in his jeans and a blue and white striped buttoned-down dress shirt, untucked, his shoes off and his socked toes curling and uncurling into the soft carpet.  His heart was beating so loudly he could hear it in his ears.

               “Yeah, uh surprise.”   Will muttered from the couch.  He still couldn’t believe Mulder thought this was a great idea.  He called it ‘wooing’ which made Will want to ‘woo’ right on his shoes.  His adoptive parents were never romantic so he had been spared all this mushy stuff his whole life. He kept watching the video of a kid attempting to skateboard down a street in San Francisco while Mulder did his ‘wooing’ behind him.

                 Scully dropped her purse and Mulder was nervous by her wide eyes and slightly open mouth.

               “Too much?”  Mulder reached out and took her hand.  “I just wanted a chance to apologize for last night and this morning.  I wanted to show you how this could work.”  His soft hazel eyes pleaded with her to accept this and allow him to continue.  Scully had years of practice with this face and knew she wasn’t going to deny him.

               “No.  It’s not too much.” Mulder and Scully didn’t hear, but Will breathed a sigh of relief from the couch.  

               “Come on in.”  Mulder, feeling emboldened, laced his fingers through hers and led her into the kitchen where he had poured them both glasses of wine.  

               “I can’t believe you did this all for me.”

               “For us.”  Mulder brushed his fingers over her cheek and she turned to meet his eyes.  She saw what she kept denying to herself.  Mulder loved her, would always love her and would never give up on them.  Why did she keep running?  She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him to her.  Mulder’s tension melted when their bodies touched, the day drifted away and in that moment it was only the two of them.  Scully rested her cheek on Mulder’s shirt and allowed herself to take a deep breath and breathe in all of him.  Mulder always had such a wonderful smell, it was a mix between his aftershave and his own unique male smell.  Mulder bent his neck and kissed the top of her head.

               “Ready for dinner?”

               “Finally.”  Will stood up and walked over.  Scully smiled and let go of Mulder to walk over to where Will was pulling out his chair.

               “Hey, sorry about this morning.  Mulder told me that we woke you up.”

               “Whatever.  It’s fine.” Scully shot Mulder a look and he smiled. He wondered how she enjoyed such an answer to a question.  All the years he had to hear, ‘Sure.  Fine. Whatever.’ made him laugh to himself that their own son now gave it back to her.

  Chapter 22

 Three Weeks Later

Our Lady of Sorrows

                 Will loved the lab, he would never actually admit that to anyone, but his alone time with Dana and their data was becoming his favorite part of the week.  The whole surprise dinner in her apartment and ‘wooing’ had worked for about two weeks Will could figure because that was when Mulder had become solemn and quiet. Will did use it to his advantage though and guilted Mulder into buying the latest Xbox and a number of games, none of which his adoptive mother would have approved of and Mulder didn’t seem the least concerned by.  He guessed when the man had fought real monsters, shot real guns and faced real danger on a daily basis that a video game where you blasted the crap out of stuff was nothing to get your panties in a wad over.

               “Dana?”  Scully was peering through a microscope looking at how the vaccine was dividing when she looked up at the sound of Will calling her name.

               “That whole, we could be in danger for creating this vaccine, do you really think it’s true?  I mean, I don’t feel unsafe.  No one has tried to break in here, right?”

               “No.  You’re right no one has tried to break in, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that we’re safe.”  Scully took off her latex gloves and came over to where Will was sitting on the stool next to the lab counter.  She patted his leg and took the stool next to him.

               “I don’t want to frighten you.”  Scully noticed the eye roll and disapproving scowl her son shot towards her and she quickly changed tactics.  “I’ve learned that when you’re working on saving the world, you should always watch your back.”  That got a ghost of a smile.

               “I think we’re about done here.   Can you start cleaning up and I’ll drive you back to Mulder’s.”

               “Do you think you’ll ever come back?”  Will was busy wiping down the counters and wasn’t facing her, but her instincts, however rusty or new they were, knew that he was hurting.  This was exactly what she had been worried about. She didn’t want to drag her son through the ups and downs of their relationship.  Is this how he would have been raised, ping-ponged back and forth between the two of them, them together, blissful for a few years and then back to spending every other weekend together?  Her stomach rolled at the thought.

               “Mulder and I always find our way back.  I don’t want you to worry.”

  Chapter 23

 Will was feeling particularly lonely and homesick. He wanted nothing more to call and talk to Amy about everything that was going on.  He wanted to hear her voice, hear her make lame jokes.  He wasn’t sure how to call her and just talk.   How exactly do you call and talk to the person who told you that your house exploded and that your parents were dead? He shook his head and grabbed for his phone off the mattress where it rested.  He pressed her name and waited.

                 “Will?”

      ��        “Yeah.  Hi Ames.”

               “God.  Will, where have you been?”  She had been so worried about him ever since she had told him the devastating news that his parents had been killed in a propane leak resulting in their house exploding.

               “I can’t really tell you.  I just, God Ames, I just wanted to hear your voice.  I’ve missed you.”

               “I’ve missed you, Will.  Are you ever coming back?”

               “Back to what?  My parents are gone.  I’m with my birth parents now.”  

               “Oh wow.  I guess that was good timing then.”

               “Or really bad.”

               “What do you mean?”

               “Nothing.  I just…I wanted to say, hi.”  He could hear Amy’s parents in the background.

               “Sorry Will, but I have to go.  We’re heading out.  I’ll call you later, ok?”

               “Yeah.  Bye.” Will ended the call knowing that Amy wouldn’t be calling back.  

 Chapter 24

Will couldn’t take it anymore, he couldn’t stand to hear them arguing, fighting for the same reasons as they always did.  He had held his tongue for a good two weeks now and he was done.  He climbed off his bed, walked down the stairs to see the two of them in a good old fashioned stare down contest.  He walked right up to them and unleashed his pent up frustration over the two of them being unable to just see what was plainly obvious to him.

                 “You two are the worst communicators I have ever seen!  My God. You.”  He pointed at Mulder, “spend most of your time thinking of ways to woo her, to get her to come back and stay, but part of you is terrified that if she does come back, how long until she leaves again.  And you”, he turned towards Scully, “spend all of your time here thinking that this is where you are meant to be and why does it always feel like home and wondering if you did stay how long would it be until you got afraid and left.”  Will stood, staring at the two of them hoping that he had gotten through to them. Scully smiled tightly at Will and said,

               “I should leave.”  She turned on her heel and started walking briskly towards the door, grabbing her purse off the couch as she walked by.  Mulder gave his best stern father look at Will and walked past him, towards the open door that Scully had just walked through.  He heard her heels click down the steps and hit the gravel that gave way to his driveway.

               “Scully!  Wait! Can’t we talk about this?”  He caught her by her forearm and spun her around to face him, but she kept her head down unable to look at him.

               “I can’t.  Not now Mulder.  I just, I just need some time to think.”  Mulder took his hand away from her forearm and let it hang by his side, defeated that she wouldn’t stay.  She turned towards her car and opened her door and got in.

               “I’ll call you.  I promise.”  With that she slammed the car door, started up the engine and backed out of the driveway. Mulder stood and watched her red taillights until he could no longer see them on the horizon.  He walked back towards the steps and sat down, his head hung, in the palms of his hands and his elbows on his bent knees.  Will cautiously opened the screen door and peered out.  He felt just awful for what he’d said and how he’d said it.  He just couldn’t understand how two people so in love could constantly get in their own way and it was driving him nuts.  The creek of the floorboards under his feet alerted Mulder to his presence.  Mulder lifted his head and craned his neck up until he saw Will standing just behind him shuffling his feet and more than a little unsure of what to do next.

               “Have a seat.”  Mulder patted the stair next to him and Will slunk over and sat.  Will peered over at Mulder under his flop of hair and said,

               “I’m really sorry.  I didn’t mean to cause such a scene.”

               “It’s okay.  I guess we sort of had it coming, huh?”

               “No.  I didn’t mean to erupt like that.”  They both stayed silent for a while until Mulder looked over and asked,

               “So, I take it you think my ‘wooing’ could use some work, huh?”

               “Is she ever here in the morning?”  Will smirked over at him and Mulder let out a laugh.

               “Wow, below the belt kid.”  He pursed his lips like he was blowing out a candle and shook his head.  He knew Will was right, but damn how did the kid do it?

               “How did you get so insightful?”

               “It runs in the family.”  Will deadpanned and Mulder shook his head and chuckled.

               “Obviously.”

 Chapter 25

                 Scully called as promised.  She called three days, four hours and five minutes later, not that Mulder was counting.  Mulder took the call in his office for some privacy.  He noticed almost immediately that he seemed to be sweating through his clothes.  The call had been awkward at first and had centered around how Will was doing and was he feeding him real food and not just stuff out of a box.  How was he emotionally and did he seem upset by their fight.  Mulder assured her that yes, he did feed his son real food, and yes on occasion they did eat Kraft Macaroni and Cheese because they lived in America where powdered cheese was available and very tasty.  Yes, he seemed okay emotionally and yes he was upset about the fight, mainly because he caused a scene, but that they had talked it out and all seemed fine and dandy.  Once that topic was dealt with the silence seemed like a real thing, alive and all consuming.  Scully, curled up on her couch, alone with only the table side lamp lighting the room, decided to break it before they were each swallowed up by it.  

               “I want this, Mulder.  I want us again.  I just don’t think I could handle yet another break though.  I’m too tired.  The last two years…I don’t want to go back to that”

               “Me too.  I mean, I want us again too.”  

               “Communication, Mulder…it’s never been our strong suit. How can we fix that?”  Mulder pursed his lips and scrunched his eyebrows at that and then smiled.

               “I want you to know that I am committed to this, to us.”  Mulder waved his hand in the air to no one but himself.  “Now, I can’t promise that I won’t get inside my own head, but I need you to promise, to talk me out.  Okay?” She nodded and then realized that they were on the phone and he would need a verbal response.

               “I promise.”

               “Promise me something?”  Scully asked.

               “Anything.”  His chest tightened and he waited.

               “Promise that no matter what you won’t let me walk away.”  

   Chapter 26

 September 22, 2016

                   It had been about a month that Will had occupied the guest room in Mulder’s house. In that time his parents seemed to have gotten together and broken up, twice.  Will was pleased that Dana was coming over more often and last night when he had gone upstairs after an evening of the three of them blasting zombies on the Xbox she and Mulder were sitting on the couch, holding hands and speaking quietly.  

 Will woke up early and shuffled down the stairs to Mulder and Scully eating breakfast at the kitchen table.  ‘Well how about that?’ Will thought to himself.  ‘She stayed.’  He made himself some toast and sat with them and was very aware of them trying not to stare at him.  He watched as once again they had a whole conversation with just their eyes.  He sighed and said,

“You know, that’s really annoying.”

“What is?”  Mulder asked.

“That you two speak without actually speaking.”  They both chuckled.

“Yeah.  Sorry, we tend to do that.”  Mulder said as he smiled over at Scully who was peering at him over the rim of her coffee mug.

    Will had sat with Scully on the couch as he went over some lab results that they hadn’t gotten to from the night before due to the whole zombie apocalypse occurring in their living room and their need to destroy them.  Will was trying to understand one of the charts when all of a sudden he bolted up right from his sloughed position.

               “I know how to get the vaccine into everyone.”

               “Skinner already decided that we would bring back a virus to scare people into getting the vaccine.”

               “No.  I don’t think that will work, I think it needs to be something bigger, something that no one can possibly live without.”  Will paused, stood up and started to walk around the living room. “It has to be our water supply. We have to tell people that the water supply has been infected, damaged in a way that will scare people and have them hording bottled water.  We have to get to the plants that bottle water, the FDA inspects them, right?” Will stopped talking and turned to look over at Scully who had been watching him with her mouth slightly agape. She was fascinated by how he paced and thought out loud just like Mulder.

               “Dana?”  Will tried again.

               “I’m sorry, yes, the FDA inspects bottled water plants, but why?”

               “The government replaces the normal inspectors with people who you can trust and they somehow inject the water, they put the vaccine IN the bottled water and bam, we get everyone inoculated and they have no idea, no lining up for shots or anything like that.”  Will was smiling now, he was pretty proud that he’d come up with this idea.  Scully smiled and was nodding her head,

               “I like it.  I’ll have to run it by Skinner, but I think it makes a lot of sense.”

 Two Weeks Later

                 Scully sighed, stretched her back, the popping noise rousing Will who had fallen asleep sitting up on Mulder’s couch. Scully glanced over at him, an apologetic look on her face.

               “Sorry my old back woke you.”

               “It’s ok.  Have the tests worked?”  William was referring to the testing of the vaccine that he had unwittingly written that would end up saving mankind from the inevitable Alien Colonization.  William and Scully had spent the better part of two weeks doing little else than testing the vaccine in a soluble content.   Slowly a smile spread across her sleep deprived face and she said,

               “Yep.  Would you like to come with me to the hospital tomorrow and help me?”  William ran a hand over his face, mainly to hide his excitement, it just wasn’t cool to be excited when your fifteen.  He spoke softly,

               “Sure.  Whatever.”

 Chapter 27

 Mulder’s House

October 15

                 The smell of burning bacon invaded William’s nostrils and for a moment he was transported back to Wyoming, back to the days when John, his adoptive father, would take a crack at making breakfast and would more or less just make a mess of things.  He kept his eyes closed for a few more minutes, enjoying his memories of his former life when things had been simpler and he didn’t know that he had written a vaccine that would ultimately save mankind and his parents were alive and happy.  The crushing reality settled over him and the knowledge that both his parents were dead and he’d never see his dad fanning the smoke out the kitchen window while his mom contemplated whether or not to call the fire department made him as sad as the day he’d learned of their untimely deaths.  Often he would get flooded with memories of his parents and he was unable to stop the flow of emotion that they brought.  Thankfully he tended to be by himself so his tears went unnoticed by Dana and Mulder.  He laid in bed until he could hear his parents arguing over the breakfast fiasco that was currently taking place downstairs.  Will smiled, knowing that while he would always love and miss John and Louise he now had his birth parents and his life was much more chaotic than before.  The uneasy, sort of anxiety that he used to have had vanished after coming to live permanently with Dana and Mulder, as if being with them made him whole, complete in a way he had never felt before.

                 “You’ve got to have bacon on the day you save the world.”  Mulder said as he smiled over at Scully who was desperately trying to open every window to let out the smoke that Mulder had caused trying to cook.

               “Remind me, how do clogged arteries help save the world?”  Scully asked amusement on her face betraying her words.

               “Bacon makes everything better, Scully.”  To prove his point Mulder grabbed a slice of burnt bacon and crunched off a section, smiling as he did so.

               “You’re incorrigible, Mulder.”  

               “You should keep to spaghetti.”  Mulder spun around and saw his son standing in the living room pinching his nose.  Mulder dramatically brought his hand over his chest, feigning hurt and betrayal.

               “Please tell me that you made the eggs?”  William asked looking over at Scully who nodded.

     Chapter 28

That Afternoon

 Scully drove with Mulder holding her other hand in his lap in the passenger seat next to her and Will beat out a rhythm that only he heard from his earbuds. Today was the day, the day that Will’s vaccine would be pushed into every water bottle company in the world and would save mankind, much to their ignorance.  They decided to celebrate by going to a National’s baseball game. Mulder had learned that Will, who was an avid baseball fan, had not yet been to a major league game.  He had wanted to change that as soon as possible and the day that Will would save mankind from alien colonization seemed like the right day.  It was also a first family trip.  They had sat Will down two days after their late night phone conversation and told him that they were done with their fighting and while yes, they would argue from time-to-time, that was just them, but that they wanted to be together and that meant that they would be a family and would be living under one roof and would be finding a new place soon.  Will had taken the news well and while he did his best to act bored with the news, he couldn’t help the smile that crept over his face and the way his blue eyes lit up.

 As he listened to his music he thought how unfair it all seemed that he had written a vaccine to save mankind, came up with how to get everyone inoculated and no one would ever know.  He didn’t want a statue of himself or anything, but some worldwide recognition would have been nice.  His eyes shut, the warm fall sun warming his face from the backseat window and he remembered.

 “We have to keep this a secret.  The world can’t know that they were vaccinated against their will, it could lead to civil disobedience the likes of which no one has ever seen.  The less people know the better, let them enjoy their live streaming of cat videos, their endless parade of fast food and their ignorance of what could have ended their lives in an instant.”  Assistant Director Walter Skinner, sitting in his office, behind his large walnut desk stared into Will’s eyes, ensuring that he understood the importance of never breathing a word of this to anyone.  Mulder and Scully were standing behind Will, each with a hand on his shoulder.  Will had nodded his head, he knew it was for the best.  Skinner had finished his lecture by telling him that by way of thanks from the U.S. Government that he could attend any University of his choice for free and well anytime he wanted a job in the government it would be his for the asking. Once they left the meeting and as they walked down the hallway of the FBI Headquarters Will told his parents that he didn’t think he had the stomach to work for the U.S. Government.  He had never seen his parents smile quite so broadly as they did that day.  

 The world governments would inoculate their citizens over the next several months with their own plans for getting them to drink the vaccine induced bottle water. The American government decided to go after the fear that it knew it’s citizens had over terrorists and decided to capitalize on that by pretending a home grown terrorist had infiltrated the water supply around the country with arsenic.  The American government decided to go against its capitalist nature and made certain that not only would there be enough, but the bottled water would remain at a low price point to ensure that everyone and not just the wealthy were able to buy it.  Other world leaders had decided to be truthful about the actual harmful toxins that were already in its water supply to force people to buy the bottled version while others were in such water starved regions that the aid workers bringing bottled water would be seen as nothing more than business as usual.  The plan was to have as much of the world vaccinated as possible in just under four months.

      Chapter 29

 October 30

Mulder’s House

 It was early, but Will was awake, lying in bed and finding that he was actually excited to start school again.  The plan had been to buy a home near his new school so that he could begin the second semester in January after having taken the first semester off due to his running away from home after the Cancerman had dropped by to reveal his destiny and his adoptive parents murdered when their house exploded. During that time, he and Dana had spent weeks going over his notes and came up with the vaccine that was slowly, but surely inoculating the world against the alien black oil.  A smile slowly formed on his face, he had saved humanity.  No one would ever know, but it still felt pretty damn good.    

 The house search was slow and tedious.  It finally ended last weekend when they found the perfect house in a quiet neighborhood at the end of a cul-de-sac just blocks from the private school that he would attend.  After having lost everything, but the few clothes he had brought with him and his phone William had no possessions.  He was looking forward to moving in and getting his things back in order.  

 Chapter 30

                  Sunlight streaked in through the half closed curtains and bathed the two sleepy occupants in a soft warmth.  Scully buried her face in Mulder’s chest, trying to escape the sun and hoping for a little longer snuggled in bed next to him. Mulder didn’t budge, his arm wrapped possessively around Scully and the other over his stomach.  She gave his chest a soft kiss and looked up at his face which was so serene.  She secretly loved watching him sleep, his face when awake was often a puzzle of emotions, but in sleep he looked so young and unconcerned with the world around him. Scully scooted up ever so slightly and gave his stubble chin a soft kiss.  Mulder stirred and made a soft moan, but his eyes remained closed in sleep. Mulder was still lost in his half asleep, half-awake dimension where he was remembering last weekend and finding their new house.  He was back in the Master Bedroom where he and Scully were alone.  They had been talking about the pros and cons when Scully had said,

                 “It’s a good space.  What do you think, Mulder?”  He got a wicked grin on his face and said,

               “Let’s see if it passes the test.”  He brushed his knuckles over her cheek and combed his fingers through her hair, just over her ear until they rested on the back of her head.  He bent slightly and tilted his head and slanted his mouth over hers.  His lips were soft on hers and she immediately melted into him.  His other hand reached out and gripped her waist and brought it firmly up against him.  They hungrily explored each other’s mouths.  Mulder let out a little moan into her mouth when she shifted her hips against him.  He broke the kiss and chuckled slightly.

               “Did it pass the test, Mulder?”

               “M’mm, I’d say so.  Let’s make an offer.”

               “Let’s do it.”

    Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  Mulder stood with his back to the counter, arms crossed as he watched Scully ignore him as she put away the groceries.

               “What aren’t you telling me?”  

               “Hmm?”  Mulder knew her tactic of pretending that she didn’t hear him when she didn’t want to answer his question.  He tried again.

               “Scully, come on, what’s going on?”  Scully closed the refrigerator door, sighing as she studied the floor.  Now Mulder was getting anxious, what could possibly be so bad?

               “Bill is visiting from Germany and he’s coming over for dinner tonight.”  Yep, it’s that bad Mulder thought to himself.  He tried to keep his face even and not yell that that asshole wasn’t invited to his house, to visit his family.  He always felt very primal around Scully when it came to Bill.

               “It’ll be a quick visit, it’s a work and school night.”  When Scully still didn’t get a response she walked over and wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to meet her lips.  She brushed her lips against his almost tentatively, she knew this wasn’t a fair ploy, but sometimes it was the only way to get him to see her side of things.  He was still standing with his arms crossed over his chest when she pushed her tongue out and parted his lips.  Mulder growled and unfolded his arms so he could wrap them around her waist and pull her into him.  Mulder hungrily tasted her, his tongue swirling and caressing hers as his hands eagerly untucked her blouse until he felt her smooth skin under his fingers. Unable to breath any longer, he broke away, but kept his forehead against hers.

               “You don’t play fair, Scully.”  The corners of her mouth twitched up and her eyes twinkled as she said,

               “If you’re good I’ll show you later how really unfair I can be.”  Mulders eyes widened at this and his whole body hummed at what that could possibly mean. Just then the back door opened with Will and his best friend, Janie spilling inside from the cool Spring day.

               “…chapter seven is totally killing me.”  Will looked over at is parents immediately sensed that something was off.   “What’s wrong?”  

               “Just the end of the world.”  Mulder said looking over at his son, smiling.  Will dropped his backpack onto the kitchen counter and took off his hooded sweatshirt and laid it on top of his bag, still looking at them with those same intense eyes that Scully often had when reviewing autopsy findings.  Scully stepped out of Mulder’s arms and turned to look at her son, her features softening.

               “Don’t listen to him.  My brother, your Uncle Bill, is coming over for dinner tonight. He happens to be in town and wanted to visit and to finally meet you.”  

               “And he’ll be sure to remind me that I’m a ‘sorry son of a bitch’ as well.”

               “Mulder!”  Scully turned around and smacked his arm.  Will rolled his eyes, his parents could be really strange.  

               “So, uh we have a Chem test tomorrow, can we study in here?”  Will gestured towards the eat-in kitchen table.

               “Of course.  Let me know if you two need any help.”  Scully turned and gazed back up at Mulder who had slipped his arms around her waist again and pulled her tightly against him.  Will sighed and opened up his backpack to pull out his tablet and notes.  He turned around to Janie who had been silently watching the exchange and was now intrigued by Will’s parents who apparently forgot that the two of them were even still there as they stood gazing at one another.  Will looked over his shoulder and back to Janie.  He rolled his eyes and asked,

               “Hey, do you want something to drink?  I think we have some pretzels or chips if you want?”

               “Sure that would be great.”  Will walked to the refrigerator and after grabbing them each a Coke he turned towards his parents.

               “Do you think you two could be disgusting in another room?”

               “Will!  They aren’t disgusting, it’s so sweet that they are still so much in love.”  Mulder and Scully broke a part and chuckled.  

               “Yeah, I’ll remember that the next time your parents are acting like this in front of us.”

               “Please.  My parents barely tolerate each other.”

               “Lucky.”  

               “Come along darling” Mulder said as he grabbed Scully’s hands “let’s go be, how did you put it” He looked back at Will, “‘disgusting’ in the living room.”

               “I’m coming back in at 4:30 to start dinner.” Scully said over her shoulder as Mulder pulled her along towards the couch in the adjacent living room.

                 The house smelled wonderful and Mulder was annoyed that it was all for Bill Scully.  He watched Scully go from pot to oven, back to the stove and hoped that he wouldn’t be forced to punch her brother at some point during the evening. Will had retreated up to his room once Janie had left.  

               “Can you go get Will?  Bill should be here any minute.”  Mulder knew that Bill was punctual and a 5:30 invite meant he would be at their house at 5:30 on the dot.  Mulder glanced at his watch as he walked towards the staircase and saw that he had three minutes to get his son downstairs.  Mulder knocked on the closed bedroom door and when he didn’t hear any movement he opened it a crack and saw the ever present earbuds inserted in Will’s ears as he sat crossed legged on the bed hunched over a notebook as he quickly wrote.  Mulder tried not to scare him and used his arms to make big waving gestures.  Will startled and grabbed one of the cords and yanked out one of his earbuds.  Mulder could hear the music blaring out.

               “Hey, Bill should be here any minute.”

               “How come you hate him?”  Will never danced around any subject.  Just like his mother, Mulder thought as he sighed and sat down on the bed next to him.  

               “It’s twenty years’ worth of issues, but the real issue is that he doesn’t think I’m good enough for his sister.”  Will chuckled at this and looked at Mulder under his flop of hair that was almost constantly in his eyes.

               “So, the same age old story, huh?”  Will bumped his shoulder against Mulder’s playfully and stood up.

               “Well now it’s three against one.”  Mulder smiled and felt his heart warm at his son’s statement.  ‘Three against one’ he liked the sound of those odds.  They were just making their way down the stairs when the doorbell rang. Scully walked over to Mulder and laced her fingers through his and walked towards the front door with him in tow. Mulder took a deep breath as Scully opened the door and revealed Bill Scully.  Bill held a bottle of wine and smiled when he saw his sister.

               “Dana, you look beautiful as always.”

               “Thanks, Bill.  You look wonderful too.”  

               “Mr. Mulder.”  Bill nodded towards Mulder and glanced down to see that his hand was occupied holding his sisters hand and therefore unavailable to shake.  He looked back up to see Mulder looking smug.

               “Come in, come in.” Scully took a step back and pulled Mulder aside to allow her brother into their home.   Will came around the corner from the kitchen at that point.  Scully beamed when she saw him and looked over at Bill to watch his reaction.

               “William?”

               “Yep.  I mean, hi it’s a pleasure to meet you.”  Will walked up and firmly shook Bill’s hand.  Bill smiled and looked over at Scully.

               “I see he’s a chip off the old Scully block with his impeccable manners.”  Bill’s eyes slid to Mulder and once again down at his hand that was still laced with his sisters.  Scully, feeling the tension already between the two walked up to Bill and took the wine from his hands and said,

               “Let’s go into the kitchen and I’ll open the bottle.” Mulder squeezed her hand and let go knowing that they couldn’t spend all evening tethered together even though he desperately wanted to.

               “So, Bill how’s Germany?  Are you heading back soon?”  Mulder asked.

               “Yes, Tara and the children and I are enjoying it. I head back out in two days.  What exactly are you doing with your time these days?  Dana was vague over the phone.”  Mulder smiled, knowing that Bill was hoping he would say ‘nothing’ and meet his loser expectation.

               “I’m a professor at the University.”  

               “And what is it that you teach?  A class on wasting your life searching for things that aren’t there?  You would certainly be an expert in that respect.”  

               “Bill you have no right insulting Mulder.  He didn’t…”  She was interrupted by Will.

               “He teaches Psychology and he’s brilliant. If you took a moment to look outside of your very narrow view on the world, then you’d know that he didn’t waste his life searching for things that aren’t there.  You owe my dad an apology and me for insulting him in front of me. You spoke about my impeccable manners coming from the Scully side, but clearly they come from my dad.”  Mulder stood, mouth open and eyes wide.  He had never seen anyone speak to Bill Scully that way and never had Bill been so eloquently taken down a few rungs.  Bill looked at Will and he realized what he had done, he would not have stood for someone speaking to him that way in front of his children either.  He looked down for a moment and back up.  

               “You’re right, William.  Mr. Mulder, I apologize.  I shouldn’t have said those things about your career.”  He took a few steps towards Mulder and offered him his hand. Mulder studied it for a moment and reached out and shook it.

               “Oh, Uncle Bill?  It’s Will and just Mulder.”  

                  The evening went smoother than any of them expected after the initial tension and terse words.  Bill entertained them with some stories of his children and their learning the German language that had them all laughing.  After dinner Will had gone back upstairs to finish studying leaving the adults to the living room where they were having coffee.  Scully had excused herself to use the restroom and Bill sat forward in the chair and rested his elbows on his knees while looking directly at Mulder.  

               “You’ve been given a second chance at a family. I hope you don’t run off again.” Mulder frowned.  He knew that Bill would never understand the reasoning he had to go and he wasn’t about to explain it to him.  Bill continued,

               “For some reason my sister and nephew love you and I don’t want to see either of them hurt again.”  Mulder gritted his teeth and hissed, “Neither do I.”  Scully walked back into the room and saw the faces of her brother and Mulder and knew she missed something.  She sat down next to Mulder and took his hand into hers and gently squeezed.

               “Dana, it’s been a lovely evening, but I’m afraid it’s getting late and I need to be shoving off.  Thank you for inviting me to your home and for a wonderful home cooked meal.”  Mulder and Scully stood and Scully wrapped her arms around her brother for a quick hug. Bill turned to Mulder and shook his hand.

               “Take good care of her.”

               “He does, Bill.”  Bill nodded and walked towards the front door.

                 Scully closed and turned the lock on the front door. Her shoulders sagged and she turned to see Mulder smiling that devilish look that he often gets when he knows he going to be getting some.

               “Was I good?”  Mulder asked as he walked towards her and gently pressed her up against the front door.

               “Very.”  Was all she was able to get out before he slanted his mouth over hers and began kissing her with an intensity she hadn’t seen from him since they had gotten back together.  She put her hands on his chest and gently pushed him away.  He was panting and looking down at her, his eyes full of concern.

               “I’ll never leave you, Dana.  I promise.”  He stroked her cheek and brushed a piece of hair over her ear as his eyes searched hers, hoping that she knew he meant what he said.

               “Oh Mulder, of course I know that.  Don’t let Bill get inside your head.”

               “I just want you to know how much I love you.”

               “I love you too.”