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randomfoggytiger · 8 months

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"Proving" Mulder Knew He Was the Father of Scully's Baby

(Had to get this out before the next part of Mulder's Alien Baby Baby Trauma series; so... here we go~!)

Mulder knew he was the father of Scully's baby before Three Words began; and his reticence had everything to do with his PTSD, guilt, and fear and nothing to do with feeling replaced by his partner's child. His ending monologue in Existence further proves this, concluding Mulder's emotional turbulence: "I think what we feared were the possibilities. The truth we both knew."

But how is that to be proven?

Cutting Out Context to Bait the Mystery

According to the script (uploaded here by @x-files-scripts, thank you~), Scully very casually mentions how far along she is separate from her concerns about (and to) Mulder. Mulder doesn't react to this information at all, meaning whatever his reticence and withdrawal were rooted in had nothing to do with feeling replaced as the father of her child.

Throughout their conversation, Mulder tries to keep Scully from digging deeper into his emotions or trauma, deflecting with humor or emotional separation. Scully finally directly addresses his distance; and (though a bit out-of-order from how it aired), the scene below makes two things very obvious:

SCULLY: Mulder --

MULDER: (cutting her off) -- whatever you're going to say, Scully, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be cold. Or ungrateful to you.

SCULLY: I don't know if you can truly understand what it was like.... And now to get you back....

MULDER manages a smile, finally. But only barely.

MULDER: You act like you're surprised.

Scully manages a chuckle, but she's truly worried about him.

SCULLY: I prayed so many nights. And my prayers were answered, Mulder.

MULDER: In more ways than one.

MULDER looks to Scully's stomach. Which she touches.

SCULLY: Yes.

MULDER: I'm so truly happy for you. I know what it means to you --

SCULLY: Mulder --

MULDER: (cuts her off again) -- but I'm having trouble processing any of this. I don't know why I'm here, or where I fit in anymore. I feel strange. Like this can't be happening.

SCULLY nods. Anything she had wanted to tell him will wait.

SCULLY: That's what I've been saying to myself for the last eight months.

What Scully "had wanted to tell him" had nothing to do with her child's paternity nor was that even a concern because she, as mentioned above, says "the last eight months" effortlessly. (An important note: because they kept no show bible, the writers forgot Mulder was missing three months and buried another three; but the intent behind that line is the same even if there isn't or wasn't a numbers problem to quibble over.)

"The last eight months" comes at the tail end of the conversation without a remark or quip from Mulder's perspective, meaning this wasn't news enough for him to comment on or even react to. Scully's statement bookended their discussion, meaning she wasn't drawing it out longer or forcing information down Mulder's throat that he wasn't ready to process. Since that is the case, both knew the problem wasn't her pregnancy (though it was a stressful factor) but was another, bigger concern.

Devil's advocate: Scully was trying to tell Mulder the baby was his-- Gillian Anderson's expressions debunk this theory, but we'll press on-- and the months referred to was how long Mulder was "gone": in which case, Scully being hugely pregnant would have been a huge tip off for her partner regardless; and Mulder, for as much as he is avoiding the obvious this episode, is not stupid.

By cutting up the script-- taking out important context and removing crucial lines-- the audience is left to speculate on information that what was intended to be understated yet obvious (though unconfirmed until the finale episodes.) Chris Carter and Spotnitz have already stated they'd baited Scully's pregnancy as much as they could (one such interview here, credit to @babygirlmulder1018 for the upload~) while always planning for Mulder to be the father. The problem with their method is that they sacrificed necessary clarity for ambiguity, leaving the actors to scramble or fill in the butchered gaps as much as they could with implied body language. Three Words Mulder's affectionate, though fleeting, glances at Scully's belly or Scully's heightening worry for his well-being are debatable clues, all dependent on the viewer's interpretation (even when rewatched with hindsight.) The key to any good mystery is to have all the puzzle pieces in place so that it makes sense when you go back and see them all line up. Cutting out important clues early just to bait the mystery is foolhardy, especially when those gaps are never filled-in with any answers; and The X-Files show, while built around unsolved or unresolved mysteries, always provided a likely explanation (even if that explanation was later revealed to not be entirely true.) It's a shame that this premediated action thoughtlessly skewed the reading of the scene so badly that it took away from its original intent-- Scully's worries over her partner as he becomes more and more lost in his trauma-- and turned it widely into a "bet he's jealous or feels left behind because Scully moved on without him" interpretation, muddying it for viewers over the decades to come.

It's not the first time a script has been stripped of its original intent to fit the vision of the showrunners (often to the frustration to the various writers, actors, directors, etc.); but there is a marked difference between the tampering done to, for example, David Duchovny's personal ideas and scripts in keeping with the mythos of the show (Cinefantastique: David Duchovny on "The Unnatural" and "Hollywood A.D.") and specifically removing an important piece of dialogue to intentionally blur a scene for "the mystery" without that action serving any goal other than obfuscation... and, ultimately, confusion.

Mulder Himself Proves He Knew

According to the script, Scully's concerns started in her partner's hospital room when Mulder's non-reaction snags her notice twice in a row:

"His reaction is so underwhelming that Scully has to laugh" and

"The doctor has to chuckle, looking to Scully. But Scully isn't humored now. She reads something in Mulder past the humor. And Mulder catches her sensing it. That he is deeply troubled."

"Mulder catches her sensing it" is a crucial piece of information, smoothly setting up the scene at his apartment-- Mulder doesn't ice Scully out (always responding to her pleas with mustered up but equal sympathy and sorrow) but he avoids her eyes as much as possible, not wanting to be read, to be "exposed." THAT is what concerns Scully-- never before in their partnership has he evaded eye contact, likely seeking it more often than any other person on the planet. But Mulder (also likely more than anyone) knows that eyes are the window to the soul; and he doesn't want his bared yet.

The tricky part of the ensuing scenes is not to mistake his avoidance of Scully's detection with his avoidance of the baby. Mulder is avoiding everything equally-- but he will still spare a moment for his partner or his baby here and there before snatching away his focus again, dodging any opportunity that might lead to vulnerability.

At his apartment, Mulder turns aside whenever he can or spreads a plaster-fake grin on his face when in conversation;

but it melts into sincerity after he finally acknowledges the baby in the room. It's not quite happiness, but it is a form of contentment and a little pride (similar to his look on the couch in Empedocles.)

When Scully wants to commit anarchy over Kersh's tyrannical terms, Mulder squashes that impulse flat, sparing a strained but still sincere smile as he directs her attention to the pragmatic fact of her baby.

(It's not until "Agent Who?" comes across Mulder's radar that he starts to stiffen against Scully's reticence. Again, not about the baby.)

The last significant mention of Scully's pregnancy is in her kitchen at her apartment. TLG drop in to do their research... and to refocus Mulder on his impending miracle ("a certain blessed event") and away from his crazy mission. Mulder's amused at first with their commentary (as is Scully), giving an exaggeratedly suspicious, comedic squint (which Scully follows up with a witty repartee on his investigative methods)--

until he figures out his partner's ulterior machinations. (The tensions that trail them both the rest of the episode are because of Scully's interferences and not-- again-- because of the baby.)

Those are the only direct references to the baby in Three Words, although Scully does tag along on his madcap mission with TLG); and Empedocles starts out in the spirit of the kitchen scene above-- Mulder squinting about the pizza man, ribbing Scully lightly, and enjoying getting ribbed in return-- but with the added bonus of some unfiltered, heartfelt moments of a man fully embracing fatherhood.

So why, if the original intent of the struggle of Three Words wasn't about the paternity question, does Mulder still struggle with doubts the rest of the series. Well... what were his paternity doubts?

Paternity Doubts

Mulder knew (logically) that his partner wouldn't run into the arms of another man or through the doors of the nearest IVF clinic just because he was chucked six feet under; but that reassurance gave him nothing to stand firmly on since both of their lives revolved around clones, aliens, and even a little girl that was born (and died) to serve an agenda.

Scully had been used over and over against her consent and was ultimately stripped of her fertility; and even though Mulder once said "never give up on a miracle", the IVF had failed, and there had been months of regular extracurricular activities since without even a thought of a baby on either of their radars. But somehow, the minute he vanishes off the planet, she finds out she's pregnant? The exact same somehow he was abducted and somehow returned and somehow resurrected? It doesn't add up; and Mulder's motto has always been "I want to believe."

"I have the same doubts you do, Scully," he said in the Pilot; and those doubts haunt him in Three Words; and (although they are temporarily set aside during the off-screen conversation Mulder has with his partner before Empedocles) they remain, along with his fears, buried under the surface-- as demonstrated by his opening monologue in Essence: "Is it the product of a union? Or... an answer to prayer-- a true miracle? Or is it a wonder of technology, the intervention of other hands? What do I tell this child about to be born? What do I tell Scully? What do I tell myself?"

Furthermore, the events of Essence and Existence make a bit (only a bit) more sense if those events-- Zeus Genetics, Billy Miles, Lizzie Gill, Krycek, the Super soldiers, and other such nonsense-- are put through another lens: trauma.

The Other, Bigger Concern

If Mulder knew the baby was his, why did he distance himself?

Simply put, PTSD.

Three Words very specifically chooses Mulder's flashbacks as his first scene (post here), providing motive to any future decision he makes. Being torn apart for three months and buried another three before being resurrected on a chance is a lot to grapple with; add in a pregnant partner who is clearly expecting a miraculous baby amidst a set of tragically unmiraculous events and looking to her recently resurrected partner for not only their old relationship but more and you get a PTSD-riddled, paranoid, and very panicked Fox Mulder.

Empedocles begins after the aforementioned off-screen conversation; and quite plainly establishes Mulder in his new paternal role, bringing Scully (and the baby) gifts like he has any other significant moment in their relationship (and also because it's no longer acceptable to bring triumphant caveman hunting trophies back to the domestic den.) This episode not only goes out of its way to give him a first-time "feeling his baby move" scene, but further cements Mulder's role by showing him standing sentry outside of Scully's door, doting on her hand and foot back at her apartment, and including their baby nonverbally in Scully's gratitude speech. These benchmark moments are then followed up by him briefly forgetting his baby in Vienen, not wanting to leave its side in Alone, and cycling back to his paternity worries in Essence-- further proof that his initial distance and on-again-off-again dance is rooted firmly in trauma rearing its ugly head to continually mess up his temporary peace.

That trauma follows him (mostly unacknowledged) the rest of Season 8, coming to a head (and exploding) during the events of Essence and Existence. When his security in Scully's science and himself are completely eroded, Mulder is left blindly grappling for any explanation from any nearest and newest source currently in front of him (handing off Scully to his sworn enemy should have been the tip-off point to both she and Skinner, prompting them to put a stop to his spiraling before doing anything else... but I digress.) His hot-and-cold attitude is back (referring to their child as "your baby") even though his fiercely protective love and interest hasn't faded one bit ("will do anything to protect it.")

Deep down, Mulder always knew (or at least hoped) the baby was his-- "the truth we both know," after all.

So, What Does This Mean?

Probably nothing in the grand scheme of things, but a rippling domino effect in the minutiae. It explains Mulder's distant-then-doting attitude, the manifestation of his PTSD and impending parenthood, and even why he was happy to have Scully firmly glued by his side throughout Three Words (even if he couldn't meet her eyes at times.) Scully's pregnancy was a change for both: almost overnight she needed more from their relationship. However, once she realized how displaced and harried Mulder was, Scully relaxed the pace for both of them (off-screen...), allowing Mulder to finally recover, regroup, and continue on. Once that understanding was reached (again: off-screen), Mulder started to take his journey more gently (upsetting and resettling himself whenever Scully's health scares or his impulsive actions blasted him up, down, and sideways) while Scully refigured how to fit their new normal into the life she built in his absence. Like always, teamwork and their unspoken; and, overall, it makes Season 8's there-and-gone-again MSR bits that much more in-character and enjoyable.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

#txf #meta #xf meta #Mulder #S8 #“Proving” Mulder Knew He Was the Father of Scully's Baby #Scully #Deadalive #Three Words #Essence #Existence #Empedocles #x-files #xfiles #the x files #mine #dailytxf #xf30th #analysis

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ssavinggrace · 30 days

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gotta love grace sibling angst

#thalia grace hurt #thalia grace #jason grace hurt #jason grace #heros of olympus #toa #hoo #pjo #tsats #three words #the burning maze #that's it

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aaandbackstabbed · 23 days

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Stop what you’re doing!! And give me three words to describe Goldie O’Gilt —I’m trying something— pretty please <3

#it’s important just trust me #goldie o'gilt #three words #that all #reblog with your words #:D

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yourlovelyspace · 30 days

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Which ones would be yours? 💝

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precedex-files · 3 months

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Sometimes the X-Files has some really dated dialogue (Mulder saying he felt like Austin Powers when he came back to life, for example). This snippet SHOULD be dated and referring ONLY to the controversial 2000 election. But we all know how that story goes....brother...

Once again Mulder is right lmao

#the x files #x files #fox mulder #three words #that's so 2000s and 2010s and probably 2020s too

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soufflegirl · 9 months

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in je souhaite mulder and scully are finally in a place where they can drink beer together and watch a bad movie and just be. they've closed samantha's chapter and scully is fairly happy and mulder is finally at peace. and then requiem happens and mulder disappears and scully is pregnant and alone. and then mulder is dead and she has to bury him and move on without him while carrying their child and she is alone, alone, alone. and then mulder comes back and the world went on without him and what is his place in a world where scully is pregnant and has a new partner and the x-files weren't shut down because he wasn't there? and so his paranoia comes back and he can't sit still, he can't stay in a place, he has to move and prove that the world still needs him. and scully doesn't know how to be around him and how to communicate with him and tell him that she's carrying their child, their child! and it makes me so sad, because scully was fairly happy and then she's suddenly so alone and mulder was finally at peace and then he doesn't know where he fits in anymore

#s8 is killing me!#the x files #three words #deadalive #je souhaite #requiem #fox mulder #dana scully #txf #mulder x scully

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dunhamhairograpy · 2 years

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Three Words Cut Scene: Scully tries to tell Mulder he's the father of her baby... 💔

You wanted it.

It was written.

She tried to tell him.

They cut it.

Scully:

"Mulder, there's something I haven't told you. Maybe now's the time. Before you go --"

It should be noted, that Mulder probably tells her to be quiet because the Lone Gunmen are on the 2-way radio listening to the conversation.

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promptsbytaurie · 6 months

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dialogue prompts: three words

!!please credit/tag me if you use any! I'd love to see what you write!!

"I don't see?"

"Can you move?"

"We can't die."

"Slow down, tiger."

"I don't kneel."

"Where is she?!"

"This is awkward."

"Hush, young one."

"Is this home?"

"What went wrong?"

"I'm not sorry."

"He can't run!"

"Are you afraid?"

"Maybe I'm evil."

"...She was lying?"

"Don't you understand?"

"Darling, calm yourself."

"Eat my dust."

"Nope, no way."

"I'm not mad."

"Did you die?"

"You are nothing."

"We won't survive."

"I'm never enough."

"If we lose?"

"What a day."

"Um, maybe don't."

"Listen to me!!"

"I see everything."

"Calm down, love."

"This is war."

#dialogue prompts #prompt list #three words #three word #writing prompts #writeblr #31 prompts

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cecilysass · 1 year

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All the Dead Mulders

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic CW: depression, PTSD

Very early in the morning he takes Scully’s car and drives to North Carolina. It’s a dick move, because he showed up asking to sleep on her couch and then stole her keys before she woke up. It’s an even bigger dick move because she’ll have no way to get to work.

But as he sees it, he had to do it. He has no car himself anymore. He has no wallet with which to rent one. No friends who would drive him. At least no friends who would drive him and not tell her.

He doesn’t know why the small plot of Mulder family graves feels like an important place for him to visit, or why it feels like he needs to visit it right now, today, this morning. Actually, he’s been told it’s where he’s been spending the past few months. So homesickness, maybe?

Or maybe he just wants to touch his mom’s gravestone. And Samantha’s. A really selfish whim for him to indulge on week two of being newly undead, not to mention a risky one. He doesn’t even have a valid driver’s license anymore. An overzealous North Carolina traffic cop could really upset the apple cart.

But all that completely, cosmically just doesn’t matter. Mulder knows emotional numbness. He has had experience with several gradients of it before, dating back to early adolescence. But this? This takes the cake. This lack of feeling is a whole new level.

He sees all of the very good reasons not to steal Scully’s car and drive to North Carolina that morning—he understands them perfectly and could articulate them if someone asked—but they’re so far away from him that he can’t touch them, much less feel them.

He’s looking at them from miles above, like he never came back from orbit at all.

Anyway, she will be fine. Angry, frustrated, yes, but unharmed. The new partner will come pick her up for work, Mulder’s sure of it. He sounds like a considerate guy. Above reproach, she said.

Scully has given him a new cell phone, something sleek and small and silver. She gave it to him so that he could keep in touch with her—in case of emergency, she said. He turns it off somewhere around Prince William State Park, when the sun is just beginning to rise.

*** The sky is steel gray when he arrives at the cemetery, and there’s a misty rain hitting him in the face as he ambles over to the Mulder plot. Theirs is a small segment of an open field of headstones, but as he approaches it, he can see it looks particularly verdant and lush this morning. Fertilized by the flesh of all the dead Mulders, he supposes.

He instantly recognizes this as a poetic but fundamentally inaccurate statement. It’s really only his mother’s body fertilizing anything here. His father’s and sister’s corpses are not here; his father’s is actually enriching a cemetery in Massachusetts, and his sister is, well, precise whereabouts unknown. If Skinner hadn’t been such a pain in the ass about digging him up, his own body still could have been here. Contributing to something useful for a change.

Given his recent residency, he’d thought it might feel extra familiar around the old plot—something like visiting your former apartment, maybe—but it really doesn’t. He only recognizes it as the location of his dutiful semi-regular visits to pay tribute to his dead family. A nice place, but not a comfortable one.

As he comes closer, he sees there are fresh flowers on the ground before the headstone—for his parents, for his sister. Even his own ruined grave, which still stands there eerily with freshly upturned soil before it, has the same bouquet placed incongruously next to the earth-spattered headstone.

Three arrangements. He leans down to examine the flowers, feeling the petals lightly with his fingertips. Pale pink tulips, baby’s breath. There is a small card attached at the bottom of the arrangement with the name of the florist.

He recognizes the name, the mortuary florist; a little bell rings in his mind.

Could it only have been a year ago he arranged for flowers to be placed on his mother’s grave monthly, automatic debit? As if through mottled glass, he remembers the conversation over the phone from his apartment. The solicitous tone of the florist, her southern accent. That was shortly after his mother’s death. He’d only arranged for flowers for her. Not in his father’s name, not in Samantha’s, and certainly not in his own.

*** An elderly man in a dapper striped suit and bow tie, shoulders slightly stooped, is visiting a grave at the next plot. He sees Mulder and points a finger towards the clouded sky.

“Not a good day for this, is it?” He has a slight southern accent, a twinkle in his eye.

“I guess not,” Mulder says.

“Never going to skip it, though,” the man says, looking down tenderly at the headstone he’s facing. “She’s my girl. She’ll always be my best girl.”

Mulder nods, uncertain what to say. The slightest prick of something, though, makes its way through the numbness. It catches him off guard.

The man smiles at Mulder. “I’m not sure I’ve seen you here before,” he says. “Are you a family member?”

“They’re my parents,” Mulder says, gesturing to the headstone with their names in front of him.

“Oh, I see,” the man says sympathetically. “I didn’t know there was another son. I’m sorry about your brother.”

Mulder blinks once, slowly, realizing that the man is gazing at the upturned grave of Fox Mulder. It’s impossible to explain, so he doesn’t try.

“How is your brother’s wife doing?” asks the man. “I’ve spoken to her a few times.”

Again Mulder blinks, focusing his stare on the man. “His wife?”

“I admit I’ve worried for her, out here all by herself. Does she have people to watch out for her? So sad to lose her husband when she’s expecting a baby.” He sighs. “She told me her first name, but I’ve forgotten it.”

“Dana,” Mulder says softly.

“Yes,” he says. “Like a war widow from another age, that woman. So stoic. I’ve never seen her cry, but that’s almost worse, isn’t it? She looks like there’s just nothing left in her.”

“Yeah.”

“We talked sometimes. About losing your spouse. It’s not an experience many share. You?” Mulder shakes his head. “You’re very fortunate. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

Mulder doesn’t say anything.

“Were you and your brother close?” the man says kindly.

“No. Not really.”

“You must watch out for his widow, though?”

“I don’t think… I don’t think I’ve done a very good job of that.”

“I’m sure you will,” the man says gently. “We’re not ourselves, right after a death.”

Mulder nods heavily, gazing at his family’s headstone.

*** The florist’s shop is empty, with only a single silver-haired woman wiping off the glass case. Mulder walks in feeling as he always does now: like he isn’t really there, like he’s looking at all these lavish arrangements of peonies and gardenias and roses from a lofty distance.

He shows the woman the cards for the arrangements on the Mulder plots, and he explains where he found them. “Can you tell me whose account is paying for this? These are my family members, and I’m not familiar with what’s been arranged.”

“I can try,” she says affably. “We have this all on the computer now, so that supposedly makes it easy.” She sits down at a computer and opens it up, her eyes darting across the screen.

“Mulder, you say, sir?”

“That’s right,” Mulder says. “Teena, Samantha, William.”

“Well, let’s see, at first it was one arrangement for Teena Mulder paid for by her son Fox, but the son died, very sad. Then that account was taken over by Mulder grandchild, looks like.”

“Grandchild?”

“That’s the note I have—grandchild will take over. At that time two other arrangements were added, too.”

“Grandchild,” Mulder repeats stupidly. “You don’t have a name on a credit card?”

“I do,” the woman says. She looks at him sideways. “But who are you, exactly, sir?”

“I’m a family member.”

“Then shouldn’t you know?”

“I want to take over the account,” he says suddenly. “I want to pay. I’m the one that should pay.” He feels his pockets for his wallet, but of course he doesn’t have one. “Uh, I don’t have my card now, but I’ll call back, and I’ll switch it over.”

“Well, all right. The credit card now is a Dana K. Scully,” the woman says. “On behalf of Mulder grandchild. So you might want to talk to her first.”

“Yeah,” he says, remembering the three arrangements of pink tulips, of baby’s breath. “Yeah. Okay.”

“She’s the widow,” the woman explains. “The son’s widow.”

“Yeah,” he says, his eyes taking in the elaborate floral arrangements behind the woman’s head. They’re spilling over with intense color, fiery blossoms like beaks of exotic birds, feathery stalks shooting out the top. Someone’s gaudy way of expressing their feelings, he supposes. “Yeah, I know who she is.”

*** Mulder sits in Scully’s car, parked on the street outside the florist. It’s really raining now, which is frustrating, because he had wanted to walk to the Mulder plot one more time before driving back.

He wants to see the flowers there again, now that he has this strange piece of information to roll over in his mind. He wants to look at the tulips on his mother’s grave and think about why they’re there.

On behalf of Mulder grandchild. Flowers for one dead family member sent on behalf of another who is currently unborn. Living Mulders apparently don’t need to be involved at all.

The rain pours down the windshield in gleaming streaks. There is a rumble of thunder. Mulder should drive back to D.C., go back to return Scully’s car. His eyes fall on the silver cell phone sitting next to him on the passenger seat, silent and accusing.

*** When Mulder’s mother died, he’d become preoccupied with thoughts about the afterlife. Growing up he’d never believed in it, not even as a little boy listening curiously during his father’s family’s tepid Presbyterian church services. His inconsistent education in Judaism on his mother’s side never really touched on what happens after death. But his experiences in recent years, on the X-files, had opened up multiple windows on post-death experience. Conversations with those who are gone. Reincarnation. Hauntings. He could no longer dismiss the notion.

Not only that, Scully believed. And as he clung to Scully, as her fingers ran soothingly through his hair as he sobbed against her for his mother, he wondered if her firm belief in heaven could somehow transfer to him, just as his belief sometimes did to her. He’d prayed that it might. Maybe, he’d thought, it would be a comfort.

Later, they found out Scully’s beliefs were true. In a way. There was a better place, and Samantha was there. Happy and safe. That was a comfort, an unbelievable comfort. He remembers a different kind of weeping. A different kind of clinging to Scully.

None of that seems real to Mulder now. He tries to access the specific sense memory of his grief for his mother, his joy in discovering a happy afterlife for his sister. Sitting in Scully’s car, watching the rain surround him, he knows that he used to have those emotions, but he can’t remember what they felt like.

He soothingly rubs his own arms, up and down, willing himself to come back, come back.

He thinks he can remember one thing. What it was like to cling to Scully in those moments. The play of her fingers in his hair.

*** He falls asleep. He’s woken up by a firm, insistent rapping on the driver’s side window. He opens his eyes and focuses on the pale face distorted there behind the glittering raindrops.

Scully, disheveled with wet hair, her forehead creased in a frown. She’s calling his name through the glass.

He unlocks the door and gestures for her to come around to the passenger side. Another dick move, considering it’s her car.

She opens the passenger door and maneuvers herself gracelessly into the seat. He forgets every time he sees her now that her abdomen is so large. That yes, she is really and truly knocked up.

For a moment she just sits there, breathing heavy, facing the dashboard, dripping water all over the interior of the car. Her head is bent, just slightly, and rain plops off the ends of her hair.

He expects her to be furious. It seems the fitting emotion. He knows that, from back when he had emotions.

“Mulder,” she says: voice low, not especially angry. “Before I say anything else, I just want you to know that I don’t have any expectations of you.”

“Expectations?”

“I don’t know what’s going through your mind,” Scully says. Her voice is level, but her eyes, staring straight ahead through the front windshield, are very wide and wet. “I have no idea. But if this is about the baby. I know you might not be ready for…” Her gaze slides to him. “Well, I want you to know I have no expectations.”

He realizes what she is saying. She thinks he is running off because he is afraid of her pregnancy, because the idea freaks him out.

“It’s not about your baby, Scully,” Mulder says. He looks over at her in time to register that his statement of clarification has somehow hurt her. She has the look of someone who has just been struck across the face. He can’t really make sense of it.

“Okay,” she says, barely more than a whisper. “Then what?”

“Scully, I’m sorry,” he says, sighing wearily. “I thought your partner could give you a ride to work. I thought I’d return your car by the end of the day.”

“My car,” she repeats stonily. “You think I was worried about my car.”

“How did you get here?” Mulder wonders. He glances around out the windows. “Did your partner drive you?”

“I borrowed a car,” Scully says with precision. “I had the Gunmen find the last cell phone tower your phone pinged. I put two and two together. I’ve been … I’ve been physically sick with worry, Mulder. It was only months ago that I … How am I supposed to know what you’re…”

She stops. Tears are silently streaming down her cheeks.

“I’ve been thinking that this behavior is PTSD, that it’s trauma,” she says in a fragile voice. “But am I wrong? Do you need to be free from me? Is this deeper than…?”

She stops again. “I’m sorry,” she says, pressing her sleeve to her eyes. “I’m sorry. Just give me a second.”

He watches her fight her tears, and to his surprise, some sensation pushes through. It hurts a little. It reminds him of the feeling he had when talking to the man by his wife’s grave in the rain this morning. “She’s my girl. She’ll always be my best girl.”

“I don’t want to be free from you,” Mulder announces abruptly, surprising even himself. His voice sounds too loud.

Scully looks at him incredulously and wipes her eyes again. “Okay,” she says.

She’s looking at him warily, expectantly, as though she assumes there will now be some explanation forthcoming.

“I never want to be free from you,” he adds, voice softer. He closes his mouth in confusion. He’s talking without thinking, and he tries to determine how those words feel now that he’s said them.

They feel right, he decides. Like a starting place.

“Then why did you leave in the middle of the night with my car?” she asks. “Why did you come to Raleigh? To the cemetery?”

He just shakes his head, blinking at the steering wheel.

“You’re not trying to … you’re not trying to go back, are you?”

Now Mulder turns abruptly to her and studies her face. Scully habitually tries not to show her fear, even when she is in fact very afraid, but he can see that her mouth is drawn now, her lips bloodless.

“I don’t think so,” Mulder manages. “No.” He reaches out and takes her hand in his, linking fingers. She is the only starting place that makes sense, the only spot in the world he is feeling anything at all. “I just needed to … see my family, I guess. Even if they’re dead. It was selfish, I know. But can you understand that at all?”

Her stare hasn’t wavered. “Your family isn’t dead, Mulder.”

It takes him a moment to understand what she means. Of course his family is dead—they both know his mother and father died; they both know what happened to Samantha.

Grandchild will take over, he remembers. On behalf of Mulder grandchild.

His eyes hold hers. He doesn’t dare blink.

“You were pregnant when I left,” he says. “Weren’t you?”

“Yes.” Her eyebrows flicker together briefly. “Of course I was.”

“Of course you were,” he repeats. His eyes drop to their linked hands again. “I, uh, thought so, but I didn’t…” He starts again. “I didn’t know for sure until the woman at the florist said the flowers on the graves were sent on behalf of the Mulder grandchild.” He shrugs helplessly. “I had to think about it. I thought, I don’t know any Mulder grandchild.”

A beat. “You don’t know one yet,” she says. Her tongue darts out over her lips. “I want you to.”

There is a faint rumbling thunder somewhere outside.

“Yeah. I … want that, too,” he says. He doesn’t know how to think of himself as someone with children. He can’t help but look at her rounded belly, thinking of how disorienting and strange it is. That someone else related to him is under there, growing under all the protective layers of Scully.

Mulder swallows. “Paying for those flowers. For my family. It was really … nice of you, Scully.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah,” he says, puzzled by her sharp tone.

She sucks her teeth in frustration. “No, it wasn’t,” she says. “It wasn’t nice. When I called to arrange it with the florist, I was really angry with you, actually.”

“You were…?”

“Angry you’d left me to go to Oregon, angry you left period, angry you’d been hiding this fucking disease from me, angry you’d had this flower arrangement and this gravestone in Raleigh and I knew nothing about it.”

“Well, you arranged flowers for my whole family anyway,” Mulder says. “I’m grateful.”

Scully places both hands over her face, trying to compose herself. She removes her hands and looks at him. “I didn’t arrange them for your family,” she says. “I arranged them for mine. For the baby’s.”

So sad to lose her husband when she’s expecting a baby.

“Okay,” he says hesitantly. “Yeah.”

“At your funeral,” Scully continues, “I looked down, you in your family plot … and I said to Skinner, ‘He was the last.’”

Mulder’s forehead creases. It’s stupid, but he hadn’t completely visualized that Scully must have attended his funeral. Of course she did. Imagining the reality of that is another little painful skewer.

“Do you know what Skinner said?” she asks. “He said, ‘I don’t think Mulder was the last.’”

“Because he knew about the baby?” he guesses.

“No, Mulder,” she says. “Not because of the baby.”

Not because of the baby. He lets that sink in.

He tries to think about how to explain to her what’s happening with him. He knows he should, but his capacity for language is starting to fail him.

“For days after that,” she says, “I didn’t feel anything at all. For …weeks. Sometimes I wondered if I was dead, too. If this was what hell was like.”

That’s it, he thinks, amazed. That’s exactly it.

“What did you do?” Mulder whispers. “What helped you?”

“I guess I kept thinking about the baby and me being the last,” she says, her eyes widening. She leans towards him a little, as though sharing a secret. “Truthfully though? What really helped?”

He’s surprised to realize there are tears in his eyes, too. He nods.

“You came back.”

His mouth forms into a tiny smile then, and he sees her reflect his smile back. And although their smiles are fleeting, they’re a reminder of another feeling, something else he’d forgotten.

“Let’s go home, Mulder,” she says roughly. “I’ll buy you a pizza.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Sounds like a plan.”

“You want me to drive?”

“What about the car you drove here? Don’t you need to drive it back?”

“We’ll worry about it later. The Gunmen will help us. Or Doggett. Let’s just go home.”

He slowly nods his agreement. He’s not sure what she means by home—his or hers, together or singly—but he’s ready to do whatever she wants at this point. He hands her the keys, preparing to make the jog in the rain around to the passenger side. She’s the one with the valid driver’s license, and it’s her car.

But Scully doesn’t take the keys. She’s been distracted by seeing something in the back seat. She points. “Mulder, what in the world…?”

“Oh,” he says. He’d forgotten. It seems strange now, difficult to explain. “I picked those up for you.”

“Picked them up? Where?” Scully reaches back and lifts a bundle of damp and slightly-muddy flowers: pink tulips, baby’s breath. As if by instinct, she raises a tulip to her nose and sniffs it experimentally.

“Off my grave, actually,” Mulder says.

Other women might have recoiled, but Scully only raises a curious eyebrow. “These are from your grave?”

“Yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “I figured they were mine, so it’s not really stealing.”

Scully looks at him in disbelief, still holding the single tulip against her cheek.

“And you paid for them, after all,” he adds. He’s hit with a sudden rapid-fire burst of feeling, emotions he remembers all too well: guilt. Regret. Self-blame. “I would have gotten you a better flower arrangement, to say I’m sorry. But … I don’t have my wallet anymore.”

Wide blue eyes stare back at him. Then, to his surprise, she bursts into dark laughter.

“We should get you access to your money again,” she says weakly, wiping her eyes. “And a license, a car. Since you’re officially living.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Probably so.”

“Not today.”

“No, I was promised a pizza.”

He’s about to open the door to switch places again when she grabs his sleeve.

Surprised, he waits as she leans over to touch his face. He’s taken aback. She hasn’t touched him much since the hospital.

Her expression is intent and serious, and she lets her fingers run over the stubbly contours of his cheeks and jaw, which have so recently been cratered by the scars of death. Her fingers wind up stroking his hair gently, gently.

She doesn’t say a word, but her lip begins to tremble.

Mulder just remains still, letting her do what she needs to. It’s probably the least he can do. Besides, he can’t deny it. Something in her touch is nudging him closer, bringing to life another emotion.

Before they drive away, he notices she turns around from the driver’s seat to arrange the bedraggled bouquet in the back seat possessively. And Mulder’s heart continues its slow descent back to earth.

#the x files #x files fanfic #xfiles fanfic #deadalive #three words #season 8

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randomfoggytiger · 5 months

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Mulder’s Alien Baby Baby Trauma In-Depth (Part IV): Passive Mulder Turns Passive-Aggressive

As always, interpreting Three Words 'accurately' hinges on the littlest details in every shot, since the writers chose to be overly covert when translating the scripts onto the screen (post here); but the following scene is of paramount importance. It establishes Mulder's reawakened unhealthy routines, his ignited jealousy of Doggett, his distrust of Scully’s judgment, and his choice to push away from recovery and into the pitfalls of from-the-hip reactions. This pattern waxes and wanes the rest of the season until the birth of his child.

Hanging Out in His Apartment

The day after Mulder's return to his apartment, Skinner drops in and relates Kersh's reassignment refusal. Mulder spends the majority of the conversation letting them ride out their steam, shooting down other avenues to get him back, and ultimately revealing he hadn't cared to get back to work, anyway... until Doggett is mentioned.

Mulder is lounging on his couch sporting casual wear and bedhead, likely roused from sleeping-in (or taking a bonus nap) and dressed in presentable clothes for Skinner's sudden visit. Scully is also in comfy loungewear; and wouldn’t have had enough time to drive home, get changed, and drive to Mulder's apartment if she and Skinner left directly from work. Logically, this means she and Mulder were at his apartment all morning.

So, we know Scully was hanging around (either she spent the night, changed at either apartment, and stuck around or she went home for the night and came back the next day) and Mulder was letting her-- but how does Skinner fit into this domestic (un)bliss?

It’s hard to know for certain if Mulder had previously talked with Skinner in the hospital or if this is their first time catching up:

1. We were not privy to their opening “hello” or “good afternoon” scene; and are shown only Mulder’s tailend reaction to Skinner’s news.

2. Skinner is a consummate professional; and having seen Mulder at his literal worst, nothing afterward would, perhaps, faze him as much. At any rate, it’s in Skinner’s nature to keep a cool, professional demeanor when dealing with his agents about business; and that would be the easiest go-to when handling this situation now.

3. Skinner has behaved this way before when discussing his own PTSD and trauma: in One Breath, he put aside his professionalism temporarily to appeal to Mulder; but swiftly packed it away and went right back to his work mode. He knows trauma, knows his agent, and probably assumes this is the way Mulder would want it to be. And he’s not wrong.

What we do know is Mulder, while not himself, is at least acting like himself: trying not to seem aloof; including Skinner in his jokes, ideas, and ruminations; and relying on him-- though in a different way-- as much as he does Scully (and later The Lone Gunmen.)

The only change is the loss of that touch of vulnerability Mulder often showed Skinner in moments of crisis or great emotion. Now, he keeps a wall up, trying to block in what he considers corrosive parts of himself and block out the sympathy of others so he doesn’t have to address the compiling PTSD. Vulnerability comes with a price at this point; and Mulder-- excepting his brief confession in the previous scene (post here)-- is avoiding it at all costs.

The Pivot from Passive Mulder to Passive-Aggressive Mulder

The scene starts out with Mulder sitting, solo, on his leather couch-- more accurately, sinking into it heavily, his normal vibrancy zapped by exhaustion. False bravado is hard to maintain, especially when one has been dead a few days before, is battling worsening PTSD, and now suffers from recurring flashbacks that likely disrupt whatever sleep he can get.

“Kersh wants to put me behind a desk? That is not what Kersh wants.”

He looks over at Scully and Skinner who hover together a few feet from the couch. It appears that they had just finished their conversation about Kersh, pivoting towards him when Mulder piped up. This establishes a few things:

1. Mulder can already sense how close the two have gotten in his absence-- more accurately, that they've formed a tighter bond over trying to find him and battling Kersh in the meanwhile. (Scully picks up on this, and continually draws back to his side at every available opportunity, reinforcing how much she needs him.)

2. Mulder doesn't appear jealous during this exchange or any future one, seeing it as simply another marker of his time gone.

3. Mulder most likely assumes Scully didn't accomplish much on the files without him, his absence and her pregnancy holding her back (he botched one case in the two months she was gone, after all.) He even slips in the reality that she won't be on the X-Files much longer once her baby is born-- something he's already thought through and assumed she had, as well (which she hasn't, as later revealed in Alone.)

Overall, his consternation is at Kersh, not Scully or Skinner.

Scully strides over, silently asserting that her place is by his side, not their boss's. “Well, I think Kersh wants you to quit, Mulder.”

An interesting detail: while Scully spends this scene trying to get a pulse on Mulder’s listless mood and doubting whether she should push him forward or let him hang back, Skinner keeps an eye on Scully, judging (correctly) that he will better understand where Mulder’s coming from by reading how Scully reacts to her partner's responses.

And here’s a crucial detail: this scene sets up Mulder’s back-and-forth when it comes to reaching out and withdrawing from his impending fatherhood. As Scully walks over, her eyes flick down and away; and the camera reveals why when it cuts to Mulder, who has turned away and closed his eyes while she approaches and slowly levers onto the couch.

Throughout Three Words, Mulder does want his child, doesn’t dislike or hate it; but he’s so battered and drained that he can’t bring himself to reach out. In future episodes he bounces between excited father-to-be and man obsessed with answers because he needs to stop what happened to him from ever happening again-- trying to escape his trauma by attempting to stop the source. He begins repeating the past nearly thirty years’ mistakes-- avoiding reality (“life on this planet”) by charging at windmills-- except this time he’s had his peace, had happiness with Scully, and knows he has a kid on the way. It all rings false-- he'll be jumping back into work not because of the wonder of exploration and discovery but because he's using government conspiracies to hide from reality, giving up and reenacting his ‘I did what I could and can’t do any more’ fall back in The Red and the Black, One Son, and Amor Fati. In essence, Mulder is trapped in his trauma response (post here); and-- unable to take a progressive step forward-- he regresses backward to unhealthy Freeze-Flight loops, caught up in unessential “busy work” to distract from the bigger problems he feels he can’t fix. A way to feel in-control in his out-of-control life.

“It’s more than that,” Skinner asserts; and only then does Mulder turn his head, “He wants to punish you. To hurt you.” Another interesting detail: Skinner focuses on Mulder’s emotional well-being, directly stating “hurt you” with venom at Kersh and protective assurance towards his recovered agent. No longer is Skinner willing to be oblique about his care and concern about either agent-- and Mulder responds to this, and lets his boss back in a little bit more.

Another crucial detail (there will be a lot of these): when Mulder rattles off “And you by putting you in this position--” to Skinner, his voice is solid, stable, ‘normal’; but as he continues “--and Agent Scully”, Mulder falters, his voice sinking, some more of his pain and a little bit more vulnerability bleeding through. The thought of his partner being punished-- in his absence, after his return, for his absence and return-- churns his gut and effortlessly draws out his empathy towards her, despite his erected barriers and avoidance of more personal reconnection.

Even more crucially-- and touching-- is that Mulder slows his spiel, staring longingly at his partner while he says, “--for not giving up on me.” He then pauses, giving her his full attention and gratitude through their unspoken: he’s moved by her devotion, words not adequate in his beaten down state; and, in his own way, wants her to know he’s seen her efforts, understood the lengths she must have gone, and is overcome by them.

And Scully knows this, shyly ducking her head down and slightly pursing her lips (a Scully tell of “I heard you, but I don’t know how to respond yet.”)

Back to business, Mulder’s voice loses that soft quality once again: “Truth is, this was a bullet that was fired about eight years ago.” Sardonically waving his pointer finger around for emphasis, he continues, “It’s a magic bullet that’s been going round and round and right now it seems poised to hit me in the back of the head.” He grimly stares at Skinner, who stares grimly back.

Scully cuts in, determination in her voice. ”I think the question is, Mulder, are we going to sit here and let this happen?”

Mulder is amused in spite of himself: he doesn’t lose his edge, but he softens at the corners, shooting incredulous smiles at his five-foot-two battle warrior while he ruthlessly (read: affectionately) tears apart her predilection for war with the facts: “Scully, you’re going to give birth in a couple months.”

She shifts, acknowledging his point, while Mulder keeps talking. “You can talk as tough as you like, but you know and I know and they know that in a little while you’re going to have more important things than whether or not the X-Files remains open.”

But it’s more than just the facts: Mulder doesn’t want to fight.

Mulder is not only traumatized but also willfully passive, seeing no hope in struggling for victory when all options are played out before they’ve even begun. Kersh reassigned him, Scully's leaving, the X-Files are doomed; and because they are doomed, he doesn't want to go back to work (and later doesn't want Scully to go back to work if Doggett is there and he's not.) It’s a cynicism that is hand-in-hand with his eternal optimism: when that optimism burns out, he quickly reverts to cynicism and Freeze-Flight loops.

Mulder has always responded well to Scully’s logical deduction or scathing criticism-- and it is scathing, at times-- because he needs to be told straight, in no uncertain terms, how he’s messing up and how he can fix it and move forward (ex. Scully reaming him about giving up on the world and himself in One Son and Amor Fati.) Scully, however, doesn’t trust herself to advise or even unleash on Mulder, knowing the pain of this specific violation but without the full horror of her memories to contextualize and fully understand it. Likely, she doesn’t even know Mulder can remember, assuming he was returned ‘blank slate’ like herself; and Mulder’s reticence and withdrawal compared to his previous vim and vigor whenever the government or aliens tampered with his memory utterly baffles her. And so, they coast… (until an off-screen scene right after this episode ends. But I digress.)

Scully looks away, knowing Mulder has her dead-to-rights but also knowing a piece of information he doesn’t: that Kersh still wants Doggett on the files. This means she and Skinner talked over Kersh's meeting before Skinner told Mulder; and that Scully still had not shared about Doggett, yet.

“Agent Who?” Mulder asks, intrigued more than threatened.

And then he’s met with silence; and realizing that’s never a good sign, he looks toward the one person he trusts to give him a straight answer… and realizes Scully hasn’t told the entire truth.

“I’ve had a partner… for the last seven months,” she reluctantly admits.

Mulder, struck, doesn’t even realize his head has wobbled back on the headrest while staring (blankly then angrily) at his partner.

The fact that Scully withheld this information means two things to Mulder--

1. Scully and Skinner kept him out of the loop about his job-- which is very different than wanting him back but respecting his distance.

2. Scully intended to keep important information from him, period.

--and sets fire to those old insecurities: Scully “I’m fine”ing through the years, Scully not admitting to what she saw because she was afraid, and Scully not relaying details to him to either protect him or herself. It’s the worst thing to reignite now because Mulder had thought she was the only certainty-- such as it is-- in his new, uncertain world; and now he wonders if he can rely on her, wonders if she trusts this ‘new’ him as much as the ‘old’ him.

“He was assigned to help me find you,” Scully adds.

Increasingly uncomfortable, Mulder pulls his legs into a pseudo-ball and wraps his arms around them, creating a soothing embrace of a sort for himself as well as another barrier to shield his anger at her and Skinner. “Mission accomplished.”

His act isn’t quite good enough-- Scully, dismayed, sees right through it; but doesn’t comment while he continues his questions to Skinner, not to her.

When Doggett doesn’t measure up to Mulder’s paranormal expertise, his dark suspicions become darker and more suspicious: “I see. Then maybe the question is not ‘who fired this magic bullet’ but whether or not it was a lone gunman.” He smirks, a wonky facsimile of his old, self-abasing, conspiratorial humor.

Again, Scully cuts in, not wanting Mulder to waste precious energy on an ally. “Agent Doggett is above reproach, Mulder. He’s being maneuvered just like you.”

Mulder is not convinced. “Good. At least he’s maneuverable.” With that, he immediately launches out of his seat and rushes off.

Mulder no longer trusts the angle of Scully’s judgment, translating her hesitancy to share Doggett as another clue of her blind belief ala religion, science, and some supernatural experiences (as well as her indignation over Diana Fowley in One Son, post here.) To Mulder, Scully was loyal to him and did her best in his absence… but she also let a wolf waltz into their office and remain in her midst, a part of their work, and next to her and her child. From here on out, Mulder chooses to follow no one’s council but his own, his trauma taking on a new shape: thrashing self-protection-- channeling his helplessness into hostility against Doggett and willfully disregarding Scully’s warnings as an effort to ‘save’ her from herself. He’s seen things she hasn’t, he remembers what she doesn’t, and he won’t let it happen again-- for her sake, but really for his own.

The last part of this scene is important, as well, hammering home how disconnected Mulder feels from himself before the Kersh madness was even brought to his doorstep:

“Where are you going?” Skinner monotones, talking down a crazy man.

“Gonna get dressed. For the first time, I feel like getting back to work.”

And for a man who felt alive and as close to whole as possible when chasing down leads with his fearless partner, this is both an alarming tell of his present feelings and a warning sign for his future recklessness.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

#Mulder's Alien Baby Baby Trauma #In-Depth #Part IV #Passive Mulder Turns Passive Aggressive #txf #meta #xf meta #Mulder #S8 #Three Words #mine #xfiles #x-files #the x files #analysis

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