From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 9 Feb 2004 03:24:38 -0000
Subject: Bill and Maggie Mull Things Over (1/1) by Mary Hugh
Source: direct

Reply To: sagawriter@buzzle.com


Title: Bill and Maggie Mull Things Over
Author: Mary Hugh
Rating: PG-13, for smatterings of coarse language
Disclaimer: I don't own any X-Files characters. I'm just
borrowing them so please don't yank my library card.
Archiving: By all means, but please let me know, and keep
all headers
Classification: post-series speculations
Spoilers: The Truth, William, How the Ghosts Stole
Christmas, Gethsemane, The Blessing Way, Memento Mori,
others
Keywords: post-The Truth, Scully family, angst
Spoilers: The Truth, William, How the Ghosts Stole
Christmas, Gethsemane, The Blessing Way, Memento Mori,
others
Summary: Dana Scully's brother and mother talk in early
January 2004
Feedback: Extremely welcome, at sagawriter@buzzle.com


Bill and Maggie Mull Things Over

"A second New Year's elapsed and we're still in the dark
about Dana's fate." Dejection and bitterness mingled on the
regular, still handsome features of the tall man in a full
commander's winter uniform. He hated this stymied, helpless 
feeling. But he regretted his outburst as his mother's eyes 
clouded. Scraping her wound concerning the second daughter 
lost to her only hurt her.

"Bill," she sighed, "At this point, we have to put our faith 
in God's grace. What else is there? You said yourself that 
you've exhausted avenues of inquiry through your Navy 
connections."

"Not that they did me a damn bit of good."

"And the FBI..."

"Is shut tight as a clam," growled Bill and started to pace 
the length of his mother's living room.

Busying herself more constructively, Maggie mechanically 
replaced Christmas tree ornaments in their cotton-lined 
boxes. She'd dreaded this, knowing as soon as Bill called
her from the airport that the charged conversation she'd 
avoided during the family gathering only days past would not
be skirted any longer. She continued her interrupted 
thought, "Mr. Skinner is in federal prison -- who knows 
where. For manslaughter. Mr. Kersh is dead. Agents Doggett 
and Reyes were reassigned to the Dallas field office when 
the X-Files closed that last time, and although they've been 
kind enough to keep in touch, they aren't in a position to 
say much." She added, "Not that they know much."

Bill nodded absently, "Yeah, the sole reason the FBI didn't 
boot those two agents is it wants to keep an eye on them. 
That's why they're still partners too. Easier for the brass 
to watchdog them both if they are in the same office 
assigned the same cases."

"Sometimes I wonder why John and Monica stay under those 
oppressive conditions. But then Kersh, when he was their 
A.D., tried to run Dana and Fox out of the Bureau by giving 
them scut work too. They weathered that. Perhaps John and 
Monica think they can also..."

"Mom, Doggett and Reyes returned from the Anasazi ruins in 
an SUV that the Army believes Mulder drove after escaping 
the detention barracks. When government criminalists checked 
the car for prints, both Mulder's and Dana's were found 
(along with Doggett and Reyes' of course). But Doggett and 
Reyes chartered a chopper to reach Anasazi, so the question 
is what happened to Dana and Mulder? Didn't they need their 
transportation anymore? They didn't commandeer the `copter; 
we know that!"

"You know the official story as well as I, Bill: that a 
small, crazed band of terrorists was holed up in the Indian 
dwelling there..." 

Bill caught the flash of anger in his mother's eyes. "You 
don't think our government was telling the truth about this 
group having missile launchers and other munitions and 
weaponry, do you?"

Maggie didn't answer. She continued as though he hadn't 
spoken. "...And Dana and Fox took refuge there and were 
killed when a military strike wiped out the lair." She 
snorted. "Request *proof* of death, however, and all we get 
is stonewalled." She studied a delicate blown-glass 
ornament. Dana picked this one out in a little shop when she 
was five.  

Watching her fingering the detailed figure of what little 
Dana'd called a `Seerapin', Bill didn't have to be psychic 
(and he wasn't) to know his mother's thoughts. He stuck to 
the subject,"Agent Reyes told me she and Doggett don't know 
what happened to Dana and Mulder. They told you the same?"

Steeling herself, Maggie looked her son in the eye, "They 
did."  She wasn't lying. But it wasn't the whole truth 
either.  The two agents had admitted privately to her that 
they'd seen and talked a few words to Dana and Fox before 
the black helos pumped missiles into the ancient hillside 
dwellings. They'd told her that there was another vehicle at 
the site. Mulder and Scully peeled out in a different 
direction in the other SUV, they said, after Mulder flatly 
rebuffed Doggett's plea that they all four drive out 
together. Maggie knew, just as Doggett and Reyes did, that 
Mulder had spared the two agents the fate he and Dana 
shared.  

Monica and John had not reported this contact with Mulder 
and Scully to their superiors or any other soul beside 
Maggie. She had not informed her commissioned son to spare 
him moral wrestling: His career could be compromised if he 
withheld information about an escapee from military custody 
and was found out. But if he tossed raw meat to the 
presently starving `they're alive' holdouts, Fox and Dana 
could spring up on Most Wanted lists. And the safety and 
careers (such as they were) of agents Reyes and Doggett 
might not be worth a plug nickel.  

Maggie felt guilty she had more evidence of Dana and Fox's 
survival than Bill did and wasn't sharing it. Churned by her 
unease, Maggie fixed her roving son with a glare he really 
didn't deserve -- at least not yet -- and clipped 
peremptorily, "Sit down, Bill.  You're not on a quarterdeck 
now.  I'm getting a crick in my neck looking up at you."

Feeling a jab of petulance as he perched himself on a chair, 
Bill nearly reminded his mother that he didn't command a 
ship, hence no quarterdeck for him. Instead he sat silent 
for a moment and then said plaintively, "Mother. Mom. If 
you'd heard from Dana, you would tell me, wouldn't you? I 
mean, even though she and I drifted farther apart the longer 
she was around Mulder, I want to know if she's sent word 
somehow that she is all right."  His eyes pleaded harder 
than his words.

"Oh, son." Maggie understood that Bill's commonplace bluster 
and bluntness served as hard shell to protect his natural 
sensitivity. She offered him a gentle smile. "I know how 
much you love and miss Dana.  Losing your father and then 
Melissa in less than two years cut all of our hearts. But we 
know they have definitely passed to the next world. For them 
we have closure, to use a trite term, if nothing else. With 
Dana, Fox," she paused, "*and William*, we don't."

Bill's lean, tanned face turned hard at the mention of baby 
(now toddler) Will. Jaw clenched, he ground out, "My God, we 
should have stopped Dana from giving up that sweet little 
boy. Talk about throwing miracles back in God's face!  If 
I'd known beforehand...." He ran his hands through his hair, 
causing the short ends to spike like a TV star's jelled do.

Maggie hurriedly interjected before Bill's rant soared into
the stratosphere. "Bill!" She caught his eyes again. "You're 
a disciplined military man.  You live the same warrior's 
code of your father. You know about personal sacrifice for 
the sake of a greater good. I know you'd unswervingly die 
for your country in the course of your duty just as you 
would die for your family if Tara and the kids were ever in 
danger." Moistening her lips, she said, "Heaven forbid that 
such actions should ever be necessary though because Charlie 
and I need you as brother and son as much as your family 
needs you as father and husband." Her breath hitched with 
emotion and she looked away for a moment.

Slightly puzzled by Maggie's shift to his world view and 
values, Bill rose and went to sit beside his mother on the 
sofa. He took her hand and squeezed it comfortingly. Of 
course she was right, he thought. In these post-September 11 
times especially, he and fellow soldiers felt their calling 
as protectors intensely. He felt a sense of mission and a 
pride in his profession. If dying was required of him by 
either country or family, he would step up without quiver of 
body or hesitance of spirit. He opened his mouth to ask her 
where she was going with this line of thought, but she 
anticipated.

"Honey, you are not the only Scully hardwired with your 
father's sense of honor and dedication to a cause 
encompassing far more than yourself and family..."

"If you are comparing blind commitment to crazy Fox Mulder 
with my dedication to the Navy..." Bill took definite 
offence.

"Sh. Let me finish." This would be a hard sell, but she 
persisted, "You are Dana's older brother. You can't help but 
see her from that perspective, any more than I can help 
seeing her as my little girl." Maggie held her finger up to 
stave off argument.  "But even though I can't help thinking 
of her (and all of you `children') as the little one I loved 
raising, I have to see her as the woman she became too." She 
held his gaze. "So do you, son."

"Pphfff." Bill sighed deeply. "Mom, I don't bruise my psyche 
when I recollect little girl Dana running through the woods 
with me and Charlie. I don't feel bile rising when I 
remember young and happy Dana going to the prom with -- what 
was his name -- Greg Stephens? And I was just as proud of 
her as you and Dad when she sailed through medical school. 
Lord, she had such potential."

"And you think she threw that potential away when she joined 
the Bureau?"

"That's when she took her *first* wrong turn."

"Are you sure you aren't simply accepting your father's bias 
against her decision as your own? Because I think I was 
guilty of that, and I've since reconsidered my opinion."

Bill ducked his head and then shook it.

"No?" Maggie prodded. "Bill, what is the difference between 
your decision to serve your country in the Navy and Dana's 
to become an FBI agent?  If she had followed Dad and you 
into the Navy, would you have welcomed that decision? Do 
your objections stem from her choosing a different agency of 
the government?  Hmmm?" She stirred the pot more, "You don't 
think that only men can feel a pull to public service, do 
you?"  She arched her eyebrows and paused to let Bill answer 
her rather provocative queries.

His reply came slowly because he really did have to think 
about his reasons. "I suppose I did fear for Dana's safety 
even in the pre X-Files days. Law enforcement at any level 
is dangerous, as we all know. I realize that if she had 
become a Navy doctor, she might also have been at risk; even 
cooks, procurement officers and JAG lawyers can die in 
combat zones...doctors definitely. I'm not sure how I would 
have reacted if that had been her choice. I do know that 
when she originally became an FBI agent she was not assigned 
to field work so she was not on the firing line."  He 
plucked his shirt cuffs farther up his wrists. "Honestly, I 
guess it does come down to my big brother worries and some 
chauvinism. My natural tendency's to think that while I, a 
man, could make it and maybe even thrive in a life that 
demands sacrifices, I didn't want Dana to have to try, and I 
wish she didn't want to."

"That is honest, Bill. But we have to let our loved ones 
follow their own paths." Maggie pursed her lips, "We are 
selfish if we expect someone to deviate from their path just 
to keep us from hurting." She smiled a little sadly.

"Isn't it selfish to pursue reckless danger, too? Dana could 
have transferred out of the X-Files after a year or so 
without rancor or career damage. She was offered a place on 
the Violent Crimes Unit -- isn't that what it is called -- 
during that first year, I remember you told me. Not that I'd 
have wanted her to transfer into that section dealing 
constantly with the scum of the earth. But let's face it, 
she probably would have been safer tracking down serial 
killers with another, normal partner than she was 
investigating presumed paranormal crimes with Mulder..."

"I don't know, Bill. I think some of those serial killer
cases she worked on shook her to the core...really unnerved 
her. That Phaster psycho, oh my God...."

Bill glanced at Maggie, acknowledging her statement. "She 
could have asked for *another* assignment then; the FBI 
would have handed it to her on a silver platter in the early 
days."

"Dana never explicitly explained to me why she clung to the 
X-Files..."

"That son of a bitch, Mulder, that's why!"

"Bill..." 

"For Christ's sake, she ran away with him. She left 
everything else behind to go with him. It doesn't take much 
brain power to..." Bill worked himself into a lather every 
time he thought about his sister's unrepentant priority in 
life: Mulder. And he knew he was nearly shouting now. 
However, he didn't finish his sentence because his usual 
control about what he said to his mother about Dana had 
snapped and he couldn't hold back the damning thought he'd 
kept to himself since Dana disappeared with Mulder. "Damn 
it, maybe William wasn't Mulder's child after all..."

"Bill!"

"No, I have to get this out! Maybe *that's* why Dana 
wouldn't tell a soul who the father was while Mulder was 
missing, in the ground, and then back among the living. She 
didn't tell *you*, her own mother, and from accounts she 
didn't even spell things out for Mulder..."

"I think Fox, once he understood how long he'd been `gone' 
put the pieces together himself. And I think both Dana and 
Fox concluded separately -- and maybe together, I don't know 
-- that they shouldn't reveal the baby's paternity. They 
feared that knowledge in the hands of the wrong people."

Bill refused to be derailed. He hammered his own point, 
"...It sure would explain a lot. Two days after Dana and 
William came home from the hospital, Mulder left and he 
never came back as long as Dana kept William. Yet, just a 
few weeks after Dana put the boy up for adoption, Mulder 
surfaced and took her with him when he escaped military 
justice."

Again his mother jumped in, "Military justice?  There was no 
military justice. The so-called proceedings, FBI not 
military, were a farce, a kangaroo court without legitimate 
authority. I wish I'd been there to give those `judges' a 
piece of my mind. Monica reportedly let them have a great 
piece of hers."

Again, Bill chose to ignore her interjection, "There's no 
indication he -- Mulder -- was angry at Dana for letting 
William go. What father just blithely accepts his only 
child's loss without fury and blame? But if Mulder and Dana 
both knew he was not the father, and Mulder set as a 
condition of their reunion that he not have to raise the 
baby, it makes macabre, sickening sense. Dana was so 
besotted with that sorry bastard that she'd give up the 
child of her own body to strangers to be taken back by him. 
God, it makes me ill, but, there, I've said what I've been 
thinking."   

"NO, Bill." Maggie gripped his arm hard. She could feel him 
trembling and she could see the threat of tears in his eyes. 
"NO." In the stern voice her son would remember from 
childhood moments when she'd demanded his absolute 
attention, she said, "Look at me."  When he did she drove 
home her rejection of his awful theory: "There's no denying 
Dana is an intensely private person. And her partnership 
with Mulder just intensified her penchant for keeping 
secrets, no doubt. It's true that she didn't come out and 
tell me Fox had fathered her child when she was pregnant, 
but I knew he was the father, Bill, and Dana knew I knew."

Rushing in, Bill snapped, "You guessed, you mean. You didn't 
know for sure, because you've admitted before that even Dana 
was confused about how she could have become pregnant. 
Another secret she kept from us, her family, longer than she 
should have -- about her infertility. Mother of God, how 
*that* happened...If she hadn't been allied with Mulder 
she'd never have been abducted..."

"Shhhh! I have the floor. Son, in your profession as a 
soldier you've seen and done things that you've kept from 
Tara and me, haven't you?"

Bill frowned and jerked his eyes away self-consciously and a 
trifle guiltily at this question, "Yyeesss, I suppose, 
but..."

"But nothing," his mother firmly stated. "You admit Dana 
encountered a lot of danger as an agent in the X-Files. She 
didn't tell us half of what she experienced." Maggie paused 
to modulate her own decibal level and injected a bit of a 
chiding tone. "Your own instinct was to keep me in the dark 
when you found out about her being thrown down a stairwell, 
wasn't it? I heard about that later when she came so close 
to dying of her cancer."               

"Dana's dangerous life was taking its toll on you, too, Mom. 
I told her when I went to bring her the change of clothes 
she requested that she had responsibilities to her family. I 
told her to stop neglecting those. Her stiff-necked reply 
left me stunned...and cold."

"She said something to the effect that she fulfilled her 
responsibilities to those she felt bound to, didn't she?" 
Maggie couldn't help feeling a pang of jealousy herself as 
she said this.

"Something like that. She as much as spelled out that we, 
her family, didn't count as much as Mulder and her job!" 
Bill fought the urge to stride around the room again and 
work off some of the adrenaline produced by this stressful 
exchange he'd opened.  

They both fell silent for a moment, allowing the ticking of 
the clock to fill their ears. Maggie's hands fell away from 
Bill and into her lap. She didn't resume packing away stray 
ornaments.  His uniform rustling in the hush, Bill did get 
to his feet then and stood by the bare Christmas tree. He 
fingered pine needles he thought would strip off easily, but 
they resiliently adhered. Bending down to see the base of 
the shapely, on-the-small-side tree, he realized it hadn't 
been chopped down or sawed off; it lived in a container.

"Would you like me to plant this for you in the garden?" he 
questioned, keeping his eyes trained on the tree.

Maggie smiled at him a bit shakily. "That would be kind, 
son.  If we were in San Diego, I suppose it could be done 
right now. But here, I'll have to take a rain check until 
the ground softens." She wondered if he'd heard her. He 
didn't move and seemed in a reverie.  

"Mother, remember Christmas 1998?  Dana showed up hours late 
that morning. She looked like she hadn't slept. Tara asked 
her if she'd been working. Dana got a strange look on her 
face and said no, just visting a couple of shut-ins and then 
a friend. She didn't say so, but whatever she'd been doing 
had Mulder written all over it."

"I asked her too...later in the kitchen when we happened to 
be by ourselves for a couple minutes. Rather than answering 
she asked me furtively and so low I almost couldn't hear her 
if I thought she had a `small life' and was she 
`co-dependent'? She looked four instead of thirty-four. I 
wanted to cuddle her, stroke her hair, and tell her 
everything was all right. Before I could muster word or 
action, she fumbled on,`Do I do everything out of fear, 
Mom?'"  Maggie's voice wavered and her eyes filled recalling 
that memory.  

Bill, still toying with the tree, flicking off leftover 
strands of tinsel, bit his lip, his punishment of it a 
leftover from childhood habit. Gruffly, he said, "Did you 
let her off the hook and tell her she didn't, wasn't, and 
hadn't?"

"I didn't get a chance to answer." The clock ticked 
unchallenged again from a few moments. "But I think *anyone* 
would build a shell against the crushing extremities she 
faced in the X-Files world."

Bill scrubbed his face as though to erase agony. "Oh God, it 
kills me to think of the Dana who gradually disappeared 
after some controlling, freakin' bureaucrat..."

"Section Chief Blevins," Maggie supplied.

"...consigned her to..." he refused to say `the X-Files' 
aloud again. "Before that fateful decision she was an open, 
innocent -- yes, naive too -- girl." Bill shot a glance at 
his mother when he heard her slight chuffing and caught the 
tiny shake of her head. "Okay. Fine. Dana wasn't Snow 
White." He'd heard wisps about Daniel and later that FBI 
instructor, Jack what's-his-name.  "I'm not just referring 
to men anyway" he impatiently insisted.

"I know, son."

"But those relationship misfortunes didn't firebomb Dana's 
optimism. She still pursued a rounded life of friends, 
dates, and family in addition to her career.." Bill rapped 
the coffeetable with his knuckles. "When Mulder got a hold 
of her, that rounded life faded alarmingly rapidly, finally 
dissipating into nothingness. Year upon year, she turned 
more paranoid, more clandestine, more iconoclastic..."

"Bill..." The stark, even cruel nature of her son's 
assessment clawed Maggie. She hurt for him and for what he 
believed. She didn't have to twist her mind to see where he 
was coming from. But she had no intention of letting his 
version of Dana go unchallenged. She would not be denied her 
say...even if Bill postponed it.    

Postpone it he did. The man in the Navy blue uniform shook 
his head fiercely at Maggie's attempt to cut him short. "I 
told Mulder after she agreed to have that useless, tiny 
metal chit reimplanted in her neck that she just didn't want 
to disappoint him. He didn't argue the point. The smug 
bastard didn't *care* that she was destroying her life by 
becoming his disciple. He didn't care that she surrendered 
confidence in her own judgment with humiliating results like 
her being jailed for Contempt of Congress, for Christ's 
sake. He didn't care that she came close to death countless 
times while at his side or running after him..."

"Son," Maggie's brain snagged on the Contempt of Congress 
reference. An untried insight hit her and she had to lay it 
on Bill before it slipped into oblivion under the weight of 
more important issues. "Humiliating to whom? I'm sure Dana 
didn't relish being held for contempt. For that matter, I'm 
sure she could have done without the many disciplinary 
measures her FBI superiors meted out -- some, perhaps most, 
undeserved. But she didn't bludgeon anyone with a martyr's 
attitude. She knew she'd sacrified the early promise in her 
career path, but she willingly accepted the consequences. As 
with everything she did." 

Maggie plunged on, "However, her actions as a federal 
employee  conceivably affected you also, isn't that so?" She 
noted the deep, furrowed frown on Bill's face as he appeared 
to wait for more specificity. "What I mean is -- I'll be as 
blunt as you're being -- do you think you might have been a 
four-striper by now if Dana, Mrs. Spooky, hadn't garnered 
herself such a -- some would say notorious -- reputation in 
the FBI and after? Do you think you've been unfairly tarred 
with her brush even though your Navy service has been 
unblemished?"

Bill coughed and his face reddened through his California 
tan. He walked to the window and looked out into the gray 
afternoon. "Do you think I'm that self-centered, Mother? 
That I resent -- or worse -- the only sister who might still 
be living? Because she overrode her comfort zone and bucked 
authority while I observed regulations to the letter and 
don't have a single reprimand in my service jacket?"

Idly fiddling with her wedding band, Maggie slightly 
shrugged her shoulders. "What do you think?" They fished now 
in a swirling eddy of vulnerability and she didn't want to 
trap him or herself in it, but maybe Bill would hook some 
self truths if she played out line.

"No, Mom. I don't blame Dana's fall at the FBI for my being 
passed over for promotion to captain," Bill bit out. He'd 
resumed gazing out the window, as though he'd latched on 
something totally scintillating beyond the glass pane. He 
thought his mother would say something, but she just waited, 
watching him. Swallowing, he amended, "I won't deny that I 
was disappointed when I wasn't on the promotion list. It 
isn't like I'm too young.  Hell, a few admirals' DOBs 
postdate mine. And Dad made captain in his early forties."

"You competing with your father, Bill?" Maggie didn't let 
that hang there. She quickly added, "That's normal and 
natural, son." Then she tried to reassure him, "You still 
have one more chance -- or is it two -- to be promoted.  
Your career hasn't been dead-ended."

"True, true."

"But?"

Fingering the drapes he suddenly realized had not hung here 
at Christmas, Bill drooped his usually squared shoulders. "I 
suppose a petty part of me suspects that Dana's 
dead-or-alive outlaw status isn't handing me any favors with 
the Navy brass. Mulder killed a man in a military 
installation according to a lot of witnesses, and Dana 
taking off with him did not escape the notice of those on 
the promotion board. I don't kid myself; they think if she 
went off the deep end, what's to stop her brother?"

"Oh, Bill..."

"Wait, there's more." Bill straightened up into his
customary military bearing, stiffening his resolve along 
with his back. "Part of me also fears that my own failures 
are responsible for my being passed over. You said Dana 
asked if you thought she did everything out of fear. My 
perspective's different, but I could pose the same question. 
I've been too dependent on regulations and chain of command, 
Mom. My COs always rate me as a solid officer in my fitness 
reports, but none ever rates me as an exceptional leader. 
I'm a Naval officer who hasn't got the guts to stand up to 
be counted if that entails bucking the system." Bill snorted 
derisively.  

Maggie's large supply of common sense held her in good stead 
now, as she sat motionless and mute, waiting for her eldest 
child to go on.

He did. "God. Dad had faith in his own mettle. He told us 
Scully Navy brats to have courage to do what was right 
whatever the personal cost, and he backed that up by his own 
acts. Hell, so did you, Mom. Dad damned the torpedoes and 
went full speed ahead when he thought it necessary. *He* had 
a few scrapes with his COs over the years. He still made 
captain. Hell, more like he made captain *because* he 
scrapped with them. He wasn't afraid to meet life and accept 
the consequences!" Bill frowned and exhaled heavily. Then 
his eyes lit from within as though he'd just stumbled on 
another revelation. He almost whispered, "Dana lived -- 
please, God, lives -- a lot more like Dad than I have." Bill 
shot a beaten look at his mother and then perused the 
outdoor scenery again.

Maggie rose from the couch and moved to her son. She 
embraced him, leaning against him as she talked. "The first 
time Dana was suspended by the Bureau, she walked up to this 
front door, shoeless no less, and when I opened it she 
cried, `I've made a terrible mistake. Dad would be so 
ashamed of me.'"  

"When...was this?  What was it about?" Bill gently 
extricated himself from his mother's hug. He wanted to see 
her expression. 

"The first time Anasazi entered your sister's vocabulary and 
life. The first time Fox was thought dead." Maggie reached 
out and brushed her thumb along the service ribbons on her 
son's uniform. "Dana confided in me more in those days. At 
first I thought she felt shame because she'd been harshly 
reprimanded by her superiors. Like you, Bill, she has a 
built-in respect for authority..."

"But when push came to shove between her loyalties to the 
Mulder and those to the Bureau, Mulder always won out!  
Dana..."

"That's just it, Bill. She evolved too. When she came and 
poured her heart out to me, she wasn't berating herself 
because she thought she'd let the FBI down. She didn't think 
Dad would have been disappointed because she'd been 
suspended but because she'd valued her professional 
reputation and had been reluctant to put it on the line even 
when her partner's safety was involved. Dana was angry at 
herself because she thought she'd straddled the fence, been 
*too* `by the book', and she thought it had contributed to 
Fox's death."

Bill weighed that disclosure. He'd never heard that story 
before. "So you're saying that was a watershed moment for 
Dana? That she stretched beyond her comfort zone...that she 
saw being an obedient organization person as a Pyrrhic 
victory if that cost lives and swept important issues under 
the rug?"  

Maggie decided the ball still belonged in Bill's court; that 
he had more to say. So, she simply gave him a quizzical 
look.

Bill did draw the conclusion he knew his mother hoped he 
would. He dipped into a Sunday school parable to do so, 
"You're saying that Dana learned to take the narrow path, 
just as Dad did before. Whereas I'm still on the broad one. 
And only the narrow path leads to salvation."

"Uhmmm, I wouldn't put it quite like that, son. But you've
got the drift." She smiled up at him with warmth and 
compassion.

Bill's stubborn side reared again just then. "Mother, 
perhaps you give Dana too much credit. Perhaps she just 
loved Mulder from the day she first met him and *that love* 
drove her motivations more than duty to her superiors, to 
the federal government she served."

Now Maggie studied the glum winter grayness in her front 
yard. She unconsciously clenched and unclenched her jaw, her 
smile fading. But her hand touched Bill's upper arm and she 
caressed his uniform jacket material soothingly. "Honey, I 
don't know. I don't know if her relationship with Fox slowly 
transformed into love, or whether she was in love from the 
beginning and just suppressed it because she didn't think he 
returned those feelings. I'm not even sure they have what 
one would call *traditional love*..."

"Traditional or not, Dana went for it. She got off on 
`Mulder and me against the world'."  Bill caught his lip and 
blew, frustrated. "Tssschhhh. She could have had her choice 
of prime suitors. She was...is... beautiful and brilliant. 
Yet once she was assigned as Mulder's partner, she gradually 
shrank her world down to him, abandoning, as I said already, 
the smorgasboard laid out before her. She claimed she wanted 
a `normal life' but she never took the steps to claim it."  

"She is a human being with Achilles' heels, just like you 
and I are. Just like everyone is. Judging her isn't our job. 
We're her family and we're here to love her."

"*She's* not here to *love*, Mom!" Bill huffed in loud 
indignation. His face furrowed, "God, I hope she's not dead.
I pray to God that she's out there somewhere, well and even 
thriving."

"So do I," whispered Maggie, resting her head against her 
son's shoulder.

"Okay. She is." Bill hoped his benediction would make it so. 
He even grudgingly included Mulder, "They are." After a beat 
he said, "You know, Mulder's temperament and habits suit a 
life as a renegade. He thrives on chaos. Dana needs a home, 
a nest, an ordered place containing her own things. How much 
chance is there that she'll have that?"

"Maybe they do have a permanent home. Or at least a home 
base they return to, Bill. The authorities aren't actively 
searching for them. John Doggett told me that. They are 
presumed dead by the authorities including the FBI, and no 
one is hunting them." Maggie winced. "I suppose if they are 
out there, and they tripped up and were stopped by local 
police or were taped by a surveillance camera somewhere and 
recognized, the feds would..."

"Or if they snatched William back from his adoptive parents. 
Kidnapped him."

"Bill!"  Maggie's mouth set disapprovingly. 

"You think that's preposterous, Mom? You insist Will is 
their biological child, right? Well, living, breathing Dana 
and/or Mulder couldn't claim him through the courts. They 
can't use their real names anymore."  Under his breath he 
groused on, "Hell, they can't even get married as 
themselves. But they didn't make it legal before, so why 
would I think they'd bother now..." 
 
"Must you be so snide...get in these surly digs? Maggie 
sourly inquired, turning back into middle of the room. The 
cold air near the window had chilled her. "Look, Bill, I'm 
convinced Dana and Fox would retrieve William in a minute if 
they thought it was best and safest for him. I don't think 
they would kidnap him however. That makes no sense on so 
many levels, and there *are* always alternatives, even if 
legal action is out of the question."  

"Like what?"

"Private arrangements, I guess. Or...sometimes adoptions 
don't work out. There are probationary periods usually. If 
his adoptive parents had reason to return him," Maggie 
didn't say *if Will scared them by spinning mobiles with his 
mind* but she thought it, "and Dana and Fox learned of it, 
they could go under assumed names and adopt him themselves." 
Bill's dubious mug didn't surprise her; she *was* reaching. 
"All right.  I'm groping."  She threw up her hands.  Then 
she added softly, with certitude, "If, God forbid, their 
life now is dangerous and without stability, I hate to admit 
it but it makes sense not to reclaim him for the time 
being."

Bill crossed his arms over his chest and harrumphed.

Narrowing her eyes, Maggie peppered her son, "Dana loves 
William fiercely and wholly. Seeking to keep him safe, she 
sacrificed her own deepest desire to raise him herself. I 
know it seems incomprehensible and, yes, crazy. I won't say 
I'm fully resigned to the rightness of it -- but then how 
many other people on earth live Dana's life? Maybe Will 
wouldn't be alive right now *at all* if his mother hadn't 
loved him enough to give him up..."

"Oh. So Dana gets a pass to do the unthinkable because she's 
not living in the hum drum world we are? Since she's sharing 
Fox Mulder's world where aliens and massive conspiracies 
proliferate and take on a life of their own, she's entitled 
to willy-nilly break rules of society?" 

"Rules have been broken *around Dana*. Don't forget that. 
Rules of ordinary life. For example, all the other women who 
contracted that nasopharengeal tumor, Dana's cancer, after 
apparently being kidnapped -- abducted -- around the same 
time and by the same villains, died Bill. She alone did not. 
Her cancer has been in remission six years now. I'd say 
that's a miracle, a bending of life's rules."

"Well, I am thankful for whatever saved her, of course. She 
tipped so close to taking that last breath and looked so 
frail and breakable." Bill grimaced. Then his face set. "But 
I don't think that damn re-implanted metal fragment saved 
her. That was just a Mulder mirage."

"Medicine, faith in God, `alien' technology, or all three 
combined," Maggie mused. "We can't know."

"Could be Dana just hit the probablility jackpot. Maybe 
God's universe just randomly taps individuals on the 
shoulder to hand them `good' fortune. Or `bad' fortune. 
Dana's gotten more than her share of the latter, I'd say."

"What...you believe that God plays dice now, Bill? Rejecting
that God has a plan? Or as the atheists would say, `there's 
no fate, no destiny, just random unfolding'?" Maggie 
searched Bill's impassive face, but he wouldn't commit 
himself so she forged on:  "Dana used to proclaim that 
belief. But after everything that's happened, I doubt she 
would anymore....William was a miracle too, after all."

"Unless she was told a lie about being infertile by those 
real or imagined enemies of Mulder's. By the way, I despise 
the word `barren'. Why did Dana use that term? It insinuates 
fault; maybe I'm too reminded of its Biblical usages. 
Anyway..."

Maggie gestured away the idea that Dana had always been able 
to have children, "Dana's a doctor, Bill. She has a 
scientist's orientation. And she is no fool. I don't think 
she was lied to. She had tests done."

"Maybe the tests were faked. She didn't choose *her* own 
doctors so well.  There was that criminal Dr. Scanlon and 
then Dr. Parenti."

"I don't understand the whole uproar about Dr. Parenti. Dana 
and Fox obviously distrusted him, and the papers reported 
his gruesome end and the destruction of his offices so I'm 
glad Dana switched doctors earlier. But Parenti, like the OB 
she saw in the last months of her pregnancy, assured her the 
baby was normal. They were both right, and Dana was right to 
believe that. Will was perfect." Maggie felt tears stinging 
her eyes thinking about her sweet little grandson. His 
absence was so painful. How much more intensely Dana -- and 
Fox -- must long for that little boy. 

Bill marched around the sofa, standing within two feet of 
his mother and silently handed her a handkerchief. He didn't 
wish to wallow in William memories. His own waterworks might 
act up if he did.  

And he wasn't about argue about whether Will was 
perfect...or more than perfect? He'd heard strains of family 
gossip about the infant's alleged extrasensory (or whatever) 
demonstrations even though no one told him outright. Like so 
many things, Dana herself was the Sphinx about it. He wasn't 
about to broach the subject now. It would only upset his 
emotional mother.  

So he zoomed out to a bigger picture. "It all comes down to 
whether Fox Mulder's view of the world -- the one he claims 
to live in and dragged Dana into -- is merely the product of 
delusions or is real. He's supposed to be a genius. 
Sometimes geniuses lose their grip on reality! Like 
Nietzsche."

"Bill..." Maggie tried to interrupt, without success.

"Mother. If Mulder's just a mental case who's windmill 
tilting finally resulted in his committing murder during 
illegal trespass onto a military installation and into 
classified material, then God help Dana. Then she's just a 
high-IQ version of those pathetic women who love 
murderers... in prison or out."    

Anger rolled off Maggie.

Bill had the sense to back off a tad. "Too harsh? You prefer 
Katherine Ross' Etta Place in `Butch Cassidy and the 
Sundance Kid' who ran off with those two because she loved 
the Kid. Dana..."

"Stop, Bill. Just stop." Maggie took a deep breath as she 
meticulously folded the handkerchief into its orginal 
rectangle and handed it back. She fixed her son with steely 
eyes, but she didn't reproach him further. Instead she 
rapped out steadily, "Dana and Fox are bonded for life. 
Something has melded the minds, souls, and bodies of those 
two into a profound (but by no means comfy and free) 
partnership, marriage. I'm sure of that.  

"The first time I met Fox while Dana was missing in `94, I 
sensed  those profound feelings in him for her. A few weeks 
later when he visited her after she woke from her coma, the 
connection between them crackled. Melissa and I were seated 
at opposite sides of the hospital room. We transmitted 
knowing looks that whizzed by them unnoticed because they 
were so wrapped up in each other."

Bill didn't want to hear this. He cleared his throat hoping 
to shunt his mother off this subject.

"I know you wish it weren't so. I won't lie. There are 
times, I wish the same thing..."

"You do?" Bill's eyes betrayed a glint of astonishment.

"Why wouldn't I?"

Her son shrugged.  "I thought..."

"That I have a hidden yearning to see my baby girl spend her 
life as a warrior? I've no illusions that Dana and Fox are 
going to settle down and take quiet, scholarly jobs, live in 
a suburb, and be soccer Mom and basketball Dad to Will and 
other young `uns. No. They're comrades in arms in their 
shared quest against God-knows-what. They are determined to 
fight that perfidy."  

Bill opened his mouth, to argue but Maggie anticipated, 
waggled her finger at him and warned him off, "Paranoia 
doesn't apply *if* there is really a threat." She would 
return to that, she told him with her eyes but for now she 
had something else to get out...  

"Yes, Bill. I've wished another, easier course for Dana. And 
Fox too.  I'll bet both Dana and Fox wished it desperately 
too at times. Nothing comes easily to those two. I catch 
myself wondering occasionally whether Dana has ever told Fox 
outright that she loves him, is in love with him. Same with 
Fox. Their mission has stunted their ability to carry on a 
sane, even half-normal personal life. Yet, I can't shake the 
intuition there is something inevitable and necessary about 
their unbreakable alliance. Others, I believe, think so 
too."  

Bill looked uncomfortable but kept quiet. He shot his mother 
an inquisitive look though when a sly smile crept onto her 
face. Her eyes slanted right, suggesting a memory accessed. 
Then she asked him to remember back to the day in Dana's 
hospital room when her doctor told her the cancer had gone 
into remission. "Okay," he assented uncertainly.

"Remember Walter Skinner entering while we were gathered 
around her bed?"

"Mmm.  Yes, now that you mention it.  Why?"

"Mr. Skinner and I talked a bit later...out in the hall. It 
was funny because he left me the distinct impression he 
thought Dana and Fox were lovers" -- Maggie saw Bill flinch 
at the `l' word -- "back then." She paused and gave a small, 
dry chuckle. "He didn't say so outright, naturally, but he 
fumbled around about how attentive and caring Dana had been 
when `Agent Mulder's' mother had a heart attack and wasn't 
expected to live. I probably looked blank because he 
appeared flustered. Then he said Fox had told him the news 
about the remission `was the best news Agent Mulder could 
have heard, Mrs. Scully.'" She paused again. "Even though 
Mr. Skinner jumped the gun about the lovers part; he plainly 
saw the commitment, respect, and, yes, love, that had 
already irrevocably rooted itself.  And I think he knew Dana 
and Fox needed that bond to face their enemies."

Bill crossed his arms again, looking down at his feet. The 
direction his mother was headed in put dread in his heart.   

"Ah, Bill. You're right, you know. If Dana followed Fox 
Mulder in a crusade all smoke and mirrors, lies and blind 
alleys then both have mistakenly squandered their 
reputations, their careers, their freedom, their homes, 
their family ties, and their child."

Bill nodded sharply, still studying the carpet pattern under 
his polished shoes.  
    
"If, however, it isn't a wild goose chase, then who is 
living life with under false pretenses, hmmm? Scoffing at 
Fox's preoccupation with aliens and paranormal cases fits us 
in with the vast majority of folks living today. But it 
doesn't mean it's right, *per se*. I live in this house 
comfortably. You and your family live a reasonably 
prosperous and safe life on the other side of the continent. 
If human beings are the only superior life on planet earth 
or in our solar system, then we're right to cast aside any 
consideration of alien threats and live our lives. Then we 
*should* focus only on immediate threats like fellow *homo 
sapiens sapiens* who commit terrorist and other sadistic 
acts." Maggie looked at her son closely.

"What?"  Bill jerked his head up and locked with her 
steadfast gaze. "Are you trying to tell me that you've 
concluded aliens *are among us*? You think Mulder and Dana 
have sacrificed basically everything for a cause that exists 
but is denied by the rest of us blind people? Mom!" He 
stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and flashed her a 
flummoxed look of incredulity. "I work for the military, 
Mom, and I've *never* heard any credible proof of aliens 
existing let alone planning to conquer us. Don't you think 
if little green aliens..."

"Gray." Maggie quipped. She couldn't help it.  

Bill set his jaw and shot air through his teeth. "...were 
coming to wipe us out and our government knew about it, the 
armed forces would be busily planning and training to foil 
the nasty little invaders?" He snorted. "Did that SOB Mulder 
tell you something specific? Did Dana? Good Lord, Mom, I 
hope you're not losing sleep over little gray men landing in 
your back yard!" He paced rapidly through the middle of the 
room again.

"Honey, calm down. Don't burst a blood vessel." Maggie 
coaxed Bill to stand still in front of her. "You know that 
Dana kept her own counsel about most of what she saw on the 
X-Files. She never gave a lot of details even in her rare 
talkative moods. But your fact-worshipping sister did say 
that she'd seen many things she could not explain. And she 
did tell me that she did not trust the government, at least 
not some corners of it."

"It's all a big hoax, and she and her *lover* have been 
hoodwinked bigtime."

"Mmm. I don't think so, Bill. I've turned over every 
recollection, every conversation, every hint from those 
years. Everything Dana said...or deliberately didn't say."      

Bill chewed the inside of his cheek, shaking his head in 
disbelief.  He absently drummed his fingers on the back of 
the chair at his side.  

Maggie said, "Perhaps our armed forces have a role.  Perhaps 
some officers and enlisted work on highly classified 
projects aimed at alien threats. Could be what Area 51 is 
all about, couldn't it?"  Bill cast her a typical 
scepticalScully look, but she ignored it and continued, "No 
offense, son, but as a line officer often serving at sea as 
an XO maybe you have no `need to know'.  Doesn't mean the 
Navy isn't fully involved in whatever alien projects might 
exist." Realizing she'd dealt a blow to his ego with the "no 
need to know", she hastily changed the subject, "And, Bill, 
maybe one hand doesn't know what the other does. What if 
sections of our military -- our government as a whole too -- 
have goals to resist otherworldly invaders while other 
departments or cells follow a `strategy' of appeasement, ala 
Chamberlain *vis-a-vis* Hitler."

"It's all wild speculation.  Where's the proof?"

"Proof may be what Fox tapped when he was arrested on that 
military base. That would explain the panic'd rush to 
judgment against him."

"Mom..."

"Listen, Bill, please. All I'm saying is that I'm giving Fox 
and Dana the benefit of the doubt. I don't -- I won't -- 
believe that their disappearance..."

"Maybe their *deaths*." Bill soberly intoned.  

Maggie curtly acknowledged, "If we must say so." She took a 
moment to gather her wits. When she spoke again, she took 
another approach, "Remember the movie, `Gladiator', starring 
Russell Crowe?"

"Maximus, the celluloid hero so many women swooned over?  
Sure, Mom. I don't know a single guy who didn't feel like 
shriveling up after being dragged to that by their wives or 
girlfriends. What does..."

"He was chosen by the momentous events of his day as Rome's 
deliverer. He suffered loss of family, home, freedom, etc. 
as Destiny (I prefer `God') brought him into contact with 
the part he'd been chosen to play." Her voice fading as she 
uttered `to play', Maggie reached out to Bill and lightly 
ran her forefinger over one, then another, of the shiny gold 
buttons on his uniform. She held his gaze.

Releasing his breath heavily, Commander Scully gently caught 
Maggie's hand and held it tenderly. "And Fox Mulder and Dana 
Scully are modern day Gladiators, Mother? Their quest is as 
destined and scrupulous and pristine as that of Maximus? 
They are playing the parts they must to help deliver the 
world from an horrific fate just as Crowe's character did? 
And just as the masses back in second century A.D. Rome 
lived relatively carefree but ignorant existences while 
powers struggled, so most of us live now while a few fight 
the real war for our future?" He too spoke in low tones, 
surprising himself because suddenly this viewpoint didn't 
sound half as specious and nutty as it had just minutes 
before. His mother clasped his hand, clearly sensing his 
breakthrough. Bill favored her with a small smile; his 
capitulation was not complete: "That brave, unbowed Maximus 
is as real -- or should I say *as fictional* -- as Luke 
Skywalker or Don Quixote. And in real Roman history, the 
Republic did not reconsitute. The emperors reigned on."

Maggie was prepared: "Real, flawed people accomplish 
incredible things too, Bill. Joan of Arc, George Washington, 
Hannibal, Lech Walesa, Neil Armstrong, Madame Curie, 
Leonardo DaVinci, Admiral Nelson..."

"Fox Mulder is no Admiral Nelson. And I sure as hell hope 
Dana is no Joan of Arc! The smoking Anasazi ruins better not 
be her funeral pyre. I don't care if they are spearheading 
an authentic crusade." rumbled Bill. Seeing Maggie's 
crestfallen but also imploring expression, he dropped his 
eyes and reached down to the coffee table to pluck up the 
delicate Seraphim ornament, not yet enclosed in its box. He 
plopped it gently into his mother's hands. "Maximus the 
gladiator declared, `Death smiles on us all.  All we can do 
is smile back.' Well, death can wait. The angels can wait. 
Melissa and Dad left us too soon, and, as you said, we know 
their fate for certain. But Dana..."  His voice broke.

Maggie's heart bled for her son, suddenly forlorn and 
defenseless. In her mind's eye, she played a memory snippet 
of Christmas 1969. Dana stood in front of their tall tree 
with the glass angel they'd bought only hours before. She 
apparently had a high branch selected for her treasure, but 
it was out of reach and there was no stepladder or 
easily-moved chair at her disposal. Her daughter's desire so 
plainly written, Maggie made to go to her and help. But 
before she took a step, Bill ran in and bird-dogged right to 
his sister's side. "Hey, kid, what'cha doing?" "I want to 
put this up there." Dana pointed at the precise spot. Bill 
clamped his lower lip in his teeth (he sported a couple 
gaps) and sucked in, generating a sound that grated on 
Maggie (it still did). He seemed to be pondering the 
suitability of the branch Dana'd chosen. His little sister 
looked up at him and tried to imitate his hissing sound, 
with mixed and -- thankfully to Maggie -- very muted 
results. Finishing his appraisel of the bare limb Dana 
wanted to decorate, he released his abused lip, and threw a 
lofty grin at the height-challenged five-year-old next to 
him. Quick as a wink he stepped behind her, gripped her 
around the waist, and hoisted her up. Speedily over her own 
surprise at how she'd gained the requisite two feet, Dana 
nimbly looped the angel into the selected niche. When her 
feet met the floor again, she turned a delighted grin on her 
brother. "Thanks, Billy.  You're a great elevator." "Aw," 
Bill shrugged and bounded out of the room, never noticing 
his mother or the proud, maternal joy radiating from her.

Back in the present, still toying with the angel, Maggie 
felt a turning point had been reached with Bill today. She 
said, "Come out in the back yard with me? Even if we can't 
plant this tree, we can select a place for it. Then maybe we 
can take a walk; I've been cooped up indoors too long 
today."                 
       
Bill slowly nodded. "Of course." He accepted their rambling 
conversation as academic. He yielded to the reality that 
verifiable facts regarding Dana's current situation eluded 
him; he could hypothesize up the wazoo, but he simply did 
not know whether doom or fortune carried her now. Neither 
did his mother.  

As they bundled up in overcoats, Maggie felt increasingly 
confident the decision she'd just made was the right one. 
When Monica and John had visited her, they had spoken as 
freely as they'd dared only outside after checking for 
occupied parked cars. She would follow that protocol now. It 
was time to tell Bill what little she knew.  He was ready. 
Perhaps it would grant him a spark of renewed hope. Dana 
(and Fox) had not died at Anasazi. And no reports of later 
death or arrest had become known to agents Reyes and 
Doggett. Of this Maggie was certain. She would tell Bill and 
trust that he would not impart any of this knowledge to 
military authorities. She would tell him so he would know 
everything she did. What had happened in the year and a half 
since Anasazi, she had no clue. But at least now, she would 
have no secrets from Bill. Or from Charlie. Now that Bill 
could be told, she would also find a way to pass the same 
information to her younger son, swearing him to secrecy. The 
boys deserved that.  

A weight lifted off Maggie's heart. Three heavier ones 
remained.

As they exited the warm house, Bill simply said. "I miss 
Dana, Mom."

Linking her arm through his, and laying her head momentarily 
against him, Maggie nodded, "I know you do."  

Finis