From: miranda119@juno.com
Date: Wed, 21 Feb 2001 14:05:24 -0500
Subject: Just a Feeling
Source: direct

Title - Just a Feeling
Author - Miranda
Category- V
Spoilers - most recent events
Rating - G
Summary - An emotionally exhausted Scully is thinking about an old
friend.
And an old friend is thinking about Scully.
Disclaimer - these characters don't belong to me.  But I miss them!


Just a Feeling

I am sitting in my kitchen, alone, eating chocolate ice cream and dill
pickles. I'm so exhausted I don't even find the telltale cravings
amusing.  My thoughts are a mile away. 

I am so tired.  I have been tired for so long.  I usually go to bed
immediately when I get home at night, and I do not rise until the last
possible minute in the morning.  I doze off in the office if I am
doing paperwork.  I sleep all weekend.  Yet I am still tired.  But the
fatigue is more in my mind then in my body, despite my condition.  I
can see, for I am a doctor, the clinical signs of depression.  It
doesn't surprise me, yet I do not seek help.  I try to hide it from
the world.  And most of the time I do a pretty good job.  My mother
can tell I am hurting.  And she knows better than to force her care
onto me.  She knows I must battle it alone.  She calls me most every
day, though, with some cheerful word of encouragement or advice.  I
appreciate her motherly love.  Yet I do not respond. 

I guess Doggett suspects my trouble as well, though he says nothing. 
I can sense his eyes reading the pain in my own whenever I dare to
catch his gaze.  I know that he cares a great deal for me, but he
doesn't understand my heart.  He doesn't understand the driving force
that keeps me moving is only to find Mulder.  He doesn't understand,
of course, because he never knew the bond I shared with Mulder.  So I
never share with him my feelings.

Other than that, I am alone.  I guess I prefer the solitude.  But I do
not prefer to be separated from Mulder.  It's strange, how you never
know how wonderful something is until it is gone.  You never
appreciate the true blessings of life when you are enjoying them.  All
I used to think about was how annoying or frustrating or stubborn
Mulder was.  I used to long for him to let the past go, and embrace
the present, embrace me.

But he never did.  Now I understand why.  The Mulder I loved was the
Mulder that didn't give up on anything.  I wouldn't want him to be any
other way.  Why did I never see the tender heart that on so many
occasions was willing to sacrifice himself for me?  His life, his
reputation, his ideals were always second place to my safety and
well-being.  Why didn't I see the rare jewel of friendship that we
shared, that he would be willing to put it all on the line and become
a father because it was something I desired

more than anything?  I ponder now those conversations we had
concerning parenthood, and I know that the thought terrified him more
than anything else.  He was not thrilled with the idea of bringing a
life he would be responsible for into the world, into a world he felt
was so cruel and merciless. 

Yet his answer was yes.  It only took him 4 hours to say yes, because
he knew it would mean everything to me. 

How do I go on without him?  He has been the center of my world for so
long.  I don't even remember what life was like before Mulder was in
it.  I have been in some kind of ethereal bubble since he disappeared
because it was the only way to dull the pain and keep going on for my
miracle baby. 

"Remember there's always the possibility of a miracle."  he had
reminded me when I cried with the tears of disappointment over the
procedure that would unite Mulder with me and create a life.  The
procedure that didn't work. 

"I wish you were here to share in the miracle."  I whisper, hoping
somewhere, somehow, he can hear me. 

* * * * *

"Oh, Scully,"  my mind calls out again.  I do not know how often I
have called to her, because I have no concept of time.  I have no idea
whether

I've been here five days or five years.  All I know is that I call to
her, quite frequently. 

There is nothing to do but think in this place.  At first, all I could
think about was the pain, but quickly my body adjusted and I learned
that the only way to deal with it was to think about other things.  So
I think about Scully. Constantly.  Her face is all I see when I close
my eyes.  I

keep my eyes closed most of the time.  I now realize things I never
even considered when I was with her every day.  I was too busy
searching for my own interests.  I didn't have time to really see the
love I have for Scully.  Of course it's a romantic love, a sexual
love.  I would have to be dead not to feel that.  But I had trained
myself not to give in to that love.  The poor girl had to ask me to
donate my seed so that she might bear our child.  I should have
married her long ago and forsaken this road I was on that only had one
end - where I lie right now.  So much for all I had hoped to
accomplish.  So much for all I should have accomplished instead. 

How I would do things differently if I had the chance.  I can't stand
being away from her now, when she is carrying our child.  I can't
stand not being there to protect her and her baby from the evil that
would seek to take their lives, yet I am powerless.  I can't stand not
being able to see her joy in the life that has come to abide within
her - miraculously, so she supposes.  So she is right! 

I knew the moment I held her shaking body close as she cried that
night of her greatest disappointment, I knew that I must find a way. 
For all the days and years of her life that she had given to my work,
to my interests, to my greatest desires, I owed her nothing less than
to give everything I

was to finding a way for her dream.  So I set out to find a way, and I
found a way.  It was a long shot, it was unorthodox, and it was not
easy,

but I did it.  I know that now our child is growing safely inside the
warmth of it's mother's womb.  And the best thing about it had been
that Scully had no idea.  She knows now, but I ache for the fears and
the nightmares she is probably having about the unknown origins of the
child inside her.  If only she knew there was nothing to fear, except
that the child might inherit his father's genes of insanity and
paranoia! 

"Oh, Scully."  I sigh silently once more.  "I will see you.  I will
see our baby.  It's just a feeling I have.  I couldn't survive another
day unless I held onto that feeling with all my heart." 

The end.