From Ann.M.Fountain@Rose-Hulman.Edu Sun May 18 22:42:20 1997 Subject: Never Alive (1/1) From: "Ann M. Fountain" -------- Never Alive (1/1) By Ann Fountain Ann.M.Fountain@rose-hulman.edu Rating: PG Summary: Scully has visitors on mother’s day. Feedback, as always, deeply appreciated. There were white roses. The green glass vase stood on her coffee table. Her door had been locked, and neither Mulder nor her mother would buy her so many, they’d be far more likely to buy her a keychain or a month’s worth of insurance for her car. Something practical. Something with no emotional strings that could lead her to believe that there was any closeness in the respective relationships. She had been daddy’s girl. It was easy enough for her as a little girl to idolize her someone who was barely ever there. And when he was home, they played baseball, went hiking, and he read them all a bedtime story, as they sipped at hot milk and huddled as close to Ahab as the couch would permit. Storytime was the only time the no food, no beverages rule was lifted for those under fifteen in the living room. And somehow that made the evenings even more special. In retrospect, her Father only was there for the highlights, making it impossible for her mother to compete. Everyday life never led to honors. Familiarity, as the proverb goes, breeds contempt. Not that her Mother wasn’t the first one she ran to when she scraped a knee or was in trouble, hero worship pretty much excluded Ahab from such mundane tasks, and besides, Mom was a constant. A distant constellation, never hidden by clouds, or masked by daylight, but still inscrutable. The roses couldn’t be from her Mom or Mulder, and no one else had a key. She slipped into the kitchen and retrieved her dish-washing gloves. If anything happened she wanted to have them able to pull prints from the card. It was a mother’s day card, signed simply, "For all those who live because of you." She sighed, it was May 11, 1997, Mother’s Day. Given the fact she was far from having an intimate relationship, let alone one where she would consider having children, she found the card an insult. There were more than twelve roses, but she didn’t bother to count them. Instead she stormed into her bedroom. Another vase of roses waited for her there, except these were black. She picked up the card, her hand shaking, "For all of those never alive." In her last second of rational thought, Dana Scully threw herself onto her bed before succumbing to the welcome oblivion of unconsciousness. ---------------------- She was unsure what had roused her, until the smelling salts were once again passed under her nose. "What was Kurt thinking sending her these? We need to talk to her not shock her into unconsciousness." A droll, surprisingly similar voice responded, "As if the conversation wouldn’t be prone to causing fainting spells." She didn’t want to open her eyes, if she did the roses would still be there, and apparently she would have to know why they were there, with mother’s days cards. "She wouldn’t do that, she just will take a little time to persuade that we are telling the truth." "Great gift, Kurt, ‘Happy mother’s day,’ " the second voice remarked sarcastically, "you are the proud Mother of clones. Don’t worry, they all look your age, so there won’t be any diapers to change." "Mulder should have told her." Scully wanted to scream, but this wasn’t the time. The time would be when she was standing right next to Mulder’s ear, with a bullhorn in hand and earplugs in her own ears. So she sighed, and sat up, "You’ll find Mulder tells me almost nothing." She blinked, not quite certain at first that she was seeing two red-haired men in her room, both of which looked exactly like Kurt Crawford. The one sitting at the foot of her bed shared a look with the one leaning on the doorjamb. "Let me introduce us, we are both called Kurt Crawford." "Must be inconvenient. Are either of you the man I met earlier this year?" Door-Kurt answered, "Unfortunately he was killed in the pursuit of our task." "And what that would be?" Bed-Kurt answered, "To save you." Door-Kurt chimed in, "That is why we are here." Scully had two choices go insane, or laugh, so to be safe she chose hysterical laughter. The Kurts exchanged glances, she wished they would stop that. "You’re going to save me." Laughter stole her breath for a few moments, "Have you been taking lessons from Jeremiah Smith?" They glanced at each other again, "How did you know?" That sobered Scully up. "You’re serious. Just lay your hands on me, and boom, instant health?" "Not quite." "Doesn’t Mulder tell you anything?" "What, Bed-Kurt jerked his thumb at Door-Kurt, "he is trying to say is that we cannot replace the ova they took from you. So if you wish to have children the natural way, you will only have about five years. After which you will probably want to begin hormone therapy." He shrugged, "Early menopause is not totally unheard of, your doctor shouldn’t ask too many questions." Scully’s head was reeling, "Why don’t you guys have different names?" It was an inane question, but probably all she could handle right now. Door-Kurt shook his head, "Just lay back, and count to ten. When you wake all will be better." She grabbed Bed-Kurt’s hand, "Where can I get a hold of you later?" Bed-Kurt shook his head sadly, "You cannot. Be assured we will be watching." He stood and gently pressed her shoulders, forcing her to lay down. "Now sleep, and be well." A burning sensation raced through her, not totally unpleasant. ----------------- She woke to her alarm the next morning, and smiled at the roses at her bedside. Today she would scream. ************************* End Never Alive (1/1) Ann.M.Fountain@rose-hulman.edu