From:             "Jim & Carol Gritton" <jimcaz@dircon.co.uk>
Subject:          New: Revelations 1/1 by Carol Gritton
Date sent:        Thu, 2 Apr 1998 22:51:02 +0100


TITLE: Revelations 1/1

AUTHOR: Carol Gritton

EMAIL ADDRESS: jimcaz@dircon.co.uk

DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully belong to Chris Carter, 1013
Productions and Fox TV.  They are used without permission and no
infringement of copyright is intended.

RATING: G

CLASSIFICATION: S

SPOILERS: Season 5 - "Travellers" and "Emily"

SUMMARY: It's that wedding band again!  Secrets are revealed when
Scully goes to Mulder's apartment after he doesn't show up for work.

KEYWORDS: Mulder/other, Mulder/Scully friendship

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I originally intended to post this yesterday, April
Fools Day.  Unfortunately, real life and family members conspired
against me!  Although the events in the story take place on April
1st, it is not meant as a humorous piece or an April Fools joke!

Comments gratefully received at the above address.

Revelations 1/1
by Carol Gritton (jimcaz@dircon.co.uk)

    Mulder spun the gold band with his fingers, watching it spin and
spin, the momentum diminishing with every turn until it finally
toppled over and clattered onto the table top.  He sat there and
stared at it; the once bright yellow of the gold now dulled through
lack of wear.  He didn't even know why he still kept it.  Mulder
picked up the ring and studied it again, weighed it in the palm of
his hand.  That wasn't true - he kept it as a reminder, along with
the other contents of the envelope that sat beside him on the
cushion, of his one and only stab at living a normal life.  Of being
one half of Mr and Mrs Average.  And like everything else in his
life, it had all gone horribly wrong.
     Mulder looked again at the calendar.  Had it really been eight
years since that awful day? He closed his eyes against the sight that
had greeted him that night, and covered his ears to block out her
imaginary screams, the screams he still heard in his nightmares.  And
when she had finished screaming, she accused him.
     "You let him die."
     Mulder whimpered as the memories came flooding back, starker
than ever.  "It wasn't  my fault," he whispered brokenly.  "It wasn't
my fault."

       It was late when Scully returned to the office.  She'd been in
court that morning, then at Quantico for the afternoon.
     "Where is he?"
     Scully turned to see Skinner's tall frame filling the doorway.
     "Sir?"
     "Agent Mulder.  Where is he?"
     "I'm sorry, Sir, I've been out all..."
     "I know where you've been, Scully.  What I want to know is where
Mulder's been all day."  Skinner's tone was grim and he didn't look
too happy.
     "When we spoke last night, he told me he'd be spending the day
here, reviewing files.  Has something happened to Agent Mulder, Sir?"
     Skinner's posture and facial expression softened.  "No one's
seen him or heard from him all day.  Calls to his cell phone and home
number have gone unanswered."  He studied the young agent.  "Is there
anything you'd like to tell me, Scully?"
     "Sir?"
     "Has Mulder gone off and left you to cover for him?"
     "No, Sir.  I haven't had any contact with Agent Mulder since
last night."  
     Skinner nodded.  He was satisfied that Scully was telling the
truth.  
     "Has anyone been to his apartment?" asked Scully.
     "I sent Roberts and Miller over there, but there was no answer."
     Scully felt the tendrils of fear curling in the pit of her
stomach.  She reached for her coat and purse.
     "Where are you going?" asked Skinner.
     "Mulder's apartment," replied Scully.

     She knocked on the door of number 42.  "Mulder?  It's me.  Are
you in there?"  No reply.  "Mulder, if you're there, please open the
door."  Still no answer.  Scully fished in her pocket and drew out
his keys.  The door wasn't locked.  She opened it and went in,
closing it behind her.  The whole apartment was in darkness.  She
drew her weapon and reached out to switch on the light.
     "No lights, Scully." His voice had a raw, raspy quality to it
that she'd never heard before.
     "Mulder?  Why are you sitting here in the dark?"  Scully
holstered her weapon as she moved into the small living room, his
figure silhouetted in the blackness.  She recalled all the other
times she had found him just sitting in his apartment in total
darkness.  Scully had plenty of reasons to be afraid.
     "You always ask me that, Scully," replied Mulder.
     "And you always give me some smart ass answer."  She could see
the call light flashing on his answering machine.  "Have you been
here all day?"
     "Mostly."
     "What does that mean?"
     "It means I've been here most of the day."
     "Doing what?"
     She saw him shrug his shoulders in the darkness.  "Thinking,
remembering."
     "You're not making any sense, Mulder," sighed Scully.
     "Do I ever, Scully?"  
     She could feel his eyes on her.  "Why didn't you answer
Skinner's calls?  You know he sent Roberts and Miller over here to
check up on you, don't you?"
     "I must have been out when they called."
     "Mulder, don't play games with me.  What the hell is going on?" 
Scully was fast losing her patience.
     Why the hell didn't he just come clean and be done with it?  He
turned his face to the window.  When he spoke, his voice was broken
and barely audible.
     "My son died today."
     
     Scully felt as though all the breath had been sucked from her
body.  Was this Mulder's idea of a joke?  If so, it wasn't very
funny.  He wouldn't be so cruel as to do this to her so soon after
the discovery and subsequent loss of Emily.
     "It's a bit late in the day to be playing April Fools, Mulder,"
Scully said sharply.  
     "This is no April Fool, Scully," he said softly.  "I only wish
it had been."
     Had he been drinking?  Scully moved closer and sampled the air
as inconspicuously as possible.
     "I'm not drunk, if that's what you think."   She reached out to
lay a hand on his brow, testing his temperature.  "I'm not delirious,
I'm not delusional and you know I don't do drugs."
     "Well then, Mulder, what's all this about?" asked Scully softly,
sitting down beside him.  "You said you'd been thinking and
remembering.  Just what is it you've been thinking about?  What made
you shut yourself away in here all day?"
     "I told you, Scully..."  His voice had an edge to it.  He leaned
his head back, closed his eyes and sighed.  "I was married once.  We
had a son.  He died.  Eight years ago today, he died, and it was my
fault."
    
     Scully sat there, speechless.
     "If you want confirmation, it's there in front of you on the
table," said Mulder.  He gestured to the coffee table.  "I'll put the
lamp on so that you can see."  He rose, crossed the room and switched
on the table lamp, then took the armchair across from the couch. 
Scully was now able to see the papers and photographs scattered
haphazardly across the top of the coffee table as well as Mulder's
swollen, red rimmed eyes.
     She reached out and picked up a bundle of official looking
papers and read through them one by one.  A marriage certificate,
detailing the marriage of Fox William Mulder to one Alyssa Catherine
Carpenter.  A birth certificate in respect of one Daniel David
Mulder, born November 20, 1989,  together with a death certificate
for the same child, issued less than six months later.  The shock was
evident in Scully's expression.
     "Oh, Mulder..."
     "Read on, Scully," he said softly.
     She unfolded the last set of papers.  They detailed Mulder's
divorce from Alyssa just weeks before Scully had joined him in the
basement office.  She stared at her partner, the man she thought she
knew.  Snatches of past conversations came back to her.
     "Mulder, you just keep unfolding like a flower."  She'd said
that to him when he'd told her about Phoebe.
     And what had he said to her when they were in Home?  "You don't
know me as well as you think you do."
     He was damn right about that.
     
     Mulder leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.  "You
look as if you could use a coffee, Scully."
     It occurred to her to ask if he had anything stronger after the
shock she'd just had.  Instead she smiled and said, "So do you,
Mulder."
     The corner of his mouth turned up, just a little.  "I'll go put
the kettle on."  
     While he was gone, Scully glanced through the few photographs
that were scattered over the table.  A wedding photo, another of
Mulder standing behind his very pregnant wife, his arms wrapped
around her and his big hands splayed across her belly.  He had the
biggest grin on his face.  The rest were snaps of their baby.  He was
a beautiful child, not at all like Mulder.  Daniel had favoured his
mother.
     Mulder was back with the coffee.  He handed her a mug and said,
"Would you like something in that?  I've got some Scotch around here
somewhere."
     "Do I look that bad, Mulder?"
     He managed a grin this time.  "I've seen you a lot worse."
     "Well, maybe just a drop."
     He went off again, returning a few moments later with the
remains of a bottle of Scotch.  "I think a drop is all you're going
to get, Scully." 

     They sat quietly, drinking their coffee, Mulder now looking
better than when she'd first arrived.
    "Do you feel like talking about it, Mulder?" Scully asked gently.
 "It might only have been brief, but it was a big part of your life. 
You can't bury something like that and pretend it never happened."
     Mulder sighed deeply. "I went into the marriage with such high
hopes, Scully," he said sadly.  
"There was no reason for you not to, I'm sure," she answered.
    "Oh, there was, Scully.  Lyss's parents took an instant dislike
to me.  It was like an omen of things to come."
     "Wait a minute, Mulder - let me get this straight.  Is this
`the' Alyssa Carpenter we're talking about here?" she asked.  "I
didn't recognise her from your wedding photo." If it was the same
woman as Scully thought it was, she ran a successful business, making
jewellery to her own designs, and was a tireless fundraiser for
charity.  Hardly a day went by without her picture appearing in the
society column of the newspaper.  Scully had never once read any
mention of her having been married, let alone the fact that she'd had
a child.  It appeared that she was as adept as Mulder at hiding the
past.
     "One and the same," answered Mulder.  "Only she wasn't well
known when we were together.  We met when I bought one of her pieces
as a birthday gift for my mom."  He leaned forward and picked up the
wedding photo.  "Lyss's parents more or less disowned her when she
told them we were getting married.  My parents didn't even know of
Lyss's existence, let alone that I was married to her."  He waved the
photograph in front of him.  "This is the only picture we had taken
on our wedding day."
     Scully studied again the young, sober suited Mulder and his
bride, then picked up the gold band laying on the table.  It was
scratched and pitted on the outside, and inside there was an
inscription.  `FM - Autre Ne Veux - A. 6/23/88.'
     "What does it mean?"
     "`I wish for no other'.  It's medieval French, and it would be
engraved inside what was called a poesy ring.  Lyss told me that back
in the 15th century, people gave poesy rings as tokens of love or
regard."
    Scully nodded.  "Did the situation with her parents improve when
Daniel was born?" she asked, placing Mulder's wedding band back on
the table.
     Mulder shook his head.  "No.  They weren't interested.  It broke
Lyss's heart.  We thought that their attitude might change once
Daniel was born - the arrival of a grandchild is often the healing
factor in an estrangement, but not in this case.  They remained as
entrenched as ever. They didn't come to see her in hospital after the
birth, they didn't even send a card or flowers."
    Scully couldn't miss the bitterness and disgust in his tone. 
"Why did they take against you, Mulder?"
     He shrugged.  "I have no idea.  They took a dislike to me and
that was that.  There was no need to take it out on Lyss.  They could
still have maintained contact with her.  She tried to talk to them on
numerous occasions, she even took Daniel to their house, but it was
no use.  They closed the door in her face.  Eventually we decided we
had to forget about trying to involve them in Daniel's life and just
get on with it.  We had plenty to keep us occupied - I had my work
and Lyss was trying to get her business off the ground, and of
course, there was Daniel to take care of."
     
     "Mulder, it says here that Daniel died from Sudden Infant
Death."  Scully spoke softly as she read from the death certificate. 
"How could that have been your fault?"
     Mulder sat there, wringing his hands.  "Because he was in my
care that night, Scully.  Lyss left him in my care and he died."  He
took a shuddering breath.  "Lyss had gone out for the evening with
her friend Diane - she's Lyss's business partner.  She hadn't really
been out socially since Daniel's birth and I thought it would do her
good to have a change of scenery.  Besides, I was looking forward to
having my son all to myself for a while.
     We played for a bit, then I bathed him and fed him before
putting him to bed.  I checked him every fifteen minutes.  I'd
brought home some files to work on and during the course of the
evening, I fell asleep.  The next thing I knew it was two hours
later, and time for Daniel's feed.  I made up the formula and took it
through to the bedroom..."
     Mulder covered his face with his hands.  "He was so cold,
Scully... and I knew...  I knew he was dead before I even touched
him.  He looked so peaceful, as if he were sleeping."  Mulder lowered
his hands and took a ragged breath.  "The EMT's were just about to
take him as Lyss arrived home.  She knew, Scully, just as I'd known. 
They let her hold him before they took him away...  I went with him
to the ambulance, but Lyss stayed in the apartment.  When I went back
inside, she was just standing there looking into the empty crib.  I
tried to get her to bed so that she could sleep...  Scully, she
looked at me as if she didn't know me.  She was in deep shock, saying
that she had to wait up for Daniel, that he might need her.  She
honestly thought that he would be coming back.  I had to tell her as
gently as I could that Daniel wouldn't be coming back...  She was
crying and shaking, and then..."  Mulder shuddered.  "She started
screaming... I'll never forget her screams as long as I live."

     "The grief hung over us like a pall.  It was suffocating - not
even Sam's loss had affected me in such a way.  I think the
difference was that Daniel was a part of me.  With Sam, there was
always the hope that I'd see her again, but with Daniel, it was
final.  We'd never see him or hold him again.  Diane and her partner
Jake arranged the funeral.  I don't know how we got through that day.
 There was just the four of us in attendance.  I'd informed Lyss's
parents of Daniel's death, but they couldn't even bring themselves to
contact her when she needed them the most.  Again, there was no
condolence card, no flowers.  Nothing.  Just silence."
     Scully shook her head in silent despair.  "What happened after
the funeral, Mulder?"
     "We couldn't talk to one another, Scully.  I couldn't comfort
her, I didn't know how to.  She'd just sit in the rocking chair,
rocking backwards and forwards, clutching Daniel's crib blanket to
her chest, staring ahead blankly." Mulder shivered.  "That blankness,
Scully - it chilled me to the bone.  It was almost as if she were
catatonic.  Then one day I came home from the supermarket and found
all his clothes and toys piled neatly on the dresser."  Mulder closed
his eyes.  "I can see her Scully... she was sitting there with the
blanket and I tried to take it away from her.  She was crying and
telling me that the blanket was all she had left.  I couldn't
understand why she thought Daniel's loss was any the less greater for
me... why it was so difficult for us to talk about what happened.  I
was suffering just as much as she was - I wanted to scream and cry
and rage as much as she did at the unfairness of it all.
     I tried to tell her that he was my son, too - that I loved him
as much as she did, and that's when she said it, Scully.  She looked
me in the eyes and said, `You let him die.'  Those words cut me like
a knife.  She couldn't have hurt me more if she'd sliced open my
chest and ripped out my heart.  As if saying it once wasn't enough,
she had to repeat it.  Then she stood up, went to the dresser and
started folding and packing Daniel's clothes into a suitcase.  I put
my hands over hers, I tried to stop her, I knew it wasn't the time
and that she'd come to regret her hasty action.  Her voice was
shaking and her hands were agitated beneath mine.  I told her we'd do
it together a few days later, but she wouldn't have it, Scully."

     "Things just went from bad to worse.  We blamed ourselves and we
blamed each other.  Lyss blamed me because I'd been the carer at the
time of Daniel's death - I blamed her because she'd gone out and left
him with me.  We still couldn't talk about it, and on the rare
occasion that we did, we'd end up yelling recriminations at one
another.  It drove us apart, Scully.  Eventually we separated.  I
buried myself in the work and moved in here.  Lyss went into therapy,
and that helped her to come to terms with the fact that what happened
to Daniel could have happened at any time - that it wasn't anyone's
fault.  It was around the same time that she became involved with the
SIDS Foundation.  They had been very helpful and supportive and she
wanted to give something back."
     "What about you, Mulder?  How did you come to terms with it?"
     He picked at the knee of his jeans.  "I don't know as I ever
have, Scully.  I still feel that in some way I was responsible... if
I hadn't fallen asleep over those files he might still be alive
today.  The guilt will always be with me."
     Scully took his hand.  "It wasn't your fault, Mulder.  You have
to know that."  
     "Then why do I feel like I failed them both, Scully?  I couldn't
take proper care of my son, I couldn't comfort Alyssa."  Mulder gave
a bitter laugh.  "Me, the trained psychologist!  So much for all that
expensive education.  When it came down to it, I was found wanting. 
I couldn't even help my own wife."
     "Mulder, you were too close to the problem.  It's easier for
those on the outside looking in to deal with these situations,"
replied Scully.  She squeezed his hand gently.  "I'm sorry things
turned out the way they did, Mulder."
      "Yeah, me too, Scully."  He sighed.  "I think the Fates were
always against us.  The opposition from Lyss's parents, and the fact
that my parents were divorced meant that it was statistically likely
that my own foray into wedded bliss would end in disaster."
     "Was Lyss reconciled with her family?"
    "Eventually, once I was out of the picture.  It still rankles
that they weren't there when she needed them most."
     "Do you ever see her or hear from her, Mulder?"
     "No, other than in the gossip pages."  He reflected for a
moment.  "Her life is so different now. I'm really pleased the way
things have worked out for her, with her business.  And she has her
charity work for the SIDS Foundation.  I don't know that we would
still be together even if Daniel was still alive.  I think she would
have outgrown me eventually...  And I would have hated all the
socialising that came with her elevated status."  Mulder picked at
his jeans again then said quietly, "Maybe things turned out for the
best in the long run."

     Scully accepted a mug of fresh coffee from him.  "So where were
you when Roberts and Miller came calling?" she asked.
     "I went to visit Daniel's grave.  I go twice a year, on his
birthday and on the anniversary of his death.  I take some flowers
and spend a little time in quiet reflection, thinking about what
might have been.  Despite my never mentioning him, he's not
forgotten.  I think of him a lot."
     A silence fell between the partners.  Scully could now more
easily understand Mulder's rapport with children, and the sensitive
way he'd handled Emily.  She could only guess at how difficult that
episode must have been for him in the light of these revelations.  If
she'd known then what she knew now, she would have acted differently;
she wouldn't have pushed him away when he tried to comfort her.
     "You're angry because I didn't tell you," said Mulder quietly. 
He'd mistaken her silent reflection for anger.
     Scully shook her head.  "I'm not angry, Mulder.  Hurt and
disappointed that you didn't share this with me earlier, maybe."
     "I'm sorry, Scully.  It's not that I meant to keep it from
you... it was a painful episode, and it's something that's not easy
to talk about."
     "I can understand that, Mulder.  It was hard enough when I lost
Emily.  Although I hadn't conceived her, carried her or given birth
to her, I still felt a tremendous loss.  It must have been far worse
for you - you were instrumental in Daniel's conception, you watched
him grow in the womb, you saw his birth and early development.  I
think I have some idea of what you must have gone through."
     "No one who hasn't been through it can understand, Scully," said
Mulder softly.
     Silence fell between them as they drank their coffee, then
Scully placed her empty mug on the table.  They had done all their
talking for now.  When the time was right, the subject would come up
again.
     "I should call Skinner and let him know that you're all right."
     Mulder nodded.  He knew that he'd be summoned, yet again, to the
Assistant Director's office first thing in the morning to explain
himself.  While Scully talked to their boss, Mulder cleared away the
dirty mugs.  Then he sat back on the couch and slipped the evidence
of his brief marriage and fatherhood back into its envelope,
lingering over the snaps of Daniel before sealing it and placing it
in the desk drawer, where it would lay until the same time, next
year.

The End
    
     









    

     
     

     


   

