From: Amy Schatz Date: Wed, 28 Apr 1999 18:01:17 -0400 Subject: SUBMISSIONS :) This story came out of discussions on the mailing list, X-Files Romantics. We were discussing how there's very little continuity on the show, and the characters seem to forget huge, life-altering things that have happened to them, and only remember them when it's convenient to the plot. Then I read the article in EW about the two mythology episodes that were yet to be aired, "Two Fathers" and "One Son." This story is the result, and I hope it's at least a little funny. Maybe it'll make you guys chuckle a little. :) DISCLAIMER: You know the drill – they ain't mine. Oh, and that reminds me. Chris Carter, if this story smarts just a bit – it should! Wake up, buddy! THANKS: Thanks to everybody on XFR! The greatest discussions on characters, relationships, motives, and pathos take place there, and the greatest people inhabit it. :-) Also thanks to Melissa Rabey – the best editor there is! :-) CREDIT: I got the title of this from a great song by the best country artist and guitar player there is: Vince Gill. Thanks, Vince, you cutie! :D I guess I should also thank David Duchovny for the quote below – it also had a part in the idea for this story. CLASSIFICATION: SRH. A little MSR – mostly UST. RATING: PG – one tiny bad word in the beginning. SPOILERS: Basically for all seasons including season 6. STORY NOTE: This takes place in the present. Oh, and be on notice that I do NOT like Fowley. SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully learn what kind of world they're REALLY living in. MAIL: Send all comments to: starbuck@csrlink.net ----------------------------------------------------------------- TAKE YOUR MEMORY WITH YOU WHEN YOU GO -- 1/2 by Amy Schatz (starbuck@csrlink.net) "I would like to complicate the situation rather than maintain it in this limbo we're *told* people like. We've been able to go places with the relationship over the years, but we don't build on it. But that's the nature of the show – there's never any accumulation of experience." --David Duchovny, Entertainment Weekly, #470, February 5, 1999 VCS Bullpen FBI Headquarters 9:01 am Mulder sat glumly at his desk amongst at least a dozen other bustling agents. Before him sat their latest shitty case – literally – and he saw no end in sight to them. He was wondering if he wanted to bother and get more coffee when he saw Scully – who was late, and she was never, ever late – walking towards him carrying a big bag. "Good morning, Mulder," she said breezily as she sat down at her desk, which was across from his. "Hi, Scully," he said, his voice soft and sad. Scully nodded towards him, while hefting the large bag onto her desk. Mulder figured that she had things to do, so he forced himself to try and read the case. Another day, another load of crap to investigate – that was his new motto. The smell of smoke caught Mulder's attention and he looked up to find Scully had transformed herself into a chimney. His eyes widened in disbelief and his jaw dropped. He couldn't believe that Scully was sitting there calmly smoking like she did it every day of her life. And he was pretty sure she didn't. "Sc-Sc-Scully?what are you doing?" he whispered harshly, not wanting to attract the attention of the other agents. Scully exhaled and a grey puff of smoke billowed out of her mouth. She leaned back in the chair, and put her feet up, taking another long drag. She exhaled again, making smoke rings, before she spoke. "What's wrong, Mulder?" Mulder was aghast. He was dumbfounded. "You don't smoke!" Scully raised her eyebrow skeptically. "I don't?" Mulder shook his head. "No. I have never before seen you smoking." Still, the eyebrow remained at attention. "You haven't?" Mulder stopped to actually think about it, and he realized he wasn't sure. He looked over at Scully, sitting there smoking like a pro, and he tried to remember if he had ever seen her do it before. Hmmm? "Think hard, Mulder," said Scully, smashing the cigarette onto her desk, effectively putting it out. Mulder's eyes widened again. "Scully!" he hissed, wondering if she was on something. She ignored his admonition, and looked at him expectantly. "Well, Mulder? What's the verdict? Do I smoke?" Mulder had no clue. Maybe she did smoke. She seemed to know how to do it well enough. On the other hand, it just felt WRONG for her to be smoking, but he had no idea why. "You don't know, do you?" she asked. "You can't say one way or the other." Mulder shrugged. "I can't say." Scully nodded the way scientists do, like she was working from a mental checklist. "I see." Mulder shook his head a little, and turned back to the case file. He felt weird. He was interrupted next by the odd combinatory smell of liquor and chocolate sauce. Looking up, he saw Scully swigging down a glass of brandy, holding a spoon poised above a carton of ice cream. He was so shocked he almost fell out of his chair. As it was, he dropped his pen. "Scully, what the hell are you doing? It's nine in the morning! Isn't it a little early for all that?" Scully put the half-empty glass down, and scooped up some ice cream. Her face took on an expression of ecstasy when she put it in her mouth. She swallowed two more spoonfuls before turning to Mulder. "This is so good." She dug her spoon into the carton again, coming up with a big chunk of ice cream. "Do you know?I haven't?had that in years?" As she talked, she shoveled spoonful after spoonful into her mouth. "I was?afraid?I would gain weight." She chuckled, an odd, slightly hysterical chuckle. "I shouldn't have worried." "The brandy?" Mulder was so stunned he could barely put two words together. What had happened to her? "Oh, that. I've always wanted to try it, but never had the guts," she said, setting the spoon aside, and taking another long swallow. "Scully, what is going on with you?" asked Mulder, fearing now, for her mind. Maybe she hit her head? "I have never seen you act this way." "You haven't?" she asked, her eyes looking strange. "Don't start with that again!" said Mulder, his voice rising. Scully sat back in her chair again, reaching for another cigarette. Mulder was on his feet in seconds and snatched the pack away from her. "And if you smoke another cigarette, I'm going to cart you off to the psych ward!" Scully let go of the pack quickly, and put her hands up in a gesture of supplication. "Okay, okay, Mulder. Calm down. Take it easy." Mulder put the pack in his desk drawer, and then pulled his chair close to Scully's, his hands clasped and resting on his knees. "Now, tell me what's going on." Scully looked from one side of the room to the other, and then leaned close to him, as if she had a big secret to tell. Finally, she whispered, "We're not accruing." She had lost her mind. Mulder was quite certain of it now. Something had snapped inside her brain. Looney Toons weren't just cartoons for her anymore. "We're not accruing," he repeated, trying to figure out how he would get her to consent to going to a mental hospital. "Scully, if this is some strange way of getting me to do more of the case reports?or?or your taxes, or something, I think it would be better just to ask me." But Scully was all business. "Mulder, think about it: what are we doing here?" Mulder decided to play along with her, if only to buy time. "We're FBI agents investigating cases." At least HE still was. "What kinds of cases?" "Domestic Terrorism cases." Scully nodded, seemingly taking mental notes. "And what did we do before this?" Mulder thought he knew. "Well, we?" But he trailed off quickly, his mind a blank. "We, um?it was?things?" he trailed off again. He didn't have any idea of what they did before this, if they did indeed do anything. He shook his head, totally bewildered. Scully patted his hand. "Let's try this another way. How many cups of coffee have you had this morning?" "Three." He was proud he at least knew that. "And do you feel the need to?um?relieve yourself?" Mulder thought that was an odd question, but when he stopped to think about it, he realized he didn't. He looked at Scully and shook his head. "No." "Mulder, before I came here this morning I ate a huge breakfast: eggs, bacon, sausage?the works. And now, not even an hour later, I am not full nor am I hungry. Do you see what I'm saying?" Mulder looked deep into her eyes, trying to see the mania there. But her eyes were their normal beautiful blue. Nothing odd or frightening. "No, Scully, I don't see what you're saying." Scully leaned close again, her hand on his arm. "Mulder, we are living in a world with no consequences. No accumulation of experience. What we do now has no bearing on the future. The tragedies of today will be forgotten tomorrow." Mulder leaned back, needing to put some distance between them. Maybe what she had was catching. "Uh-huh, and how did you come to discover this?" If Scully thought he didn't believe her, she wasn't acting like it. "Well, yesterday I got into the elevator and hit the wrong button, and I found myself in the basement. Before I knew it I was at a nondescript door. And I just felt like I had been there before – like I should remember something about it. It seemed ridiculous that I didn't remember it, but I didn't. So I knocked on the door. Nobody answered, so I tried the doorknob and it was open. Inside was a small office, with filing cabinets everywhere. I opened one and looked at one of the cases. There was stuff in there about us, Mulder!" He smirked. "About us? In the basement?" She nodded. "Yes. Apparently, we used to investigate cases called 'X- Files.'" Mulder was about to protest, when something tugged at the corner of his brain. A memory. A feeling. A moment. His forehead crinkled in confusion, and he ran a hand through his spiky hair. Scully noticed his expression. "You see. You feel it, too. Like you're forgetting something." Mulder nodded. "Yes. It's like deja'vu." "Mulder, what I'm telling you is the truth." He crossed his arms, uncomfortable with the Scully role. "If it is true, then why do you remember that from last night?" "I think it only applies to big things: traumas, sudden departures from established behavior?stuff like that. But the consequence thing seems to go for everything, from ice cream to injuries." "Injuries?" asked Mulder, starting to think that maybe Scully wasn't as bonkers as he had thought. Scully smiled slightly. "See, you don't remember. After reading those cases last night, I checked out our personnel files. According to them?um?you were shot in the shoulder about four years ago." Mulder gasped. "I was?! Which one?" Scully pointed to his left shoulder. "That one, I think." "Who shot me?" he asked, too shocked to move. Scully looked away nervously, chewing on her lip. Finally, she turned back to him, and said it all in a rush. "*I* shot you to stop you from killing Krycek." Mulder's eyebrows rocketed into the stratosphere. "You shot me?!" She nodded. "Apparently so." Mulder was getting that weird, slightly nauseous feeling again. "I can't believe you shot me. My partner?my friend. I can't believe it." He shook his head, looking very hurt and lost. Scully suddenly looked annoyed. "What are you pouting about? You don't even remember it!" Mulder looked up at her pitifully. "So?" Scully sighed, frustrated. "Do you even know who Krycek is?" Mulder opened his mouth to answer, then stopped, realizing he didn't. "Um, no." She looked at him like he was a little boy. "Then be quiet." His hazel eyes clouded over and he touched his shoulder gently through his shirt, almost expecting it to hurt. When it didn't, he unbuttoned his shirt a bit, pulled the collar of his undershirt away, and inspected it more carefully. He found no signs of injury. "It doesn't hurt." He pulled both shirts back further so Scully could see. "There's no scar." Scully nodded. "Exactly. No consequence, and no memory." Mulder looked up at Scully, his eyes big and scared. "Scully, how can this be? Did someone erase our memories?" Scully put the ice cream carton and the half-empty bottle of brandy in the trash, and shrugged. "If they did, we'd never know, now would we? Who knows what's happened to us. All I know is that none of it matters. If I got shot today, I guarantee that very soon – maybe not tomorrow – but soon, I'd be acting like it never happened." Mulder nodded, but was quiet. He was pensive. "So, we can do whatever we want, and it has no affect on the future?" "Right," said Scully, standing up and gathering her coat. "Where are you going?" asked Mulder, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of his sails. He wondered if this was how Adam and Eve felt when they suddenly realized they were naked. Scully sighed and looked around the bullpen. It was boring. She couldn't handle another case about manure today. "I'm getting out of here." Mulder stood up quickly. "Scully, what if Kersh-" Scully cut him off. "Mulder, didn't we go through this? It doesn't matter." She walked a few steps, then stopped and looked over her shoulder. "You coming?" Mulder's somber expression broke into a smile, and he was at Scully's side in an instant, his arm around her shoulders. "I've never seen you like this before, Scully. I like it." She looked at him affectionately, and put her arm around his waist. "You sure you haven't seen me like this before?" Mulder chuckled, and they walked out together. All the other agents were staring at them, but they didn't care. After all, it didn't matter anyway. * * * * CONCLUDED IN PART TWO . Respond to Amy Schatz Recommend Take Your Memory With You (starbuck@csrlink.net) When You Go -- 1/2 ------------------------------------ ------------------------------------ Previous: Take Your Memory With You Next: ARCADIA V: ENDNOTES! (1/1) When You Go -- 2/2 R/NC-17? See notes and disclaimers in part one. This is supposed to be funny. :) -------------------------------------- TAKE YOUR MEMORY WITH YOU WHEN YOU GO -- 2/2 by Amy Schatz (starbuck@csrlink.net) Mulder chuckled, and they walked out together. All the other agents were staring at them, but they didn't care. After all, it didn't matter anyway. * * * * The elevator dinged ominously, and as the doors slid open, Mulder suddenly felt like he was an active player in "Phantom of the Opera." He didn't know why, of course. He couldn't even remember if he'd ever seen it. He looked over at Scully, who was annoyingly, frustratingly serene. As if she didn't have a care in the world – well, if she DID, she wouldn't remember it anyway, he guessed. Scully stepped out of the elevator but stopped walking when she noticed that Mulder wasn't following her. She looked back at him sternly. "Mulder, move it." He blinked, awakening from his trance. "What? Oh, I'm coming." "What's wrong with you?" she asked they walked down the dark corridor. "Well, geez, Scully, pardon me if it takes me a little while to adjust to this whole 'we're not accruing' thing." She smiled at him a little. "You'll get used to it, don't worry, and when you do, you'll feel free." Mulder was starting to feel weird again. Scully was creepy like this – believing in everything. If she started to tell him how she now believed in the existence of aliens, he was going to run for an exit. They eventually came to a door with the name DIANA FOWLEY on it. Mulder pointed to the sign, his face confused. "Who's she?" Scully looked at the nameplate blandly, but couldn't stop a surge of hatred from surfacing. "I bet she's a bitch." Mulder chuckled softly. "I didn't ask WHAT, Scully. I asked WHO." Scully shrugged, and tried to quell the hatred she felt for the person behind the nameplate. She knocked quietly on the door, and when no one answered, she tried to open it, but it was locked. Kneeling down next to the door, she pulled a silver key from her pocket. Making sure no one was around – no one WOULD be except for the occasional tumbleweed and gust of wind – she inserted it into the lock. "Scully?where'd you get that?" asked Mulder, his voice suspicious. She didn't look at him. "I stole it. I found out their supervisor's name is Skinner-" "That name sounds familiar," said Mulder, cutting her off. But Scully hadn't heard him. "Doesn't that name sound familiar?" she asked. They looked at each other for long moment, trying to remember. They felt like they really should know that name. Eventually, they sighed, giving up. "Anyway," Scully said, "I went to his office and waited for him to leave for a meeting. Then I snuck in and found this extra key. It was in a Marvin the Martian mug on his desk, and had a piece of tape stuck on it with the words PAIN IN THE ASS on it. So I figured it HAD to have something to do with this Fowley chick." "Maybe he sat on it once," Mulder offered, trying not to laugh. Scully gave him a look and turned back to the door. Soon it swung open with a very dramatic swoosh. Mulder looked from the door to her, admiration in his eyes. "Wow, Scully. Stealing, breaking and entering?this 'no consequences' thing has turned you into a rebel." "And what better time to rebel than when nothing will come of it?" she asked. Standing, she gestured towards the office. "Come on, Mulder. Let's find out who we used to be." * * * * Mulder was at Fowley's desk – file folders strewn all around him. Scully was off on the other side of the room with more file folders on the floor. They weren't worried about cleaning anything up – it wouldn't be mentioned tomorrow or ever. It didn't matter. "Scully?" "What?" she asked from her stack of folders. She was sitting on a chair, more case reports balanced on her lap. "It says here that you were kidnapped and almost lobotomized by this guy who thought you were sad." "WHAT?!" Mulder looked over at her sorrowfully. "I'm sorry, Scully." She grabbed all her files and stood up, walking over to him. "Mulder, that never happened. I think even *I* would remember something like that. We both would. Besides, I'd have at least talked to you about it." He shook his head. "No, you wouldn't have." She just stared at him, slightly hurt that he thought she wouldn't confide in him. "You never tell me anything, Scully. We don't talk about what happens to us." Scully was getting irritated now. She began flipping through the files she held. "Well I don't remember you?" she trailed off, still looking. Finally, she found it. "?bringing up a certain HOLE in your head! And I mean that literally!" She shoved the file in his face. Now Mulder was getting mad. He stood up, going toe to toe with her. "Really? That's funny, because we never had a heart to heart about?" He held a file up. "A tattoo that nearly got you roasted?" "Mulder," she warned, her hands on her hips. He held another file up to her. "?or a spore-y root thing that almost infected you?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "'Spore-y root thing'? Well, I wonder WHY I didn't discuss it, when you have all the terminology down so well?" He ignored her, and held up another file. "?or the fat-sucking vampire that you had to go all Chuck Norris on in a bathroom?" "Mulder, stop." He continued on, heedless of her anger. He picked up a file that had been on the desk. "And what about this, Scully? How could you NOT talk to me about your sister being killed?" Scully's eyes went wide, and she looked like she had been sucker- punched. "What?! My sister's dead? My sister's dead," she said softly, looking away. Then, a thought came to her. "I have a sister?" Mulder's face softened a bit. "It must have ripped you apart. How come you couldn't talk to me about it?" Scully whirled to face him, exasperated. "Mulder, I don't even remember it! As far as I'm concerned, it never happened." He looked dubious. "It never happened?" She nodded. "Yeah, just like you don't remember being stuck in a burning boxcar, or being infected with some kind of alien Quaker State oil, or me saving your life in the Arctic." Mulder's whole face changed. He got that "how much is that doggy in the window" look. "You saved my life?" She nodded. "One time out of many, it seems." He stepped closer to her, looking into her eyes. "Oh really?" "Yes, it seems I've hauled your sorry ass out of many potentially fatal situations." Mulder pointed to the files on the desk. "Well, I've been doing some reading, too, and it appears that I've returned the favor more than once. Even though we never talked about it or ever even mentioned it afterwards, I still did it. That's gotta count." "I don't see how it counts when we can't even remember it happened or pretended like it didn't happen." Scully sighed and looked around the room. "Mulder, do you think something's really wrong with us? I mean, we really SHOULD remember all of this stuff. It's not nice stuff. It should bother us – torment us at night. It should make us want to talk to each other about it. So why can't we?" Mulder felt bad for her. She was really upset about this. Truth be told, he was, too. She was right. They shouldn't have forgotten about all of this. It was important – it couldn't just be swept to the wayside and buried forever when something new came along. He sighed. "I don't know, Scully. You said it yourself. We're not accruing. And my guess is that when you can't accrue, you just can't accrue. Best not to dwell on it." Scully's eyebrows went up so far, he thought they disappeared in her hair, and she looked at him like he had grown five heads. She clapped her hand over her mouth in horror. "What?" he asked, confused. "We're doing it already. Forgetting. You just said it. 'Oh, this is too troubling, so let's pretend like it never happened, and we'll never refer to it again.'" Mulder nodded, realizing that what she said was true. "Maybe that's how all of this got started. The first time we didn't talk about something, or pretended it didn't happen, our memory of the event drifted away." "I think you could be right," Scully agreed, looking around the messy room. "Let's just read the rest of these, and make sure we know everything. No matter how horrible they are, it's better to remember them than to pretend. Then we have to talk about it so we don't lose our memories again." "And with memory, I suppose the consequences will return." Scully put her hand on Mulder's shoulder. "Well, that's real life, Mulder. Real people have memories and consequences, and time for them is linear. You know, I was wrong. Not accruing isn't freeing, it's just not realistic. So even if it means giving up ice cream, I think I'd like to be a real person." "Me, too." Mulder smiled down at her, and before he knew what he was doing, he had given her a little kiss. Scully smiled back at him. "You know, there's a consequence to that action." Mulder leered at her innocently, but there was attraction and affection behind it. "God, I hope so." * * * * It was a cool night, but clear, and all the stars were out. They sat on their bench along the Potomac. They had remembered it when Scully had found the case file on Flukeman. And even though it was in the report, Mulder still refused to believe he had ever jumped into sewer water. They had read every case, and knew everything now. But now, they weren't so sure if they wanted to know. It was pretty awful stuff: mutants, aliens, death, destruction, lies, and conspiracies. But at least they remembered all of it. They were real people now, and they had to start acting like it. Mulder and Scully were slumped down in the bench leaning against each other, their faces somber. They looked like two dolls that some child had forsaken in favor of a new teddy bear. They took a deep breath in tandem, and exhaled in tandem. "I'm totally depressed now," said Mulder, his voice broken and defeated. "YOU'RE depressed?" asked Scully, rubbing her nose like a little girl. "I think, Mulder, that if you tally up our points, I'm the clear winner here. You weren't abducted for three months and experimented on." Mulder got pouty. "You didn't have to spend a whole day hearing about how my father let a man go free who had a big spider inside him. I mean, I'd rather spend some quality time with Spender. AND you didn't have to spend god knows how much time with?" He trailed off, his face contorting in disgust. "?with?that?horrid, whiny, makes-me-a-skeptic, Diana Fowley person." Scully conceded him that. That WAS the ultimate bad memory. Mulder sighed. "Memories suck." Scully turned to look at him. "Maybe they wouldn't if we actually dealt with them like normal humans, and didn't repress everything right down to what we had for lunch." "What DID we have for lunch?" he asked, totally serious. She shrugged. "Well, if we can't remember it, it must have been bad." They were silent again, their thoughts and memories too loud. After a while, Scully, said, "You know what, though, Mulder?" "What?" "I'm glad we got our memories back." "For god's sakes, why, Scully?" he asked, his eyes wide and filled with the horrors of their life. She ducked her head shyly. "Because, now I remember meeting you. And all the other good things, like eating at greasy diners together, and fighting about what old movie to watch when we have to stay at those awful motels you pick, and all the cases we solved because we make such a good team. I'd gladly have ALL the bad memories as long as I can have those good ones, too." Mulder appeared to melt right in front of her, and his eyes got all warm. "Me, too, Scully. Me, too." Mulder turned to her, as well, and took her hands. "Scully, let's make a pact right now to try and remember everything, and not pretend like it never happened. And when something bad happens, we have to talk about it like real people do. Okay? And that way, we get to keep the good memories, too." "Okay," she said softly. "No more self-inflicted amnesia." Mulder smiled and pulled her close to him. At first she was a little stiff, but soon she relaxed and snuggled into him. They sat in comfortable silence for many minutes, just watching the stars twinkle and the moon cross the sky. After a while, Scully spoke softly. "Mulder, do you think there's anything we forgot? Anything we still don't remember?" He shook his head. "I don't think so. What else could there be?" Just then they heard someone call out their names. A moment later a small man in a leather jacket stood before them. He had on gloves with the fingertips cut off, round glasses, and a beat-up looking fedora. "Hey guys, what are you doing here?" asked Frohike. Mulder and Scully didn't answer. They just stared at him. "You're lucky I saw you two. You want to join the boys and me for some cheese steaks?" Mulder and Scully continued to stare, racking their brains. Mulder was getting that weird feeling again. Finally, Frohike couldn't take it any longer. They were creeping him out. "Guys, what's with you two?" They turned to look at each other, then looked back at the small, impish man before them. Their faces were completely blank and guileless. "What?" asked Frohike, exasperated. Mulder and Scully spoke in unison. "Do we know you?" THE END!