From: Lena Date: Mon, 18 Sep 2000 11:50:40 -0400 Subject: NEW: Views of Light TITLE: Views of Light AUTHOR: Maggie E-MAIL: lmlamk@wm.edu DISTRIBUTION: You really want to? Please ask. SPOILER WARNING: Through Requium RATING: PG CLASSIFICATION: S, MSR SUMMARY: Several views of a light rekindled. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Thank you to Ginger for beta reading and Amy for the encouragement. AUTHOR NOTES: I know it is sappy. I am working on something with less sap, but I need to get this out first. FEEDBACK: Please, this is my first effort. DISCLAIMER: I live in Phoenix. Do you know how hot it is in Phoenix? Hotter than hell. So when my swimming pool freezes in July, you will know Mulder and Scully just became mine. ******** I stroke my Dana's hair as I sit here in her hospital room. She is asleep now, but she deserves her rest. My baby girl, the only one I have left, is a mother now. Her son, her own pride and joy, lies bundled in a bassinet on the far side of the bed. He is beautiful, her son. He is big and strong and healthy. I know Dana worried that he wouldn't be healthy. She fretted and tested and worried. I don't blame her. I worried about all my children before they were born, and none of my fears were as well substantiated as I suspect hers to be. Despite the fact that she has hidden the seriousness of her exploits over the years, I can sense many were awful. She had due cause for her fears. So, she worried. I was almost glad for her worry at times. Ever since Mulder disappeared much the same way my Dana did, so many years ago, she has withdrawn. It was slow. At first, she was just a little quieter. She still walked with a sure step, gave small smiles at jokes, and went to work full of determination that she would find her missing partner. Despite these outward signs I could see her pain. In her eyes you could see her misery. Something desperately important to her was missing. His name was Mulder. The first months she insisted she was fine. That was her constant assurance, her mantra. "I am fine. We will find him soon. This isn't that bad." He had been gone three months when she told me about the baby. "Mom," she told me, "I'm pregnant." "But, I thought..." She shrugged. "That is wonderful, darling. I am so happy for you." She never explained any more than that. No explanation of how this miracle happened. No mention of paternity. Of course, I have my suspicions. A certain partner comes to mind. She never told me outright that their relationship ever changed, but I believe it had. My Dana wouldn't kiss and tell. Especially not to her mother, she knows what I believe about marriage. But, before he left, Dana had been happier. I cannot pinpoint the moment it happened, the change was gradual, but she went from a very morose person into a quietly happy one. I fondly remember a lunch, it was just after this case having to do with cigarettes, I remember because she wanted a table as far from the smoking section as possible, but she chatted that day with more animation than I had seen in her face since her cancer went into remission. No longer was she a woman beaten by the world. It wouldn't have been obvious to everyone, Dana is not an effusive person, but there was a light in her eyes that had been missing. In retrospect, I realize the day she announced her son was more important than I thought at the time. It was, to the day, the length of time she had been missing. It was also the day that rekindled light went out. She withdrew steadily from everyone, worse than ever before. After Emily, she suffered miserably and I know she turned to no one, but I believe she found strength in the nearness of family, of Mulder, and of God. This time, there was no one. Her mother was not what she needed; she needed the man she loved. Even her God was not there this time. I think she has been betrayed one too many times to clearly see a loving God. I have convinced her to hold a baptism, it is scheduled for tomorrow, but it was a grudging concession to me and my faith more than her own. The light in her eyes was out. She became gaunt. Oh she was gaining weight, like she should, but her cheeks hollowed out. I don't think she ever made it to that mother-to-be glow. She went through six partners at work before her maternity leave. When she was in her eighth month I finally begged her to stay with me. She came, but she wasn't really there. She still went out daily, I don't know where, and continued her search, but at the end of the day there was despair in her eyes. She barely spoke. I would go into long-winded discussions of my ladies groups and daily activities. She would stare blankly and make short comments when appropriate. Today, when her son was born, I was intensely relieved to see her eyes light. When he was set in her arms there was a spark. The light didn't last long, but the spark was there for a brief moment. I am so happy to see it isn't snuffed out forever. I sit here, stroking her hair, and I say a prayer. I pray that this small boy is enough to keep her going, enough to give my baby her life back. Enough to give my baby her light back. My mother finally went home for the night. I convinced her to rest so she can pick me up tomorrow and take me home. My beautiful son and me. He is a beautiful boy. I turn over in bed and gaze at his tiny face. He has his father's mouth. The luscious, pouty lip that Mulder used so well to get his way. I would always fall for that puppy-dog face. I wish you were here, Mulder, to see your little boy. I wish you were here now. You will be someday. I have to believe that. I could not drag myself from my bed in the morning if I truly believed there was no chance that you would see your beautiful son. Mom has been worried about me. I know I have been cause for that worry, but I can't help it. Half of my soul was ripped away almost eight months ago. I am so thankful for my baby boy. If not for him, I might not have made it this far. The first couple of months, I was hopeful. I rested for the baby, but every morning I was up, first thing and off. After three months, though, the leads ran out. I kept up my search, but with less vigor. I owe the Gunman for their help. As time rolled on it became harder to spring from bed. I miss Mulder so much it aches. I can feel the emptiness rattling inside me, poking holes in my heart that only one thing will heal, Mulder. I ate because I had to keep my baby boy safe. He was my only connection left when I felt the despair rising. My boy is my miracle. He is a miracle and yet God and I are hardly on speaking terms. Why? Mulder is mine, dammit. You hear that God? Mine, mine, mine. You can't have him until I am done with him. I am glad my cross is with Mulder. He needs a loving God right now, and I am feeling hateful. I want to scream at the skies, 'you can have him after we have raised our son and shared our lives and work.' You can have him then, but not now. I need him now. I need him to teach his son to bat like her taught me. I need him to wrap his arms around me, patch the holes in my heart and make me feel wonderful again. I was wonderful. Mulder and I together were something special, unmatched. Seven years we were together before the walls all fell, but when they did, it was wonderful. He made me feel so loved and so cherished when I finally allowed him to get close to me. I never shared my pain with anyone, but in Oregon that last time I came to him with illness. He wrapped his arms around me and I was safe. He cherished me. That is what Bill never understood. Mulder made me happy because he gave me so much. No matter what Bill claims he owes, Mulder gave more. If I had told my father and brothers to jump off a cliff they would have laughed. Charlie might have looked over the edge, but none of them would trust me enough to jump. Mulder would take a running start. He had that much faith and that much trust in me. All these thoughts of Mulder are becoming oppressive. It is dark now. Skinner is sitting in a chair by my side. He is still unsure around me. I don't blame him over Mulder, but I don't have the strength to comfort him either. He still stays, because I think even he can sense I want the extra protection around my son. "Sir, would you watch the baby for a moment?" "Where are you going?" "Just a quick walk." I need to clear my head. I need to be able to focus on my baby without imbuing him with pain when he wakes again. I should have a while to accomplish this. Skinner nods and I walk into the hall. I am still afraid for my son. I haven't seen Consortium activity in a while, but I still worry too much to leave my son alone even with the nursing staff. I shuffle down the tiled hallway squinting in the fluorescent lights. I have no goal other than something to think about besides my Mulder. As I near the nurse's station I see a man in a suit. He is showing a badge to the nurse. I am about to dismiss him as insufficient distraction when I hear my name. "I am Agent Scully." He turns. "Ma'am, Agent Heath of the Baltimore field office, I need you help. I need you to identify someone." Identify. No. It can't be. I cannot be going to the morgue on my son's birthday to do what this man is suggesting. The room begins to spin as he starts towards the elevators. He holds out a hand to me, steadying my steps. "Agent Scully are you all right?" All right? I don't know. I blink. We are in the elevator. I can't remember the steps taken to get here. My stomach reels. He pushes the button to the second floor. "The morgue isn't on the second floor." "I know." He gives me a strange look. My stomach tightens. We aren't going to the morgue. No morgue. Suddenly, my insides loosen. I can breathe again. A spark of hope ignites within me. Mulder, Mulder, Mulder. Maybe he is fine, maybe he is home. No, I tell myself. Wait. We will see. The doors open and I follow Special Agent whatever down the hall. I hear voices. "I don't care about observation. I fainted because I was dehydrated. I am up now. I have to get out of here, I have to see..." It can't be. Oh My God. My feet speed up of their own accord. I recognize that voice. I know that voice. That voice haunts my dreams. That voice can heal my heart. I throw open the door where the sound is drifting into the hall. There are other people in the room, but I couldn't care less, all I see is his face. All of a sudden I cannot move. My muscles work in slow motion drawing me to the bed. He is speechless, too. Staring. I reach out my hand to cup his cheek, run it over his forehead, touch that delectable lower lip. "Do you know this man?" I think it is the third time he has asked. I look at Mulder. "Do the words 'iced tea' mean anything to you?" I whisper. Please be Mulder. "Oh brother to you too, Scully." My hand continues its trip around his face tracing those beloved features. Slowly, I turn away to face the superfluous people. I can feel the smile growing on my face. I can feel the emptiness filling within me. 'I love you too, Scully.' I am pulsing with light and love and I am sure they can see it in my eyes. "Yes. I know this man. This man is Fox William Mulder." MY Fox Mulder, I add to myself. I turn back to Mulder to see my smile echoed in his face. His hand reaches to make contact with my arm, and the result is instantaneous. I can't hold myself back any longer. I don't care that Mulder may be sick or injured, I thrown myself into his arms. Those strong, loving arms enfold me and I bury my head against his neck. The tears begin to fall. Tears I never cried over his absence. Tears I never could cry because I was empty. Now I am full again. Full to the top and flowing over. 'Fill my cup and let it overflow,' words from a silly childhood Bible song play in my head. Mulder runs his hands over my hair as I start to laugh. I laugh because I can. I laugh because I am full up. 'Oh brother to me too!' He would remember that at a time like this. He would remember when I didn't believe his love. Suddenly, I need to tell him. "I am full again, Mulder." "What?" "I am full. I was empty without you. I am full now. I love you." The last words are so soft. Those words are for Mulder, not our audience. He smiles and leans his head against my forehead. We pause for an extended minute simply with the joy of being together. We collect strength from this embrace. Strength that has been sorely missing in my life. "Where were you?" I am not sure I want to know. "I will tell you later." I look at him, sternly. We are not returning to those times of keeping everything inside. "I need to get things ordered in my head, then you will have the whole story." I smile. Eight months and he can still read my like a book. "Why are you in a hospital gown? Are you sick?" He suddenly sounds worried. I smile again. "No, Mulder." I look at his face. It is drooping with fatigue. No matter how much I am bursting with the news of my baby, our baby, it should wait until he can be awake to hear everything. It can also wait until the audience leaves. "Lie down Mulder. Go to sleep. We will tell everything when you have more rest." "Scully?" He grasps my arms that are falling from around his neck for the first time. "Yes?" He reaches behind his neck and unclasps the cross. He wraps the sides around me and fastens it around my neck. "It kept me safe. I believed Scully. I believed in your faith in me, and I survived. It can go back to protecting you now." I smile as he lays back down, gripping my hand in his. "I believed too Mulder. I never lost faith you would return to me." I was miserable and the despair was there, but I never truly gave up. I never truly could give up. He falls asleep with our fingers twined together. I touch my cross. I am full now and I believe. The people in the room behind me begin to talk. Agent whatever is commenting on the difficulties of locating me. He seems to have a partner who mentions the trip to get here, but I barely hear them. I stare into the face of my love. I have faith again. Thank you God. You are forgiven every bad thing that ever happened to me. I have my son and my love. I may never stop smiling again. When Scully took her time returning to the hospital room, I immediately began to worry. In Mulder's absence I felt responsible for doing all the worrying that Mulder so adeptly did over his partner. I learned mostly that Mulder must be even more diligent than I thought, because Scully does not take worrying well. However, I am getting very good at worrying. After the baby had sat and waited for Scully for a half an hour, I began to get nervous. Scully's son should be waking up shortly and I don't think that I am the person he will be interested in seeing. I debate with myself about what should be done. I won't leave the baby alone. That would be like inviting bad things to happen. So, I can't go off to find Scully alone, but I don't want to pick up the baby and wake him before his time either. The point becomes moot when the baby wakes up and promptly begins to wail. I look at him for a moment before lifting him from his tiny bed by the one his mother should inhabit. We walk out into the hall. Immediately a nurse descends on me. "What are you doing? He should go back to his mother, right now!" "His mother," I say, enunciating carefully enough to sound condescending, "isn't in her room. We were just going to find her." I stalk off before the nurse has a moment to recover and argue the point. We reach the front desk and the blond nurse who has been here all day immediately recognizes me. "Oh, his mother isn't back yet? Someone came looking for her, they went down to the third floor." I don't even answer. I start walking as quickly as I can without jostling the baby too much. What the hell? Who would be looking for Scully? What if? I don't even allow myself to finish the thought. The elevator calms the little boy in my arms, so he isn't quite sounding like a banshee as we walk down the hall towards the commotion at the end. An agent is flashing his badge at a poor flustered nurse. I brush past them to look into the open doorway they are gesticulating towards and there...it can't be. I would swear that I am looking at Scully cuddled up to Mulder's side in his hospital bed. As Mulder returns to sleep Scully extricates herself from his grasp and allows the second agent to tug her from the bedside. I can actually see her spine tightening to fight him tooth and nail to say when she catches sight of me in the doorway. Her son chooses that moment to add his argument in the form of a loud wail. I walk in the door and hand Scully her son. She smiles at me, the one that I saw once when I helped her extract Mulder from the Bermuda triangle. I catch her eyes, and no words are necessary. She sits down to feed the baby as hidden as she can make herself behind Mulder to protect her privacy. An agent I don't recognize enters the room and a flurry of activity ensues as Scully finishes the feeding and calls her mother; she is as close to family as Mulder has to notify. I excuse myself from the bustle and find a nice cup of coffee and a waiting room away from the noise. For the first time in eight months I take a deep breath. I did not get one of my agents killed. I don't know if I will ever be able to forgive myself for breaking up one of the finest partnerships I have ever witnessed the way I did, even if it was only temporary. From the start I have always had a soft spot for Agent Scully, she is a good woman and she worked wonders on Mulder. Unfortunately, she also picked up some of his bad habits, so working with the pair isn't easy, but watching that woman suffer is more than I can bear. With my thoughts finally calmed, I walk back by Scully's room. Somehow I am not surprised that she and the baby are missing. The two of them are impossible to keep in bed when they are both injured. It would be humorous if it wasn't bad for their health. It doesn't take me long to return to Mulder's room. The agents have left. Mulder is lying on his side, asleep, with his arm stretched over the top of the bed. Scully took the open bed space and lay down next to him with the baby cradled on her chest. Mulder looks whole as he rests with minimal wires coming off his prone form. I move the corner of the green blanket for a glance at their son. It is amazing how much he looks like both of them. The most amazing part, though, is his eyes. I never met a baby before that had anything but blue or gray eyes. Not this little one, not Mulder and Scully combo piece would ever dare to be normal. No, he has his father's intense little hazel eyes already. This child will grow into a holy terror; I know it. It serves them right, too. With his eyes shut in slumber, though, he looks angelic. Mulder mumbles something unintelligible in his sleep. Even unconscious their teamwork is amazing. She turns her head and their hand find one another and Scully shifts until once again Mulder is slumbering peacefully. Ever since I heard the news of the baby I have been trying to pinpoint when their relationship got to this point. I am completely at a loss. I know both of them fairly well, as well as anyone can I suppose, and neither of them would have jumped into this kind of complex partnership. Of course, even before it became physical I bet they could have comforted one another in sleep. They always seemed more in tune with each other than any other partnership I have dealt with. Never I have met two people who disagree so much, yet back each other up so heartily. I gave up figuring out when it happened and just decided to be happy for them. If anyone deserves some hope in a normally perilous existence it is those two. I take one more, long look at their sleep tableau and then leave the room. Another thing I know about that partnership. It is exclusive. It is Mulder and Scully against the world and breaking into their bubble is next to impossible. Scully was efficient in his absence, but just as lost as Mulder, years before, in her own way. Scully is oblivious to her surroundings when that man is in pain, and nothing gets Mulder more fidgety than when something is up with Scully. I thought he was going to tackle me for the phone during that strange trip with Cancer Man she took. I will leave them to their privacy which they have worked so hard to protect. Whatever emotions surface when they both awake are not meant to go further than their family unit. I leave them at peace. As contiousness returns I fight it. Where I am now feels peaceful, restful, nothing like the pain and desperation I have faced lately. I fear returning to a place of sorrow and emptiness. But, I rise from the depths anyway. The first thing I notice is small puffs of breath hitting my jaw. Then a warm hand clasped in mine. I inhale the scent of the person next to me. Scully. Even without opening my eyes, I know it is her. A grin breaks across my face. I cannot keep my eyes closed now. I must look at her. My first glance takes in her red hair splayed across the pillow. In the last months before The Time, that missing block of yet undetermined length, Scully and I had been closer than ever. Those months were the best of my life. Scully was happy. She told me so herself. And I got the greatest joy of all, waking up every morning with an armful of Scully. Okay, so it was only some mornings, but they were blissful. I would always wake first and watch the sun slowly add glow to her gorgeous red locks. It is dark in here, still night, but her hair glows dimly. I look over her face rememorizing every curve. Her cheeks are gaunt and there are circles under her eyes. You were worried weren't you Scully. I love her all the more for worrying. My sweep of her sleeping body halts on the green blanket I find lying on her chest. I lift a corner and discover the face of a baby. He is angelic. I am shocked. Is this Scully's? I see a bunch of red hair baby hair covering his tiny head, so he must belong to one of the Scully's. A nephew maybe. I untangle his little hand without waking him and look at the bracelet. D. Scully. It is her's. She got her miracle. I didn't make this feat impossible. As I gaze at his impossibly tiny face, he can't be more than a day or two old with those wrinkles, I realize something. Maybe it was fertility treatments. How long was I gone? Have I been away years and she has married someone else? Whose child? I am insanely jealous. I want all my children to have Dana Scully as a mother. I don't want any other man touching my Scully. She is mine. I love her more than anything in this world does, and no one can love her more than I do. I reach out to run a finger down the baby's tiny nose. I may be jealous of his father, but he is still an angel. He is Scully's. Just like with Emily, I am lost. I cannot help but give my heart to this little creature, because she loves him dearly. Scully stirs. Her eyes flutter open. They find my own in an instant. I cannot help, but smile once again at the joy reflected there. "So the gown was for the baby?" "Oh, yes, Mulder." She smiles down at him. Yup, she loves him all right. "What is his name?" I am not sure I want to know the whole story, but I am compelled to ask. "He is beautiful, Scully." "Well, he doesn't have a first name yet, I am thinking something Biblical, you know, Isaac, maybe." I snicker. "What?" "Isaac's father almost sacrificed him. I don't think he needs that kind of namesake omen hanging over his head." Scully smiles back. "You're right. So what do you think?" I gaze at her. My beautiful Scully. She is asking me? This beautiful child and she is asking me about the name? Maybe she doesn't want to know the father. Maybe there is still a chance for me to play daddy. I think for a moment. "Daniel." "Daniel?" "Daniel. He was thrown to the lions and came out without a scratch. That is the kind of omen you want for a baby. Unless you want to go with Abendago, same omen..." Scully actually giggles. "Daniel. I like that." Daniel Scully. You will be a fine boy. "Daniel William Mulder. The William is for my dad and you, what do you think?" Daniel William Mulder. Mulder. Ohmygod. Mulder. I gape at her. She looks surprised at my shock. I can hear the click as she realizes. "Oh, Mulder he is ours. Didn't you know? He couldn't be anyone else's. I wouldn't want anyone else's. This is our son, yours and mine, created in love." Tears are once again threatening to fall from my eyes. I reach out to the boy, Daniel, my son. His eyes open. I freeze with my hand inches from his face. He reaches out a tiny baby hand and grips my finger. He holds onto me. I feel a burst of love in my heart. My son. Our son. I lean down and kiss the top of his head, never moving my finger from his tiny grip. "I love you, my son. I love you so much Daniel." Scully's eyes shimmer with tears as well as I raise mine again. I lean over and kiss her too. I realize I haven't kissed her since I returned and brush her lips with my own. "I love you too, Mommy." A single tear runs from her eye as she smiles at my comment. "I was so worried. I didn't know how long I had been gone. It could have been years and maybe you had moved on and..." "I couldn't move on Mulder. I need you. Only you." That clinches it. I am the happiest man on Earth. I have a beautiful son, my Daniel, and this radiant, perfect woman needs me. "I need you too Scully. I mean, I have no sense of time. Well, eight months or so I realize now. What about my job? My apartment? What has changed?" I don't even realize these worried until I voice them. Oh no. Everything could be wrong. What if I can't help support my own son? I could be a terrible father. What if? "Mulder. Calm down. A lot has changed. I had to give up your apartment. You lost your salary, but not your job. The X-Files are closed, but you still have a place at the FBI somewhere. I have some of your stuff at my place and some at Skinner's, he was helpful while you were gone, and some in storage." She places a hand on my cheek. "But some things are the same. I still love you. You are still my touchstone and I am so happy you are back. Mom is picking up Daniel and I at noon tomorrow to go to his baptism. If you agree to attend that and are nice to the nurses in the morning, I will convince them to spring you at the same time." I pause. "You know I will show him my beliefs too." It isn't a question. I am stating a fact. I want my son to know his father. "I will respect that, but you have to respect mine too. That includes a baptism. I would love for you to be there." Her face is so serious. I can deny her nothing, although my respect is never too much to ask. "Of course, Scully, I won't pester the nurses. And I will go to the baptism." Her smile brings a glowing light to our still dark room. "Good." She stifles a yawn. Daniel has released my finger as he heads back to slumber. "Go to sleep, Scully. You need your rest." She is still smiling as she closes her eyes. I stroke her forehead and the worry-lines there that I fear are permanent now. Her breathing evens out. I still wonder if I am fit for fatherhood. I have no good models, like Scully for motherhood. But, I will not hit Daniel like my father hit me and I will not desert him. I couldn't leave Scully if I tried. I close my eyes and lean my cheek against her forehead. Despite my worries I fall blissfully asleep with this women by my side. I cannot sit still in the church today. Tara and I are in town just briefly, and Mom insisted I come to the baptism. Tara and Matthew are wandering the church looking at pictures and I am steaming. Bastard. You know who I am talking about. That no-good-son-of-a-bitch that ruined my sister's life. My baby sister Dana was a happy person once. But, that man almost destroyed our family. And then, he disappears. I wished for that so many times. Too bad it didn't fix Dana's problems. No, now she is knocked up and I can guess who the father is, bastard, and she is still unhappy. If anything she is worse. When I found out about the baby, I got a little wound up. Dana got raving mad and we have hardly spoken since. She never admitted the baby is his, but I know it. It has to be. And she has been miserable. This isn't even like the time when that strange little girl that looked like Missy died. This is worse. Dana has been wasting away and Mom has been beside herself. Dana, the family tower of strength, Daddy's little girl, is depressed. She doesn't walk with confidence anymore. She never smiles. Mom obsesses over this 'light in her eyes' thing. I don't get it, but I miss Dana's smile. I almost wish that bastard would come back if it would get Dana back. I could even handle that new Dana that loves a bastard, the one that is often sullen, is late for family stuff, and runs off all the time chasing his ghosts and aliens. I just want Dana to smile again. A door opens at the back of the chapel. I look to the back of the church to see Dana in the doorway. She seems lost in thought. I can't see her from back here, but her shoulders aren't as slumped as they were in the hospital. Maybe the kid will be good for her. I don't mind another Scully in the clan even if it wasn't even conceived in marriage. Dana starts up to the front of the church making a beeline for the priest. Father McCue smiles. Her step sounds sure and strong. Dana smiles at Father McCue. Yes, smiles. I must be grinning like an idiot. The child must have done a world of good. I hear the door open again and I expect Mom and the baby. I stand to move forward next to Tara as the baby's godparents. But Mom isn't holding a baby. I am starting to worry when the door opens again. About these wishes coming true...it really needs to stop. That bastard is back. And he is holding Dana's son. My insides twist as I realize this isn 't going to be a Scully, this will be a Mulder. I turn to comment to Dana, but I stop before the words come. She is grinning. Not the little smile for Father McCue, but a full-fledged grin like I haven't seen in years. Dana is happy. She is practically shining as Mulder approaches cradling their son. He sees me and I can see him deducing why I am here. He glances at me briefly. It is plenty to see that he doesn't appreciate my presence any more than I like his. Then, he looks at Dana. I can recognize that look anywhere. It is the on I give Tara as a board a ship for months at a time. It is the one that screams, "I love you, and don't you dare forget it." Pure, simple, unconditional love glows from his eyes when he looks at Dana. And it makes her smile. So, I will learn to live with the bastard. ******