The Priceby Sheryl Martin
She sat quietly on the sofa, the afghan wrapped around her as the flickering images of the television set illuminated the dark room. Reaching for the half-full mug, she raised it to her lips and automatically took a sip of the lukewarm tea; grimacing slightly at the bitterness.
Dana Scully was feeling alone. And very, very sorry for herself.
A long time ago she had made a conscious decision to do this at least once a month; to put everything aside and just wallow in whatever had upset her for that short time. Maybe it was a wise move, maybe not. But she did know that once she got it out of her system; finished the crying and the sobbing and the cursing she could go back and face the world with a clean slate.
Until the next time.
And it had been a very rough month. Nothing stranger than usual; nothing more creepy or eerie than they had seen before; but she felt so empty and helpless for some reason that the scheduled depression had been so nice to fall into. And so hard to think about getting out of.
Letting a deep sigh escape, she looked around and tried to sort out the feelings; the guilty thoughts racing through her mind. And the first question, the usual question, the only question came back again.
Was it worth it?
Was it worth it to sacrifice her job, her career for this? Oh, she knew that thanks to the X-Files she'd never get much higher in the Bureau. While there wasn't any official reprimands on file or anything said to her, she knew that she was persona non grata. Dana only had to look around the cafeteria when she got her tea for confirmation. The bowed heads; the whispering nearby... The snarky comments when some jerk got a little too loud and she had to put him in his place. Even her students, whenever she got called back to Quantico for a class looked at her oddly; as if she carried a particular sign on her forehead saying what she had experienced.
A scarlet X. She giggled for a second. A bloody X carved into her forehead.
Was it worth it to sacrifice her friends? She had never had the best social life - medical school had seen to that. But they had all dropped off, one by one as she got deeper and deeper into her job; the phone messages drifting off her machine into silence. And her dating life... well, that was definitely dead and buried. The last man had been while she had been working on that dammed Jersey Devil case; and she hadn't been able to even talk to him about what she did. When the heaviest conversation in the room is over the deficit; or the newest political scandal, how do you look even slightly interested in it? And how do you explain your indifference to such things; knowing what you knew about your government...
Ah, yes... the files. Lots and lots of files. She couldn't believe she had said that. But it had been so mind numbing to see; much less try to understand. And that one file with her name on it - and the tissue sample. She swallowed back the raw burning in her throat.
Was it worth it to sacrifice her family? Oh, god... Melissa. Her father. A frown crossed Dana's face as she pondered this leap of logic. Would her father have died if she hadn't been in the X-Files? Yes... but maybe if she had been in a regular section; working more normal cases she might have spent more time with him... maybe seen the attack coming. Maybe been there more for her mother and for her father. And Missy... Sorry, Dana, that was clearly hooked up with the mysteries you and Mulder had uncovered. The secrets of the past dragged into the light with such a horrible story to tell...
And what had Mulder given up? What price had he paid, Dana Katherine Scully? Not only to lose his sister and carry that burden of not knowing who to trust; who to tell his story to and hope they would believe...
Finding out his father had chosen to give her up. And he had died in Fox's arms; asking forgiveness for the acts of a broken man. And a grieving mother who thought she had lost her son and her husband; just recovering over the supposed return of her lost daughter who had died again. She had seen her son return from the dead; only to become a reminder of the sins her husband had committed...
Oh, the price... the price they both had paid. And the dammed tea was stone-cold now. Getting to her feet, she stumbled towards the kitchen to plug the kettle in again.
The doorbell rang.
"Who is it?"
"It's me, Scully..." His familiar voice made her wince. "I know it's Saturday night, and I thought you might be home... I got the slides back from that new case already."
"Mulder..." She leaned her forehead on the cool wall, trying to collect her thoughts. "I'm... not feeling well..."
"Oh." His voice dropped. "Sorry, Scully... I should have called first..."
She smiled at the implication in his voice. That tone of 'do you have a man up there with you?' tone. That protectiveness again; with the slightest hint of dejection. She pressed the buzzer.
"Get up here and you better have some food with you."
"Chinese. And I promise, no tofu..."
Quickly turning on the lights to meet him at the door, the redhead tried to put on her professional face; the one he saw every day at the office. And she smiled...
Fox looked at the red-eyed woman in front of him and inwardly shuddered. Had he done this to her? Where had that bright, skeptical and sarcastic woman who had marched into his office years ago gone? It was like a dream; those first few cases of butting heads, of knowing that she had been sent to report on him, of the arguments and counter arguments.
But then something had changed. He didn't know when; he didn't know what or how exactly, but Dana Scully had become more than his partner.
She had become his friend.
Holding up the paper bag, he smiled. "And plenty of plum sauce."
"Yum, yum." Leading him into the kitchen, the short woman pulled down two plates from the cupboard. "Don't mind me, I was just resting when you called..."
Resting? Dana Scully resting? His lips twitched upward in a smile. He began to unpack the containers, tossing his suit jacket over the back of one of the kitchen chairs and pulling his tie loose. Perching his elbows on the counter, Mulder watched as she efficiently measured out equal portions of all the boxes on their plates; automatically giving him the leftover shares.
Here he was, thirty four years old having another great Saturday night. Not that he minded being with Scully, but every once in a while his mind wandered over what it would be like, what it could have been like...
"Mulder?" He was shocked out of his reverie by her soft voice.
"Hmm?" Reaching for the plate, he smiled at her.
"Do you ever wonder..." Her eyes stayed fixed on the counter top; on the empty containers. "Do you think it was worth it?" The question came out in a low whisper; one so quiet that if he hadn't been listening he would have never heard it.
"I... like to think so, Scully." Fox put the fork down, staring at her across the counter. "What do you think?"
"I just think sometimes..." Picking up the plate, she shook her head and walked to the couch. "Never mind."
He followed, sitting down beside the woman as she stared at her untouched food. Awkwardly Fox reached for her hand, taking it from where it rested on her knee. Squeezing it lightly, he swallowed noisily.
"Scully..." His lips were too dry to speak. "Are... are you okay?"
"I don't know, Mulder." She still wouldn't look at him. "Tell me how you feel sometimes, when you think of what you gave up... what price you've paid for what we know."
Leaning back on the couch, he put his arm around her shoulder; releasing her hand. Gently he urged her head down onto his arm, still not looking her in the face.
"I remember when I first got to Oxford. I had always been pretty bright; but there..." His eyes grew distant. "There I could really dive into the libraries; the books... the knowledge was all there for me to find out what I wanted to know. Everything but..." He bit his lower lip in memory.
"And when the Bureau recruited me, they knew my past... the fascination with the paranormal; the stories about Sam." He laughed softly. "But they thought I'd forget all that when I got into Violent Crimes and did some real police work... caught some real bad guys. They thought my obsession with the mysteries out there were just something I did in my spare time; like some men with pornography." He felt her soft laugh against his skin, making him smile as well.
"And it was, for a while. Scully, I loved my work for the longest time in VC... the hunting; the profiling... watching them take those bastards away to jail. But I was still hollow inside; still empty somehow." He flexed his fingers back and forth, feeling her gentle breath on his shirt.
"Then I found the X-Files. And I never looked back."
He listened to her lick her lips; stirring restlessly under his gaze. "Mulder..."
"I know what you're going to ask. Was it worth it to give up my career; my friends; my life for this?" His voice dropped. "Some days I say yes, some days I say no..." A deep sigh broke loose. "If you're looking for me to give you the definite answer, I can't. Because I still haven't found it for myself. And until I do, I sure as hell can't tell you what the answer is to your question." Burying his face in his sleeve for a second, he laughed. "Great psychological response, hmm?"
She laughed with him, still hiding in the crook of his arm. "Thanks Mulder."
"But." Fox said quietly, putting his face close to hers. "I do know that we are here for a purpose; that nothing that we have done in the past or present was for nothing. That we are supposed to be right here, right now doing what we are doing."
She opened her eyes, staring into his intently. And for a second she thought she could see right into the soul of this man beside her; this man who had shared so much with her that she couldn't think of ever being without him...
"And that is..." Her whispered question came out.
Those eyes... Fox couldn't think of ever not being able to look into those eyes at least once a day; to see that look and wonder at what was running through her mind... And if she could see what was running through his...
"To sit here, eat Chinese food until we're stuffed, and watch old comedy movies until we throw up from laughing too much."
Sitting up, Dana shook her head. "Alright, but you're doing the dishes."
"But I paid for the food." Fox protested.
"And for the privilege of my company and my television set you'll do the dishes." Her smile washed away all resistance. "Understood?"
"Oh, so now you're charging?" He smirked.
"Only for you, Mulder. Only for you." Picking up her plate, she lifted a forkful of rice. "And you're getting a deal..."
"Don't I know it..."
*********************"In order to live free and happily, you must sacrifice boredom. It is not always an easy sacrifice."Richard Bach - "Illusions"