Title: My Earthbound Angel
Author: Nancy Kelly Nkelly@connectcorp.net
Category: Mulder POV
MSR
Rated: PG
Spoilers: Memento Mori, Redux, Redux 2
Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned any character on the Xfiles, nor have I owned the Xfiles. If I did, I would not have to worry about money. The Xfiles and it's characters belong to none other than Chris Carter, 1013 productions, and FOX. Of course, we all know this by now. And by the way, I am JUST borrowing them for my own enjoyment. So don't even think about suing. I have no money anyways. :-(
Archive anywhere, just as long as you let me know and my name is on it.!!!
Summary: Mulder's thoughts about Dana throughout thier first Christmas together.
* * *
You know, when I was a little boy, a long time before Samantha was taken, my family celebrated Christmas one year. And I don't mean the little traditions that most people celebrate either. I'm talking about the full-fledged, blown way out of proportion kind of Christmas. Now that I think about it, I believe I was seven then and Sam was three or four. Anyways, it was during a time when I believed in Santa Claus, and Mom and Dad made sure that my beliefs in Santa stayed strong.
They would take the two of us to the local mall every year and have us sit on the Santa's lap, each time having a picture taken. I can remember often wondering though, why Santa's looks changed every year, but I never really cared enough to ask my Mom why he always looked like a different person. Hell, I was young back then, for all I knew, Santa was magic and maybe he just got tired of his looks every year and changed his face. I was young and dumb. I remember one of my friends at school telling me that the Santa at the mall wasn't the "real" Santa, but one of his helpers. 'Yea, whatever', I thought, 'What do you know, my parents never lie to me.'
Anyways, we decorated the tree on the night before that Christmas as a family. I don't know why we had celebrated Christmas that year in this fashion, but I know it was the only Christmas in which we did this. We had a traditional family dinner, just the four of us, and then our parents allowed us to open one gift. Not a big one, mind you, a small one. It always had to be a small one....the big ones were for Christmas day. Boy, we would rip through those Christmas presents as if there were no tomorrow. I remember getting a pocket knife, and Sam got a locket in the shape of a heart. 'So this is what celebrating Christmas is,' I had thought to myself, 'This is what everyone at school has been talking about.'
She wore that thing to bed that night.
And before we went to bed, mom read us "The Night Before Christmas" and tucked us in.
Can I tell you for a minute how difficult it is for a seven year old to sleep when he knows that Santa is on his way? Damn, I remember closing my eyes really really tight hoping that if I did it hard enough, my eyes would automatically be stuck closed. No such luck though. I was up all night wondering what I would receive from the magic I still believed, back then, in Christmas.
But that was back then, you see, after that Christmas, we never celebrated it again. Well, I mean, we were given presents of course. But it wasn't like the year when I was seven.
And then Samantha was taken, and all the Christmas's and Easters and the other holiday's normal folks celebrate, were gone and forgotten. Just as I, thier only living child, was.
I remember feeling extremely alone growing up, wondering why I was even around. They never seemed to notice me. And then after that when my Father was murdered, my mother just shut me out all-together. It is as if, she has no son. Even now. She doesn't answer my calls, returns all my letters I send to her, and doesn't even acknowledge my birthday or mothers day. I believe she wishes I never existed.
It is now, that I thank God for Scully. My best friend, my partner, my love, my savior. It has been only recently that she and I finally let our guards down and admitted just how much we loved one another. I won't deny it, at all. I am totally and fully in love with this precious being God has graced my life with.
Of course, I always knew just how special and important she has been in my life. But, you see, I can be a stubborn and rude bastard. In my silence of being in love with her, I could be literally mean to her....ditching her on cases, ignoring her, throwing her rude remarks. I did all of this in an attempt to keep my emotions for her, deep within my belly. I didn't want her to know that a jerk like me was in love with her. I mean, how could she possibly love me? My parents didn't. And all I ever did to her and brought into her life was nothing but pain.
But you see....God slapped me in the face one day. And He slapped me full force, knocking me right off my feet.
My Dana, this precious woman who was in my life for five years, by my side, everyday, became sick. Not the flu, not a cold....but with a word that burns my soul to the very core....CANCER.
God, to this very day, that word terrifies me. Although she is in remission from the brain tumor that threatened to take her life, I still can't shake the memories of the pain she went through during her valiant battle with this horrible disease. The occasional nose bleeds that she gets, makes my heart literally stop. Her routine doctors appointments, prevent me from breathing untill she returns and assures me that the cancer is still gone.
My memory will not erase the guant and pale look that was painted on my beautiful Dana. I can remember her fiery red hair becoming thin and frail, her face had become hollow, her sea of blue eyes tortured with her pain and impending death. Her body so thin, that it was as if she would break in half if someone hugged her too hard. That is a part of my life I will never, ever forget.
As I lay here in Dana's bed, with her in my arms, on Christmas morning I still can't shake this memory. I have this one memory that plays in my mind constantly. A memory that lingers every time I look at her, even healthy.
I had shown up to her hospital room shortly after one of her chemo treatments, and as I entered the room I heard her faint sobs. In my five years with Dana, I have rarely ever seen tears come from this woman's eyes. She is one that insists on being 'fine', insists on being strong and made of steel. However, this very day her barriers, in which she tried so hard to keep up, broke down. Especially when she saw me.
She had said nothing to me that moment, just turned to me and reached for my hand as I came in and sat down beside her bed in the chair I had occupied for hours on end.
"What is it Dana?" I had asked her softly. Gingerly I reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek. 'God,' I thought, 'Don't let her slug me for this.'
"M-Mulder," she had said capturing my other hand, "I don't want to fight anymore."
"Fight what?" I asked near a whisper, "The cancer?"
She nodded, and sniffed, "I'm dying Mulder...why am I fighting?"
I swallowed hard, I couldn't let her give up, "Why are you fighting?" I repeated.
She gave me the patented Scully look then, and I drew in a deep breath. How do I answer that?
I swallowed my pride, and for once, instead of me leaning on her, I needed to be there for her and put my ego and my selfishness behind me. I had to do it for her.
"You are fighting, Dana, because-Gosh Dana, because you are strong, and you are loved....you have a large family that adores you.....you have a smile that, although is sparse, when you show it, lights up the room. You have eyes that swallow anyone who looks into them. You have a passion so overwhelming that it is only possessed by you...."
She was really crying then, and I know I was as well so I, again reached out and tenderly wiped a tear from her eyes, and very quietly whispered, "Who would keep me out of trouble if you weren't around?"
This brought a slight giggle from her, and I softly kissed her hand.
"Mulder, you are insatiable," she said then...she was silent and swallowed, "I feel so sick....it hurts, Mulder."
I nodded, "Will you allow me to stay with you through this one, Dana?" I asked, "Will you give in and just let me take over when the nasuea and pain become too much for you?"
This was a lot to ask of her, I know. But I needed, and she needed, for the walls we held up for so long, to begin tumbling down.
Silently, she nodded. And she let me in.
She spoke two words to me after that. Two words that linger here forever in my heart. As she reached up and gingerly wiped a tear from my eyes she said two words, "I'm sorry."
A month later she went into remission. Two months after that, we became lovers.
And now, as I lay here, at 5:30 in the morning, I am bound and determined to give Dana a Christmas she won't ever forget. Dana has allowed me into her life, and I am going to make this Christmas the beginning of our traditions. Why? Because I remember that Christmas so long ago when I was seven. I want tons more of those, and I want them with Dana. I want to give her the entire world. Hell, if she asked for a star from the heavens, I'd fly on the next shuttle out of here to bring her back one.
Untill then, she must settle with the Christmas day Fox Mulder has to offer her.
Carefully, I unwrap my arms from around Dana's sleeping body and reach blindly for my boxers. After finding them I tiptoe out into the livingroom. The only light coming from the source of our Christmas tree in which we decorated together with her mother, this year.
Speaking of her mother. I've become an official adopted son-in-law of Maggie Scully, much to her son Bill's dismay. Of course I could care less what that jack ass thinks. We have a dinner at her house today at 12 o'clock sharp.
Why does she call that dinner? Isn't that technically lunch? Oh well, not much difference.
I make my way over to Dana's stocking and double check that the chocolates, and the diamond necklace I placed in there late last night, are still there. I then go to my stocking and attempt to steal a peek. The impatient little boy in me still lingers as he always has.
"Just what do you think you are doing??" the stern familiar voice startles me before I get a chance to see.
Oopsy, caught red handed.
I turn around and smile. I know that there is guilt written all over my blushed face.
"Hi sweetheart," I say nonchalantly, "I didn't mean to wake you."
Uh oh, the hands are on the hips. Boy am I in deep trouble.
"I didn't open anything," I say immediatly, "I-ah, just was checking your stocking."
Oh boy, the tiny right foot begins to tap impatiently and the hands are still on her hips, which are covered by my teeshirt. One word......busted.
"My name is not Fox," she states calmly as she points to the stocking I stand next to. I turn to look and sure enough, the one I got caught peeking into, clearly says the word "FOX".
I do the only thing I can do.....I smile a goofy grin. Surely that will make the blow I'm about to receive a little bit softer.
"Fox William Mulder," she says sternly, "You are such a.....such a....ugh, male."
She smiles in disbelief and comes over to me and kisses me on the lips. I may add....the kiss was well returned.
"Hmmm," she says pulling away, her eyes shinning into mine, "I wonder what Santa brought me this year."
I take her hands in mine and kiss them. "Well, you aren't going to know untill you look in your stocking."
She nods, "Well, then we'll just have to look....I heard from a little birdie, that you were a good boy this year too...so you might want to look in your stocking."
We throw each other knowing grins and run to our stockings as if we were little kids again, ready to see what toys we got this year.
We meet on the couch and began riffling through our stash. Dana recieves her chocolates, I receive my little space Alien fountain pin set, and then we bring out our small wrapped packages.
Almost comically, we shake ours in unisom when all we have to do is rip through the paper and find out what lays under it. And finally we do.
I hear Dana gasp as she pulls out her diamond gold necklace that has the diamond in a heart pendant. Tears come to her eyes in disbelief.
"Mulder," she says through her tears, "I-It's beautiful!"
She holds it up, and watches it spark through the light of the Christmas tree.
"Here, let me put it on you," I say in a whisper.
She abides and lifts up her soft hair and allows me to reach over to put it around her neck. Might I say, it fits her perfectly.
She reaches down and grabs the heart and mesmorizes it for a moment. She then looks up and kisses me again. A nice lingering kiss.
She pulls away, "Open yours."
I rip mine open and gasp at the site I see. I have always wanted one, but they were always too expensive.....a Rolex.
"Jesus, Dana" I say, taking the beautiful watch out of it's package.
"Turn it over," she replies, "There is an inscription on the back."
I do as she says, and I read the inscription.
"All my love for you wrapped up in one small package -D" it says in tiny engraved writing.
I smile and kiss her again through shades of tears, "It is gorgeous Dana."
I allow my Dana to put my watch on my right hand and I take a moment to admire it. Isn't this such a beautiful picture? I sure wish I had one. What a precious moment this is for the two people in the world, who, for so long, were totally alone in the world.
Here we are, sitting together, side by side opening gifts. We are totally in love, hand in hand where we belong. I hope it can always be this way. I hope her cancer never returns.
No, I will not think about that now. This is a time when I need to be celebrating with the woman I love. I am celebrating, not only our life together, but the second chance at life she was given.
You know, they say that there are things such as Earthbound Angels, and although they are here for such a short while, they spread such an enormous amount of love to the people in thier lives.
While a large part of me likes to think of Dana as "My Earthbound Angel", the back of my mind tells me no. Because that would mean, she's here for just a little while. I want her forever.
As I watch her kneel at the Christmas tree riffling through the presents that her mother sent for her and I, I find myself pleading with God.
'If Dana's cancer does return,' I swallow, while silently praying, 'If she must be taken from my life....please don't put her through the pain the cancer has put her through before....Lord, you have given me the most precious gift that I, on this day, must thank you for.....and although you rarely hear from a sap like me....I must say my personal thank you....Thank you, God, for my Earthbound Angel.'
End
* * *
So???? What did you think???? Oh, please be nice to me. Feedback sure is welcome, but please, not too many flames.
Do we want a sequel or was it good enough????
Author: Nancy Kelly Nkelly@connectcorp.net
Category: Mulder POV
MSR
Rated: PG
Spoilers: Memento Mori, Redux, Redux 2
Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned any character on the Xfiles, nor have I owned the Xfiles. If I did, I would not have to worry about money. The Xfiles and it's characters belong to none other than Chris Carter, 1013 productions, and FOX. Of course, we all know this by now. And by the way, I am JUST borrowing them for my own enjoyment. So don't even think about suing. I have no money anyways. :-(
Archive anywhere, just as long as you let me know and my name is on it.!!!
Summary: Mulder's thoughts about Dana throughout thier first Christmas together.
* * *
You know, when I was a little boy, a long time before Samantha was taken, my family celebrated Christmas one year. And I don't mean the little traditions that most people celebrate either. I'm talking about the full-fledged, blown way out of proportion kind of Christmas. Now that I think about it, I believe I was seven then and Sam was three or four. Anyways, it was during a time when I believed in Santa Claus, and Mom and Dad made sure that my beliefs in Santa stayed strong.
They would take the two of us to the local mall every year and have us sit on the Santa's lap, each time having a picture taken. I can remember often wondering though, why Santa's looks changed every year, but I never really cared enough to ask my Mom why he always looked like a different person. Hell, I was young back then, for all I knew, Santa was magic and maybe he just got tired of his looks every year and changed his face. I was young and dumb. I remember one of my friends at school telling me that the Santa at the mall wasn't the "real" Santa, but one of his helpers. 'Yea, whatever', I thought, 'What do you know, my parents never lie to me.'
Anyways, we decorated the tree on the night before that Christmas as a family. I don't know why we had celebrated Christmas that year in this fashion, but I know it was the only Christmas in which we did this. We had a traditional family dinner, just the four of us, and then our parents allowed us to open one gift. Not a big one, mind you, a small one. It always had to be a small one....the big ones were for Christmas day. Boy, we would rip through those Christmas presents as if there were no tomorrow. I remember getting a pocket knife, and Sam got a locket in the shape of a heart. 'So this is what celebrating Christmas is,' I had thought to myself, 'This is what everyone at school has been talking about.'
She wore that thing to bed that night.
And before we went to bed, mom read us "The Night Before Christmas" and tucked us in.
Can I tell you for a minute how difficult it is for a seven year old to sleep when he knows that Santa is on his way? Damn, I remember closing my eyes really really tight hoping that if I did it hard enough, my eyes would automatically be stuck closed. No such luck though. I was up all night wondering what I would receive from the magic I still believed, back then, in Christmas.
But that was back then, you see, after that Christmas, we never celebrated it again. Well, I mean, we were given presents of course. But it wasn't like the year when I was seven.
And then Samantha was taken, and all the Christmas's and Easters and the other holiday's normal folks celebrate, were gone and forgotten. Just as I, thier only living child, was.
I remember feeling extremely alone growing up, wondering why I was even around. They never seemed to notice me. And then after that when my Father was murdered, my mother just shut me out all-together. It is as if, she has no son. Even now. She doesn't answer my calls, returns all my letters I send to her, and doesn't even acknowledge my birthday or mothers day. I believe she wishes I never existed.
It is now, that I thank God for Scully. My best friend, my partner, my love, my savior. It has been only recently that she and I finally let our guards down and admitted just how much we loved one another. I won't deny it, at all. I am totally and fully in love with this precious being God has graced my life with.
Of course, I always knew just how special and important she has been in my life. But, you see, I can be a stubborn and rude bastard. In my silence of being in love with her, I could be literally mean to her....ditching her on cases, ignoring her, throwing her rude remarks. I did all of this in an attempt to keep my emotions for her, deep within my belly. I didn't want her to know that a jerk like me was in love with her. I mean, how could she possibly love me? My parents didn't. And all I ever did to her and brought into her life was nothing but pain.
But you see....God slapped me in the face one day. And He slapped me full force, knocking me right off my feet.
My Dana, this precious woman who was in my life for five years, by my side, everyday, became sick. Not the flu, not a cold....but with a word that burns my soul to the very core....CANCER.
God, to this very day, that word terrifies me. Although she is in remission from the brain tumor that threatened to take her life, I still can't shake the memories of the pain she went through during her valiant battle with this horrible disease. The occasional nose bleeds that she gets, makes my heart literally stop. Her routine doctors appointments, prevent me from breathing untill she returns and assures me that the cancer is still gone.
My memory will not erase the guant and pale look that was painted on my beautiful Dana. I can remember her fiery red hair becoming thin and frail, her face had become hollow, her sea of blue eyes tortured with her pain and impending death. Her body so thin, that it was as if she would break in half if someone hugged her too hard. That is a part of my life I will never, ever forget.
As I lay here in Dana's bed, with her in my arms, on Christmas morning I still can't shake this memory. I have this one memory that plays in my mind constantly. A memory that lingers every time I look at her, even healthy.
I had shown up to her hospital room shortly after one of her chemo treatments, and as I entered the room I heard her faint sobs. In my five years with Dana, I have rarely ever seen tears come from this woman's eyes. She is one that insists on being 'fine', insists on being strong and made of steel. However, this very day her barriers, in which she tried so hard to keep up, broke down. Especially when she saw me.
She had said nothing to me that moment, just turned to me and reached for my hand as I came in and sat down beside her bed in the chair I had occupied for hours on end.
"What is it Dana?" I had asked her softly. Gingerly I reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek. 'God,' I thought, 'Don't let her slug me for this.'
"M-Mulder," she had said capturing my other hand, "I don't want to fight anymore."
"Fight what?" I asked near a whisper, "The cancer?"
She nodded, and sniffed, "I'm dying Mulder...why am I fighting?"
I swallowed hard, I couldn't let her give up, "Why are you fighting?" I repeated.
She gave me the patented Scully look then, and I drew in a deep breath. How do I answer that?
I swallowed my pride, and for once, instead of me leaning on her, I needed to be there for her and put my ego and my selfishness behind me. I had to do it for her.
"You are fighting, Dana, because-Gosh Dana, because you are strong, and you are loved....you have a large family that adores you.....you have a smile that, although is sparse, when you show it, lights up the room. You have eyes that swallow anyone who looks into them. You have a passion so overwhelming that it is only possessed by you...."
She was really crying then, and I know I was as well so I, again reached out and tenderly wiped a tear from her eyes, and very quietly whispered, "Who would keep me out of trouble if you weren't around?"
This brought a slight giggle from her, and I softly kissed her hand.
"Mulder, you are insatiable," she said then...she was silent and swallowed, "I feel so sick....it hurts, Mulder."
I nodded, "Will you allow me to stay with you through this one, Dana?" I asked, "Will you give in and just let me take over when the nasuea and pain become too much for you?"
This was a lot to ask of her, I know. But I needed, and she needed, for the walls we held up for so long, to begin tumbling down.
Silently, she nodded. And she let me in.
She spoke two words to me after that. Two words that linger here forever in my heart. As she reached up and gingerly wiped a tear from my eyes she said two words, "I'm sorry."
A month later she went into remission. Two months after that, we became lovers.
And now, as I lay here, at 5:30 in the morning, I am bound and determined to give Dana a Christmas she won't ever forget. Dana has allowed me into her life, and I am going to make this Christmas the beginning of our traditions. Why? Because I remember that Christmas so long ago when I was seven. I want tons more of those, and I want them with Dana. I want to give her the entire world. Hell, if she asked for a star from the heavens, I'd fly on the next shuttle out of here to bring her back one.
Untill then, she must settle with the Christmas day Fox Mulder has to offer her.
Carefully, I unwrap my arms from around Dana's sleeping body and reach blindly for my boxers. After finding them I tiptoe out into the livingroom. The only light coming from the source of our Christmas tree in which we decorated together with her mother, this year.
Speaking of her mother. I've become an official adopted son-in-law of Maggie Scully, much to her son Bill's dismay. Of course I could care less what that jack ass thinks. We have a dinner at her house today at 12 o'clock sharp.
Why does she call that dinner? Isn't that technically lunch? Oh well, not much difference.
I make my way over to Dana's stocking and double check that the chocolates, and the diamond necklace I placed in there late last night, are still there. I then go to my stocking and attempt to steal a peek. The impatient little boy in me still lingers as he always has.
"Just what do you think you are doing??" the stern familiar voice startles me before I get a chance to see.
Oopsy, caught red handed.
I turn around and smile. I know that there is guilt written all over my blushed face.
"Hi sweetheart," I say nonchalantly, "I didn't mean to wake you."
Uh oh, the hands are on the hips. Boy am I in deep trouble.
"I didn't open anything," I say immediatly, "I-ah, just was checking your stocking."
Oh boy, the tiny right foot begins to tap impatiently and the hands are still on her hips, which are covered by my teeshirt. One word......busted.
"My name is not Fox," she states calmly as she points to the stocking I stand next to. I turn to look and sure enough, the one I got caught peeking into, clearly says the word "FOX".
I do the only thing I can do.....I smile a goofy grin. Surely that will make the blow I'm about to receive a little bit softer.
"Fox William Mulder," she says sternly, "You are such a.....such a....ugh, male."
She smiles in disbelief and comes over to me and kisses me on the lips. I may add....the kiss was well returned.
"Hmmm," she says pulling away, her eyes shinning into mine, "I wonder what Santa brought me this year."
I take her hands in mine and kiss them. "Well, you aren't going to know untill you look in your stocking."
She nods, "Well, then we'll just have to look....I heard from a little birdie, that you were a good boy this year too...so you might want to look in your stocking."
We throw each other knowing grins and run to our stockings as if we were little kids again, ready to see what toys we got this year.
We meet on the couch and began riffling through our stash. Dana recieves her chocolates, I receive my little space Alien fountain pin set, and then we bring out our small wrapped packages.
Almost comically, we shake ours in unisom when all we have to do is rip through the paper and find out what lays under it. And finally we do.
I hear Dana gasp as she pulls out her diamond gold necklace that has the diamond in a heart pendant. Tears come to her eyes in disbelief.
"Mulder," she says through her tears, "I-It's beautiful!"
She holds it up, and watches it spark through the light of the Christmas tree.
"Here, let me put it on you," I say in a whisper.
She abides and lifts up her soft hair and allows me to reach over to put it around her neck. Might I say, it fits her perfectly.
She reaches down and grabs the heart and mesmorizes it for a moment. She then looks up and kisses me again. A nice lingering kiss.
She pulls away, "Open yours."
I rip mine open and gasp at the site I see. I have always wanted one, but they were always too expensive.....a Rolex.
"Jesus, Dana" I say, taking the beautiful watch out of it's package.
"Turn it over," she replies, "There is an inscription on the back."
I do as she says, and I read the inscription.
"All my love for you wrapped up in one small package -D" it says in tiny engraved writing.
I smile and kiss her again through shades of tears, "It is gorgeous Dana."
I allow my Dana to put my watch on my right hand and I take a moment to admire it. Isn't this such a beautiful picture? I sure wish I had one. What a precious moment this is for the two people in the world, who, for so long, were totally alone in the world.
Here we are, sitting together, side by side opening gifts. We are totally in love, hand in hand where we belong. I hope it can always be this way. I hope her cancer never returns.
No, I will not think about that now. This is a time when I need to be celebrating with the woman I love. I am celebrating, not only our life together, but the second chance at life she was given.
You know, they say that there are things such as Earthbound Angels, and although they are here for such a short while, they spread such an enormous amount of love to the people in thier lives.
While a large part of me likes to think of Dana as "My Earthbound Angel", the back of my mind tells me no. Because that would mean, she's here for just a little while. I want her forever.
As I watch her kneel at the Christmas tree riffling through the presents that her mother sent for her and I, I find myself pleading with God.
'If Dana's cancer does return,' I swallow, while silently praying, 'If she must be taken from my life....please don't put her through the pain the cancer has put her through before....Lord, you have given me the most precious gift that I, on this day, must thank you for.....and although you rarely hear from a sap like me....I must say my personal thank you....Thank you, God, for my Earthbound Angel.'
End
* * *
So???? What did you think???? Oh, please be nice to me. Feedback sure is welcome, but please, not too many flames.
Do we want a sequel or was it good enough????