AUTHOR: Kate Mulder
EMAIL: Enigma806@aol.com
TITLE: Brand New Angel
RATING: PG
ARCHIVE: Sure, if you want it. Just send me the link, and keep this header
intact.
FEEDBACK: I love it. Enigma806@aol.com
DISCLAIMER: Kate and Vicki are my creations, everyone else is Chris Carter's.
Simple enough? 1013 and FOX are in on this...no copyright infringement
intended. Please don't sue me...but even if you did, I have nothing of any
value to you. Trust me on that one. Besides, if I owned this goldmine, I'd
be living in an eclectically decorated Arlington (maybe Alexandria) apartment
instead of military housing. :) "One Sweet Day" is not mine, either, it's
sung by Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men.
SUMMARY: Tragedy strikes the Mulder family yet again. How will they pick up
the pieces this time?
SPOILERS: "SUZ/Closure" Other than that, they'll be tiny.
CATEGORY/KEYWORDS: Vignette, Frohike POV, angst, M/S married, character death
(not M or S)
NOTES: I'd originally intended to write this from Mulder or Scully's POV, but
I couldn't bring myself to do it. I wasn't ready to delve into that level of
emotion just yet. So I picked an outside observer who's close to the
situation, which is what I was when the real-life event that inspired this
story occurred. More about that after the story. Major tissue warning,
especially if you have children or are expecting any. This is depressing! I
don't do this just for the heck of it, it actually helps in a way. Kate
Mulder is a character I created for a RPG, and she kind of became a character
in stories from there. That's where my pen name comes from. She's 16 in all
the other stories she appears in...this is the first time I've ever had her
younger. "Requiem" didn't happen in this story's universe.
___________________
I was alone when I got the call. Which wasn't anything unusual...I was a
loner for years before I met Byers and Langly. They were, at that moment,
out in New Mexico, checking out something that really tipped the scales on
the weirdness factor. I'd have gone, but *somebody* had to mind the store.
The next issue of our magazine was due out in two weeks.
Didn't bother me, though. We had plenty of time before we had to go to
press. Besides which, as much as I like those two, sometimes a break from
them can be welcome. We're three such different personalities, it's amazing
we haven't killed each other before now.
The phone rang, and I knew something was wrong the moment I heard Mulder's
voice.
"Frohike?"
"Yeah?" I asked, switching off the recording device. This wasn't something I
did often, but this was also a very personal situation. I could tell.
"Would you mind coming over here...just for a minute?" His voice sounded
choked, as if he were having trouble speaking. And that's when I heard it.
I heard Scully sobbing in the background. That's what really hit it home for
me that something was majorly, seriously wrong.
"Of course," I assured him. "I'll be right there."
On my way to their house, I reflected on the past year. After all the
problems they had survived, after all the tragedies...things were finally
starting to go right for the Mulder family. Little Kate was getting bigger
every day--she was five now. And they had a brand-new baby, Vicki. Kate
adored her little sister, and Mulder and Scully adored both their little
girls. They'd just bought a new house in Maryland, Skinner had given them
the X-Files back (but allowed them to work out a better schedule to allow for
two small children), and Kate was due to start kindergarten in the fall.
Things were wonderful. And they deserved it, after everything they'd been
through. But now tragedy had struck again. What had happened now?
What really got to me was hearing Scully cry like that. Her sister's
funeral, she'd been stoic as ever, kept it all inside...they'd called her the
Ice Queen for it, but she hadn't cared. When she's thought Mulder had died,
she'd cried--but not like this. It frightened me, knowing something could
devastate her so much.
What on earth had happened?
I got to the house, and Mulder met me at the door. Scully was inside,
sitting on the couch. She was still crying her eyes out. Poor thing. I set
aside my love for her on the day she was married, but I still care for her
deeply. I care for all of them. And it tore at my heart to see her like
this.
Mulder was obviously trying to be strong for her, but I could see right
through it.
Kate was on the couch, next to her mother, trying to comfort her, but not
knowing how.
"Thanks for coming," Mulder said, and I tried to manage a smile.
"Any time, buddy." That's what friends are for, after all. I looked around,
knowing that Vicki usually had the household hopping by this time of the
morning. After all, she was three months old. "Where's the baby?"
The pained expression on Mulder's face told me everything. All the pieces
fell together in that one split second. "Oh, no...man...I am so sorry..."
The only appropriate words at a time like that are never enough.
He just managed half a smile, and put a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at
him, and I knew he was barely holding himself together. That he was doing it
for his wife's sake. Screw this "I'll be okay, don't worry about me" crap.
He'd just lost his kid. He wasn't *supposed* to be okay. No one *expected*
him to be okay. I pulled him a little closer, and hugged him. I've done
this maybe once before--in my life. I'm not a real emotional person. But
forget that, I had a friend who needed it. I don't have any family...my
friends *are* my family. And I'd do anything--*anything*--for them.
Kate shoved herself off the couch, and crossed the room. Mulder turned to
her when she tugged on the bottom of his shirt.
"What is it, sweetie?"
She held her arms up, and he picked her up obligingly. Her green eyes looked
deep into his. She was definitely her father's daughter--in both looks and
personality.
"Daddy? Why's Mommy crying? Where's Vicki?"
She was so young...so innocent. She didn't understand. She didn't know that
her baby sister was forever gone.
As Mulder tried to find a way to put things in terms the five-year-old would
understand, I stepped away long enough to place a phone call. Langly's
messed with my cell phone so much, it's probably untraceable...but even if it
weren't, I didn't care. I dialed Byers' number.
"I think you'd better get back here," I told him as soon as he answered.
"You and Langly both."
"Why?"
"Never mind the 'why'," I insisted, "just get back here. I'll explain
everything later."
There was no way I was going to give them news like this over the phone.
XXXXXXXX
The funeral was three days later. I have never seen so many flowers in one
place in all my life. I have also never seen anything more depressing in all
my life.
They say it was SIDS--crib death. Whatever you want to call it, it should
never have happened. Babies shouldn't die. It's just so wrong, so
pointless.
The inscription below one of the pictures really struck me. "The longest
life is short, but the shortest life is a miracle." Isn't that the truth.
It's amazing--Vicki only lived three months, but the joy she brought into
everybody's lives in those three months...it's immeasurable.
I took a look at the scene around me. Maggie Scully was at her daughter's
side, as she had been since she'd gotten the news. It was a good thing, too,
because I think that was the only thing keeping Dana on her feet. She was in
pieces...not that I blame her, poor kid. She'd already lost Emily, now she
was having to deal with losing another child.
Langly looked as though he would rather be someplace else--*any*place else.
He kept avoiding looking anywhere near the casket. It was so tiny--too tiny.
I could understand his reasoning. It's like, "this is just a horrible
dream, please let me wake up now."
Mulder looked absolutely lost. It was his own way of dealing with
things...trying not to deal with them. His coping mechanisms had worked for
him for years; I wasn't about to argue with them. I just wished there were
something else I could do.
Byers had kind of been in denial about it until we'd gotten here. I could
tell that it was just now starting to hit him. He was kind of keeping to
himself.
And Kate...she still didn't quite grasp what was happening. People would
come up to her, hug her, pat her on the head...and she'd just run a hand over
her hair and keep on going with her life. She didn't have a clue. And I
envied her for that. More than anyone could ever know.
I was still angry over the unfairness of it all. They were good people, and
besides which, they'd had enough happen to them already! Into each life
some rain must fall, sure, but this was getting ridiculous. Scully had lost
her her father, her sister, her dog--two of her daughters now... And Mulder.
He'd spent so many years searching for Samantha only to learn she'd been
lost to him almost all along. They murdered his father, drove his mother to
suicide...and now his baby daughter had died too. It wasn't fair. It just
wasn't fair. But when is life ever?
In all my adult life, I had never cried before. I didn't cry in 1973 when I
came back from Vietnam only to discover that my wife had given up and run off
with some stupid delivery boy. I didn't cry when I thought that the man I
had considered to be my hero--and one of my best friends--was supposedly
dead. I didn't cry when the woman I had spent years hopelessly in love with
married that man. I'd gone and gotten drunk, but I hadn't cried. But now,
looking at little Kate as she peered into the casket...as I hear her whisper
one tiny sentence, all my emotional walls broke down and the tears came.
"C'mon, Vicki," she whispered, in that sweet and syrupy little-girl voice of
hers, "you gotta wake up."
XXXXXXXX
The service itself was beautiful. I'd never seen anything like it. Of
course, I had made a strenuous point of avoiding these things before. I had
only gone if my presence was absolutely necessary.
Most of it now is a blur of memories to me--I recall bits and pieces. Father
McCue mentioned something about trials in life, and how they always
overcame...mention was made of Emily...but I'll never forget when Jamie Lynn
got up to sing. She was their babysitter...she'd known the family since Kate
was two. I remember the song perfectly. It was called "God Bless a Brand
New Angel". That's what little Vicki was now--at least I liked to think so.
The newest tiny angel.
I'd remembered glancing at the obituary...and thinking how black and white it
all seemed. "Victoria Promise Mulder, infant, three months". That's how
they summarized the life of a little girl who had brought so much happiness
to everyone around her. A girl who was always happy about everything...a
girl with her mother's hair and her father's eyes. No, the bit in the paper
didn't do little Vicki justice...but, then, nothing ever could have.
I remember the song that was playing as everyone filtered out to go to the
graveside service or wherever they were going to go. "One Sweet Day".
"Sorry I never told you
All I wanted to say
But now it's too late to hold you
Because you've flown away
So far away
Never had I imagined
Living without your smile
Feeling, knowing you hear me
It keeps me alive
Alive
And I know you're shining down on me from heaven
Like so many friends we've lost along the way.
And I know eventually we'll be together
One sweet day."
As I headed out to the car, I couldn't help but think that maybe somewhere
beyond the sky, beyond the sea...a woman was cuddling the baby girl in her
arms as she walked over to see her father. A teenager dragged her parents
over to see, as a little blonde-haired girl played at their feet.
Notes: Okay, I promised you the story...this story was written with someone
in mind. A couple of years ago, my friend's baby sister died. It was the
first time in my life I'd ever dealt with death first-hand. Even now, if I
think about it for too long, it depresses me. I found the easiest way to
deal with it was to do so in a literary way...i.e., put it in a fic. Some of
Frohike's thoughts come from my own, I must admit. Some of it's poetic
listens. This story is special to me, for obvious reasons. My friend's
family had also lost another child previously...I dedicate this story in
loving memory of them both. May they forever rest in peace.
EMAIL: Enigma806@aol.com
TITLE: Brand New Angel
RATING: PG
ARCHIVE: Sure, if you want it. Just send me the link, and keep this header
intact.
FEEDBACK: I love it. Enigma806@aol.com
DISCLAIMER: Kate and Vicki are my creations, everyone else is Chris Carter's.
Simple enough? 1013 and FOX are in on this...no copyright infringement
intended. Please don't sue me...but even if you did, I have nothing of any
value to you. Trust me on that one. Besides, if I owned this goldmine, I'd
be living in an eclectically decorated Arlington (maybe Alexandria) apartment
instead of military housing. :) "One Sweet Day" is not mine, either, it's
sung by Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men.
SUMMARY: Tragedy strikes the Mulder family yet again. How will they pick up
the pieces this time?
SPOILERS: "SUZ/Closure" Other than that, they'll be tiny.
CATEGORY/KEYWORDS: Vignette, Frohike POV, angst, M/S married, character death
(not M or S)
NOTES: I'd originally intended to write this from Mulder or Scully's POV, but
I couldn't bring myself to do it. I wasn't ready to delve into that level of
emotion just yet. So I picked an outside observer who's close to the
situation, which is what I was when the real-life event that inspired this
story occurred. More about that after the story. Major tissue warning,
especially if you have children or are expecting any. This is depressing! I
don't do this just for the heck of it, it actually helps in a way. Kate
Mulder is a character I created for a RPG, and she kind of became a character
in stories from there. That's where my pen name comes from. She's 16 in all
the other stories she appears in...this is the first time I've ever had her
younger. "Requiem" didn't happen in this story's universe.
___________________
I was alone when I got the call. Which wasn't anything unusual...I was a
loner for years before I met Byers and Langly. They were, at that moment,
out in New Mexico, checking out something that really tipped the scales on
the weirdness factor. I'd have gone, but *somebody* had to mind the store.
The next issue of our magazine was due out in two weeks.
Didn't bother me, though. We had plenty of time before we had to go to
press. Besides which, as much as I like those two, sometimes a break from
them can be welcome. We're three such different personalities, it's amazing
we haven't killed each other before now.
The phone rang, and I knew something was wrong the moment I heard Mulder's
voice.
"Frohike?"
"Yeah?" I asked, switching off the recording device. This wasn't something I
did often, but this was also a very personal situation. I could tell.
"Would you mind coming over here...just for a minute?" His voice sounded
choked, as if he were having trouble speaking. And that's when I heard it.
I heard Scully sobbing in the background. That's what really hit it home for
me that something was majorly, seriously wrong.
"Of course," I assured him. "I'll be right there."
On my way to their house, I reflected on the past year. After all the
problems they had survived, after all the tragedies...things were finally
starting to go right for the Mulder family. Little Kate was getting bigger
every day--she was five now. And they had a brand-new baby, Vicki. Kate
adored her little sister, and Mulder and Scully adored both their little
girls. They'd just bought a new house in Maryland, Skinner had given them
the X-Files back (but allowed them to work out a better schedule to allow for
two small children), and Kate was due to start kindergarten in the fall.
Things were wonderful. And they deserved it, after everything they'd been
through. But now tragedy had struck again. What had happened now?
What really got to me was hearing Scully cry like that. Her sister's
funeral, she'd been stoic as ever, kept it all inside...they'd called her the
Ice Queen for it, but she hadn't cared. When she's thought Mulder had died,
she'd cried--but not like this. It frightened me, knowing something could
devastate her so much.
What on earth had happened?
I got to the house, and Mulder met me at the door. Scully was inside,
sitting on the couch. She was still crying her eyes out. Poor thing. I set
aside my love for her on the day she was married, but I still care for her
deeply. I care for all of them. And it tore at my heart to see her like
this.
Mulder was obviously trying to be strong for her, but I could see right
through it.
Kate was on the couch, next to her mother, trying to comfort her, but not
knowing how.
"Thanks for coming," Mulder said, and I tried to manage a smile.
"Any time, buddy." That's what friends are for, after all. I looked around,
knowing that Vicki usually had the household hopping by this time of the
morning. After all, she was three months old. "Where's the baby?"
The pained expression on Mulder's face told me everything. All the pieces
fell together in that one split second. "Oh, no...man...I am so sorry..."
The only appropriate words at a time like that are never enough.
He just managed half a smile, and put a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at
him, and I knew he was barely holding himself together. That he was doing it
for his wife's sake. Screw this "I'll be okay, don't worry about me" crap.
He'd just lost his kid. He wasn't *supposed* to be okay. No one *expected*
him to be okay. I pulled him a little closer, and hugged him. I've done
this maybe once before--in my life. I'm not a real emotional person. But
forget that, I had a friend who needed it. I don't have any family...my
friends *are* my family. And I'd do anything--*anything*--for them.
Kate shoved herself off the couch, and crossed the room. Mulder turned to
her when she tugged on the bottom of his shirt.
"What is it, sweetie?"
She held her arms up, and he picked her up obligingly. Her green eyes looked
deep into his. She was definitely her father's daughter--in both looks and
personality.
"Daddy? Why's Mommy crying? Where's Vicki?"
She was so young...so innocent. She didn't understand. She didn't know that
her baby sister was forever gone.
As Mulder tried to find a way to put things in terms the five-year-old would
understand, I stepped away long enough to place a phone call. Langly's
messed with my cell phone so much, it's probably untraceable...but even if it
weren't, I didn't care. I dialed Byers' number.
"I think you'd better get back here," I told him as soon as he answered.
"You and Langly both."
"Why?"
"Never mind the 'why'," I insisted, "just get back here. I'll explain
everything later."
There was no way I was going to give them news like this over the phone.
XXXXXXXX
The funeral was three days later. I have never seen so many flowers in one
place in all my life. I have also never seen anything more depressing in all
my life.
They say it was SIDS--crib death. Whatever you want to call it, it should
never have happened. Babies shouldn't die. It's just so wrong, so
pointless.
The inscription below one of the pictures really struck me. "The longest
life is short, but the shortest life is a miracle." Isn't that the truth.
It's amazing--Vicki only lived three months, but the joy she brought into
everybody's lives in those three months...it's immeasurable.
I took a look at the scene around me. Maggie Scully was at her daughter's
side, as she had been since she'd gotten the news. It was a good thing, too,
because I think that was the only thing keeping Dana on her feet. She was in
pieces...not that I blame her, poor kid. She'd already lost Emily, now she
was having to deal with losing another child.
Langly looked as though he would rather be someplace else--*any*place else.
He kept avoiding looking anywhere near the casket. It was so tiny--too tiny.
I could understand his reasoning. It's like, "this is just a horrible
dream, please let me wake up now."
Mulder looked absolutely lost. It was his own way of dealing with
things...trying not to deal with them. His coping mechanisms had worked for
him for years; I wasn't about to argue with them. I just wished there were
something else I could do.
Byers had kind of been in denial about it until we'd gotten here. I could
tell that it was just now starting to hit him. He was kind of keeping to
himself.
And Kate...she still didn't quite grasp what was happening. People would
come up to her, hug her, pat her on the head...and she'd just run a hand over
her hair and keep on going with her life. She didn't have a clue. And I
envied her for that. More than anyone could ever know.
I was still angry over the unfairness of it all. They were good people, and
besides which, they'd had enough happen to them already! Into each life
some rain must fall, sure, but this was getting ridiculous. Scully had lost
her her father, her sister, her dog--two of her daughters now... And Mulder.
He'd spent so many years searching for Samantha only to learn she'd been
lost to him almost all along. They murdered his father, drove his mother to
suicide...and now his baby daughter had died too. It wasn't fair. It just
wasn't fair. But when is life ever?
In all my adult life, I had never cried before. I didn't cry in 1973 when I
came back from Vietnam only to discover that my wife had given up and run off
with some stupid delivery boy. I didn't cry when I thought that the man I
had considered to be my hero--and one of my best friends--was supposedly
dead. I didn't cry when the woman I had spent years hopelessly in love with
married that man. I'd gone and gotten drunk, but I hadn't cried. But now,
looking at little Kate as she peered into the casket...as I hear her whisper
one tiny sentence, all my emotional walls broke down and the tears came.
"C'mon, Vicki," she whispered, in that sweet and syrupy little-girl voice of
hers, "you gotta wake up."
XXXXXXXX
The service itself was beautiful. I'd never seen anything like it. Of
course, I had made a strenuous point of avoiding these things before. I had
only gone if my presence was absolutely necessary.
Most of it now is a blur of memories to me--I recall bits and pieces. Father
McCue mentioned something about trials in life, and how they always
overcame...mention was made of Emily...but I'll never forget when Jamie Lynn
got up to sing. She was their babysitter...she'd known the family since Kate
was two. I remember the song perfectly. It was called "God Bless a Brand
New Angel". That's what little Vicki was now--at least I liked to think so.
The newest tiny angel.
I'd remembered glancing at the obituary...and thinking how black and white it
all seemed. "Victoria Promise Mulder, infant, three months". That's how
they summarized the life of a little girl who had brought so much happiness
to everyone around her. A girl who was always happy about everything...a
girl with her mother's hair and her father's eyes. No, the bit in the paper
didn't do little Vicki justice...but, then, nothing ever could have.
I remember the song that was playing as everyone filtered out to go to the
graveside service or wherever they were going to go. "One Sweet Day".
"Sorry I never told you
All I wanted to say
But now it's too late to hold you
Because you've flown away
So far away
Never had I imagined
Living without your smile
Feeling, knowing you hear me
It keeps me alive
Alive
And I know you're shining down on me from heaven
Like so many friends we've lost along the way.
And I know eventually we'll be together
One sweet day."
As I headed out to the car, I couldn't help but think that maybe somewhere
beyond the sky, beyond the sea...a woman was cuddling the baby girl in her
arms as she walked over to see her father. A teenager dragged her parents
over to see, as a little blonde-haired girl played at their feet.
Notes: Okay, I promised you the story...this story was written with someone
in mind. A couple of years ago, my friend's baby sister died. It was the
first time in my life I'd ever dealt with death first-hand. Even now, if I
think about it for too long, it depresses me. I found the easiest way to
deal with it was to do so in a literary way...i.e., put it in a fic. Some of
Frohike's thoughts come from my own, I must admit. Some of it's poetic
listens. This story is special to me, for obvious reasons. My friend's
family had also lost another child previously...I dedicate this story in
loving memory of them both. May they forever rest in peace.