I wrote this fic-let a year or so ago, when I was doing a re-watch of the entire series. I never got around to publishing it back then, but it slots in with the other X File fics I wrote at that time. This fic-let is set during Mulder's two week recuperation period alluded to at the end of the seventh season episode, Brand X. The brief reference to a new X File at the end of this fic comes from a seventh season story idea which was never developed. The poem verse is from Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost. I do not own anything X Files related, I'm just a fan helping to keep the search for the truth alive. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read this fic, and reviews are always appreciated – Mrs P.
Clearing the Air
Fox Mulder had spent more time inside of hospitals in recent years than he cared to remember. This was a particularly unwelcome encounter and he was feeling pretty sorry for himself. He had been on the nicotine treatment recommended by his partner, and more recently, lover, Dana Scully, for three days now. It worked just as she had hoped, with the tobacco beetles and their larvae dying off. His lungs were gradually drained and cleared. Mulder was on a lot of medication and his mind was foggy. He kept drifting in and out of sleep, dreaming of monsters, death, Dana and his mother.
Fox?
Can you hear me, Fox?
Oh my darling boy, how much you have suffered.
I just want to make it stop, but I can't.
Only you can bring all of this pain and suffering to an end.
And you must.
Mulder gasped for breath and it hurt because his chest was so sore. There were tears in his eyes as he opened them, and they started to slowly fall down his cheeks.
"Mulder?"
He felt her hands on his before he could see her clearly, and when her face did come into focus, she looked pale and care worn.
"Scully," he rasped in no more than a breathy whisper.
"It's okay, you're going to be okay, Mulder," she assured him as she tenderly stroked his face.
"My chest… hurts like hell," he gasped.
"I'm not surprised; we had to keep using the deep suction to clear your lungs. You'll be alright now; it'll just take a while for you to get your strength back. I can get your doctor to increase your pain meds if you're feeling a lot of discomfort," she offered as she began to assess the readings from his various monitors and chart.
He nodded.
He wasn't usually one to take the easy option, but he didn't need the pain to remind him of anything this time.
Scully continued to sit with him as the drugs took effect and his eyes grew heavy once again.
"Close your eyes, Mulder, and get some rest. I'll come back in the morning," she leaned over and gently kissed his forehead.
For once, he did as he was told.
Fox?
He opened his eyes to find himself tucked up in his childhood bed.
His mother came into the room and turned on the bedside lamp. She had a book in her hand, and on the cover was a familiar-looking beautiful redheaded woman. The title of the book was, Dana's Impossible Dream.
You always loved it when I read to you, do you remember, Fox?
She smiled in a sad way and smoothed down his hair.
I remember, mom.
Mulder could feel tears falling down his cheeks as he looked at his mother. He thought about how things used to be before tragedy took over their lives.
Don't cry my darling boy. Let me read to you once more, just as I used to.
He wiped his eyes and settled down to listen.
Once upon a time there was a pretty, redheaded woman, called Dana. Her mommy and daddy wanted her to become a doctor, which is what she did. It wasn't challenging enough for her, though, and Dana wanted more. She was offered a job with the FBI, and she took it. Dana hoped she would find what she was looking for there, and she did. One day, she was sent to work with a handsome young man, who everyone else thought was crazy, but not Dana. They shared lots of scary adventures together and they saw many amazing things. There were bad men and monsters who tried to kill them, but they always had each other. Over the years, the handsome man and the pretty, redheaded woman fell in love with each other. He wanted to keep her safe and protect her from the bad things, and the bad people. He also wanted to find something called the truth. She wanted to have his baby and find a home where they would all live happily ever after. The handsome man knew, in his heart, he couldn't make her wishes come true. It was Dana's impossible dream.
Mulder didn't like this story, and he gave his mother a questioning look as she closed the book.
I know you love her, Fox; you also know you can't make her any promises about the future.
You've suffered so much, and I don't want you to suffer anymore.
There has to be an end.
I want you to understand why I did what I did, because I know you couldn't accept that I'd killed myself.
I knew what the disease I had was going to do to me, and I chose my own ending. I hoped you might finally be able to understand, now that you're walking down a similar road. You can choose the way your story ends too.
Take my own life? Mulder shook his head.
I can't do that. I don't know how much time I have left, but I want to spend it with Dana.
One way or another you will end up leaving her.
If you end your story now it will be better for both of you.
What do you mean, mom? Why now?
Mulder's mother got up and walked to the bedroom door.
You'll leave her with more than a broken heart, if you stay.
Mom?
She had already disappeared.
He stumbled after her but his legs felt heavy and as if they were made of jello. He fell to the floor with a thud.
Mulder woke up with a start and his dream left him disorientated. He forgot for a moment that he was lying in a hospital bed, until the beeping of machines and the pain in his chest reminded him. He groaned and shifted about to try and adjust his position to ease his discomfort.
"Mr Mulder, do you need some help?" A nurse came in to assist him.
"No. It's okay," he was too weak to make the effort to move and he waved her away.
"Your partner called, she asked me to tell you that she'll be by later," the nurse explained.
Mulder noticed that the time was just after nine-thirty, he never usually slept so late. He wondered why Scully hadn't stopped by before work, like she promised. He started to think about his dream and what his mother had said. The life he'd been leading since he discovered the X Files had always been fraught with dangers. He learned to live with the ever present peril, and even enjoyed some aspects of it. He was now facing something else altogether. It was one thing to know that you might die for a cause you believed in, and another to be told you had a life-limiting medical condition. His most recent trip to death's door was nothing to do with the ailment that would eventually kill him. But it had pulled him up short, and made him finally give serious thought to his mortality. He hadn't been able to process the fact that he was dying, until it felt like he actually was. Mulder noticed that his doctor was about to come in to see him, and he realised there was something he needed to make clear.
"Good morning, Mr Mulder. Now that we've got your lungs clear again, I think we should talk about your other pre-existing medical condition," the doctor said with a concerned glance.
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. I need to make sure that my right to confidentiality will be respected. I don't want Doctor Scully or the FBI to know anything about it just now," he stated as firmly as he could with his raspy whisper of a voice.
"I assure you that no one will be informed of your condition without your expressed consent. I can only advise you that it would be in all of your best interests to tell them, and sooner rather than later," the doctor said.
"I vote for later," Mulder said with a weak smile.
The doctor left, and his patient soon fell into another deep sleep.
Hello again, sleepyhead.
You just can't seem to stay in that other world for long, can you?
Mulder opened his eyes to find he was sitting out on the stoop of his old childhood home. His mother was smiling at him.
This was the last place we lived in as a family, all of us together. We were happy here, she said.
We could be together again.
He sighed and let out a sob he didn't know he'd been holding in.
His mother put her arm around his shoulder and comforted him as she used to when he was a boy.
Let it out, Fox.
Let it go.
There's nothing left for you in that world.
Her voice grew faint.
Mom? He shouted.
Mulder?
He heard the electronic beeping of his heart and lung monitors. The surgical smell of his surroundings invaded his nostrils.
"Mom?" He questioned as his eyes fluttered open, his mind still too foggy to separate dream from reality.
"Mulder, it's me," Scully's voice brought him back to his senses.
He looked like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't be.
"You were dreaming about your mother?" She asked as she began to tenderly stroke his hand.
"I… I don't know. Maybe," he was evasive.
Mulder quickly changed the subject.
"I missed you this morning."
He looked completely vulnerable and she thought for a second that he was going to cry.
"Is everything okay?" She moved closer to him and lovingly ran her fingers through his hair.
"Yeah, really, it's just the drugs making me sleepy," he rasped.
Scully nodded her head but didn't look convinced. She had other things on her mind, though.
"Mulder, I have to go back to DC. Skinner told me this morning that he needs me to write up everything we've got on this case, and that's why I couldn't get in to see you. Morley are moving fast on this, and Skinner's feeling the heat. I spoke to your doctor, and he said you'd be well enough to travel in a few days," she gave him a sheepish look.
She hated to leave without him, but work was work, and whatever they had going on personally, he was still focused when it came to that. He looked grief stricken for a fleeting moment and he clung onto her hand. Scully was concerned and gave him one of her best scrutinising looks.
"Staying in here sucks, I know, but it's only for a couple more days. I… I'll miss you," she said, although she couldn't look him in the eye when she spoke the words.
It was new, this thing between them. They had been partners and best friends for years and they loved each other, that wasn't new. It was the recent addition to the equation of physical intimacy which was making Scully so skittish.
"I guess I'm just lucky that I get to go home at all, I mean, all things considered," he struggled to get the words out as his throat was dry.
He took a quick sip of the water his companion held up for him.
"Plenty of people might not have been surprised if the doctors had found a bug up my ass, but this?" He quipped.
"Just rest up, Mulder, and you'll be home before you know it."
Scully bent over to tenderly kiss his forehead.
He watched her leave, and wondered when he would see her again.
Mulder stared blankly at the TV screen. He was trying not to fall back to sleep and awful daytime soaps were not helping. If he wanted melodrama all he had to do was close his eyes and count to ten.
Fox?
Mom.
He laughed at the absurdity of it all and she looked confused.
They were at the summer house in Quonochontaug this time. It looked just the way it used to when they'd spent weekends there, long ago.
If you're gonna give me another pep talk about how great the afterlife is, you can save it, he faced his mother with a scowl.
He got up and walked out onto the lawn, as he pictured all the times he chased Samantha round it.
His mother moved over to where he was standing, and took his hand in hers.
All I ever wanted to do was protect you. I knew the truth would only give you more pain, she said.
No. You could have saved me years of chasing down dead ends and searching for answers you had all the time. I found out what happened to Samantha, but you already knew she was dead, didn't you? His words carried none of the anger he had once held inside.
Yes.
That was all the reply his mother could give, and neither of them had any tears left to shed.
Your father should have told you the truth, she spat with disdain.
My father, which one? Mulder felt his anger return.
His mother stared out off towards the nearby lake, as if she was picturing something that happened there long ago.
Your father loved to be out on the water, it was the only time he could really relax. Bill Mulder was your father, in every way that mattered. We hadn't been married long, and he was never home. I spent a couple of drunken nights with another man, and I regretted it for the rest of my life. Your father forgave me, at least he said he had, but our marriage wasn't strong enough to survive losing Samantha. She was Bill's daughter, no matter what anyone else might have told you.
Mulder sighed; he knew this was just a dream. His mind could be concocting anything out of the mess of lies and half-truths he'd heard over the years. He had too much in his head, and more than he wanted.
I know Dana loves you; I knew it the moment I first met her. You haven't told her you're dying though, have you? His mother looked at him expectantly.
I'm not ready to give up. It's not over yet, he was defiant.
His mother's eyes were full of pity.
Oh, Fox, it was over a long long time ago, you just didn't know it.
"Mr Mulder?"
His eyes fluttered open at the sound of the doctor's voice.
"I spoke with Doctor Thompson, regarding your neurological disorder, and he's told me that all options have already been explored. There's nothing for me to do but increase the dosage of your pain medication," he was sombre.
"There's no easy way of saying this, but you already know it's only a matter of time. I don't think anybody could say for sure how long, it could be weeks or months. I'm so sorry," he said.
Mulder nodded.
"Where there's life, there's hope, right?" He had to believe that was true.
Scully was at death's door when she had cancer, and she didn't stop fighting. He never gave up on finding a cure for her. He wasn't going to give up now, not after everything. He loved her too much to tell her he was dying, and he was holding onto the hope of finding a miracle of his own.
Glad to be back?
Beats the alternative.
Mulder leaned back in his chair and gazed up at his ceiling pencil collection. When he thought about leaving his mark on the world, that wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind. It wasn't too late, he told himself. There was still time, just not much of it.
He thought about the dreams he'd had about his mother. He understood why she made the decision to end her own life. He only wished he could have found some way to make peace with her before she'd done it. It wasn't about her taking the easy way out, he knew that now. She just realised it was already over and there was no point waiting around for the inevitable. Mulder didn't feel the same way. He still had the X Files and Scully by his side. He recited a favourite verse of a Robert Frost poem in his head.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
The phone rang and she answered it.
"Once more unto the breach, huh?" He jested.
She grinned and waved her notepad in the air.
"Apparently there's a man in Cumberland who can control time," she rolled her eyes.
"The clock never stops for us, does it?" She sighed and grabbed her coat.
I hope not, he thought.
THE END.