We paid and left the deli, wandering slowly down the mall, glancing from window to window along with a multitude of shoppers. I had wandered ahead while Mulder was busy scanning a sports store. A bright display across the way caught my eye. A children's clothes store displayed a tiny dress, covered with bright yellow and blue flowers that could have easily been Emily's.
I stared at the display, not realising that Mulder had returned until he draped his arm across my shoulders.
"Scully?" he asked, his voice tentative like a frightened child's.
I did not look at him. I thought of Emily, the little boy I saw with his family, and wandered, what if?
"We never had a chance, did we?"
I didn't hear his reply. I didn't remember going back to the parking lot. It took me some time to realise that we were in front of Mulder's car.
"Mulder, I brought my car."
He unlocked the passenger door. "Get in, Scully. We can get it later."
I sat down and closed my eyes. I heard the slam of the passenger's door and then the driver's door. I expected the whir of the engine to come. But nothing came.
I turned my head towards him.
Mulder stared ahead, sitting very still, as if he was afraid that the slightest movement would cause the carefully laid mortar to crumble. It was a long time before he spoke. And when he did, his voice was so soft that it almost faded into the background.
"You must hate me, Scully."
Tension lines creased his forehead. I saw his Adam's Apple bob up and down as he swallowed.
"Why should I?" I asked, just as softly.
He closed his eyes, and slowly, rested his forehead on the steering wheel. Hiding himself from me.
"I've never given you a chance, Scully. Don't you see that?"
"Mulder..." I protested, reaching out to cup his cheek. "Look at me."
His eyes opened, his irises were lifeless pieces of coal stuck in his head. It scared me when I saw that the events of the past year may have left nothing but an empty husk of a man.
"Why?" I asked again.
He grimaced. "For Christ's sake, Scully. Just look at what's happened to you lately. First, you nearly died of cancer -- and we're not sure if it will remain in remission. Then, if that wasn't enough, you found your daughter, only to have her taken away again."
He whispered, "If I were a decent bastard I'd at least have the courtesy to leave you in peace." he shook, "But, no. I couldn't walk away. I can't walk away, Scully. But don't you worry 'cause I will."
His eyes weren't lifeless now. In fact, they blazed, branding me. Oh, God. How did I ever think my soul was unbound? Mine was bound to this man's as tight as any knot. Right now, the bindings were so tight that it choked me to tears.
I tried to pull him to me, but he resisted, forcing me to pull my hands away. Stubborn man.
"Mulder, let it go."
"Oh, no... I can't... I can't get any closer, Scully. I'll burn you ten times worse than Cecil l'Ively if I do."
I sighed. He just didn't see that there were two sides to an argument. "There's something you're forgetting here."
Mulder stayed incredibly still, eyes boring into mine -- hopefully.
"I don't want you to walk away."
I felt a wave of panic as his eyes darted away.
"You have to let me, Scully. If you want to save yourself." he said,
weakly. I don't think he even managed to convince himself.
"And then who's going to save you?"
"I can take care of myself."
I laughed. "Hah, you're a worse liar than me." I shook my head. "Be honest, Mulder. Do you really want to walk away?"
"I have to walk away."
"No, no. You know that's not what I'm asking here. Tell me, do you want to walk away? To never work together? Never call each other at odd hours of the night? Never see each other? Because I think that's what it'll take if you want to make a clean break."
I tried to look at him in the eyes, but he continued to avoid me. "Is that what you want to do?"
He turned to me now, eyes blurred, but voice firm and sure. "Not in a million years."
My mouth twisted into a smile. When I reached out for him this time, he didn't pull away. He wrapped his long arms around me, hugging me possessively.
A car honked.
We did not move.
The car honked again. "Hey! Are you leaving or not?" cried the driver.
"Mulder--"
"Ignore him."
Eventually, the driver pulled away, shouting a few not-so-nice words in the process. The cocooned silence returned, comfortable and warm. His lips brush my cheeks. When I pulled away to study his face, his eyes were softer, warmer, mirroring the warmth I felt inside me.
"Thank you." I whispered.
He looked confused for a moment. "What for?"
"You gave me a chance, Mulder. You took me in when I was green with next to nothing in field experience. You could've tossed me out then,
when we couldn't even agree on who's driving."
"We could still never agree on that."
I chuckled. "Yeah, I know. But you still let me have my say, even if my theory is ten times more implausible than yours."
I fingered the lapel of his jacket. "And you could have easily pushed me away. That first case in Oregon? When I came into your room, terrified, you could have made a joke out of it. Throw me out of your room for coming on to you. But you gave me a chance. You told me about Samantha."
My fingers stilled their movements. "Mulder, you were my friend even then. And I don't really have that many friends. Not good ones, anyway."
"That's my fault."
I took a deep breath. "No, it was my choice. You know, as a kid we would see Dad off every time he went on tour. I'd be on the verge of crying, and Dad would say, 'Be brave, Starbuck.' And I'd be brave. I wouldn't cry.
"When I think about it, that's what I've been doing all these years. Being brave. Not letting my emotions get to me. Pushing people away because it was easier to be brave that way. I admit that this job doesn't make things easier, but I could have easily made friends, kept in touch with a few close ones. But as it is, I've pushed most of them away. Because it's easier to be brave that way. I don't have to lie when they ask me how I am.
"No, Mulder. It was you who gave me a chance." I said, touching his chest. "You."
I angrily wiped away the tears rolling down my cheeks. "Because I'm not brave, Mulder. I'm a fucking coward. When Emily died, I felt my whole life went to pieces, you know? My only child has died, and I would never get a chance to be a mother again. I couldn't handle that. I'd say to myself for weeks afterwards, 'Be brave, Dana. Be strong.' But you know what I learned? Being brave means being strong enough to ask for help, to admit that you're weak. Not push people away, especially people who'd do anything in the world to help you.
"No, Mulder. I'm the biggest coward that ever lived."
When I looked up, I found his eyes busily scanning my face. The expression in them made me cry harder. He gave me an awkward smile.
"Scully, if anyone is a coward, it's me. I've ditched you so many times, kept things from you, all because I think it will protect you. But inside, I know that you're strong enough. It's just I'm not strong enough.
"I found something in the nursing home in San Diego that I think you should know. But I was too scared to tell you."
I sat still, shocked.
"What about? Emily?"
"Not exactly. I... I found that they were raising another one of your ova, Scully. About six months old. You have another child, Scully."
Oh, god. Another child. I sobbed and grabbed Mulder, squeezing him to me. "Another child..." I cried, "Was it a girl or a boy?"
"A girl... I think." he mumbled.
"We have to find her." I said softly.
"I know." he replied.
"We can't be cowards any more, not if we want to find her and stay sane."
"I know."
"Mulder, you won't walk away, will you?" I asked, suddenly afraid of being alone.
"No, I'll stay."
"And I won't be a coward."
"Deal."
I felt him kiss my forehead. "What do you say we get your car and go back to my place?" he asked.
"Mine's closer."
"True. Okay, your place?"
"Fine. And Mulder?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for being my friend."
He smiled. "I don't deserve you, Scully."
"Ditto."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
That night, I dreamed once more. I was walking with Mulder through the desert, hand in hand. The sky was a crystalline blue, the air unbelievably cool. We walked towards the horizon, where I could see an outline of palm trees. A mirage or an oasis?
But as we walked closer, the palm trees did not disappear, and when we arrived we realised it was indeed an oasis, with a fresh, clear water hole. And playing in the water hole were two children -- a girl and a boy. A boy with bright red hair like mine, and a girl with dark brown hair like Mulder's.
When they saw us, they ran out of the water, screaming at the top of their lungs the sweetest words I'd ever heard.
"Mom! Dad!"
THE END.
Thanks for reading this little one. If you enjoyed this, a review would be lovely.
