A Houseful of Memories
Walking out of the elevator, they were both still smiling. Mulder gripped her hand in his and headed back outside. Back to the afternoon heat, although it felt a bit cooler. He felt so happy. So at ease. The baby was fine, Scully was fine and apparently he had some insatiable sex to look forward to again.
God, when she was pregnant last time, she had been an absolute animal when it came to sex. Their sex life had been amazing right up until he had been abducted and then presumed dead. That put a damper on the old libido, he thought with a smile.
But when he came back, after being dead for months, he had felt out of place. Like he did not belong. He was even unsure of the paternity of the baby and not sure how to broach the subject. The IVF had failed, how was she pregnant?
Until she had sat him down, told him he was being a fucking asshole, that she knew he had been through a lot, but so had she, and he needed to knock it the fuck off, did he understand how angry she had been. Angry and so scared. They had not been them and finally she had reached her breaking point. They had talked, really talked. About the baby, about everything.
After that, they had started getting back on track. Things were good. They had gone back to touching, kissing, but not until the Lamaze class, did they get back to the sexual aspect of their relationship. Boy, did they ever. And now he had that to look forward to again? He was older, but he was most definitely up to the challenge.
He looked at her, at her radiant smile, the afternoon sun shining behind her, lighting her up. She smiled as she caught his eye. She squeezed his hand, and held his arm with her other hand. The wind blew and she closed her eyes. Happy. She was so happy.
"So, how about we head home, make something delicious for dinner, and see where the night takes us?" Mulder said as they got closer to the hospital.
She smiled. That sounded great, but she was about to throw a wrench in those plans. A big one.
"Mulder, I have to get back to the hospital for a little bit. There are some things I need to check on before I leave for the weekend. Just a few things. I should be home about seven, eight at the latest," she said, giving him an apologetic look.
"Oh. Well, that's okay. I can head home and pick something up on the way. Do you want me to get something to make or pick something up?" He asked as held her hands in his.
"Well, it's almost 4:00 now, and I have a favor to ask of you. Kind of a big one. You can say no, but I would really appreciate it if you did it." She said, with a hopeful look.
"I'm all ears, Scully. At your beck and call. You can bend me to your will. I am your willing servant." He grins cheekily at her.
"You good?" She asked, raising her eyebrows.
He smiled and bowed his head.
"Okay. So, I stopped by my mom's house yesterday."
He squeezed her hands, knowing that she stopped by there sometimes. Mrs. Scully had left the house to Scully when she died. They were still going through the stuff at her house. Pictures, boxes of memories, old outdated clothes, furniture. All of it held meaning to Scully.
"I was walking around, looking at things. Maybe some things I'd like to move to our house. Some photos, maybe some things that could go in the babies room, I don't know. But, I found some boxes with my name on them. I don't know what's in them and I didn't want to lift them. But, Mulder, I'd like to have them and see what is inside." She smiled a sad smile and he touched her cheek.
"You want me to stop over and get them for you? That's not a problem at all Scully. Whatever you need."
"Thanks. I really appreciate it. I think there are like five, maybe six at most. I'm pretty sure they will all fit in your car."
"Well, if they don't I can make another trip. If it makes you happy Scully, then I'm happy to do it." He cupped her face and kissed her, then pulled her in for a hug.
"Oh, I need to get you the key," she said as she pulled back, her eyes a little wet.
"No need, I have one," he said showing it to her on his key ring.
"When did you get a key?" She asked surprised that he had one. Usually if he went, he was with her and she used hers.
"Your mom gave me one years ago," he said. "Didn't you know that she did? I guess it was in case she needed something or.. if I did. To talk or just visit." He looked sad and she pulled him to her.
They held each other, both with their own memories of her, but both mourning a mother. One from birth, the other from respect and then love.
She pulled back and kissed his cheek. She let go of him and walked back to the hospital. She turned and looked at him just before she walked inside and smiled.
A while later, he pulled up to 's house. He sat in the car, at the curb, and stared at it. He had not been completely honest with Scully. Coming here was not really something he liked to do, especially by himself. It made him sad. Made him feel sadness in a different way than being in his own parents homes.
He had had to deal with his parents estates when they passed. A lot of the items he donated, some he put in storage, but anytime he was there, he could not wait to leave. Too many unhappy ghosts running around in the house to make him feel any ease.
Scully had come with him a couple times years ago. Helped him sort through which things he would keep. Most of the time he had just shrugged his shoulders and she made a guess. He did not have memories tied to items like Scully did. His memories were dark and mostly sad, not exactly something that would look nice hanging on a wall.
But being here, at Mrs. Scully's, he had felt the love he had missed out on as a child. Felt accepted and his presence was welcomed. He stared at the house and told himself to stop being such a pussy. He got out of the car and walked to the front door.
The air inside the house was stale and warm. He hated it. It felt wrong. Mrs. Scully's house always smelled inviting, welcoming. A floral smell that was never too heavy. He stood in the foyer, looking into the sitting room.
He had paced that room when Scully had been missing. He had shown up at odd hours, unable to sleep, to concentrate on anything but finding her. Mrs. Scully always let him in, no matter the time. She sat in her chair and listened to him rant, watched him pace. She did not try to offer him comfort, not at first. He needed to let it out and she knew he needed it.
He would eventually tire out and fall to the floor, crying, apologizing to her. She never yelled, never got angry with him. She would come to him and hold him as he cried. She would murmur her comfort then. Offer her strength to him, but he never accepted it. This was his punishment and he deserved it. If his past taught him anything, it was how to take on the pain and suffering. How to accept the punishment.
He stepped further into the room and stood exactly where he had when Scully was suffering from mind control. When she thought he was the enemy. Mrs. Scully had stood by his side and then in front of him. Protecting him, as well as Scully. If Scully had shot him, Mulder knew she would have never forgiven herself. Her mother knew that, too. She knew that offering herself in Mulder's place would be enough to give Scully pause. To make her give up, to see reason.
He felt tears in his eyes as he remembered the image of Mrs. Scully walking to Scully and holding her as she crumbled. That image is burned in his mind forever. The power of a mother's love.
He kept walking in further. The dining room table where they had had so many meals. Where they played Scrabble. Mrs. Scully laughing as he and Scully got into an argument over acceptable words. She would drink a glass of wine and watch them bicker until one of them would cave and move on.
The kitchen where Mrs. Scully made the most delicious food. Always had enough to feed an army, making sure Mulder had as much as he wanted, and sending them home with leftovers, every time. That food had been his sustenance when Scully was at the hospital, working long shifts. He would come out of his office, starving from missing meals as he pored over articles. Finding plasticware full of delicious food had kept him going. His heart ached as he realized, he never properly thanked her for that.
He walked back toward the front door and up the stairs. The upstairs bathroom held a special memory. He had come up there to escape Bill one year. Bill had been poking at him all night. Jabs about his job at the FBI, or his past one, seeing as he did not have a job anymore. How was Mulder going to provide for his sister? What was his plan?
Scully had jumped in and told Bill to shut his fucking mouth. That she was a doctor and she did not need anyone to "take care of her." That she had not needed that for years. Bill had yelled back that she was wasting her life with a fucking loser like Mulder. And then Scully had slapped him. Hard.
Mulder had quietly slipped away, catching Mrs. Scully's eye. Not because he was scared or weak, but because he did not want to cause a problem in her home. He wanted to punch Bill in the face and he knew coming upstairs was a better choice. He was pacing in the bathroom when someone knocked three times. Scully.
He opened the door and she shoved her way in. Her eyes were blazing and she was angrier than he had ever seen her. She paced and then grabbed him and pulled his face to hers. She kissed him roughly. Teeth and tongues clashing. She pushed him back and hopped up on the counter. She pulled him to her and locked her legs around him. She looped her arms around his neck and pulled him back to her. He had rounded second and was going for third, when someone else knocked on the door.
Mrs. Scully's voice came through the door telling them it was time for dessert. Mulder waggled his eyebrows at Scully and she grinned. She called to her mother they would be down in a minute. Mulder helped her down. As she stepped past him, she brushed her fingers over his crotch, making him jump. She whispered she would take care of that later and began to readjust her clothes. Getting her breasts back in her bra, tucking in her shirt, smoothing down her hair.
They walked downstairs and to Mulder's surprise, Bill was still there. His cheek was very red which Mulder found highly amusing. He sat at the table and Mrs. Scully brought him a piece of cobbler. He noticed it was a bit larger than Bill's and he looked up at her. She glanced at him and then rubbed his back.
His fondness for her grew in that moment. She was telling him once again, that he was welcome, he did belong there, and she knew how much he cared for Scully. That he was enough.
He felt his breathing pick up, almost like a panic attack when he heard his phone beep. He jumped and cursed. The past meeting the present, as he saw a text from Scully:
"I realized I didn't tell you which room the boxes are in. The first bedroom to the right, top of the stairs. They are in the closet. Thank you again for doing this for me. I know you don't like going over there much, especially on your own. Too many ghosts huh? But I appreciate it. Thank you Mulder."
He smiled as he read her message. So she knew. He did not have to tell her, she just knew. Of course she did, it should not surprise him. His phone beeped again. Scully again:
"Big, small, and every way in between, Mulder."
He grinned and sent one back to her:
"Bring home some earplugs."
He put his phone away and closed the bathroom door. He went into the first bedroom and saw the boxes in the closet. Scully was right. There were five of them. She had failed to mention one thing though. Not only did they have her name on them, but his as well. "Dana and Fox" in Mrs. Scully's handwriting.
These must be from when they were first hiding out, laying low, fugitives from the law. He never really thought about what happened back home. His main thought was for Scully's safety, then his own. He did not think that people were back home, taking care of things. Packing and making sure their combined homes were seen to. Obviously, Mrs. Scully was there, making sure these boxes were safe. Keeping them all these years, never asking for the closet space back.
He touched the boxes where her handwriting was, their names boldly written across it. Too much. It was too much. He dropped to his knees on the floor, his head against the boxes and he wept. Deep wracking sobs.
Two and a half years had passed since she died and it hit him like a ton of bricks in that moment. She was gone. The mother he never deserved but who never gave up on him. Always accepted him. Always loved him. The woman who went out of her way to get him wonderful birthday and Christmas gifts. The woman who trusted him to hold her daughter's heart and did not hate him when he broke it.
He wept knowing that she would never know they had found William. That they had stood in a gas station and watched Scully on a surveillance tape, having a conversation with him, but unaware it was him. That Mulder had tracked him down, held him.. and then they saved him. Together they worked to bring their boy to them. He could no longer think. It was too much. He just let the tears fall.
He had no idea how long he knelt there, but he felt drained and at peace simultaneously. He staggered off his knees and looked at the boxes again. He put his hand on the top one and whispered, "thank you" before taking the first box down the stairs. Up and down he went until they were all in the foyer.
Then back and forth he went until they were all in the car. He came back and stood in the foyer again. He closed his eyes and he could hear Scully's laugh ring out at some crazy thing he had said. Mrs. Scully's laugh answered hers. He could smell the floral smell of the house, the wine they drank, the food they ate.
He opened his eyes and the air was still again, heavy. He took a deep breath and turned to leave. He looked back and once again pictured her standing there, between him and Scully. Their protector. The mother he never expected, but the one he had always needed.
"Thank you.. mom," he said quietly. His words hanging thickly in the heavy air.
He walked out the door and locked it behind him. He got in the car, buckled in, and looked to make sure there was no traffic coming.
He looked in the rear view mirror and for a second he could swear he saw her standing there on the porch, waving goodbye like she had done hundreds of times. When he turned his head, the porch was empty. He checked his mirror again and it was still empty. But he knew what he saw. He saw her smiling at him and waving. Her eyes shining with happiness.
He smiled, but felt a lump in his throat. He looked at the boxes and realized something. He was not just bringing "things" home with him. It was love. The love they had shared in her apartment. The love Mrs. Scully had put into keeping these items safe. The love Scully had for not wanting to part with this house just yet. Needing to keep her mom close to her still. His love, for coming over and facing his feelings even if he did not like it. His love for Scully would make him walk through fire. Whatever was in these boxes, already held a special place in his heart.
One last glance in the rear view mirror and he took off. His heart felt light and happy. He rolled the windows down and let the breeze blow through the car. He turned left and headed for home, bringing love to his love.