-SCULLY- 25

I laid in my bed, staring at the ceiling, but not really seeing it. All I could see was the look on Mulder's face when he promised me, when I promised him. He was so sincere, so desperate for me to believe him. It was so cute the way he looked like a begging puppy, with his big eyes and frown, 'begging' for me to believe him. And I did. After all, I was a sucker for puppies.

I wanted him to still be holding him. I wanted his large, protecting arms around me, keeping me warm, keeping me safe. I felt comfortable in his arms, like they were engineered for the sole purpose for me to fit in them. It was like the way his hand fit on the small of my back. We just fit together. The hope that we always would was the last thought in my mind as I drifted into a sleep in which Mulder wandered my dreams.

I woke up the next morning, rejuvenated and filled to the brim with Mulder's love. I laid in bed and woke up leisurely, wondering but not really caring why my mother hadn't woken me. I replayed last night in my head. We had talked; we had hugged each other, simply holding one another. I would be satisfied if I could just stay in his arms forever. I had broken down and we had promised undying love to the other. He had carried me up the stairs after I had almost fallen asleep standing up. He had laid me in my bed, whispered "I love you", kissed my forehead, turned and left my room. Always the gentlemen.

I stretched and slowly crawled out of my bed, walking downstairs to the kitchen. I blinked when I saw my mother sitting at the bar and inwardly groaned. Please not another lecture. I'm too happy.

"Dana, I'm glad you're up," she said, sipping her tea from a small mug.

"Why is that? You didn't give me that daily ten thirty wake up call." I said, pouring myself some water and then sitting across from her.

"I figured I'd let you sleep in considering you and Fox had somewhat of a late night last night," she said, not looking at me. Oh no. She was deliberately not looking into my eyes. That was never a good sign. My mother always looked directly into your eyes when she spoke to you. When she didn't, it was disappointment or anger. I was sensing a little of both. "No excuses? You're not going to try to explain why you weren't in your bed at one AM? You're not going to try to ease my mind?" She asked hotly, and had we been maintaining eye contact, I'm sure I would have seen some hostility glistening in her brown eyes. Maybe it was a lot of both anger and disappointment.

"We were just talking, Mom," I said, trying and failing to soothe her growing anger.

"I heard you talking! I heard you talking about, about," my mother spluttered, searching for the right words. I knew what she was trying to say. I really wasn't ready to discuss with her my sexual life, even if it didn't incriminate me.

"Mom, please don't. I'm sorry I never told you. It's just not who I am," I said, wanting to get this over with as soon as humanly possible.

"It's not who you are, Dana? Then who are you? My daughter would have told me about this. Who are you? I know you've always been the strong one; always relying on yourself, not entirely trusting people, always keeping your guard up. I know you're not the kind of person who likes to discuss when she's hurt or in pain. But Dana, you're not Superwoman. If you can't rely on me, who can you rely on?"

My mother finally looked at me, and although I was wishing she would, as soon as her eyes met mine, I wished she hadn't. She had been crying. Her eyes were bloodshot and so puffy they were almost slits. She looked awful. I don't know if there's anything scarier to a child than the sight of their parents crying. Parents are supposed to make things better, and if you see them crying, it's like the world is ending. If they're crying, who's going to make them feel better?

'I just couldn't tell you. I'm so sorry," I began.

"What are you sorry about, Dana? Sorry that I found out like this or sorry that I found at all," She asked angrily, tears falling from her eyes. "This is a mother's worst nightmare. Not just what happened to you, but that you didn't feel like you could tell me."

"Nothing I can say will make this better. I think that the only reason you're really upset is because I told Mulder and not you. You resent him." I said accusingly, knowing that no matter how much my mother loved Mulder, she did resent him slightly.

"I do not! Don't try to pin this on Fox! I am upset with you right now," my mother said, denial in her eyes and in her voice. She was not very good at hiding her emotions and it was almost a shock to see such a blatant display when Mulder and I kept ours hidden away.

"I am not trying to shift the blame anywhere! I know you're mad at me, but I can't help it if I didn't want to tell you. You wouldn't understand," I said looking down as I spoke the words that break a mother's heart. I couldn't bear to see the pain on her face. It would be exactly the amount she was feeling because she hid nothing, and I wasn't sure I could handle everything. I had only said it so that she would leave me alone. I didn't want to get into this with my mother any more than I had wanted to get into this with Mulder.

"Then help me understand. Don't leave me in the dark, Dana," she said, trying to hide the pain that was etched in every wrinkle on her mother's kind face. The crow's feet at the corners of her eyes, the wrinkles at the corners of her mouth, and the top of her forehead held onto the pain that she felt. I hated myself for saying that to her.

"Maybe that's where you belong, Mom," I said, turning and running up the stairs before I could see the weight of the creases' pain swell.