Эта Любовь
"This Love"
The basement door swung open with a soft creak; Mulder stepped through, his arms laden with a teetering box of files. "Gonna have to get some graphite," he muttered as he kicked the door shut behind him. He paused momentarily, glancing over at Scully before continuing on to his desk.
"Doesn't that bother you, Scully?" he asked. The question seemed to startle her; she looked up at him quickly, then away and back again.
"I'm…sorry, Mulder – did you say something?" she asked.
His eyes narrowed at her and he put the stack of folders down on the edge of the desk. "You okay, Scully?" Mulder pulled his chair around his desk and sat down heavily. Interrogation mode, she thought. "Something on your mind?" He casually reached over to a file and began leafing through the contents, without really looking at them. That's right, casual…best not to spook the witness…just let them talk in their own time…
She almost smiled. She had done a six week rotation in psychiatry, she knew what he was up to; his mode was crude, but his heart was in the right place. And true, she had been off her game…it would take an idiot not to notice…and Mulder was no idiot.
He just wasn't particularly skilled in reading the female mind, is all.
She knew she wouldn't get away with it, but it was worth a shot, "I'm…fine, Mulder."
He looked over at her as his hand hovered over the box, "Scully…come on," he clasped his hands together and leaned forward in the chair, "something is up…aaaand, if you can't talk to me…who can you – no, scratch that." He sat back in his chair and stretched his long legs in front of him – settling in, she thought – "Who will you talk to?" he finished.
Pursing her lips, she took a deep breath…she looked at her partner, the guy she'd been assigned to for almost five years ostensibly in order to debunk his work … Whom she'd come to trust more than anyone outside of her family in those five years…and imagined herself spilling it all; the whole sordid ordeal. Well, see…uh, Mulder…I've been…ah, in communication, you could say, with…ah, well…he's someone you actually know! Actually, he's, ah…he's a former partner of yours…and I mean, at one time, I think you actually thought there might be hope for him at the Bureau…well, ah…What's that? His name? Wait – Mulder, no one said anything about Krycek…just ah – no, Mulder you won't be able to find him to kill him because he's ah…he's probably already deep underground-…
Yeah… not going to happen.
"I'm sorry, Mulder…," she gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, "I'm…just burning out I guess." Scully took in another deep breath; let it out slowly, "I'm thinking…I'm thinking of taking some personal time, Mulder." She searched his face to gauge his reaction; he looked thoughtful rather than argumentative. That was a good start. "I…haven't taken any vacation since …since I visited my cousin and it's almost Christmas… I just…" she let her voice trail off, hoping he wouldn't prod her for anything else. She wasn't sure she could give it.
Mulder stared at a spot on the floor just in front of her feet as if lost in thought. Without warning he rose quickly from his seat and plunged into the box of files. "Yeah…uh, I think that's a good idea, Scully…" He pulled one out and turned to not quite look at her, "You do that; I'll hold down the fort here."
She looked up at him quickly but he was either avoiding her glance, or he had an insatiable need to scan the open folder in his hands, "I…uhm," she stood up then, too, "I will then." She filled her pockets in silence, picked up her briefcase and slipped her purse over her shoulder. As she approached the door, she said without turning around, "I'll be at my mother's house, Mulder…if you need me."
She walked out without another word.
"Dana, dear, I didn't expect to see you until this weekend," her mother's voice was kind but her eyes were tinged with sadness. It had been a long year, waiting and watching through her daughter's illness when the freshness of another daughter's death hadn't quite healed over yet. "This is a lovely surprise…"
Her mother stood to the side and held the door while Scully pulled her bag through the door. She placed a hand on her back and welcomed her for a hug before she even closed the night air out. "This is a lovely surprise…" she murmured into her hair.
"I wanted to get some extra time in, mom…help you out with the dinner prep this year." They left the bag forgotten for the moment in the foyer and went into the kitchen where the smell of coffee made Scully's stomach take notice. "Mmm – smells heavenly – can I have a cup?" she asked lightly. She took a seat at the counter and allowed her mother to mother her for the time being; allowed herself to enjoy the sight of her ambling around the kitchen like an old pro pressed into service after years of retirement. Scully studied her mom's movements in awed silence.
So many years… spent at this counter, in this house…happy and secure in the love and guidance of this woman. So many days and hours and minutes of precious time that she'd looked back on now as a sort of blurred whirlwind of activity the individual moments of which she couldn't begin to recall. She was…happy. Her family was a happy family…a normal family with normal problems and such…mundane concerns.
How had their lives spun so psychotically out of control in the span of a few short years?
Her mother turned and placed the cup in front of her and started. "Dana…what's the matter, honey?" Scully realized only then that tears were blopping in front of her on the counter.
"I'm…sorry…Mom – I-" Her mother reached a tissue from some inexplicable 'mom-place' and held it out to her. She took it gratefully and dabbed her eyes, buying time to get herself under control. "My work… Mother – it's… I feel as if it's buried our family under so much suffering… I'm sorry…" but she couldn't continue.
Her mom moved quickly around the counter and pulled Scully into a furious hug, "Dana… I've never told you this…but I used to worry so much about your father when he'd ship out. I'd endure many long months waiting for a letter from him… some word that he was okay and even though he couldn't tell me everything he told me enough to ensure that he was alive and that he'd come back to me… 'come hell or high water' – he'd say."
Her mother's voice had husked and she stroked her hair gently, soothingly. "I always accepted the life and the risks involved…because at sea he was excellent and I was best at loving him and supporting him and this family… I knew that; and I never felt…lacking. Not once."
She pulled back and looked into Scully's eyes, "I had never felt the same about your…what you do." She hesitated and took a deep breathe before going on, "I wanted so much more for you, Dana… you're empathetic and caring and you work through a problem until you, by God, find the answer." Her mother smiled that sad-eyed smile, "When your sister died… I saw a piece of you die with her, too. And I worried… I worried about what your work was taking from you, bit by bit. I worried about your …about Fox…and your relationship with him…" Her eyes filled and she stopped. They both sat silently waiting, poised almost.
"I didn't want his fight to become yours. I wanted you…to take back yourself…and to find something better." She swiped at the tears in her eyes with the back of her hand. "But when I watched you…fighting your disease… with everything you had, Dana, I knew… I knew." Her lips twitched at the effort to keep the tears from coming, "You were in your element… you were where you were supposed to be. These people that Fox speaks about, Dana…these enemies… they did that to you…and you…you never gave up. You never wavered – even if it meant that you would die. You fought back… and I'm so…I'm so proud of you. And I know that your father would be to…even if he never wanted you to join the bureau."
Her mother stood and sighed heavily, "The truth is, honey…you have become …you, through this work of yours. You are excellent at what you do… and I cannot blame you for the consequences – however extraordinary – that you think we've all suffered. You've suffered them, too. So...I am trying to become best at supporting you and what you do." She smiled, "It won't be easy to keep my peace, knowing the dangers of your job…but I won't – I can't blame you for what other people have done. You are not to blame for standing on what is right, Dana."
Scully let what her mother said seep into her; her mind quickly dredged up the moments before Alex disappeared at the airport. She reached for her mother's hand and pressed it gently. "I've hit a rough curve, mom, in…in my personal life." Her mother looked up quickly, suspicious, but she continued, "The situation is …hopeless…. I accept it…I've always accepted it, but I am torturing myself with thoughts – especially now, the holidays – with thoughts of everything that has come to ruin…in our family, in his-," she stopped. "All because of this work…that underscores every facet of our lives."
She knew her mother suspected Mulder as a source of her daughter's obvious confusion and Scully made no attempt to disabuse her of the assumption; it just felt good to talk about it, expose it to the light, even in the vaguest of terms. Especially so; she would never fully explain an Alex Krycek to herself, much less to her family. "I thought I could keep a lid on…things…on the situation, but it has recently gone beyond anything I can control…and now…I find myself blaming someone whom I know I cannot truly blame." She looked up, "Everything that has happened…I've brought it on myself."
"Oh, Dana…" her mother reached up and cupped her chin in her hand, "You don't have to control things… you just have steer yourself through them. If this…situation… is one that gives you hope, that makes life just a bit more bearable…then it shouldn't matter what stands against it. I would think, with what you see every day…well, I can hardly blame you for trying to carve out a bit of happiness in it all…"
Her mother rose from the chair and gave her a reassuring smile over her shoulder, "Besides…the most rewarding relationships usually take the most work, my love…" she winked, "Look at mothers and daughters. Now let's get your case upstairs."
Later, as she lay in her old room, tangled in the well-worn blankets of her childhood bed unable to sleep, Scully's thoughts drifted inexorably to Alex. She tried to bend her association with Alex to fit her mother's tidy observation about complicated relationships. Even as she formed the arguments in her head, she couldn't escape the truth that any reward they might gain would exact a price neither of them could pay. Rolling over, she fluffed her pillow and prepared herself for a sleepless night.
Her thoughts had crystallized on one point; the next time she crossed paths with Alex Krycek she'd make sure their break was a clean one.
