Part One of 25 Days of Ficmas
Christmas Eve 1995
Scully let out a deep breath as she lay in her childhood bedroom, wide awake and unable to sleep. Everyone had gone to bed nearly an hour ago and she had been tossing and turning since then. She had been crying too, as she thought about Melissa, missing her presence greatly.
Christmas had always been special to them. Missy had nearly always snuck into Scully's room and woken her, laughing softly and taking her hand as they quietly went down the stairs. Missy had been incredibly talented at unwrapping presents, without tearing the paper, to see what they would be opening in a few hours; Scully then carefully rewrapping them.
They would silently then go back up the stairs, tripping on their nightgowns as they had hurried to Missy's room to whisper about their gifts, inevitably falling asleep, warm and happy to be sharing that moment together.
As they had gotten older, gifts were bypassed, wanting to keep the moment of unwrapping a surprise. Instead, they had hit the liquor cabinet, drinking and laughing quietly as they had gotten buzzed. They had drunk and eaten elaborately decorated Christmas cookies and treats, arranging the remaining ones on the plates so it hopefully had not looked like they had eaten so many.
Years passed and Missy had then been on her own life journey while Scully followed her own career path, not seeing each other as often. Some Christmases had been missed, the feeling not the same, but good enough.
Last year, they had celebrated the memory of her father and now this year…
Pushing the covers back, she stood up and paced the room, wiping at her tears as she looked at the bathroom door that connected her to Melissa's room. She was not on the other side of it, nor would she ever be again. Bill and Tara were sleeping there. Charlie, Renee, and Brandon asleep in Charlie's old room.
It was different, difficult, and heartbreaking, and she knew tomorrow would be hard.
Putting on her robe, she opened her door quietly, looking down the dark hall, and felt her way to the stairs, hearing sounds of sleeping as she passed by the doors. Snores and deep breaths were left behind as she followed the soft glow from the fireplace and the lights from the Christmas tree into the living room.
She could see that the snow was still falling steadily, the ground thick with it, as she glanced at the dining room window. The couch was empty and she frowned as she walked past it and into the kitchen where a bright light was beckoning.
Her feet, in thick socks, kept her steps silent as she walked up behind him standing in front of the refrigerator.
"Hey," she said softly and he jumped, turning around to look at her.
"Jesus Christ, you scared me," he hissed, taking a deep breath and letting it out.
"It's not exactly polite to take that name in vain, especially on Christmas morning, Mulder," she said with a slight smile.
"Hmm," he said, closing the refrigerator doors, the room now lit only by a small light her mother always kept on near the phone.
"Having trouble sleeping?"
"Yeah. You?"
"Me? It's what… 12:30?" he asked, looking at the clock on the wall. "That's like mid-afternoon to me." He smiled and she nodded. "You okay?"
"I don't know," she said honestly, letting out a sigh. "I was just thinking about Missy. It's…"
"I understand," he said, nodding and exhaling a deep breath. She stared at him and he smiled softly, her eyes filling with tears. "Hey…"
He pulled her to him and held her close as she cried quietly into his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist. She felt his hand in her hair, his fingers rubbing softly at her neck as she cried harder. He whispered to her, apologizing and shushing her quietly, rocking gently as he continued to run his fingers through her hair.
A couple of minutes and she released her grip on him, stepping back and wiping her face. Seeing the wet mark on his shirt, she touched it and apologized.
"It's nothing, Scully." He held her wrist lightly, his thumb rubbing gently. She nodded and dropped her hand, as he released his hold at the same moment.
"I'm glad you're here," she said, taking in a breath. "Even if it wasn't exactly your plan for the evening."
"Only the part about needing to stay over, the weather obviously having other plans for me leaving after dinner." He looked out the kitchen window with a smile and she nodded, glancing at the window herself and watching the snow falling.
"When we lived in San Diego, it was never a white Christmas like we had once we moved here," she said quietly. "Well, once we had it, when we went up to Big Bear. It was fun and we spent so much time outside, making snowmen, having snowball fights. My parents stayed inside, drinking hot buttered rum, which always sounded so good when I was younger, but I have learned it is not."
"I agree with you on that," he said with a shiver and she laughed softly with a nod.
"We would come in all cold and pink cheeked, the heat from the fire stinging our faces, but happy and carefree." She shook her head and sighed, looking down and then back at him. He smiled and she sighed again. "You want a piece of pie or something?"
"Sure," he answered. "Tea?"
"Yeah, but let's warm the water in the microwave. It's not as loud as the tea kettle."
They worked together, taking mugs, plates and utensils out quietly, and sitting down to a small slice of pumpkin pie and a mug of tea. She took a small bite and closed her eyes, shaking her head again.
Mulder's hand covered hers and she looked up at him. He smiled, squeezing her hand gently.
"The first Christmas after Samantha disappeared, we didn't have any decorations, not anything. My mother was in bed, crying all the time, my father drinking a lot or at work for long hours. I was alone a lot of the time. It was very hard."
"I know it was," she whispered, biting her lip to stop her tears, but they fell anyway, sliding hotly down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry you went through that, Mulder." She squeezed his hand and he nodded, before letting go.
She gave up eating the pie when it kept sticking thickly in her throat, feeling as though it would choke her, pushing it toward Mulder to eat. She drank the nighttime tea, hoping it would help her sleep.
Picking up their plates, he put them in the sink and they took their mugs of tea to the living room. Looking at the couch, she smiled.
"You know this couch pulls out into a bed, right?" she asked and he tilted his head.
"I did not know that," he admitted and she laughed softly.
"Did you not wonder why my mother gave you the pillows, a blanket, and sheets?"
"Honestly, I hadn't looked through it all," he said with a shrug and she nodded. Setting her mug down, he did the same, and they took off the couch cushions, setting them aside and out of the way.
"It sticks a little," she said as he reached to pull the bed out. "Give it a hard tug."
"I could make a joke there," he said and she chuckled softly. "But it's Christmas and I've already been blasphemous. Don't want a lump of coal in my stocking."
He tugged hard and the bed rolled out with a loud creak. They both looked toward the stairs and then he carefully pulled the metal leg of the frame out and set the bed down.
She picked up and shook out the bottom sheet. He grabbed a side, both of them making the bed together, the top sheet and blanket added next. She tossed the pillows onto it and he nodded his thanks.
Picking up his mug, he sat down on the floor, leaning against the bed as she sat cross legged on it with her own mug. Looking at the tree, she smiled sadly, once more thinking about Missy.
"Tell me more about Christmas in the Scully household," he said and she hummed, drinking the last of her tea and setting the mug on the side table.
Grabbing a pillow, she laid down at the foot of the bed, the fire low but still warm. He glanced at her with a smile and she smiled back, closing her eyes and telling him of Christmas mornings and traditions.
"Auntie Dana. Auntie Dana."
Scully opened her eyes to early morning light and found Brandon inches from her face. She smiled and closed her eyes, stretching and pushing into her pillow.
"Auntie Dana. Wake up. Santa was here!" Brandon said excitedly and she opened her eyes again.
"Santa was here? What did you get?" she asked and started to sit up, keeping the blanket wrapped around her as she yawned, watching him playing with a fire truck.
The other pillow was beside hers, but Mulder was not there, though she knew he had been. She remembered the creak of the springs when he had laid down and his quiet goodnight, then his soft breathing when she had shifted.
She wondered if he had woken very early and left, driving home through the thick snow, not wanting to push into her family gathering. But then she heard his laughter coming from the kitchen and she smiled, happy he was still there. As she watched Brandon, she drew in a deep breath as she suddenly remembered something else from last night.
An odd dream had left her crying in her sleep, lashing out until hands had held hers gently, fingers rubbing softly, and she heard Mulder's voice. She had fallen back to sleep, his nearness and voice calming her.
Smiling at Brandon, she yawned again and got off the couch, unwrapping herself and retying her robe before smoothing down her hair. She put the couch back together, Brandon helping her as he found it extremely interesting that the bed could be hidden inside of it.
As they were finishing, the blankets and pillows stacked in the corner, the adults came out of the kitchen. Charlie and Renee followed by her mother and Mulder, each of them with a mug in their hands. Bill and Tara were obviously still sleeping.
"Well, good morning sleepyhead," Charlie said, hugging her and laughing. "Merry Christmas. It never fails to amaze me how you can sleep through things going on around you."
"Ha ha," she said, pulling from his embrace with a smile. "Comes in handy at times." She said Merry Christmas to the others, hugging her mother and then turned to Mulder.
He handed her a mug, as she then realized he had been carrying two. Smelling the Irish cream in hers, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Opening them, she saw his smile as he raised his eyebrows. She nodded and took a sip, the liquid warm as it went down her throat.
"Good?" he asked quietly and she knew he meant more than the coffee.
"Yeah. I'm good," she whispered, taking another drink.
"Good," he said and took a drink of his own coffee.
"Merry Christmas!" Bill said loudly as he walked into the room, Scully turning to return his greeting. He eyed Mulder and his expression changed, but he said nothing.
Continuing into the kitchen for his own coffee, Tara followed, squeezing Scully's arm gently as she passed. Mulder sighed as he placed his hand on Scully's back and they walked to the couch, Mulder taking a seat as she sat beside him.
"Merry Christmas," he said softly and she nodded, clinking her mug to his.
"Thank you," she said, holding his eyes and once again saying more than the two simple words.
"Yeah," he whispered with a nod and a soft smile of understanding.
"Can we make a snowman, Daddy?" Brandon asked.
"Let's open presents first, buddy. And have some breakfast. Then we can, okay?" Charlie laughed.
"Okay!"
Scully smiled as she looked toward the dining room window and saw the snow still falling. Closing her eyes, she could picture Missy hurrying to put on her boots, wanting to be the first out in the fresh snow, her footprints the only ones there before everyone else followed.
Taking a deep breath, tears stinging her eyes, she saw her. Falling into the snow, laying on her back, her arms and legs moving back and forth as she made a perfect snow angel, the snow falling down silently as she laughed and laughed.