Resurrecting
the Past to Protect the Future
AN: dumb
title sorry working on it. Ok takes
place during season eight hopefully you can tell when. More Chapters to come. I don't own any characters so far I may
bring my little medical assistant man in cause he's hot…jk Oh also I have other pieces in Scully pov
about various events in the eighth season that I am hoping to work in thus
creating an inside look on various important seen and unseen moments in x-files
history. If you like this tell me. If you don't like it tell me. May I also recommend The Truth we both knew
and The Truth is right here. Well read
on and tell me what you think.
Chapter one…Resurrecting the Past (Scully
POV)
I still can't believe he's
back. But I'm sitting here watching him
sleep in that hospital bed. The scene
is all too familiar and for the fiftieth time at least I feel like I've been
here before.
Is this the kind of life I want my
child brought into?
The question passes through my head
fleetingly. It isn't important
now. All that is important is the fact
that he is really there in front of me breathing. For so long I prayed that he would take a breath and prove us all
wrong but he never did and so we had buried him. Even now I don't understand it.
How could his body have sustained the life form that was slowly taking
over without air? It defies all logical explanation. All I know is that it
did. It doesn't bother me as much as it
would have. I guess the things I've
seen in the X-files have prepared me for just about anything.
Anything but dealing with this
however. Nowhere did I learn how to
tell my best friend that I was pregnant and that the child I was carrying
didn't have a father. That he couldn't
impregnate me but that miraculously I had conceived a child.
I didn't learn how to tell him that
he'd been dead for three months either.
You can't just tell someone you buried them three months ago and then
expect everything to go back to normal…right.
Our work on the X-files might serve
to lessen the blow but it wouldn't erase it.
I remember how I felt when I had
woken up in a hospital after they had taken me. I was glad to be back but mad that they had taken so much of my
life from me.
Mulder had almost nine months of
life taken from him. I wasn't sure how
he would react to that. I wished I
could take the pain that I knew he would feel away from him. But I knew I couldn't.
My child stirred within me
reminding me that he was there. I knew
it was a boy. I don't know how I just
did and then a doctor confirmed my suspicions with an ultra sound. I don't know why it mattered so much to me,
the gender of my child, but it did. I
only wished to know how this miracle had occurred. I knew what I would call him.
It was the only thing that fit really.
Strange that after all we had been through, after all the years of
struggling to gain proof of his theories, that this child would come at this
time, in this way. We would need
something to bridge that gap between us now.
He hadn't told me about his medical problems and I had buried him
alive. To think about it was
funny. At least I hadn't autopsied his
body while he was still living.
After all the macho thinking I'd
been doing I realized that I couldn't do it.
Hard as it is to admit I couldn't perform the autopsy. Oh I denied it well into future months but
looking back I realize how I couldn't have done it.
I let my eyes wander back to his
bed as I keep my hand on my stomach.
Both boys I had grown to love. I
squeeze Mulder's hand and wish that it could have been his child growing within
me now. It would have made both of us
so happy. But little William would
still be our child even if Mulder wasn't the father. I couldn't let anyone else have the honor. It was inane and sentimental I know but lately
I've been feeling inane and sentimental. Not to mention sappy and corny. It
isn't every day your best friend is brought back to life.
I know what people think about the
two of us. They think we are some
star-crossed lovers or something Shakespearian like that but truthfully we
aren't. The love I have for him isn't
like that at all. I miss him because he
is part of me. We've worked together
for seven years this last would have made it eight. Both of us live our job.
Sad to say we have no other lives besides it; pretend as we may that we
do. I saw him more then I saw my
landlord, my mother, my priest, and my mailman all put together. I've slept in a hotel more then I've slept
in my own bed. We've never been apart
for longer then a week excluding my abduction and recently the problems that he
has had. We each carry a key to each
other's apartments. Our phones are on
speed dial. I don't love him because he
is my mate. I love him because he is my
friend and my partner. He is my equal.
It isn't the same, I'm sure it isn't the same.
It's no use cataloging it in my
head it just confuses me more. We have
something so complex I don't know if anyone could sort it out.
As my eyes dance once again across his features I realize I
don't want him to wake up yet. I'm not
ready to do what has to be done and he looks so peaceful sleeping there, my
hand in his, where it ought to be.
I'm all he has left, I realize.
It's no wonder there is no one here
but me. His crusade has cost him
everything. Strange that this thought
does not disturb me like it should. The
room is too peaceful to have anything shake me like it should. That in it's self is odd.
But he stirs anyway. I knew that eventually he would. He squeezes my hand back and I lean over to
see him better. He jokes with me and I
can't help but smile back. He always
could make me smile. I missed that the
most I think, that and his constant presence in the room, his towering over me
like a giant defender.
I used to tell him I hated it when
he worried or treated me like I needed protecting. A part of me would get so angry that he couldn't treat me like
his equal in that matter. But when it
was gone I missed it. I missed all the
subtle gestures like his hand on the small of my back leading me into a room or
the way he always had my back. I missed
how he used to bait me with every case, I realized I'd come to love the little
clues he'd dangle in front of me willing me to make my own theory leaving out the
one clue that would change everything.
I missed the lighthearted repartee, the sarcasm, and yes I even missed
the dang sunflower seeds.
We both masked the gravity of the
moment in humor. Reality could wait
till tomorrow right now we had each other and that was all we needed. I'm sure he saw the roundness of my stomach
but he ignored it. He knew I knew his
secret but I ignored it. I wouldn't
have done it for anyone else. I wasn't
going to do it, even for him, but something in his eyes warned me not to go
there. I knew that our journey back
wasn't going to be pleasant.
Both of us hurt but in that moment
we were what we used to be, Mulder and Scully, Mr. & Mrs. Spooky, jokes of
the FBI, and annoyances to our superiors.
It was if the whole awful nightmare hadn't occurred. I saw then what we could have been. I don't know if that's what we will be. A part of me dares to hope we can go back to
that. The more sensible half says those
days are over. There is too much
between us now. Broken bridges and bad
water run where once our relationship flourished.
Even now the moment fades and we
become awkward around each other fumbling over sentences and gestures. Tripping over our own feet. It hurts more then I thought possible.
Maybe it is for the best.
I thought I had closed this chapter in my life and now here he is living
and breathing and even speaking. I hate
the uncertainty. I wish he'd pull me to
him and tell me everything would be fine. In the old days he'd hug me and kiss
my forehead, now we could only look at each other and joke. Even when both of us just wanted to hold
each other.
Why did every thing have to be so
d--- complicated?
He must have seen the fire in my
eyes, for his grip on my hand got stronger as if he was asking me for
time. His eyes seemed to echo the fear
in my heart that we wouldn't be able to cross this gap together. They seemed to ring with the pain that
clutched at my very soul. It was
unbearable this looking but not touching.
This cat and mouse game we were playing with our eyes.
I don't know how it happened but suddenly I was in his arms. It felt like it had been an eternity. But his embrace was unlike anything between
us before. There was something about it
that left me feeling…different in a good sort of way. Maybe it was the longing for each other's company that made it
feel singular. We'd been apart so long
that maybe this was just better for that reason.
He pulled me closer still and I
climbed up on the bed with him.
(Hospital beds are small for one person; try fitting three.) I fell asleep
with my head against his chest and his arm around my shoulder once more my
defender.
