Alright, this part is more of Charlie's reflections on Scully and Mulder, and on his past. Nothing too deep, nothing to plotty—like there's going to be any plot in this thing. As a matter of fact, this is the end of the story. I don't really think there's enough here to continue with, but it really has been fun working with the characters for however short a time. Not to sound horribly stupid or anything.
Disclaimer: Oh, come on. You know it by now. If I were Chris Carter, do you think I'd be writing fan fiction? No. I'd be getting my ass in gear and putting together that second movie that we're all dying to see made.
I am utterly astounded at the show that these two put on for the world—or for me, at least. They've obviously been through so much together, and it's fairly obvious from the glances that they throw to each other and the slew of inside jokes they share. Mom had hinted at it a little, I remember that much. "Fox Mulder and your sister share a very special bond," she had reprimanded Bill once. He'd just gone off on one of his frequent "I really, really detest and loathe Mulder" rants, and Mom had rushed to the defenseless party's aid. Even if my sister's partner couldn't count my brother as a friend, he had an ally in Mom.
But the show—they seem to not want anyone to know how they feel about each other and what they've shared, platonically or otherwise. It's amazing. I've never seen it's like in my entire life. It is at once both excellent and horrible. It's excellent because at first glance, it just seems like they are two partners who have been working side by side for a prolonged period of time and have therefore become accustomed and attuned to one another's quirks. On the other hand, their act is unbelievably terrible, because anyone who knows either of them to any sort of degree would have to be severely mentally retarded in order to miss the blatant signals that the two send out.
And the signals are blatant. I don't know whether it's because they each want the other to pick up on them and make a move, or because they just don't know, or because they just can't help it. It could be one of those three things, and I'm no psychologist—I'm not exactly qualified to diagnose the strange workings of the human mind.
"So, Charlie, what do you do?" Mulder asks, leaning back in his chair with a beer in his hand. He seems quite at home in my sister's apartment, and I wonder whether or not he has a key. He is certainly more comfortable than I am here, and it's an odd feeling—this complete stranger is closer to Dana than I am.
"I'm in the Navy," I reply, running my finger along the rim of the mug containing my now-cold tea.
"Ah!" the other man exclaims, laughing. "The men in the Scully family seem to have a military bent!"
I nod. "I think it comes from our father," I reply. "Dad pounded it into us at an early age: 'The only job fit for a man is one serving his country.'"
"Well it seems as though one of his daughters picked up on it, too," Mulder says, gesturing towards Dana. She blushes as red as her hair and—sticks her tongue out at him? Wait a minute. My sister does not stick her tongue out at people. Not for the past twenty years or so! What the hell?
I get past my confusion, though, and am able to respond to Mulder's comment. "Yeah, well, Dad wasn't too happy that Dana chose to go serve her country."
"When I told him I was going to give up my career in medicine to join the FBI, I thought he was going to disown me," Dana says, making her first contribution to the conversation in over five minutes.
I remember that day. I was afraid that Dad was going to disown her, too. Mom had just sat back and let it all play out—I guess she understood Dad better than the rest of us, and she knew that nothing was going to happen to Dana where family was concerned, but I was petrified for her. It had been at Thanksgiving, one of the few that I had got off to attend with my family, and in the middle of dinner, Dana had just come out with it.
"I'm leaving med school," she'd said. "I'm going to join the FBI."
She'd gone on to justify it, blathering on and on about how they could use her services, about how medical school was leaving her unsatisfied and how she wanted more in life. I think that Bill was getting ready to blow a vessel in his brain, he was that angry. Dad just looked at her over his plate of turkey, unable to believe what he was hearing. But he slowly turned as deep red as the cranberry sauce on his plate, and I thought he was going to explode.
Melissa immediately rushed to Dana's side in the matter, supporting her through the following confrontation. Those two, growing up together, had bonded in a way that Bill and I never had. Perhaps girls are just more open to friendship than boys are, I don't know, but they always shared something that I could never find with my brother. He was always too much like Dad, too controlling, too angry. It's difficult to include someone like that in your life without trying to kill them.
I drift back to the present to find Mulder looking at me and Dana in amusement. She still has a far-off look on her face, and I figure that we've both been reliving the same unpleasant day in our minds. I cough slightly, and my sister blinks, then refocuses on reality.
"Sorry," she apologizes to the rest of us. "It's…kind of a vivid day."
"I know exactly what you mean," I agree vehemently. Mulder laughs.
"Wow," he says, grinning. "I don't think I've had that kind of family drama in my entire life. You two certainly have more interesting back stories than I do."
My sister shoots him a 'you know that isn't true' look, and I find myself wondering what, exactly, this young man has done to lose his entire family. What was it that Dana had said? His sister and his father and his mother? Jesus. Does he have anyone left?
Well, he seems to have Dana. And it sort of comforts me, in a rather perverse and morbid way, to know that, if Bill and Mom and I were to die tomorrow, Dana would still have someone looking out for her. Someone to love her as much as we do. Perverse and morbid, but hey—it's the idea, the thought that counts.
A silence has fallen over the room as we each sink into our own little worlds. Mulder swigs his beer and stares off into the distance, and my sister traces the pattern on her tea mug and studies the surface of the coffee table. I don't know what either of them are thinking about, but if what Bill and Mom have told me is true, then it's probably got something to do with government conspiracy, or stuff like that. I really, really don't want to get involved. I'll be the first to admit that I'm a simple guy—I enjoy life's pleasures, without all those complications that getting involved in a fight for the truth would probably include.
Mulder clears his throat. "So," he says awkwardly. "Is there a Mrs. Charlie Scully?"
I laugh. "Oh, no. Navy, remember? I'm not in the same place for long enough to visit my own sister, let alone strike up any kind of solid relationship with anyone. And the women onboard my ship are too professional to get involved with one of their coworkers."
Dana and Mulder both flush and seem to be doing their best to avoid looking at one another. Have I misjudged the situation? Have they actually slept together? Again, I'm completely astounded by how utterly complex the relationship between the two of them is. If they have had sex, they probably haven't mentioned it since. Not exactly a healthy way to go about it.
Dana brushes a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Totally unprofessional," she mutters, biting her lip. Mulder seems as though he is attempting to memorize the surface of his beer, a feat that I would deem impossible if attempted by someone of less concentration.
After a bit of an awkward pause (during which I am cursing myself for bringing the subject up even in the most abstract way) my sister clears her throat and looks up at me. "So, Charlie, how long are you in town?"
"Just four days or so," I reply. "Then I'm shipping out again. South America."
"Well, do you have a place to stay?" she wants to know. I shrug.
"I was just going to rent a room in one of the nearby hotels. My stuff's all in the car—I was going to drive over after we'd gotten a chance to talk for a while."
"Well, why don't you stay here?" Dana suggests. "I can make up the couch for you, and you won't be blowing money every night. We'd get some time to catch up some more, too."
"Why not?" I reply. I have no problem rooming with my sister for a few nights. And catching up—what I'd originally came here to do—is really a good idea. I actually have no clue when I'm going to get a chance to visit again, so I figure I'd better do all the talking and listening I can now, since I might not be able to for a while after I leave.
"Hey, great!" Mulder exclaims with an exuberance that I am, quite frankly, surprised to hear. "Scully and I can get a chance to show you around D.C. sometime! You know…Washington Monument, National Archives, Capitol Building, all the museums—the whole shebang."
I'm not really quite sure how I feel about the phrase 'the whole shebang,' but I would like some more time to study the relationship between these two. Not in a weird, stalkerish way, but in a brotherly interested way. My sister is involved, and I'm looking out for her best interests. Besides, I'd really like some more time to be able to form my own opinions on this Mulder guy—without Bill's influence.
So, there's your follow-up. I really don't think that I'll be continuing it, because it's not exciting enough for me to want to continue. To be perfectly frank, if you read the second chapter and got this far, I worship you. And, since you are this far already, it's but a small step to click the lovely lavender button and review. We all know that reviews are like candy—no matter what our parents say, we know that we can never get enough.
