Disclaimer: characters and places belong to Chris Carter, to 1013 Productions and to Fox Network, except those created by me. If you find this fanfiction similar to another one, it's nothing more than a coincidence.
Production: January, 2009 – August, 2010
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In 1998, Scully left Mulder and the FBI to pursue her interrupted path in Medicine and try to be happy. Ten years later, while trying to save a young boy's life, some old wounds of hers are reopened once their paths cross in the search of the truth. Because lives may change and hope may be lost, but they still want to believe…
Extra: a different take on I Want to Believe, considering an Alternative Reality post-Fight the Future. Spoilers from the episodes.
A/N: I was planning to post this chapter way before Christmas, but something happened that totally forced me to take a break until now. I still hope you appreciate this piece, it has a lot of heart on it, and please accept my wishes of a Merry Christmas, or Happy Season if you don't celebrate it.
Also, this will be my last update of the year, since my life is about to suffer a big change starting next month and I need some time to organize everything before coming back. I will return, though, don't worry; I just can't promise exactly when. Until then, be happy! Happy New Year 2015! :D
English is not my first language and I don't have a beta-reader at the moment, so I'm sorry for any mistakes, no one is perfect. Hope you enjoy this fanfiction as much as I enjoyed writing it.
OUT FROM UNDER
Chapter VII:
Don't give up
There were times when Scully was willing to believe in coincidences. Like when she had met Boggs, where 'coincidence' was the best word to explain why would a psychopath be familiar with the details of her relationship with her father. Or when she had received her cancer diagnosis, where 'coincidence' was the easiest escape to a horrifying truth that was threatening to reach the light of day.
Or even, to a lesser extent, last night, when, after hours of second thoughts and slight regrets, Alex had called to cancel their dinner. An emergency at the hospital, they would have to find another day.
'Coincidence'. Not 'fate'. She refused to believe that even fate couldn't see a future in them.
Following the change of plans, Scully had the entire evening to carry on with her research for Christian's case. She finished her stock of printing paper printing pretty much every article on the matter of interest and only when the clock marked 04:00 a.m. she finally understood that her autopilot was turned on, making her act without thinking. So she put away some articles that couldn't help her, some others that addressed a couple of terrifying experiences done in Russia, and ended up falling asleep on the couch, where for the rest of the night she had nightmares about Christian, Mulder, Alex and Father Joe.
That was probably the reason why she wasn't surprised when, after waking up that morning, she found herself late for work. There would be no time for an invigorating bath or a decent breakfast; just to change her clothes, pack up the printed papers in her suitcase, whether they mattered or not, and head towards the hospital. Scully hated being late.
The Our Lady of Sorrows' conference room had its door closed when she arrived. Trying not to think much about how long had her colleagues been reunited so far, she took a deep breath, knocked on it and didn't wait for an answer to come in.
"... that can now be responsible for his care."
Without facing Father Ybarra, Scully closed the door behind her and approached her empty spot, in the other side of the room.
"Ah, Dr. Scully!" She stopped after hearing her name. Father Ybarra had moved away from his computer and was now staring straight at her. "I was just now informing the medical and administrative board of the decision made on the Christian Fearon case."
"I'm sorry, what decision?"
"That we're transferring the boy to a hospice that can provide him the most comfort for his palliative care."
Scully dropped her suitcase on the chair and turned to face him, slowly. Was she still having nightmares?
"I'm afraid that was a discussion, Father, not a decision!"
"Well, we've just discussed the case here," Father Ybarra looked around to the people who were present in the room. She couldn't help but to notice that Alex wasn't one of them. "No one is against the suggestion."
"I am!"
She noticed him eye rolling, as if he was tired of listening to the same thing over and over again. On his right, Father Miller discreetly shook his head, preventing her not to fight him on this.
But what was that, a crusade against the Fearons? Against her?
"Dr. Scully, you have in your hands a patient diagnosed with a degenerative and incurable disease. Now, this is a heartbreaking situation, and a very unfortunate event, especially since this patient is an innocent child," he explained with a sigh, "but unless you're here to enlighten us with a cure for Sandhoff disease, I suggest you to stop and let the boy go in peace."
And there was nothing left to say.
Scully felt her knees falling apart and sat in the chair designated to her. She knew it wouldn't be easy to convince them, not after those words. However, she was tired of thinking, tired of waiting. She had to make a decision. She had to swim against the tide. Even if all alone.
"In our following agenda, we have a patient of Dr. Willard admitted after suffering a myocardial infarction..."
It was time.
"There is a treatment," she announced all of sudden.
"That subject is now closed, Dr. Scully."
"No, it's not!"
There was a heavy silence in the conference room and every pair of eyes was now focused on her. In that precise moment, she felt lonelier than ever.
"Sandhoff disease can be treated with an intrathecal stem cells therapy."
"No!" All heads moved to face Laurie Wood, who had remained silent until now. "You can't do that! You can't put the boy through that hell!"
"Wouldn't you do it if he was your son?"
Father Ybarra decided to intervene:
"But he's not her son, Dr. Scully. And he's not yours neither."
"And this is a decision that should be taken by the primary physician, not the administrators of the hospital." Scully grabbed her suitcase and got up, ready to leave. She had nothing else to do there. "If you don't like it, I suggest you to present the case to a higher authority."
"I already did. I took it to the highest authority of all."
Even though she didn't want it, she couldn't help it. Her blue eyes swept the entire conference room to meet Father Ybarra's. He was more serious than ever.
"Don't you think it's time for you to do the same?"
"I took it to the highest authority of all."
Scully walked down the corridor of the Pediatric Ward, with hands hidden in the white coat's pockets, eyes lost and taciturn expression.
"Don't you think it's time for you to do the same?"
Father Ybarra's last words were still weighing her mind. Damn, her words were still weighing her mind. "What is the purpose of bringing a life to the world whose only hope is to die?" Why hadn't anyone come up with an answer yet? Why wouldn't He answer her?
Highest authority? She would accept the verdicts of the 'highest authority' on the day someone could finally explain her why to bless a woman with a child that only in death can find some comfort.
When she came closer to the infirmary that held her attention for the past weeks, her eyes ran to Christian's bed. Little great Christian, who didn't even imagine the storms that were being fought in his name. The storms she was fighting in his name. And then she noticed the person sitting next to him: an elderly man, with white long hair and round glasses, sitting at the edge of the bed, holding a warm smile on his lips. His wrinkled hand moved over the sheets to hold the little boy's.
All of her alarms started ringing.
Father Joe!
Feeling an immense rage overflowing her, Scully burst through the infirmary like a hurricane.
"What do you think you're doing?" she shouted, making Father Joe let go of Christian's hand with some roughness. "Leave him alone, you sick bastard!"
"It's okay, Dr. Scully, our Father just wanted to talk to me about Jesus..."
But Scully wasn't listening to him:
"What are you doing?" she asked again, facing the monster in the eye. "Why are you back here?"
"I know you," Father Joe whispered, without looking away.
"Me? I highly doubt it..."
"I've been here before."
There was something about that man that made her even angrier – she had never heard him speak before. Scully wasn't expecting that tone of voice: so soft and tender, so calm and trustworthy. She could feel the shivers just by imagining it, thirty-seven children drinking his words and trusting his intentions... confessing him their sins, assuming their guilt, looking out for forgiveness to ease their conscience... And then what he did to them...
Would have he told them it was their punishment? Would have he told them it was God's will?
"I've... here..."
Father Joe seemed lost, but Scully didn't care. She went back to the infirmary's door and looked around, to the people who were coming over attracted by her shouts, without understanding what was going on.
"Who let this man enter here?" The question was thrown in a more acid way than she desired it to be.
She noticed the young novice that was holding a child in her arms, not very far from where all the action was taking place. The girl's face was red with embarrassment and she slowly approached her, fearing her fury.
"I... I didn't think that it could be a problem," she said in her defence.
"Well, think better next time!"
"Is there a problem, Dr.?"
Scully stared back at the security guard that was now moving towards the infirmary too. There were heads peeking over his shoulders, eyes shining with curiosity. And Father Joe remained at his spot, babbling and staring at the ceiling, without noticing (or pretending not to notice) the circus that was being held around his presence.
"Yes, there is a problem!" She grabbed the elderly by one arm and tried to drag him to the exit. "Call the FBI, ask to speak with Assistant Director Skinner! Tell him that Father Joe is at the hospital, they're probably searching for him!"
"And you... you've been here too. You've been here with me."
His unexpected words made her stop and turn her head at him. Without knowing why, she felt herself freeze by the pair of dark-brown eyes staring straight at her.
"What?" It was everything she was able to say.
"You and the boy... no, the girl! The little blonde girl with her mother's blue eyes."
The shock hit her like a punch in the stomach. She was still clinging to his arm, but her fingers were losing strength. Her knees felt numb, there was a lump on her throat. She wasn't sure whether her heart was working at its lowest pace or wasn't working at all.
How could he know? Oh my God, how could he know?
"You were here with her," Father Joe continued, without looking away, "you wanted to fight, but you gave up on her! And you can't give up!"
Scully's vision was blurred by the tears she could no longer hold within and she took both of her hands to cover her mouth. How was it possible? No one knew about it, beside her family and Mulder. And Mulder could be changed, could be angry and hurt, but she knew he would never break her trust regarding something that could still bruise her on the inside.
'Coincidence', her mind was screaming.
"But how?"
The silence felt heavy on the infirmary and the surrounding corridor. Scully didn't even want to face those around her. All she wanted to do was run – run from the intrigued stares, from the muted commentaries, from the secrets being dissected in their murmurs. Ten years building walls surrounding her past, what was private and belonged to only her, so that a sick old man could destroy them and expose her in public square.
"Dr. Scully let her own daughter die!"
Run, run, run... All she wanted to do was run!
Father Joe grabbed her by the shoulders. She hadn't noticed that her muscles were now paralysed and her arms had fallen alongside her body. He was so close, eyes scrutinizing her so deeply, that Scully felt as if he was trying to spy her soul. For the first time since that man had entered her life, she believed that he was telling the truth. She wanted to believe Father Joe was speaking from God.
His lips half-opened. And she heard him: "Don't give up!"
The words she had most desired to hear, coming from the mouth of a pedophile priest!
With a somewhat violent reflex, Scully released herself from his claws and took a couple of steps back. She was trembling when she turned her back at him and faced those who were observing the scene in silence, attentive at their most. There was a sense of asphyxiation and the world danced under her feet.
"Dr. Sc..."
She wasn't sure of who was calling for her. Moving forward through the crowd, trying not to be bothered by the stares that were following every action of hers, she progressed down the corridor. Alex St. Matthew met her at the end of it, near the Ward's exit, with hands on his hips and an interrogative expression all over his face.
"What's wrong, Dana?" he inquired, coming towards her.
Her head felt heavy as lead when she turned to face her colleague:
"Please, Alex... not now!"
Run, run, run... All she wanted to do was run!
The knock on the door disturbed the silence surrounding her. The answer was immediate:
"Occupied!"
Scully hemmed and cleaned the tears with the tips of her fingers. Head, face, chest... everything that was hers hurt. She tried to imagine her general figure, holding the signs of the crying flood that had taken control in the past few minutes, and decided that she wouldn't let anyone see her like that.
Another knock was heard. She couldn't keep the irritation inside.
"I said it's occupied!" she repeated, a little louder than was needed. "There are more restrooms at this hospital, you know?"
Why couldn't they leave her alone? All she wanted was a moment for herself...
She heard the door being slowly opened.
"What are you doing?" She felt furious. "Didn't you hear...?"
"It's okay, it's me."
Mulder's voice surprised her. She moved her head to face him, now that he had entered and was closing the door behind him. With a sigh, Scully got up from the bench and walked towards the row of washbasins in front of her. Her reflection in the large mirror above them scared her.
"Why are you here, Mulder?" she was able to ask, feeling a little calmer, looking away from his eyes.
"I came after Father Joe. I've heard about what happened..."
"I want to be alone!"
"I know."
Still, he didn't move. As if he knew she was pretending to be less disturbed than what she really was. As always.
She stared at the floor beneath her. She wasn't ready for this moment.
"Were you with him?"
Silence was the only answer she gave him. He understood it.
"Did you talk about the case?"
"No..." she whispered, almost without a breath.
"Then what did he tell you?"
Scully didn't want him to know. He didn't need to know, he would only shed more fuel into the fire. She didn't need him.
But then she saw him. Mulder had been there, he had always been there – when she found her, when she fought for her, when she lost her. She had never told him about what she really felt during those days, but deep inside she had always been sure that he knew it anyway. He knew how lost she was. How lost she still was.
Who else would understand it?
"He knows." Scully hemmed again and tried to speak a little louder: "Father Joe knows."
"What?" Mulder came closer. A sense of worry could be hinted in his tone of voice. "What could he possibly know that left you like this?"
She raised her puffy eyes to him.
"Emily," she sighed. "He knows I let my own daughter die."
And there they were, those damn tears again. Scully held against the marble countertop and tried to cover her face from his visual camp. She hated to cry in front of people, especially of Mulder. She hated the idea of being interpreted as a weak person.
He took his hand and grabbed her chin, bringing her to face him. In every line of his expression there were no traces of pity, or arrogance, or even superiority.
As always.
"You didn't let her die," Mulder explained with an affectionate smile. In that moment, she realized she had missed that smile. "You gave her something that no one had ever given to her: a chance to be free. A chance of ending her pain. You saved her!"
"Maybe. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm here... and she's not!"
Everything happened so quickly she didn't even realize it. When the storm erupted again from inside her, her knees broke and Scully fell down to be caught by Mulder's arms. With a gentle move, he squatted next to her while she sat on the floor. Although with slight apprehension, he embraced her shaking body and rested the left side of his face against the top of her head, which was pressed on the curve of his shoulder.
And it was right there, while cuddling on his arms and crying softly on his chest, that Scully found out. The past didn't matter – it didn't matter for how long they had been apart, it didn't matter what they had done, said or thought about each other. Mulder still cared.
Mulder was still her rock.
He sighed deeply. She could feel his heavy breathing close to her ear. His lips caressed her skin.
"It's okay, Scully," she heard him whisper. "It's okay."
And she knew it was. She had him with her.
TBC
A/N 2: for this chapter, I took use of one of the movie's deleted scenes: Father Joe visits Christian and when Scully tries to expel him from the room, he tells her that he knows her and has been there before with her and the boy. I actually liked the scene and interpreted 'the boy' as being baby William; but in the commentary, Frank and Chris said they thought the moment made no sense, so they ended up eliminating it. Somehow, though, I knew I had to include it in this work.
Happy holidays! :)