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 almost can't believe it has already been over three months since my last update. I'm so sorry, but adult life is a lot harder than I thought. Happy Easter and 2015, please, be kind to us all!
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 VIII:
Seizure
"Stem cells," Scully started, handing them some informative brochures on the matter, "are able to self-renovate and differentiate. They specialize during the embryonic development and originate every kind of cell, and therefore tissue, in our organism. Later, they lose this capacity and simply replace the cells that are dying, repairing damaged tissues."
She faced Blair and Margaret Fearon, hoping that they were following her words and understanding what they were being told. What she saw in their expressions made her continue:
"Stem cells therapy is a very recent development from Science that uses those cells to treat certain diseases of many kinds. When Nature fails, it is now possible to use her own tools to make her find the right way. Using Christian's case as an example, we'd try to rebuild his nervous system by regenerating the damaged tissues."
"Is that possible?" Blair asked. His voice was heavy with scepticism.
"It's... well, it's complicated. Therapy with stem cells is still under investigation for situations like this specific one. As you already know, neurons don't regenerate themselves... But I've been informing myself, there are many clinical trials and advances in this area. The results aren't definitive yet, but..."
Scully knew she was shaking. She was insecure and the Fearons would understand it soon. So she took a deep breath and pushed the brochures away.
"Look, I'm not going to lie to you," she admitted, feeling more vulnerable than ever, "this is a very complicated procedure. It's hard and it's painful. And you should also be aware that there are no guarantees: Christian is very weak right now, we don't know how he's going to react to such a big surgery..."
Margaret Fearon shook her head discretely and cleaned up the tear that was about to denounce her true feelings. Instinctively, Scully reached out for her hand and squeezed it hard. The only comfort she could offer her.
"But it's the only thing we can do," she was whispering now. "It's up to you."
"What..." Blair hemmed, fighting against his own emotions. "What can we do?"
"You can choose this alternative. Or you can wait for the inevitable."
She didn't want to say it. They both knew what was going to happen, in a day that would always come too soon for them. The Fearons were already broken inside, how much damage could the word 'death' provoke?
Scully noticed how Margaret took the hand that Blair had over his lap on hers. How the husband squeezed their hands together with an equal strength. Sharing the pain, sharing the faith. When apart, even the slightest breeze could break them down; but together, not even the greatest storm could take them to the ground.
When had she felt the same consolation for the last time?
"Mr. and Mrs. Fearon," Scully tried to focus on their problem and not her own, "I understand this is a very difficult decision. And I'm not trying to influence you in any way. But this is Christian's only chance."
"We've discussed this before," Blair interrupted, exchanging looks with his wife. "We've been praying for this. We've been begging God for an answer and I think we've found it!"
"We want to try it!"
Scully smiled tenderly at Margaret's face. It was done and she had won the first round.
Christian had won.
Five minutes later, she walked the Fearons outside her office. She had promised them to talk to a neurosurgeon and collect every available piece of information that could help them with their situation. As she watched them leave, Scully couldn't help but to notice that something had changed on their expressions: they seemed lighter, more relieved. The consequences of a new aura of hope.
However, as soon as she waved the last goodbye to the couple, she saw Alex coming in the opposite direction. After a slight nod to the Fearons, the surgeon approached his colleague. His facial features weren't promising of good news.
"Hi, Alex!" Scully turned her back at him and returned to her chair, leaving the office's door open so he could follow her. "I wasn't aware that you were working today."
"I know what you're doing!"
She froze after his statement. Father Joe's words were still echoing in her head, and now even Alex knew. Oh my God, Alex knew about Emily!
"The stem cells therapy," he explained in a grave tone. "I know you're thinking about submitting Christian to the treatment."
Scully couldn't avoid a sigh of relief.
"It's not a secret, Alex," she let him know, while putting together the brochures that the Fearons had left behind. "The parents have just agreed."
"I just want you to know... don't count on me to help you with this!"
Scully turned her head at him in a second. She couldn't recall a single time where she had shown any interest in having him supporting her on this. She also didn't expect him to understand.
"Okay!" What else did he want to hear?
"I'm afraid... I'm afraid I no longer know who you are, Dana!"
The sentence caught her by surprise. The disappointment in his voice managed to hurt her somehow. It was clear that she hadn't reached his expectations on her, and that was something that truly bothered her.
"What?" she questioned him, trying to understand his point of view.
"You're different! You're not the same person you used to be! Ever since Christian... ever since the FBI came here, you've distanced yourself from people, Dana! From me!" Alex shook his head over her sceptic face. "I know you don't trust people easily, but I felt something between us... a connection, something like that. You've told me your secrets, you came to me when you needed a friend, but now you're starting to shut your heart around me."
"Alex, you don't understand..."
"What? Try me, Dana!"
The silence fell heavy between them. Scully could never tell him, ever. He would never understand.
"You know what," he continued after a couple of seconds, "I felt something between us, I really did! I like you, Dana, I care so much for you, and I thought we were on the right way. But now I'm not so sure. Ever since it happened..."
"What happened, Alex, always what happened!" Following the threats from the last couple of days, Scully was finally exploding. "Forget about what happened, it was only a night, damn it!"
"One night that could have been something more if I hadn't woken up to find you gone! Why did you run in that night, Dana? Why are you still running?"
"Because you're not..."
"Him!" She could hear a voice inside her mind screaming at his questions. "Just say it! You're running away from Alex because he's not him!"
"I'm not what?" Alex couldn't stand her pause. "Tell me! What do I need to do to assure you that you'll be okay with me?"
"Our problem here is... not everything is about you, Alex."
He stood still, unsure of what to do next. Scully put away the brochures in one of her desk drawers and placed the stethoscope around her shoulders. She didn't even look at her colleague when she crossed the office towards its exit.
"I have to go," she announced. "Maybe you should do the same."
And she left. Without looking behind, not even one last time. In her conscience, she carried the weight of letting a friendship be ruined over mixed feelings and misunderstandings.
Again.
The telephone rang at exactly 02:23 p.m. She knew it because she had been staring at her computer's screen for the past nine minutes, watching time go by, hoping to reach the end of the day and return home soon. She shouldn't have bothered to get out of bed that morning.
Lifting the phone from rest, she took it to her ear.
"Dr. Scully," said Rachel's voice on the other side, "I have a call for you, some man named Fox Mulder..."
She stopped breathing instantly. She barely noticed when answered back:
"Pass it, please."
Mulder had called her. Mulder wanted to talk to her. After what had happened at the restroom, Scully wasn't sure whether she didn't want to see him or, on the contrary, she longed to lose herself on his arms again. No matter what, she knew she could always find some peace there.
"Hello?" The insisting voice on the phone brought her back to reality. She hadn't even realized she had left him hanging on. "Scully, are you there?"
She closed her eyes, trying to find her strength. Inside, she was praying for her voice not to break right now:
"What are you doing, Mulder?"
He snorted, out of surprise. Scully could almost swear he was smiling.
"I just called... I was worried about you."
"I'm fine!" She didn't even think before carrying on: "Stop doing this! You know, I left for a reason: I wanted back the life I lost at the FBI, even though I didn't admit it for years. I wanted to be happy. I deserve to be happy! And I was so close to get it..."
She tried not to think about the tears that were threatening to roll down her face.
"You bring darkness with you, Mulder, and I can't stand that darkness around me anymore."
"Scully..."
"Please, Mulder... let me be!" And with that she hung up.
He didn't deserve that treatment, Scully was aware of it. After everything they had experienced together, after what had happened in the previous day, he didn't deserve it. Mulder had always wanted her best, Mulder had always tried his best for her, Mulder would give his own life so she could be spared – Scully knew it.
But blaming him was easier than blaming herself for everything that had gone wrong in her life. The X-Files were his, the darkness was his.
"Weak!" "Coward!" And she couldn't disagree with the voices accusing her in her mind. How low had she hit?
Someone knocked at the office's door. Furiously, she cleaned up her eyes and her voice came out a bit harsher than she expected it to be:
"Come in!"
"Good afternoon!" Sister Beatrice's peaceful expression became tenser when she faced the woman in the other side of the room. "Dr. Scully, are you feeling well?"
She nodded, placing a half-smile on her lips.
"Yes, don't worry. I just received a phone call, it's nothing to worry about."
"Is it that man again?"
Scully frowned, which made her interlocutor understand that she had no idea what she was talking about.
"I've seen him here before, at the hospital." Sister Beatrice came closer and sat at the chair placed in front of her desk. "He first came in with that priest, the one that visited little Christian yesterday. And I know he knows you. He was around here yesterday, making questions about you... I don't know, I find him a bit... spooky!"
Scully couldn't help but to let go of a sad smile.
"Do you think it's better to call the police? If he's harassing you..."
"No, don't worry," she soothed her. "He's just someone from my past, not a threat at all. But thank you for the concern!"
"You've been so down in these past few days, Dr. Scully, it breaks my heart to see you like this. You know that, every time you need to talk, you can count on me to listen, right?"
The other woman nodded again, somewhat taken aback by the sympathetic gesture of friendship from Our Lady of Sorrows' Sister-in-charge. It was something she wasn't used to.
"Anyway," Sister Beatrice carried on, back at her natural pace, "I came here to discuss what happened yesterday. I'm aware that you didn't appreciate the visit of that priest and that it was one of my novices that allowed him the entrance..."
"Oh no, Sister," Scully quickly interrupted, afraid that her personal breakdown could cost the poor girl a punishment, "it was just a misunderstanding! I've been a bit over the edge lately and I completely lost it when I saw him at the infirmary. The girl, she was there, I might have blamed her, but I didn't mean it, you know?"
"I know," the Sister kindly smiled, "I've inferred that. But Piper was very upset. She came to talk to me, worried that you might present a complaint against her..."
"I won't. But I will talk to her later, hopefully she'll understand..."
"She will. She knows you've been under a lot of pressure."
Her hand flew to Scully's face and tenderly caressed it. She hadn't been consoled like that in awhile. It felt nice. It made her miss her mom, with whom she only talked through telephone in the past two years.
"Don't give up on finding a reason to smile."
A thought easy to agree with. Actually accomplish it, however, was a little trickier.
Only then she had the first flash: Father Joe touching Christian's hand; Father Joe standing in front of her, eyes staring into her soul. "Don't give up!" Don't give up on your girl. Don't give up on him. Don't give up on your reason to smile.
Scully waited for Sister Beatrice to leave and picked up the phone, dialling the number of the Ward's secretary.
"Yes, Rachel," she said after two rings, "I need a huge favor from you. I need you to call the FBI and put me on the line with Assistant Director Walter Skinner..."
After knocking at the door, Scully closed her eyes and hoped that he wouldn't answer to her calling. Maybe he had left, maybe he was still out with the FBI, maybe he hadn't returned at all in the past few days. After a few seconds, she was ready to give up. She shouldn't have come: she was listening to the muffled cries, the angry voices, the furniture being dragged and her heart rate was going off limits. She had been away for too long. Or maybe, not for time enough. It was too much, even for her.
Scully turned her back at the apartment and was already leaving towards the staircase when she heard a rustling behind her and a known hoarse voice asking:
"Yes?"
Now it was too late.
"Father Joseph Crissman?" she questioned, despite knowing who he was, trying to gain some time while going back to her original stance.
"That's me." Father Joe tilted his head. Only then Scully noticed the Bible he was holding in his hands. "I know who you are. You're a doctor at that hospital, the Our Lady of Sorrows..."
Bothered, she didn't answer. Father Joe pointed his chin towards his home:
"Do you want to come in?"
No, she actually didn't. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with a pedophile priest on his own habitat. But her curiosity spoke louder and when she realized it, she was already walking inside the house. Father Joe followed, almost as her shadow. The sound of the door closing felt like a prison incarceration.
Scully swept the small dark room with a look. There was too much comfort for such a monster.
"Were you praying?" she asked, pointing at his Bible. "For what?"
"For the salvation of my immortal soul."
"And you think God listen to your prayers?"
"Doesn't He listen to yours?" His voice was calm but his eyes sparkled with anger.
"I didn't molest thirty-seven altar boys."
A glimpse of surprise was visible across Father Joe's expression, but he managed to disguise it in one second. He was probably unsure of how could she know. Suddenly looking very tired, the old man sat at the edge of an unmade bed.
"God has forgiven my sins," he explained, trying to moderate his indignation. "He has blessed me!"
"With the visions, Father?" Scully interrupted, tired of his act. "I don't believe they're a blessing from God!"
"What do you want from me, after all?"
Father Joe was starting to lose his restraint and maybe she couldn't blame him. She had been the one knocking at his door, pointing blaming fingers at him.
Scully swallowed dry. The moment of truth had come.
"You told me something yesterday..." she started, trying to keep herself under control.
"I know. I told you about a little girl. I told you not to give up."
"Why?"
"I have no idea!"
His answer felt harsher than a slap in the face.
"No idea?!" Scully was expecting a lot of different answers, but that one was definitely a surprise. "How can you not know? You were the one who said it!"
"I only speak the message that God wants me to transmit. I don't know His reasons!"
"Do you know who I am?" Her voice was hitting the highest notes since the start of the confrontation. "Do you know my life, what I've done, what I do?"
"I know some things..." Their eyes met once again and once again Scully felt her own soul bare exposed to him. "I know you're a woman of faith. I know you're a woman tormented by the actions from your past."
She snorted out of admiration. Father Joe was staring so firmly she felt a tight on her chest and throat, preparing her for the moment when he would get up and squeeze his hands around her neck.
"Do you want to tell me your secrets?" she heard him ask. "To confess your sins?"
"I don't think you're..."
"What, in position to judge you? And yet, you've already judged me!"
"Don't try to compare us, you deserve to be judged!"
"Do you know why we live here?" Scully knew he was referring to every other pedophile and rapist that called 'home' to that dirty and decadent building that sheltered some of the most twisted minds from society. "Because we hate each other just as much as we hate ourselves! We hate ourselves for our sickening appetites! And do you know where those appetites come from?"
"Not from God!" she replied, sickened by the idea.
Father Joe shrugged.
"Not from me, I castrated myself when I was twenty-six. And these visions... they don't come from me either."
Scully felt the bile starting to outcrop to her throat. She couldn't breathe easily, think properly, listen carefully, whatever! Turning her back at him, she walked towards the exit. She had to leave. Definitely not ready at all.
But he wouldn't let her leave, not now:
"Proverbs, 25:2!" She stopped after hearing his voice again. "It is the glory of God to conceal a matter; to search out a matter is the glory of kings."
"What?" Scully came back, feeling the blood boil inside her veins. "Don't you quote scriptures at me!"
"What do you want?" he repeated. "What are you so afraid of?"
"Don't give up! What was that for?" Father Joe closed his eyes and shook his head in denial. "I don't believe you! You have to know, you said it to my face!"
"All I ever wanted was to serve Him," he whimpered, taking the chin closer to his chest, hiding his face away. "All I ever wanted was to serve God!"
The Bible fell on the floor. Scully couldn't be fooled as easily.
"You can ask for His pity," she said as if spitting, "but don't ask for mine!"
Still with his head down, some of Father Joe's fingers were presenting with spasms, which she noticed.
"You can stop the act now, no one is going to believe you!"
She grabbed him by the chin and rose up his head. With eyes still closed, Father Joe let go of a scream and clenched his teeth before his body started shaking uncontrollably. It wasn't an act!
Caught by surprise, Scully helped him lie down over the bed and tried to pull apart the clothes around his neck to avoid asphyxiation. While Father Joe kept seizing beneath her, she took out her cell phone from the coat's pocket and pressed the proper keys before taking it to her ear.
She didn't have to wait long:
"911, what's your emergency?"
TBC
A/N 2: so, #XFiles2015, who's excited? :DDD