The Matchbox (An extension to Man Without a Face)

Author: PhileyX 
E-Mail: phileyxback@yahoo.com 
Web-site: https://www.angelfire.com/id/phileyx 
Rating: PG 
Category:  Margaret Scully's POV
Spoilers: Requiem, Man Without A Face
Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Margaret Scully, Dana Scully and the other X-files characters mentioned below are borrowed only for the duration of the story. 

Author's note: This piece is an extension to Man Without a Face. It can found at:
https://www.angelfire.com/id/phileyx/Face.html
It also serves as a prequel to the introduction of John Dole to Margaret Scully.
Intro: This story takes place after the Requiem. Two years after his disappearance, a man appears claiming to be Mulder, with a catch; he just didn't have his face. Scully finds out he is really her ex-partner the unconventional way. 

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The Matchbox

    Excerpts from the song ‘Mercury’ by The Counting Crows. 

            No infringement of copyright intended.

<She is trapped inside a month of grey
And they take a little every day
She's a victim of her own responses
Shackled to a heart that wants to settle
And then runs away
It's a sin to be fading endlessly
Yeah, but she's all right with me>

I have never understood my children. But I suppose no mother has ever completely comprehended the decisions made by their offspring. It's all we mothers talk about when we get together, the unfathomable lives of our children. 

From Bill to Charlie, I have learnt the hard way to mastering the art of accepting their choices without judgment. When Bill wanted to join the Navy even though he hated living the life of the wandering navy family his father succumbed him to; I encouraged him. When Missy decided to drop out of high school and venture into the world; I sat her down, told her all the mysteries of life I could recall and let her go. When Dana decided to give up medicine; I stood up for her in front of my late husband. When Charlie decided to take a commission overseas, uprooting his family to a foreign land; I promised to write.

It's funny how you are more readily willing to forgive and accept the so-called mistakes of your children but never of your own spouse. I loved Ahab. He was a good husband and a loving father. But his visions of how his children should turn out always made him into somewhat of a bully. 

In truth, Dana was the only child that he spoilt. She was the only one allowed to wear jeans to Mass on Sundays, the only one he specially took time out from his work to go fishing with, the only one he made sure he would tuck in at bedtime.

Fortunately my youngest daughter had more sense than pride. Her childish willfulness and impetuosity soon matured into determination and careful deliberation. But there were still times when her father's indulgence got the better of her and she found herself searching for reasons to rebel against his wishes. 

Her love life was a mother's nightmare. But nothing more so than Missy's. My elder daughter's boyfriends slash lovers were all from the Planet Scum. Dana's? They were from Planet Precarious. 

Being a rather private person, I was always reduced to tricks and stratagems to find out her latest love interest. Thank God for Missy. Her rare but evidently sufficient correspondence with her sister and her careless disregard for keeping secrets confidential kept me up-to-date on Dana's love life or lack of it.

Once again I was forced to accept certain things about my daughter I did not approve. Her secret liaison with the very married Daniel; I wondered where I went wrong as a mother. Her affair with her FBI training instructor; totally unprofessional! And then, there was her partner, Fox Mulder…. 

Fox was probably the king of Planet Precarious. But I will always have a soft spot for this royal pain in the behind. After all, he was the only man my daughter openly admitted to having a relationship with. Her partner, she declared. Yeah right, and I'm Princess Grace.

I have to admit though. Between my daughter and him, they carried on the most bizarre relationship I have ever had the privilege to encounter. After seven years, they still called each other by their last names, for God's sakes!

I would always know when they had a disagreement. She would suddenly call, propose lunch or dinner and spend the whole duration cruelly stabbing her meal as if it were one of her partner's eyes. 

From what I gather, it was always his fault. Although I suspect she was mostly angry with herself because she was unable to explain his theories scientifically. Their making up was as mind boggling as their inexplicable bond. He would always call on her cell phone and ask her something. The more ridiculous and frivolous the question, the more sorry he was. Although clearly irritated with his peculiar inquiry and after barking into the handset telling him so, she never failed to smile after hanging up.

Their disputes and reconciliation seemed an acceptable courtship ritual for them. They diligently stuck to the same rite for seven years, occasionally taking time off for a few bumps along their path, namely Missy's death, her cancer and Emily. 

Like I said, I never understood my daughter's life. Just when I was beginning to accept the finality of their relationship being absolutely platonic, she calls me up and tells me she's pregnant. I did not even bother to ask who was the father, I was more concerned with how can that be?

She had admitted to me a long time ago the painful fact that I would never hold a grandchild from her womb. I sometimes wondered if it was one of the reasons she was holding back her love from Fox. 

"I don't know." She admitted to me. And I had to accept that as an answer. After all, it was only one more question to the list of hows and whys of Dana's life and one more wouldn't hurt. 

Then I found out that Fox was gone. My heart froze. The sense of dreariness was almost similar to when I lost Ahab. And I wondered how my daughter would be able to bear it. Fox was the only person she could relate to in her mad world. And to lose him to the unknown was an ironic blow to her sanity. Thankfully, she prevailed.

In all my life, I never thought I would be glad to see any of my unmarried daughters knocked up. But in Dana's case, being with child was her salvation. William was her only reason to go on, to hope, to keep looking. And she does, even to this day, nearly two years since his disappearance.

<She is leaving on a walk away
She is leaving me in disarray
In the absence of a place to be
She stands there looking back at me
Hesitates and then turns away
She'll change so suddenly
She's like mercury
Yeah, she's all right with me>

Tonight as my youngest daughter sits at the dinner table, furiously attacking her peas with her fork, I am reminded of her former lover. And an explainable feeling comes over me as I expect the phone to ring any moment for the completion of the mating ritual. Of course, it doesn't. Fox is gone, I remind myself.

She then grabs the physically abused matchbox from the table and ill-treats it once again. I decide to object and frown at her. She catches my disapproval and lets go. Five minutes later, her fingers find the tiny carton again.

"Dana, is something bothering you?" I finally decide to intrude, although knowing I would probably get an infuriating 'I'm fine' from her.

"No mom." She hesitates and I wait for it. "I'm fine." My eyes roll. I begin to nag, as any good mother would at this particular point when she suddenly rises from her chair. "Sorry mom, I'm just not hungry. I think I'll go to bed early." And she takes her plate to the sink. 

"Leave it, Dana. I'll take care of it." I tell her. "Why don't you tuck Will in?"

She looks at me and nods her head absently. "Okay."

I watch her as she walks out, her hand still fiddling with the matchbox in her hand. Being naturally nosy as any parent should be, I repeat the name of the motel over and over again, least I forget.

If Fox were still around, he would be the first person I would call. But now, I wonder whom could I turn to. My first instinct was her superior, Walter Skinner. But my daughter's obsession with a matchbox was perhaps not good enough reason to bother him with. The paranoid trio was next on the list. Then again, those three would probably blow the whole situation out of proportion. 

The last person I could think of was Doggett, Dana present colleague. Colleague? I suddenly smile as I begin to realize an idiosyncrasy in myself. Somehow I am unable to think of him as my daughter's new partner. After Fox, the title holds a totally alternate meaning in my dictionary.

After clearing up the dishes, I lock up the house and I head for bed. I was just about to drift into slumber when I hear the front door softly open and close. I get out of bed and peer out of my bedroom window. My daughter was trying her best to open the garage door as quietly as possible. Within minutes, I see her drive out of the driveway. 

I say the name of the motel as if to test if I had forgotten it. Satisfied with myself, I sit in my late husband's favourite chair and open the unfinished novel I have been reading. If she is not back within an hour, I fully intend to call Doggett.

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End of The Matchbox 

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E-Mail: phileyxback@yahoo.com 
Web-site: https://www.angelfire.com/id/phileyx