Fundamentalists said ‘Jesus take her’, she said ‘I want my right to life.’

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From: fox2001@yahoo.com          Block Address  Add to 

Hey, Miracle Mom!

Just a note from the mountains to let you know I am alive and well. Walter says he phoned you this morning to tell you about our Calgary adventure, and I thought I’d best allay any fears you might have, since I read an article once that linked anxiety in nursing mothers to weakened immunity in the children who receive the stress-laden milk. And we wouldn’t want baby Bill to be anything but strong and healthy, right?

Anyway, you know Walter is prone to exaggeration. It wasn’t that big a deal. 

I think I see you raising an eyebrow. I know I hear Walter growling. I am not downplaying this. I have had far more serious ass-kickings in the past. You should know; you were there for most of them. Suffice it to say, I’ve got some spectacular bruises, and a couple of cuts, but nothing more than that. Good thing I’m as thickheaded as you always claimed I was, isn’t it? <g>

On the other hand, I think it was a pretty major event for Walter. Scratch that-I know it was a pretty major event. What we talked about before we left, Scully--about the Krycek situation, and his reaction to it—well, I think this latest round of beat-the-Fox opened up the whole can of worms that is Walter Skinner, and we finally got around to talking about what was going on in his head.

He’s so damned closed-off sometimes, Scully. So cool and capable and in control, and I don’t know what’s going on with him. And then something drastic and unexpected and extreme to say the least happens, and whereas I am wearing it all on my sleeve for everyone to see, he seems to go deeper into himself, until no one, himself included, can get to the heart of the matter. I know you know what I mean. You’ve seen him do it as often as I have. I don’t know what factors, what experiences, what sort of possibilities accepted or rejected played a part in this man’s life that he is like this.

Sorry, I’m babbling. (There’s that eyebrow again.) But that’s what you get for not answering the phone earlier. You must be at your mother’s. Presumptuous of me, I’m sure, but as I recall, you gave up on having a life round about the time I was chasing that beast woman in New Jersey, and I’m sure if you had gotten one (a life I mean) in the meantime, I would have noticed. I’m not as self-absorbed as you think I am.

In case you were wondering how I came to be contacting you through the wonders of modern technology when I am currently in the mountains of Canada, well, not to sound too cute and domestic, but I found the local library here in Banff, and decided to do a little emailing while Walter is in the Laundromat down the street, doing (obviously), the laundry. I was all in favor of simply supplementing our wardrobes with purchases from the Eddie Bauer store in Calgary, but Walter is a traditionalist, completely opposed to the take-out, disposable mentality I occasionally favor, and he prefers to do things the hard way sometimes. After some intense negotiations, I opted to let him have his way on this one. Not that headlocks give one much choice in the matter.

Probably not something you needed to know at this point, but hey, that’s what your delete button is for. Besides, I know you miss my fascinating monologues. I know I miss yours.

Anyway, back to Walter (my favorite subject these days, but you knew that, too). 

Did you know Krycek had threatened your life? William’s life? Mine? Walter did. And he never said a word to me. That really pissed me off at first, especially when I found out that Doggett knew about it. Not everything, of course—I told you Walter’s pretty closed-mouthed—but he knew about Krycek at the end. I think maybe John and Walt got pretty close there for a while. I mean, he was with Walter when I—

That, my friend, is definitely the subject of a whole other email.

So, Walter had all these issues going on with him. With Krycek, with the bureau (I knew Kersh was trouble from the start), with his relationship with you (did you know he thought William was mine?), and of course, with me. Let’s face it; you of all people should know just how “interesting” a relationship with me can be. Toss in a few additional factors that you and I didn’t have to deal with, such as the same-sex thing, the age difference (which really bothers him, although I have no issue with it), and the supervisor/subordinate (or should that be insubordinate ha ha) thing, and you have a great big steaming pile of issues that would drive most people to the HR shrink in a heartbeat.

Not Walter, though. He just pressed on in his pertinacious bulldog way, resolute in his determination to make things right. He’s the original good guy, Scully. You know it. I know it. And I think he even sees himself as that sometimes. And then something like this comes along, and all of a sudden his white hat has been knocked off, and trampled in the dust, and I don’t think he quite knew what he was anymore.  Maybe he just found out that he’s as human as the next guy. Well, even Superman had to take the cape off once in a while. How else could he stay sane?

I don’t mean to tell tales out of school, but I think he’s found his way back to that white hat. I just mean that he’s in a place now where he understands himself a little better, and can accept everything that he’s done, and that has been done to him, and find peace in that understanding. I don’t mean that he’s all superior now, or that he doesn’t still have self-doubts. We all have those, don’t we? (Except for William, of course) I guess he just seems to have come to the conclusion (not without a little help from yours truly) that what he’s done in the past is not going to destroy his future. And if that helps him sleep well at night, then that’s what counts. 

I hope you know what I mean, Scully. You are truthfully the only person in the whole damned world that I could ever talk to like this. And even that’s not saying a whole lot. I mean, when was the last time you and I sat down over lattes to gossip about boyfriends? Even I am not always capable of being the most honest and forthright person in the world. I admire that in you sometimes. You have always been able to say just what’s on your mind, and stand your ground when you believe in something. I, on the other hand, have to resort to one-sided emails where I don’t actually have to look you in the eye to tell you all the things that are in my heart. The psychologist in me tells me to thank my parents for that little dysfunction, but there you have it. Maybe one day we’ll hit that Starbuck’s and swap guy stories. In the meantime, this will have to do, and I hope you know that I appreciate your presence in the comedy of errors that is my life.

I really should be going. I am sure we are well past the rinse cycle by now, and you are probably bored to tears.

Last thought. I love him, Scully. So much some days that it frightens me. I can’t imagine a life without him in it. He is, as I once heard a wise man say, my human credential. He makes me feel strong when all I feel is weak. He can make me laugh when all I want to do is cry. And he has provided walls sturdy enough to hold back all that would destroy me, be it enemies from another world, or just my own neurosis threatening to consume me. I can’t imagine how in the world I could ever repay him for all he’s given me, except to offer him my heart, such as it is, and be here for him in whatever capacity I can.

You have no idea how badly I want to delete that last paragraph. But if Walter can be honest with himself and with me, then it’s only right that I start being honest with myself, and with my best friend. (That would be you.)

Okay, really last, last thought here. He has just come through the front door, and the librarian at the front counter (who looks suspiciously like that satanic teacher from New Hampshire) is looking at him like he’s a hot fudge sundae, and she’s a card carrying member of Overeaters Anonymous. I think my eyes just got as green as Alex Krycek’s.

So, I’ll close for now, with this final image for you: you really haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen Walter Sergei Skinner in jeans and a t-shirt.

Dana (it even sounds funny when I type it), thanks for everything. Give William a kiss for me, and tell him his crazy uncles will be home soon.

Yours,

Mulder