The Dead Months

Made by Vered

Author: TCS1121
Email : TCS1121@hotmail.com
Classification: V
Keywords: Angst
Spoilers: All eps including "Three Words". Special reference to "All Souls"
Archive: sure
Disclaimer: 1013, not I, own these characters
Author’s Note: This is something I wanted to know, so I decided to find out.
Summary: What did Scully do for those three months?

Prologue:

"…..not the last."

"…..Not the last."

Skinner’s words echo in her head. And with his words come the

vision of the coffin deep in the ground. Is she really

standing here? Is this really happening?

It’s done. It’s over.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

It took two weeks for the numbing effect of grief to replace the constant tears that appeared with little prompting. It really wasn’t fair to her new partner to have a weeping, pregnant woman cluttering up the office, so she took off for two weeks, and just slept. Now, facing the office door, Scully straightened her face and prepared for the rest of her life.

Agent Doggett was studying a photograph when she walked through the door. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected her back today, and was surprised to see her, a wisp of a smile on her face, as she surveyed the familiar office.

It was a good day today, he thought.

She thought so, too. There is comfort in familiarity. There is comfort in being able to so accurately picture someone in his habitat. The fox’s lair had remained the same, and Mulder was still a presence here. Yes, it was a good day.

Until she looked up. What reason was there to look up? she thought as the panic she felt took over. She was going to cry. In Mulder’s office with her partner watching warily. Oh shit…ohshit..ohshit…But because human nature is what it is, Scully had to see if the reason was still there, so she looked up again. In the ceiling, in a dark corner, was a pencil sticking out. The urge to climb on the nearest chair and pluck the pencil out was almost too great. Knowing that the last thing to have touched the pencil edge was Mulder’s hand as he tossed it up there. Her mind chanted, "Ohshit…ohshit…how corny can you get?"

xxxxx

The night brought the sadness, but also, surprisingly, the tender moments, vividly into her mind. Soft kisses and loving words vie for attention with the empty bed and the silent telephone. Sometimes the cold side of the bed would dig a hole in her heart. Sometimes the darkness would bring the scent of aftershave and lovemaking.

It’s raining tonight. The flashes of lightening and the rumble of thunder wake her. The lightening flashes and her eyes involuntarily turn toward the window.

She sees him.

He is looking at her with a pleading expression, but doesn’t move. He makes no motion, no sound, but wears the mournful look of someone in need. Scully’s eyes burn with the effort to keep from blinking. She knows that if her eyes close, even for a moment, he’ll be gone. Then the lightening flashes and her eyes slam shut. She doesn’t open them until the next morning, even though she remains awake most of the night. Half out of fear, half out of sorrow, she keeps them closed. Scully knows that looking into the face of an angel can burn your eyes.

xxxxx

Bubbles.

That’s what the first stirring of life feels like. Scully spreads her hands across her abdomen and is amazed. For the first time, she can hear Skinner’s words, "…not the last." and feel joy. Oh Mulder, she thinks. Will he wear your smile? Will I see you in his eyes? Will the door to your grave open just a bit when he’s born, so I can see you again? She’s content to sit and feel the bubbles because now she knows that Mulder’s beautiful mind has not been lost.

xxxxx

It’s a bad day.

She’s prayed every day for a miracle. Now, she prays just for the strength to go on and for God’s help in accepting His will. Scully prays for peace for her soul and wants desperately to stop hating. Sometimes the hate is overwhelming. She hates the people responsible for taking him away. She hates them for torturing him. She hates them for murdering him. She hates.

But more than that, she hates them for taking away the sound of his voice. Today’s a bad day because she realized that she’d forgotten what his voice sounded like. The tone, the timber, and the inflection of his voice are lost to her. Maybe she’ll have her son call her "Scully" just so she can hear his voice say her name once again.

xxxxx

Time drags by, the baby fidgets and grows, causing her wardrobe to change. Scully cries less often now. Skinner is kind and attentive, and this makes her feel guilty. There was a time where she didn’t trust him, and told Mulder so. How can Skinner treat her so kindly? Doesn’t he know she doesn’t deserve it? She doesn’t deserve kindness from anyone because today, Scully is jealous of a dead woman. Not only that, for the first time in her life, she wished the cancer took her life years ago. Even as she thinks this, she strokes her unborn child and apologizes to him for these thoughts. Tears drip unchecked down her face as she thinks, "Was Diana waiting for him? Was she there to take his hand and walk with him into the good night? It should have me waiting for him, to make his passing safe and without fear. I should have been the one waiting to greet him for the rest of eternity…" She thinks that if the cancer ended her life, she would be happy right now. The rest of the night is spent with tears and apologies.

xxxxx

A casefile demands her attention because her partner has asked for some forensic clarification. Agent Doggett is very caring and concerned, but gives her all the space she needs. He seems to have a sixth sense about what she’s going through, and the fact that he’s suffered a loss makes his concern bearable. He has the radio on low in the corner and soft music floats through the office. Billy Joel’s version of "Only the Good Die Young" whispers by her. Scully’s surprised by the smile that suddenly comes to her lips. She’s equally surprised when a soft giggle works it’s way up. Her partner looks up at her quizzically, an unspoken question in his eyes. Her eyes shine when she says that it’s just that she’s been worrying about how Mulder was handling heaven and the afterlife. This song just made her realize that he’s laughing with the sinners rather than crying with the saints—the sinners are much more fun. And to her surprise, Doggett chuckles with her.

xxxxx

More and more, Scully realizes she can look back on Mulder’s memory and smile. "…Nice piece of ash." Hey, not just "nice" but damn fine "ash" and damn fine lovemaking that night, even if we got to home base pretty quickly. Jade Blue Afterglow? Testosterone overload for Mulder makes for one happy Scully. Sitting on the leather couch drinking beer, eating unbuttered popcorn and wrapped up like little baby cats.

The rain is pounding the windows again, but Scully isn’t looking for ghosts this time. Her heaviness makes it hard to sleep soundly, so she lights some candles, curls up with a cup of tea and listens to soft classical music. Even though she’s not convinced that classical music has any effect on unborn babies, she figures that it couldn’t hurt. Her mind mentally calculates the time. "Three months." she says softly to herself. And to the air around her she says, "It’s been three months, Mulder. Three dead months." Scully strokes her pregnant womb as she continues, "Oh Mulder, life without you is so hard. My God, so hard. I miss you more than I ever thought I could miss anyone. You’re in my thoughts every day and in my heart every night, but…" she stands and begins to snuff the candles. " I finally think I’ll be able to go on from here. For the first time since you….. left, I see a soft light at the end of a very long tunnel." She turns the music off, kisses the palm of her hand and holds it out saying softly, "Good night, Mulder."

The phone rings.

END