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It hadn't been a small service, though the size of the church made it seem so. Mostly co-workers, colleagues, fellow law-enforcement types. No family. Very few friends. It pained Scully to think that this is what Fox Mulder's life had boiled down to: an unceremonious death, and a funeral packed with acquaintances and the curious. Many of the faces in the crowd she recognized from the Bureau. Many of those she recognized as people who didn't think much of Mulder or his work. Their words lacked any sense of honesty or sincerity and she wanted to slap the next person who came up to her, took her hand and said "I'm so sorry, Dana". Instead, she smiled weakly and muttered a "thank you".
The last few days had blurred by. Arrangements had to be made and, while AD Skinner and Agent Doggett offered their assistance, she instead took it upon herself. The announcements, the flowers, which suit he would wear, the visitation, the service, the burial... In death it seemed there was more work than in life. Soon it would be over and lives would move forward. Rather, most lives would move forward. She failed to see how she could continue along the same path she'd been on all this time. It didn't seem right. When Mulder was missing, she had had the hope of his return. Now even that was taken from her.
She thought long and hard about what she would do. She had a child to consider... her child... their child. How could she return to work... to the X-Files, risking her life in the name of a futile quest? But it was a quest that meant everything to Mulder and it was the quest that eventually took his life. She was committed to finding the truth just as Mulder was but she had already suffered so much loss. Her initial reaction was to quit, settle down and raise her child as a doctor in some small, out of the way town where the only worry would be what to wear to the State Fair on Saturday... no talk of alien invasion... no autopsies to perform... no weapon to strap to her back every morning. But to do so would mean ignoring all that she had become. She was an investigative agent in the FBI. There was no changing that. She had given up a medical practice to work for the Bureau and, as much as she disliked watching her partner suffer or being shot at or being kidnapped (Mulder would say abducted...but "po-tay-toes, po-tah-toes"), she liked her job. It felt as though there was no other place for her.
Eventually, she had come to the conclusion to put off her decision. She had too much on her mind to influence what she was feeling and thinking. So she would continue as well as she could and make up her mind later. She told herself that was what was best... it wasn't denial... it wasn't throwing herself into work to ignore the pain underneath. And so what if it was? If that's what she needed to do to get through these next few months until the baby was born, she was more than entitled.
She watched as the last few people left the church parking lot. She had thought of hosting a gathering at her place. That's what was expected but she couldn't bring herself to do it. The funeral had been hard enough without inviting uncaring strangers into her home. That was akin to inviting their pity and that was the last thing she needed. Instead, she had asked only a few people back to her apartment. Her mom, Skinner, Agents Doggett and Reyes, and, of course, the Gunmen. She could trust these people. She knew they were hurting as well as she. They had been of tremendous support during Mulder's disappearance. Agent Reyes was a special case. She and Scully had only just met but Scully had felt a connection with her... Somehow Monica reminded her of Mulder. And, of course, she had helped find Mulder.
*******
As she led her friends into her apartment, Scully quietly took their coats and offered them seats. Earlier in the day, her mother had arrived with food... lots of food. It was as if she expected the entire Bureau even though Scully had told her that it would only be a few people. As Maggie busied herself in the kitchen, Scully played the hostess and handed out drinks of water, coffee, tea, soda... She wandered about, thoughtlessly, taking care of the smallest details - turning on lamps, turning off others, cracking a window, watering her fern, tidying her desk, laying out plates. A hand on her shoulder stopped her.
"Agent Scully," Doggett said quietly. "Why don't you sit? You've been on your feet all day. Your mom is taking care of everything and as far as the rest of us are concerned... well, we're pretty low maintenance." He smiled.
As she moved to sit, the quiet conversation stopped. It was exactly what she had been hoping to avoid. All eyes on her... everyone expecting her to finally say something - anything. Or for her to cry.
She glanced around at all the concerned faces. "I'm fine," she lied.
A smile flickered on Skinner's face as he tried in vain to calculate how many times he'd heard her say those words.
"Look, I don't mean for this to be uncomfortable," she continued. "I asked you here because I know that in some way you're all invested in what happened to Mulder and that you care about him in some way." She was lying. She told herself she wanted them here so they could move through their grief; so they could talk about Mulder and celebrate his life. But the real reason was far too weighty for her to be able to hide.
"I asked you here because you care about me," she said quietly. She cleared her throat and willed the tears away. "I wanted to thank all of you for what you've done to support me and to help me find him. It means everything to me."
Everyone was silent, fully aware of how difficult that had been for her, yet proud she thought so much of them to trust them with her feelings. Frohike, himself shattered at Mulder's death, took it upon himself to change the mood. To lift her spirits if only slightly and if only briefly.
"Mulder's the only nerd I know who wears Armani."
Scully raised her head a little and slowly turned to Frohike, a confused look on her face. "What?"
"Mulder's the only nerd I know who wears Armani," he repeated.
"I heard what you said. You think Mulder's a nerd?"
"Mulder would be the prototypical nerd if he weren't so good looking. Otherwise, he's a geek in every essence of the word."
"He is not," Scully protested, mildly amused that Frohike saw Mulder this way. Consider the source, after all.
Frohike shifted and turned to face Scully head on, his face serious. "Scully... Mulder knew every line of dialogue from Planet Of The Apes, he used e-mail five years before the rest of the world, he knew the term 'texture wrap' AND used it in a proper sentence, he rarely went on a date and, on more than one occasion, I saw him wear white socks with black shoes. That, my dear, is what we call a 'geek'."
Scully sat stunned. Frohike was serious. So serious. Suddenly, she burst out laughing as she realized how true it was. "Mulder was such a nerd," she said through her chuckles. "I guess it was all a part of his charm".
That broke the spell. They moved from topic to topic seamlessly as if this strange, diverse group somehow belonged together. Skinner, the Gunmen and Maggie each told stories about Mulder. Some were funny, some were nostalgic, others added further proof of his nerdiness. Agent Doggett and Agent Reyes, while never knowing Mulder, felt perfectly at ease, enjoying the stories and adding bits of information as they fit. They ate and laughed and cried a bit. All in the name of Mulder. Scully remained mostly quiet but was intently listening to every detail, marveling at how wonderful it was that Mulder was able to unite all of these people. She knew that he was somewhere, watching and protesting his new label. She absently rubbed a hand over her swelling belly, silently thanking Mulder for the thousandth time for his gift to her.
*******
Agent Reyes was the first to go. She had to get back to her assignment in New Orleans. When she stood, everyone got up with her. She shook hands with Maggie and Doggett and mentioned that it was nice to see everyone. Scully walked her to the door.
"Thank you for staying," Scully said. "I know you didn't know Mulder but I have a feeling he would have liked you very much."
"You don't have to thank me, Dana. If there's anything you need, just give me a call. I hope we can work together again... and under better circumstances." Monica smiled and pulled Scully into an impromptu and gentle hug. Normally Scully would resist but she was too tired and she knew that the sentiment was true.
Scully smiled. "Thank you Monica. Have a safe trip."
With a smile and a wave, Reyes left. As Scully closed the door, she heard the immortal and unmistakable words of Melvin Frohike... "She's hot."
The evening continued with stories, food, drink and comfortable silences. Slowly, everyone started to file out. Maggie and Skinner stayed behind to help clear the dishes and put away the food. Maggie looked nearly as exhausted as her daughter and Scully noticed her yawn more than once as she fumbled with the Tupperware.
"Mom, why don't you go? You've done enough already. I can take care of the rest of this."
"That's ok, Dana. I don't mind. You need your rest as much as I do."
"Yes, but I don't have a 40 minute drive ahead of me. Now, I don't want to hear an argument." Scully imitated the speeches she used to hear as a teenager. "I know what's best. You go home and rest."
Maggie smiled weakly and nodded as Dana started to herd her towards the door. "Alright. I'll go. But I don't want to hear about you staying up until all hours cleaning up this mess. You've got another long day tomorrow."
Tomorrow was the burial. That would be hard. Maggie had made arrangements to drive Scully to Raleigh for the short graveside service. They expected a fraction of the people they saw today which was just as well as Scully wasn't sure she'd be able to keep it together as well as she did today. The burial process was the last, final step to putting Mulder to rest. It meant it was over and not a dream. She closed her eyes as she considered the pain tomorrow would bring.
"I'll be fine, mom," she said, only half reassuringly. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay. Goodnight, sweetie." They hugged. "Get some rest."
Skinner walked into the living room just as Maggie was leaving. He motioned for his jacket but stopped when he saw Scully. She was leaning against the door, putting a little too much effort into keeping it closed.
"Agent Scully... are you alright?"
She righted herself and blinked back the swell of tears. "I'm fine."
He wasn't buying it. She could tell by the way he looked at her. Could it be that he knows her secret? That when she says she's fine, she's usually the absolute opposite?
"I'm not buying it, Dana."
She had her answer.
Skinner walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to lie to me. I can see that you're not 'fine'. And it's ok to admit it."
She tensed under the pressure of his hand, breaking the contact. She moved through the living room and into the kitchen where she went to work on the pile of dishes that Maggie hadn't gotten to. Like a robot, she filled the sink with fresh, hot water and soap. She picked up the sponge and a dish and started her chore, all too aware of Skinner's eyes on her and the concern they showed.
"If you're going to stand there anyway, you may as well help by drying," she said.
He smiled and moved next to her. He glanced down and noticed the dishwasher under the counter right next to the sink. "Any particular reason you're not using the washing machine for this?"
Thankful for any topic of conversation, Scully told him all about the minor flood she'd had about a month ago. The super mumbled something about a connection being loose and a hose that wouldn't stay put and left for "supplies", never to return. "I haven't gotten to fixing it myself or tracking him down. Sometimes I forget and load it anyway only to be reminded when I step in a puddle."
"Handy," Skinner said in reply as he grabbed a plate.
They continued in silence, washing and drying the last of the forks and spoons. He was just catching up the end of the long line of dishes when she pulled the plug on the drain. He watched her watch the water spiral down, her hand clenching the sponge... tighter and tighter. He looked at her face and saw the anguish that she had been able to hide so well all day long. As it threatened to pull her under, he set aside the towel and the forks he held in his hand, his heart breaking. He hated to see her like this, mostly, he surmised, because it happened so infrequently. He could only imagine the weight of her sadness that would cause a break in her veneer like this. He'd watched her tell him, stone faced, that she had cancer. She'd related the story of how she'd found - and lost - Emily and she hadn't shed a tear. She'd been through so many triumphs and hardships and, while she'd always been passionate, she'd always been composed. She was quickly losing that composure now.
"I can't believe he's gone," she said through her tears. "It's so unfair. I did everything I was supposed to do... I searched for him, I prayed for him, I never gave up hope. After all that's happened to him and to me, how could God do this? Why?"
The questions came out one right after the other as she twisted the sponge and closed her eyes as tight as should could stand. Skinner let her be, allowing her grief to wash over her. He knew that eventually she would have to face it and let go of her pain. She'd come close once or twice in his presence as they were searching for Mulder but while there was still hope that he'd be found alive, she wouldn't allow herself to give into it. But now, he knew from experience... if she didn't let go, it would drag her down and bury her along side Mulder.
Scully's shoulders shook slightly as she gave in to her emotion. She was so tired and so scared and so many different things. She was only mildly aware of Skinner's presence beside her and she didn't care. That was a lie, she told herself. She was glad he was there. He knew, more than anyone, what this loss was to her. He felt it too. He felt responsible. He felt he had let her down... let Mulder down. He was the first to know about the baby. She'd told him after he'd come to tell her about Mulder. She could see the pain and the tears in his eyes then and she could see them in his eyes now. Without delay and without thought, she moved to him and put her head on his chest, asking wordlessly for comfort and offering what comfort she could in return.
He eased his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. The room was dead silent as they held onto each other for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Scully regained her awareness and pulled out of the embrace, a touch embarrassed and very tired.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he replied. "You're allowed all of the feelings you have, Dana. You don't need to apologize to me for anything."
He moved closer to her, put his hands on her shoulders, and looked into her eyes. "I know that technically I'm your boss but I'd also like to think of myself as your friend, Dana. I want you to know that you can come to me for anything. Anything at all. Even if it's to ask me to fix your dishwasher."
She smiled.
"I mean it," he continued. "You don't need to be embarrassed because you're sad or because you need someone. I know you care for Mulder deeply... probably more than I could possibly realize. Maybe more than you realize. I'm sad too. I wish more than anything I could change what happened. I wish I could make this go away and bring him back but I can't. It's up to us to move on and to do that we need to face our feelings, our thoughts, our fears head on. I *know* that's what Mulder would want. You've got a lot of changes headed your way. This baby is going to need all of you. You won't be able to fake your way through motherhood, hiding all of your feelings. You'll only be a shell of who you are if you do that."
Scully smiled at the mention of the baby. She had wanted this child so badly and had gone through the emotional ringer in her attempts. She was about to tell Skinner that never in her life had she cried as much as she had this last year but she knew that he was right. If she felt like crying, then she should just do it. Lord knows her hormones would be conducive to that inclination and right now she was just too tired to fight the urge anymore.
"Thank you, sir," she said quietly as she moved into his arms again, this time able to breathe. She truly believed he understood and felt what she was feeling - at least to some extent. And while there have been times when she wasn't sure she could trust Skinner, he had long since proven his reliability and his devotion to the truth. He had been a great comfort to her since Mulder disappeared, at times stepping into Mulder's shoes in their fight against the world. He'd seen what he'd seen and he wasn't going to deny it. He'd ensconced himself fully in the role of the believer, as had she. No one left on the earth could possibly understand the things she'd seen and done except Skinner. Suddenly, she no longer felt so alone. She no longer felt shame in permitting someone to comfort her. Having Skinner's arms around her allowed her to feel safe and at ease... this, despite her loss. She felt as though it were Mulder holding her. Or her father. And she knew now that even without Mulder, she could go on. She had to. For herself. For the baby. For Mulder.
END