A Winter's Tale, Part 18
Jan. 8th, 2008 09:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anjouficTitle: A Winter's Tale 18/23
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
comice aka Anjou (Anjou@rocketmail.com)
Posting Date: December 2007/January 2008
Rating: R for language and sexuality; M for Mature readers
Classification: Mulder/Scully, UST/MSR, AU
Archive: No archival until the story is completed, please. I'll be submitting to Ephemeral and Gossamer myself.
Spoilers: Through Two Fathers/One Son (S6), then AU. In other words, no Arcadia and beyond. Mytharc-y.
Disclaimer: All X-Files personnel belong to 1013 and Fox. All other elements are mine.
Author's Note: I've been really swamped by real life this week, so my apologies if I haven't thanked you for your feedback. I will get to it, and soon!
This is a short entry, but I promise you that this is the last short one. The next few sections are all long, but this was the logical breaking point.
Thanks so much for going on this ride with me. I'm holding firm to finishing posting by Sunday, January 13th.
Daily posts can be read on my fic journal:anjoufic, as well as Ephemeral and other XF fic sites. The whole tale will be archived at my website, No Other … , maintained by the generous dtg, when it is completed.
As always, thanks to my sister and editrix, Suzanne, for her support.
Summary: Cast your memory back to the dark days of Season 6, to the period immediately following the confrontation between Mulder and Scully in the Gunmen's Office. It is late winter, dark and cold, the landscape obscured and transformed by snow and ice. One must step carefully, for the very ground can be treacherous. This is a lesson Mulder and Scully have already learned when the pristine snow in Antartica yielded a long-buried secret. But the winter can hold many secrets, and could tell many tales, if it so chose.
This is but one.
~*~
Two hours later, she was still waiting for Mulder to return.
Hannah had fallen asleep only after being reassured repeatedly that Mulder would come back, that he would never leave her. No matter how angry Scully was at him for leaving them, she didn't hesitate to make the promise. She knew that it was true. He would come back. The problem was that she didn't have the luxury of waiting for him. If he didn't come back right away, she would have to force the issue, as hypocritical as that would seem to him.
Last winter, when she'd finally made him tell her everything he knew about her ova, she had rewarded his honesty by fleeing. When he'd told her of his dealings with the Kurt Crawfords in the lab in Allentown, and what she now realized was a carefully edited version of his dealings with Dr. Calderon, he'd tried to make her confront the possibility that there were other children like Emily in the world.
She'd gotten up from his couch and walked out of his apartment.
She hadn't answered her phone for three days and she hadn't gone home, either. She'd driven toward the sea after driving aimlessly for hours, staying at an anonymous motel on the Maryland coast, paying cash for her room. She'd gone for long walks and thought about nothing at all, barely eating and not sleeping because when she did, her dreams were hideous, full of images of her distended belly and green-blooded, toxic children.
When she'd finally returned to work on a Wednesday, hollow-eyed and gaunt with exhaustion, she'd ignored the fact that he looked little better than she, or that his face was awash with guilt and sorrow. Instead, she'd made it very clear to him that she did not intend to discuss the subject any further. Ever. She knew that she'd frightened him very badly by leaving.
He had never brought it up again.
They were masters of avoidance, the both of them, a matched set. That was going to have to end, because it wasn't just about them anymore. She shifted carefully off Hannah's hospital bed, then double-checked the silent cellphone on the bedside table to make sure that she hadn't missed a call. Mulder's suit and over coat were still slung over the visitor chair, as if he'd be back any minute. She'd pointed that out to Hannah while calming her for the first of many times, before she excused herself to the hall to get Frohike to put a trace on Mulder's cellphone, which she hoped was still in the car with him.
Frohike had only grudgingly agreed to do so after she insisted. He didn't understand why she wouldn't just call Mulder and 'kick his punk ass', but she had refused to explain what was going on. It was too personal, and she wouldn't discuss it with Frohike before she did so with Mulder. Her explanation that Mulder had received some upsetting news was met with sarcastic commentary about Diana Fowley and Mulder's relative level of maturity, which made her smile, but sadly. Frohike was nothing if not loyal to her, but she knew that at least half of his anger at Mulder stemmed from his disappointment in a man for whom he had a certain level of hero worship.
She wondered how the Gunmen would feel when they learned everything that had been revealed to them today. Mulder was even more extraordinary than Frohike had ever imagined, and for no other reason than some random combination of his parent's genes. It was as oddly fitting as it was horrendous to contemplate, the idea that Mulder would remain one of the last few humans on this vast planet should the invasion he'd always foreseen actually occur. It was beyond crazy; it was science fiction, a genre she'd never had an ounce of fondness for, much less a desire to live out.
She walked around the room restlessly. This insanity was her life now, and everything that had been done to her, everything that she had withstood, probably guaranteed that if Mulder were the last man standing, she'd be right there by his side. And Hannah … Kurt was concerned that her immune system was not as mature as it needed to be to combat terrestrial illnesses because of her alien genomic material, but he was working on an avenue of gene therapy that would require Mulder's cooperation. If that worked, then Hannah would be with them. Provided that they could protect her. If Kurt could create a viable therapy in the first place. If Mulder came back. If, if, if … she stared at the silent phone in her hands, willing it to ring, wanting to throttle Mulder and hug him at the same time.
She looked at Hannah, sleeping in the hospital bed, arms wrapped around her tiger. Mulder had stuffed it into his overcoat pocket before they left the motel this morning, knowing that Hannah would need it to comfort herself. She felt a smile blooming on her lips at the proof that Mulder had already been a good father to Hannah, simply when he was being himself. He was a good man, possibly the best she'd ever known, despite the sorrow and the irritation that life with him guaranteed her.
Looking at Hannah, she wondered how it was that she had never seen what was now so obvious. Hannah's full mouth was opened slightly as she breathed deeply and evenly, occasional wheezes escaping her. Scully could see Mulder's reflection in Hannah's long limbs, the shape of her face, the tangle of long lashes that surrounded her unusually dark blue eyes. His genetic heritage had underwritten her own to create this child; their families had recombined in her, Hannah's wild mane a contribution from both of her lost aunts.
Melissa would have loved Hannah, she thought with a pang. There was a kind of whimsy about them both that even as a girl Dana Scully had not had. Melissa and Hannah would have whispered secrets to each other; Melissa would have spoiled her with gifts and told her fairy tales, filling her head with lyrical nonsense.
But then again, Mulder would do that anyway … wouldn't he?
~*~
The Kurt with whom she'd spent the most time was dubious about her following Mulder back to the motel, but from Frohike's tracking, that appeared to be his most likely destination. In her heart of hearts, she didn't truly believe that he was packing up to leave her and Hannah. He was probably going to get a warm coat -- or more likely, to plan his vengeance on Dr. Scanlon, but she wasn't about to stand by and wait for the next phone call. Those days were over, a promise she'd made to a sleeping Hannah when she kissed her goodbye, after impressing upon the infirmary Kurt the necessity of calling her if Hannah awoke before she and Mulder returned.
She walked across the paved blacktop toward their motel room in her sturdy new boots, leaving the worried clone at the entrance to the parking lot. The night was clear and cold, with dizzying swirls of stars scattered across the sky. The moon was just a sliver, barely visible above the western horizon, its dim reflective light no competition for the brilliance of the late winter constellations. She recognized the planet Jupiter, shining hard and bright above the thumbnail moon. A sailor's daughter still, she knew the patterns of the universe in their seasons, could rely upon them to light her way in case she needed to navigate unfamiliar waters. Today was the first day of the lunar month, a day appropriate for starting new patterns of behaviour, Melissa had always told her. Winter, despite the piles of snow visible all around her, was ending in just a couple of days. It was St. Patrick's Day, and St. Joseph's Day was just around the corner.
She wasn't superstitious, but even she could not ignore such a confluence of positive signs. She would take all the help she could get, supernatural or otherwise, to get her through these next few minutes.
A hand on the hood of their rental car assured her that Mulder hadn't been back in the room long. As she drew closer to the door of their motel room, she was startled to hear the sounds of a struggle coming from inside. She thought grimly of the chip in her neck, and drew her gun, sure that they'd been discovered. She peered in at the windows, but could see nothing through the tightly drawn curtains. Inside, the sounds of crashing and breaking wood continued.
She tested the doorknob. To her surprise, it gave easily. She didn't hesitate, coming in low with her gun drawn, forgoing announcing her presence. Just this one time, she wanted to have the element of surprise on her side.
Part 19
Author:
comice aka Anjou (Anjou@rocketmail.com)Posting Date: December 2007/January 2008
Rating: R for language and sexuality; M for Mature readers
Classification: Mulder/Scully, UST/MSR, AU
Archive: No archival until the story is completed, please. I'll be submitting to Ephemeral and Gossamer myself.
Spoilers: Through Two Fathers/One Son (S6), then AU. In other words, no Arcadia and beyond. Mytharc-y.
Disclaimer: All X-Files personnel belong to 1013 and Fox. All other elements are mine.
Author's Note: I've been really swamped by real life this week, so my apologies if I haven't thanked you for your feedback. I will get to it, and soon!
This is a short entry, but I promise you that this is the last short one. The next few sections are all long, but this was the logical breaking point.
Thanks so much for going on this ride with me. I'm holding firm to finishing posting by Sunday, January 13th.
Daily posts can be read on my fic journal:
anjoufic, as well as Ephemeral and other XF fic sites. The whole tale will be archived at my website, No Other … , maintained by the generous dtg, when it is completed.As always, thanks to my sister and editrix, Suzanne, for her support.
Summary: Cast your memory back to the dark days of Season 6, to the period immediately following the confrontation between Mulder and Scully in the Gunmen's Office. It is late winter, dark and cold, the landscape obscured and transformed by snow and ice. One must step carefully, for the very ground can be treacherous. This is a lesson Mulder and Scully have already learned when the pristine snow in Antartica yielded a long-buried secret. But the winter can hold many secrets, and could tell many tales, if it so chose.
This is but one.
~*~
Two hours later, she was still waiting for Mulder to return.
Hannah had fallen asleep only after being reassured repeatedly that Mulder would come back, that he would never leave her. No matter how angry Scully was at him for leaving them, she didn't hesitate to make the promise. She knew that it was true. He would come back. The problem was that she didn't have the luxury of waiting for him. If he didn't come back right away, she would have to force the issue, as hypocritical as that would seem to him.
Last winter, when she'd finally made him tell her everything he knew about her ova, she had rewarded his honesty by fleeing. When he'd told her of his dealings with the Kurt Crawfords in the lab in Allentown, and what she now realized was a carefully edited version of his dealings with Dr. Calderon, he'd tried to make her confront the possibility that there were other children like Emily in the world.
She'd gotten up from his couch and walked out of his apartment.
She hadn't answered her phone for three days and she hadn't gone home, either. She'd driven toward the sea after driving aimlessly for hours, staying at an anonymous motel on the Maryland coast, paying cash for her room. She'd gone for long walks and thought about nothing at all, barely eating and not sleeping because when she did, her dreams were hideous, full of images of her distended belly and green-blooded, toxic children.
When she'd finally returned to work on a Wednesday, hollow-eyed and gaunt with exhaustion, she'd ignored the fact that he looked little better than she, or that his face was awash with guilt and sorrow. Instead, she'd made it very clear to him that she did not intend to discuss the subject any further. Ever. She knew that she'd frightened him very badly by leaving.
He had never brought it up again.
They were masters of avoidance, the both of them, a matched set. That was going to have to end, because it wasn't just about them anymore. She shifted carefully off Hannah's hospital bed, then double-checked the silent cellphone on the bedside table to make sure that she hadn't missed a call. Mulder's suit and over coat were still slung over the visitor chair, as if he'd be back any minute. She'd pointed that out to Hannah while calming her for the first of many times, before she excused herself to the hall to get Frohike to put a trace on Mulder's cellphone, which she hoped was still in the car with him.
Frohike had only grudgingly agreed to do so after she insisted. He didn't understand why she wouldn't just call Mulder and 'kick his punk ass', but she had refused to explain what was going on. It was too personal, and she wouldn't discuss it with Frohike before she did so with Mulder. Her explanation that Mulder had received some upsetting news was met with sarcastic commentary about Diana Fowley and Mulder's relative level of maturity, which made her smile, but sadly. Frohike was nothing if not loyal to her, but she knew that at least half of his anger at Mulder stemmed from his disappointment in a man for whom he had a certain level of hero worship.
She wondered how the Gunmen would feel when they learned everything that had been revealed to them today. Mulder was even more extraordinary than Frohike had ever imagined, and for no other reason than some random combination of his parent's genes. It was as oddly fitting as it was horrendous to contemplate, the idea that Mulder would remain one of the last few humans on this vast planet should the invasion he'd always foreseen actually occur. It was beyond crazy; it was science fiction, a genre she'd never had an ounce of fondness for, much less a desire to live out.
She walked around the room restlessly. This insanity was her life now, and everything that had been done to her, everything that she had withstood, probably guaranteed that if Mulder were the last man standing, she'd be right there by his side. And Hannah … Kurt was concerned that her immune system was not as mature as it needed to be to combat terrestrial illnesses because of her alien genomic material, but he was working on an avenue of gene therapy that would require Mulder's cooperation. If that worked, then Hannah would be with them. Provided that they could protect her. If Kurt could create a viable therapy in the first place. If Mulder came back. If, if, if … she stared at the silent phone in her hands, willing it to ring, wanting to throttle Mulder and hug him at the same time.
She looked at Hannah, sleeping in the hospital bed, arms wrapped around her tiger. Mulder had stuffed it into his overcoat pocket before they left the motel this morning, knowing that Hannah would need it to comfort herself. She felt a smile blooming on her lips at the proof that Mulder had already been a good father to Hannah, simply when he was being himself. He was a good man, possibly the best she'd ever known, despite the sorrow and the irritation that life with him guaranteed her.
Looking at Hannah, she wondered how it was that she had never seen what was now so obvious. Hannah's full mouth was opened slightly as she breathed deeply and evenly, occasional wheezes escaping her. Scully could see Mulder's reflection in Hannah's long limbs, the shape of her face, the tangle of long lashes that surrounded her unusually dark blue eyes. His genetic heritage had underwritten her own to create this child; their families had recombined in her, Hannah's wild mane a contribution from both of her lost aunts.
Melissa would have loved Hannah, she thought with a pang. There was a kind of whimsy about them both that even as a girl Dana Scully had not had. Melissa and Hannah would have whispered secrets to each other; Melissa would have spoiled her with gifts and told her fairy tales, filling her head with lyrical nonsense.
But then again, Mulder would do that anyway … wouldn't he?
~*~
The Kurt with whom she'd spent the most time was dubious about her following Mulder back to the motel, but from Frohike's tracking, that appeared to be his most likely destination. In her heart of hearts, she didn't truly believe that he was packing up to leave her and Hannah. He was probably going to get a warm coat -- or more likely, to plan his vengeance on Dr. Scanlon, but she wasn't about to stand by and wait for the next phone call. Those days were over, a promise she'd made to a sleeping Hannah when she kissed her goodbye, after impressing upon the infirmary Kurt the necessity of calling her if Hannah awoke before she and Mulder returned.
She walked across the paved blacktop toward their motel room in her sturdy new boots, leaving the worried clone at the entrance to the parking lot. The night was clear and cold, with dizzying swirls of stars scattered across the sky. The moon was just a sliver, barely visible above the western horizon, its dim reflective light no competition for the brilliance of the late winter constellations. She recognized the planet Jupiter, shining hard and bright above the thumbnail moon. A sailor's daughter still, she knew the patterns of the universe in their seasons, could rely upon them to light her way in case she needed to navigate unfamiliar waters. Today was the first day of the lunar month, a day appropriate for starting new patterns of behaviour, Melissa had always told her. Winter, despite the piles of snow visible all around her, was ending in just a couple of days. It was St. Patrick's Day, and St. Joseph's Day was just around the corner.
She wasn't superstitious, but even she could not ignore such a confluence of positive signs. She would take all the help she could get, supernatural or otherwise, to get her through these next few minutes.
A hand on the hood of their rental car assured her that Mulder hadn't been back in the room long. As she drew closer to the door of their motel room, she was startled to hear the sounds of a struggle coming from inside. She thought grimly of the chip in her neck, and drew her gun, sure that they'd been discovered. She peered in at the windows, but could see nothing through the tightly drawn curtains. Inside, the sounds of crashing and breaking wood continued.
She tested the doorknob. To her surprise, it gave easily. She didn't hesitate, coming in low with her gun drawn, forgoing announcing her presence. Just this one time, she wanted to have the element of surprise on her side.
Part 19
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-01-09 03:55 am (UTC)Attack of the cliffhanger! And I thought the other chapter endings were tantalizing enough...
But Scully's hope is very reassuring.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-12 03:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-12 03:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-09 04:06 am (UTC):::scrolly:::
:::SCROLLY:::
No more?
AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!
no subject
Date: 2008-01-12 03:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-09 06:05 am (UTC)Awesome chapter :)
no subject
Date: 2008-01-12 03:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-09 07:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-12 03:52 pm (UTC)