Another Gray Morning

Title: Another Gray Morning
Author: ML
Distribution:  Anywhere you like, as long as you let me know
Spoilers: Requiem, minor others Rating: all ages
Classification: A, MSR
Summary:  Don’t be put off by the title. Try it, I think you’ll  like it.
Disclaimer: All the characters named in this story belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, and FOX. I mean no infringement, and I’m not making any money.

For Teresa, because I wrote it on her birthday.

Another Gray Morning
by ML

There is a moment each morning, between dreams and waking,  when everything seems normal.  The radio murmurs to itself  before the alarm goes off, and she tells herself <time to  get up, get ready for work, is it your turn to bring the  bagels?>

It’s a remembering to a time before everything went to hell.   If only she could live in these moments.  The anticipation of  seeing her partner in an hour or so, the innuendo-laden banter,  the thrill of his touch.  Even the uncertainty of not knowing  whether or not he felt the same way she did, and just hid it  well with his flippant comments.  If she’d known how things  were going to turn out, maybe she would never have given in to  her desire.  Mulder was even more right than he knew when he  said the personal costs were too high.

They have both paid over and over again, though Scully can  no longer say she has nothing to show for it.  She hears  the baby stirring in his crib and gets up to face another  day.

After taking care of the baby, she stands at the window  with her herb tea, staring out to nothing, thinking about  nothing.  It’s just another gray morning, a not so good  morning.

The weather has been uniformly gray for what seems like  months.  It suits her mood.  She is still recovering from  the baby’s birth.  She spent the last eight weeks of her pregnancy  in bed, and eventually had to have a C-section.  She is still sore  and has some difficulty moving around.  She hates feeling so  helpless, it makes her want to cry with frustration.  That seems  to be the only emotion she’s capable of these days.

Part of her knows that she is probably suffering from post-partum  depression, a normal state of affairs for many new mothers.   Certainly she deserves to feel depressed under the circumstances.

She’s had her share of anger and grief over the past months.   She carried on her own investigation as long as she could,  until the doctor told her she was in danger of toxemia if she  didn’t have complete bed rest.  He recommended that anything  that was causing her undue stress should be avoided.  It was  an impossible situation for her.  It was bad enough that she  could not actively participate in the hunt for Mulder, but  that it should be a subject she avoid entirely was impossible.   That would surely cause her more stress.

It’s the not knowing that causes her the most upset.  There’s  been no news, no word, nothing at all to indicate where Mulder  and his fellow abductees have gone.  Krycek and Marita had  disappeared at about the same time as Mulder, though Scully  is pretty sure they were not involved in the actual abduction.   CGB Spender had been found dead not long after Mulder’s  disappearance, and his nurse named Krycek and Marita as the  culprits.

Her mother stayed with her the first week after she came home  from the hospital.  Maggie Scully had tried to convince her that  she should come home with her, but Scully wouldn’t leave her  apartment.  “It’s the first place he’ll come to,” she insisted,  and Mrs. Scully relented. As comforting as it was to have her  mother near, she was relieved when she felt able to care for  herself and the baby and her mother could content herself with  daily calls instead.  Not that she lacked for visitors, even  after Maggie Scully went home.

The pattern of visits established themselves that first week.   Every day, she can expect one of the Gunmen, or Skinner, or  sometimes both.  No one stays very long, not wanting to tire  her out too much, and she tires so easily still.  But they  tell her what, if anything, they’ve found out.  Usually there  is nothing to report but they all seem anxious to reassure her  that they haven’t given up.

Unlike the FBI.  Skinner came personally to break the news to  her that the official investigation was closed.  Mulder was  now officially an unsolved case.  She feels sorry for Skinner,  always being the bearer of bad news.  She knows he is still  making inquiries unofficially, and she discovered not long ago  that he has been in regular contact with the Gunmen.

Right on schedule, she hears a knock on the door.  She guesses  it will be Frohike today; it’s his turn.  Sure enough, she sees  his gnomic face grinning at the peephole.

“Hi, pretty lady,” he says as he saunters in.  “How’re you doing  today?  How’s Junior?”

Scully looks at him with affection.  She likes Frohike the best  of the three Gunmen, she thinks.  He’s the one who seems the  most affected by Mulder’s abduction.  She remembers when Mulder  went missing and was presumed dead in New Mexico, Frohike was  the one who came to see her, knowing she needed the company as  much as he did.

“Come see him.” She leads him into her bedroom, where the crib  is.  The baby is asleep already after his breakfast.  As always,  Scully’s heart crinkles up with love and sadness when she looks  at him.  Already she can see he will have his father’s nose and  feet, and Mom said his legs were longer than average for a baby.   Who knows whether he will attain his father’s height, but Scully  just hopes that he grows up to be taller than she is.  And that  he will grow up without the pain and sadness that marked his  father’s childhood.

“Brought him something,” Frohike says, and holds up a tiny tee  shirt.  It’s black, and it has the logo for The Magic Bullet on  the front.  Scully smiles a little and says thanks.

Frohike now follows her out to the kitchen and she makes him  some coffee.  What she wouldn’t give for a cup, strong and black  and laced with cream.  But she’s given up caffeine until after  the baby is weaned.  Decaf doesn’t appeal to her at all; she’d  just rather not have any.  Still, she enjoys the smell when  others have it.

He sits companionably with her, telling her silly stories.   Byers and Langly, when it’s their turn, nearly always refuse  refreshment, and stay only long enough to see if she needs  anything, and to give her the usual no news about Mulder they  seem so embarrassed to admit to.  She doesn’t blame them,  doesn’t blame Skinner; she doesn’t even blame Mulder any more.   There was a period of time when she felt very angry toward  Mulder, though she knew in her heart it wasn’t his fault  either.  She believes They wanted him, and if he hadn’t gone  to Oregon, They would have found another way to get him.

The phone rings while they sit at the kitchen table.  Scully  knows it’s probably either Skinner or her mother.  No one else  calls her any more.

It’s Byers.  “Scully, is Frohike still there?”  Scully hands the  phone over to him.

Frohike listens for a moment.  “Are you sure?” he asks.  He  listens a little longer.  “Did you call Skinner?  Well, call  him now!”  He hangs up the phone and looks at Scully for a  long moment before he says, “A couple of abductees have turned  up in Oregon.  We’re not sure who yet, Byers is finding out what  he can.”  He reaches out to Scully, and takes her hand.  It’s  very unusual for Frohike to touch Scully; unlike the man he  reveres, he’s always been very respectful about her personal  space.  “Keep your chin up, Scully.  You know he’ll find his  way back if he can.”  He pats her hand and says goodbye.

Skinner calls on his way to the airport.  “It’s not Mulder,  Scully.  But maybe we’ll get some idea of what’s going on from  the ones who have come back.”

For the first time in a long time, Scully thinks that maybe  there’s still a sun behind those clouds.

xxxxxx

The abductees start coming back in a trickle; there are so  many more than could be accounted for from the one incident  in Oregon.  Most seemed to be returned near the place they  were taken.  All are interviewed upon their return, with Skinner overseeing the whole operation.  God knows what the Department  of  Justice thought of all this, or what favors Skinner called  in to make this happen.  He establishes returnee centers at any  location where returnees are reported.  The Gunmen are in charge  of informing him of new developments through their contacts with  MUFON and other organizations.

Skinner personally takes charge of interviewing the returnees  in Oregon.  He calls Scully every day to let her know what’s  happening.   So far, no one can tell him anything about Mulder’s  whereabouts.  For most abductees, memories of their time away  are vague.

Scully wants to be there in Oregon, interviewing the returnees as  well.  She trusts Skinner, but what if he overlooks something?   She knows she can’t go.  She won’t take the baby anywhere eveb  remotely dangerous, and she won’t go without him. She’s stuck  with the same role she’s had for some time now, waiting and  hoping.

Days, then weeks pass.  The number of new returnees diminishes.   Not everyone is accounted for yet.  Mulder is not the only one  still missing.  She doesn’t want to think about what this might  mean, or what the sudden return of so many abductees might mean.

The brief bout of hope has worn her down.  Now she gets up in  the morning, feeds and changes the baby, holds him and talks to  him until he’s ready to sleep again, and goes back to bed.  She  hasn’t the energy for anything else.  The Gunmen are busier now,  so she gets phone calls rather than visits from them, except  for the occasional Frohike appearance.  Her mother offers to  come stay with her again, but she declines her offer.  She has  no energy for anyone but the baby.  She hasn’t even energy for  herself.  She eats and drinks because the baby’s health could  be affected otherwise.

xxxxxx

“Scully,” Skinner says.  “I have some news for you.  I can’t tell  you over the phone.  I’m coming back to DC, but it’s likely to be  late.  Do you mind if I come over tonight?”

“It’s fine,” she says.  She doesn’t want to hope.  It’s hard to  believe that what Skinner has to tell her is good news.  Wouldn’t  he tell her right away if it is?  She wanders around her  apartment, picking things up at random and putting them down  again.  She calculates the number of hours before she can expect  to see Skinner.  She tends the baby, feeds him, bathes him.  She  holds him for a long time, inspecting his tiny hands and feet,  looking into his solemn eyes, shaped so much like Mulder’s.   What will he think when he finally meets his son?  What will  he say?  Eventually the baby falls asleep and she takes him  back to his crib.

She crawls into bed herself, still clothed in tee shirt and  leggings.  She doesn’t think she’ll be able to sleep until  after she hears what Skinner has to say.    No point in getting  her hopes up again, she tells herself; she’s been through this  too many times before.  She slips into a fitful doze.

Some time later, she is aware of a hand holding hers.  Where is  she?  Is she in the hospital again?  Is she ill?  Has she been  wounded?  Is she dreaming?  She runs over all the possible  scenarios in her mind.  There have been so many bedside scenes  in her life.  The slow return to reality, the sound of beeping  monitors, the reassuring clasp of a familiar hand, maybe a thumb  softly caressing her knuckles.  She’s had this dream before.   She wants to stay in it a little longer.

Sure enough, as soon as she begins to wake up, the feeling of  his hand is gone.  But now there’s something else, the rustling  of sheets behind her, the dip and sag of the mattress on the  empty side of the bed, and the gradual warmth and pressure of  a body next to hers.

This is too cruel.  She feels the tears start in her eyes  again and squeeze out from under her eyelids.  Why does her  mind have to play such tricks on her?  A long, shuddering  sob wracks her body.

Incredibly, as if in response to her distress, she feels an arm  snake over her waist and pull her back.  A familiar whisper  ruffles the hair on her neck.  “Shhh….it’s okay, Scully,  I’m here, I’ve got you.  Don’t cry, it’s gonna be okay now.”

It’s the same voice she’s heard in her dreams for months,  saying words she’s afraid she’ll never hear again.  This  can’t be real.  It’s not really happening…

She’s really crying now, deep tearing sobs as she huddles  into herself, trying to escape the phantom sensation.  But  it persists.  A hand grasps her shoulder, tries to turn her  to face what she cannot face.

“Hey Scully, aren’t you going to talk to me ever again? I’m  late, I know, I’m really, *really* late, and I’m sorry, but  I’m here now.”  A soft kiss on the back of her neck.  It  *feels* like him, it sounds so like him, just the sort of  nonsense he would indulge in at such a serious moment.  It’s  not logical, it makes no sense at all.  So maybe it really  *is* him after all.  Very slowly, still trying to catch her  breath from crying, eyes squeezed shut, she allows the hand  to pull her over.  She opens eyelids sticky with tears, so  afraid, yet so hopeful.

It is him.  It is him.  It is him.

xxxxxx

In the living room, the Gunmen and Skinner sit quietly, not  looking at each other.  The door to the bedroom is shut.   Frohike gets up and makes as if to wander toward it, but  Byers grabs his arm.

Skinner stands up.  “Gentlemen,” he says in his no-nonsense  voice, “I think this may take a while.”

The other three nod solemnly.  None of them make a move.

“What I’m saying is, we should make ourselves scarce,” he says  with a little more emphasis.  “I don’t think Mulder is going  anywhere any time soon.”  He walks to the front door and opens  it, ushering the others out before going out himself and quietly  shutting the door.

He stands outside the door for a moment, wiping his hand over  his face.  He’s beyond tired, but he feels that he has paid a  debt long owed by getting Mulder back.  He can wait until  tomorrow for the answers.  Tonight belongs to Scully.

end.

 

Thanks for reading! So what do you think?  I’m thinking there may be more to  this story…not sure yet.  Do let me know what you think!

August 28, 2000