Title: The Family Room Author: RocketMan >lebontrager@iname.com< Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is intended. NOTES::: This was my first post ever. Of course, no one remembers it..Enjoy. ~~~~ The Family Room ~~~~ Chapter One ~~~~ The house is dark Everyone is fast asleep And I'm climbing down the stairs To all the secrets that we keep In my dreams I go To that place in time Still looking for something That I've yet to find ~~~~ Fox Mulder thrashed on his couch and sat up suddenly, sweat running in rivers down his forehead and pooling between his shoulder blades. The dream was still vivid in his mind, Samantha yelling his name, him frozen in fear and cowardice on the floor, and the bright blinding light. And his fear in his mouth, acidic and revolting. Then she was gone, and he was being shaken angrily awake, roughly, by his father who screamed at him that he was a fool and a slacker and that he had lost his sister. Mulder shook his head and cleared away the memories and the nightmares. One still clung to him - the fear making his whole body shake and his mouth go dry. And his father. Had William Mulder really said that, or was it an outpouring of his own guilt? Mulder had never dreamed that before, never his father blaming him. It had been implied, but never actually stated. Or so he thought. Maybe his father had really believed it was his fault. But he had been in on the whole thing - right? He tried to force Mom to choose and he knew it was happening. He knew. Or had he? Had he really thought his father would try to save him and not his sister? His father loved Sam, loved her more than him, it was plain to see from the beginning. So wouldn't he have chosen for Mulder to be taken? Was that why Sam was taken instead? And he had blamed Mulder for her disappearance. Mulder was supposed to have been taken, not Sam. It was all his fault. Hadn't he been thinking that for years? Why only now did this dream manifest in his subconscious? His father had blamed him, and the things he had found out, what he thought was the truth, was turning out to be pieces of a different puzzle. Why would his father blame him, when he knew it was happening? When he knew that Sam would be taken? Mulder had thought his parents blamed him, only to find out that they really didn't, and that it had all been his own guilty feelings. But with this dream, everything was different. His father really had blamed him. Which made him wonder if he hadn't known all along. Mulder groaned. He was running around in circles, not thinking logically. His dream could simply be a dream, not a repressed memory, as he was sure Scully would say. And the truth they had found did go in contradiction to this dream, so it must not be real. Or the truth wasn't real . . . But if he couldn't even trust his memory, then what could he trust? How did he know that the visions of his sister being taken up in a beam of light were not odd nightmares, too? Oh, gods . . . could the whole thing be one grand delusion they were pulling on him? ~~~~ Dana Scully's Apartment 12:07 a.m. ~~~~ Scully grunted as the ringing of her phone woke her from an elusive dream. She focused as her hand grabbed for it and managed a halfway decent mumbling of her name before coming to full consciousness. "Scully? Are you awake?" She sighed; it was Mulder. "No, I'm still asleep, Mulder. Call back in another six hours."she said. "Oh . . ." Scully remained silent, wondering just what he would do. "Did you mean that?" came his reply. "Mulder, what is it?" she sighed. "I . . . never mind. I shouldn't have called. Go back to sleep, Scully." She was angry at him for waking her in the middle of the night for nothing. "Goodnight, Mulder." He hung up. She rolled over in bed, a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. His call hadn't been nothing. He never called for nothing. It was always very important. She felt sick at putting him off and reached for the phone again, wondering what he was doing, why he was awake. Maybe another nightmare? He didn't call her except when he thought they had revealed another truth to him. And he always told her the truth; she trusted him to do that. "Mulder." came the answer as the phone was picked up. "Mulder, it's me. What's wrong?" She heard him shudder on the line. "Scully, I need to go back to my parents' house, to see what else I can remember." She felt confusion hit. "Why now?" "I had a dream, and I don't remember it happening, but it conflicts with some things and enlightens others, and I have to try and figure out what the truth is, Scully." She felt her breath rip away from her lungs. He didn't know what the truth was. But Fox Mulder always knew what the truth was; she could count on his daily miracles of truth. She needed that truth to survive. He had said it himself, the truth would save them both. And now he was saying he couldn't figure out the truth. "Scully?" came his voice. "I'm here." she said, in a cracked whisper. She cleared her throat. "Mulder, do you want to tell me what happened in your dream?" ". . . No . . . I just need to go, okay? Can you cover for me?" "Yeah." "No problem, Mulder. Just don't turn your cell phone off, okay? Let me be able to contact you." It was a hard concession for him, but he agreed. "Scully? Thanks, I need to do this. Not only for me, but for you too." "What do you mean?" she asked. "If I don't know which direction north is, and I have the map, how can you possibly find your way out of the forest?" he whispered, and then she was left in silence. ~~~~ What can't you talk about? I hear you scream and shout Through the celing and the floor I want to work it out See through the shadows of doubt And what's behind the door In the family room ~~~~ Mulder arrived late at his mother's and called through the screen door to her. Her weary face smiled upon seeing him and she opened the door for him, kissing his cheek. Mulder was a bit surprised, but the doctor had said the stroke would alter her personality some. He just hoped she would remember the things he needed her to remember. "Hey, Mom, are you getting enough sleep?" She looked sharply at him and her face semed to crumple. "I guess that would be the first thing you would notice, right Fox? Since you get so little of it, you know all the telltale signs." He wasn't going to let her guilt him out of answering the question. "That's right. Now, why haven't you been sleeping?" he said, laying his bags on the floor by the door. He'd fgure out where to sleep later. "Oh, Fox, it's not of any concern." Suddenly, he knew exactly how Scully felt when he brushed her off. Must run in the family. "Alright, I'm going to dump my stuff in the guest room, okay?" he said. He didn't want to push. "Fox." He turned from the hall to face her. "Yeah?" "Why don't you just tell me why you came, son, and then you can see if you want to stay." she said softly, understanding and maternal knowledge in her eyes. "Mom-" he started, a little shocked that she could know him so well. This was the mother he'd been alienated from (no pun intended) since he was twelve and she'd decided to retreat into herself. She couldn't possibly know him. She hadn't ever been there for him, so how could she know?" "Fox." she spoke quietly and he knew that this was once again so unlike her. "I know you would never willingly come to me with your problems, and so I'm sure if I couldn't give you the information you seeked, you'd want to look for it somewhere else." She held up a hand to his threatening intertuption. "Now, Fox, I know this is true so don't deny it. I haven't been the mother to you I should have been, and it's too late to start trying now. It will only put you in more danger." Mulder felt his heart shaking with grief and loss. This was his mother and she was as good as denying him his birthright. He had always thought, in the back of his mind, that she would someday open her arms and her heart and let him in, the same day, he knew, that he gave her back Samantha. But that day would not come, she seemed to be saying, and it was too late now. The grief must have been evident on his face, because she sighed. "Oh, Fox. Don't tell me you didn't know this already. I'm an old woman who's managed to lose both her children in one sitting. One because of him and one because of me. I've accpeted that, and it's time to move on. Beat the basterds that did this and continue to do this and then curl up and wait for death." At his shocked look she laughed with scorn, the scorn and contempt he had so often heard in her voice. It brought back painful memories and he realized she was right. They could never get past what had been done to them, neither could they try to start over. The past was in their way; combining Mrs. Mulder's apathy towards ever getting Samantha back and Mulder's sense of failure in that subject, neither would be able to move forward with any kind of relationship. He loved her because she was his mother, and because he could remember when she used to dote on him, but no longer was there anything more. She loved him out of maternal duty and because he was generally a good boy, but otherwise, she had lost him long ago. "Isn't that what Agent Scully does?" came his mother's voice through his thoughts. "What?" he hissed. "Isn't she just going along with you until these guys are beaten, then going home to curl up and die?" He felt his breath become like needles. "What do you mean?" Screw it, his mother could always make him so insecure of himself. "What does she get out of this, Fox? A nice smile and thanks from you for risking her life in your dangerous game and then the rest of whatever life she has left to start her life? Don't do to her what your father did to me." she said, her face serious and contemplative. Mulder turned in anguish from her horrible words. He had gone home to seek the truth and he had found it. He had found it in the lies he had been telling himself. And he told his mother this lie now. "She wouldn't be with me if it didn't matter to her." His mother gave him a knowing smile, that seemed almost pitying. "And you think your father mattered to me after he took my baby from me? Do you think that once you've taken her life from her, you're going to matter? Or that the knowledge of a job well done will give her satisfaction?" Mulder winced and chewed raw the inside of his mouth to keep the tears from spilling over. His mother did not even know of her cancer, and yet she had managed to pin it down with one comment. "Fox, I'm warning you right now. Don't you dare do to her what your father did to me! Don't you dare!" "What if it's too late?" he whispered. "With Agent Scully, I have a feeling it's not too late." she said quietly. "She knows you're here, right? Why don't you call her and ask her to come on down. I could use a fresh face and you could definitely use her support." Mulder rubbed his eyes and stood, pulling out his cell phone. Somehow, his mother had managed to save him, and still make him feel awful at the same time. He had a feeling it was the only way she knew how to mother. "Scully." came her voice at once. "Hey, it's me." "In trouble already, Mulder?" she said, only partly joking. "No. I just wondered if . . . I wanted to know if you'd come on down here, and help me." "Mulder?" "Only if you wanted to, Scully. This comes out of vacation days and it's going to be pretty intense, I can already tell, so I'll understand if you don't want to." "Mulder." "Yeah?" "Why are you suddenly asking?" she said. "Because . . . Because I . . . You only have so long, Scully, and I don't want to waste that." He could hear her breath sharpen and she made a little noise with her mouth that made him feel like he'd gone and done the entirley wrong thing. "Mulder, I don't want you to change because of me." "No, Scully, that's not it. I just need you and I always seem to make the stupid mistake of shutting you out when I need you the most." She could hear him sigh with frustration, but she felt a little warmth flow through her for him. He needed her. She couldn't help wanting to feel needed. "Okay, Mulder. I'm coming. We'll talk later." "Thanks, Scully." He hung up. "Now, Fox, ask me what you needed to in the first place and I'll think on it tonight while we're waiting for Agent Scully." His mother could be no nonsense when she wanted to. And then frail and weak when she didn't want to face things. "Mom, I have to know what happened in this family the months before Sam's abduction and in the months afterward." Mrs. Mulder's eyes grew dim and hazy, just as they had when he'd asked her in the middle of the night if she'd had to make a choice between them. "Mom, you have to tell me this, you have to. I don't have anywhere else to turn anymore." He could see pain in her eyes. "I guess I deserve that." "What?" he asked bewildered, thinking she was talking of Samantha. "The knowledge that you'd turn to your mother last of all when you needed help." He wasn't going to let her do this to him again. He hadn't come home for the same guilt trip all over again. "Mom, don't do this. You were never there for me, even when I turned to you first. Don't try and make me out to be the bad guy again." She sat silently on the couch and would not look at him and he felt twisted inside. Even though his words had been true that didn't make them any less painful. He did love her. How could he not love his mother? "Should we wait for Agent Scully or eat dinner now?" she said, switching topics and retreating again into herself, the glazed look of ignorance once again in her eyes. He sighed. "Let's wait, Mom. She'll be starving." "And so will I." she mumbled. "Mom, you go ahead and eat, then, we'll get something later." he said. "No, no, can't do to have company eating without the host. It's just not right." "Well, I'm sure Scully won't mind. In fact, I'm sure she expects us to eat." he said, trying to mollify her. "No, it's been settled. Don't worry about me." she said and walked down the hall to her room. Mulder sighed. She had guilted him again. She had been the one to suggest waiting for Scully and then when he had agreed she'd tried to make it sound like he was being inconsiderate. He really did need Scully. She could always keep him from being hurt by what people had said. Like with Eddie Van Blundht, and the vacuum seller who had claimed to have taken Samantha. She could protect him, he knew, keep his mother's words from stinging so much. He trusted her honesty; she'd tell him how it actually was. He needed that objectivity. He needed that strength. He needed her. ~~~~ ~~~~ Chapter Two ~~~~ I look outside my window See you in the falling snow You're skating on thin ice So close to the blackness below And I look into the eyes The same eyes as mine Still dreaming of something That you've left behind ~~~~ Dana Scully left her car unlocked and ran through the rain to the big looming house. It seemed to be warning her of the things to come and she dreaded meeting Mulder's mother again, facing that same coldness she had seen before at his father's funeral. She had never known such unfeeling disinterest as she had seen in Mrs. Mulder and it frightened her. For if she was unconcerned about her own son, then she would have no qualms about taking her down too. Scully promised herself she would not break under this woman, she would be strong for him, be the rock he needed to get through it. He was searching for truth like a blind man and she had the suspicious feeling it was all for her. Because of her cancer. And she didn't want that. The door opened and allowed her in before she could be completely drenched. She turned to Mulder with concern and saw his blackness treading so close to his eyes. She hugged him impulsively, in attempt to take the sorrow away and then searched with for his mother. "She's upstairs," he said softly and took the bag from her hand and laid it next to his on the floor. Scully nodded and realized that three years ago had he finished her thoguht like that she would have been spooked. But now, it was evidence of the simpatico between them. She turned to him and eyed his frowning face. "Mulder, let's eat and then you can tell me why I'm here." she said, and watched his reaction carefully. His eyes brightened slightly and he nodded and went up to get his mother. She was in the kitchen washing her hands when Mrs. Mulder came in. "Shoo!" she said and pulled her from the room. "Can't be in my kitchen, young lady. I don['t allow company in the kitchen." Scully shot a half terrified and half mystified look to Mulder and allowed herself to be escorted to the dining room. Mrs. Mulder certainly had her own sense of pride. They sat down at the table, beautiful placemats in front of them, with the silverware and dishes all laid out. Mulder looked at his mother suspiciously when he noticed three settings. "Mom, how did you know Scully would be coming?" he asked, a bit of betrayal clouding his voice. "I guessed, Fox. I knew you'd need her." In other words, he thought, you knew you could persuade me to get her down here before I even did. And I was stupid enough to fall right into your trap. Scully felt like she walked right in the middle of a battle zone in which a hesitant truce had been called. And Mulder had called her in for reinforcement, just in case, as if he knew the war would soon be fought. Scully wasn't so sure she wanted to be in on this. But as Mrs. Mulder brought in vegetables and steaming rolls, and then a tender roast, she couldn't help but be hungry. Scully ate with abandon, letting the homecooked meal warm her after her dash through the rain. She could almost imagine she was at her mother's with her brothers sitting around the table, and Missy next to her and mom and dad talking to each other and to them. But in the Mulder silence, it was hard to keep up such an image, and soon she realized why Mulder always felt so uncomfortable with her family. He had never had those companionable meals and he was at a loss for how to behave. At least silence was comfortable to him, something familiar, where he didn't have to try to fill in the long pauses. Because in his house, those long silences were the only thing keeping anyone sane. How horrible to grow up like that, she thought again. How had Mulder turned out as well as he had? Sure, he had problems, but she was surprised he hadn't killed himself long before, simply from the silence that his whole family wore like a shield. Had he come home to break this code of silence? To find out what his mother's refusal to become part of reality had been all about? After dinner, Mulder led her to the couch, hoping to explain, while his mother washed the dishes. Scully had been about to offer her help, but one scathing look from his mother had silenced her. She now understood the value of silence in the Mulder household. It kept you from making a fool of yourself, it kept you from the painful truths that could destroy a child, it kept you from hurting yourself to the point where nothing mattered anymore. It kept them all sane. Mulder sank onto the green and brown couch, a sigh of defeat escaping his lips. She waited for him to begin, knowing he never would make the first move and understanding why now. When you're the neglected child, you don't purposefully draw attention to yourself by stating your feelings. They could be hurt so easily, and so quickly by an uncaring word. "Mulder?" she said, taking that first step, because in her family, everyone spoke their mind without fear of repercussions. "Yeah, yeah, I know you're really wondering why you're here." he said, but offered no explanation. "No, actually, I'm wondering why *you9d* want to be here." she answered. He laughed because he really didn't know, other than this was his last chance for the truth, for saving her, and he needed her to tell him this was right, that this would save her, or otherwise he could not make it another day in his mother's house. "I just need to find out the secrets in my own family, before I can do anything else. I've been going as far away from here as possible, and only now have I realized that I should've started at the beginning, where this had all happened." he sighed. "Oh, I really don't want to, Scully. I really don't." She was struck by his honesty, the total abandoning of his defenses to her. She had never told him just how afraid she was of the truth in her, in her cancer and her memory, but here he was telling her that he had been running from his own truth for longer than she had. And that seemed liberating to know. "Mulder, I'm here, alright?" she said, at a loss to really know how she could comfort him. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I still don't want to do this. I mean, she's my mother, but that's about it. You don't know just how lucky you are, Scully, to have a whole family, to actually have a mom and not a mother." His words were jumbled and she could tell this had been on his mind for a long time, so long that it came out in any way it could when he finally let it. "I realize that now, Mulder. I can't believe you turned out as good as you did, with this . . . always hanging over your head. And it wasn't even something you could do anything about. But they punished you for it anyway." Scully felt angry, that he had been forced to live like this, that he had never been allowed to grow in such a hostile enviornment. Why him? Why had this happened? It didn't have to be that way, it shouldn't be that way. Hadn't her own mother, when Missy had died, gotten closer and more loving to the rest of her children? Why had Mrs. Mulder's defense been to hide? "Scully?" he said, and she realized that he felt like a child again, at home with the terrible things that he couldn't speak of. And he remembered, but he wasn't allowed to talk of it, for fear of something, what she did not know. "It's okay, Mulder. This is your life now, and she can't make you feel bad about talking, she can't." "Oh, yes she can. She made you feel bad for offering to help, didn't she?" he replied. She felt her stomach wrench, because he was right. His mother had made her feel like she was being horribly rude for offering to help. "But . . ." "I need you to keep me focused, Scully. I can see her doing it, but I can't stop it. She managed to snag you here, just by saying a few choice words, and she managed to make me feel like crap when I took her up on the offer of waiting to eat until you arrived. I need you to keep reminding me why I'm here." She tilted her head. "How do I do that?" she asked. "Just stay right here. It'll help, believe me." "I believe you." she said softly, and saw his face jump in shock. "Be careful how you say that, Agent Scully," he teased. "I could just start expecting it." He had thrown his walls back up again, obviously saying that was enough pain and suffering for tonight. He stood and took his own bag and gave her own to her. "Let's go find a place to sleep." he said. She followed him up and wondered just how much strength one had to have to face something like this. And how much strength did he derive from her presence? What about her kept him focused? Her cancer? And she knew without a doubt that that was why he was doing it. He had some odd notion that the truth could save everything. That once the truth was brought out, everything would be okay again and he'd have Samantha and she wouldn't have cancer, and his mother would love him for him, and all that happily ever after stuff. When he led her to a room she stopped him before he could go out. "Mulder.." she sighed and looked at his swirling dark eyes, hating the pain there. "Don't do this for me, okay? The truth won't make everything suddenly be alright. It doesn't work that way. Don't put yourself through this kind of hell just for the chance of finding some kind of truth." His pained face made her want to take it back, especially the part about the truth not making everything better. "I promised," he said tightly. "I promised you that the truth would save us, and it will. And this is my last hope, Scully. My last hope." He left and she sat down the bed and felt like crying. She had seen as much in his eyes. It was his last hope, that was for sure. But she was more frightened about what he would do when his last hope crumbled under the weight of disappointment and pain. She would be there for him, she knew that, to pull him away from that teetering place on the brink, but would it be enough after this? She wanted to give him another hope, something else to fall back on when this didn't work. She had no doubt that Mrs. Mulder had no intention of telling Mulder anything new. It was too painful for her even now, with just Mulder's haunted look for her to overcome. The lady was selfish and old and had stopped caring long ago, when her daughter had been taken. But she would be damned if she'd let Mulder be hurt by the woman again. Because she had a bad feeling that this time, Mulder would be pulled away from her forever. And Mrs. Mulder obviously knew that because she had orchestrated a way to get Scully down there to deal with Mulder when the crushing blow would come. Mrs. Mulder wanted nothing to do with it anymore. All she wanted to do was to retreat back into her own little world, never letting anything in or out. Dana Scully stood up and tiptoed out of the bedroom, checking to make sure Mulder was nowhere in sight and went downstairs. She saw Mrs. Mulder in the light and stopped suddenly; it looked as if she were crying. A strange sense of justification filled her chest before she felt awful for having such bad thoughts about her when she was probably in the same kind of pain as Mulder. "Mrs. Mulder?" she asked softly, coming down the stairs to where the proud lady stood. The woman gasped and stood rigidly as she descended. "Yes?" came her halting voice, cold once more. "Are you all right?" "You mean besides my son coming home only to give me an emotional beating? Then yes, I'm fine." The I'm fine sounded so cold and hollow to her ears and she hoped that was not how she sounded to Mulder. "Mrs. Mulder, with all due respect-" "Better not, Agent Scully. Those starting off phrases, with all due respect, are preludes to pain and I'll not take that from you." "Mrs. Mulder!" she said, feeling angry and guilty at the same time. She could understand how Mulder wouldn't want to face this alone. "Mulder has been through hell his whole life, and I will not let *you* put him through it again. You destroyed your own son a long time ago, and somehow he managed to reclaim part of himself, but now, he's come to you, as his mother, to find the rest and you had better give it to him." Scully's face never lost its calm but the glint of barely contained fury ruled her eyes and Mrs. Mulder would have flinched, but she'd seen such before and nothing came of those who had control. "And why should you care, Agent Scully? This is his family and I believe I have the right to -" "You have no right to him anymore!" she hissed, much in the same as she had to the paperhearts man. "You gave that up a long time ago, Mrs. Mulder, and I will not let him be torn to pieces by someone he cares for, but who does not care back!" "And just who do you think you are?" the woman said with icy calm. "His partner, his friend, the one he trusts. He's given me parts of himself to protect and I will not let him down." She said this with her rage at the boiling point, wanting to lash out at this strong, yet feeble woman, for all the things she'd dumped on her son, then left for others to try and sort out. Fox Mulder stood at the top of the stairs watching in horror as his mother and Scully fought. Everything Scully said was driving ice picks into him, for it was all true and he hadn't even realized it before. His mother had abandoned him for all intents and purposes and now Scully had seemed to adopt him. He felt the bitter tears start down his face and he turned to go back to his room, not wanting to face her or his mother. He felt oddly comforted that Scully was his champion and oddly like a fool for not being able to stand up for himself. Mrs. Mulder saw her son retreat and said. "Why do you care so much for him, Agent Scully? He has brought you nothing but grief." Mrs. Mulder watched Mulder pause, waiting for the answer. Scully saw the glittering sense of victory in the woman's eyes and knew that whatever she said would be used against her, to make Mulder hurt somehow, to save Mrs. Mulder from further pain. "Because he's my family, now. He's the only one that understands." she whispered tightly, and turned to run back up the stairs before Mrs. Mulder could trap her any other way. She saw Mulder at the top and they both stared at each other, shocked, sorrowed, and Scully knew Mulder's mother had seen him and set her up, just for this awkwardness. She refused to be pulled into the web any tighter. "Mulder . . ." He seemed to be fighting his mother's deceit too. "It's okay, Scully. I'm glad you think of me as family." She smiled at his attempt and stepped closer, to hug him. He wrapped his arms around her, at the top of the stairs, as if in open defiance of his mother. Placing a kiss on the top of her head, he then turned and went back to his bedroom. She went into her own, next door to his and sank onto the bed, feeling emotionally exhausted, not only from her confrontation with Mrs. Mulder, but from her fight to keep her own in his childlike need. She fell asleep knowing she'd be waked by his nightmares, and almost looking forward to going in to save him from that pain. ~~~~ ~~~~ Chapter Three ~~~~ What can't you talk about? I hear you scream and shout Through the ceiling and the floor I want to work it out See through the shadows of doubt And what's behind the door In the family room ~~~~ Scully had just fallen asleep when the screaming started, first little wails, then loud anxious yells that made her physically hurt for him. She looked at the time and saw he had made it through a lot of the night without a really bad nightmare; it was three in the morning. So maybe she hadn't just fallen asleep. She crawled out of bed and shivered in the moonlight that filtered in through the window. It gave her shocks of goosebumps at his cries and the pale moonlight. She slipped into the hall and into his room, tensing at the entrance to get her bearings in the darkness and then saw his shaking body on the bed. With a startled cry she realized he was choking himself with the tangled sheets and she ran forward. Ripping the sheet from his neck, she went to his side, fear in her eyes, and checked to make sure he could still breathe. He took a gasp of air and shuddered into sleep again. She held him close, rocking him slightly and murmuring soothing things, feeling as if he were just a small little boy, in need of some love and comfort. She wondered where his mother was through all this, if she even cared that her son was killing himself with the things he could not remember. He needed to know the secrets his mother kept, if only to relieve his troubled mind and haunted dreams. Not telling him would only hurt him even more, regardless of how horrible the truth was. Mulder shuddered and she realized he was not out of the dream yet, and she wondered if she should wake him. He had come home to remember, maybe she should let him. So she held him tightly to her and smoothed the hair on his forehead as he moved in his sleep. But when he began screaming, legs thrashing and face pale, she had to do something. "Mulder! It's okay, time to wake up." she said, holding his face between her fingers. "Come on, Mulder, I know you don't like being in nightmares, so just wake up, okay?" His body shuddered again and she felt tears spill onto her fingers. He was crying. "Mulder?" she whispered, fearful herself. "Mulder, come on, wake up." He sobbed and clung to her, even in his dreams he knew her, knew she would offer him some peace. "Mulder, please. . ." she said, shaking him slightly. Suddenly he gasped and shot up, right out of her fingers and trembling so hard his head was shaking. His eyes blinked and his fingers curled around empty air, as if trying to capture the last of his fleeting dream. "Mulder?" He turned and gasped in his breath and then suddenly, he fell into her and hugged her to him tightly. He murmured something and let out one last sob before pulling away. She looked at him from behind her loose hair, her eyes grey in the darkness and her body ghost like in its paleness. He couldn't get rid of the last image in his mind, that of her on the floor, blood pooling around her, dead in his arms. It seemed to be a preminotion, and that scared him. Had They followed him here, what did They think he could get out of his mother? "Mulder?" she asked, reaching out with one small hand to him, as if her tenuous grasp could pull him away from the brink. He should have said he was alright, he should have said everything was okay again, but the truth was, he was afraid of letting her out of his sight. And the fear that the nightmare would come back and he'd be alone this time, was just as convincing. "Scully . . . would you stay here until I fall back asleep?" he asked. She remembered her little brother, Charles, asking her the same thing once, after their father had gone away for a really long trip. She felt a lump in her throat and she nodded wordlessly and pushed him back down on the bed. He watched her with curiousity and need, as she pulled the blankets back over him and tucked him in. She realized that he hadn't had a mother since he was twelve and memories like this were few and far between. Surely, he'd had nightmares before Sam's diappearance, where his mother would come in and comfort him? But she also realized that the nightmares he had needed comforting on were the ones after Sam was taken. And he hadn't gotten that. "Are you going to sing me to sleep too, Scully?" he asked, a slight smile on his face. "You wouldn't want me to, Mulder, believe me." she said, raising her eyebrow. "Oh, I bet I would." "No, Mulder, I'm not singing to you." He sighed and nodded and the mother in her wanted to sing to him, but the partner in her said that was ridiculous. "Go to sleep, Mulder." she said and rested her hand on his chest briefly. She moved to take it away, but he grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry I got you into this, Scully. This isn't even about you." She shook her head. "This is the truth, Mulder, and that's about me." ~~~~ ~~~~ Chapter Four ~~~~ I feel the ties between us Have grown up like a vine Like the patterns on the wall we are intertwined But as I cut the roses Tomorrow they will bloom And finally clear the air In the family room ~~~~ Mulder woke sharply, consciousness coming into him suddenly, heat pouring into the frozen places of his mind as the dream disappeared. He took a shaky breath and saw the sun across his bed, pouring in from the window, and the shadows running to escape. He turned and saw Scully, asleep in a chair she had pulled up and leaning against the side of his bed. He hadn't asked her to stay the night, but she had. She had known he needed it and given of herself accordingly, disregarding her own needs. He admired her once again for her sleflessness. He got out of bed and gathered her in his arms, trying not to wake her and put her in his bed, where she could sleep better. He pulled the covers over her and went to the bathroom, shutting his door carefully. When he came back in she was curled up, looking very small against the big bed. He came to the side of the bed and squatted down next to it, eyeing her. Her eyelashes were thick and light brown, touching her cheek with gentleness. Her lips were parted and the breath came out of them in slow whipsers, ruffling the sheets. He reached out his hand and it hovered near her hair, shining in the sun coming in through the window, and he wanted to touch it. It seemed that if he could simply feel her peace he could acquire it. He let his hand come to rest on the top of her head. He watched as she stirred and murmured in her dreams. Her face seemed to relax at his touch and he marveled that he could do that. His eyes slid down her body and he could barley disguise the wanting in his look. When his eyes returned to her face he saw her eyes were opened and she was watching him, silently. He blinked in surprise and forgot all about his hand on her head. "Mulder?" she asked, as if she had not seen his gaze, as if she hadn't noticed the want. He snatched his hand from her and covered his guilt with false humor. "Don't tell me you don't remember last night!" he said, a mock horrorfied expression on his face. She smiled and sat up. "And what if I did?" "Oh, no, don't start this with me." "Start what?" "Hypotheticals. I'm no good at them." "So let's not make it hypothetical." He blinked three times, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes. "What?" "Mulder,"she sighed. "Come here." He climbed into the bed and sat next to her, just a little frightened. She took his fingers in her hand and he laced them through his own on instinct. She smiled and leaned forward to him, and he had the funny idea she was going to kiss him. But she hugged him instead and said, "You're going to need alot of strength today, Mulder. And I'm here for that, I know. But I have one thing to say. Whatever you learn, it's not going to change us, okay? I'll still be here for you, and everything that you think about for the future, *whatever* it is, that can still happen. No matter what your mother says." He crushed her to him and thought about what she had said. The things of the future . . . was she talking about them in the future, together? Had she had the same dreams he had last night? Of them together and people saying things that made them seperate? Of the pain of losing the one person that meant the most to you in the world because of the truth? Had she dreamed that too? "Thank you, Scully. I . . . needed that assurance." "You've got it Mulder. Now let's go face the truth." She stood; he smiled and helped her off the bed. "Scully, whatever does happen, I want you to know that -" "Don't say it, Mulder. This is your truth. I'll be fine." she said. He took her hand in his and kissed the back of it, a small way of thanking her for all she had given him. Maybe she had given him a hope to fall back on, she thought, and that was all he needed to make it through this time. ~~~~ end adios RM