Disclaimer: Nope, these characters aren't mine. Category: SRA/MSR Rating: PG Spoilers: The Truth Archive: Gossamer. Spookys. Further X. Others ask me. Summary: Mulder must help Scully come to terms with losing William. Thanks to: Sara Lynn, my beta Goddess. "Absence of Progress" by Lisa haven599@msn.com I can't stand to see Scully like this. Distant. Silent. Broken. Her mood changed from happy and upbeat to sad and despondent now that we have returned from New Mexico. Perhaps too much has happened since my absence and we can't get back to the way we were after William was born. William. I believe it's too much suffering for her to bear. There are too many bad memories and shattered hopes here in D.C. Maybe nothing can repair them. Perhaps they are stronger than we are. We're growing further apart instead of closer together. ++++ One month ago Scully told me she wanted me to move in with her as soon as possible. This was her idea and hers alone. It was all she could talk about on the trip home from New Mexico. I was able to get out of my lease a bit early, but had to pay much more than I bargained for. Most of my furniture I decided to put into a storage facility nearby. However, I was able to get rid of a couple of pieces to a young woman who was moving in on the first floor of my now ex-apartment building. Hell, I even helped her move them in. She was all excited about her new career at the FBI. I didn't say anything. What could I have said that she would believe? I didn't want to squelch her enthusiasm with my jaded viewpoints. I was able to sort through non-essential items and either give them away or throw them in the trash. I knew I kept a lot of things over the years, but Jesus, I had no idea all of the shit one person could accumulate. Of course, cleaning isn't high on my priority list, either. Bringing all my things back and forth to Scully's apartment -our apartment-now felt a bit strange at first, but with each trip I made it began to feel right. It will be a new beginning for both of us and we'll try and move forward with our new lives. However, we haven't figured out what they will be yet. I was so preoccupied with the move I didn't realize Scully's mood had completely changed. One morning I found her tearing down William's room. She asked if I could go to a consignment store and see if I could how much money I could get for the furniture and baby clothes. I tried to get her to put off dismantling the room, and even offered to do it myself, but she refused and insisted she had to be the one to do it, saying it was long overdue. Scully had rid the whole apartment of any and all baby items. There was no trace that a child even lived here only a few short months ago. I couldn't find any pictures, leftover formula, or even a lost toy stuck between the couch cushions. She obliterated all the evidence of our child. She had stopped doing much of anything. I wanted to help with setting up the little furniture I had brought it, but she wouldn't let me, saying it kept her busy. She even spirited off my clothing and put them either in her closet or the dresser I had brought with me. The apartment was a bit crowded, but she didn't seem to care. I didn't. I was just glad to be back with her. It would be for good this time. I needed to tell her that. I want to make sure she doesn't think anything will separate us again. I'm still not used to sleeping in the same bed with her. I suppose that will take some time. We might as well be sleeping in separate beds with all the affection she shows me. It's as if there is a fence right down the middle of the bed. Occasionally, I can kiss her on the cheek or forehead before I turn off the light, but she's usually gone to bed before I do. This is a much different Scully than the one I was with in New Mexico. We did fall asleep shortly after I crawled into bed with her, but sometime in the middle of the night she woke up and we made love. It was the first time since-well--I don't remember how long, but it was much more passionate than even the first time. I want that woman back with me again. There was no joy in being around her anymore. She hardly talked to me or only when I asked her a question. We were just coexisting together. She barely ate anything, so I started doing the cooking. Nothing elaborate, but I knew she had to be losing weight. I couldn't prove it, since she didn't allow me close enough to touch her. I started spending most of my time away from the apartment. She wouldn't talk to me about what was wrong, but I knew it had to be about giving William up. I began to do some research of my own. I went to bookstores and skimmed through books about birth mothers who gave up a child. Most of the information talked about how a woman goes through phases of grief for the lost child. She was denying her emotions and avoiding anything that reminded her of William sharing her life for so brief a time. I knew she was depressed. I didn't need a book to tell me that. She was probably hoping the anger would go away if she ignored it and didn't talk about it. That was so Scully. Perhaps she felt guilty for giving him away to total strangers. I wished she would talk with someone about this, but she hasn't had great experiences with therapists in the past. Anyway, how could she begin to explain to a stranger why William was given up for adoption? I hesitated to buy her a book and demand she read it because I knew what the answer would be. However, I felt sometime in the future she would be receptive to the idea, so I purchased it and began to read it in secret. I started to understand more and had a few ideas on how to help her. But getting her to see it that way would be the challenge. I attempted several conversations about William, but they all ended poorly, usually with her walking away and totally ignoring me or shutting the door to her bedroom leaving me all alone. The only thing left to do was to give her an ultimatum. I did this after dinner one night. "I want to talk about William," I said to her as we were clearing off the dishes after another silent meal. "Well, I don't." she replied, sliding silverware in the dishwater. "He's gone, Mulder. We don't have him anymore. There's no use dwelling on it any further." "No, Scully. You're wrong. We'll always have a son. Just because he's not with us doesn't mean we'll stop thinking about him." I moved closer to her, touching her arm lightly. She didn't pull away. "Listen, Scully. You don't have to be strong for me. I understand-" She pulled her arm away as if she had been burned. "No, you don't, you weren't here. You weren't the one bonding with him, nurturing him." "We both agreed it was for the best that I go," I reminded her. "Mulder, I'm tired," she said. "Please . . ." She wasn't getting away that easily. I grabbed her arm and made her face me. "No, I'm tired of you pulling this crap with me, Scully. I'm tired of this whole living situation. Why did you want me to move in? We hardly talk to each other and you spend most of your time reading medical journals or holed up in your bedroom doing God knows what. This wasn't what I expected when I said yes. Whatever happened to the woman in New Mexico? I can't stand to see you this way." I let go of her arm, letting it slide through my fingers until it fell to her side. "I love you too much to watch you destroy yourself this way." Tears were running down her cheeks now. I didn't want to hurt her, but this had to be said or no progress was going to be made. "If things don't change, I'm going to have to move out. We're going to have to re-evaluate our relationship. I can't live like this." She said nothing. I grabbed my coat and left the apartment, but I still heard her tears as I walked out. **** That's where were at now. I have been driving around for hours trying to decide what the next step is, but the only thing I come back to is Scully. The ball is in her court now. She has all the power now. I believe she always has. I have my ideas as to what I wanted to happen. I just hope they are the same as hers. I crept back to the apartment only to find it dark and quiet, as if it were at a standstill, similar to our lives. Scully was sprawled across the bed sideways with a book opened next to her head. I closed it, immediately recognizing it as the book I bought about birth mothers giving up their children. She obviously went through my side of the dresser and came across it. I'm glad she made an attempt to look it over. I decided to set up camp on the couch tonight, anxiously awaiting what she will have to say to me in the morning. I heard my name being whispered and someone nudging at me. It seemed so far away. When I finally figured out it was Scully's voice, I opened my eyes. "Scully? What's wrong?" She was sitting on the edge of the sofa next to me. "Don't leave me," she said softly in the darkness. I pulled her against me. "I'll go see a counselor. I'll read that book. Anything you say," she told me. "Anything." She continued to cry harder and I shifted her onto my lap in an attempt to comfort her. It was odd to hear her plead with me not to leave her. Shouldn't it have been the other way around? I seem to remember one occasion where I did just that. Or was it two? I know I felt that way for the past few years-ever since her cancer diagnosis-even if I didn't voice those concerns aloud. "I don't want you to do those things for me," I told her. "I want you to do them for you. Only you." "Mulder, I don't know if it's ever going to get better," she said, her tears subsiding a bit. "I believe there are some wounds that just don't heal." "I know that more than anyone, but you still have to try," I said. "I finally did that with Samantha." I was probably the last person to lecture someone about closure, but the words just came out faster than my brain had time to work. "It's just so much harder than Emily. I know he didn't die, but I still lost him," she said. "I lost another child." She put her head against my shoulder. This started a fresh round of tears and I knew nothing more was going to be accomplished tonight. "Scully, can we talk about this more in the morning?" She lifted her head from my shoulder and nodded. "Promise?" "Yes. I promise," she murmured. "You need to go back to bed." "I'm not tired," she replied. "I can't sleep. I keep thinking about him. If he's okay." I stood up from the couch, taking her with me. She didn't protest, just wrapped her arms around my neck as I headed towards the bedroom and placed her on top of the comforter. She asked me to stay with her. It was the first time we slept in each other's arms in a very long time. **** When I awoke, she wasn't in bed. I found her having coffee at the breakfast table. I quickly poured myself a cup and sat down across from her. "What are we going to do now, Mulder?" she asked me. "We're going to get on with our lives as best as we can." "No," she said. "I mean work. I really don't want to go back to the FBI." "We could go work at Waffle House." She laughed and some coffee dribbled down from her chin. "No, I mean, really." She swiped it off with two fingers. "How about moving? Getting out of the D.C. area?" I proposed to her. "Making a new start?" "I think that would be good for me. For us," she replied. "I think I could get out of my lease. It's coming due soon." "Okay, that sounds good," I told her. "Now what about William's absence?" I moved over to the chair next to her. "How're we going to cope with his loss?" She looked as if she was going to begin to cry, but steadied her voice. "Well, I was thinking about that and I guess I could go to a support group or counselor and tell them I was a single mother and had to give up her child. I'd only have to lie a little bit. I know I couldn't tell the real truth. I . . ." I broke off her thoughts. "No, Scully. I don't want you to lie. What about a letter?" "A letter?" "We could each write a letter to William for him to open when he turns eighteen. At that age he has the right to know about us. We could contact the adoption agency and see if that would be possible," I told her. "It was one of the suggestions in the book." "But what could we tell him?" she asked. "We couldn't tell him our whole story." I liked that she used the word 'our.' "No, but we could let him know how much he was wanted and if he had any questions, he could contact us," I replied. "We need to convey to him that he was loved very much and giving him up was for his own best interest. The circumstances were out of our control." I saw the tears run down her face now. Dammit, I didn't want to make her cry anymore. She nodded her head and wiped the tears away quickly. "Yes. we've got to do that," she said. "I need to." The last part was said a bit softer. I took her hands in mine. "You said the word our." She smiled the first smile I've seen in weeks. "Yes, you and me." **** END (1/1)