Title: Momma IV
Author: RocketMan >lbontger@wmcstations.com<
Disclaimer: Julia belongs to me, but Mulder and Scully do not, so
technically, any of their prodigy wouldn't belong to me either, huh?
Author's Notes: AHHHHHH! It's been way too long.

Momma IV

I run into Dad's bedroom and bounce on the bed as he talks on the phone.
He shoots a killer look at me and patiently listens to the caller on the
other end. I think it's a client of his, one of those crazy obsessive
compulsive people he tries to counsel every day.
I am not as patient as Dad, and I can tell I'm no where near as patient
as Momma. I have zero tolerance.
Dad sticks his tongue out at me and I giggle, jiggling the bed again.
He sticks his feet to my legs and pushes, trying to knock me off the
bed, a game we played when I was littler.
He always won then, and he's winning now.
I slide off and stick my tongue out at him back, standing up with as
much grace as I can muster and stalk out of the bedroom.
I wanted to know if he had read Momma's letter.
Of course, it's a known rule in this house that when Dad's on the phone,
no one makes noise of any kind.
So, I go back to the extra bedroom, where Momma's stuff still is and
look at myself in the full length mirror.
The sun glints off the cross around my neck and My hair seems more red
today, my eyes more blue.
Usually my hair is a dark auburn with red highlights, and my eyes are
grey green, but today things seem different.
Ever since that letter lots of things are different.
I seem to be doing better in school even.
I'm a smart kid, but school just doesn't agree with me. When I'm
interested, I get perfect scores.
But most of my classes are boring and so I never study, never try.
Lately, I seem to be doing pretty well, I'm almost even interested.
Is it because of the letter?
Or just that my mystery is explained?
I hear Dad hang up the phone and search for me, scattering newspapers
and dishes as he goes.
"In here, Dad." I call out, turning to see him in the doorway.
"Yeah." he says softly. "I found you."
I smile a bit and give him a quick hug. Dad has seemed more down lately,
since the letter, and I wonder why.
"Dad, did you read the letter?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I did."
He offers nothing more and I stare at him until he grows uncomfortable
and clears his throat.
"Well," I say, finally prompting him.
"It makes me sad, honestly."
Dad has been into this honesty of emotions thing lately, where he keeps
asking me if that's what I relly feel, or if I'm not just hiding things.
"Oh?"
"Yeah. I guess because I had kind of kept her a secret and now I have to
share her."
"With me? You kept it a secret so you wouldn't have to share?"
That seems like the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.
"Well, no. I kept most of it a secret because I know I have a horrible
guilt complex, and I didn't want to risk that for you, too."
I feel a small thread of fear slither through me.
Should I have a reason to feel guilty? Momma said I didn't.
Did Dad blame me?
"Jules, stop it. See that's why I didn't tell you. No matter what I say,
you're going to have doubts. Scully told me all the time that it wasn't
my fault, but do you think I ever believed her completely?"
I turn my face.
I hate it when Dad can see everything I'm thinking right on my face. Of
course he's trained to do that, but it's still not fair.
I want to keep my thoughts private.
"Jules?"
I glance at him and I can see this has him really upset.
"I don't have your guilt complex, Dad. Not yours at all. Remember that
time I was roller skating and you let go of me, because I told you to
and I fell? You blamed yourself and instead of me crying over the cut on
my knee I had to be brave so that you ouldn't feel so bad."
His surprised look was classic. I wish I had a camera.
I never surprise Dad, not even on his birthday.
"You did that?"
"Yeah, Dad. You looked more hurt than me!"
He grins goofily and I smile. "I'm tought, Dad. Don't worry about it."
"Well, I guess them you want to know some things, huh?"
I nod. 
"Where should I start?"
I know exactly where.
"Tell me what she looked like to you . . . when . . . when she told you
she was having me."
"What she looked like? Not what I thought?"
I shake my head. "No. What did you see?"
I am starved for images of my mother. Any image that is reality. Or it
may not be, since its through the eyes of my mother's greatest lover,
but at least it's something.
"I saw this defiant little women who looked too fragile to carry a
child, but to fiery not to be. I saw her standing there telling me that
we together had created a life and that life was worth more than
anything or anyone. I saw her standing proudly as I stared at her like
she was killing me with her words and all I could think was "God don't
let her die." I saw her in the truest sense of the word. In that moment,
I saw everything she was and everything she hoped to be. And it was
beautiful."
Dad lapses into silence and smiles.
I smile back. "That's so beautfiul Dad." I say and hug him.
He looks at the stuff of Momma's in the box, the odds and ends she
collected for some reason or another. Her entire life remaining in its
stiffness.
"If you want this stuff, Jules, go ahead and take it."
Dad turns away and I know the matter is closed.
We won't probably ever talk of her again, until one day, I'll find
something else and pull it out and get up enough courage to ask and hurt
my Daddy again.
But I have enough for now.
And it will get me through until the next time.
I finally know my Momma.
And in that, I know who I am.
Julia Scully Mulder.
A Scully woman.
And a Mulder's child.
I finger her cross and pick up the box.
New treasures await me.


end of series.
adios
RocketMan