Title: If
Author: Ewa
Feedback, who needs it? I do for one! ewa@whatewa.com
Rating: PG 17
Category: V
Spoiler: Post REQUIEM (extremely post)
Disclaimer: any characters you recognize belong to Mr. Carter and Co; others belong to me but I share. I will return them in pristine condition. (Well almost!)
Archives: Let me know where it's gone please!

ewa@whatewa.com

Keywords: S/A M/A R

Summary: Scully's POV


Washington DC
12th October 2025

My Mom, God rest her soul, had a saying.

"If wishes were horses, beggars might ride". "If only _-"

"If I'd have thought_-"

"If I'd waited_-"

"If he'd listened_-"

"If the child had lived_-"

"If the baby_-"

"If I'd chosen_-"

"If _-"

I could go on forever, but it would not change what happened.

We would have been celebrating our Silver Wedding anniversary in another few months time, had he lived. Twenty-five years, another lifetime, yet the pain and anguish is still so fresh.

The kids had been planning a big 'do' for us, but in the event, it was never to be.

I stand, on a fall afternoon, looking out of the kitchen window across the garden.

We'd bought this house soon after I found out I was pregnant. He wanted somewhere that children could run about, have a tree house. This place, although rather large at the time, seemed ideal. Outside the window, the sun is softly shining, turning the autumnal leaves to flaming red and glistening gold. The breeze chases them around the lawn, and they in turn move swiftly away, leaping, tumbling, turning trying to evade capture.

This has always been my favorite time of year; the artist in me has always been attracted to the color schemes that go with this season. I spend a moment remembering how, when the children were little, we used to go rambling in the woods close by the house. We used to love it, especially in autumn. The heady rich fragrance, as we walked through the drifts of fallen leaves, kicking up flurries as we gamboled through them.

The swish and the crackle and crunch, the sound of excited children laughing as they found yet another horse chestnut, all round, shiny and brown. He and I would hunt for wild mushrooms, while the children ran about as demented; hair flying, cheeks red. Every now and then, someone would set Enya back on to her feet when she'd tumbled over, in her efforts to keep up with her brothers and sisters. At two, her little legs would be working nineteen to the dozen, she was determined to keep up with her siblings. She was such a feisty little thing.

Back then all six of them were still at home. Danny was fifteen. He wouldn't admit that he was having fun. He said he only came along to help the little ones. You should have seen him though. He was worse than John who was only six at the time. They would both have races, rolling down the hill through the leaves. I could see by Danny's face how much of a sacrifice it was to him! After Danny came Katherine, she was a beauty with rich auburn hair and dark green eyes. Thank God none of them had dark hair or hazel eyes. She was thirteen and a half; she would never let you forget that 'half'.

Next came Michel, he was the quite, serious studious type, not given to frivolity. At twelve he could be a royal pain in the butt. He knew everything, had an opinion on everything, and was never wrong. Huh, so you've had one like that as well have you? Need I say any more?

There was a longer gap between Michel and Meghan, she was nine, and prone to mothering (or do I mean smothering) everything in sight. It used to drive Danny mad, when Meggie used to try to do it to him! She was fair with soft, gray eyes.

John came along three and a bit years later. He was the fairest of them all, with almost white hair when he was born, and eyes the color of cornflowers. He was a natural born eccentric, a clown and a natural actor with the cheek of the devil. We were amazed at how musical the child was, he hadn't got that from me.

Last of all came my baby, little Enya. I was well into my forty-ninth year when I gave birth to her. I was five months pregnant before it dawned on us that I was not just going through the Change. I suppose she'll always be a bit special to us all being the baby of the family. She nearly died at birth, as did I. It was touch and go with both of us for a few minutes. I'm glad her Daddy wasn't there when it happened; I don't think he would have coped. He was at home looking after the rest of the brood. As it was, he never found out the full facts of it all.

Enya has been the hardest to rear, especially in the first five or so years. She was a child who did not believe in sleeping in her own bed on her own. We eventually got tired of sharing our bed with her. This did not phase her. She simply snuck into anyone else's bed, until they realized she was there and threw her out.

That was then, and eight years have passed since. Still, six children, not bad for a woman who was considered barren huh?

Danny at 23 is studying Geology in England, he seems to be doing well and has a girlfriend over there.

Katherine is studying dentistry, She's the only one so far with any medical aspirations.

Michel has also left home now and is a computer wiz kid. You name it he can do it; am I sounding a bit proud here? Well I am!

Meggie, at 17 plans to be a teacher, she'll be really good at it, especially with first and second graders.

My John, at fifteen and a half is over six foot tall, he looms over me, and not that it was ever difficult to do. He is still my clown, brightening up my days when I'm feeling down.

Enya at eleven is becoming a young lady, her blond hair has darkened to the color of rich honey, but her eyes are still the same shade of stormy sea, as they were on the day she was born. She is the singer of the family; that's a talent that she certainly hasn't inherited from me! Mulder can testify to that.

No Dana, No! Don't go down that path.

Everyone spoils her silly, but she's not spoilt. She has the whole world in front of her, to become whatever she wishes.

As the sun drops lower in the sky, I can see my refection in the window, the vibrant red of my hair, strands of which he'd push behind my ear, is still as vibrant as ever, although that is owed a lot more to a bottle than it is to mother nature. Ah, vanity.

With Enya still being so young, I don't want her friends to think she's got a geriatric mother.

The eyes are no longer so blue. Covered permanently with the eyeglasses I now have to wear. The fresh face is lined, the body gradually migrating southwards.

I do my best to keep fit, but age presses on regardless.

I was sixty-one last birthday, a senior citizen now. The kids look at me and see old. I feel no older than I was, thirty years ago.

Things have not been easy for me since my husband was knocked down and killed last year by a drunken driver. It was so sudden. I think it would have been a lot easier to bear, had he been ill before his death. At least we'd have had a chance to prepare, to say the things that in the end had been left unsaid.

I still carry such a burden of guilt for all the wasted years. I don't know whether he realized that I really loved him. I didn't know myself until about five years ago. All those years.

I had been so single minded, so blind. Accepting the love and support he offered me, never giving him the full measure of what he truly deserved. He'd always been so kind, so understanding, and so supportive. A real friend, we were a good team together he and I, but it took me so many years to admit it. So much of myself was tightly shuttered, locked away. It had to be, for my own sanity.

Even now I find it very difficult to communicate myself to my family. There is so much they don't know about me. So much that I can never share. Whether it's because I fear ridicule or censure, I don't know. They are too close to me and I feel too vulnerable.

Even my beautiful children. I don't think I loved them as much as I should have when they were younger. I never deprived them of anything; I was just not fully theirs. I've wasted so many years on what might have been; on what never could be.


Washington DC
2000

The day Mulder came back from chasing crop circles in England will be with me till my dying moment. It was such a momentous time for me, for us. In his apartment that evening, we had come to realize how, what ever we did in our lives, our paths seemed to be guided. We talked as we'd never done before. We were so close, so happy. The whole world opened up before us. I realized then, if I hadn't known before, just how much this man meant to me. On that day my future seemed completely mapped out before me. We had it all! We talked, cuddled up on his couch, late into the night. At some point I must have zoned out. I remember waking up at dawn. He'd covered me over with his Navajo blanket, and left me to rest. I crept into his bedroom before I left, to get ready for work. He looked so innocent sleeping there. I was so tempted to creep into that warm bed with him, to hold him, make love with him. My Catholic upbringing won the day, I left his Apartment, walked out on the window of opportunity. I knew later that I had taken the wrong path that day.

I found out I was pregnant the day after Mulder was taken away. No we hadn't ever slept together. But I was naive enough in those days to believe that maybe by a miracle it was his.

No, I was not that naive!

But so many strange unexplained things had happened to us, Skinner and I searched for him for months with no avail. I was about 3 months along when I miscarried, in the washroom adjoining the basement office that I'd almost called home.

Alone and frightened, and in pain I held the tiny embryo in my had and realized that my dreams had been just that. Dreams, illusions. Looking down at this creature that my body had expelled, I knew that this was no child of Mulder's, no child of any human father. Something, someone had done this to me. I remembered the few days I'd spent in CSM's company. I *did not* betray Mulder with this scum!

As I flushed this thing down the toilet, I flushed part of me as well, a part that would never be restored again. I felt my heart growing numb, cold.

I'd phoned Skinner that evening, I did something I'd never done to the man before. I lied, told him that I'd been mistaken over the pregnancy, there must have been some mistake at the hospital. Everyone knew I was barren for goodness sake! He seemed to buy my story, I heard the relief in his voice. No more was ever said about it.

It was a mere fortnight later that Mulder reappeared. He seemed fit and well, but different. Maybe it was I that was different, it's all a moot point now.

Well, we tried to get on with our lives. I needed his support, his love, but it didn't seem to be there any more. One day I woke up and realized that I couldn't go on for the rest of my days like this. I needed someone. I needed to build a life for myself. Mulder didn't want to commit to that; he'd made that painfully obvious. I'd had enough of chasing the unexplained, enough of the heartache, the loneliness, the injuries. Before, I felt having Mulder's regard compensated me for everything. I no longer seemed to had that.

I met Brian McNally in the Library a few weeks later. We got talking. He was a professor, a lecturer in English literature. He was the same age as Mulder, but that was where the similarity ended. He was fair-haired, gray eyed. Not so much fun as Mulder could be when he put himself out, but he was reliable, considerate. We seemed to hit it off, he was taken with me but never pushed. We just drifted for a while. I was very fond of him; very flattered with the attention. It was lovely to be the center of someone's world.

When he proposed, I remember thinking Mulder doesn't want me, here is a good man who does.

A judge married us some four months after we met. Brian, although of Irish decent, was not Catholic, and I felt it would be a farce to make my vows in church. As you can imagine this went down like a lead balloon with Mom, although Bill was ecstatic. I don't think Mom ever forgave me you know. She loved Fox,as she always called him, like a son. She could never understand why I'd done this. I suspect that she still saw him on and off after the wedding, but she never said and I never asked. in reality, I'd had no choice, it was either this wedding, or losing my sanity completely. What surprised me was Mulder turning up at the wedding. He finally broke my heart completely by that action. To see him there, to know that it was him that I really wanted, that I could never, ever have.

Well, I turned up to work the following Monday __no honeymoon, as it was term-time. It felt strange to be Dana McNally now. Mulder still called me Scully. I lasted another four weeks there, before I handed in my notice. I couldn't bear to be in the same room as him.

I went back to teaching at Quantico until I got pregnant with Danny. The rest is history, as they say. I was glad that the children were all fair or auburn. No dark hair or hazel eyes. I had plenty of memories that would leave me sobbing in secret as it was. I couldn't have lived with reminders of what might have been.


Maryland
2016

The next time I saw or heard from him was on the day of Mom's funeral some fifteen years later. I didn't see him till the end of the service, when he came up to her coffin ad placed a posy of yellow roses on it. It almost broke my heart, it was so poignant. I remembered Emily's funeral. Danny was almost thirteen then, he was the one that noticed the little note attached to the flowers.

The note simply said 'To Mom with love forever, Fox.' Danny had needed to know who this man was, why he'd never met him before, when obviously he'd been important to his Gran. I simply explained that he'd been my partner once, long, long ago. I've kept that note all this time. Brian never knew, I couldn't share this with him. There was so much I could never share with him. That is why I've always felt so guilty. Did I marry him under false pretences? Yet, in my own way, I loved him too.

It was after this that I started sending Mulder a card at Christmas. I knew it was something Mom had always done, I'd found his new address amongst her things and also the Christmas and Birthday cards he'd been sending her over the years. He hadn't moved far from his old Apartment. I persuaded myself that I was just keeping up the tradition, for Mom's sake. After a year or so I'd started remembering his Birthday in October too.

He'd send the family a card for the Holiday, but he'd never remember my birthday-what was new!

My ex-boss Walter Skinner would sometimes pass me on a snippet of information about Mulder. He'd apparently quit the X-Files a few years after the wedding. He'd gone back to profiling and then into teaching. He'd have been good at that. I heard that, by the time he was 57, he'd taken early retirement, although the bureau still called him in, in a consultative capacity.

Once in a blue moon, I'd hear from the Gunmen. John Byers had eventually caught up with his Suzanne and married her. The other two were still, to all intents and purposes as loony and 'out there' as ever. They saw Mulder from time to time.

It was from Frohike, that I learned how lonely a life Mulder led. It was
this that inspired me to remember his birthdays. I also started enclosing a family newsletter with the Christmas card. I wasn't trying to rub salt in a wound, it was that I felt for his loneliness. He'd been my life for so long.

It was at about this time in my life that I discovered Writing.

The family would fall about laughing whenever they saw me at the computer writing my stories. I let them have their fun. No one in the family ever saw a word I'd written. I didn't mind posting it on the net. It amused and intrigued many readers. Little did they dream that my stories, far from being fiction, were cold hard facts. With my life experience I could write volumes; and volumes I wrote.

Ordering my thoughts and emotions was a cathartic experience for me, and very therapeutic. I smiled to myself when I thought of the thousands of dollars I'd saved myself through this 'do-it-yourself' form of therapy. I opened each box of memory just as much as I could bear, at the speed and pace I could bear.

It gave me a chance to work a lot of issues through.

Over the months, Brian and the children noticed the change in me. I had found a certain peace within myself. I could be more demonstratively loving to both him and the kids.


Washington DC
2020

I saw Mulder again at Walter's funeral. In fact it was Danny who spotted him and drew my attention to his presence. He was skulking in the back of the church, although he had as much right as me, to be there. He didn't come over or look at me. It almost killed me. All these years, I thought I'd got him out of my system but he was still there lurking in the dark recesses, still with the ability to cause me such anguish.

We'd eventually been forced to speak to one another. But it was so stilted. A few words about the turn out. One or two more about the floral tributes. A sentence or two about how good a man Skinner had been, and how he'd be missed, then our conversation was done.

I was surprised how much Mulder had aged, I don't mean in looks, more in spirit. He just looked so empty, so defeated. There were moments that I thought he would pass out .

Frohike, the old renegade, had turned up too, a little grayer, a lot more crumpled, but the same as ever. I was glad when he took Mulder under his wing.


November 2024

My next meeting with Mulder took place at Brian's funeral. I felt so angry with him then.

Had he come to gloat?

It was only at the end of the service when he came over to me, that I saw it was not the case. His eyes were as red as mine must have been. "I'm so sorry for your loss. He was a good man," was all he said to me as he gave me the yellow roses.

I felt the tears cascading down my face; he gently touched a hand to my cheek before he turned and walked out of my life, without another word.


12th October 2025

I have not sent him a card this year.

Frohike and Langly have been passing on information about him. He has not been well of late. They worry about him. He seems to be on such an enormous guilt trip. All the injuries he sustained in the line of duty over the years have lead to the development of arthritis.

I've had time to mull things over. Every now and then I take out the fading yellow roses that I pressed between paper and look at them. Every time it brings tears to my eyes.

I feel he still *does* care about me. I can't put that gentle gesture of his out of my head. I know what I want, what I've always wanted. I've made enough mistakes in my life. I want to put things right. I've done enough damage to people with my silence.

I fear that what I'm about to do may be the most monumental miscalculation of my life; I'm compelled to do it nevertheless.

God forgive me if I do more harm then good, it won't be intentional.

I pick up the phone.


13th October 2025
The Reflecting Pool
Washington DC

I have never been so scared in my life, as I am at this moment. If I had a choice, I would turn the car around and drive as fast and as far away as I could. As I exit the car, I can see him sitting hunched on the bench. My legs are shaking so much I can hardly put one foot in front of the other.

C'mon girl you can do this, you've *got* to do this.

It's too late to turn back now.

He's seen me.

I see him raise from that bench on which we'd spent so much time, over a quarter of a century ago.

As I approach, I see a remarkable transformation take place in him. He is not longer hunched and defeated. He stands tall and straight and proud.

I can hardly breathe at all, I am that frightened! I want to turn and run. The Apollo key chain he gave me a lifetime ago, is clutched in my hand as a talisman.

"Damn fool idea," I say to no one at all.

I see him open his arms."Scully," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

But I hear him, see that puppy dog look on his face.

I can no more deny him than I can cut off my right hand.

I run the rest of the way, into his waiting, open arms. We cling to each other; we cling to life.

No words are needed; no words have ever been needed. I am home. No past, no regrets, no ifs, just us, just now, for how ever long we have.


The Year One
13th October 2026

I stand in front of the mirror in my ivory wedding outfit, waiting for Michel to come to take me to Church. He is to give me away. It has taken us thirty-four years, three funerals and a wedding to get to this moment. I do not waste time on regrets, on what might have been. The phone call I made to Mulder, a year ago yesterday, was undoubtedly the most foolish and the bravest thing I have ever done.

The greatest gamble, based on feminine intuition that I've ever taken. It was the best Birthday present I could have ever given him. We will never forget his sixty-fifth birthday. in forty minutes, when I walk down the aisle, to join our lives together forever before God, I will be completing the journey I set off on so many, many years ago.

The path I had chosen that night so many years ago had been the right one, albeit a very hard and difficult one to travel.

Looking back if I had chosen the more attractive way, I'd have destroyed us and the love we bore for each other.

Today my Mulder celebrates 66 years of his existence, and also the end of Year One. We no longer look back at what might have been, what could have been. We have each other. Today, tomorrow every day that God grants us together is so very precious.

This past night and morning is the longest time I've spent away from him since our reunion. I miss him so much.

He moved in with me and the family, two weeks after that birthday. This was done with the complete blessing and approval of my Family.

When Bill had found out that I'd 'taken up with Mulder' again, as he so quaintly put it, my little baby girl had leap to my defense. Enya had told her uncle what she though of his interference in her mom's life.

If she was happy for us, what did it have to do with him.

She was truly magnificent that day!

I'd always said she was the feisty one! She reminded me of Mom, and a little of myself so long ago.

This is one bride that won't be late for her wedding!

I see Michel coming up the path now.

I am ready to go. I know Danny will get Mulder to the church on time as well.

There, our children are waiting to make sure 'we do the right thing by them'.

End


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ewa@whatewa.com

 


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