Title: How She Told Me (sequel to "How I Told Him")
Insert standard "Chris Carter owns Mulder, Scully, and Skinnner" disclaimer
I could have sworn she said she was pregnant. I’m not exactly sure. I fell asleep. It’s not my fault. My body is tired. It’s been through a terrible ordeal. My skin had been sliced and punctured, my tissue lasered out of me. Scully told me that I was found in the woods in Montana. They though I was dead. I sure fooled them!
So anyway, I woke up in the hospital and Scully was there waiting for me. It tool me a second to get my bearings but I could see that she was crying. I joked around with her, put a smile on her face. She ended up falling asleep on my chest; I couldn’t get her off or call for a nurse so I gave up and fell asleep too.
I’m drifting in and out of sleep but notice that Scully’s gone. Did she say what I think she said? Or am I delusional?…Nah. People have said that I’m paranoid but never delusional, not under normal circumstances anyway.
I’m fully awake now; my thoughts have made sure of that. Where’s Scully? And my buddies the Gunmen? I’ve missed those guys. My doctor just came in to take my blood. Looking at that needle is frightening.
“I can sense your apprehension, Mr. Mulder. I’ll just come back when you are sleeping.”
“Thank you, Doc.” I’ve never sweated more in my life. Ok. That’s a lie.
I feel a lot better. I can’t walk yet. My muscles are out of shape. I have to pee while I’m in bed; that’s kinda fun. I can eat on my own though. Eat. Man I’m hungry,
Looking at the clock on the wall, it’s almost noon. Lunchtime! I can hear my stomach growling. So does Scully, who snickers as she walks through the door. I’m staring at stomach. I did hear her right. She’s pregnant! How in the world did that happen? She’s supposed to be barren! Oh, my head hurts.
Scully noticed my stare.
“What’s the matter, Mulder? You look a little uneasy.”
“Uh, nothing. I’m okay. Just hungry,” I half lie. Time for a change of subject.
“Do I look as bad as I think I do?” I don’t really care. I just want to avoid talking about a certain something for right now.
“Depends on how bad you think you look.”
“Sheesh, I must look horrible.” A nurse walks in with my lunch tray. A smile a big grin. Most people complain about hospital food not being very appetizing. This hospital must be the exception. Jell-O, chicken soup, rice, and orange juice. Goodie! Ok, so it’s not a big deal, buy hey, I haven’t eaten in six months! As I eat, I notice Scully looking at my food.
“Um, thowy,” I say with my mouth full, chicken soup dripping from my lips, “id oo an thum?”
“No!” she laughs. “I eat more than that anyway!” I smile although I feel uneasy, uncomfortable. I just don’t understand how Scully could’ve gotten pregnant. Between flashbacks of my torture and Scully and her pregnancy, my brain is fried with thought. I mean, I always thought I’d be a father someday, even a father to Scully’s kids. Well, I thought I’d be a father until the invitro failed. She was hurt. So was I. I wanted to give her something that would make up for everything that had happened to her since she met me, the kidnappings, the attempts to end her life. No matter what she says, it was all my fault. It seems I have made up for that. But have I really?
Why do I feel this way? Not really happy, not really sad. Confused. Frustrated. I’m supposed to be dead but I’m not. I’m alive.
I finish my lunch and lie back on my pillow and shut my eyes to avoid looking at Scully. My mind takes me back to when we said that we weren’t going to start a relationship. I really wanted to, but something stopped me. It was as if fate was telling me that it wasn’t the right time.
What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I be happy for her? For us? This is what we wanted. Who’s that coming in the door? It’s Dr. Lee. Bullocks.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Mulder. I need that sample now.”
“All right, Doc.” I pick up my arms and legs and drop them on the bed. “Take me.” OK, maybe I picked the wrong person to say that to. I’m nervous. It’s too late to take it back now. The doc just chuckles. I let him take my blood, as much as it’s making me squirm.
“If all looks well, you can go home tomorrow afternoon.” Good. Finally. Three days in this place is enough. I must be doing pretty well to be let out in less than a week.
I’m bored. I want to go shoot hoops or pool or go swimming or…something. I don’t know how to sit still for very long. That’s why I get in so much trouble with the X-Files. Ah, work. Sounds like fun. Too bad I don’t have the strength to.
The Doc is gone. There’s an eerie silence between Scully and me. I stifle a yawn. I think Scully knows that I’m avoiding talking about the baby. She may not understand, but she will once I explain it to her. At least I hope she can ‘cause I’m not sure that I do.
“Hey, Scully, you seen the remote?”
“Uh…” she looks around, “I did, but I don’t know where.”
“Never mind. I found it.” It’s on the floor. I lean over the sides to pick it up and my hands touch the floor. The coolness of it reminds me of my torture chair. I must’ve been down here a while ‘cause Scully just called my name.
“I’m still here.” I look at her from under the bed. There’s something between her feet. A brown paper bag. She must’ve been hiding it when she came in. “What’s in the bag?” I ask, sitting myself up.
“A surprise. I was going to give it to you later, but since you already saw it…” She picks the bag up with her feet and hurls it at me. Flexible woman. Ahem. I open the bag and smile a big one.
“Thanks, Scully! I missed you guys!” I take out the pack of sunflower seeds and start cracking the shells as I watch TV.
“Tuesday.” I flip through the channels. Star Trek is on. Takes me back to my childhood.
Darn. I did it again. I fell asleep. It was the Pon Farr episode, too.
Where’s Scully? Oh, it’s 10pm. She must’ve gone home. Visiting hours are over,. Yeah she did. She left a note next to the bed. She’ll be back in the morning,. Good. I need to think. But I don’t want to. It’s like all this stuff is being thrown at me at once, and it is. Coming back to life, Scully being pregnant, me being a father. I thought that I would be dead. I thought I would see the light at the end of the tunnel like everybody else. I thought I would see my parents and Samantha. Maybe even Diana. But I saw nothing. Void space. Because I wasn’t dead.
I won’t lie. I wanted to die. The pain was unbearable. All I could do was cry out to my captors. They didn’t seem to care so I waited and I waited. I thought I was in heaven when I first saw light but I could hear Scully calling my name.
Wait, where was I? Oh, yeah. Scully being pregnant and me being a father. Oh, boy. Uncharted territory. This is frightening for me. Especially since Scully is supposed to be barren. What did they do to her? Maybe all o fit, the tests, the abductions, the procedures, maybe they were all lies. Maybe she wasn't really barren. Maybe the doctors she went to lied to her or maybe all of her eggs weren’t taken from her.
Big headache. Haven’t had to think this much in a long time.
I gotta pee…badly. It’s a good thing I woke up. I think I will try to go to the actual bathroom today, get my legs working a little bit. D*mn…OK. I just fell flat on my face. Good thing nobody was here. Ok, Mulder, left foot, right foot…
That went well. I hop back into bed. Hop isn’t the right word. H*ll, I just jumped right in it. What’s on TV? Ooh, Rush Hour. Wakka!! This movie is hilarious.
Jay Leno is on. Molly Shannon is a guest. She’s crazy. Molly. My mollies. I miss them. Why did I name all my fish Molly? Samantha had a doll named Molly when she was 5 that used to belong to my mother. It’s still at the house. Maybe I’ll give it to Scully. She’d appreciate the gesture.
After Conan went off, I turned the TV off. Nothing I’m too interested in is on. And I thought I was bored before.
I have a visitor. Guess who it is? Kersh. What is he doing here this late? And what does he want?
“How have you feeling?”
“On top of the world.” I hate it when people ask stupid questions. “And you?” I ask, eyeballing him.
“I’m all right. Just came to see how you were doing. Your doctors said you were making progress.”
“Yes, sir.” What does this guy really want? He doesn’t like me. I don’t like him. And I know he isn’t just here to make chitchat.
“I assume you’ll want to get back to the X-Files when you’re well.”
“You assume correctly.” Why do I feel like he’s digging for something? These shadowy figures, always up to something.
“I don’t think that’s in you best interests, Agent Mulder. You should take some time off, have some time to yourself,” he says. What a load of crap.
“Since when do you care about what I do and what’s in my best interests?”
“Since I’ve become the Deputy Director in Charge of the X-Files.” I want to curse but I hold back my tongue. Kersh is no friend to the X-Files. If he had the power, he’d blink Scully and me out of existence. Kersh, my boss. No wonder he wants me to take time off. But he knows I won’t. So why is he really here?
“You. My superior? That’s the way the cookie crumbles.” What else can I say? I don’t want him to know how pissed off I am.
“Agent Mulder, I strongly suggest you take your leave of absence. I need my agents fit, physically and mentally, while they’re working.”
“Ok, fine. I’ll do just that,” I say with a helping of sarcasm. He seems to have noticed.
“Thank you. I’ll see you when you come back.” He turns and leaves. What in the bleeping blazes was that about? He’s covering for something, another agenda. Well I *am* going back to work. I need something to keep my mind off of how Scully got pregnant. Although…working with her makes that logic seem flawed, doesn’t it? What do I do?
What to do. I feel like reading. Too bad I ain’t got no books. My legs hurt. I guess trying to walk on my own wasn’t such I good idea.
TV. How fun. How boring. I’m not used to sitting on my butt all day doing nothing. I need excitement, danger. Oh, well. Maybe I can get a nurse to rent ‘Plan 9 From Outer Space.”
Last night, I dreamed that I was back on the ship, that the aliens were experimenting on me again. It was horrible. The images are frightening. I remember the needles, the alien bounty hunters, the sounds of the buzzing saws, the lasers slicing through my body. I woken up drenched in sweat before, but this nightmare was the worst of all. The memories, the pain. I was so scared. Scared that I would be awake through everything. Thank God I wasn’t. I blacked out a lot. I hated it when I woke up. It was like they were waiting for me so they could continue with the torture.
The other day when I first woke up, I knew that I’d be haunted by my experiences but for the first couple of days nothing happened. Then last night happened. I can’t help but to think of it. Every time I close my eyes, it’s there. I didn’t tell anyone. I don’t want them to feel sorry for me. Especially Scully. She’s got enough to worry about as it is. Speaking of Scully, she just walked in.
“Morning.” I close my eyes so as not to look at her stomach, which is more visible now under brown turtleneck. Dumb thing to do.
“I brought you some clothes.”
“Thank you.” I think she can sense my uneasiness about her…situation.
“Mulder…” I can tell by her tone of voice what she’s going to say next.
“Later, Scully.” I just can’t deal with this right now.
“Mulder, you can’t avoid it forever. We have to talk about this.”
“Not now, Scully!” That came out stronger than I meant it to. I try to apologize but she leaves in a hurry. Now I’ve made a mess of things. She probably thinks I don’t care. I hope she realizes that I need to sort everything out. Things like this only happen on TV, or at least they used to. Now I’m an X-File. What fun. I have to investigate myself. The irony.
I’d feel more rested if I hadn’t dreamed about my experience. I wouldn’t wish that on anybody…well, maybe except for the CGB Spender or Krycek. That would be the perfect punishment, the perfect punishment for messing around with people’s lives as if they were dolls in a dollhouse or pieces on a chessboard.
Looking out the window, I see people on the streets. Rushing to work I guess. I’m so jealous of them right now. Everyday they go on living their lives, oblivious to the forces against them. Forces who want to take their freedom from them.
I miss my mother. It’s been a year since she died and I miss her terribly. If only I had talked to her sooner, I might’ve sensed that she was trying to kill herself. Maybe she’d still be here. Maybe I’d be able to talk to her about this. We weren’t particularly close but I wish she were still here. For her to know that she would have the grandchild she always knew I’d have with Scully. I wonder if she knows. Mommy.
Do I sound like I need therapy or what? There is only one person I can talk to and I just yelled at her. It’s just that it’s all so confusing to me. I’m supposed to be dead, but I’m not. Scully’s not supposed to be pregnant but she is. The consequences of working on the X-Files.
I daydream a lot. I think about how my life would be without the X-Files and Scully, if Samantha had never been taken. Would I be happy? Most likely. I’d probably be married by now and have my own family. No sense in dwelling on what isn’t. What’s done is done and for what it’s worth, I’m glad I went through all that I have,
During my search for the truth, I have found my soul mate, my perfect opposite if there is such a thing. It’s like fate pushed us together, not only for love but for the good of our planet. We are it’s protectors, so to speak. It is our destiny. Geez, I sound like Darth Vader.
I climb back onto my bed and snuggle under the covers. If only I could stay here forever and not have to worry about saving the world…if only. But I have to go home and “recuperate.” Yeah right. The sooner I get back to work, the better.
One little, two little, three little Indians…No, I’m not bored. Well, I am, but I’m just trying not to think about what they did to me. Think happy thoughts, Mulder, happy thoughts. Birthday parties, graduations,. OK. This is not working too well. The memories just keep coming back. I feel like bashing my head in!! God, please make it stop!!
There was an old man named Michael Finnegan. He had whiskers…
It happened again. The nightmares. I can still hear the saws. H*ll, I even remember the smell of my flesh as it was being burned by the laser. Can you imagine how much it hurts to have your face stretched? I’m surprised my cheeks aren’t sagging. Do you have any idea how frightening it is to be strapped down to a chair by metal prods poking through your skin and watching a spinning saw come at you?
I close my eyes to try to picture something else.
“Mulder, you okay?” It’s Scully and Dr. Lee. Check out time.
“For a guy who was in a coffin not too long ago, I think I’m doing pretty d*mn good. I don’t quite have my legs under me…yet.” She knows something’s wrong, but I won’t tell her. I don’t need her to worry about my little problem.
“Well, you might want to consider sitting down when you hear what we have to tell you.”
Sit down? “Uh oh.” I do as suggested.
“No, it’s good news. It’s miraculous news. She looks back at Dr. Lee.
“I can’t possibly exaggerate the inconceivability of you sitting here,” he tells me. “But to be honest, your condition may be more incredible than your recovery.” I don’t know what he just said. I’m stuck at inconceivability. Is that even a word? Is that what I sound like? A dictionary?
“Whatever neurological disorder you were suffering from, it’s no longer detectable.” I never did tell her about that. She must’ve been angry when she found out. “After a course of transfusions and antivirals, it has rid your body of the virus that was invading it. The scars on your face-“ Why’d she have to mention those?”-on your hands, on your feet, on your chest, they, they seem to be repairing themselves.” Cool. I won’t have to walk around with these horrible reminders covered with foundation. “Mulder, you are in perfect health.”
“How do you feel, agent Mulder?”
How do I feel? “Like Austin Powers,” I smirk. I find myself staring at Scully’s stomach again. I’ve missed so much already, two-thirds of the pregnancy itself, the doctor appointments, just being there for Scully through this whole thing makes me wonder if what I do is worth the pain that it’s caused. Confusion. Frustration. I’m full of both.
I just realized that Scully has been trying to get my attention.
“You’re being released from the hospital. I’m going to take care of the forms, you get ready.” I watch as she follows Dr. Lee out into the hallway. Oy, that woman. She makes me melt. As I shower, I find my reminiscing about me and Scully, about the time when we were out in the woods and she was singing ‘Jeremiah was a Bullfrog’, when we got to play house during that case in California. That was fun. Now I know what to look forward to.
As I tie up my shoes, Scully pokes her head in.
“You ready, Mulder?”
“Yeah,” I say, walking towards her, “but no wheelchair.”
“I know,” she smiles. “They’re breaking policy for you.” I wave goodbye to my nurses and follow Scully to the car. I buckle myself in and pretend to nap to avoid talking to Scully about her pregnancy. I mean, she must have the same fears as I have. And it’s stupid of me not to talk about it. I will talk to her about it. Right now I just want to go home and stop seeing flashes of my experience.
Enough pretending. I put my seat back up and stare out the window, not thinking of anything in particular, just looking at the familiar places as we ride by. How ironic that a couple just crossed the street with their baby. Coincidence or a sign?
Though I’m happy for Scully, it’s just hard to believe how she could’ve gotten pregnant after everything we went through. I know I told her not give up on a miracle, but I mean, really. How is it possible? They took her ova. Who knows what they did with them. Her doctors could have been in cahoots with them. And how do we know they used my semen? How do we know that Scully and I made this child? How do we know that this child isn’t an alien?
I’m home, thank God. I’ve missed my fish. What does it mean when I’m more excited about my fish than Scully’s preganancy? I walk through my front door and take it all in.
“Must feel good to be home,” Scully says. She has no idea. I look around.
“Something looks different.” I can’t quite put my finger on what it is.
“Ah, that must be it.” Looking at my fish take I noticed something else. One of my fish are missing. “I’m missing a Molly,” I tell her, hiding my disappointment.
“Yeah. She wasn’t as lucky as you.” Ah. Here it comes. “Mulder…I don’t know if you’ll ever understand what it was like.” If you could see the expression on my face…I really do not feel like dealing with this right now. “First learning of your abduction, then searching for you and finding you dead.” She’s wrong. I do know what that’s like. “And now to have you back….” Yeah. I’m alive. I must be invincible or something.
“You act like your surprised.” That got her to smile.
“I prayed a lot. And my prayers have been answered.”
“In more ways than one.”
“Yeah.” I’m eyeing her stomach again. We didn’t really talk about custody rights and stuff like that because we never had to. The invitro didn’t work.
“I’m happy for you. I think I know how much this means to you.” What is wrong with me? Why can’t I just tell her what’s on my mind?
“Mulder.” She looks hurt.
“I’m sorry. I just…I have no idea where I fit in…right now.”
“Mulder, what is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s just…this whole thing! I’m supposed to b dead but I’m not. I wake up and you tell me your pregnant. You’re not supposed to be. Out of all the cases I’ve made sense of, I can’t make sense of this!” There. I said it. I didn’t mean to blow up at her.
“I’m sorry, Scully. It’s so d*mn frustrating the way they mess with our lives like this.”
“I understand how you feel Mulder. It’s enough to make you go crazy, but no one forced you to get on that ship. You did that on your own.” She’s right about that. I did. Is this what all my frustration is about? Me blaming myself? If I’d never gotten on that ship I would have been here for Scully. I’d be used to it by now.
“Yes, I did, but I was trying to protect you and trying to find the truth. I had no idea what I was getting into.”
“You never do, Mulder. Your determination to seek the truth puts you in more danger every time. And I don’t want you dying on me anytime soon. Before or after I drop this kid.” She wants me to be a part of the kid’s life. No surprise there. I just have to get used to the fact that my son, or daughter, will be born in three months.
I’d be used to it by then. Maybe Scully and I will be together by then, you never know. What if we get married? That would really make Bill’s head spin!!
I sit on my leather sofa. Ah. It feels GREAT to be home. I close my eyes. I don’t want her to see my tears, although she’s seen me cry before. After some difficulty Scully sits down next to me. And she’s too close. Sometimes when we are alone like this, I just want to kiss her, make love to her all over again. What a woman. Fortunately I’ve learned to restrain myself. Deep breaths, Mulder. Deep breaths. One, two, three.
“Hey, Scully, I got any food?”
“Yeah, I went shopping yesterday.” I run to the fridge. It’s fully stocked. I make us turkey breasts sandwiches with Miracle Whip, lettuce, cheese, and pickles. I smashed Doritos in mine. Mm, mm good!
As we eat on the couch we talk about things that have been going on, politics, news, what morning sickness is really like, who came to my funeral, you know, regular stuff.
“Scully, why don’t you go lie down. You look beat.”
“No, I’m alright, Mulder. I’d rather sit and talk.”
“The age old custom, eh? What else do we have to talk about Scully?”
“Well, your experience for one. It had to have been traumatizing for you.”
“I don’t remember much of anything,” I say, not meeting her eyes, I don’t want her to fell pity for me. That’s the last thing I need, pity.”
A week and a half later
Well, life is relatively back to normal. I’m back at work, though not officially on the X-Files, thanks to that over-sized head of Kersh’s. They’d do anything to stop me. They know how far I’d go to find the truth about my sister and what they’ve done to Scully.
It’s getting closer and closer to her due date and I find myself getting more and more excited. Ever since I first put my hand on her stomach, I felt a different connection to us, to our child. I still fear what the child may be, no matter how human he, or she, may seem. And it’ll be my job to protect him. Uncharted territory lies ahead and I plan to embrace it full force.