Where Are You Going?

By Jolee Patkai

All rights for the X-Files belong to FOX and 1013.  This is
purely a fiction based on my own imagination!


Dana Scully lay alone and troubled.  Life certainly had thrown
her a curve, yet again.  Only this time, for some odd reason, she
hadn't even seen it coming.  And for that oversight, she had only
herself to blame.  She had opened her mind to the possibility of
happiness, had let joy creep in, and now she was paying the
price.

He was gone.  Just gone!   Had he ever really been here, at all,
or had that been her imagination and wishful thinking bringing
him to life?  No one could answer that question, least of all,
herself. And the thing is, everyone she knew was blaming her. 
Blaming her for his leaving.  Was she to blame?  Maybe.....but
things were cloudy, now, and there was no slick answer to ease
everyone's concerns, everyone's questions.  She was so tired of
all the looks, the disbelieving stares, the accusing eyes.  Oh,
God....just let him be OK!

In the crib, the baby stirred.  Small scared cries began to leave
the small mouth.  Baby arms swung in the air, and little legs
kicked at the confining blankets.  Overhead, the baby mobile
began it's creaky journey around and around, again.  All this
happened within the space of a second, and Scully immediately
sat up, leaning over the crib.

This, then, was the other thing that was causing her no end of
suffering.  This strange, otherworldly child that she now
possessed.  This beautiful boy, with blue eyes like his father,
who, even now, was looking at her with such knowledge and
fear.  Did this baby know or somehow sense that something was
very different in his world?  Did he wonder where his father
was?

Shushing her baby, Scully shook her head at such thoughts.   He
was only a baby, for crying out loud.  Just a little soul, not even
a month old.  She was angry at herself, for letting Agent
Doggett's words get to her.  But still and all, how could she
explain the mobile?  Getting right down to it, she just didn't
want to believe that anything was wrong.  She just wanted to
treasure this wonderful boy, and love him.  Hold him and try and
keep her sorrow at bay for just a little longer.

Reaching into the crib, she lifted the crying baby to her chest. 
Rocking back and forth, she sang tunelessly to him, and willed
him to settle.  She was so tired, these days.  Fear was a very
draining emotion, as she had found out.  It took all her strength
just to get through the days. The nights were another matter. 
She just didn't sleep, and being a doctor, she knew she needed
help.  But who could she trust?   She had never bounced back
after the traumatic birth of William.  And being weak, did not sit
well with Dana Scully.  But really, after such a pregnancy, could
anybody ever bounce back?  She liked to think she was not
alone in this.  Nine months of grief, disbelief, conspiracy, fear,
and then the birth......aahhhhhhhh the birth.

Laying back in her bed, cradling her son, Scully went back over
the events of that night.  It had been her worst nightmare come
true, or so she thought.  When Monica had thrown the boiling
water over the ranger, she had known that they had been found.
Knew that her child's life was in danger.  She had tried to keep
the contractions at bay, refusing to release her baby from the
protection of her womb.  But God had not listened to her
screams or her pleas.  And to the sound of Monica yelling
"Push, Dana" and in view of all those monsters, her son had
emerged screaming into the night.  Her cries for mercy and her
horror at what was going to happen had fallen like breaking
crystal in the room.  And then, just like that, the monsters had
retreated.  Leaving her alone, holding her slippery child in her
arms, while blood poured from her body.  She had felt relief fill
her, even as consciousness left her. She had woken  in the
Georgetown Hospital with a start.  "Don't take my baby!" had
torn from her throat, the instant she became aware that her arms
were empty.  Mulder had been there to comfort her, and tell her
everything was OK.  She was OK, and the baby was OK. 
Words that John Doggett had said to her months ago.  But now,
laying in her bed, clutching her baby to her breast, she wondered
if that were true.  

As the baby nursed, contractions tore through her uterus, bring
tears to her eyes.  This was such a poignant time for her, this
was what was real, now.  This was her life!  As good as it was
going to get.  There would never be someone beside her to ease
her fears.  There would never be arms to hold her... to love her! 
This she would have to accept.  He was Gone...just Gone...and
she was alone.  This she understood...but she would always
regret not being able to ask him those words one more time. 
That phrase that she had repeated over and over during their
years together.  Those words that even in the early days, had
echoed her worst fears of being without him.

As tears slid down her cheeks, she whispered the words he
would never hear....."Mulder..Mulder...Where Are You Going?"

The End!