Begin: Against My Ruins (4/5)

Most people aren't aware of the moments in their lives that shape their 
destiny until after each moment has passed, so I should consider myself 
a fortunate man.  

God - whoever or whatever you are - bless my son.  He called anyone 
with long hair "Mama" these days; Langly and the check-out clerk on the 
corner were also "Mama."  Langly hadn't bought him any more tiny 
Grateful Dead T-shirts after being addressed as such, although the 
clerk, also having breasts and a beard, seemed to understand the 
confusion.  But this time he had pointed a sticky finger at Dana Scully 
and asked, "Dada - Mama?"  In that instant, I mentally granted Will a 
Corvette for his sixteenth birthday and anything else he wanted between 
now and then.  Good thing he couldn't say "stock options" yet.

I was in the rare presence of a full-blown Scully smile aimed at my 
son.  Her face glowed.  I picked up Will and moved toward her - it was 
the longest twenty feet of my life.  I had spent the last seven months 
rehearsing several hundred perfect phrases I could say to her when I 
saw her again and my brain chose this second to go blank on every one 
of them.  "I don't know, Will," I told him, "Let's ask her."

Behind Scully, Skinner disappeared into the elevator wearing his 
blankest of blank expressions.  I added Walter Skinner to the list of 
people for my elusive God to bless. 

She stood up when I reached her and raised her hands.  I shifted Will 
around and started to hand him to her.  Scully hadn't seen him since I 
took him back when he was four months old.  She bypassed my son 
completely and wrapped her arms around my waist, blending her body 
against mine.  

"I've missed you so much," her lips moved against my throat.

Standing outside our basement office with my son in one arm and my 
partner in the other, I understood once more what Einstein's equation 
really meant.  My time slowed, the moment stretching out into infinity.  
I've had three moments like this in the last two years.  The first had 
been when I kissed Will's mother goodbye when I left her home in Texas.  
She was already a few day's pregnant then - my son a bundle of cells 
frantically dividing inside her.  The second time was when the doctor 
turned off her ventilator after Will was born.  I had watched her chest 
for an eon, willing it to rise again without the machine.  It never 
did.  It was happening again tonight.  Twice for two of the best 
moments in my life, once for one of the worst - not such a bad record 
when you put it that way.  "My life, when it is written, will read 
better than it lived."  Henry Plantagenet said that - or at least Peter 
O'Toole playing Henry II said that - and it had been true of much of 
mine.  

Whatever I had done to deserve one of Scully's rare overt displays of 
affection and however the moment ended, it was going to be a pivotal 
point in the narrative of my life.  I rested my jaw against Scully's 
silky hair and absorbed every sensation, trying to memorize every 
nuance.  Destiny-shaping moments don't come along very often.
**********

Months ago, Skinner had asked me if I loved Scully.  I told him I loved 
Scully like nothing else and I still do.  But I don't love her the same 
way I used to.  I started out life as an over-privileged brat and I 
never quite grew out of that.  I thought the world owed me things - 
answers, exceptions, and Dana Scully.  I thought I somehow deserved 
her, and it ate at me that I couldn't have her.   Have her - like a 
possession I would put on a shelf and take down only to play with the 
way I want.  I didn't see her as existing beyond what I wanted to 
fit my fantasies.  I didn't see her as a person.

Loving my rascal of a son has helped me learn how a man should love a 
woman.  I love Scully now as easily and as thoughtlessly as I breathe, 
like she had always been an extension of me and always would be.  I 
didn't need to get anything out of loving her - not to see her, not to 
touch her.  That would be nice, though.  I would go to the ends of the 
Earth again to help her or I would stay away from her for the rest of 
my life - whichever she needed.  My life could go on, other 
women could come and go.  I could probably even love again, if I was 
interested, but I would never feel the same sense of completeness that 
I felt with Scully.

I wasn't selfish about my love anymore.

I guess I'm a grown-up now.

You know, becoming a grown-up is probably easier when you do it right 
out of college.  Once you hit thirty-five, it seems to take getting 
married, having a baby and several months of visits to the 
psychiatrist, not to mention a ton of pills.  Actually, it didn't.  It 
took realizing that I was going to go home to an apartment without my 
wife, my partner, my child and my dog for the rest of my life unless I 
got my head on straight.  Sometimes standing in an empty bedroom 
works much better than any amount of psycho-babble about my mother.

I am not personally to blame for every bad thing that happens in this 
world.  

I have that written out about five hundred times somewhere, in case I 
ever forget it again.

Scully and my wife were both incredible women - beautiful, smart, 
successful.  They were responsible for the choices they had made.  
Their choices as well as mine had created my wonderful son and I 
wouldn't change that for the world.  I would do it all again.  I'd 
spent a year making my peace with that.   

Time had let me distance myself a little and I could see myself as 
others must have seen me: impulsive, infatuated, self-centered, 
cowardly.  I didn't add stupid to the list describing my actions; there 
was nothing stupid about wanting Will's mother.  She was a wonderful 
woman.  I just didn't love her. And she didn't love me.
  
I loved Scully.  I knew that before I met 'Lizabeth.  There, I said it.  
Thought it.  Fuck - whatever. Elizabeth.  Dr. Elizabeth Matthews 
Mulder.  Right after she died, my brain decided it was easier to think 
she had never existed.  No wife, no losing Scully, no new baby.  It had 
never happened; it was too awful to be real.  Then my mind decided she 
was still there, just asleep somewhere.  I had a terrible time getting 
her to eat and rest while she was pregnant; it was comforting to think 
she was finally laying down.  She would wake up soon and it would be 
okay.  The doctor gave me some really cool medication.  All of a sudden 
I didn't believe that any more - I knew I used to believe it, but now I 
didn't.  He was concerned that I still thought there were aliens 
colonizing the planet, but that wasn't the delusion I was paying him to 
get rid of, so he didn't sweat it.

Elizabeth was not going to wake up.  I met her, I slept with her, I got 
her pregnant, I married her, and she died giving birth to my son.   End 
of the story of her life.

I loved Scully - that's what had made my actions so inexcusable to me.  
I knew it.  I didn't suspect it, I didn't debate it, I didn't question 
it.  I knew it as certain as I knew the sun would come up each morning.  
I should have spent the rest of my life with Dana Scully.  

So why did I do it?  

I got greedy.  And I was a coward.

**********

The first time I saw 'Lizabeth I thought of Scully.  She was so like 
her and yet she wasn't.  A lot of the attraction was physical, but not 
all.  And a lot of the physical attraction was because she reminded me 
of Scully.  Okay, some of it was because men drove into pedestrians 
when she walked down the street.  I liked to hide behind the "she 
reminded me of Scully" defense, but that's not completely true. She 
reminded me of a blonder Scully with bigger breasts and this incredibly 
firm round ass.  I might have loved Scully, but I was still a 
man.

Scully doesn't think she is soft anymore.  Emotionally, I mean.  I 
would agree.  The awful things she has seen have hardened her over the 
years.  But they've changed me as well and I respect Scully for being 
true to herself - she has faced her demons and come back.  The horrors 
she knows have hardened her because she challenged them; 'Lizabeth 
stayed soft because she ran.  And speaking as someone who has been 
there - damn she was soft.   

I still wonder exactly why she invited me into her home.  In hindsight, 
I think she saw me as her personal savior.  The FBI profiler that was 
going to save her kidnapped clients.  Someone who had faced the same 
things - the same THEM - that she had.  Someone her husband had 
approved of.  Someone who might understand.  Her version of Southern 
hospitality had included an invitation to her bed.

That makes her sound like a slut.  She certainly was not, contrary to 
what Scully seemed to think.  Yes, Scully, I know you hated her.  Would 
you rather I had dumped you for someone you really liked?  See, I was 
trying to be helpful.  Okay, sorry, that wasn't funny.

I'm sure Scully imagined my first time with Elizabeth as incredible, 
earth-shattering.  It was nice, but the earth did not move.  I even 
stopped and asked her if she was sure she wanted to do this - she 
seemed so reluctant.  She was naked at the time - who says I have no 
self-control?  She looked at me puzzled and said "yes."  I'd though she 
was just shy, or inexperienced, but her technique wasn't inexperienced.  
It was just accustom to pleasing another man.   

The second time we made love, she was a little more assertive, more 
playful.  By the third time, she had figured out what I liked - an 
equal partner who was versatile.  Rough and tender, funny and serious, 
dominant and passive.  Yea, I'm greedy.  That woman was raised to 
please and I was hooked.  My brain was housed in my groin for about the 
next seven months.

So why did I say yes?  She was everything I thought I wanted, if I 
didn't think too deep.  
 
Of course, I didn't know what I wanted at the time.  I'd told Scully 
once that 'Lizabeth was her with a Southern childhood, a big belly, and 
no abduction.  Change that belly to breasts and make her a believer and 
you've about got it.  No huge mystery.  I was frustrated with Scully 
not panting after me like I panted after her or believing the things I 
believed, and then this woman that was a weird combination of my 
partner and a Playboy Bunny offered.  It never occurred to me to say 
no.      
 
What did I feel towards 'Lizabeth?  That's a hard question.  I felt 
protective and I certainly felt attracted.  I knew I was confusing her 
with Scully, and when I touched her and she didn't pull away, I was 
sunk.  So we spent the night together.  I've had one-night stands 
before - no big deal.  But I did this right.  She was terrified and 
somehow I managed to do and say all the right things, for once.  I was 
with a woman who was so like Scully and I made her come.  When you are 
as insecure as I was, that's a God-like feeling.   Later, when she 
actually wanted to have sex again, my ego was flying.  It wasn't hard 
to convince myself that I loved her.  Not like I loved Scully, but 
Scully has never wrapped her naked legs around my hips while I fucked 
her in the shower, either.  It's a very different type of love, often 
referred to as lust.

Other questions Scully will want answers to are easier.  Why didn't I 
think about birth control?  'Lizabeth was a responsible woman; if it 
would have been an issue for her, I thought she would have said 
something.  I assumed it wasn't.  It was stupid, I know.  Maybe 
unconsciously, I hoped she would get pregnant and give me an excuse to 
stay with her.  Careful what you wish for.  I still can't explain why 
she took the chance, but I'm eternally grateful that she did.

Why did I leave 'Lizabeth in Texas after the case?  She didn't ask me 
to stay.  And she was really screwed up then.  She needed some time to 
absorb what had happened - not with me but with the case and her life.  
I thought I'd never see her again.  

So I flew back to DC and sorted things out for awhile.  I was glad when 
Scully found out everything that happened between 'Lizabeth and me; I 
didn't like keeping secrets from her.  I was floored at what Scully 
said to me - that she wanted me to be both her friend and her lover.  
Well, she didn't exactly say that, but that was the short version.  She 
actually said a lot more and she said it a lot louder.  Whatever was 
happening in her possessive little heart, I would take whatever I could 
get when it came to Scully.  

You want me, Scully?  You got me - on a silver patter, with a rose 
between my teeth, whatever you want.  Except she really didn't.  Every 
time I crossed the line from buddies to maybe-lovers, she froze.  We 
could hold hands, friend-kiss, even cuddle up in bed together, but when 
it came to sex or secrets, she always pulled away.  I thought maybe she 
was frigid.  Fine, I can help with frigid.  Finally I realized she just 
didn't trust me.  You trust me with your life, Scully, but not with 
your heart or you body.  I get that at work all day- I don't need it in 
my bed, too. More of your passive-aggressive bullshit.  Touch me, don't 
touch me, Mulder.  Tell me your secrets so I can not tell you mine, 
Mulder.  Christ, Scully - can't anything ever be easy for us?  What the 
hell do you want, woman?  

All I wanted was for you to love me like I loved you and you didn't.

Elizabeth must have e-mailed me when she first discovered she was 
pregnant.  She didn't tell me then, but I don't think I would have ever 
heard from her again if that wasn't the case.  She was naive about many 
things, but not about what we were to each other that weekend - under 
different circumstances, we could have been wonderful together.  But we 
found each other when she was looking for her dead husband and I was 
looking for Scully and that doesn't make for a foundation 
for a healthy romantic relationship.  

I liked 'Lizabeth, though.  There was a lot to like.  She was smart, 
kind, thoughtful, funny.  Didn't chatter my ear off.  Had Scully not 
been sitting across from my desk each day, I would have gone after 
'Lizabeth in a big way.  We became friends.  She wrote or called and 
told me about the news from Texas. I told her about my cases and all my 
best jokes.  How do you make five pounds of fat attractive?  Add a 
nipple.  I told her about Scully.  She told me about Todd, the man that 
had dinner with us that first night.  We laughed at each other's 
incredibly bad relationship skills.  A day didn't pass for several 
months that I didn't communicate with 'Lizabeth.  Then it stopped.

She was scheduled to present at a conference in New York - one of her 
rare trips out of the South.  I invited her to schedule a layover in DC 
and meet Scully and me for dinner.  Let them meet.  Seemed like a 
brilliant plan at the time.  No romance, no pressure; just wanted two 
of my best friends to meet.  'Lizabeth got very quiet on the phone.  

"Is this going to work between you and Scully?" she finally asked.

"I'm trying.  I want it to.  Maybe I'm just a big coward," I told her 
and laughed.  It had been a running joke between us - me being 
terrified of one-hundred pounds of Scully.

"I don't want you to call me anymore, Mulder.  I want you to be happy 
with Scully.  You're a good man and I like you, so don't contact me or 
try to see me again."  Her voice was very soft.  

I sat on the couch holding the phone, stunned.  I was having no trouble 
separating my struggling relationship with Scully from my friendship 
with 'Lizabeth.  The past was the past.  "You're not going to interfere 
with Scully and me, 'Lizabeth, if that's what you're afraid of."  That 
was all I could think that she might mean.

"Yes, I would.  Goodbye, Mulder. Thank you for everything."  And she 
hung up.  

'Lizabeth didn't know me as well as Scully did.  She should have made 
up a new jealous boyfriend (which she actually kind of had - Todd had 
been hanging around, but she wasn't having anything to do with him 
until his divorce was final), or a job offer in Europe.  You can't just 
leave me hanging like that and not expect me to track down clues like a 
bloodhound.  By the end of the week, I had the records for her credit 
cards, her checking account, home and business phone, and her e-mail 
password.  Sorting through the reams of paper, I figured out what that 
"P" meant on 'Lizabeth's and Scully's clothes- 4P, 6P.  "P" for 
"Pretty damn expensive."  I found my answer in her e-mail exchanges 
with her old friend from college; she was pregnant with my child and 
she was scared - she didn't say of what - but I bet now that it was 
THEM.

The tape was in a plain envelope wedged in my door when I came back 
from running the day I found out she was pregnant.  As soon as I heard 
what was on it, I knew who had been listening - the FBI went over her 
house with a fine-toothed comb and didn't find any microphones.  If 
they were there, whoever they belonged to had better technology than 
the FBI.  I knew who that was.  THEM. The Smoking Man.  The Consortium.  
The same men that took my sister and Scully.  Gave Scully cancer.  Gave 
'Lizabeth's husband cancer when he wouldn't kill for them anymore.  
Killed my father and Scully's sister and God knows how many innocent 
people.  That THEM.

It was a tape of the first thing I said when I walked into her home - 
THEY wanted me to know they heard every word we said.  It ended with 
the first time we had sex and a warning from the Smoking Man.  C. G. B. 
Spender.  Stop searching for the truth or lose them both.  I first 
thought he meant Scully and 'Lizabeth.  Then I realized one of "them 
both" was the baby.  The other could be either of them.  It was like my 
dream of Diana and the suburbs come-to-life.  Give up and I got 
everything THEY thought I wanted.  Keep looking and lose it all.  

Their threats didn't make my choice as THEY probably thought they 
would, but they factored in.  All I ever really wanted to know was what 
happened to my sister, Samantha.  I knew that now - I had my truth.  No 
one else needed to die because of my quest.  If I had to choose, EBEs 
could move in next door to me as long as they didn't hurt my child, my 
'Lizabeth, or my Scully.  I wonder what happened to that tape.  I wish 
I had a copy, preferably with a video to go with it.  I miss 'Lizabeth 
some nights.  I miss Scully some nights and most days. 

Why didn't I question that the baby was mine?  I did see another man 
naked in her bed that morning.  Because I was there, Scully.  I've been 
with teenage girls that were more aggressive in bed.  Don't panic, I 
was also a teenager at the time.  Anyway, she certainly hadn't been 
boinking the masses.  I was the only man - alive- that got to call her 
"Liz."  It was quite a feeling.   

I thought about Scully for a long time before I called.  Scully did not 
love me.  Period.  She might be possessive, she might be tolerant, she 
might be curious, but she did not want what I wanted.  I wanted 
forever.  Scully didn't.  I needed to quit while I was ahead, while I 
still had my best friend.  
 
I thought about 'Lizabeth.  She loved so easily and I thought I could 
make her love me.  I saw 'Lizabeth as a before version of Scully - a 
chance to make up for my sins against my partner.  I could go back to 
the Scully I first met and right all my wrongs.  I could keep her safe, 
never have her be hurt or disillusioned because of me.  I could have a 
family.  I wouldn't be alone anymore. In my greedy mind, it was a 
tempting offer.  

Elizabeth also had something I wanted badly.  I always thought I was 
Mr. Pro-Choice, women's lib, yadda, yadda, yadda.  Not when it came to 
my child, I wasn't.  I was terrified that 'Lizabeth would just get an 
abortion and I would have no say about it.  If she did have the baby, 
that didn't mean I would ever get to see it.  Even if I could convince 
a judge that Spooky Mulder was a fit father, I might get visitation, at 
most, with my child living a thousand miles away, probably being raised 
by Todd the Pompous.  No court was going to give me and my mental 
health history custody over Dr. Matthews the child NEUROpsychologist.  

I thought of how good it felt to lay in the dark with Scully, listening 
to her soft breathing.  Was it worth it to never hear that again for 
the rest of my life?  Did I let my child and a chance at happiness go 
so I could keep chasing a woman who didn't want to be chased?  I had to 
make my choice now and live with it forever.  I wasn't in the minor 
leagues any more - I was playing with the big boys now.

It took a long Saturday night and Sunday morning and a bottle of Scotch 
to decide.  I kissed Scully goodnight like I never had before.  It was 
selfish, I know, but I pulled her to me and melted my body into hers - 
just once so I would know what it was like.  Incredible, of course.  
She didn't invite more.  That made my final decision. 

How did I get 'Lizabeth to move to DC?  I told her to.  I'd seen my 
father do it to my mother and I hated it.  I hated the kicked-dog look 
on my mother's face when he barked orders at her.  I thought he was a 
monster.  Like father, like son.  
 
I had to talk fast before 'Lizabeth hung up on me.  I told her I knew 
she was pregnant.  That bought me some time.  I told her I wanted the 
baby and I wanted her.  She listened.  I tried to persuade her - we 
were both adults, we were both professional, we were already friends, 
we were good lovers - we should at least give us a chance and see if 
there was an us.  I told her I could keep her safe from THEM.  I told 
her I loved her.  I thought I meant it.  'Lizabeth didn't budge.   I 
could hear the quiet stubbornness in her voice that I only liked when 
it was directed at other people.   

After an hour of discussion and half the bottle of Scotch, I got mad.  
My father's voice came out of my mouth and said she was moving to DC 
and she was going to give our relationship a chance or I would come get 
her.  She owed it to our child and she owed it to me and she was being 
selfish.  My level of respect for her dropped a notch when she said 
yes.  

Once she agreed, she never looked back.  I have no idea what she told 
Todd, but I spent all of Sunday figuring out what to tell Scully.  I 
kept thinking of Emily and a vial of ova.  I couldn't bring myself to 
tell Scully about the pregnancy yet.  I would wait until she hated me; 
a baby would be a mere ping on her psyche compared to how she would 
hate me.  

But Scully said she didn't hate me.  She said she loved me and I asked 
her to marry me.  What did I think she was going to say?  "Of course, 
Mulder.  I've secretly always wanted to spend my life with you - my not 
wanting you in my bed was just a ploy to make you crazy for me."  

Scully, if you would have just said "maybe" or "sort of" or "I'll try."  
If you had done anything besides looking at me with those terrified 
eyes, my life would be very different today. But you didn't. 

After I told Scully, things happened fast.  The next thing I knew, 
'Lizabeth was in my arms in front of my apartment building.  She was so 
beautiful and soft and she smelled so good.  I had every reason to be 
deliriously happy.  For a while, I even was.

I thought I had it made.  I got to work all day with my Scully - 
chasing monsters and phantoms - and then to go home and make love to my 
'Lizabeth.  The best of both worlds.  I was a happy man.

Scully was wonderful.  She continued to be my partner and friend - she 
was even nice to 'Lizabeth.  What a woman.  In the blur that surrounded 
my first weeks with 'Lizabeth, Scully kind of got overlooked.  Even 
once the novelty wore off, I was blindly committed to 'Lizabeth and our 
relationship.  I can't imagine what that did to Scully.  At the time, I 
thought she was okay with it.  

'Lizabeth was wonderful.  I had wondered how she had been able to go to 
college, let alone finish her doctorate, in an atmosphere where 
education often wasn't highly valued in women.  I got my answer quickly 
once she started spending weekends with me.  Her husband had been 
accepting, even supportive of her going to school, provided she took 
care of him first.  'Lizabeth expected me to share his beliefs.  I 
didn't.  The complete male pig in me has to admit it was nice, 
though.  We finally achieved a compromise where she got to cook and 
clean everything in sight and I got to dote on her shamelessly.  Both 
seemed to make her happy.  Who would have thought Fox Mulder would end 
up with Betty Crocker?  

Only at home, though.  My domestic little 'Lizabeth quickly became 
either the terror or the darling of every school system and many 
parents and graduate psych students in the greater DC area - depended 
on whether they shared her opinions or not.  I hadn't realized how 
successful she was - I'd thought the car, clothes, gadgets, and horse 
were bought with her father's money.  Nope.  I had a beautiful, giving, 
successful girlfriend who was pregnant with my child at home 
and a brilliant, dedicated partner and best friend at work.  Even in 
spite of 'Lizabeth's demon-possessed dog, it was one of the happiest 
times of my life.  I thought I'd found what I wanted.

I didn't think Scully would actually come to dinner with us, even when 
I told her about it.  I was only going because I wanted 'Lizabeth to 
see I did normal things.  She'd been giving me worried looks after 
meeting the Gunmen.  I must have been feeling suicidal the night I 
decided it was a good idea to introduce her to them.  

If I remember the conversation with Frohike when I told him about 
'Lizabeth, the phrase "head completely up you ass" was involved.  I 
think Frohike believed if he ignored her long enough, she'd go away, so 
he refused to speak to her.  She was unfailingly nice to him, of 
course, and he was eventually willing to glare at her from across the 
room.  Langly had run his version of a background check on her and her 
late husband, so he and Frohike were wearing Kevlar.  Langly said her 
husband "was one bad-assed mother-fucker."  He said it to her face.  Oh 
- and Byers was smitten.  Nerd lust, to add to the party atmosphere.  
So I had spent the evening sitting in their bunker listening to them 
discuss their latest conspiracy theories, with Byers making puppy-dog 
faces and Frohike staring daggers into her, while my girlfriend's eyes 
got as big as saucers.  I thought dinner with the FBI family would seem 
normal in comparison.  

It was also a chance to show her off.  I am a pig - I have never denied 
it.
     
'Lizabeth was already at the restaurant when Scully, Skinner, me, and 
everyone else got there, so Scully didn't see her belly.  She wasn't 
showing very much yet, but I could tell.  She didn't have that build-
like-a-brick-shithouse figure anymore, and it was bothering her.  
Didn't bother me - I was excited.  Of course, I wasn't the one getting 
fat.  Anyway, we got there and all the men start to drool over Scully 
and 'Lizabeth.  Yes, Skinner, I did notice.  Don't worry, I had the 
same fantasy about the two of them, too.  I realized that, at some 
point in the evening, 'Lizabeth was going to have to stand up and that 
Scully was a doctor and a woman.  She wasn't going to miss it.  I 
ordered a drink.  Scully and 'Lizabeth had their heads together 
whispering about something, hopefully not me.  I ordered another, then 
another.  

The next thing I remember is Scully standing in my doorway staring at 
'Lizabeth's belly, me screaming like a caveman at my girlfriend, and 
telling Skinner to take Scully home.  Not one of the prouder moments of 
my life, and I say that as someone who has had holes drilled in his 
head.  I have no idea what else I said to Scully, but 'Lizabeth told me 
she was crying on the street outside when she left the apartment 
building.  

Then my soul was ripped apart- my Scully left me.  There was an e-mail 
from Skinner saying she was taking some leave time.  After a few days, 
I realized she wasn't coming back.  Ever.  I knew this was going to 
happen, and I tried to go on.  'Lizabeth and I had marathon sex.   
Dinner and dancing.  I went with her to her ultrasound.  I saw the baby 
on the screen while I held 'Lizabeth's hand.  I dropped her off at the 
University, drove over to Scully's apartment, barged in and told her I 
would tell 'Lizabeth to get an abortion and get out if Scully would 
just come back to work.  I meant it.  To hell with 'Lizabeth, the baby, 
the threats on the tape - it wasn't worth it if I had to spend my life 
without Scully.  If she'd said no, I probably would have swallowed a 
bullet.  She came back and I added another layer of guilt to the thick 
lacquer on my soul every time I looked at my girlfriend's growing 
belly.

I tried everything I knew to make 'Lizabeth happy and I think she was.  
She wasn't looking for the same kind of happiness I was, but I think 
she was content about most things.  That was one of the few bad things 
about her - and Scully is the same way - I had to guess at what she was 
feeling.  Her still waters ran very deep and I wasn't one of the people 
privy to the secrets of her deep.  I got to fuck her, yes, but not to 
know what she felt towards me.     

She tried to make me happy, as well.  She gave every appearance of 
adoring me, and I don't know that she didn't.  Whatever she really 
felt, she'd made her decision and she stuck by it.  So did I.  We 
should have been wonderful together - my needy, driven, outgoing man 
and 'Lizabeth's giving, serene, shy woman.  On paper, it looked great.  
In real life, it felt hollow.  Hollow isn't as bad as you'd think it 
would be.  Factor in good sex, common beliefs, and plenty of money to 
play with, and two friends committed to each other can live with hollow 
pretty happily.   

Somewhere along the line, I realized what it was that wasn't right 
between 'Lizabeth and me - other than that she was in love with her 
dead husband.  I began to understand how much she didn't want this baby 
and that stung.  I was beside myself over the idea of being a father, 
and I resented that she didn't feel that same excitement.  She never 
said a word, but I knew.  If she had wanted children, she probably 
would have had them with her husband that she loved and not with me 
that she didn't love.  I thought about the nightmares Scully still had 
and the children that she never would.  The more I thought about it, 
the more I disliked 'Lizabeth for feeling that way.

I started to drink more.  Not drunk, but a little numb to take the edge 
off and let me relax.  Enough to let me ignore little nagging details 
like 'Lizabeth not really wanting to be with me or wanting to have our 
child.  Like the pretty redhead that spent hours each day with me 
trying hard to look like I hadn't disappointed her.  I tried to make 
'Lizabeth more like Scully.   I wanted her to be tougher, more 
resilient.  More aggressive.  That didn't work well.  I even called her 
"Scully" a few times - or so she said.  I started wanting to have sex 
with her from behind - that's never a good sign in a relationship.  My 
excuse was that her belly got in the way, but that wasn't the truth.  I 
wanted to close my eyes and pretend she was Scully.  

Scully knocked on my hotel door one night to ask if I wanted anything 
ironed- she was pressing her suit for the next day.  It was just a 
friendly offer, but something snapped inside of me.  I thanked her, 
told her no, and drove to the liquor store.  No, Scully, I didn't need 
anything pressed.  My lovely girlfriend had ironed everything within an 
inch of its life when she helped me pack this morning, reaching 
awkwardly over her pregnant stomach to make sure my collars were 
perfect.  My apartment was spotless and my fridge was full.  I got back 
rubs when I was tired after work and she met me at the door with a 
beer.  Men looked at me enviously when I took 'Lizabeth anywhere.  

No, Scully, I didn't need anything pressed.  I needed you to come lay 
down beside me and kiss this whole mess away.  I needed my girlfriend 
to tell me what went on behind her placid blue eyes.  I needed her to 
open those eyes when I made love to her.  Actually, Scully, I wanted 
you to be nothing like 'Lizabeth and I wanted 'Lizabeth to be 
everything that you were.  I wanted her to interrupt me, argue with me, 
chase after bad guys in three-inch heels.  I wanted a woman who 
couldn't cook, told me to get my own damn beer, and occasionally 
shot me.  One who never arched her back and turned on the charm to get 
out of traffic tickets, or answered to "honey."  I wanted her to put 
herself on the line for me, be ready to die beside me because I would 
do the same for her.  I hated 'Lizabeth for not being you.  I realized 
the scope of the mistake that I had made, but it was too late.   

I don't think 'Lizabeth was worldly enough to realize that.  She got 
caught up in her teaching and her clients and, except for taking care 
of me, sex, and social events, I didn't play an important part in her 
life.  I had more dreams where it was Scully with the swollen belly 
laying beside me in bed.  For the first time since she moved to DC, 
'Lizabeth actually spent a weekend at her townhouse.      

When she collapsed, I sobered up.  This wasn't a game, it was my life, 
and in a little over a month, I was going to have a son.  How did I get 
her to marry me?  Same way I got her to DC - I ordered her to.  Scully 
told me to give her more time.   I wasn't sure there was enough time in 
the world to fix what I had screwed up.  My new wife did not love me.  
I had no question that I did not love her, no matter how much I liked 
her.  Her heart belonged to a dead man and I was getting whatever was 
left.  My heart belonged to Scully, whether she wanted it or not. It's 
tough to make a marriage work with problems like that, but I wanted 
to try.  

I was holding our son when she stopped breathing. 

The doctor hadn't seemed concerned about her labor, even though it was 
three weeks early, but it scared the hell out of me.  She had become 
tired and hadn't wanted to push.  The nurse had tried to motivate her 
by saying that she would have a beautiful son soon if she kept pushing.  
I knew those weren't the magic words.

"Think of a flat stomach.  Size six jeans.  Bikinis.  Little thong 
panties.  Push, honey."  That got me a smile and pushing.  She wasn't 
that shallow, but she had hated maternity underwear with a passion.

Then Will was there and I was holding him.  They checked him out, 
cleaned him up, and handed him to me.  In that moment, holding my son, 
I understood and I believed.  I understood why men would kill to 
protect their children's future.  Just show me what dirty deal to make 
or who to shoot and I was there.  I believed that there was something 
greater than man that had facilitated the growth of two cells into this 
tiny creature.  Flesh of my flesh and blood of my blood. 

'Lizabeth's tired voice asked me, "Is he okay?" 

"He's perfect.  Tiny, but perfect."  I brought him over for her to see.  
She looked at him like she was picking out fruit.  "He's beautiful, 
honey," I told her.

"He is kind of cute.  He'll go good with all that baby stuff we 
bought."  

I breathed a thousand sighs of relief.  "You did a good thing," I told 
her.  

'Lizabeth smiled back at me, "You're a good man, Mulder."   

The nurse interrupted our moment of bliss.  "Time for one more push, 
Mrs. Mulder."

I knew what that meant.  Placenta.  Ugh.  I turned away with my son and 
continued my own euphoria.  'Mrs. Mulder.'  I still looked around for 
my mother when people said that.  'Lizabeth was a good Mrs. Mulder, 
though.  She was steady and dedicated to me and hopefully, to our son.  
It helped that she was beautiful, incredibly nice, and a good lay, too.  
Scully had said that she was good for me, and that was true.  I could 
see the years ahead of us and, for the first time since I found out she 
was pregnant, I wasn't afraid of them.   We may not be perfect 
together, but I couldn't imagine a life without her or my son.  
'Lizabeth had told me something similar the day I met her, but she had 
been talking about another man.  

Then there was a flurry of activity around 'Lizabeth.  Monitors beeped 
and nurses went running for carts and medical-looking things.  I stood 
in the middle of the chaos, not sure what was happening.  One of the 
nurses eventually ushered me, still holding the baby, out of the 
delivery room.  She took him from me and I could only stand and watch 
the doctors work frantically through the observation window.  

I don't really remember much about the next few weeks or so.  I 
remember the doctor telling me she'd had a stroke.  He used a lot of 
medical jargon before he finally said "brain dead."  Brain dead I 
understood.  

I don't remember calling Scully, but I remember her voice pronouncing 
'Lizabeth's time of death after they turned off the ventilator.  3:16 
in the afternoon.  Eight and a half months after I met her.  Age 
thirty.  Five-foot three inches tall.  Eyes blue, hair strawberry 
blonde.  Wears size six shoes.  One hundred and twenty-eight pounds at 
her last check-up before the baby came.  The baby was six pounds even.  
I chanted facts to myself.  Facts made sense.  

I don't remember anything about the funeral except being on the dusty 
floor on top of Todd pounding the hell out of him.  I don't even 
remember what he said or did.  I never really liked that arrogant 
asshole, anyway.  

I remember holding Scully while I cried.  

I remember wandering around my apartment trying to figure out where 
'Lizabeth had hidden my shoes this time.  The dog kept finding them and 
chewing them, so she kept coming up with new hiding places.  If I 
couldn't find them, I was going to have to wake her up and ask, and I 
hated to do that.  So I kept looking.

I remember giving the diaper bag to Scully so she could keep the baby.  
It was okay, 'Lizabeth wouldn't mind.  Scully was a doctor and she was 
good with kids.  I wasn't sure about Skinner and the dog, though.  
There was something wrong with that dog.  Skinner couldn't say that I 
didn't warn him.

I remember being in the shower with Scully's mother.  I thought at 
first it was just an interesting dream.  She was cute, but Jesus, that 
was really sick.  She was wearing clothes, I was not.  She pronounced 
me clean and dragged me out.  She wrapped a towel around me, handed me 
a toothbrush and ordered me to brush.  Not like my usual sex dreams at 
all.  She was holding my razor, though, and that looked like it could 
be interesting.  It wasn't.  Getting dressed wasn't any fun either.  I 
came back to reality when she put me in the car to go to the 
psychiatrist.

When I went to get the dog back from Skinner, I wanted to ask him about 
Scully.  Not how Scully was; I knew that.  I talked to her every day 
for my regular Will update.  I was still hesitant to see him, but I 
wanted to keep up on how he was.  I wanted to know if Skinner had been 
fucking her yet.  Not that I had any cause to object - hell, I even 
told him to take Scully home, once.  It was just idle curiosity. Sure 
it was.  I lost my nerve.  Anyway, the dog had eaten four pairs of his 
shoes and Scully had my gun.  I wasn't going to piss off Skinner even 
further.

I spent the next few months getting my act together.  'Lizabeth had a 
damn good lawyer - I think he was at the funeral.  He was an old 
college buddy of hers and like every other man that knew 'Lizabeth, he 
was half in love with her.  Scully has the same problem, but she 
doesn't know it.  Anyway, he made whatever I told him to happen, 
happen.  I sold 'Lizabeth's townhouse and, although it broke my 
heart, her car.  I set up money to take care of Will in case anything 
would happen to me.  I cleaned her clothes out of my closets and gave 
them to a battered women's shelter.  I boxed up things I thought Will 
might want some day - our wedding bands, the sweater I bought her, the 
picture of our first real kiss, her music, and her journal, unread.  I 
tried to teach that dog some manners.  I wrapped up in the velvet quilt 
I got her and cried while I listened to Etta James sing the blues.  
Except for Will, a trust fund, and a few boxes, it was amazing how fast 
she vanished from my life without a trace.

When I was sure I could handle it, I asked Scully to show me how to 
take care of Will.  I actually had no idea; I had just assumed 
'Lizabeth would show me.  I can't fathom how he survived the first two 
weeks of his life.  Scully held classes each night on feeding, 
changing, bathing, and dressing.  Being my partner, she also had 
insider tips like not to shake him up after you feed him.  Formula good 
in bottle; iced tea bad.  No sunflower seeds.  If I thought he had 
a fever, I was supposed to put the thermometer in the most impolite 
place, or else I could buy an expensive ear thermometer.  Guess what I 
bought on the way home?  That and a blue backpack that was really a 
diaper bag.  I wasn't carrying anything with duckies or bunnies on it.  

I spent more and more time with him every day until I was ready.  
Scully offered to come spend a few days with me, but I told her no.  I 
knew what she was offering, although I didn't know why.  Pity sex?  I 
was having a tough enough time keeping it together without having to 
deal with what I knew would happen if she spent the night with me.  I 
told her that Skinner had taken care of the dog until I could come for 
it, and that she had taken care of my son until I could come for him 
and I was grateful to both of them.  If she wanted to wait, I would 
find for her when I knew I was ready and we would talk then.  I told 
her I would understand if she didn't want to wait, or if she wasn't 
there when I came for her.  Then I picked up Will and left.  It was one 
of the hardest things I've ever done.

I never thought I would love anyone as much as I love Scully, but I 
think Will would be a close call.  I love him and I love being a 
father.  We jog together, we buy groceries together.  We shower and 
sleep together.  We watch the Sci-Fi channel and ESPN together.  He's a 
Nicks fan, too.  He should have come along when I was single - or 
rather, when I was interested in other women besides Scully - my son 
attracts the ladies like a free gift at the Clinique counter.  

I didn't realize how many things I needed to sort out until I started 
unraveling the tangle.  'Lizabeth, obviously.  Major guilt with Scully.  
Her abduction, her cancer, every freak who every shot, touched, or hurt 
her.  My sister, of course.  My father and his contribution to aliens 
invading the planet.  My mother hiding inside her emotional fortress.  
The list went on and on.  Every time I thought I had made my peace, 
something else would float to the surface.  If I was going to raise 
Will alone, I needed to face my own demons.  My son deserved it.  And I 
deserved it.

I used to sit and hold Will and just look at him for hours, thinking of 
all the different paths my life could have taken.  I'd offered to trade 
his life if Scully would stay with me.  'Lizabeth had died so I could 
have him.  My sweet 'Lizabeth that never wanted to hurt anything in her 
life had died having a baby I'd intimidated her into having.  If not 
for Will, I would never have stopped chasing Scully, and 'Lizabeth was 
part of the deal that got me Will.  Now 'Lizabeth was dead and I had my 
son and I could go back to chasing Scully full-time instead of just 
imagining her when I had sex with 'Lizabeth.  It was a big, old-
chewing-gum ball of guilt in my stomach, and watching Will helped me 
sort it out.  He was so perfect - and loving him washed away years of 
my sins.

Once I got accustom to having Will, I started to miss Scully.  I talked 
to her occasionally, at first, to tell her how Will and I were doing.  
I didn't talk about any future between Scully and I because I didn't 
know.  I was taking it one day at a time.  And I had a sneaking 
suspicion she was already with Skinner.  Once she was sure Will and I 
were okay, she stopped calling.  I took that as a sign.  I still missed 
her, though.  

I don't remember when I started loving Scully the way I should have in 
the first place.  When the neon sign came on in my brain flashing "this 
woman and no other."  When Scully stopped being "My Scully" to me and 
became just "Scully,", without my having to stake my territory with 
every breath.  That it dawned on me that love didn't equal ownership, 
or sex, or attraction, or even unconditional like. That love was about 
commitment and acceptance and letting go.  That Scully loved me and I 
had screwed up royally.  Once I realized what it was to love 
unselfishly, it came as natural to me as breathing and I missed Scully 
the way I would miss clean air.  I could live without her, but I was 
not complete.

I started going into the office at night while Scully was away on 
cases.  What I told Skinner was the truth - it made me feel close to 
her.  Skinner gave himself away when he told me how she smelled, but he 
also told me there was no contest between us.  Told me she loved me and 
that she was hurting.  I'd suspected, but I never knew for sure until 
then - about Skinner and her or about how much Scully must have 
suffered.  Wonderful - new guilt.  But whatever had happened 
between them was over.  I couldn't blame Scully - in fact I was glad 
Skinner had been there for her.  He was a good man.  Who was I to 
judge?  I got married to another woman.  That usually limits a man's 
availability to date.  

So I left her the note.

I'm coping.  I'm sorry.  I love you.  

I thought she would come to me, but she didn't.  Again, I took that as 
a sign.  Either she wasn't ready or she wasn't going to.  I hoped she 
just wasn't ready.  I went on with my life.

It took me awhile to figure out who started calling and hanging up on 
my answering machine after that.  Every day at one o'clock while I was 
trying to get Will down for a nap.  The caller ID was always blocked.  
If I left Will and picked up, they hung up immediately.  If I let the 
machine answer, they listened to the entire message and then hung up.  
At first, I freaked out and had the calls traced.  No luck; they were 
from pay phones all over the country, including one outside the FBI 
building, made with phone cards you could buy at any convenience store. 
Someone went to a good deal of trouble to make sure I couldn't call 
them back just so they could hear my voice saying I couldn't come 
to the phone.  

Someone who usually finished her yogurt at one o'clock.  Someone who 
would be traveling around the US alone these days.  Someone who missed 
me and wanted me to know that.  Someone who wasn't ready to talk to me 
yet. 

Will's nap got postponed so I could listen to her listen to me.  Entire 
days got planned around my being able to sit beside my home phone for 
those thirty seconds with a cranky baby on my lap.  As long as I didn't 
pick up, she never missed a day.  The few times I lost control and 
grabbed the phone, she hung up and didn't call for a few days.  So 
every day, right before our nap, Will and I sat beside the phone and 
listened to it ring.  As long as it rang, I knew Scully was out there 
somewhere thinking about me at the same time I was thinking about 
her.  After a few months, Will automatically started getting sleepy 
every time someone called.  His mother would have been proud.

After I thought about it for a while, I added two phrases to my message 
so it ran: "This is Fox Mulder.  I can't come to the phone right now, 
so please leave me a message whenever you're ready.  Take all the time 
you need."

Eventually, I ran out of family leave, vacation leave, and sick leave 
time.  If I wanted to keep my job, I was going to have to go back to 
work.  I didn't have to work; between my father's and 'Lizabeth's 
estate, I could have stayed home and taken care of Will for years.  I 
missed working, though.  And I wanted my son to grow up in a world 
where he wasn't a slave to some alien race. While I was less interested 
in running off to the boonies chasing UFOs than I once was, I still 
wanted to do my part to make sure the correct future happened.  rovided 
I could rid the planet of alien viruses and still make it to pick Will 
up before the sitter charged me overtime.    

**********

Children have a way of interfering in your love life.  I hadn't 
encountered it until now, but I'd hoped I would have the opportunity to 
experience it one day.  Will didn't disappoint.

Daddy's having a destiny-shaping moment, son - do you need me right 
this minute?  Yes, of course you do.  The love of Daddy's life is 
squishing you and you'd like to be put down so you can go torment the 
dog.  

I had to let Scully go long enough to free Will, and then she came back 
to me with an intensity that I'd never felt from her - like someone had 
hit her sexual "on" switch.  I'd always suspected she'd had an "on" 
switch; I just wasn't the one that could flick it.  Someone had found 
it though, and I was enjoying the full intensity. Her hands ran up my 
chest and across and down my shoulders, exploring, caressing, her face 
resting against my neck again.  I could feel her hot breath warming my 
skin, as tempting as the Devil's tongue.  

Don't do this, Scully.  Don't do this if you don't mean it.  

You don't mean it.  You can't mean it.  

Don't tempt me like this.  Will is almost a year old, Scully - you're 
the math geek; you know how long it's been. 
 
Oh, God.

I was aroused on some cosmic level.  This wasn't just any woman, this 
was Scully.  Scully doing what I'd always dreamed she would do - 
wanting me.  Loving me.

At least it looked like Scully.  

Through some superhuman effort I pinned her hands against me before 
they made it below my waist; that self-control no one ever thinks that 
I possess.  "Scully?"  Not very eloquent, but not much blood was 
getting to my brain.  "Miss me, Scully?"  

"I just want to make sure you're real, Mulder.  That you're really 
here."  

"I'm really here, Scully."  If you're just checking my vitals, I don't 
think your tongue is the most effective way to find my carotid pulse, 
woman.   

"You're really coming back?"  Scully looked up at me, her eyes 
pleading, desperate.  Eyes promising me.

Promising soft lips and pale skin against white, tangled sheets.

Not an appropriate thought.  I'd already screwed up her life enough - 
hands off, Mulder.  

She can't really want this.  We've already established that almost two 
years ago and things had only gotten worse since then - a wife, a baby.  
Skinner.

"Of course I'm coming back."  I smiled at her and permitted myself to 
kiss the top of her smooth head.  She was just worried about me.  My 
long-neglected libido was just overreacting... 

...Hell no, I wasn't overreacting.  This woman was coming on to me.  
Dana Scully had never come on to me before, but a few others had - and 
I remembered how it generally went.  

I was busy analyzing what the rules of this new game might be - the 
thought that she might love me and want me sprung up in the rear of my 
brain again and I stamped it back down immediately and forcefully.  
While I was debating and sending separate but equally urgent "down" 
messages to my groin, I wasn't watching Will - I didn't have much 
experience trying to pay attention to a beautiful woman and parenting 
at the same time.  I jumped when I heard a thud and then him crying; my 
son was working on this walking thing, but he was still having lots of 
issues with gravity.  When I picked him up, his crying sounded tired - 
that was my excuse, anyway.  I needed to get away from Scully before I 
reciprocated and pissed her off again.   

Been there before.  Me ready, Scully not ready.  I think I got a kid 
that way.

"I'm gonna take Will home, Scully.  He's tired.  It's okay, Will, we're 
leaving."  I looked around for the dog's leash.  It went without saying 
that the dog did not heel.

"You can't."  

"I can't what, Scully? He's tired and he's getting cranky."  Come on, 
Scully - just let me go. 

"You can't leave me."  She looked upset, her hand reaching out to touch 
me; to keep the physical contact.

"I'll be back at work in two weeks.  It's okay, I'm not going 
anywhere."  I was trying to sooth her while I soothed Will.  What was 
wrong with her?  

"No, you can't ever leave me.  We're a part of each other."  
 
Epiphany.    

For someone who's supposed to be so brilliant, I learn some lessons the 
hard way. 

I was the one who hadn't been ready to commit to her - body, soul, 
mind, put it all on the line, ask for nothing in return, committed.  
That was why she wouldn't settle for anything less.  Scully was waiting 
until I loved her like a man instead of an adolescent kid and she'd 
been getting damn lonely.   		
	
This woman and no other.  My one in five billion, who's "on" switch had 
a childproof latch, keeping her heart safe from little boys.  Even ones 
masquerading as FBI agents.   

But grown-ups were welcome.  Always had been.

I set Will down and handed him a bottle to forestall the inevitable for 
a few minutes.  Just hold off the sleepies for ten minutes, Will.  
Daddy has something he's been meaning to do for almost a decade now.

In front of whatever God is out there, my son, that damn dog, and 
probably a few covert surveillance cameras, I pushed her up against the 
wall and kissed her.  I mean, really I kissed her.  None of this 
pucker-up, peck-on-the-cheek, chaste shit.  I'd spent nine years 
waiting to be free to kiss her - free of my demons, free of her demons, 
free of conspiracies, cancer, aliens, and commitments.  My kiss started 
with her calf draped over the back of my leg, moved upward to my 
hand on her thigh pulling her leg up and over my hip, and included her 
hand in the small of my back pulling my hips against her.  It passed 
through my other hand cupping her breast, our hungry lips, and ended 
with her other hand in my hair.  If she didn't like it, I think she 
could have pressed sexual assault charges.  Fortunately, she liked it.         

Will had never seen anything like this, and didn't know what to make of 
it.  He was tugging on the leg of my jeans as I ravaged Scully, asking 
bewilderedly, "Dada? Dada?"  Freud would have been horrified.  

Fuck Freud.

Son, I love you, but tonight you may need to start learning to sleep in 
your own bed.  

Daddy's will be too full.


**********

End: Against My Ruins (4/5)

Quick Author's Note:  For readers focused on the MSR, you might want to 
stop here.  The next section is Scully's POV two years into the future, 
and, although it clarifies who Elizabeth was, it doesn't end happily.  
The epilogue is Mulder eight years into the future and brings the 
mytharc full circle.