Title: Blue Highway 1/1
Author: Jori Remington
E-mail: damienma@bellsouth.net
Rating: PG
Category: SA
Disclaimer: Not mine. Nothing is really mine. They belong to 1013, FOX
and CC.
Spoilers: Requiem, of course
Archive. Yes. Spooky Award people, you link to this at
http://netroenterprises.com/stories/hphighway.html
Summary: Post Requiem, Scully has to tell her mother the big news.
Author's Notes: Well, Mrs. Scully has to return sometime, doesn't she?
I think someone commented that she would be making a big fan fic
showing all summer and since I've beaten the baby fic horse to near
death, now I can start doing Grandmother fic. And I'm just kidding.
Everything I write is a huge cliche right down to this, so enjoy. Have
a laugh. Do whatever.
Blue Highway is a font that can be found at www.fontfreak.com
All my other stories can be found at:
http://netroenterprises.com/stories/
*****************
I rush down the hospital corridor looking for Dana's room in a near
panic. Fox didn't call me this time with the news. Instead, the man I
know to be their boss called and I know there's more wrong than he
would relay to me on the phone. I thought Fox was the bearer of all
bad news. It seems Walter Skinner has no better fate.
Mr. Skinner is standing outside of her room, his arms crossed tight
over his chest, and his eyes meet mine for the briefest moment before
he looks back down at his shoes. He's been crying. This big man who's
probably seen more death than I can imagine has tear stained cheeks
and red-rimmed eyes.
"Oh my God. No," I say, and I feel my knees begin to go out from under
me. He reaches for my arm, offering whatever support he can and I feel
the world begin to go away. If it weren't for the sudden urge to vomit
keeping me aware, I would be out cold on the floor.
"Agent Scully is fine, Mrs. Scully," he says, and I fight to catch my
breath. The tears are now flowing down my cheeks and I can't control
them. For some reason, he's crying too, but he's doing a better time
of covering it up. "Dana is fine."
"Fox?" I ask, and he bites his lip and looks back to the floor,
kicking at some imaginary speck on the tile.
"You need to talk to your daughter, Mrs. Scully. And she needs to talk
to you," he says, letting go of my arm. He goes ahead of me and knocks
gently on Dana's door before opening it for me.
"Thank you for calling, Mr. Skinner," I say as I walk by him.
"Let me know if she needs anything," he says, sounding so guilty about
something that it hurts even me to listen.
"I will," I reply, my attention drawn to my little girl sleeping with
a blue blanket pulled up to her chin. She looks so peaceful and I'm
afraid of what demons I might be waking simply by disturbing her. I
stand at her bedside and brush a strand of hair off of her face before
resting my hand on her cheek. She feels warm and looks so tired. She's
been crying, too. Only much harder.
"M-Mulder?" she asks, putting her hand up to mine. And for the
millionth time in my life, my heart breaks because of some pain my
child is feeling. Just with touching my hand, her dreams end and her
face pinches up into something so sad I have to look away.
"No, sweetie. It's Mom," I say and her eyes flicker open briefly,
struggling to focus on me. "Shh... just rest."
"Oh, Mom," she says, her voice cracking with all the built up sadness.
"Tell me what happened to Fox, Dana," I say softly as I sit on the
edge of her bed. "Tell me everything."
She doesn't say anything right away, but instead chews on her bottom
lip for a few moments while she gathers her thoughts. Her blue eyes
open and meet my eyes.
"He's gone," she says, and I release the breath I didn't realize I had
been holding.
"Gone?" I have to ask. With these two, when they say gone, one never
knows exactly what that means.
"Missing, Mom. He and A.D. Skinner were in Oregon investigation . . .
something . . . and he's gone," she says. She pulls a hand out of
under the blanket and wipes away a tear. From the way her eyes look,
it isn't the first she's shed. And I'm positive it won't be the last.
"But they are going to find him, right? He found you, someone has to
be able to find him. Dana, right?" I ask, wiping away a tear as it
slides down her cheek.
"I can only hope."
She looks away from me and sighs. Her eyes go everywhere but back to
my face. There's more. Something she's not telling me. Something big.
"Dana, what is it?" I ask and help her as she moves to sit up. I slide
off the bed and prop her pillows up, giving her a moment to collect
her thoughts.
"Mom, no one can know this. Not Bill. Not Charlie. I told Skinner
because I felt I had to, but no one else can know," she says, and I
sit back down next to her. taking her hands in mine.
"Dana, honey, whatever it is, you can tell me," I say, watching her
eyes flicker to mine and then away again.
"I d-don't know how . . . I mean, I know, but I don't and I'm still
trying to figure it all out myself and I'm so unsure . . ." she
starts, but falls silent before she finishes.
"It's okay. Just say the words," I tell her, my heart beating fast,
hoping beyond all hope what she's really trying to tell me is what I
hope she's trying to say.
"I'm . . . Mom, I'm pregnant," Dana says and we both swallow hard at
he same time. I tip her chin so she's looking at me again. My little
girl who was never supposed to have this does and yet, it can't be
happy. Nothing in her life can be happy. She's telling me the most
fantastic news in the world and the tears are streaming down her face.
Damn whoever has done this to her life.
"Is it Fox's?" I ask, putting my hand on her still flat belly. This
all happened in the last few months and she never told me. Or maybe it
has been going on for years and I just didn't notice.
"I hope it is," she says, and I look at her, puzzled. Like it could
get more puzzling.
"I'm assuming when you say that, you don't mean you've all of a sudden
taken up to running around with a myriad of men but that you don't
know what they might have done to you," I say, trying to smile for
her.
"He's the only one I know of, Mom. He's . . . he's everything," she
says, her voice rising in pitch with sadness. The tears begin to flow
freely now and neither of us can do anything to stop them.
I pull her into my arms, holding her so tight. I don't need to know
the details. I could care less about the details at this point. All I
need to know is if she's all right. I rock her gently as her body
shakes with sobs and she clutches at my shirt, desperate for something
to hold on to.
"He wouldn't let me go. He was afraid they would take me, so he
wouldn't let me go. If I were there, I would have stopped it. I know I
could have. Oh, Mom. I want him back so badly," she says, fighting to
catch her breath between words.
"He's got to come back now, Dana. There is no other option," I say,
holding her tight, willing her to believe the words I'm saying. How
many times has she cried in my arms and I wished I could give her my
heart. If I could take her pain, I would. If my heart could be as
broken as hers, I would let it. One of the hardest things a mother has
to learn is that she can't erase the pain, only help ease it.
"Mom?" she says, her tears starting to quiet down.
"Yes, sweetie?" I say, still holding her as tight as I can. It is
slowly beginning to settle in. My little girl is going to have a baby.
Her own baby. Something none of us ever dreamed would happen. That
should be enough to make us happy, but it won't be. Not until Fox is
home.
"I want to go back to Oregon, to where it happened. . ."
"I don't know," I say, backing away from her. I don't want her to
vanish, too. I wouldn't be able to live with myself.
"I have to go, Mom. I want you to come with me," she says, wiping her
eyes with the back of her hand.
"Are you sure it will be safe?" I ask, not willing to risk losing her
now.
"Hundreds of people have combed those woods and nothing happened to
them. Whatever was there is gone, Mom. Including Mulder," she says,
shutting her eyes. I know what images she sees behind those lids and
I'm sure she wishes she could sleep so she could have him back in
dreams.
"Okay," I say, willing to do anything for her in the end. I would even
trade places with Fox right now if it meant her happiness.
She sighs softly as she lies her head back down on the pillows. "Do
they ever go away? These images in my mind every time I close my
eyes?"
"Do you want them to?" I ask, brushing damp strands of hair off her
face.
"No."
"Then they don't have to go away," I say, clasping her hand in mine
and holding it tight.
****************
Bellefleur, Oregon
The sun is starting to set as we drive down a long, empty highway.
Dana seems to know where she's going and she is determined to get
there before dark. Right now, everything glows in pinks and blues,
reminding me of so many things. We talk about it and I know more of
the details now, but she still won't open up about her fears. I know
they are there, hidden right beneath the surface and ready to bubble
up at any time. I'll give her time. I always do.
Dana has always been able to take care of herself but right now I'm
not sure she wants to. This partnership I watched teeter on the edge
of something more for years finally turned into a relationship and she
lost him, now, when she needs him the most.
Now, when she's ready to admit she needs him, more importantly.
"I think this is it," she says, pulling the car to the side of the
road. Every bit of vegetation on the roadside has been trampled down
but as soon as she steps out of the car, Dana searches for something
on the pavement anyway.
"What is it?" I ask, standing over an orange X obviously painted years
ago.
"It is something from seven years ago," she says, tracing her foot
over the intersecting lines. "Something so old I didn't even know him
them."
It is worn and I'm amazed it hasn't been paved over. This back road
must not be used often enough to warrant it. Dana rubs the back of her
neck and sighs.
"Are you okay?" I ask, reaching out to rest my hand on her cheek. She
smiles at my touch, but the joy I wish would radiate to her eyes never
quite makes it.
"I'm fine. We better get going," she says, her eyes scanning the
woods.
"Are you sure you want me to go with?" I ask, holding on to her hand.
I know about grief. I know about the need to be alone sometimes in
order to sort out what hopes and dreams are allowed to remain and
which need to be put to rest. She needs to start sorting out what may
never be, but I can't be the one to tell her these things. It will
have to come with time. Right now, too much hope remains with us all.
"Yes, Mom. I need you now," she says, pulling me towards the woods.
We walk silently, the sun setting more with each step we take. Soon, a
canopy of stars will be covering us above the trees and Dana keeps
looking up towards them. I know what she's hoping for. I'm hoping for
it, too.
She pulls out a flashlight from the pocket of her jacket and shines it
toward an area that has been trampled over and combed through. She
pulls a yellow strip of crime scene tape that has been left behind off
a tree and looks at it, turning it over and over in her hand.
"What did he do while I was gone?" Dana asks, shining her flashlight
at me. "Did he search for me? Go to where I disappeared from?"
"I think so. I don't really know what he did. I kept him informed and
he was there for all the major decisions, but all I really know is he
hurt. A lot. He wore your cross on a chain. . ."
"He has my cross now," she says, reaching up to her neck. She lets out
a sigh as she feels her collar, missing the piece of jewelry that
should be there. Her fears are beginning to surface now. Did he do
more for her than she's doing for him? Is there something she's
missing that he never would miss? I know all the demons that must
float through her thoughts a thousand times a day.
"Then he is safe, now, isn't he," I say, trying to reassure her as I
lead her by the elbow toward the center of whatever happened here.
"I need to sit down," Dana says, stopping suddenly.
"Are you okay?" I ask as she settles herself down on an old log. She
leans forward, resting her head on her hands and I squat down in front
of her, me knees cracking as I go.
"I'll be fine," she says when she looks back up at me.
"I knew this was going to be a bad idea," I say, not knowing why I
went along with this. Then she looks at me with those eyes that have
been that blue since she was six months old and I know why. She's my
only remaining daughter and she's hurting.
"I had to come here, Mom. I needed to see it for myself. I saw the
crime scene photos and read all the reports, but this makes it real,"
she says. She tilts her head up and stares at the first star of the
night.
"Making a wish?" I ask, sitting down next to her.
"That's all I do. Wish and pray and beg God that He lets me have him
back and I'm afraid He's not listening. He gave me one thing I always
wanted and took the other," she says, and I pull her towards me,
hugging her tight.
"Unfortunately, God does work that way and you know it. But God also
doesn't mind that you're mad at Him right now because He knows you are
hurting, Dana," I tell her, listening to her cry again.
"What if there is no such thing as God?" she asks and I suppose she's
expecting me to be shocked. I'm not. Nothing can shock me anymore.
"I asked the very same thing after Melissa died. But I know there is a
God because you are alive. And when you hold that baby of yours in a
few months, you'll know that God still exists, no matter how much you
hurt right now," I tell her, stroking her hair. She hasn't felt like
blow drying it straight the last few days and the night air just adds
to the curl. She's so beautiful and always has been. None of this
should be happening to her. No one asks for this life.
But she never left it willingly.
"Do you love him so much that all the losses were worth it?" I ask
her, moving across a line more personal than I've dared to cross
before. I know this baby was conceived by complete accident between
two people who didn't think they had any chance of having a child so
never considered the what ifs. Beyond that, she hasn't told me more
than she feels necessary.
"Yes, I love him that much. So much that I've wished upon every star
for his return and I don't even believe in wishing upon stars," she
says, looking up again. More stars now dot the deepening blue sky.
"Maybe you should start believing in the power of a wish. I wished for
you to come back," I tell her.
"You prayed, Mom. Not wished."
"No, Dana. I did both."
************************
We share a motel room. It was the last place they stayed together
while they were here a few days ago. She told me so. I asked if she
wanted to find a different hotel and she laughed as she informed me
the only other one in town burned down seven years ago because they
were staying there.
There is so much about her life I don't know. So many parts of it that
belong to him and not to me. I owned the first part, but he owns the
last seven years. He occupies every inch of her heart right now. She
just doesn't know that so many parts will be occupied by someone else
so very soon.
"Stay with me," she whispered as I went to get rooms and that is why
we she is in my arms now. One room is all we need. I hold her tight
and listen to her cry herself to sleep. Finally she is silent as the
dreams take over. I know what she is dreaming. She doesn't need to
tell me.
I listen to her slow, even breathing and remember when I used to
tiptoe into her room in the darkness when she was a baby just to make
sure she was still alive. I'd stand there and wait for her to move.
Bill would yell at me, telling me that this was my third baby and I
should know that she wasn't just going to up and die on me. I never
trusted him. As a father, what did he know about babies not breathing
in the middle of the night?
Dana sighs so softly and puts her arm up over her eyes, holding in
whatever image might be trapped there.
This baby needs a father, too. Even if he will tell her she's insane
for believing in all those mother things. I think this baby's father
has had his share of insanity and should be here to see exactly how
crazy Dana will get. It would only be fair.
He needs to be here anyway.
Tomorrow, I have to let her go to find him. I have to stop worrying
and trust her to do the right thing. To know that the world is now
bigger than just her or Fox but it includes someone else, too. She
wants to find him for their child.
I have to let her find the path he went down and tell her to follow it
until she can pull him back home. I have to. For her sake.
I'm her mother. I would do anything to take away the pain. I will even
let her go to places unknown to search for what makes her whole.
I touch her face and she sighs again. At least she doesn't reach out
in the night and instead of finding him, find me. I don't think I can
take that heartbreak now.
"Dana, I'm here," I whisper to her and she smiles in her sleep. "I'll
always be waiting for you no matter where you have to go in life."
"I know, Mom. I know," she says before silently falling off to sleep
again.
****************
The End
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