Title: The Blessing

Author: Beth Heier

Rating: PG

Archive: You can have it if you want it, but please let me know.

Feedback: Bether6074@aol.com

Spoilers: Ascension/One Breath, Emily, Momento Mori, Samantha, Wetwired

Classification: I'd have to say MSR, but a spiritual MSR

Keywords: Angst, Mrs. Scully, Cross

Disclaimer: Everything X belongs to Fox and 1013 Productions. No infringement
intended.

Summary: Scully's Mom gives a unique perspective on her vision of the
Mulder/Scully relationship following a character's serious injury.

Author's Notes: This is something I always envisioned. I think Mrs. Scully is a
very intelligent woman with a keen sense of the M/S bond. I don't know about
everyone else, but I miss her. Please send feedback. I don't mind what type it
is- positive or negative. I love it all! Thanks.



    Our children are a vision of hope, the birth of a dream we've yet to
discover. A dream which we live in fantasy, as an aspiration of the future,
without pain or sorrow for those we intend to protect. But, there is no
isolation from the ills of life, no walls to keep out it's inevitable
tribulations. Yet, only when the walls come crashing down, can we truly feel
the joy of vulnerability and the wonder of life. My daughter, Dana, came to
realize this and felt it for the first time just yesterday.


   I was clearing away some dirty dishes, placing them in a sink full of hot
and soapy water, when I heard a faint tapping at the door. Peering
inquisitively through the peephole, I saw my daughter, standing quietly on the
step. I hadn't seen her in weeks, hadn't talked to her in days. There was no
phone call to tell of her impending visit. My heart sank immediately and yet,
at first glance, she appeared fine.

    The sun was beginning to descend , dropping slowly behind the distant hill.
I took in a deep breath of air, preparing myself, just in case, for the worst.
Dana was motionless, as if transfixed, buried in her own silent agony.

   "Dana? Dana, is everything all right? Come on in." She gazed back at me,
looked directly into my eyes, yet seemed to disappear before me, there in
physical presence, gone from emotional stability. An obvious pain seared into
her face, tore at her soul and sagged her spirit. 

   "Dana. Dana. What is it? You're not sick or hurt are you?" She shook her
head no, a brief motion from her nearly helpless form. Then I realized when I'd
seen her suffer like this before. My poor Dana. 

   "Is it Agent Mulder, Dana? Has something happened to him? Is he hurt, Dana?"
She landed softly in my arms, no strength left to hold her standing. I
struggled over to the living room couch, my daughter wrapped lifelessly around
my aging body, and found the comfort of the cushions with a quick plunge.

   "He...he was trying to save me." Her pain was so penetrating, and she was so
spent, she didn't even have the energy to cry.

   "Oh, no, Dana. Was he hurt badly?" It was a question I asked, fearing I
already knew the answer.

   "Mom...He's on life support. I don't know if he's...he may not...he may not
make it."

   "Oh, Dana, I'm so sorry. He's a strong man. He'll fight." The tears had
begun streaming down her cheek and suddenly her face was submerged in their
salty wetness. My heart instinctively ached for her, my baby girl. She didn't
weep often and yet, every time I witnessed it, it tore me apart.

   I really liked Fox Mulder. Sure, he's a bit off beat, eccentric even, but he
seems to be a man of strong convictions and emotions. We somehow had a bond,
one which we first shared when Dana was abducted. Together, we felt intense
pain and together we held out, in a helpless, impossible hope. Anyone who could
love my daughter the way he did...I had never discussed it with her, but she
had to know.  It was always so obvious. It never occurred to me to interfere
with something that seemed so rare and lovely.

   "Dana? Dana? Have you ever told Fox? I mean, you know he loves you, don't
you?"

   "Mom, don't be ridiculous. He never had the time to...Well, he is a close
friend. If he loves me, he loves me as a friend. Why would you say that?"

   I was shocked. She didn't know. He'd never told her and she'd never seen it.
But I had, so clearly and so often. That day on the park bench, when he tried
to give me her cross. The scene at the hospital. His screams, his yelling, his
anger, a rage for answers and a silent begging for her recovery. The day she
pulled a gun on him, fearing he had betrayed her. Fox was so unafraid she would
hurt him, and more afraid she wouldn't believe in him. At the hospital, with
Dana's cancer scare...During the loss of Emily...I could go on and on. The
signs were there and yet ,still, she didn't know...

   "Fox Mulder loves you, Dana. Not just as a friend. As a friend and as a
WOMAN."

   "Mom, no. Don't do this. Don't do this now. Please."

   "You weren't there, Dana, when he found out you'd been abducted. You weren't
there when he first laid eyes on you after you were returned. I was..."

   "Mom..."

   "The man went berserk, Dana. He completely flipped out. He accused everyone
of conspiring to hurt you, turned over medical trays, screamed to the point his
voice cracked, said he wouldn't rest until he knew who hurt you, said he'd do
anything to find out...A pained man, Dana, a desperate man. I saw that, Dana,
and there's no denying what it meant. There's no question in my mind. Fox
Mulder loves you. He always has. If you can't see that..."

   "Oh, God."

   "I'm sorry to tell you like this, but you say he's very ill. Maybe you
should tell him how you feel. You may regret it if you don't."

   "Can you take me, Mom? Could you come with me? Oh, mom..."

   "Of course, Dana. I'd like to see him too. You say he saved you? He got hurt
saving you?"

   "Yes...He pushed me out of the way and took a bullet just below the chest, a
bullet meant for me. He lost a lot of blood..."

   "And you doubted me?" Dana grimaced and wept softly on my shoulder. I had to
tell her. She needed to hear it out loud to truly believe it. We lay there,
crumpled on the dampened couch, until the light outside diminished into solemn
blackness.



   Later that evening, we rode together to the hospital. A nurse led us quietly
up to the room of Fox Mulder. It is something I'll never forget, the look on
Dana's face, the hopeless, empty expression she wore painfully at the sight of
the man she loved. Around her neck, the chain rocked gently from side to side,
it's simple beauty radiating in a glimmering, golden hue. Dana touched it
lightly and caressed the cross, praying her faith would somehow help her find
the strength to endure. The machine sounded over and over again loudly,
harshly, echoing a cruel reminder of the life which hung so delicately in it's
balance. Agent Mulder lay on the bed, his right arm the only part of his body
not tangled with tubes, bandages, monitors. Dana stood above him, over him, her
fingers tightly clasped around his limp, unresponsive hand. I felt almost an
intruder, witnessing my daughter's closeness with him. I was standing there,
right beside her, yet nowhere near the world she was clearly visiting.

   "Mulder? Mulder, we need to talk. We need to talk, OK?" Dana brushed a hand
softly onto his face, painting his skin with her delicate fingertips. Her voice
cracked with the words, barely above a whisper.

   "There's something I have to tell you, Mulder. There's something you need to
know."

   "Dana? Do you want me to leave? Would you like some privacy?"

   "It's OK, Mom. I'll tell you if I do, OK?" I nodded and retreated further to
the empty corner of the room, my heart aching for my daughter. She gazed
meaningfully at him, her eyes fixed onto his closed and heavily taped lids,
where she should have seen him.

   "You've got to fight, Mulder. You've got to fight. Please...keep fighting.
It's not your time. It can't be. We still have too much to do. We have to find
your sister. We have to find Samantha, Mulder. I can't do this alone. I can't
do this without you..." Her words faded off as she began to weep quietly. The
tears descended hastily upon her cheek, landing repeatedly onto Mulder's
forehead, in a steady, rhythmic dripping. The cross hung silently from her
neck, inches away from his face as she leaned over him. It lowered slowly with
her movement and grazed the skin of his neck as she gently pressed her lips to
his cheek.

    "I need you...Please. Don't give up. Mulder, I know you have the strength.
You have the will. Fight. Fight. I'm going to stay here with you.
Please...Don't leave me..." The words spoken softly in his ear, there was a
sudden, sharp jolt of activity from the monitor just above the bed. Dana
gulped, choking on the persistent flow of fluid that now flooded her airway,
then continued, "You can hear me..." She lifted a hand to the back of her neck
and calmly unfastened the hook that bound her faith to her soul. She held it
gently in the palm of her hand, briefly unable to move, as if  humbled, almost
seduced, by it's power and glory. Her fingers clasped the cross, as the chain
dangled freely below the crucifix. For a moment, she seemed dazed, unsure of
her own intentions. She found me at the back of the room momentarily, then
twisted her head quickly to the bed, seizing her eyes on the face of her
friend.

   "Mulder, I know you never truly believed in what this means. You have
doubted God's existence. But, I know, you don't doubt me and you don't doubt
what I hold close in my heart. You once told me that you had the strength of my
beliefs...Let me see that strength. Let me feel it now.  I...I want you to have
this...Believe in me...You're going to be all right. I know it." Her fingers
moved gently behind his neck and slowly lifted his head just enough to slip the
chain underneath. She clasped it beneath his chin, then slid the cross to the
front, where it lay to rest just below the soft beating of his carotid artery.
She smiled and turned to me.

   "He's going to make it, Mom." A confident declaration. I came to see,
beneath the dim phosphorescence, that her tears had now dried, as her face
brightened with hope and love. I remained at a comfortable distance, allowing
the two the chance to share in the inspirational promise my daughter had just
pledged to him. And, somehow, I knew she was right.
   .

   " I know, Dana. I told you, he's a fighter."

   She nodded, concurring with my words, then returned her gaze to her partner.
I shuffled my feet lightly upon the floor panels, watching the two as I walked
quietly toward the room's exit. I turned as the door squeaked shut, and peered
one last time through the glass entrance. Dana was sitting on the bed, her
hands gently covering his, her gaze penetrating the tape that coldly cloaked
his eyes. The crucifix lay against his neck, in shimmering resplendence, a
golden ray of hope and destiny for the man blessed by it's sanctity. The
destiny for a man blessed by love.



                                                                          
                                                             The End