TITLE: MARGARET (1 of 1)

AUTHOR: DAVID HEARNE

CLASSIFICATION: Post-ep for "Wetwired."

RATING: PG

DISTRIBUTION: Granted to anyone.

SPOILERS: Wetwired, Beyond the Sea, Duane Barry, Ascension, One Breath,
Paperclip

Send feedback to ottercrk@sover.net

Website is located at http://members.dencity.com/hearne

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If anything gives me hope about Season 8, it's the reported
return of Margaret Scully. Shelia Larken has always been one of the show's
secret weapons and she's been stowed away in the arsenal too long. That's
why I'm writing this little tale and dedicating it to Ms. Larken. In fact, I
would like to dedicate it to all the actors and actresses playing guest
characters and recurring ones on "The X-Files." Duchovny and Anderson may
comprise the cornerstone, but Larken, Hardin, Williams, Davis (both William
B. and Don), Harwood, Haglund, Braidwood, Pileggi and Lea along with Dourif,
Harris, Westerman, Cartwright, Kreivins, Weitz, Pounder, Boyle, Wilson and
Noonan all grace the architecture.

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This must be what it's like to be a Kennedy.

I'm not sure if that's a joke or not.

Like a lot of Americans, I've wondered if a curse has been placed on the
Kennedy family. Did some force decide that their achievements and wealth had
to be balanced by scandal, tragedy and death? What was it like for Rose
Kennedy to bury two sons within the space of a few years?

I have come close to knowing that answer myself.

Bill's loss was hard to take, but it wasn't completely unexpected. The risk
of heart failure grows with each day, even in a healthy man. As Dana could
tell you, the very fact that nature could create anything autonomous and
life-sustaining is a miracle. It's another miracle for this organ to keep
working moment by moment. I press a hand against my chest and wonder, "Why
don't you just stop? Why makes you more durable than engines and gears?"

I didn't think these things when my husband died. My obsessed thoughts of
death started in a hospital room. As I listened to the sound of my
daughter's mechanized breathing, I wondered who this woman really was. It
couldn't have been my Dana. She had been so strong, so independent, so full
of life and passion. Others might think that description might apply better
to my other daughter. I know better. Melissa was just more sure of herself.
It gave her a carefree air that could make Dana seem introverted and shy.
Dana, however, was just more subdued in her feelings. In her youth, choosing
what she wanted was more difficult for her than Melissa. Bill and I may have
added to her confusion more than we...

Why am I talking about this? Does any of it matter?

It certainly didn't seem to matter as Dana laid pale and unmoving on that
hospital bed. I looked at the daughter who had been lost and now returned,
but only with the faintest remnants of life. Even before the doctor revealed
the instructions of her living will, I suspected that she would never accept
an existence like this.

The family abided by her decision. We readied ourselves to let her go. God
decided that it was not her time, though. He did not give up on her, even
though everyone else did.

No. One person didn't.

When I first met Mulder, he had blood on his hands. It was not blood he had
shed, but he felt the guilt of the crime. He blamed himself for Dana's
disappearance. At first, I was tempted to blame him as well. She was your
partner, I thought. She was your friend. Where were you when she was being
taken away? Where were you when my daughter disappeared off the face of the
earth?

Anytime I started to hate him, though, I looked at the pain in his eyes. Why
damn a man who has already damned himself? Why hate a person who would
sacrifice himself for your daughter?

Melissa agreed with me, but said, "He is still a confused man. He has so
much darkness inside of him. It will be a long time before he dispels it."

"Are you saying he's dangerous to Dana?"

Melissa smiled. "Mom...Dana has her own darkness, too."

I couldn't quite understand what she meant. I had grown accustomed to
ignoring some of the vague things Melissa would say. Her words were also
among the least confusing things about Dana's near-death. Who did this to
her? Why?

I've heard the stories and the rumors. Mulder talks of government
conspiracies and aliens. Scully gives more credence to the former than the
latter. It's hard to comprehend any of it. *My* government tried to kill my
daughter? The government that my husband served? The government that most of
my children serve as well?

It's hard for me to accept this. Maybe I don't have the strength to do so.
All I know is that someone tried to hurt my baby girl.

Then they tried to kill her. They killed my other daughter instead.

I used to wonder if God's protection of one daughter meant that the other
had to be sacrificed. I dismissed these thoughts. There is no "balance." God
is not a loan shark who collects debts.

Neither of these thoughts made it easy to stand over Melissa's grave. I
don't know what could have made it easier for Dana. The look on her face
wrote her thoughts in large, black letters. "She died for me. She took a
bullet meant for me."

That's how I knew it wasn't over for the Scullys. One dead father and one
dead daughter and another daughter who had risked death were not enough.
This road was not over yet. What remained to be seen is what form tragedy
would take next.

Again, it was Dana who was damaged. This time, the threat was not to her
health, but to her sanity.

When she showed up on my doorstep, she disconcerted me as much as when she
was in a coma. The look in her face was not one I had ever expected to see.
When others compliment Dana, they use words like "stable," "level" and
"forthright." They may not be able to see her passion, but her discipline is
obvious to everyone.

What would these people think now if they had seen her frightened, wild
eyes -- the eyes of a trapped animal?

She passed me the moment I opened the door.

"Dana, what is..."

She waved a hand at me as an order for silence. In her other hand, she held
a gun. She began checking all the locks and sneaking peeks through the
windows. I tried to stay quiet as long as I could. When I could take it no
more, I said --

"What's wrong?"

She spun towards me. For a moment, she didn't seem to recognize me and I
thought about her gun.

Then she said with rushed breath, "I have to stay here. I'm in danger."

"From whom?"

Her lips tightened. The skin around her neck trembled.

I took a careful step towards her. "Dana, what is it?"

"Mulder..." she whispered.

"Mulder? Has something happened to him?"

She let out a brief, harsh laugh. "No, mom. Mulder is fine. He's in the best
of hands."

"Then what..."

She jumped towards me so quickly that I would have backed up if she hadn't
grabbed me by the arm. "Mom, do exactly as I say. Don't answer the phone.
Don't let anybody in the house. Understand?"

I tried to speak, but couldn't.

"Understand?"

"Yes, Dana."

She nodded, then her body sagged.

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

"I need...I need to think. I need to plan...what I'm..." Her voice trailed
away.

"And...what if Mulder shows up?"

Her hand clenched around my arm and she stared at me. "Mulder is the one I'm
hiding from," she said.

What could I do? Not understanding what was going on, I did as Dana
commanded. I ignored the ringing phone. I couldn't believe what she was
telling me, though. If my son Bill had been there, he might have believed
her. He has developed his own image of Mulder from second-hand sources. He
blames him for what happened to Dana and Melissa. Like I said, I've been
tempted to blame Mulder as well. I knew better, though.

I also knew that he would come to the house. I also knew that he would come
alone. He wouldn't risk hurting Dana by bringing in a team of agents, even
though regulations and common sense required it.

When he did come, I tried to ignore his knocking at the door. Then I tried
bluffing him, but I'm no better at lying than Dana is. The truth wouldn't
have helped, either. How could I have told him that my daughter had been
spending many hours in a dark room of my house while mumbling about
television and cigarettes?

He forced his way in. I hated him for a moment. "What have you done to my
daughter's life?" I wanted to scream. "What is so important that my children
have to pay with their blood and their minds?"

All that was forgotten when Dana stepped out of the shadows and pointed her
gun at Mulder. He looked at her with fear, but for her and not for himself.
I knew whose side I had to be on then.

He tried to reason with her. He said that she was "sick." He mentioned other
people who had killed for the same reason she was pointing a gun at him now.
Once again, I had no idea what he was talking about, but I could sense the
truth in what he was saying. The proof was in my daughter's panicked eyes.

Dana was having none of it, though. "From the beginning, you never trusted
me," she spat at him.

"Scully, you're the only one I do trust."

"No. You're one of them. You had me abducted, you put that thing in my neck,
YOU KILLED MY SISTER!"

She was losing control. One way or another, that gun was going to fire. I
realized that if Mulder was willing to sacrifice himself for Dana, I had to
be willing to do the same for him.

I stepped between him and the gun. "Mom, get out of the way!" Dana yelled. I
could feel Mulder bristle behind me. I hoped that he wouldn't try to push me
aside.

He didn't. He knew that any sudden movement on his part would set Dana off.

It was just me and her then. "You know that I would never hurt you," I said.
"That's why you came here, isn't it? Because you're safe here."

This was a truth she couldn't deny. Her gun wavered. Doubt fought against
the rage in her expression.

"Put the gun down, Dana," I said, then took one step forward.

The gun didn't fire. I took another step, getting closer to my daughter. As
the space between us vanished, she pointed the gun towards the ceiling. Her
anger weakened as I put my arms around her.

I can't remember the last time Dana ever cried so hard in my arms. She had
shed tears at the funerals, but it had been a long time since I had to hold
her as she wept uncontrollably.

Wait. I do remember now.

The snake. The snake she had killed. As then, she was mourning for what she
had done. Or what she had almost done, in this case.

Mulder called the Georgetown Medical Center. The paramedics came, sedated
Dana and took her away.

I watched the ambulance drive off, then heard Mulder walk up to me. I turned
to him. He looked so young all of a sudden. Not young in terms of
exuberance, but young in terms of shame. He looked like a five-year-old boy
who had broken a vase.

"She'll be fine," Mulder said, knowing how weak it sounded.

I nodded, then said, "What happened here, Fox?"

He sighed. "I'm not sure how to describe it. All I can say is that Scully
was...hypnotized. She had received a kind of suggestion that...well, a
fantasy took over her perception."

"She thought that you were the enemy."

He looked away. "Sometimes I think I am."

I reached over and held his hand. He turned back to me in surprise.

"That is one thing you'll never be," I told him.

He squeezed my hand in return. I found myself thinking about him and not my
poor daughter. I knew about Mulder's own losses. Was there anybody else
besides Dana that he could turn to in his dark moments?

"Mrs. Scully," he said. "I want you to promise me something."

"Yes?"

"Never do anything like that again. Never put yourself in danger like that."

I was quiet for a moment, taken back by his firm voice. "It was the only
way, Fox..."

"I know. But if anything should happen to you..."

He left it there. So did I.

The next morning, I went to the medical center. Scully greeted me from her
hospital bed with a painful look.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Physically, I'm fine. But..." She sighed and closed her eyes.

I held her limp hand. "It's all right, Dana. I understand."

"Do you?"

"I may not understand how you got into that state. But I know it wasn't your
fault."

She said nothing for a few seconds, then said, "Does Mulder think the same
thing?"

"Of course he does."

Her eyes opened to reveal even more pain. "Mom, I..." She stopped herself.

"What is it?"

Once again, my daughter was considering her words, unsure of how to explain
her world to me. She finally said, "I can't count the number of times Mulder
and I have...gone into situations that would tear two people apart."

"I notice you two are still together, though."

"But how much more can we take, mom? What if one of us crosses that line..."

"Dana, listen to me very carefully. You don't know what tomorrow will bring.
You only know who you are at this moment and who Fox is. Has he given you
any indication that he will leave you because of this?"

She wiped a tear streaking down her cheek and shook her head.

"Hold onto that."

"I will, Mom." Then she looked at me. I could see the true Dana returning --
firm and a little bossy. "If there's a situation like this again, never..."

"Fox has already given me the talk, sweetie."

She paused, then whispered, "Mulder, not Fox."

I nodded.

That's when Mulder walked in. He raised his hands in a mock act of
surrender. For him, a dumb joke is a way of telling you everything is all
right.

I smiled at him, then left him and Dana so they could discuss their strange
world.

I'm a spectator to my daughter's life, not a participant. It's a frustrating
role in any situation. However, it's one that parents have to accept. If
trust is the key issue between Fox and Dana, then it's what I have to learn
as well.

Then, again, I don't know what the future will bring, either. Maybe I will
become more deeply involved in the mysteries overwhelming my daughter's
life. Maybe I will be called upon to make my own sacrifice.

I told Fox and Dana that I would never repeat my actions of that night.

Perhaps I'm not such a bad liar after all.

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