Title: Family
Author: Susan
E-mail: touchstone98@tx.rr.com
Classification: vignette
Spoiler: takes place after the events of Sein und
Zeit and Closure, brief mention of Chinga
Archive: No archive without permission.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to each other,
not me.

Summary: There was still a part of him that wanted
to keep holding onto what was left.
******************************************************

Family
by Susan 
~~~~

Mulder sat in the living room on the couch, his 
body motionless, his hands folded in his lap.

He knew that at some point he should get up and 
start the job he came here to do, but even though
he'd already been here for an hour, he wasn't sure 
if he could.

Or if he even wanted to.

It'd been two weeks since his mother had died and 
since he'd accepted Samantha's death, and he knew 
it was time to finally put the past behind him and 
move on with his life. 

And yet there was still a part of him that wanted 
to keep holding onto what was left.

Sure, all the things in this house were only 
material possessions, but still they were a part 
of his family.

And consequently, a part of him.

The brass antique lamp his father had outbid 
everyone for at an auction twenty years ago. The
striped afghan his mother had knitted hanging over
the back of the couch. The handcrafted maple end
table his grandfather had given them for Christmas 
one year.

And of course, the photographs.

Making himself get up off the couch, he walked 
over to the desk near the doorway, opened the 
bottom drawer and looked down at the stack of 
photo albums inside.  There were four of them, 
each of them dark red with gold trim and each of 
them at least three inches thick.  Lifting them 
out of the drawer, he carried them back over to 
the couch, then sat down again, leaving one on 
his lap and setting the others beside him.

And he began.

The pages had yellowed over the years, and many 
of the pictures were faded, but there was no 
mistaking whose face was smiling back at him on
almost every page.

Samantha.  

She looked so completely different than his last
memories of her, and yet she was the same obnoxious 
little sister that used to follow him everywhere.

Lightly brushing his fingers over the picture, he 
looked down at the photo beneath it. It was one 
of his mother, Samantha, and him, the three of 
them standing by a picnic table at the beach.

It was a sunny day, and they were wearing their
bathing suits and sunglasses. His swim trunks 
were blue with a yellow stripe running down the 
side, and he was holding a big slab of watermelon 
in his right hand. 

Such a simple thing, to be eating watermelon on
a hot summer day with your family.

Then again, everything in his life was simple 
before Samantha was taken.

He thumbed through the rest of the album, his eyes
taking in every photograph, memorizing everything
about each one.

The way his dad's left eyebrow sat higher on his
forehead than the right one.

The blue overalls Samantha seemed to be wearing 
in over half the pictures that were taken of her.

The proud look on his mother's face as she stood
beside him on his first day of kindergarten.

And a picture of his parents he remembers taking
about a month before everything fell apart.

It was his father's birthday that day, and mom had
asked him if he would take a picture of the two of
them sitting together at the table by the cake.

And so he did, carefully focusing the camera the
way his dad had showed him and taking so long to
get it just right that the candles were almost 
melted down to stubs by the time he finally took 
the picture.

It was his favorite photo of them.

Not because of the fact that he was the one who 
took it or that it was the last time the four of 
them were together as a family.

But because it was proof.

Actual proof that there was a time when his mom 
and dad really did love each other.

Carefully taking the photo out from beneath the 
clear covering it was under, he held it in his 
hand and studied the way they were that day.

The way they sat so close beside each other at 
the table. The way dad seemed to be squeezing her 
shoulder as he held his arm around her. How she 
leaned into him and how their eyes seemed so full 
of love for each other.

And so full of life.

"You okay, Mulder?" asked Scully, sitting down on 
the couch beside him, a dust cloth in her hand.
"I was cleaning out in the kitchen, and I hadn't 
heard you in awhile."

"I'm okay. I was just..." he said softly, his eyes
still focused on the picture in his hand. "I was
looking for some evidence, and I think I found it."

She set the cloth down on the coffee table and 
turned towards him. "Evidence? Evidence of what?"

Handing her the faded photograph of his smiling 
parents, he replied, "Something I needed to see."

She looked down at the two people in the picture.
They were strangers to her, really, having never
met Bill Mulder and barely meeting his wife, yet
she could clearly see the love and affection they 
had for one another.

"It's a nice picture, Mulder," she said as she 
handed it back to him. "When was it taken?"

"I took it on my dad's 43rd birthday," he replied,
leaning back against the cushion. "About a month
before Samantha was..."

He stopped himself before finishing, awkwardly
looked down at the floor.

Taking the album off his lap, she nestled in beside
him and tenderly cupped her hand around his cheek.

"I'm okay, Scully, I really am," he said, pressing
a kiss to her forehead.

And he really was okay, with her here.

She put her hand on his and lifted the photograph 
up in between them. "They looked pretty happy here. 
Were they?"

Yes, on that day they were, he thought, just as they 
were on many other days back then.

"Yeah, I guess sometimes they were," he said quietly,
a hint of a smile crossing his face.

He set the picture down, and they sat together in 
silence then, his thumb softly caressing the curve 
of her shoulder.

But it wasn't an uncomfortable silence.

It was simply two people reflecting on what once 
was, accepting it, and moving on.

Several minutes later when he was ready to talk
again, he suddenly asked, "When's the last time 
you took a vacation, Scully?"

She thought back to two years ago when she'd gone
to Maine to get away for a few days, but ended up
getting involved with a case about an evil doll
instead.

"Ah...I guess it was probably two years ago when
I went to Maine," she answered, lazily tracing a 
pattern along the bottom of his shirt.

He chuckled. "Oh yeah, I remember that. The infamous
killer doll case, right?"

Now it was her turn to laugh. "That's the one. You
know, now that I think about it though, I didn't
really get much of a vacation while I was there."

"Then that's all the more reason to take one now." 
He sat up straighter and turned to her, then took 
both hands in his. "What do you say after we get 
things settled here, we drive up to Maine and have 
a real vacation for a couple days?" he asked, his 
entire demeanor completely changed from just a few 
moments ago. 

She looked into his eyes, saw the playfulness there
that had been missing for the past two weeks, and
smiled. "How soon can we leave?"

He smiled back.  "Just give me a few more minutes
here, and I'll be ready to go," he answered, looking
over at the stack of photo albums sitting on the 
other side of the couch.

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, then 
stood up. "Take as much time as you need," she said 
as she picked up the dust cloth from the coffee table. 
"But not too much," she added, gently squeezing his 
arm before going back out to the kitchen.

He watched her until she was gone, then turned his 
attention back to the still-opened photo album.
Setting it back on his lap, he picked up the picture
of his parents again.

They really were happy with each other back then, 
and he and Samantha were happy too.

And *that* is what he would choose to remember about 
his parents and sister.

That despite all the anger and guilt and accusations
that were thrown around in later years, they were at
one time just like any other family. 

Sliding the photograph back under its protective 
covering, he looked at the picture of Samantha next 
to it one more time before closing the album, then 
headed out into the kitchen. 

And though he knew he still had to go through the 
rest of his mother's possessions, he wouldn't be 
doing it today.

Today he would drive up to Maine and spend some time 
with his new family.

Scully.


~end~

possibilities
http://possibilities.bravehost.com/

Originally posted July 2004.