#Melissa Ephesian

[randomfoggytiger]

The Hospital Where You Slept

Wherein I, a non-romcomist, repurpose While You Were Sleeping (including bits of dialogue) for my own ingenious reasons.

This was a beast to write.

****

Perchance

I perished in an arrogant self-reliance

Ages ago…

That life was blotted out-- not so completely

But scattered wrecks enough of it remain,

Dim memories, as now, when once more seems

The goal in sight again. All which, indeed,

Is foolish, and only means-- the flesh I wear,

The earth I tread, are not more clear to me

Than my belief, explained to you or no.

-Robert Browning

*****

The world shrank to his beating heart, desperate inhalations, and freezing sweat. Endless hallways stretched incomprehensible distances and shot up into staircases, groaning under the desperation of his pace.

Melissa Rydell had a cup to her lips, chin trembling, when Mulder burst through the door, yelling at her to put it down, yelling at Vernon Ephesian to put his hands in the air.

Vernon turned, figure glazed by the searing sun, and smiled. “We escape the judgment.” And collapsed.

An exhalation, the release of the pressure towards the precipice, before Melissa dropped the cup and began to convulse.

“Paramedics, now!” Mulder yelled, vaulting forward and pumping, pumping, pumping to keep her soul from leaving once more.

*****

The ER was teeming with blood and broken limbs and bendable bodies stuffed into thin, unforgiving waiting chairs. He kept wild-eyed pace with the gurney until paramedics forced him aside, one staying back to force his limbs away when Mulder was assaulted with the pungent stink of vomit, Melissa’s vomit, and nearly collapsed against the wall.

*****

Skinner had let him sit, unaccompanied, while their star witness's stomach was pumped. Mulder figured it had something to do with an unexplained marriage of his own, but both kept their own council and avoided each other's eyes.

The scent of coffee snapped him from the endless bend of his thoughts. White hospital styrofoam floated a few inches from his face, and a few inches from that miracle were two very blue, very serious eyes. Mulder blinked, shut out the clamor of Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die, and refocused.

“I was passing by and thought you needed a black coffee.” Dr. Dana Scully; and her eyes were still serious and his hands were still shaking.

He took it and nodded. “Thank you.”

She nodded in turn, politely. “I saw what happened earlier and couldn’t help but wonder if your wife was okay.”

Mulder jolted as sickening dread clawed its screaming way into his throat. “My wife?”

Dr. Dana Scully’s eyebrows pulled down and her arm shot out to steady him. “Have you been checked for injuries, too? Head trauma? Do you have a headache or feel nauseous in any way?”

“I’m fine,” he breathed, bending forward to hide behind his hands. Dr. Scully and the hospital and poisoned soulmates melted briefly behind the consuming process of regular breathing. “She’s not my wife. I’m just an agent assigned to her case.”

“I’m….” Mulder looked up, the confusion in her voice catching his harried attention. “I’m sorry. You were insistent she was your wife when you both came in.”

“Did I say that?”

“Yes, you were quite insistent.” She paused, eyes darting back and forth while she puzzled over his sincerity. “Most likely shock, if you don’t remember.”

“I think I-- she’s not my wife. Now.”

“Hmm. But you love her?”

He wheezed, amused. “More than life itself.”

*****

Angry threats and a shot tumbled down from the desk area; and Mulder reached for his gun and ran down towards the unfolding chaos. A disheveled man, grimed and desperate, was waving a weapon and demanding “Drugs! Painkillers! Anything!” at a small group of medical staff.

Dr. Scully stood in front, her serious eyes burning as she commanded Jerry to listen. “Jerry, put it down. The police will be here any minute; and it’ll be easier to explain if you aren’t armed.”

Mulder slowed, leveled his gun, and called, “Jerry! FBI, put your hands in the--”

In a split second, the crowbar was flying down towards the doctor’s head and a bullet was crashing through the air towards the addict's chest. Metal and man collapsed to the ground with a clang and a thud.

*****

Midnight heralded majestic calm to the intensive care unit, quiet and cold as nurses softly made their rounds and Mulder kept his vigil by Melissa’s bed. She lay attached to and surrounded by wires and machines and stiff, antiseptic sheets.

Skinner had demanded an update, sighed heavily over the expected “A coma, Sir, and difficulty in assessing the extent of the damage to her organs”, and insisted Mulder get some sleep. Neither believed he would.

Too keyed to sit, he rose and walked a lap around the room, studying Melissa’s face from different angles and trying, trying, to unlock more memories with a squint or a stare. Coming to a halt by her side, he reached out to clutch her hand before drawing back. It felt wrong. Everything felt wrong.

“Melissa-- Sarah. It’s me, Sullivan. Mulder.”

He shivered, torn; and sagged back into his seat, too weary to continue this conversation while standing.

“I feel that my soul has been searching for years. In my arrogant self-reliance, I’d assumed that search was for the answers to my sister’s disappearance, that with her had vanished any sense of rest or peace. And before finding you, I’ve been….”

He stopped, jaw clenching. “When I was a kid, I’d dreamt of a normal life-- y’know, spaceships and baseball and family. Life didn’t… life hasn’t worked out that way, for me. I have, I have fish; and an apartment; and complete control of the remote-- though that might not mean much to you, Sarah, if you’re listening, but it’s important to a guy like me.”

The machines beeped, beeped in time with her heartbeat. “But… I don’t have anybody to laugh with; or share what I find every day in my work-- people or creatures no one can begin to quantify. I’m Spooky Mulder to everyone else: a joke they keep around to drag out of the basement when they can’t solve their own problems fast enough; and that's all they want to see.

“I think our souls found each other, bound across time and always searching; and I think we were destined to find each other now when we have no one else. To fix the mistakes of our past, Sarah. To make it right.”

*****

Dr. Scully announced her entrance by the click of her approaching heels; and, smiling, he turned in time to see her sweep aside the partition curtain and give him a sympathetic head tilt.

“How’s the arm?”

“Seen better days,” she admitted, self-consciously nudging the sleeve back for inspection. An ugly blue-and-blackening mark smeared the underside of her forearm; and he winced as she shrugged and covered it back up. “I wanted to thank you-- it’s not every day an FBI agent saves me from a deranged pill addict.”

“And it’s not every day I get to be on the other side of a tactical negotiation. You did pretty good under pressure.”

“Well I should, since it comes with the territory,” she replied, and smirked when he chuffed acknowledgement. “I was headed home but wanted to see how you two were doing.”

“I’ve been told she’s going to be sleeping for a while. Coma.”

“Coma? Do you know how serious?”

“'Not expected to wake for a while' serious.”

“Do you mind if I take a look at her chart?”

Deflating from his affirmative, Mulder stuttered. “I don’t... know if she’d be comfortable with that.”

“Right. Sorry.” She ducked her head, embarrassed, and made a show of looking at her watch. “It’s getting late, so I’d better….”

“Dr. Scully--”

“Dana’s fine, Mr. Mulder--”

“Mulder.”

“Excuse me?”

“I even made my parents call me Mulder, so.” He shrugged. “Mulder.”

Her smile downturned, tamping a quiet laugh; and the cold began to recede, anguish slinking away as fear turned back to fouler places.

“Scully," he began again, "do you believe in love at first sight? Or have you ever seen somebody that you knew would love the real you if they knew you? That they'd do anything to spend eternity with you? Have you ever fallen in love with somebody you haven’t even talked to?”

She squared her shoulders; and Mulder got the distinct impression she’d be crossing her arms if one wasn’t already injured.

“Logically, I would have to say no. Love at first sight is usually driven by hormones and attraction more than deep or lasting connection.”

“But if you know they’re the one, if your soul is crying out for them in a way you can’t possibly understand or quantify-- in a way that science can’t explain-- would you still think that feeling was only hormones or attraction or something larger than yourself?”

“What? Fate? Destiny?”

“Maybe-- or maybe something as simple as two souls reuniting across each lifetime.”

Mulder was surprised Scully seemed to be weighing his words, watching her mind work through different routes of attack before her gaze landed on Melissa. Her face softened; her posture relaxed.

“Mulder, there are explanations that science offers to these questions; and I believe the answers are there. But I don’t know what you believe and… and it’s late, and I need to go home.”

He nodded, smiled for her sake; and she smiled for his, nodded, and slowly turned back to pull the curtain.

“My next shift is tomorrow night, if you don’t mind me looking in on you.”

“I’ll be here,” he answered, good-naturedly patting the arm of his chair.

Scully pushed up an eyebrow, gave an enigmatic twist of her lips, and vanished, heels tapping further and further into the distance.

*****

Someone was shrieking at him. Mulder bolted upright, arms reaching simultaneously for his gun and Melissa before the fog in his head cleared and he found himself thronged by two small boys and four strangers. Doubling over in relief, he heard excitement turn to anxiety and mild horror.

“Oh, we’re so sorry--”

“Morgan! Conner! Get off of Mr. Mulder’s arm--”

“We didn’t mean to scare you--”

“--just dropping in and didn’t think--”

“--they jumped you, rather excited bunch--”

“Dana said that you had--”

Scully burst through, parting the Red Sea of cross and crucifix necklaces. “Mom, don’t crowd him-- Charlie, keep the boys from the wires-- Hessa, could you please pass me the blanket he dropped? Mulder--” she wheeled back around, caught between exasperation and nervous energy, “--sorry. My family heard about our exploits yesterday and insisted on coming here and thanking you in person--”

“We hope we didn’t disturb you,” said one of two brown-haired women Mulder assumed was Mom. “The boys were excited to meet a real FBI agent and escaped before Charlie could wrangle them into order.”

“But Grandma--”

“Grandma, we didn’t--!”

“Both of you hush,” the younger, black-haired woman cut in. “Mr. Mulder, we’re very sorry. They must have given you a heart attack.”

“Well, they, uh,” he chuckled, rubbing at his chest, “they put a new meaning in ‘up and at it’.”

“We’re sorry, Mr. Mulder.”

Scully swiped the blanket from the boys’ mother, folding it neatly as she primly replied, “He prefers to be called Mulder, Conner. And now,” she added, plopping her handiwork carefully over Melissa’s feet, “that we’ve scared him half to death, I think it’s time we all packed up--”

“Mulder? Name’s Charlie Scully. Pleasure to meet you.” Charlie Scully stuck an arm over his sister’s shoulder, grinning when her shrug off wasn’t tall enough to nudge him away; and Mulder shook it warmly, fond of this domestic display now that the buzz had dissipated from his ears. “We were all headed out for an early lunch-- care to join us? Get some fresh air and some good food in you?”

A good meal turned out to be a McDonald’s drive-through, American-red and glistening off a land-of-the-free highway; but Mulder ate it down, contentedly listening to the family chatter until Scully’s voice cut in with a sharp, “Mulder, is this your motel?” Gouging the sleep from his eyes with a ketchup-scented fist, he peered out the side window while both Scully boys rotated, anti-gravity style, somewhere further behind him.

It was his motel, alright: grungy and garish, morbid and foreboding. Even a particularly unlucky window had cracks and patches that eerily lined up with the horizontal scratches etched a couple feet wide into one of the separating walls.

“Charlie, keep driving. We’re going back to Dana’s place.”

“Mrs. Scully--”

“No arguments. There’s no way I can leave you here in good conscience, Fox, when Dana has a guest bed you can use.”

Scully, passive, didn’t disagree; and Mulder couldn’t think of a reason that didn’t begin and end in an argument.

*****

Mulder’s stakeout was disrupted again by the advent of Scully’s kitten heels.

“Mi casa es su casa,” he said, listening to her abruptly halt, then figure out and take in stride his astute hearing.

“Hopefully not for much longer.” Consolingly, she added, “Her vitals look good. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Yeah.”

A crinkle and crunch caught his attention, pulling his eyes away from Melissa’s respirator to the burrito that Scully was carefully unwrapping as nonchalantly as she could.

“Scully, are you snacking on the job?”

“It’s my lunch break. I’m running on four hours of sleep and just enough adrenaline to feel a bit rebellious.”

“I’m sure there’s a federal offense somewhere prohibiting that behavior.”

“Well, now you’re my accomplice; so, I don’t rate prison very highly on my list of concerns.”

“Partners in crime. I like it.”

“Hmm.” She chewed slowly, peeling back another paper layer. “I was thinking about what you said last night-- falling in love at first sight. I did, once. And it ended in heartbreak.”

“How so?” Leaning back, Mulder tried to stretch the cramp out of his right leg, mostly to no avail.

“It was a profession, not a person. When I was in medical school, I had… aspirations to leave it all behind. The FBI recruited me, and I almost accepted.”

“You were recruited? Scully.”

“I know. Melissa-- my sister, Melissa-- never lets me live it down.”

Mulder watched her methodically peel another layer away with more than necessary attention. “Did you accept?”

Softly clearing her throat, she answered, “No, uh, no. Things were complicated at home; and I didn’t think it was wise to add to the… complications by disappointing my parents. They would have considered it as an act of rebellion, you see.”

“I see.” He thumbed the blanket still folded on Melissa’s feet. “Was it?”

“No. I don’t think so, anyway. I wanted to make a difference in the world, prove myself beyond medicine, if I could. High ambitions, possibly unrealistic ones; but…” Looking down at the half-finished burrito, Scully smiled to herself and handed it over. “Sometimes we bite off more than we can chew. At least in medicine I get to meet FBI agents without the commitment.”

Snickering, he prodded, “What happened after recruitment? You decided medicine in Tennessee was enough for you?”

“Oh, no-- I moved here after my father’s death. No reason, really; I just... had to get away from the sea. It was coast to coast my whole life, and the allure of that lifestyle wore thin after….” her fingers made a sweeping motion, “Everything.”

“I see. Was Tennessee far enough away?”

“I suppose. Not as 'big city' as I’m used to, though.”

“Aw, it’s not so bad. Graceland’s tucked away around here somewhere.”

“You're an Elvis fan?”

“Mmhm.”

“You put the ‘fan’ in ‘fanatic’?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“That’s what all Elvis fans say. It begins with the music and ends with the conspiracies.”

“That’s what I like about you, Scully, you cling to your science despite all evidence to the contrary. Elvis is out there, and he’ll prove it to you someday.”

“And so is Bigfoot, the Mothman, and the Chupacabra.”

Mulder sat up, transfixed. “Everyone’s got their faith, Scully, and you’ve just spoken mine.”

“I have two rowdy nephews who I’m making up for lost time with, Mulder. Learning about things that go bump in the night are the least of my troubles.”

“Well, if you ever want to investigate those interests further, march right back to the FBI recruitment office and get partnered up with me.”

“Yes, Sir,” she teased.

Even so, another sort of feeling shot through Mulder-- the bitter cry of an old, loyal friend electrifying the gooseflesh on his dying skin-- and left him silent, shaken.

*****

It was the fourth day of pulling the night shift with Scully and sleeping it off in the guest room-- grabbing a simple breakfast with Maggie, Charlie, and the family before bed-- when Melissa, her sister Melissa, flew in with aplomb.

“It’s nice to meet you, Fox. Mulder,” she rectified, shooting a patient smile at Scully’s sharp glance. “I’ve been told not to call you 'Fox'.”

“Melissa, turn on your tact switch, please.”

“Hello to you, too, little brother.”

Amidst the rushed “hello”s, Mulder caught a softer, “Dana, you’re glowing-- I haven’t seen you this happy in years,” before he dashed away to get ready.

“Bill and Tara are only a couple hours behind me, Mom, so we should all be packed in by midnight. Hope you have the room, Day.”

“Clearly,” Scully dryly responded while Maggie twisted around to give her eldest daughter a more welcoming “You always have a home here, Melissa.”

Sweeping by, Mulder stooped to whisper, “Very generous woman, your Mom,” to Scully, and waited a second for her rejoining, “Always generous with what isn’t hers” before sailing away for his shoes.

Melissa saw them off at the door, her smile less enigmatic, more cunning. “Have a nice night Dana,” she waved, blowing a kiss after both of them and shutting up the household chatter with a swift slam of the door.

“That’s a first.”

His partner-in-crime’s acquiescing “Yes” was less jovial, more ruminative.

*****

“Mom wants to throw a celebration for when Melissa wakes up,” Scully amended, yawning her way through a forkful of salad and croutons.

Melissa Rydell, Mulder noted, was hooked up to less machinery, though its mechanical clackery still hummed in alternating soothing or nerve-wracking chatter. Today, he supposed, it was the latter.

“Mulder?”

“Hm? Oh, that’s… that’s good.”

“Mulder.” Melissa’s heart beat between them, calmly, incessantly. Stronger every day. “Why don’t you ever talk about her?”

“About who?”

“Melissa-- you always avoid the topic or give one-word answers. I don’t know anything about her other than she’s the love of your life, that you’re devoted to her, and that we sit here, day after day, waiting for her to wake up. I mean, you’ve never even touched her hand while she’s been here.”

Mulder wanted to shift away from her chair, but that would scoot him closer to Melissa’s bed. He settled for sliding forward, changing his mind, and sliding backwards. “She’s very important to me.”

“I’m not trying to make you prove anything to me, I just--” Scully grabbed the second blanket she’d stored at Melissa’s feet and attempted to sweep it over her shoulders. Mulder watched her struggle for a bit before reaching over and carefully adjusting it himself. “Thank you. I want to know her, Mulder-- as a person, not a patient.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Well… what’s her favorite ice cream?”

“Ben and Jerry’s.”

“Ben and Jerry’s…?”

“Ben and Jerry’s.”

“Mulder, that’s a brand, not a flavor.”

“I never thought to ask.”

“We’ve spent almost five days side by side and you already know how I prefer my coffee, what vending machine I don’t like, and which breakfast sides I’ve marked as the greasiest; but you don’t know Melissa’s favorite ice cream flavor.”

“I don’t, Scully. What else?”

“Fine.” There was a calculating look in her eye that didn’t bode well. “When’s your anniversary?”

“We have a couple different ones.”

Sharp, palpable anger settled between them, heat building under his collar as his palms sweat and her face solidified into immovable reproof.

“Mulder--”

“No, Scully.”

“Will you just hear me, please.” She waited for his nod. He gave it, grudgingly; and she continued. “I don’t believe you know anything about this woman other than an ideal or fantasy you’ve built up in your mind. You don’t need to tell me about the case or how you met or even what drew you to each other for me to know that you are pursuing the wrong path.

"Do you really know her-- Melissa Rydell; not Melissa, the woman fell in love with at first sight?”

*****

They spent the rest of the shift apart, meeting up when it was time to leave and pensively filing into their respective seats in Scully’s modest car.

Bill and Melissa were at the door when Mulder drove up; and he wished this were any other morning when the distance between himself and their younger sister could be more easily disguised.

“Billy, this is Fo-- Mulder; Mulder this is Billy; and Dana, this is Billy and Mulder.”

“Har har,” Scully huffed, hauling herself past Melissa into Bill’s arms, past him to the shoe rack.

“Mulder,” Bill Scully said, sizing him up before offering a handshake. “Heard you’re part of the family now.”

“‘Fraid so,” Mulder quipped, then winced when Scully flinched.

“Bill, don’t jockey him for your old room back. Mulder didn’t even know the concept of a guest room existed until Mom practically threw it at him.”

Melissa whistled, looking between the two of them. “C’mon, Dana, we’ve got a nice cream cheese bagel with your name on it.”

*****

The guest room had been stifling-- the antique clock’s thick ticking thrust him back into the heavy, methodical beeping of Melissa Rydell’s life support-- and Mulder, overheating in the thinnest cotton layers he could find, sought solace in Scully’s car. It was an old ritual formed from long stakeouts with a roster of unsociable partners that lasted mere weeks before leaving Spooky to his dusty theories and dustier passenger seat. This time he was the passenger, cranking up the aircon and ripping out whatever cash he had in his wallet to toss onto her side of the glove compartment. He could lose a dollar or two in exchange for needed space.

When the driver’s side door opened, he bolted upright, blearily assuming he’d overslept; and was confused when the wrong Scully sister dropped into view.

“Fox, Mulder, whatever, I need to talk with you. Just a minute?”

“Um.” Half-expecting Melissa to park herself wherever she liked anyway, he shuffled upright and waved a hand at her. “Come in.”

She stooped then stopped, catching a swirling dollar with her fingertips. “Why’re there bills everywhere?”

“Because the gas is on.”

“Okay.” Swishing uselessly here and there, Melissa gave up and slammed the front door. Mulder wondered if the impulse to hit all the locks was paranoia or prescience before she slid back a few feet, opened the back door, and scooted in, perturbed but seated.

“Dana’s been… off today. And I’m not trying to get involved in your affairs, but I really think you should tell her.”

“Tell her what.”

“I really think you should. She’s feeling displaced and unprioritized; and sooner or later she’s going to decide this back and forth isn’t worth the effort and cut her losses.” She bobbed her head to scout him out through the rear view mirror. “Dana came home subdued and grieved; and her feelings for you are really raw--”

“What--” Mulder bent his head feverishly until he found her in the mirror, too. “Melissa, Dana and I do not love each other. Dana is not in love with me-- and everyone knows I’m in love with Melissa and waiting for her to wake up.”

“Please, you haven’t been in love with her since the moment I arrived. You’ve been conflicted, and those conflicted feelings have been clouding your judgment to--”

“Melissa, I don’t want to hear your... this. And if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to get some more sleep before I have to drive back to the hospital.”

She sat back, studied him a long moment, then sighed, defeated. “Maybe I was just crazy, or hopeful, or I noticed something between you that neither of you will recognize--” shooting him a pointed look, “--but it’s hard to think of your baby sister going it alone, y’know? Even if she chooses to do so.”

Almost a week of emotional roller coasters and somehow, someway, Mulder gathered, a cruel trick of the universe was about to toss him down another dip. “'Go it alone'... how?”

“I haven’t had a chance to talk it over with her, but after some educated guess work and some spying of my own,” Melissa smirked at him, joyless, “I’m pretty sure she’s pregnant.”

Down the dip he goes.

“And Dana’s more than capable of taking on single motherhood alone, but….”

Somehow, someway he found his voice. “She’s been drinking coffee... so, so, I don’t think she’d be….”

“She hasn’t, Mulder. I’ve been watching. Have you seen her, at the hospital?”

He hadn’t.

“I’m never wrong about Dana, as much as she wishes I were.” Melissa tapped his shoulder and popped open the door again. “And I really think you should tell her.”

*****

The restaurant was packed, families and singles escaping the hot June weather with the promise of swift customer service and big, cheap meals stacked on impossibly large plates. Scully, of all people, had suggested it, wanting to show off the “local grub” to Bill and Tara, flicking Charlie when he whined about being an afterthought now. The sizzling smell of grease and fatty meat and salty snacks and rich desserts burrowed into the thick, tightly woven green carpet and practically varnished the sturdy, simply carved wood paneling that stretched from the floor to the bottom of each window.

It was Heaven to a man like Mulder and the Slough of Despond to a woman like Scully; yet she tucked away a modest serving while he limped half-heartedly through his meal, watching her untouched coffee cool and stale with the blooming conviction that he was going to lose the undivided attention of the one person who hadn’t grown sick of his company. His eyes met Melissa’s across the table, and she nodded slightly at him, convincing him that she was convinced this was another sign of his lovelornity.

Well, tough-- for her and for him. He was flying back to Washington D.C. at some point; and whatever friendship he and Scully had recently formed would likely have disintegrated with distance, regardless. Melissa would dote on the newest family member while making moon eyes over ‘what could have been’ and Bill would get his guestroom back and Maggie would move back into the room he, Mulder, vacated; and wouldn’t they all be one hunky dory, happy-go-lucky family?

He’d wait long enough for Melissa to wake up, and recover, and they’d….

The last of his appetite was gone.

*****

Having accepted the probability of an uber Scully, Mulder packed his resentment judiciously away with any expectation beyond a kind but temporary friendship; and pulled out chairs and opened doors with a vengeance. Everyone else raised eyebrows or exchanged surprised glances except Melissa, who watched them drive off with doom and acceptance in her eyes.

The evening haunt now alternated with vigils at Melissa’s bedside and more frequent trips from Scully’s favorite vending machine-- down the hall, up a floor, back down the elevator-- to the ICU common area where he would loiter with water or a snack for Dr. Scully to grab as she passed. By eleven, most of his offerings were piled on her seat in Melissa’s room and he was questioning how medical staff made it through their repetitive rounds with little time in-between for breaks.

Activity on the ward slowed around 1 A.M., leaving room, Mulder noticed, for Scully's suspicions to be awakened.

“Is this the fourth bottle of water?” she asked, sidling up slowly, intercepting his zeal with an outstretched hand.

“Fifth. Drank the last one.”

Sighing, Scully led the way back to Melissa’s room, her sneakers-- this was the first night he’d seen her without heels-- squeaking across the freshly mopped floor with punctuating emphasis. She practically groaned when the leaning tower of snack bars came into view.

“Mulder, if this is about last night, let’s just-- move past it.”

He nodded, eyeing the stack as it slowly slid into staircase formation.

She sighed again. “What is going on here, Mulder? And I don’t intend to let this go until you tell me the truth.”

“Melissa followed me out to the car this afternoon. She told me.”

Those serious, blue eyes had widened, sweeping over his face before looking away. “What did she tell you?”

“That she thought you were… pregnant.”

“What?” Scully snapped forward, ramrod straight, sneakers stamped unthinkingly on the front of his shoes, seeking secure footholds with the grace of two concrete bricks. She stepped back, aware, when Mulder crinkled his right eye in pain. “Sorry. I’m not-- why…”

“You’re not?”

“I’m not.” Her hand reached out, assuring. “I’m not.”

Another flash of Scully or someone like her bent over him, dragging what he knew to be his dying body across the earth. Companionship. Trust. No man left behind.

“I wanted to try IVF.”

The vision was gone; but the peace remained. Scully still stood by his side-- littler, now-- gripping his arm supportively as she slowly and succinctly kept him grounded. “The treatments are expensive, and grueling; and they’re not guaranteed to work. Bill and Tara have been trying for almost two years, without success.”

Mulder nodded, encouraged. “Hm.”

“I don’t know how Melissa could have figured that out, though.”

“You weren’t drinking your coffee.”

Her head dipped, chin tilted out. “I’ve been tapering off, because….”

“You were weaning yourself in preparation.”

“Anyway, now that that’s cleared up….” Embarrassed, Scully walked to the snack pile, grabbed a protein bar, and routinely unwrapped it.

A long pause-- as such pauses are before life-altering decisions-- bridged the gap between her confession and his admittance; and, steeling himself, Mulder sat, swiped up the little tower, and motioned for her to sit, too. A little quid pro quo.

“I was twelve when it happened. My sister was 8. She just… disappeared out of her bed one night. Just gone, vanished."

*****

Melissa Rydell woke on the thirteenth day, gargling past her intubation tube, wailing and screaming for Vernon Ephesian.

*****

“Agent Mulder--”

“Sir, she’ll know me, she has to, we just have to bring in someone who can help her unlock her memories--”

“Repressed memories are very different from brain damage, Agent. And might I remind you that the extent of her damage is so severe that I expect you to tread very carefully. There are already compromising questions being asked about your involvement in this case--”

“Like what? That I’m manipulating a vulnerable woman to prove an egomaniacal theory? That I’m using my influence to mold her into my beliefs, like Ephesian did? Like they think I want to do?”

“You will stand down on this, Mulder. If you wish to see that woman recover enough to make a statement on behalf of the late members of the Church of Seven Stars, then I suggest you direct your anger towards a productive course of action.”

“And what’s that, Sir? Let her lose that side of herself because no one here wants to admit that Spooky was onto something? That the FBI was able to save one alive from Ephesian's second attempted mass suicide because of my theories? Is that not good enough for your report--”

“Mulder!” Scully appeared abruptly to his right, anchoring her hand on his arm as she swiveled from one red face to the other.

Both men heaved, locked into position in case either of them decided Agent Mulder was going to do something stupid.

“Mulder, I need to speak with you-- privately.”

The gridlock eased, Special Agent tugged slowly away from Assistant Director with future intent etched in the straight edge of each tight shoulder. She walked him to an empty hospital room; and both politely waited for the door to shut before turning on each other.

“Mulder, you are compromising your position on this case when Melissa Rydell has barely woken from her coma, let alone remembered any pertinent evidence to prove your assumption?”

“Scully, you've heard what I found-- the dates, the testimony, the pictures--”

“And what I’ve heard is circumstantial evidence that is moot without her corroborating testimony. Look, I’m not happy about this, either, but you can’t fit this woman or her memories into what you want her to believe."

“Scully, it’s not what I want her to believe, it’s the truth! Do you expect me to deny it because it’s inconvenient? That’s not who I am.”

“Mulder, I’ve seen things that I can’t explain, too-- I’ve witnessed them with my own eyes. My father--” Scully’s face fell, but she recovered momentum in a blink, “--appeared to me minutes before my mother called to announce his death. I know. I know! But it might not be what really happened-- and if it is, it might not be the whole truth of what happened. Just because you saw it or felt it, doesn’t mean it’s what you understand it to be. The truth is out there, Mulder. But so are lies. And the ones we tell ourselves are often the easiest to mistake for the truth.”

*****

Mulder spent his last night in a Tennessean motel, meeting up in the odd, early hours of the morning with the Scullys for breakfast. Red-rimmed eyes, disheveled hair, and pillow creases at odd sides of his face marked a night of exhaustive, useless effort.

The Scully boys gave him bacon bits from their plates, the Scully brothers kept the coffee coming, and the Scully women fussed and distracted at the appropriate moments. Breakfast eaten, they clung to the silence, knowing only that they didn’t want to break it. Then Mulder made a motion towards his watch and skidded out of the booth, Morgan and Conner following close behind. The Spooky Mulder Fan Club: members, two. It was bittersweet; and he gripped them on either side as they walked to the van and drove to the airport.

Maggie pulled him aside before he could check in. “Fox, I want you to call as soon as you land. Promise me, fresh from the plane. I remember how it was for my husband to return to his base, alone, with his family thousands of miles away. One of us’ll be waiting; and Charlie and I’ll be flying back to Maryland in a week or two, and I don’t want you to even think of avoiding us. Drive down and I’ll have some good cooking ready for you.” And she hugged him and he hugged back, murmuring wordless noises between them.

“Don’t forget to give us a ring, too, Mulder,” Charlie added, cutting in for a goodbye shake while the boys ping-ponged back and forth between both for hugs and hair ruffles. Bill gave a decent nod and an approving grip while Melissa and Tara and Hessa traded off with slow approaches and graceful scuffles away.

Scully was last, of course. “You call,” she whispered. He nodded.

*****

“Scully.”

“Hey, Scully, it’s me.”

“...Mulder?”

“Yeah. I called because I just got back from a case-- real gruesome one involving sorcery and plastic surgery, you’d ’ve loved it.”

“I see.”

“Anyway, I, uh, wanted to check-in and say, that… I reached my apartment, safely.”

“No kidding.”

“And that I hope your mom got my first message, fresh off the plane.”

“She did. I heard she liked it.”

“That’s good.”

“...Mulder, is there a point to this particular ‘check-in’?”

“Uh huh. I was wondering if you were flying up with Melissa and Bill and Tara for-- any time soon.”

“Uh… no. I’m not, any time soon.”

“Oh.”

“But I thought, maybe, you would be flying down for a statement for the Ephesian case. I read it's still wrapping up.”

“I could. Is Dunk ‘N Fry still keeping its heavenly, greasy doors open?”

“It should be.”

“And I could cross-reference some casefile notes with you. Got an interesting one on a goat man sighting.”

“El Chupacabra?”

“No-- that’s an animal, not a goat man, Scully. This one’s the real deal.”

“Uh huh.”

“So, I’ll-- I could touch down in… two days.”

“They must really need you back in Tennessee for the case.”

“Well, Scully, I have to confess a little something.”

“...Sure, okay.”

“There’s this girl I want to see.”

“...Does she have a name?”

“Yeah, but she prefers I not call her by it.”

“I see.”

“And there’s a place-- a very special place-- to me that I want to show her. A sabbatical of sorts, to reconnect and… get to know her better.”

“Don’t you know each other pretty well?”

“Pretty well. But I’d like to know her better.”

“I’ll bet she wants to know you better, too.”

“I hope she doesn’t mind a road trip. It’s part of my nature to wander.”

“No, I don’t think she will. I think she’d like to wander around a bit, too.”

“Does two days sound too fast, too soon?”

“Two days sounds perfect.”

“Okay.”

“Just a second.... Gotta go, duty calls.”

“Go save the world, Scully.”

“I'd need a lot more than two days' time, Mulder."

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

******

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic!

[leiascully]

X-Files OctoberFicFest Day 16: The Field Where I Died

Cut for canon abuse/murder/child death

Scully didn’t believe in past lives or hypnosis or destiny. She hoped that Melissa Riedal-Ephesian hadn’t either—there was no timeline in which she deserved the fate she had drawn. Scully felt none of the echoes Mulder claimed to sense when she looked at Melissa or the Seven Stars compound or the photographs he’d found. The resemblance was slightly uncanny, but the photograph was blurry. The imagination enhanced the line of the jaw, the slope of the nose into something recognizable.

If they were all entangled, she felt sorry for the woman. Mulder’s mesmerized recitation had relegated Scully firmly to the best supporting actress role: sergeant, first mate, partner. Melissa, as Mulder’s true love, faced tragedy after tragedy, just as she had in this life. Samantha too seemed doomed to suffer in these storylines. Scully couldn’t countenance that. Surely their souls deserved peace in some eras.

Besides, if past lives were real, Melissa Riedal wasn’t the Melissa her soul was tethered to. There wasn’t a timeline in which Mulder could let go of his sister, and that was just as true for her.

Mulder accepted the theory of Melissa’s incarnations with an easy grace despite Melissa’s own skepticism. Whether his memories had been drawn out of the deep well of his soul or fabricated by his vivid imagination, Scully couldn’t say and Melissa refused to consider. He believed the narrative that they’d been in love, when they’d been Sarah Kavanaugh and Sullivan Biddle. He believed she had been his soul mate. Soul mates couldn’t be relegated to the past tense, to past lives. Soul mates were eternal.

And if she’d thought, from time to time, that there might be glints of more between herself and Mulder, perhaps she’d been mistaken. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d confused friendship for something more. Never the bride, or even the bridesmaid—she might be a right hand, but her left remained unadorned.

What she and Mulder had was deep and meaningful. It was trust. It was an absolute faith in each other despite their many points of disagreement. It didn’t have to be romantic to be love. Would it have changed the way they looked at each other, the depth of their bond in this life? She wasn’t sure. Her connection with Mulder was unique in her experience. She couldn’t imagine feeling any differently about him, for better or for worse.

She felt petty, spending any time at all thinking about past lives when there were present lives at stake. Children’s lives, women’s lives: a whole community drawn in by a charismatic criminal. They had come for a covenant and been given false promises. The victims were her priority.

In the end, the FBI’s best efforts weren’t good enough. Bureaucracy prevailed. The conflict staggered to its inevitable unhappy conclusion. Melissa died. They all died.

It was been a long and difficult afternoon coordinating the removal of the bodies. At least she’d been spared the need to conduct autopsies: the cause of death was clear enough to be established by local MEs. Mulder hadn’t demanded she conduct an autopsy on Melissa Riedal. She hadn’t had to zip the children into body bags. Still, her body ached and there was a dull throb between her eyes.

She found Mulder in the field, staring out across the ridge, the two tattered photographs in his hands. She took them from him gently. He gazed at her, dazed, as if she were a stranger.

“We’ll have to return these to the local archives for restoration,” she said. “I plan to have copies made for the file, to corroborate your testimony under hypnosis.” She watched him. “I could have copies made for you as well.”

He looked back out over the long grass. “She said she wanted to believe.”

“I know.”

“It made her want to die. She’d already given up.”

“I know.”

Tears rolled down his face. She drew his head down to her shoulder and let him weep for all the lives he couldn’t save. She wished she could cry. Her headache built, but her eyes were dry. She held him, in the field where he believed he’d died, and wondered how many bones rested under the soil, how many souls would be weighed against their own.

[teiasviago]

“I was here. As were you. This is the field where I watched you die.”

“The Field Where I Died,” perhaps more than any episode from the fourth season, is one that fans either loved or hated. Loved because it was, as someone aptly put it, a poetic departure from the norm, or hated for its contradicting the mythology and the vocal fanbase of a yet-to-blossom Mulder and Scully relationship.

Many rank this among the lesser of the show’s efforts, but this reaction is exaggerated. There is some beautiful writing to be found here from James Wong and Glen Morgan, two of the show’s writers who spear-headed the series’ character development department more than once with fan favorites like “Beyond the Sea” and “One Breath.” This particular episode does not serve the same function per se, but maintains a similar emotional momentum as Mulder confronts his past lives and reencounters the soulmate he lost, Kristin Cloke’s Melissa Ephesian, a member of a suicidal religious sect.

One of the strengths of this episode is its memorable acting on the part of Cloke, a talent Morgan and Wong had and would continue to work with on other shows such as Millennium. Though the portrayal of a dissociative identity disorder sufferer is largely exaggerated for spectacle’s sake, Cloke is dynamic and charged in her multiple roles. Without a suspenseful plot for support, her acting manages to drive the episode from start to finish.

There is a distinct lack of an “X-Files” feel right from the get-go, calling into question why Mulder and Scully were dispatched to investigate Ephesian’s cult in the first place. Other inconsistencies have already been noted, namely the impossibility of the Cigarette-Smoking Man living in WWII as a Nazi soldier, and that Melissa was insinuated to be the soulmate of Mulder rather than Scully, a revelation that blatantly opposes the events that unraveled in later seasons.

“The Field Where I Died” is not a great episode, nor is it an ideal representative of the show’s usual motif. It also tends to drag a bit near the end of its second act. This is an episode best recommended to be viewed outside of the series’ over-arching continuity, with enough journeyman acting to keep it fresh and some insightful character moments from Mulder and Scully.

— DWilliams1089’s review on IMDb on September 9th, 2010

[carefulfears]

my thoughts on the field where i died, as promised!

first of all, i just have to say, this episode is so visually stunning. glen morgan/james wong + rob bowman behind the camera is a dream team, and i’m inclined to be a bit more open to the content than i probably would be if it came from the perspective of another writer.

the criticism that i hear the most regarding this episode is that it implies that mulder and scully aren’t soulmates, but i've never interpreted it that way

the field where i died opens on an FBI raid of a cult in tennessee headed by vernon ephesian, where mulder intuitively leads the team to a bunker housing ephesian and his six wives, including melissa riedal-ephesian.

throughout the investigation, FBI focus turns to uncovering the location of the cult's weapons, in a search to find enough evidence to charge ephesian. otherwise, he will be released in 24 hours.

throughout the 24 hour holding period, multiple interrogations of melissa reveal not only the depth of the connection that mulder feels to her, but that she seems to exhibit multiple personalities, each with differing information about ephesian's crimes.

in what is possibly my favorite frame of the series, mulder suggests that these alternate personalities might actually be melissa recalling her past lives, and suggests that she try regression hypnosis, with the goal of revealing where the bunker holding the weapons is

this is where this episode starts to lose people, as both mulder and melissa undergo regression hypnosis, and both claim to recognize each other as their spouse in each previous life

however, as the wikipedia summary points out, the recollected histories all end with the two being separated.

melissa describes watching mulder's death during the civil war, while mulder describes witnessing her being taken away (by CSM?? i'll admit this is a weird one, folks) during WWII, with mulder having the line "we're always taken away."

also a frequent flyer in the past life regression session, is scully, who appears in each of mulder's previous lives, an occurrence he describes as souls coming back "different, but always together, again and again, to learn"

personally, i don't think that mulder and melissa being married in each life, or even the emotional connection that they have to each other, is implying that they're soulmates or supposed to be together.

i think that the repeated theme of mulder and melissa being separated and mulder and scully "coming together" in each life is the more meaningful note from morgan and wong. and more than that, i don't think that any of this matters at all.

if you recall, the goal of the regression hypnosis in the first place was to find the bunker. to locate the weapons, to charge ephesian, and to hold the cult members in custody.

ultimately, the regression doesn't assist in the investigation at all, and a planned FBI search of the grounds finds every member of the group dead in a mass suicide, including melissa.

the stand-out of this episode, however, comes before the revelation of the ending.

"dana, if early in the four years we've been working together, an event occurred that suggested or somebody told you that...we'd been friends together. in other lifetimes. always. wouldn't it have changed some of the ways we looked at one another?"

following mulder's regression, the episode pauses. and mulder asks scully (calling her by her first name, i believe for the first time since season one) if having known they were fated to come back together, to always be friends, would have changed things between them.

this is a conversation that is ongoing throughout the series, the question of fate vs. free will, and as the incredible @scullysflannel has written about before, mulder loves free will.

while fated past lives might be the MOTW, might be the supernatural phenomenon that we're focusing on, that doesn't mean that the episode, or mulder, comes out on the side of fate.

fate can't find the bunker. fate doesn't save anyone's life.

frequently, when this debate is brought up, as is scully's involvement in the x-files.

scully was assigned to the x-files, she was positioned there by CSM purposefully, and they both know that. but she has chosen to commit herself to the cause, and specifically to mulder. she sought him out when they were shut down, she describes herself as having "followed" him, and she continuously fights to stay involved in his journey.

this is something that mulder rebels against from time to time, feeling responsible for the things that have happened to her since she became involved in his quest

and feeling that there's more for her than what a life with him offers.

in fight the future, he tells her to leave and go be a doctor. in requiem, he laments "everything that's been taken" from her, including her health and chance at being a mother.

over 15 years later, in nothing lasts forever, he admits to the scenario he envisions, a world where she "left that basement office" and married some brain surgeon, became everyone's boss at the FBI, her family and health and babies intact.

regardless of the underlying level of guilt and responsibility that he always feels when it comes to the losses that scully has suffered

he needs this life to have been her choice, for her autonomy in that decision to have been intact, for a life with him to not have been her irrevocable, and somewhat tragic, fate

and so in the field where i died, shortly after exploring the connections of his past, he looks up at her and asks...if this were all because we're supposed to know each other, would it have been different?

and she tells him, no.

the way that in fight the future she tells him that she'll be a doctor, but her work is with him. the way that in requiem she told him that she won't let him go alone. the way that in nothing lasts forever she told him that she doesn't begrudge him anything, that her "leap of faith forward" is the future she wants with him.

maybe they have been friends in every life that they have ever lived. maybe they are fated to always come back together, to always learn from each other.

but fate doesn't save the day, fate doesn't show you what you need to find.

they choose each other, and more than anything else in this episode, that's what he needed to hear.

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Season Four Master Post

Season four is one of the most beloved seasons of The X-Files, and we had a lot of fun exploring the background characters that helped make it so special!

Check out this thread to see all the characters we got to meet this season!

Herrenvolk (4x01) | X

No one would remember him, and if they did, they would struggle to remember a name they were never told. The memory of his existence would remain occluded by the shadows he lived in.

Home (4x02) | Sheriff Andy Taylor

For protection, his father had said, as he pressed the unfamiliar cold metal into Taylor’s warm hand. To keep your family safe.

To keep your home safe.

He shuts the drawer. He isn’t ready for this reality, not now. Not yet.

Teliko (4x03) | Special Agent Sean Pendrell

With them, it was never something simple. It was a computer chip so fragile he could barely study it. It was a complex string of numbers and letters tracking a smallpox vaccination program for reasons he couldn’t even begin to fathom.

This was what he went to school for.

Unruhe (4x04) | Gerry Schnauz

Gerry knew she needed his help the moment they met. There was a howler inside of her head — a black mass invading her body and mind.

The Field Where I Died (4x05) | Melissa Rydell Ephesian

Melissa struggled with the idea of reincarnation, but dared not show it. And as it turned out, a broken link in the chain of her faith led to more broken links.

When she first saw Vernon hurt a child, the chain shattered.

Sanguinarium (4x06) | Dr. Theresa Shannon

The face on the computer had looked just like Jack, but that had to be impossible. The science of surgery hadn’t come that far. To spread the eyes further apart, change features completely… and besides, she knows him. Knows the person he is…

Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man (4x07) | Albert M. Godwinkle

All Albert M. Godwinkle wants today is to read a halfway decent manuscript that puts a smile on his disgruntled face. Today is not that day.

Tunguska (4x08) | Alex Krycek

If looks could kill, Alex would be a dead man. But he thrives off this, off making Mulder squirm. It’s just so fucking easy.

Terma (4x09) | Senator Albert Sorenson

He was a staunch proponent of holding insubordinate witnesses in contempt when the court was not being respected, and no one, not even a government employee, was immune to that.

Paper Hearts (4x10) | Addie Sparks

The little girl he loves is gone, and she is never coming back.

Just like me.

El Mundo Gira (4x11) | Migrant Worker

At the simple mention of El Chupacabra, the shack erupted in a cacophony of worry, as if merely saying the name might summon the beast.

Leonard Betts (4x12) | Michele Wilkes

Even through the panic she felt screaming through her that nothing about this was okay, she felt a moment of relief wash over her. Maybe it had all been a dream. Maybe her partner hadn’t died while she was at the wheel.

Never Again (4x13) | Ed Jerse

Deadbeat. Loser. Failure.

He’s heard it all, and he has had enough. No one humiliates Ed Jerse anymore. No, not now. Never again.

Memento Mori (4x14) | Kurt Crawford

What is destined for a creature borne of fluid and test tubes, guided by the hands of cruel men?

Kaddish (4x15) | Ariel Luria

Someone else’s hatred had taken her true love away. Just like that, in an instant, like it was nothing. But it was not hatred that led her to the gravesite that stormy night.

Unrequited (4x16) | Special Agent Kent Hill

Hill slides in his earpiece, watching as their eyes lock. His wife would call it eavesdropping, but as he steps closer, tilting his head just right to better hear their hushed voices, Hill simply calls it satisfying a long-standing curiosity.

Tempus Fugit (4x17) | Bartender

The man tried to fluff the pink ball back into shape after presumably squashing it in his pocket. “The woman I came in with— it’s her birthday, and she loves these things. I was wondering if there was any way you could ask someone in the back to put it on a plate and bring it out to her?”

Max (4x18) | Sharon Graffia

Sharon Graffia isn’t a liar. She’d only done what she needed to in order for people to believe her. All she’s ever wanted was someone to believe her.

Synchrony (4x19) | Jason Nichols

Naïveté and a complete lack of understanding of the consequences of their work had been their downfall. But how could they have known?

Small Potatoes (4x20) | Eddie Van Blundht

It didn’t take him long to realize he’d initially misread the situation when he saw them at the clinic. Based on the look Dana Scully shot him when he tried to hold her hand at the airport, he knew he was navigating territory Fox Mulder had yet to conquer.

Zero Sum (4x21) | Billy

He slowly twisted his neck to the right, and was horrified by the sight before him. In the next bed over was David from his class, his face covered in gross red bumps. He looked dead.

Billy didn’t know what else to do. He started crying.

Elegy (4x22) | Lauren Heller

She had an exam in the morning. Her mother’s birthday was the following weekend. She had plans.

Demons (4x23) | Amy Cassandra

As she speaks, the deep wound in her skull throbs, reminding her that that was true, until weeks ago when she’d traded the nightmare of one penetrating drill with the reality of another.

Gesthemane (4x24) | Father McCue

Her faith had come from God, yes… but it had also come from another, less expected source. Perhaps it still did.

Stay tuned for more perspectives coming in Season Five!

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

We spend so much time deliberating and chatting about who to use in a given episode or where certain characters would be best utilized in the series, and we'd love to hear any opinions or predictions you might have! Do you have a favorite minor character? What episodes do you think would be best for our favorite recurring characters? Your feedback is one of the most enjoyable parts of this project (and sometimes hearing other perspectives can help inform the decisions we have to make). - @admiralty-xfd, @fridaysat9, @monikafilefan, and @gaycrouton

[hollywoodumc-harmonytolucalake]

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Friday, March 8th

Ephesians 2:1-10

Written by Melissa Perrigo

#lentendevotional

[wutbju]

Daniel Kenneth Diehl (1940 – 2023) was born in Vinton, Iowa, on January 31, 1940, to Reverend Chester and Alice (Dieken) Diehl.  In 1947 Chester became the pastor of Glenwood Bible Church, and the family moved to Glenwood, Illinois.  As a young boy Danny heard his father talk about God’s gift of salvation, and he put his faith in Jesus Christ.  He spent his childhood helping on his relatives’ farms, picking strawberries in the family garden, and practicing the piano and trumpet.  In his teens, he became the captain of Glenwood’s Youth for Christ Bible quiz team; their championship quiz on the book of Ephesians was held in Torrey-Gray Auditorium and aired on WMBI during Moody’s Founder’s Week. 

Danny attended Bob Jones University in Greenville, South Carolina, graduating with a Bachelor’s Degree in 1963 and a Master’s Degree in 1965.  During his time at the university, he toured the Midwest with a brass ensemble group known as the King’s Karions.  After graduating from college, Danny took a job at U.S. Steel and assisted his father with the music/youth ministries at Beach Community Bible Church in Beach Park, Illinois.  He would often play the trumpet for youth rallies held at nearby churches, and at one of these events, Danny met Nancy Taborsky; they were married on August 9, 1969.

The newly married couple soon realized that God was calling them to a ministry at Indian Hill Bible Church in Ingleside, Illinois, where they spent the next 50 years serving the God they loved.  Pastor Danny led music, played piano and trumpet, conducted choirs, coached Bible quiz teams, worked with the youth ministry and Awana programs, and assisted with the upkeep of the building – all while working in carpentry/maintenance at Zion Benton-Township High School.

Danny also enjoyed woodworking, gardening, sharing tomatoes and cucumbers with friends and neighbors, playing ping pong, watching The Andy Griffith show, and eating at In and Out Burger!

Danny went home to be with his Lord and Savior on January 5, 2023.  He was preceded in death by his wife Nancy, his parents, and his sister Evangeline Willeman.  He is survived by four daughters: Melissa (Scott) Morrison, Jennifer (Jin) Sim, Carrie Diehl, Rebecca (Nathan) Parsons; 8 grandchildren (Collin, Samantha, Lauren, Ella, Oliver, Gretta, Logan, Kensi); his brother-in-law and sister-in-law (Randy and Patty Hough) and 6 nieces and nephews: Linda (Gene) Correa, Larry (Annie) Willeman, Lee (Lucie) Willeman, Lori (John) Stinnett, Emily Hough, and Hannah Hough.

A celebration of life service will be held on Saturday, January 14, 2023, at 3:00pm, at Indian Hill Bible Church, 36133 N. Fairfield Road, Ingleside, IL.  After the service, guests are invited to join the family for dinner in the Fellowship Hall.  In lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made to Indian Hill Bible Church, AWANA Children's Ministry. 

Thank you for being a blessing in our father's life. We are so grateful to the LORD for his faithful testimony and for the kindness of all of you.

"Well done, good and faithful servant... enter into the joy of your Lord." Matthew 25:21

Arrangements entrusted to Sambrano Funeral & Cremation, Gurnee, IL.  Please sign the guestbook at LauraSambranoFunerals.com; 847-571-7719.

[ibringyouasong89]

I think, if anything, Scully is being half serious and half joking. Half serious because, if started talking the way he usually rants in front of her, TLG, or Skinner, yeah, he’d be committed and it’s scary for both her and him (that they are consciously agreeing to that thought, mentally and emotionally, is “lksjdflksdjfksdjfjsdlfkjds”). I think there’s also the part where Mulder is also being half serious and half joking about that possibility and Scully can meet him at both sides of that, mentally and emotionally. Mulder, as usual, mixes seriousness and vulnerability with humor to deflect, but also to present his vulnerabilities (to Scully) in a non-defensive way...humor softens him. Scully, instinctively, understands that, and so she can quirk a small grin on pursed lips when agreeing with such a statement. And that’s what makes them, and their dynamic, so damn special - despite what CC and those damn writers would try and have us believe, Scully is Mulder’s REAL soulmate; the half that doesn’t complete him (nobody is REALLY incomplete without another person, however romantic and repetitive that particular message society has programmed into us via Hollywood, with their rom-coms and epic love stories, or the music industry or even through marketing), but compliments him and makes him understand himself, and the world, better. She makes him want to BE better and as much as Mulder could’ve gotten swept up by the romantic notion of Melissa Ephesian being a potential soulmate being reincarnated to briefly meet in passing in this life, it’s pretty much a sure thing that it would’ve never worked out and that her ties to him were exactly where they belonged - in the past, in a different life (and even then Scully was dying right there next to him, as his Lieutenant) and that for him to grow and become a stronger individual, and a better version of himself, he had to be with Scully; full stop.  Plus, as anyone else will tell you that is an avid fan of the show, there are a lot of issues with Mulder’s past life regression and the people he names as having contact with throughout those lifetimes, that don’t line up with specific timelines and events. Which, in hindsight, the writers might’ve done on purpose - in the hypnosis session with Dr. Werber - in order to highlight: One, Mulder’s romantic whimsy and the conscious suggestions which could’ve triggered these false past life memories or Two, that Dr. Werber was working for “Them” and was, in some way or another, planting false memories into Mulder’s mind so as to keep him from leaving the game of cloak and dagger that The Consortium was playing with him and his life. Very cat and mouse as usual and hard to prove...but in all honestly, if either theory were to be confirmed to be true, or even both to be correct simultaneously, I would not be surprised. 

lksjdflksdjflksdjfljsdlfkjds

[neopuff]

my favorite x-files episodes (in no particular order)

4x05 - The Field Where I Died

[baronessblixen]

So I just read your Antarctica angsty fic and saw you said you wanted to keep doing more angst. I’ve been craving a The Field Where I Died fic I looked up random angst dialog and came across ‘What are you trying to say?’ Super vague but a place to start! Happy fictober!!!

Thank you so much for the prompt! I hope I made it angsty 😁

Fictober Day 4 | Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022 | Wc: 1804

Dreams of the Past

The first few times he dreams about Scully, he ignores it. He doesn’t remember what they’re about, is only left with a lingering feeling. It fades quickly every time and makes room for everyday life, for what happens in daylight. Until one night when he dreams of her screaming.

She’s half sitting, half lying on a bed, being tended by strangers while Mulder stands in the doorway, grappled by fear. He watches Scully, still screeching, being told to push! push! but no matter how hard she tries, there’s no baby. There should be a baby, he realizes. Her stomach is protruding, bigger than he ever thought possible. They’re having a baby. His heart swells before it breaks into pieces.

“We’re losing her,” someone says. “What else can we do? What can we do?”

“There’s nothing we can do,” a man says, stepping away from Scully, who is only whimpering in agony now. “She will die.”

“No!” This time it’s Mulder who screams. A moment later, he finds himself in his bed, panting and sweating. Just a dream. It was just a dream. A nightmare. His ears are ringing and he can still see Scully clear as a picture, framed by dim candlelight, trying to birth their child. Mulder wraps his arms around himself, feeling the loss of the child, of his beloved wife. Scully. He reminds himself that it wasn’t real. That all he has to do is pick up the phone and call Scully to hear her voice. He knows she’d call him crazy and for once, she’d be right. Thinking about Scully calms him enough to lie back down. It’s just after 2 am, far too early to stay awake.

Not once since the Ephesian case a couple of weeks ago has he dreamed about Melissa Riedal. Up until now, he hasn’t even thought about her. Instead, Scully has been invading his dreams. He wishes he could remember the rest of them. He wants to know if all of them have been this devastating. Is he losing her in every dream he’s had? In every life they’ve lived? He shudders thinking about it. Closing his eyes, he wills himself to relax. As much as he doesn’t want to relive the moment – losing her – he wants to keep going. He wants to see what else his mind has to offer him. After all, he’s no stranger to pain.

It doesn’t take him long to fall back asleep. Once, as a student, he tried to get into lucid dreaming, hoping it might help him make progress in finding Samantha. Then he met Phoebe and everything went to hell. Including his dreams and the rest of his sanity. It has been years since he’s last tried it and while he’s aware that he’s fast asleep and dreaming, there’s nothing he can do.

He takes in his surroundings, the sparsely decorated apartment, the lack of TV, the metallic drumming of a radio in another room. He walks around, trying to find clues if he – his past self – lives here. There’s an eeriness in the air, alerting him to be careful. He stops in front of a room, the door closed. That’s where the music is coming from, he realizes. It’s an old tune, but he recognizes its melody. This must be the 1930s or 40s. His stomach plummets before he opens the door. His eyes land on her body on the bed, still and pale. Her lips are parted slightly as if she had tried to say something before death took her.

He sits up in bed, gasping for air. Not again. Not Scully. Her face was so devoid of color, of everything that makes her the woman he… but it was her. He knows it was her. He no longer cares that it’s the middle of the night. He needs to see Scully. Needs to know what she’s thinking. He needs to know she’s okay.

It’s just after 4 am when he gets to her apartment. He considers using his key, but he doesn’t want to freak Scully out. No more than him showing up here in the middle of the night will do anyway. He should have called, he thinks, as he gently raps on her door. There’s shuffling on the other side of it before Scully opens the door. He’s never been so happy to see her. Her hair is sleep-ruffled and her pajama crooked, but she’s never looked more beautiful to him.

“Mulder, what time is it?”

“Late. Or early, however you want to look at it.”

“What happened?” She asks stifling a yawn. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay,” he says truthfully, smiling at her. At least physically he is and he doesn’t want to talk about his dreams out here in front of her apartment. “Can I come in? I don’t want to wake your neighbors too.”

“Of course. Come on in.” He follows her inside, taking off his coat and shoes, while she walks into the kitchen.

“Do you want coffee? I think I’m going to make coffee,” she says, yawning again. Mulder watches her, amazed at how normal everything is. She’s moving around her kitchen barefoot, asking him questions that he barely hears. She’s here. She’s alive. She’s fine. He thinks of his first dream, of her dying in childbirth. He couldn’t help her, was helpless. Then, in the second dream, he was too late. Each time he lost her. In this life, right now, nothing is wrong at all.

“Mulder, why are you here?”

“I- I needed to see you.”

“Why? Is it a case?” She rubs her eyes, hiding another yawn behind her hand.

“Have you ever had nightmares that felt so real that you… that you had to make sure they weren’t?”

“Did you have a nightmare?” She asks him. “Was it about Samantha?”

“Why do you think- no, it wasn’t about Samantha.”

“Let’s sit down, Mulder,” Scully says with a sigh. “I’m still trying to wake up. Tell me what happened?”

“I’ve been having dreams,” Mulder begins, glancing at her. “Ever since the Ephesian case. About… I think I’ve been dreaming about my past lives.”

“Melissa Riedal,” Scully says. “You were dreaming about her.”

“No,” he says. “I’ve been dreaming about… you.”

“You said it was nightmares,” she says, her voice gentle. She puts a hand over his and he stares at it for a moment, relishing her touch. “Do you want to talk about them?” When he lifts his eyes to hers, he can see that she wants to know. But she doesn’t know what he’s seen.

“Mulder, they’re just dreams,” she assures him. “They’re not real. No matter what happened in them, it’s not real.”

“But that’s just it, Scully. It was real.”

“What are you trying to say?” She squeezes his hand.

“I believe that they weren’t just dreams. I think that- whatever my relationship with Melissa Riedal was in this life or any other, pales in comparison to what we have in every life. But that’s not why I’m here, or why I had to see you.”

“What did you see?”

“You didn’t have any dreams?” Mulder asks instead, not wanting to put her through what he’s experienced. Her screaming. The pain she must have endured.

“No,” she says softly, giving him a smile. “I can take it, Mulder. Just tell me. You were spooked enough to come here in the middle of the night.”

“Well, I am Spooky Mulder, aren’t I?”

“Mulder,” she warns. “I want to know.” He nods, preparing himself. He puts his other hand over their entwined ones, needing to feel her warmth and strength.

“Tonight was the first time that I woke up from my dreams. Maybe we were happy in all those other lives,” he says. “In my first dream, you were… you were in labor. You were screaming. You were screaming so much, Scully. There was blood, but… there was no baby. They couldn’t get to the baby. The doctor – I think it was the doctor – said you were going to die.” He hears her gasp and he looks at her. There are tears in her eyes and when one falls, he wipes it away.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have-”

“Mulder, I’m not crying for me. Or whatever version of me that you think you saw in your dream. I’m crying because you had to experience that. What was the second dream?”

“I don’t- I don’t really know. I was in an apartment. I think it was the 1940s. Maybe it was wartime. I don’t know. I found you- there was a room and you were in it, but you were, um. You were…” He can no longer stop his own tears from falling. He hears Scully whisper something and then she wraps her arms around him, holding him close. His tears land on her shoulder where her pajama top has slipped out of position. She cradles his head, her fingers in his hair.

“It’s okay,” she whispers with a kiss to his temple. “It was just a dream, okay? I’m here, aren’t I?” He nods against her shoulder, taking in her sleepy scent, her Scullyness. She’s real. This is not a dream and he’s holding her. But what if this life ends like all the others? With him unable to save her? With him always being too late?

“Your nightmares are not reality. We don’t know what the future will bring, but I’m here, right? Look at me.” He lifts her head and they’re close together. Her face is devoid of make-up, making her look impossibly young. He can see her beauty mark that she always covers up. But he knows her secret. He touches it softly, letting his finger drift lower to her lips. She lets him touch her, watching his every move.

“You see? I’m real.”

“You shouldn’t cover this up, Scully. You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she says. “Are you feeling better now?” He thinks about it for a moment and then he nods.

“Good. Do you think you can sleep some more?” She asks and he tenses. “I’m not sending you home. You can stay here, but I’m just so tired,” she admits with a shy smile.

“You sleep,” he says.

“What about you?” She yawns and gets comfortable right there with him on the couch, snuggling into his side.

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“Just another hour or so,” she says. “If you have another nightmare,” she says, turning to give him a sleepy look. “You can wake me.”

He knows he won’t sleep, but he nods anyway.

“Sweet dreams, Scully.” She smiles at him before she closes her eyes. Mulder holds her in his arms, content to feel her solid against her. He doesn’t need to dream when she’s right here with him.

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector's Edition: The Field Where I Fix-It Fic-ed

Ahhhh, The Field Where I Died-- quite an impressive idea, not quite an impressive execution. These fics, however, make me glad that it exists in its own, weird little corner.

Dedicated to the one anon that wanted a TFWID fic list~! :DDDD

Loose chronological order below~!

**Note**: Will ghost edit this post later. ;)))

eponine119’s I Do Not Want To Believe

""I was powerless to do anything but watch as he rose in the field next to me, his chest covered only by his thin blue shirt. No bulletproof vest to save his life. And I knew he was going to die.

Worse, I realized, he wanted to die. To be with her. So that history would repeat itself. What could I do? "Mulder!" I shouted at him as I had so very many times before. It was no use.

Cringing inside I watched. Waiting.

No shots rang out. He disappeared into the building.

No shots rang out. I ran after him.""

Post TFWID Scully realizes that CSM is the contradictory lynch pin to Melissa Ephesian’s story. Mulder, meanwhile, believes their own bond broke the chain that linked he and his “soulmate" in tragedy.  

@alienbaby-babymama/ABBM515’s Soulmates 

""You okay, partner?” Scully reaches out to squeeze his bicep. She’d seen the same forlorn look on his face during his hypnosis session.

“Although this didn’t end how any one of us wanted it to, it was nice to know.”

“Know what?”

“That I’m not alone,” Mulder turns to look at her, “and neither are you. Never one without the other. Kismet.”

“Even if I don’t believe in that line of thinking, I’d have to agree.""

Post TFWID Mulder is glad that he and Scully loved each other every lifetime; and is willing to wait for the “right” moment in this one. 

Nicole van Dam's Forgive and Forget

""Perhaps it wasn't the initial meeting that caused him to question her position as a new partner. Just the mere apprehensiveness that lived in him since he was a small boy. It only took a day, one day of her trying to convince him she wasn't sent to watch him; to gauge his work.

She was sent because it was just the way it was supposed to be.

How did he know to trust her to tell her his life; his problems; his fears? How did she?""

TFWID Scully is resigned to Mulder and Melissa's connection... but ponders more deeply on her own.

@wendelah/wendelah1/avesuvianface’s (Gossamer, LJ)

With Regret 

""The deep connection I feel to Mulder isn't because we knew one another in a past lifetime. Even if we had, what possible difference could it make?""

Post TFWID Scully has regrets. 

LuvMulder’s Tonight I Watch You Dream

""You sleep fitfully beside me as I write, your brow furrowed in the solitary pain I have witnessed so many times since I first walked through your office door. On this night, at this moment, high above the earth, I feel you dream; yet, for the first time since I've known you, I doubt it is Sam you see. Unconscious oblivion, the softness of night and shadow are but words, failed promises that bring you no peace as we head back to our lives, far removed from the grassy fields of Apison, Tennessee.

I'm glad to be going home. We deserve a week of bad coffee and boredom--alone--in the clutter of our basement sanctuary.

I need. I sense....questions.

My friend--are we forever changed?

I am so afraid.""

Post TFWID Scully feels like she’s failed Mulder, unable to take the same leaps of faith that he asks of her. 

@happenstanced's (Ao3) For Eternity 

""Scully, look at me.”

I lifted only my eyes, looking up from under my lashes. Tears must’ve formed and were threatening to fall because his expression softened more than I thought was possible.

Uncharacteristically, I blurted out the one thought that had consumed me.

“Did you mean it?""

Post TFWID Scully is avoiding Mulder’s eyes… and he calls her on it. 

Anne Haynes’s (Gossamer) Greater Meed

""She had known he would come to her to talk more about what had happened to him in Tennessee. She hadn't been sure when it would happen, but she'd known it WOULD happen. It was as inevitable as predestination.

He put the sack on her kitchen table and shrugged off his coat, folding it over the back of a chair. "It wasn't about past lives, was it?" he asked with no preamble.""

Post TFWID Mulder has a nagging thought that something is off… and realizes that CSM was already alive during WWII. He expounds about his "stuck" psyche with Scully over ice cream; and she assures him that, of course, his life does means something.

Thalia D'Muse's Day to Give Thanks

""Mulder placed the cassette in his pocket, his mind completely enraptured by the tiny book in his hand. It resembled other small pamphlet-style books one might see at the check-out counter, exclaiming 'Lose 5 Inches In 10 Days' or 'Your Astrological Forecast'.

But the title of this one threw him. The cover was a faded blue with a white seagull, its wings spread across the entire page. Dark blue letters across the top told Mulder the title: 'The Writings of Richard Bach'.""

Post TFWID Mulder turns down Thanksgiving with Scully to brood over his loss and confusion. One of Scully's books enlightens his outlook, giving him hope. 

Stephanie Lutz’s The Wheel 

""He tilted his head back and looked up into the night sky. There was no moon, no stars. Heavy storm clouds had closed in as the sun was setting, blocking any chance of romantic night lights. Appropriate, he thought. Was she out there, somewhere, waiting for him now? As if in mocking answer to his question a smattering of raindrops struck his face.""

Post TFWID Scully lets Mulder have space to process before forcing comfort and understanding on him. He wants to believe; but she reasons they’ll always find each other, no matter what. 

Meredith’s (Alt.) The Favor

""There are parts of that experience I can't let myself forget. My mind was influenced by outside elements, but in my regression I did see some truths. It's just taken me time to sort them out for myself."

She couldn't bear to ask which ones.

"She played a role," he continued in her silence, "and so did you. I just had to figure out where the truth ended and the deception began.""

Post TFWID Mulder and Scully assist Langly on a family member case involving a psychic. He’s already processed his feelings about the episode; and the two discuss how they get each other. 

story_monger’s Searching Souls - Chapter 1

""No, stop, what are you doing?” Scully snatches at the bills, but Mulder slides them out of her reach, and before Scully can react the bartender has swung past to scoop up the pile.

“You can owe me a pizza or something,” Mulder promises her. He touches at her back. “C’mon, it’s getting late.”

Scully putters her lips and slides off the stool. 

Post TFWID Mulder picks up and drives Scully home, rebutting her personal projection ideas and shocking her into believing his theory (even if only for one night.) 

Christina M. Simmons‘s Near Death Experiences 01 & 02

""Eyes stared up at her from the yellowed tint of an ancient photo. Eyes that could have been green, or grey, or blue. A young man in a Confederate uniform, stern-faced... barely thirty, if that. It was the eyes that captured her, though. The expression in them.

Skeptical.

As though he didn't quite believe the camera would work. As though he wouldn't be satisfied until he saw the finished print.""

Post TFWID Scully decides that eternity is not long enough to debate her and Mulder’s ideas, seeking proof in Sullivan Biddle's journal for Mulder’s sake (and her own.) When there is only evidence to the contrary, she is reassured by his easy acceptance of her unbelief.

stellar_dust’s (Ao3) Instinct, With Better Light

""... You weren't in love with her, in this life."

"No .. no, I wasn't. If we'd met under different circumstances, ... maybe I could have been. But you're right, I wasn't."

"She wasn't in love with you, either."

"No. But she wanted to believe.""

Post TFWID Scully suggests that maybe Mulder and Melissa Ephesian were trapped in a terrible cycle because they weren’t “meant” to be. 

@saintbellamys/starsonfire's First Dates and Soulmates

""A comfortable silence and then, "Do you ever think about it?"

Scully glanced at him with curiosity, her nose almost brushing his neck. "Think about what?"

"Our lives. If they could've been different. You told me once that it seems like there could only be one choice and the rest were wrong. There are signs and everything leads up to all these moments.""

Mulder takes Scully on their first date. While stargazing, he explains how wrong he his first soulmates theory was.

@sunsoakd/agenderleadingplayer’s I Wouldn't Change A Day

""And you know you're supposed to want to say yes. You know that part by heart know, know that she would want you to say yes –

Wouldn't she?

– but instead you think about it for a minute, a minute and a half, two. And the answer is no, because if you answered yes then who would she have? And you don't, you think, want to make it seem like you saved her from anything; you didn't, you didn't, she saved herself, you just helped when the tears came down too hard, but...

The answer is still...

"No." It's said with an exhale, an air of finality to it. No, I will not die for you, no I will never, because us, together, that's our whole deal, isn't it? Together. That's the deal, that always was.""

Scully asks (boyfriend) Mulder if he’d die for her. No; but Mulder knows she already has for him. 

RocketMan/Darkstryder’s Mine 01, Mine 02, Mine 03

""In one brief flickering instant I could see the pain all behind her eyes. If I hadn't been looking directly at those sharp blues I wouldn't have even seen it. But I did. Fear and pain and hurt. She hurt for me. No.......she is hurting because she thinks I couldn't be her soul mate.

Even Scully wants a soul mate.

"You're mine," I whisper....""

AU-- Post TFWID Scully feels cut off from Mulder, sad and lovesick. When he realizes, he quickly corrects her misconception… then almost bungles it further. (But that doesn’t stop them from living their lives out together, finally gaining the afterlife in the next.) 

Diadem’s Somewhere 

""It was special. We had to say goodbye the following morning, and neither of us wanted to leave the other behind. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we walked down the main street of the little town.

We started talking about the Ephesian case. I don't know how we got on to it, but suddenly Mulder was asking me if I believed in past lives and reincarnation.""

AU-- Mulder and Scully finally admit their feelings… and then Mulder is shot. As he dies, Scully insists they will get this right when she finds him again. 

@ghostbustermelanieking/skuls‘s a roll of stars and fade to black 

""All but the third, but the M.O. is the same for all the cases,” says Skinner. “Trace evidence proves that all three victims were at Forrester’s apartment at one point or another. It's open and shut. He lured these people into his apartment, drugged them, and kept them for hours before allowing them to return home. We have him on kidnapping and use of an illegal drug.”

Mulder turns over restlessly in bed, sheets tangling around him. “Do we know why he did it?” Scully asks, watching Mulder out of the corner of her eye. She is worried about him. First the attack by Samuel Aboah, and now this. They end up in the hospital entirely too much.

“The notes found at his apartment included recaps of the victims’ time at his apartment, based what seems to be some kind of past life experiences specific to each victim....” Skinner clears his throat awkwardly. “We're confirming this theory with the victims now.”

AU-- A rewrite of the episode: Mulder, druggily flashes back to his deathbed in another life-- Sergeant Sullivan Biddle at his bedside-- and uses those recovered memories to probe deeper. Scully and Skinner, meanwhile, try to make sense of and solve the case.  

Diana Alexander/Teresa Horne’s Not What It Seems 

""It had all happened so fast that it makes my head spin. In fact, the memory is only a blur. Though the thought of giving Mulder up tears my heart to shreds, I could've done it. I could've accepted that Angela was his soulmate eventually, and left them both alone. I could have gone out and gotten a life. He never would have been burdened by my feelings, and I would have gone on, no matter what the cost.

I felt a trickle of blood run down my neck and glanced down. The knife had grazed my neck before Mulder realized what his "beloved" Angela was about to do. He aimed the gun and shot her. It could have been merely a reaction, what he was supposed to do under the circumstances.""

AU-- Mulder’s soulmate puts a knife to Scully’s throat; which leads to a more personal (if implied) revelation for him. 

Erin M. Blair/Erin Blair’s Miss Series 04 - Miss You Four

""The truth is within our hearts and our love for each other.

I'm thankful that we're all together as a family. It will make us stronger somehow. When you told me of your epiphany that we were meant to be together, I knew then we were meant to be. I knew we were the true soulmates. Our souls connected through the spaces of time.""

AU-- S9 Mulder has returned with Will in tow; and spends his days, heart very full, watching his soulmate have everything she could ever have wanted out of life.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

[randomfoggytiger]

Maybe if they had prioritized the episode differently, too.

Scully would be gone most of the episode, on fire to stop Ephesian's diabolical plan; because her faith is a part of her and she despises those that weaponize it.

Mulder would be adrift without her rationality, stepping into muddied hypnosis waters with Melissa, her personalities, and imperfect channeling.

The episode would never confirm the past lives, only having Mulder recall echoes with imperfect clarity. No archive deep dive because there's not enough time to double check-- only chaos and death.

Scully would struggle with failure, nailing herself to her own cross; and Mulder would struggle with having the truth ripped from his hands again. The episode would end as a loss to them both without having to change much at all.

i wish the field where i died was a two parter because ... it needed more. (i know most of you probably think i'm crazy lol) i want more of ~scully's journey in this episode that isn't dependent on mulder's. i think her telling mulder she ~doesn't believe he feels responsible for those lives or melissa riedel, he's only responsible to himself~ was harsh (and just not true of what she & we know of mulder). and part of what i want just a little bit more about is her aversion to the past life regressions — the pain they cause. she's listened to mulder's regression about her sister. she tried once to learn about her abduction and couldn't go through with it. it isn't that she doesn't believe, but another case of she's afraid to believe. shes afraid of what she/they'll learn. she's such a ~sometimes it's better not to know~ and leave it in god's hands. and i LOVE when her logic really is pretty damn sound — why ephysian a sociopath for believing in a past life, but mulder isn't? why is his right & real? (which ... does this line of thinking have a base in religion for her too?)

i always want to see more of scully's religious faith in the religious cults episodes (i understand that's probably an unpopular opinion but i find scully's faith interesting & important and it's something i personally don't understand)

[lifewithaview]

The X Files (1993-2018)The Field Where I Died

When authorities receive a telephone tip from someone named Sydney, the FBI and ATF stage a raid at Temple of the Seven Stars, a religious cult the anonymous caller says is abusing children and has a cache of firearms. Mulder feels that he's been there before and has a powerful sense of deja vu. They arrest the cult leader Vernon Ephesian and several of his followers including one of his wives, Melissa Rydell Ephesian. They don't find the arms cache however and Assistant Director Skinner thinks they have less than a day to get some hard evidence or they will all be released. Melissa seems to be suffering from multiple personality disorder and has a personality known as Sydney, the person who made the call. In fact she has several personalities including a Southern belle who tells Mulder they were there for a Civil War battle. Mulder thinks she's recounting a past life.

[truthsaved-a]

mulder falls  ‘ in love ’  very easily.   i thought there was a term for this kind of behavior but unfortunately google didn’t reveal much other than stockholm or hero complex but it’s not really those.  this love is not really the same kind of love that one might expect such as how he loves scully or any other romantic partner.   but he falls in love with people involved in cases really easily.   or it seems that way to me.   some examples are like in s3 ep8  oubliette,   mulder feels very deeply for lucy householder,   a woman who had been kidnapped when she was a girl and escaped from the kidnapper,  who was now attached to his latest victim by feeling things that the kidnapper was doing to the young girl in the basement.   and even shown signs of suffering the same abuses like having been beaten up or dehydration,  etc.  mulder was extremely caring and gentle towards her the whole case long despite the other officer’s suspicions of her because of her troubled past due to the trauma of being abducted.   she’d been in and out of homes that assist those with addictions.   mulder is almost always the first to believe in nearly whatever the case is about,   so everyone thought it may be mulder just being mulder,   but his theory about lucy appeared to be true.   so,   when lucy ultimately succumbed to her injuries and mulder cried by her side like he’d known her his whole life,   that was truly the first time i’d noticed this.   

then in s4 ep5  the field where i died  with a woman named melissa riedal-ephesian,   mulder felt some kind of connection with her immediately.   so,  both he and the woman underwent regression hypnosis therapy.   they both believed they were married in a past life.   there were pictures of a man and woman who looked distantly like this melissa and mulder.   and since i haven’t watched the episode as recently,   i can’t remember as much but i just feel like mulder fell in love that easily.   

then in the episode i just watched,  s5 ep16  mind’s eye  with a woman named marty glenn,  who was blind,  experiences visions that prove to be from the eyes of the man who was her father.   the man who had also murdered her mother when marty was still in the womb and thus she had barely survived being born.   this marty was witness, through visions to other dealings of her criminal father that included two murders, which she confessed to as it was easier to explain than what was really occurring.   mulder saw through the act immediately and knew she was innocent.   he admits,  at one point,   to liking marty and not wanting to see her go through this.   as well as when he visits her in prison, after she finally murders her father for for all of the things he’s made her see,   mulder holds her hands through the bars and they share a moment.  

idk what all of this says other than mulder evidence to me that he was starved of love when he was younger.   he is so desperate to give of the love that overflows in his heart.   sometimes that shows in this weird way of becoming far too attached to the people that he helps on a case.  

[siamkram]

So what did the Druids know? Bees have long been considered divine messengers from the gods. And until quite recently in the Highlands and Islands, people thought that, when in sleep, trance or death, the soul left the body in the form of a bee – a belief that has clear druidic origins. Druids were trained in the art of the ‘soul-flight,’ by which they could journey to the Otherworld for knowledge from the spirits. They would probably have endorsed the tenet beloved of the mystery schools of the Near East: Si sapis, sis apis! – If you would be wise, be a bee!

Perhaps they also carried forth the tradition of the Great Goddess, for bees, whose lives are organised entirely around a single queen, have been sacred to the Divine Feminine for thousands of years, in ancient civilizations from Babylon to Rome. Bees were revered for their ability to pollinate flowers and crops, increasing the abundance of the Earth. The cultivation of honey was regarded as a sacred charge carried out with great reverence and ritual for it was seen as a precious gift from the Mother herself.

In the classical world, priestesses of many aspects of the Divine Feminine, including Rhea, Cybele and Demeter, were called ‘melissae’, which means ‘honey-bees’, for they served the Goddess as Queen Bee. At the Ephesian temple of Artemis, the melissae were accompanied by castrated priests who represented male bees or drones. Aphrodite’s shrine on Mount Eryx was shaped like a honeycomb, considered by the Pythagoreans to be a symbol of her qualities of love and harmony, because of its perfect hexagonal shape.

Source: http://chalicecentre.net/blog/what-the-druids-knew/

[pjstafford]

Unrest, child hood trauma and past lives. A review of Unruhe and Field Where I die. Blog 32 of The Disability in The World of the X-Files Series.

Following Home, The X- Files goes through a series of episodes which either barely references disability or relies on themes so familiar as to be almost unforgettable.

In Teliko, which is a variation of the earlier better episode Squeeze, a monster/man is killing men through robbing them of their melatonin but, except for a mention of albinoism, there is little discussion that would render this an episode in which disability is a concern.

In Sanguinarium, there is a brief mention of pica which is a disabling condition, but again as a throw away line.

In Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man there is the word paranoid or paranoia thrown around.

This leaves us to discuss Uruhe and Fields Where I Die.

Uruhe which is a German word for unrest is mostly an uninteresting episode precisely because it relies on tropes for its horrors and does not focus enough on the explanation or development of the more interesting paranormal psychic photography. The trope of Scully being in danger is done less well than in previous episodes. The fact that the killer (Jerry)believes in “howlers” which he describes as voices in your head might had been interesting but, again, was not given focus or development. Neither was the killer’s PTSD about whatever unnamed things his father had done to his sister. The interesting aspect, for the purposes of this blog, is the manner in which Jerry presents his illness when confronted with a reminder that he had beaten his father. He says, as a defense, that he was not jailed but hospitalized because he had a “sort of chemical unbalance.” It is interesting that he sees this as being persuasive that he cannot be a suspect in the abduction and murder of young women who, it turns out, he is killing to rid them of the same unrest his sister had before she committed suicide. There is much that could have been unpacked here about the correlation between the chemical imbalance of schizophrenia and the impact of early childhood trauma, but that is not this episode. Instead they relied on the fact that a man previously hospitalized, who seemed polite and well manner, was on a killing spree. Ho-hum, seen it before. Even Scully’s closing remarks in her field report about “to pursue monsters we must understand them” seems familiar. It is a less compelling variation of Mulder’s voice over in Grotesque. The summary for this episode could be that the mentally ill are scary and women often need rescuing.

As all the other episodes mentioned in this specific blog entry are lackadaisical and worn, Fields where I die is beautiful in its cinematography, musical score, and subject matter. Many fans hate it for a variety of reasons including that it strongly suggests that Mulder’s romantic soul mate is not Scully. Disability as a focus is strong in this episiode as an alternate theory. Does Sarah/Melissa have disassociative disorder, popularly called multiple personalities, or has past lifes surfaced to guard her from harm? The storyline seems to come down on past lifes but not definitively which we will discuss later. In this episode disassociative personality disorder is treated respectfully in tone and manner. Perhaps this is because it is an alternate to the more dominant theory in this episode of past lifes and so limited time is spent on it. They quote from the DSMIV and from legal precedent allowing personalities to be considered reliable witnesses. Considering how disassociative disorders are frequently portrayed in television/movies, this medical/scientific focus is refreshing.

An interesting aspect is that Melissa does not believe in her past lives despite belonging to a church which does believe in reincarnation. The charismatic church leader believes in past Iives and resurrection, without knowing about Melissa’s past lives, and believe that he has lived before and, yet, is seen as being insane for those beliefs. Mulder believes that Melissa and him have lived lifes together before, but doesn’t believe the church leader. Scully is given a brilliant line: “And why is it that Vernon Ephesian is, reported by you, a paranoid sociopath because he believes that he lived in Greece a hundred years ago, and you're not, even though you believe you died in that field?” This issue is never fully resolved. The end of the episode is very emotional with Mulder unable to convince Melissa to stay alive in this life and finding her dead in a house near where he had died in a field in a previous life.

This disability specific watch, though, has made me rethink this episode. This blog series has made me very aware that Mulder’s mental health has been brought into question repeatedly. Initially, the question of are people who believe in alien abduction crazy was a central theme of the series. Mulder would say, in relationship to that, “I’m not crazy, Scully.” In season three and four, the show has transcended that question and we the viewer know that, in the X-files universe aliens exist. There are a few episodes, though, that imply that Mulder’s obsessive behavior and life choices might mean he is more on the borderline of mental illness. There will be future episodes and references that seem to imply that he might have mental illness. So now I arrive at this episode with a different awareness and cannot so easily dismiss Scully’s line. It is possible that Mulder past life regression was flawed. Scully, I believe, could make this case and that Mulder was easily fooled by his desire to believe, his empathy for the other, and a mental health lapse in judgement. The line again: And why is it that Vernon Ephesian is, reported by you, a paranoid sociopath because he believes that he lived in Greece a hundred years ago, and you're not, even though you believe you died in that field?