#Three Words

[randomfoggytiger]

The Scully Family In-Depth (Part XXV): The Mulder-Scully Family, a Convergence of Fate and Freewill

Philes, we have arrived at the last part of the Scully Family series-- and what better way to end this than on a victorious high note?

A SYZYGY

Scully's journey to motherhood is complicated. In The Jersey Devil, she hasn't seriously considered children because she doesn't have a serious relationship. In Home, she draws pointed parallels between her mothering considerations and Mulder's genetic makeup (post here.) In Detour, she brings Mulder a celebratory cheese platter (assuming he'd taken the case to get out of the conference with her.) In Dreamland I, she longingly rambles about other people living normal lives with their houses and children and dogs. In Milagro, she uses Padgett as a means to grab Mulder's attention (posts here.) In The Unnatural, she brings tofutti rice dreamsicles, flirts about her partner's childhood, and happily joins him for a very early or very late birthday gift. (I posit that after The Unnatural, she runs to her doctor in hopes of discovering some slim chance to become pregnant; and this kicks off the IVF arc-- to be discussed below.) She and Mulder keep the family planning book in his office after their attempts fail (as glimpsed in Amor Fati and Brand X.) And she finds out she's pregnant right after her partner has been abducted by aliens.

That's not the full tangle of the IVF and William arc, though-- lest we forget who she was trying to have a baby with... and that Mulder has consistently refused to consider "a normal life" (and parenthood) each time the potential stared him in the face.

The Jersey Devil sets him up in direct opposition to "a normal life", Home shows him reinforcing that decision quite clearly (video here), and Detour and Emily double and triple down. Yet... he wants to be the father of Scully's baby during the IVF arc ("The-the answer is yes.") And he knows William is his-- "What we feared were the possibilities. The truth we both know"-- and is proud of that fact (in spite of the PTSD and drama at play, post here.) When, and why, did he change?

And because this is The X-Files, the tangle doesn't end there. In the previous part here I explored the failed convergence of fate and freewill in the birth, life, and death of one Emily Sim-- all in all, a failure to launch for Scully’s dreams of motherhood, normalcy, and partnership. In the wake of her daughter’s death and the loss of the X-Files, Mulder and Scully are forced to reassess the parameters of their relationship: Mulder has to confess (in his own way) to the nature of his reliance on and feelings for Scully, or lose her forever (Fight the Future); and Scully has to work through her self-doubts and trust to whatever lies between them (The End-Fight the Future.) Therefore, when Season 6 begins with a below-the-belt punch to both, they squabble and feel hurt (The Beginning) but ultimately magnetize back together (Drive.) Repeatedly (One Son-Agua Mala; Milagro-The Unnatural; Field Trip-Biogenesis.) It’s a push-and-pull, back-and-forth, give-a-little-get-a-little routine they settle into, allowing both the space to breathe, to test some boundaries, and to draw back and regroup whenever they so choose. This contributes to the buoyancy and low-stakes struggle of their personal relationship, especially compared to the world-ending tribulations (or professional bug bears) that dog them day in and day out. There are personal struggles of course-- massive ones-- but nothing that does not glue itself back together as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Still, there's one last key component in the Emily Sim, IVF, and William arc. Fate and freewill carry a huge, huge role in Mulder and Scully's work: particularly, the ways both view their work. @nachosncheezies put it quite succinctly: "That Mulder looooves free will, but especially when confronted with the big things he tends to falter - Samantha might have been taken by men based on his parents' choice; Scully's continued presence on the Files and beside him is a choice (and the horrors she suffers are not an inescapable Fate caused by her proximity to him, but something she chooses to endure and continue to risk, because she values the rewards). That Scully wants very much to believe that there's a greater power guiding things, but gets so shook when directly confronted with the notion that God might indeed have more control than she or the people around her." It's how Mulder chooses to view his work (telling Scully “I don’t think this is about justice, Scully. I think it's about fate" in Paper Clip); and how Scully chooses to view not just the work ("I need something to put my back up against"), but her choices and Mulder's choices and life's good and bad, gruesome and beautiful realities. Fate and freewill themselves are constantly locked in battle, weaving themselves into the narrative before getting snagged against each other and having to be unpicked. This is mainly due to the markedly inconsistent writing; but it's there, on purpose, to serve as the show's backdrop.

And under the fate vs. freewill heading, there is one last snarl we need to take into consideration: Melissa Scully and the impact of her legacy on Scully's personal journey. It's Melissa who encourages her sister to "follow your heart, and it'll take you where you're supposed to go" in A Christmas Carol; it's Melissa who speaks for her sister in One Breath, it's Melissa who tells her sister Mulder is still alive and warns her she's "shut off from her own intuition" in The Blessing Way, it's Melissa who died in her sister's stead, it's Melissa who leads her sister to her daughter from the afterlife, and it's Melissa's influence that leads her sister to her own voice and conscience in all things. Melissa acts as the bridge between Fate and Freewill: the heart is destined for something, someplace, somewhere; but you must choose to listen to and follow it to find where you're supposed to go. As @deathsbestgirl put it (post here), "but missy's presence is still felt, her influence on scully outlives her. scully is always trying to reach melissa, to feel her. melissa is always guiding her, and as scully moves further on her path (with mulder), allows herself to learn more about what happened during her abduction/because of her abduction (something melissa wanted her to do shortly before her death), like with emily and the red & the black...every step brings her close to melissa."

So: when do these ideas-- Scully's journey, Mulder's journey, the battle of Fate and freewill, and Melissa Scully's legacy-- culminate and begin to manifest in the Scully Family Series?

The answer: the IVF arc.

THE STARS ALIGN… AND FALTER

Where does the IVF arc fall? That can be debated until the end of time; but for me personally, the only math that maths adds up to a late Season 6 timeline (post here)-- right in the midst of rule breaking and negotiations; and right after Mulder’s perspective begins to shift, allowing him to see the possibility of “life on this planet.” 

Scully’s second attempt at motherhood quickly devolves into the same pattern as the first. Struck one day with the urge to retest her fertility (after a very early or very late birthday present, I suggest), she rushes off to a (seemingly last minute) medical checkup. Scully books an appointment without telling her partner (despite her hopes immediately revolving around him when she gets a positive second opinion-- which means, he was on her mind when she booked the first one, as well.) Further, when Scully returns to the FBI, dispirited, she attempts to deflect his inquiries after Mulder catches up with her in the elevator. But he won’t let this go; and she sighs, admits she’d been at the doctor’s office, then drops into silence. 

“Don’t make me guess,” Mulder quips, afraid it’s cancer. 

Skipping over Per Manum’s dialogue gaffe-- one which contradicts Emily’s timeline-- we arrive at the revelation: “I am not yet ready to accept I won’t have children,” she admits. 

Mulder begins to walk away, but gives in to his conscience, turning back to explain, “Scully, there’s, um, there’s something I haven’t told you-- and I hope you would forgive me and understand why I kept it from you.”

Tense and confused, Scully asks, “What?”

“During my investigation into your illness, I found out why you were barren. Your ova were taken from you and stored in a government lab.”

And while this, too, could fall into showbible blunder, Scully’s next line salvages it: “What? You found them?” puts the stress on 'found', implying her shock comes from his discovery more so than the details he’s sharing. 

“I-I took them directly to a specialist who would… tell me if they were okay,” he replies, softly, head down and unable to meet her eyes: because they weren’t okay. Scully is too distraught to make this connection, yet. 

“I… I don’t believe this--” 

“Scully, you were deathly ill and I… I couldn’t bear to give you another piece of bad news.” Mulder finally looks up, ashamed but sincere. 

Devastated, she’s pulled up short. “Is that what it was, it was bad news?” 

He nods, blinks, maintains eye contact as he slowly explains, “The doctor said that the ova weren’t viable.”

Immediately, Scully distances herself from this pain, punching the elevator button and insisting, “I want a second opinion.” 

Mulder, knowing what his partner’s doing, tries to stop her-- physically reaching out to block the doors from closing-- but gives in when Scully flinches, then shoots him a pleading look: if she doesn’t collect herself alone, she will fall apart. Giving in (what else can he do? his actions have hurt her deeply), he lets her go. 

Scully’s quest for family is once again stymied by the Consortium; and she is spared, once again, from the traumas of tampered motherhood. 

After an undetermined time later, Dr. Parenti joins her in the waiting room with good-- for him-- news: “Ms. Scully, I’ve got a good report for you. I’ve looked at the ova you’ve given me and consulted with some of my colleagues; we all feel that, with the proper approach, it might be successful.”

And that’s the insidious, despicable underbelly to the IVF arc: Dr. Parenti spoke with his colleagues about one Dana Scully-- i.e. he, the Consortium plant, knew exactly who she was and exactly what this vial of ova meant. 

And he, Dr. Parenti, was likely going to use her ova and her womb for his benefit; and if he and his colleagues felt generous, he'd grow her real, replacement child in a tube somewhere to swap with at birth (like he did with Kathy McCready.)

Now: could Scully have had a perfectly normal IVF pregnancy, a one-in-a-million shot that wasn’t tampered or interfered with?

Put bluntly, no:

Dr. Parenti’s clinic was an extension of the arm of the Syndicate, either carrying out his own experiments with their permission or carrying out a niche of their experiments for them. 

The Consortium crumbled in One Son, but vestiges remained-- carrying out CSM’s directives in En Ami and Requiem, and leaving their research facilities scattered, here and there, undetected. 

Parenti worked out of one of these research facilities; and, whatever his "research" had been before the Syndicate’s collapse, it couldn’t have been much different than it is when Scully and Doggett investigated him in S8. 

Further, even if Scully came to his clinic sometime before or after One Son, his purposes were already set in place; and like Scanlon and Calderon, he could, in all probability, take the evidence and disappear into thin air if detected. Meaning, he is ruthless and one-track minded. 

Meaning, Scully’s chances-- which were nil because of the ova’s unviability-- were most certainly tampered with: either to produce another half-formed alien child-- which he might swap with a test tube baby with varying degrees of health-- or to sabotage any chance of success. And, unfortunately, if he wanted to do the latter, he would simply have said there was no chance of success, at all. 

As much as the IVF arc appeals to me, the fact that Parenti walked into the room with a malicious glint in his eye, declared there to be a chance after he consulted with his colleagues, and knew full well who those were and how Scully factored into their equation… there is no way, shape, or form that Scully’s pregnancy would have avoided trauma of some sort: miscarriage; induced labor, perhaps unconscious C-section, and a baby swap; or death. 

Unaware of these odds, Scully collapses in a chair; and before she can process this news completely, Dr. Parenti begins to pressure her for a now, now, now timeline: the odds would be better the sooner they started. Another hint at his greedy machinations. 

“We can start right away?” she asks, stunned-- and, again, her pattern kicks in: hurry, hurry, hurry; don’t think; this is the right thing to do; run; go, go, go. 

“Well, you’d need a father,” the doctor advises; but Scully’s face falls at ‘anonymous donor’, her eyebrows pinching and her eyes dropping at the realization that she’s going to have to ask Mulder to be that donor. Of course she is; and that certainty makes her immediately uncertain of his reaction. “Unless you have someone in mind?”

“Yeah. I, uh….” The music drops, uneasy. “I just have to figure out how to ask him.” 

Mulder’s acceptance, Scully’s reaction; and Mulder’s comfort, and Scully’s tears I’ve already been recorded here; but it bears repeating for this analysis, if in brief. 

We aren’t shown the moment Scully asks for Mulder’s help; but we are shown his shiny eyes and shy eagerness, her anxious timidity and teary delight when he accepts. Mulder comes through that door ready to have a part of that “more” his partner is seeking-- in short, to be a father. Scully mistakes his breathless premise as rejection, and reveals (with her down-turned eyes and crestfallen, “I should have known” expression) that she doubted he’d ever accept this request; or, more accurately, doubted he’d want to change their partnership. It’s part and parcel-- she believes-- of the one step forward, two steps back jig they’ve been doing recently; but it also hits her in the pain point that his turn-aside in Emily (“Are you two the parents?”) created.  

“Th-the answer is yes,” he assures, poking at her arm; and her face transforms into varying stages of overwhelmed delight, unable to believe he wants this, now, with her-- that he wants to share this with her-- quite literally wants to take part in this with her.

And, I believe, both know what this truly means: that Mulder is signing on to be an active father. Despite turning aside from Emily Sim, he did his utmost to protect and save her. That was a responsibility he was thrust into, and one he didn’t turn away from... but one he chose to keep distance from, as well. There is no distance here: “the answer is yes”, after all. 

Again, I shall briefly touch on the moment they receive devastating news (and, again, the post is linked above.) 

Mulder is napping on Scully’s couch, waiting for her return from her appointment. She isn’t surprised, necessarily, to see him there; and he makes no bones about the fact he “must have dozed off” as time crawled by. Seeing her sad face, hearing her defeated, “I guess it was too much to hope for”, he gathers her up in his arms, comforts his partner during her wailing, “This was my last chance!”, and promises her, “Never give up on a miracle.” Mulder has learned to believe in this possibility, and he doesn’t want to let that belief go. 

Already, we see the blurred lines of their partnership: 

After her request and his acceptance, Mulder greets Scully at her apartment-- a marked change in routine from their usual meeting spot (his apartment or the basement.) 

Mulder is just as anxious and excited as she is at the possibility of success. 

And though her “last chance” has failed, he refuses to let the idea of her having a child and achieving her dreams go-- they came this close, he assumes, on the rarest of chances. What’s to say they won’t again? 

Scully, meanwhile, has her own tells: 

She is not (too) surprised to find Mulder in her apartment, despite both of them meeting (more often than not) at his place. 

She clings to him and cries on his shoulder-- the third time in their partnership (Irresistible, Fight the Future, Per Manum.) 

Not only does she cling to him and cry openly, she does so in stark contrast to her previously closed-off emotions (in Emily, and in the beginning of Per Manum’s flashbacks.)

She almost kisses his forehead-- a callback to her authoritative claim in Fight the Future; and one she does not repeat until she reaffirms that claim in Amor Fati-- but ducks at the last second, and vaguely lands on his cheek. 

She allows herself to be consumed by his soothing hug.

In conclusion: neither person was denying what this was to them-- a chance at their own form of a normal life, a bit of hers and a bit of his all blended together in one perfect, successful last chance. But, alas, that was not to be. (And, considering Dr. Parenti’s intentions, that was a good thing.) 

A second attempt; but the first joint failure. 

A “NORMAL LIFE” DEFEATS FATE

And here we reach the grand conclusion of the question of freewill versus fate. 

As previously discussed, Mulder views his quest in righteous terms-- Fate-- to bear up under it; while Scully decisively argues her position in factual terms-- Freewill-- to make sense of it.

“This child was not meant to be,” he warns about Emily; and “Don’t give up on a miracle”, he encourages after the IVF: both statements are lacking perspective and personal agency.

“I don’t see what choice I have," she responds about the adoption; and “I guess it was too much to hope for," she mourns after the IVF: both statements are laced with insecurity and defeat. 

The lingerings of these resolutions are resolved in Amor Fati and all things, respectively. Mulder solidifies his “life on this planet” after being dragged into the bowels of “another life, another world.” It is Conscience, personified by Scully, who confronts his weakness, calling him a coward and leaving him to make an active choice of his own freewill. Mulder chooses to leave behind bigger aspirations, higher callings, greater, inactive purpose to open his eyes to the true world-- the truth-- and cling to her: an integration of freewill. She is, he realizes, his touchstone. Scully solidifies her decision to stay with Mulder-- not the files, not the work, not their romantic relationship-- after being given a chance to take another path. And it is Conscience, personified by the running woman-- revealed to be Mulder-- who confronts Scully’s self doubt and directionless spiral, leading her one step at a time to her own resolution and peace. Scully chooses to let go of her doubt and indecision, trusting in her instincts to guide her: an integration of fate. He is, she realizes, where she belongs.

Both of these journeys finally sync up in all things: Scully tells Mulder about talking to God and falls asleep, Mulder rambles about paths not taken and tucks a blanket around her. And Scully of her own freewill joins Mulder in bed; and together they create their own miracle-- a sprinkle of fate and a boatload of personal choice. 

William, then, is a perfect combination: not because he is an alien super soldier or a divine proof of God or a result of the corrupt, freewill actions of other forces or "the key to everything" fated into existence through White Buffalo prophecy to save the world (@deathsbestgirl thoughts and post here), but because he is human. Normal. A miracle because he is not at all what anyone except Scully and Mulder expected him to be.

“We feared the possibilities,” Mulder acknowledges while holding his days-old son. “The truth we both know.” 

“Which is what?” Scully asks-- also one guided by definitives. 

And he gives her one-- a kiss-- to mark this new chapter of their lives. 

What is that new chapter, you wonder? 

In Requiem, Mulder and Scully miss sign after sign of her pregnancy, fearing she is suffering from close proximity to an abductee ship. She shuffles to his hotel room, sick and weak; and he tucks her up and whispers, “There has to be an end, Scully.” 

Mulder is a man of half-sentences and vague meanings: there has to be an end for Scully, for all she’s sacrificed.

“I want you to go home”, he admits.

“Oh, Mulder, I’m fine,” she whispers; but it’s not the full truth. 

"No, no, I've been thinking about it: looking at you today holding that baby... knowing everything that's been taken away from you. The chance for motherhood--" Scully's face scrunches in pain: she can't pretend this wound has healed, "--and your health and that baby. I think that... y'know, maybe they're right." Mulder speaks gently, contemplatively: and though this moment is focusing on Scully's losses, there is more going on-- particularly in Mulder himself.

"Who's right?" Scully asks, waveringly.

"The FBI," he answers plainly, sorrow and realization blending together."

Scully doesn't respond, brows wrinkling in confusion.

"Maybe what they say is true-- but for all the wrong reasons. It's the personal costs that are too high."

Scully doesn't respond, again: more importantly, she doesn't deny. And although she doesn't agree-- although she's stuck in worried limbo, afraid for her health, stumbling over the fact of her infertility-- she seems to be considering his words, or the intent behind them. Even more importantly, Scully doesn't know what Mulder's point is: that she resign? That they resign together? Is he turning over a new leaf just when she's learned to accept her choices and his ways for what they are?

Like Elegy, both are “afraid of the same thing”: that the final toll of this quest will consume Scully. (Just as they "feared the possibilities" in Existence.) She tries to escape this sense of doom by working, by nearly fighting her partner to go back to Bellefleur when Krycek and Marita show up dangling special intelligence. Mulder, however, is tired of loss, tired of years and years without closure. He floats the idea of leaving, for her sake; and doesn’t push it farther. But it’s on his mind, her health and her happiness; and her health and her happiness, he ruminates with mature clarity, might not be sold in bulk at the FBI. On the flip side, Mulder doesn’t float the solid idea of him leaving, too: he hasn’t let go: he's yet to make a decisive choice to leave (ala Vienen.)  

Mulder returns to Bellefleur; and Mulder is abducted right before Scully finds out she’s pregnant. 

There’s a deeper dive to be had regarding Mulder’s rewritten demise in Requiem and second rewritten death in Three Words. Be that as it may, Mulder is forced onto the alien spaceship; Mulder is tortured for long months against his will; and Mulder is “killed” and buried before he can learn about the existence of his child. Here, again, is the Fate conundrum: Mulder's "fated" quest lays claim to him now that he begins to contemplate another path. As for Scully, she decides to fight-- and fight hard-- to get her partner back, railing against Kersh’s edicts, throwing water in Doggett’s face, asserting her authority over extraterrestrial life, and leading the charge in her own efforts to locate the spaceship.

She almost loses her baby, three times, due to the stress and drive of her choices; yet, Mulder still “dies”-- Fate, it seems, has won. But Mulder is alive (through Skinner's choice); and her hard work pays off when he blinks awake. 

In short: Mulder and Scully beat the machinations of Fate-- he outlasted the torture and death intended for him; and she fought back against others’ intent for her partner, the files, and their child.

A brief note on Scully’s Season 8 pregnancy: in A Christmas Carol, Emily, and Per Manum, we see her throwing caution to the wind to grasp after second chances, unwittingly falling into traps in a vain attempt to capture happiness. In Requiem, Within, Without, and Roadrunners, however, she's pivoted priorities, ruthlessly upping the ante to reclaim her partner, thrusting herself into dangerous situations without first taking the baby’s life into account. It's the same, though inverted, psychological underpinnings: desperation, motivation, and determination. She had to face motherhood alone with Emily Sim; and she was able to face the IVF failure with Mulder’s support. But carrying Mulder’s baby to term and raising it, alone, is another thing; and one she is aware comes with a predetermined end date on the files. Scully justifies the risks and peril-- at first-- in Mulder’s name. Scully bandies about the country trying to keep the files going in her partner's stead, for his return; but the truth is, she is using the files to escape from her reality. And as she finds out in Alone, Scully’s also unable to let the files go-- which surprises her (even though she'd previously refused to let them go during the three months her partner was buried. Perhaps Scully's self-awareness was out to pasture, as often happens when she's buried under stress and grief, e.g. Beyond the Sea, Irresistible, Memento Mori, Elegy, etc.)

This proves a few things: 

As much as Scully proclaims she “wants to settle down, have something approaching a normal life”, and as much as Mulder insists she should go (Fight the Future, Requiem), Scully can’t or won’t leave until it feels right. “Follow your heart, and it’ll take you where you’re supposed to go,” Melissa told her, once (post here); and she was completely correct about her sister. 

As much as Scully committed to leaving the FBI for Emily or the IVF’s sake, she wasn’t ready either time; and was pushing that thought away with countdown clocks and ticking time bombs. 

Scully chose to stay on the files for the entirety (or most) of her pregnancy; and drifted back on maternity leave, conflicted. Saving Doggett’s life one last time and meeting Agent Leyla Harrison assured her that there will always be more believers to take up the cause. She is convinced her decision to leave was the right one, and lets that part of her life go in good conscience.  

It's Three Words, and Mulder is alive! All, however, is not smooth sailing. He is alive but withdrawn, riddled with wounds and PTSD; and Scully is confused and hurt, riddled with guilt and expectations. 

Three Words unfolds, and they get through it together; Empedocles unfolds, and Mulder begins to embrace his role as ‘the father’; Vienen unfolds, and Scully is vexed that her partner ran off to a potential death without remembering his child; Vienen resolves, and Mulder quits; Alone unfolds, and Scully is drawn back to her work while Mulder keeps drawing her away from it; Alone resolves, and both have relaxed into their role as X-Files retirees and impending parents. Mulder chooses to leave, and has taken steps to solidify that choice; Scully realizes she hadn't let go, and makes with her transition.

Yet, we have the madness of Essence and Existence.

The question-- for Mulder at least-- of Fate or Freewill hasn’t been sufficiently settled: in Essence’s opener, he ponders, "But has our ingenuity rendered the miracle into a simple trick? In the artifice of replicating life can we become the creator? Then what of the soul? Can it too be replicated? Does it live in this matter we call DNA? Or is its placement the opposite of artifice, capable only by God? How did this child come to be? What set its heart beating? Is it the product of a union? Or the work of a divine hand, an unanswered prayer, a true miracle? Or is it a wonder of technology, the intervention of other hands? What do I tell this child about to be born? What do I tell Scully? What do I tell myself?" Scully, predictably, doesn’t want to entertain more doubts or heartbreak after her previous scares; and has stuck her head decidedly in the sand (i.e. The Blessing Way, Memento Mori, etc.) That child is his, he knows (post here); but Fate, he feels, has played cruel tricks before. There are already two metaphorical graves for Scully’s children; and another one either grown from a tube or destroyed with Calderon’s abominable experiments. 

The show boils the entirety of (then) canon down to its essential themes: the truth they both know, but the possibilities they fear; Mulder wants to believe, and Scully's afraid to believe.

As previously mentioned, Mulder is caught up in doubts, then conspiracies; and he flails around for answers. When he rushes to her apartment and tries to help her pack, Scully becomes more and more heated at his non-answers.

"No, just stop! Can you tell me what's wrong? Is it something to do with my baby?'

"No," he assures gently, "your, your baby is fine." Then his gravitas shifts, and he adds hurriedly, "It's you who's in danger now, Scully."

"From who? Mulder, from what?"

"I don't know--" that's not enough for Scully, nor her anxiety, "--I'm not sure. I'm not sure about anything. I just know I got to get you out of here."

Finally, she yells, “Look, Mulder, look, I can't take this! I can't live like this—as, as the object of some unending X-File.”

Mulder, pushed to his extremis, finally tells her what she needed to hear for most of their partnership and especially after her pregnancy, his death, and his resurrection: “This isn't about the X-Files, Scully. It is only about you. Now, you are going to have this baby and I'm going to do everything I can to protect it.”

These two statements speak volumes: Scully and Mulder have both chosen to put the files behind them.

Why is this so important? Because for the first time in each pit stop towards parenthood-- towards expanding the Scully family, if you will-- this baby and its safety is not an x-file for Mulder, is not another life that wasn’t meant to exist; and this baby is not an x-file for Scully, is not tied to a traumatic, stolen moment from her past. She wants one area of her life to be free from conspiracy and collusion; and he wants the baby (and Scully) to be safe, once and for all.

We’ll keep Existence brief because its nonsensical, illogical, and frankly stupid writing decisions could be studied as a “How Not To” guide. After sending Scully away due to his fears (and relapse into a Freeze response, post here), Mulder comes to his senses and flies out to Georgia, arriving too late to prevent any real danger and missing the birth of his child. Scully, meanwhile, gives up; and allows herself to be schlepped away to the middle of nowhere, giving birth before an audience of unfeeling monsters. Suffice to say, despite multiple factions breathing down their necks and insisting this child is a proof of God or a weapon for or against the planet, William’s birth confirms that he is, indeed, a normal child: a plot twist to Fate and the creatures who attempted to play god. 

If we tune down the unnecessary noise, one key detail sticks out: Scully did not know the sex of her baby. When trying to barter for her baby's life, a mother will do anything to humanize her child to its threat. That action is one with the highest chance of success-- and a medical doctor trained in the FBI would know this. In fact, we've seen Scully use this technique before (ex. in Monday with Bernard.) Yet, she doesn't: she pleads for "my baby" and "please don't let them take it." 'It' is the clearest sign of her ignorance (and was purposefully written that way, I believe-- a two-fold "What is the sex?" and "Will the baby be taken before Scully herself knows?" dose of climax anxiety.)

But does this theory hold up under closer scrutiny?

We know Scully is shown the sex in Per Manum, but that is revealed to be a false result intended to deceive her. There was so much confusion afterward about real babies and alien babies that it was a mess to sort through; and Scully switched doctors, regardless, to ensure her safety.

She likely didn’t want to know anything more after this point, refusing to acknowledge that something might be wrong. This is in line with many, many other examples of her almost blind avoidance when confronted with a truth she doesn't want to face.

When Mulder mentions the connections to Parenti’s clinic in Essence, she tries to shut the conversation down; and when he replies, "That's-that's all I'm trying to do. Just make sure nothing happens to you; that this baby you're carrying is born without any surprises”, she stares him down angrily-- further proof Scully won't entertain these thoughts willingly.

“What we feared were the possibilities,” Mulder confirms in Existence: Scully had those fears, too. Avoiding the sex would be a way to put her fingers in her ears and experience a “normal”, profoundly uninteresting last two trimesters-- “Didn't you have to wait with us?” she tells Maggie. 

An that brings me to another interesting note: her behavior is not dissimilar to Bill Scully setting up shop in an exact replica of his childhood home, trying to copy and paste those traditions for his own family-- which included decorating the nursery in his sisters’ “old” room. In other words: he was recreating Melissa’s past (their past) without referring to her death, just as Scully is escaping fearful possibilities by recreating a the ignorance of the nostalgic past. “You keep things so bottled up,” Maggie worries (post here); and she is deadly accurate. 

Back at Scully’s apartment [x] days later, Mulder arrives; and, for the first time that we see in the series, opens her door with his own key (post here.) 

This is incredibly significant. It cannot be overstated. Scully’s own mother hired a baby nurse to assist her daughter because Scully’s privacy is so finely tuned that Maggie knew she wouldn’t want guests over. Mulder himself only ever dropped in after a knock at the door, even after his resurrection. And, although he had things of his at her place (in all things, @unremarkablehouse and @touchstoneaf's post here) and she had things at his (in Orison, post here), the two hadn’t solidified their cohabitation. Until now, when he waltzes in, greets her guests comfortably, and strolls in to meet and hold his son. And Scully looks up, smiles blissfully, and hands their child over. 

Mulder is enamored, is in awe of his baby; and that look of bliss and wonder is everything Scully could have hoped for.

“William,” she names, after Mulder's father-- a man who bucked the Consortium as much as he could (post here), who gave up and gave in (post here), and who decided, of his own freewill, to own up to his mistakes at the last (post here.)

In short: a shot at Fate. 

After laughing at her partner's shot at Skinner, Scully questions, "I don't understand, Mulder-- they came to take him from us-- why they didn't."

“I don't quite understand that, either. Except that maybe he isn't what they thought he was.” Another shot at Fate. “That doesn't make him any less of a miracle, though, does it?” A third shot at Fate. 

Encouraged, she smiles. It slips as she admits, "When I became pregnant, I feared the truth." More evidence of her head sticking firmly in the sand. "About how. And why. And I know that you feared it, too."

Mulder has an answer already-- he's given this thought since William's birth. "I think what we feared were the possibilities. The truth we both know."

“Which is what?” she asks; and he leans forward and shows her: the final blow. 

Fate is soundly defeated: Mulder, the boy who lost his sister, who set aside a life to find the Truth, has found happiness away from it-- has chosen his own truth. Scully, the woman who chose then doubted her choices, has obtained peace-- has chosen to leave the files after finding her truths, too.

Not only is this ending the culmination of their journey to parenthood, but it also resolves their character arcs: life on this planet, something resembling a normal life, and a manifestation of a bond and willpower stronger than death. 

Last but not least, it also encapsulates the journey’s of each of their family’s legacy-- and on a more personal level, the culmination of their sister’s legacies: Samantha Mulder’s gifted closure (post here) and Melissa Scully’s intuitive guidance (posts here, here, here, and here.)

(But what if William had been inexplicably magical? What if he had had alien powers; or was a creation for and fulfillment of higher purposes? What if he was, in short, the key to everything? 

Then Fate would have won the debate: William was the key to everything; and would be hunted down or chased until evil is defeated, or he saves the world. As Mulder and Scully conclude in The Truth's ending speech:

“I want to believe… that if we listen to what’s speaking, they can give us the power to save ourselves.”

“Then we believe the same thing.” 

In other words, Fate is predetermined; and humanity will be destroyed if they don't listen to and heed its warnings and thunderings. Which would effectively destroy eight years of build-up and resolution: Fate as a tempered option, Freewill as a vehicle for growth and change, Conscience as the deciding factor. It would destroy Mulder and Scully's individual and mutual arcs, their son's conception and birth, their sisters' losses and legacies, their families' virtues and faults, failures and victories. In short: it would be a complete mess.)

CONCLUSION

And that brings us to the conclusion of the Scully Family In-Depth series! 

Thanks for reading!

Enjoy~

[promptsbytaurie]

dialogue prompts: three words

!!please credit/tag me if you use any! I'd love to see what you write!!

"Power breeds corruption."

"Come here, dumbass."

"Did you care?"

"Hey, it's fashion."

"I can't die."

"You love me?"

"Sir, you're dying."

"Yep, three masters."

"You ignored me."

"I'm very concerned."

"Come on, dance!"

"You were... lying."

"Shhhh, come here."

"Three more hours."

"I was yours."

"Everything ends, eventually."

"Cereal is soup."

"Can't you see?"

"I wanted everything."

"You didn't listen."

"Can I sit?"

"Let me talk."

"Woah, you're dead?"

"Hold onto this."

"She clouds judgement!"

"Don't love me."

"One more chance!"

"I suffered alone."

"Could we try?"

"She was mine."

"You. Are. Disposable."

[is-on-its-way]

The moment Mulder quits

A point in which Mulder was ready to quit the minute he saw Scully hold a baby in season 7 and its effects in season 8

*this is my headcanon, its not gospel obviously Firstly, two scenes that are very linked in my head

Season 7 Ep 22 Requiem and Season 8 Ep 16 Three Words

Look at that face. That dead serious, at all costs face.

Season 7

Requiem. The culmination of Scully and Mulder's secret yearish? long quest for a baby. They've tried for a baby with IVF already. Mulder has promised her he wont give up on a miracle for her and they're well... trying basically, throughout season 7. Perhaps I would call it "hoping" for a baby. Maybe Mulder is hoping and Scully is characteristically ambivalent? Fully not using any contraceptives and I know there's a fic in there somewhere, anyway

The first scene above is why Ive never watched past the season 8 finale. nothing past them agreeing to be a family makes any sense because of Mulders face here. People knock Duchovny for not showing out when acting, but I will always be a defender of subtle acting. The way he can say an entire monologue of dialogue with the minute expressions on his face is quite breathtaking here.

Hes goes from sorrow at Scully not being able to have a baby, sorrow at her loss, sorrow at not being able to give her that; to regret at what he thinks is all his fault, at dragging her into this life; to pure love and affection for her seeing this baby in her lap and how good she is with him; and then a smile peaks out. A smile of hope that could compete with the Mona Lisa. Hope for their future and the certainty with which he knows what he wants so clearly, maybe for the first time in his life. His own family.

Like for the first time hes really deciding the cost is too much and he chooses her over the mission. He chooses their future over everything. And he's hopeful and perhaps even happy about it. which for someone with his amount of family trauma is a seismic shift. For so long he's chased the past in hope of fixing it, completely discombobulated and reckless in his search for well, his family.

Though, from the beginning of that moment in the rainy graveyard, he has slowly unconsciously coming to regard Scully as his family. In small gestures, a hand on her cheek or voicing out loud how important she is to him; to big gestures, giving up who he believes is his actual sister to save her.

We are lucky here, to be able to witness the moment the sparks of unconscious thought bloom into the flame of certainty. He follows up as well. Tells her she has to stay, that the cost doesn't outweigh the price anymore. Sure he wants to finish out this case, but he doesn't work without her, thats been established. Him telling her to stop, is his resignation as well. (There's a fit there too, with Skinner and him on the plane probably Skinner already knowing he's done.)

Thomas Flight praises subtly in acting better than I could ever articulate here:

Season 8

Mulder was weird and the PTSD was implied, but I choose to see it everywhere. After the moment in three words where Mulder tries to let them go gently because he thinks he's too damaged to be a father (Thanks @randomfoggytiger for the meta on that) (there's a fic here obviously where Scully gives him the space to be broken and also hers) After this though, he's not the Mulder as we've seen, ever. He's not the Mulder who

cares about exposing the government so he can say I told you so

cares about saving the public from the invasion

cares about finding the ultimate truth that has driven him since he found the X files

cares about solving cases and one upping the FBI, trying to force them to admit the truth out loud.

Mulder is fighting the entire season for his family.

he cares about exposing the conspiracy so everyone including his child will be safe.

he cares about saving the earth for his child's future

he cares about his childs and his families safety

he has zero concern about the FBI and what they do anymore.

In the second scene above, he's about had it with the entire conspiracy and he's downright pissed. He wants it all to end he doesn't care how. He wants to protect his child above everything. Sure he's usually reckless but this isn't for him and his self involved cause anymore, it's for his family, his wellbeing be damned at some points along the way. He states his thesis in three words while breaking into FBI files in an astonishing show of recklessness

"Look, Scully, I need to make sense of what happened to me. So that I can stop it. Because if I can't stop it, it could happen to anyone. It could happen to you. And who's to say it's going to stop there?"

I always wondered why he was putting Scully through all that, without realising this was the reason. Poor guy. There's nothing else in his purview anymore besides that baby who's in danger, and his family, so much so, when he is ultimately fired from the FBI, he's positively giddy at his newfound freedom.

If he had then gone down a path temporarily where he murdered his way through the remnants of the syndicate to assure the safety of his family John Wick style, I would've absolutely believed it.

It would've been insanely intriguing look at an evolving dynamic between Scully and Mulder. Scully law abiding Mulder reckless as always but with a different motivation. Becoming what he's always feared, to protect the family he has never had. A family he feels like he's only grasping at, as they're slipping through his fingers due to the danger and his recent and past traumas.

There's a reason a lot of the fandom sees Mulder as a happy stay at home dad post wherever they decide to end watching. Thats what he's been searching for his entire life. A happy family with loving parents. When he let go of that dream for himself in Closure, he found he could want that for his future family whatever that looked like (adoption, a miracle, etc.) in Requiem. And I personally don't believe he ever would let that dream go once he realised, I mean we all saw the devotion he had to his sister right?

In other words these are my reasons season 9 onwards make zero sense and I regard them as AU

[carefulfears]

sometimes i just want to cry over mulder’s fish and the way that we see both scully and doggett go to his apartment and feed them during the months he was missing and the fact that scully must have kept feeding them even months after he was dead and just to be loved so much that people come tend to your environment and keep your home and feed your fish long after you’re gone

and that the first thing he notices when he comes back is that one isn’t there. and how scully tried so hard, she tried so hard to find him and to keep him safe and to keep his work going and to keep those damn fish alive, and the first thing that he says to her when they walk back into that apartment is that one is missing

the way that in that scene, he says that he’s having trouble processing, that he doesn’t know where he fits in. you can be loved so much that multiple people come feed your fish and maintain your apartment after you’re buried in the ground, you can try so hard to keep everything going for someone else, but the world keeps spinning, and time goes on. fish die and baby bumps grow and answered prayers aren’t always miracles

he came back covered in scars to a clean apartment and a fish tank missing 1 molly and where does he fit in inside a world that hasn’t waited for him, no matter how hard she tried to make it stop

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Third Day of Gift-Giving

Three Words

... to use in your next story

Ghosts - safety - blanket

Candy - balloon - dress

Streetlamp - music - flattering

Tunnel - bike - hill

Chills - reunion - banner

Dry - sun - radio

Slow-dancing - skirts - barefoot

Wedding - piano - cake

Concert - kiss - solo

Grass - socks - dew

Bell - ring - firework

Home - window - lights

Park - bench - dogs

Window sill - sunlight - plants

Fancy - coat - photo

24 Days of Gift-Giving

[divinemissem13]

"Don't you dare" for Brenda/Sharon (if you're still up for prompts)

I can’t promise to always answer promptly (🥁) but I am always up for prompts! Thanks for another fun one! Tried to be a little less fluffy for a change… with middling success.

~~~~

Sharon smiles as she watches Rusty run around the picnic with the younger kids. He might be a little old for this sort of thing but he didn’t exactly have a lot of normal childhood experiences and it warms Sharon’s heart to see him so carefree.

In fact, she is certain she’s never enjoyed a “loosely required” LAPD social event this much — not even when her own children were young.

Until, that is, she feels a presence next to her and hears the all too familiar drawl. “Amazin’ how much he’s changed. Hard to believe that’s the same kid who was turnin’ tricks in Griffith Park.”

“Chief Johnson — oh I’m sorry, it’s not “Chief” any more is it? What do I call you know? Mrs. Deputy Chief Howard?” It’s a low blow and Sharon knows it, but the two hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms and now she’s insulting Rusty, so Sharon really doesn’t feel too bad about it. “Well, whoever you are these days, Rusty is not a product of the circumstances that were forced upon him in the past and I will thank you not to bring that up again.”

“I’m sorry. For… everythin’,” Brenda says, and it actually sounds like she might mean it. “And whatever you wanna call me, you can drop the ‘Mrs.’” she adds timidly.

Sharon finally turns to look at Brenda and she’s met with those same big brown doe eyes that haunt her dreams. “Fritz?” she asks in a hushed voice.

“Over,” Brenda replies. It is only one word but it carries the weight of the whole dictionary.

Sharon assumed that Brenda had come with Fritz but if not… “What are you doing here?” she hisses, still not willing or able to let herself hope.

“You won’t answer my calls. And I wanted to see you. I… I needed to see you,” Brenda says, fidgeting with her earring.

“Brenda Leigh Johnson, don’t you dare fuck with me again,” Sharon says, a little louder than she intended, drawing curious looks from the people nearby. Sharon grabs Brenda’s arm and pulls her to the relative privacy of a large oak tree. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“I wouldn’t… I couldn’t… Sharon, I love you. I’ve been miserable these last few months without you and if you’d have me… I swear to you, to me, you will always come first.” She’s crying by the time she’s finished, silent tears streaming down her cheeks which Sharon gently wipes away with her thumbs.

“I want to believe you,” Sharon whispers. “But how can I trust that you’re not going to run away again? I can’t — I won’t — be your dirty little secret. No more.” Her voice is still soft but there is some steel in it now. She will not cave. Not this time.

Brenda looks up at her, the wheels clearly turning behind those chocolate eyes. “No more,” she agrees, draping her arms over Sharon’s shoulders and pulling her closer. “How’s this for not running away?” she asks.

Before Sharon can respond, Brenda is kissing her. Right there, in front of God and the entire LAPD. No hiding, no secrets. Sharon laughs against Brenda’s lips and her hands go to the blonde woman’s slender hips and pulls them flush against her own. (God how she’s missed this feeling!) “It’s a really, really good start,” she murmurs before deepening the kiss.

All around them, nosy spectators (who weren’t deterred at all by their move behind the tree) begin to clap and cheer. Brenda and Sharon barely even notice.

[cecilysass]

Saw your Three Words tags! :DDD

I always read that scene as a sort of joke between them (which I covered in this post, but it's not necessary to read over.)

The play-by-play, according to my theory:

Langly makes his statement.

Mulder hears Langly and becomes suspicious of Scully's involvement, wondering if she'd "set him up" in a One Son do-over.

Scully keeps her face relaxed and neutral, seeking eye contact rather than breaking it-- a sign of her innocence. (Scully can't maintain eye contact if she has something to hide... which she proves, later, after Mulder calls her out for "campaigning.")

We see Mulder's face a second before he registers her uninvolvement (a little bit of panic, a little bit of betrayal)--

--but when he does, his eyes become twinkly as he tilts his head and mockingly squints at her (an unspoken tease over the baby's paternity-- the same as his expression in Empedocles.)

Scully teases him back-- raising her eyebrows and lightly quipping, "So much for playing a hunch, Mulder"-- before transitioning them to TLG's research.

I'm quite passionate about this subject; but, then again, my speculations rest on the fact Mulder already knew the baby was his but wasn't ready to face impending fatherhood. Not a rejection of the baby so much as a protective measure for them... and himself (wracked, as he was, with hidden PTSD.)

I’m with you that Mulder knew he was the father. I mean, I admit I like fanfic where he’s so out of it and confused that it takes him a moment to put it together, and I can go with some “he becomes jealous and suspicious” fanfic if he is characterized as traumatized enough to not be thinking straight.

But in my actual interpretation of the show, he knows and is just in too much numb trauma to act like we think he would right away. I have read your takes on this before, and I think you and I agree.

Now my beef with this little moment (and a few others in this arc) is that it seems written just to string along audiences, to keep them wondering if Mulder is the father, not for coherent storytelling in its own right, to stand on its own and make sense. Everything season 8 until the last possible minute had to be able to be interpreted as either (a) Mulder isn’t the father, and Scully doesn’t think he is; or (b) Mulder is the father, and Scully does think he is.

(I think this was a goofy writing decision because it meant they couldn’t fully push the plot or character implications of either interpretation. Like: If Mulder isn’t the father and Scully doesn’t think so, who tf is the father? We have no info on that. Shouldn’t Scully be worried about that all season long if she doesn’t know? Wouldn’t that be a major plot point? I would sure be worried. Or… if Scully believes Mulder IS the father and starts to have alien baby doubts, did she have an amnio and run DNA or no? Seems like she sure as fuck would have. And it turns out that was relevant. But this is all a side quibble.)

I’m trying to understand what you mean by Mulder could be suspecting Scully has discussed this with the Gunmen in advance, One Son style. You mean that he’s worried she’s trying to pin him down about his role with the baby? Like he’s a little anxious about this? It’s hard for me to get that in DD’s expression there, but maybe?

I can definitely see that maybe he is checking with her because he doesn’t know what she’s told people, or because he’s specifically surprised she hasn’t told the Gunmen. That makes sense, but I don’t know if I think that reads very clearly here. It would have more if Scully had given him a more intentional look back—she almost seems to just cast her eyes his direction—but of course they couldn’t do that, because that would confirm too much.

It sure looks like he’s confused about what Langly means, or even that he’s like, “heavens, why would I be involved in my co-worker’s pregnancy!” And of course I think they wanted it to look like that, so that they could continue the frustrating season 8 plan of making sure people could also possibly interpret this scene as Mulder not being the father. And I think this is why this scene sends people in all kinds of directions on what Mulder’s thinking is.

I do like your take, though. I can headcanon that. I probably would have written him more obviously spacey and traumatized in all of these scenes. I think you have written about wanting to see more of him dealing with this, and I agree. (I wrote a fic about this actually lol.) If Mulder had been having a more visibly difficult time, they could have had him absent-mindedly change the subject or look off in the distance or something. But I know they also wanted him to get to have the jokey, playful dynamic with the Gunmen and that the show hadn’t had that for a long time. And it is fun to see. So I get it.

If I haven’t said it before, though, I looooove these photo by photo interpretations of scenes.

[ssavinggrace]

gotta love grace sibling angst

[randomfoggytiger]

Mulder's Alien Baby Baby Trauma In-Depth (Part VIII) UPDATED!: Missing Conversations and Mulder Gettin' His Groove On

In the aftermath of Three Words, we are left with a few resolved questions-- Mulder knew the baby was his, Mulder didn't resent Scully, Mulder and Scully eye-bantered about the baby issue in her kitchen with the Gunmen, etc.-- that help to more fully make sense of that episode and the tail end of Season 8.

However. We are then given a giant, gaping hole of nothing that bridges the gap between the heavier mood of Three Words and the buoyantly tender one of Empedocles.

So, that leaves us with speculations, probabilities, and body language.

**Note**: This post has been updated to include @baronessblixen's thought on Mulder and Scully's conversation (did they or didn't they?) The nuance of "a little of both" is also a solid possibility.

FILLING IN THE BLANKS

During the events of Three Words, Mulder and Scully maintained a pattern: she pulled, he pushed, she was frustrated and anxious to the point of tears, he was frustrated and fearful to the point of honorable death. Neither wanted to push or pull away too far from each other, always drawing back in close proximity. Most importantly, Mulder gave her short tender or joking glances but never touched her.

The touching is important.

Usually, it's Scully who withdrew in times of crisis: not because she wanted to ice Mulder out, but because she wanted to maintain her wall of strength. Knowing that a touch from her partner will unspool it, she tried (tries) to escape emotionally tenuous situations before losing control. Mulder, however, learned to draw to her in emotional crises (Anasazi, Herrenvolk, Paper Hearts, Redux II, Emily, etc.)

That pattern contributed to Scully's bafflement and concern in Three Words: Mulder attempted to keep his trauma under wraps but gave himself away by withdrawing physically. She already sensed something off with him in the hospital (script here, thanks @x-files-scripts); but each successive conversation reinforced that by the unnatural space he enforced between them.

I've previously discussed at length why he stayed at a distance (post here, here, and here.) In short, Mulder was trying to keep up a facade-- his cool exterior, if you will-- so that his partner wouldn't prod or pry or urge (or send) him to professional help. Mulder's a "lash out to fix a problem instead of searching within to find the solution" kind of guy; and besides, he likely saw his situation as hopeless. Most therapists and psychologists didn't (don't) believe in aliens, let alone alien abductions; so, the only place he could find professional help would be in his circles-- where he's already a very well-known community figurehead. (While I don't think the latter was a consideration during his Three Words kneejerk, it at least points us to a possible solution post episode.)

Another problem: falling in-step with this season's useless (and often infuriating) scripts-to-screen translation-- post here for the paternity question but also script here for Mulder and Doggett's needlessly baited escape from the DOD facility-- we're not shown the gap between Three Words and Empedocles. We're left to assume Mulder and Scully had an off-screen conversation that resolved the distance between them... but I have doubts that was the case.

DID THEY OR DIDN'T THEY TALK?

It's often referenced that Mulder and Scully don't talk outside of work (ex. stated straightly in Detour and hinted slyly in Rain King.) The show leaned so far into this narrative that the only proof we have of an on-going relationship between the two in Season 7 is Scully's tie twirling, flirting, and unabashed possessiveness post Millennium and pre-all things... and even then, it might not be proof enough for some (or most) viewers.

The reality is, Mulder and Scully spent hours and hours and hours investigating, researching, and surveilling. We've seen plot relevant conversations during work hours that aren't just about work (i.e. Mulder asking Scully about her brothers in Roland), leading one to conclude that they've had very interesting and tantalizing talks when not currently occupied with a case.

Did one of those tantalizing talks happen off-screen between Three Words and Empedocles?

We have two options before us:

Mulder and Scully did talk. This would require a shift in their dynamic post Three Words; and the instigator would likely be Scully. She was already emotionally raw, growing more compromised, and stretched to her limits by the previous episode. It's not a far-fetched theory for her to have requested space or time to recover; and that shift in their wonky new routine would have off-set Mulder, and possibly pushed him out of himself and back to her. There are two hitches to this theory: it would require time to pass (not as big of a deal), and a conversation that would all too easily click them back into their touchy-feely dynamic previous to the events in Empedocles. The latter part is key: him feeling the baby in her hospital room is framed as his first time reaching out to connect with it-- and that would leave us with another question: did Mulder reach out only to Scully in the gap between Three Words and Empedocles; and if so, was she okay with that? There was no barrier or awkwardness on her side in Empedocles, so that points to a negative on the "reaching out to her but not the baby" theory (proved by her distress when he avoided the baby entirely in Three Words.) This means: to have a conversation, they would have had to reconcile without touching at all... which might (would) also further upset Scully; and, thus, disrupt her placid temperament in Empedocles. Ultimately, this theory leads to more questions than answers; but it can work, though not perfectly (depending on the viewer's interpretation.)

Mulder and Scully did not talk. This works with the lore of the show: Mulder and Scully don't generally talk, but their body language does. Moreover, it would also fit with the insanely fast-paced timeline of Season 8 (and The X-Files in general)-- Three Words happening within days, Empedocles chockfull with unacknowledged air fare and car rides, etc. On top of all that, it would also fit in with Scully's light-hearted moments in Three Words-- continually trying to draw her partner into a better outlook or mood-- and her eager openness in Deadalive, Three Words, and Empedocles. This means: it wasn't a conversation that settled Mulder and Scully-- it was Mulder who came to a resolution of sorts and showed up in repentance and reconciliation. Ultimately, I think this theory fits more with the show writers' vision of the characters; and would work seamlessly if the two episodes were fitted tightly back-to-back.

Mulder and Scully do a little of both: This idea was taken from @baronessblixen's tags; and it absolutely sounded like something those two would do. To quote: "...a combination. Mulder found more of his footing. And I think they had a conversation-- maybe just a light one-- that just touched on things because they weren't there yet." This means: Mulder and Scully got to clear the air between them without progressing too forward too fast-- which gives Mulder talking without touching leeway and hands Scully reassurance without rejection.

I, personally, pick the second theory. Mulder's actions in Empedocles--showing up at her doorstep right before her morning (or afternoon) shower, sweeping her off her feet with a present and pizza man banter, hovering until she motioned for him to feel the baby, ordering her pizza from his place in an attempt to displace the pizza man, etc.-- are completely unexpected by Scully. She answers the door, perplexed; is amazed and amused by his "the pizza man is not above suspicion" tease; "touched" by his personal package and surprise pizza delivery; and confident enough in his stability to rib him about being replaced by the pizza man in his absence. To me, these read as the actions of a woman not at all "conversated" with her partner: surprised, pleased, and overjoyed he'd come around on his own, baffled, disjointed, and silent at his about-face in proceeding episodes. Most pivotally, there seem to be no boundaries laid down between them, which leaves Scully feeling she can't command or demand he stay by her side in future episodes-- another point against conversation.

**Update**: I retract the previous paragraph slightly-- Scully and Mulder could follow in the footsteps of Empedocles for both scenario 2 and 3; and their attitude would fall a little more in line with 3's mild conversation than 2's non-communication. Everyone can pick for themselves, of course~.

Because, again, the context of their touches changes the interpretation of their reunion: is he still withdrawn, yet temporarily stepping up because of the glow of her and the baby's safety? Did he touch her previous to the gift exchange and her hospitalization? Or did he hover closer and closer with presents and banter, trying to smooth over yesterday(ish)'s events before the abruption took place?

This point will have to be picked apart more in-depth in later posts; but in the meantime, the theory is out there to analyze.

MULDER GETTIN' HIS GROOVE ON

An important aside: Mulder and Scully and his package.

The original scene (script here) reads as more exasperated on Scully's part-- "what's my crackpot partner doing here with a gift in his hand", if you will-- and more jocular and unabashed on Mulder's. It's an interesting take, and not out-of-character. The final render of that scene, however, changes what we can infer from the characters. Perhaps that's mostly due to David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson's chemistry, camaraderie, and history-- based on the note "the actors will know how to play it" (script here)-- or perhaps it didn't quite align with where Chris Carter wanted the characters to be. Either way, it's a smart change, I believe, in the unspoken aftermath of Three Words.

What is interesting is the "nice package" comment from Scully, and Mulder's shy initial misinterpretation with regards to his package. Beyond the comedy of the moment, it gives us a peek into Mulder's head: namely, that he is not dead, that he is still very aware of Scully, and that he didn't drop in and isn't hanging around strictly for pure or impersonal purposes.

Mulder usually sloughed off or was flustered by direct compliments, romantic and platonic, from other parties (i.e. Agent Henderson in Young at Heart and Cassandra Spender in Two Fathers.) His response here-- which I shall dive deeper into in a future part-- shows he truly thought Scully was complimenting with intent (propositioning, if you will); and that he was more than willing to reciprocate.

Not only that, but his misinterpretation bleeds right into his overtures for the baby. Mulder took a trip to his mother's-- meaning he still has her house, months later (another interesting thought to dig into)-- to root around in and find a suitable gift. An honorary Mulder family relic, too: another sign he saw this child as his own, despite his oft conflicting, paranoid doubts. This assumption aligns with David's astute observations of his character while filming the Revival: "William is the child that Scully had while we were together. It could be mine, it could be an alien, but I don't know. It's my child, I think. Mulder would live his life as if that was his child." Despite the doubts he voices in Essence's opening monologue, Mulder acts as if he claims the baby as his. And it's not surprising: the signs are there (covered in all of my previous meta parts) but smudged or written out by writers intent on baiting the answers as much as possible (again, post here.)

So, what does this mean?

CONCLUSION

Sometime between Three Words and Empedocles, Mulder gets enough of his act together to reflect on and tweak his behavior, schelpping up to and back from Tena Mulder's house to bear gifts for the offspring, caveman papa style. In addition to that, he lays down a few more walls; softens up; shows open, genuine interest in his child; and begins to rekindle his and his partner's relationship. Most tellingly, he touches Scully for the first time during her health scare; then for the first time with purpose after she and the baby pull through.

The question of what was said between them-- or even if there was anything said between them-- will never be answered. Knowing Mulder and Scully, the possibilities could go any way depending on one's own interpretation. Hopefully those possibilities have been fleshed out more thoroughly and reasonably in this write-up.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[promptsbytaurie]

dialogue prompts: three words

!!please credit/tag me if you use any! I'd love to see what you write!!

"I don't see?"

"Can you move?"

"We can't die."

"Slow down, tiger."

"I don't kneel."

"Where is she?!"

"This is awkward."

"Hush, young one."

"Is this home?"

"What went wrong?"

"I'm not sorry."

"He can't run!"

"Are you afraid?"

"Maybe I'm evil."

"...She was lying?"

"Don't you understand?"

"Darling, calm yourself."

"Eat my dust."

"Nope, no way."

"I'm not mad."

"Did you die?"

"You are nothing."

"We won't survive."

"I'm never enough."

"If we lose?"

"What a day."

"Um, maybe don't."

"Listen to me!!"

"I see everything."

"Calm down, love."

"This is war."

[aaandbackstabbed]

Stop what you’re doing!! And give me three words to describe Goldie O’Gilt —I’m trying something— pretty please <3

[yourlovelyspace]

Which ones would be yours? 💝

[earhartsease]

love that moment when Mulder is in his flat for the first time after coming back to life and he's like "something's different here" and Scully replies "yeah - its clean" and he chuckles

[carefulfears]

thinking about the x files does a lot of show and not tell. specifically thinking about three words and mulder's struggling with this new reality and scully barely hanging on

three words is in my top ten episodes, i truly love it so much and i think it's such a raw portrayal of something that people typically miss in these story arcs. you're literally confronted in the opening with exactly what is going on behind the surface: the pain and the fear behind each scar that mulder can touch. and what i love so much about this episode and this season is that it offers a completely different response to trauma than we normally see from him. it's so much harsher. he came back with rough edges. all of his jokes are so heavy, he can't even attempt to put his weight behind them.

and i understand that it's hard to watch, because scully tried so hard for so long, and there is no relief. she looked for him and she tried to save him and she tried to be him and she tried to keep his work intact. she maintained his home and she fed his fish and she slept with his laundry and she grew his child. and like she says, she prayed and prayed and prayed, and she suffered and suffered and suffered. she planned a funeral and a nursery at the same time. she was ripped screaming off of his cold body. and three months later, there he is, whispering bad jokes under her tears. scully believes in miracles.

and there is still no relief. not for everybody. just waking up and being alive isn't all that matters, it matters that living is hard too. it matters that he can't touch his face without remembering being ripped apart. it matters that walking into his home feels unfamiliar. it matters that even though she tried, there's one less fish. there's a new partner in his office. there's a new baby about to be born, he missed everything. and if you ask him how he feels he'll say, "like austin powers," and no one will laugh. if you walk him into his apartment, the first thing he'll notice is the failed change. if you tell him he's your answered prayers, he'll brush it off until you cry.

scully raised him from the dead, and his first steps are to a suicide mission. it is so mean. he knew that breaking into that facility would kill him. had killed everyone else. he was told that, he was begged not to go. and in a moment, doggett has to run through the census bureau under fire, and drag him out. all three of the tlg boys are in the ceiling navigating. very pregnant scully is near-tears in the parking lot. no relief. miracles, not magic.

and i just love all of it. the bitter jokes that don't land. the casual cruelty. the false starts. the honesty. the way that no matter what, mulder is still mulder, there will always be some sign that things are going to be okay, like the way he tells scully that he just has to make sure what happened to him doesn't happen to someone else. the way he quietly apologizes, says that he doesn't mean to be cold, he just doesn't know where he fits in. he's having trouble processing. slow returns.

[caridrea]

Three words. Mulder regresa, y su mundo está del revés 👽

[divinemissem13]

"Give me that!" for Brenda/sharon

Yay! More prompts = more B/S for everyone!

Brenda turns around quickly and just catches the FID Captain as she drops her little notebook to her side. Even if she hadn’t caught a glimpse of the notebook, Brenda would still know something was up, due to the over exaggerated look of nonchalance on the woman’s face. Maybe the reason she is such a stickler for the rules is because Sharon could never in a million years get away with breaking one — not with that poker face.

“What are you writing in that little book of yours?” Brenda demands.

Sharon straightens her back and fixes Brenda with an icy glare. “Nothing you need to worry about, Chief.”

Brenda stares the other woman down for a moment and then huffs, “Fine,” before turning back to what she was doing. Her focus remains on the captain, however, and the moment she hears the scratching of pencil on paper, she pounces, snatching the notebook out of her hands and spinning around in her chair to use her desk as a shield.

“Give me that! You have no right!” Sharon exclaims. She tries to reach around the blonde to retrieve the book but it’s too late, she is already flipping through the pages with a silly smile growing on her face.

“I didn’t know you could draw,” she says, half teasing and half reverent as she studies the most recent sketch.

“I can’t,” Sharon protests. “I just like to doodle you… sometimes,” she shrugs weakly.

Brenda tosses the book aside and leans across the desk, resting her chin on her hands. “Mmhmm, and just how long have you been doodlin’ me, Captain?” she asks with a mischievous grin.

Sharon reddens slightly as she leans forward so that she is eye to eye with the chief. “Oh, I’d say going on about three months, don’t you think?” she asks casually, as if she hasn’t been counting.

“82 days,” Brenda confirms, leaning even closer. “You’ve really got a talent for it, I’d say.”

“Brendaaaa,” Sharon whines breathily, their faces only centimeters apart, “we’re at work!” It may be after hours, but they are still in Brenda’s office and the blinds aren’t even shut.

“You are so right, Captain. I am so sorry if I’ve crossed a line.” Brenda straightens up and sits back in her chair, leaving Sharon glassy eyed and flustered as she sits back into her own chair.

Brenda tosses the book back across the desk and smirks, “Keep practicin’. Then maybe later tonight I can doodle you.”