#ive read a few fanfics that briefly touch on this idea

[ladysqueakinpip]

If like Hanekoma actually owns and lives in (realistically) wildkat, do like angels have the ability to own property or like do they need to sleep usually and like…unlike reapers and players do they actually see the night sky they don’t just close their eyes and wake up for another day…

Was…was josh running on five days of no sleep in twewy????? Lmaooooo….

But also the idea of josh having a high life apartment some place is also so funny. Him sitting with Powerade in a wine glass watching all the shit go down from his fancy house’s balcony…

yeah i think about this A LOT. i feel like its safe to say the composer of the area can just wip up a fake identity for any angels living on their territory, and for themself as well??

i think the most likely situation would be that reapers live in some structure (like. a reaper apartment complex?? reaper condos?? reaper dorms?? LOL) that's only visible in the UG and they can just downtune vibes to the RG when they wish if they want to grab food or whatever. ofc in hanekoma's case its a little different since he actually runs a business that relies on RG patronage to survive (unless he actually makes most of his money from his CAT gig and has the coffee shop for the Aesthetic Vibes). is hanekoma paying property tax on that place?? who knows.

i always assumed that only players fall asleep while they wait for the next day, but the reapers use that as their time off the clock to do as they want. i think uzuki and kariya actually use the term "off the clock" a few times in the game too!! i wouldn't be surprised if the reaper officers use downtime in between days/missions to hold meetings or plan for the next day's mission and blah blah blah etc.

as for josh in twewy, my personal headcanon is that since he was in the RG for the full week he had to take care of an RG body and eat and sleep and stuff just like anyone else!! cue the end of a mission and neku falls asleep and josh is just like "oh haha that was fun" and yeets himself back to his fancy penthouse. or his fancy sewer basement (whichever you prefer). and he just laughs at neku laying face down on the asphalt.

[snickerl]

Elixir Vitae

AU fanfic set around the time of IWTB.

A/N: I've always loved Margaret Scully and hate Chris Carter for giving her just one single line in season 10.

Find previous chapters here: Chapter I / Chapter II / Chapter III

Chapter IV

Now that she knows who she is - she knows, she does not remember - Dr. Pratt sees no reason to keep her family away from her any longer. So I have Maggie and Bill Jr. with me today when I gently knock at the door to her room.

I tried to prepare her mother. I told her to brace herself for looking into a pair of unresponsive eyes, that it was possible Dana would not remember her own mother. Margaret Scully listened to me like she always listened to me when I was giving her the facts about her daughter’s medical condition. There were times I had to do it on a monthly basis almost. Her son, of course, not really a fan of mine, didn’t spare me anything. He told me for the umpteenth time that this was all my fault, that I messed up his sister’s life and brought so much sorrow upon his family in my pathetic pursuit of little green men that he’d like to see me rot in hell.

Before I open the door, I throw Maggie an encouraging look, avoiding Bill’s eyes.

“Hey, Scully, it’s me,” I greet her and the familiar words warm my soul. “Here’s someone who wants to see you.”

I argued with Dr. Pratt whether or not to tell her in advance that her folks would be coming. He deemed it wiser not to, hoping it would give her memory a boost. I’m not so sure about it but doctor’s orders are doctor’s orders, and he’s the specialist. Specialist in the field of amnesia that is, not in the mystery that is Dana Scully. In this field, I am the specialist, and I fear that if she becomes aware that she doesn’t even recognize her own mother, and chances are uncomfortably high she won’t, Dr. Pratt’s plan backfires and sends her into an even deeper state of hopelessness than she’s already in.

She turns around when she hears my voice and her face lightens up when she sees me. My heart jumps a little.

“Fox!” she cheers, and I can hear her mother gasp at the unfamiliar name coming out of her mouth.

I go over to her and place a quick peck on her cheek, the greeting ritual we’ve established ever since she found out we were married. Then I turn around to motion for Maggie and Bill, who are still glued to the threshold, to step into the room.

“Scully, I don’t want you to get fed up with me as your only visitor, so I brought you two new ones,” I try to take the pressure off the situation and ease the atmosphere a bit.

Her eyes wander from me to her mother and brother and my darkest forebodings are coming to fulfillment.

She looks at them, she looks at me, then back at them. When her eyes meet mine again, I see plain horror in them. She realizes that she’s supposed to know these people, probably understanding that the elderly woman looking at her so affectionately can’t be anyone but her mother and that the man, who’s of a similar age and has the same facial features as her, very probably is her brother. She silently pleads with me to help her out, and I silently curse myself for not having stood up to Dr. Pratt and his stupid idea of confronting her with her family unprepared.

I put my hand on the small of her back to let her feel I’m right there behind her before I tell her, “Scully, these are your mother Margaret and your older brother Bill.”

“Oh.”

Maggie is struggling to keep her composure. My heart aches for her. How many more times does this woman have to visit her daughter in a medical institution? How many more times does she have to fear for her daughter’s wellbeing?

“Dana, Sweetheart,” Maggie greets her.

“I’m sorry,” Scully only says. “I…I don’t…”

“It’s alright,” her mother soothes her, her voice so gentle, it’d put anyone at ease. “It’s perfectly alright, dear. You’re well, that’s all that matters right now. Can I give you hug?”

Scully briefly checks with me, and although it feels good to be her confidant, I am so sorry for Maggie who considers it advisable to ask her daughter for permission to hug her.

“Sure,” Scully says somewhat shyly.

Maggie closes the distance between them, cups Scully’s face with one hand, and looks at her with so much motherly love in her eyes, it makes my knees wobbly. She pulls her daughter to her chest and folds her arms around her. I’m sure she tried to prevent it, but a tear rolls down her cheek when she closes her eyes.

Scully’s initial stiff reaction, a clear sign that she’s overwhelmed by the situation, softens that much that in the end, she hugs her mother back.

“Please excuse an old woman’s soppiness,” Maggie says when she pulls back.

The Scully women are compassionate and empathetic; like mother, like daughter. Scully senses that the person in front of her loves her from the bottom of her heart, even though she doesn’t recognize her.

“That’s alright,” she says with a warm smile on her face and wipes the tear off Maggie’s cheek. “Mother? Mama, mommy, mom?”

“Mom,” Maggie sobs, “you call me mom.”

Bill Jr. groans.

“I’m really sorry to make you cry. Did Fox tell you about the amnesia?”

“Yes, he did. He said your memory will come back eventually, that we simply have to give it some time.”

“Hopefully, yes. It’s also called amnestic syndrome,” Scully replies, unable to shed her doctor’s skin.

Maggie takes both of Scully’s hands in hers and squeezes them tenderly.

“I will pray for you, Dana.”

“Thank you…mom.”

When her hands are released, Scully turns to Bill.

“And you are my brother?”

Bill clears his throat. “Uhm, yes. My name’s William, but I go by Bill. Bill Jr.,” he introduces himself awkwardly, before being asked what he used to be called by her.

Scully tilts her head and looks at me questioningly. “Our son isn’t the only William in our family?”

“Uh, no. There are quite a few Williams in our two families,” I supply.

Bill turns his head and throws angry daggers at me. “You told her about William? How could you?” he spits out.

“Bill! Please!” his mother intervenes sharply, and Scully explains, “I asked. Fox didn’t want to at first and he didn’t tell me really much. I know it’s a sad story. We agreed to talk about him some other time.”

“Tsk,” is all Bill has to say about it.

I can’t blame him for loathing me. I used to have a little sister myself and protected her the best I could. I failed once, and it has darkened my life forever.

Scully looks at me with a quizzical expression on her face. Her brother’s hostility is so apparent, she must feel it. She’s sensitive and hasn’t lost her observing skills and insight into the human nature just because she can’t recall who she is.

I shrug, trying to tell her non-verbally that I’d explain later. It’s her mother, the wonderful, warm-hearted, and good-natured Margaret Scully, who eases the tension in the room.

“Sweetheart…” she starts but then hesitates a second, “may I call you sweetheart?”

“Of course,” Scully answers, taking her mother’s hands in hers. “I may not recognize you, but I can read in your eyes that we have a strong connection. You look very worried, but there’s no need to be worried. I’m fine. I’m perfectly healthy except for having no access to certain parts of my brain. I just have to be patient until the memories come back.”

I have to give her kudos for trying to soothe her mother. What she just said is what the doctors keep telling her, and I know there are days she can no longer believe them. That she’s now assuaging her mother’s sorrow with the scenario spelt out for her like a mantra by the medical staff gives me hope that she’s still willing to believe that eventually, she’ll heal, that the bad days she’s having, the days filled with hopelessness and pessimism, are just part of the usual ups and downs every patient goes through during a serious illness. It was the same when she fought against her cancer, and she pulled through that one eventually. She’s going to pull through this as well.

She has to!

Maggie strokes Scully’s cheek in a comforting gesture and smiles at her so warmly for Scully’s heart to melt. It must be melting. Mine would. I was never looked at that compassionately by my mother. I wished I was.

“Remember you’re not alone, Dana. You have a family that loves you and cares about you immensely. Whenever you have the feeling you want me to be here, don’t hesitate to call. Please! Can you promise me to do that?”

Scully nods, visibly touched by her mother’s words.

“It’s like I told you when I found you here, Scully,” I interject. “Most certainly, people were looking for you. How could you ever believe you weren’t loved and sadly missed?”

Maggie throws me a gentle look and mouths a silent ‘thank you’. Bill is pacing the room, not even trying to hide how disgruntled he is. I feel he’s got something on the tip of his tongue he has difficulties keeping inside his mouth, and I bet it’s nothing very flattering for me. I don’t have to wait long for it to sputter out of him.

“If you had stopped dragging her into those ridiculous cases of yours, Mulder, like I asked you over and over again, none of this would’ve have happened and there would’ve been no need for you to tell her she had a family,” he pants, his contempt for me filling the entire room.

I’m not surprised. That’s exactly what I expected from him, although I hoped he’d be able to keep his dislike of me at bay for just this one afternoon. Not because I can’t take his accusations. I can. I’m so used to them I mostly just don’t listen, but for Scully, the unfriendly vibes between her brother and me must be somewhat disconcerting, and for that, I’m angry at him. In his sister’s interest, he could’ve bitten his tongue once. Just once.

“Bill,” Maggie says, in a conciliating tone this time, “it’s not Fox’s fault. He found Dana here, and for that, we should be grateful.”

Thankfulness is not a sentiment he’s willing to bestow on me, so he counters his mother’s generous words with a dismissive snort.

Scully’s eyes are flying back and forth between the three of us. I can imagine her discomfort at the exchange of these rather harsh and unfriendly remarks among us.

“Fox said you were my older brother, Bill. I take it we have at least one more, younger brother?”

“Yes,” Bill answers her, his face contorted. “Charlie. But he’s estranged. He’s the youngest of us four.”

As soon as the words have tumbled out of his mouth, I want to shake him for his insensitivity. He solved one mystery for Scully but simultaneously brought up two new ones.

“Four of us?” she hence asks.

As both Maggie and Bill fall silent, seemingly overwhelmed by the situation unfolding itself in front of us, I step in to answer the question.

“You’re number three in the line-up, Scully. Bill’s the first-born, then there’s your sister Melissa, you, and Charlie, the youngest.”

“I see. Charlie isn’t here because he’s estranged with the family, like you said, Bill, but what about Melissa? Why hasn’t she come with you? Don’t we get along well?”

I can see that Maggie is fighting with her emotions, trying badly to keep tears from forming in her eyes. As I don’t want Bill to spit out another inconsiderate explanation, I hurry to give Scully the information she deserves, mentally slapping myself in the face for having her go through this ordeal. I could’ve prepared her for this, sparing her having to cope with one painful detail about her family after another. If I hadn’t listened to Dr. Pratt, I would’ve told her the family story beforehand and mother and daughter could’ve used their time to bond instead of walking on eggshells around each other.

“You and Melissa got along very well, Scully. You weren’t apart much and shared a room as kids. The reason that she’s not here today is that she’s not around anymore. She died more than a decade ago in an accident.”

I know I’m bending the truth a little, but under no circumstances am I going to tell her now that her sister was shot in her apartment and that she herself had actually been the target.

“And my father is also dead, isn’t he?”

“Yes, dear,” Maggie answers this one. “We lost him in 1994. He was a Navy captain and called you Starbuck.”

Scully’s hearty chuckle fills the room, a rare and therefore uplifting sound but also a bit out of place at this particular moment.

“Starbuck, huh? And I guess I called him Ahab,” she says, still chuckling and looking at us innocently with a smile on her face, only to be stared at by three sets of flabbergasted eyes. The room has fallen so silent from one moment to the next, one would hear a needle drop to the floor. Maggie puts her hand over her mouth, but a startled gasp escapes anyway.

“What? It was a joke! I’ve been reading Moby Dick,” Scully explains, pointing to the bedside table where the mentioned book lies face up.

“Dana,” Maggie whispers, “you did indeed call your father Ahab. We all did. Was that a memory? Do you remember him? You had such a strong bond to your father, above all, it would be understandable for you to remember him.” Her voice is wavering a little.

“I d-don’t know,” Scully stammers. She frowns and one can literally see her racking her brain. Then, she shakes her head and casts her eyes down. “No, I don’t think it was a memory, more likely a coincidence because of what I read in the book.”

Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe not. Though I refuse to believe that it was a simple coincidence she picked Moby Dick from the clinic library. How high are the chances she’d choose exactly that particular copy out of a variety of hundreds of books? Not very! She was guided by something, and the same something let her make what she thought was a joke about her father’s nickname. What we’ve just seen is the first little step in the right direction.

I know it!

I feel a glint of hope flaring in my chest. And I’m relieved that Scully’s alleged joke has distracted everyone from Melissa’s absence.

Scully closes her eyes and massages her temples. This conversation has clearly taken its toll on her her.

I know that Maggie is sensitive enough to notice her daughter’s need for rest, but I’m not so sure about Bill, therefore I suggest, “I think we could all use a break. Why don’t we defer the rest of the family history to some other time?”

“Are you throwing us out, Mulder? Who do you think you are? Her guard?” Bill bellows.

I grit my teeth so hard to keep myself from replying something impolite, my jaws ache.

“No, I’m not. I’m just saying that it’s been a lot of information, and I want Scully to take her time to let it all sink in.”

“Oh! You want her to-” Bill launches into another verbal attack but is cut off by his mother.

“Bill! Fox is right, it’s been enough for today!” Maggie’s tone is so authoritative, even Bill gets that his mother does not tolerate any dissent in this matter. She shoots him a severe look, then continues, her worried eyes resting on her daughter’s face, “I hope we didn’t overwhelm you, sweetheart. I’d hate myself if we made you uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine. Thanks for coming and being so kind to me.”

Maggie’s can’t suppress a sob.

“You’re my daughter, Dana, I’d do everything for you.”

“I realize that, mom. Just…give me some time, okay?”

Maggie nods, pressing her lips together to keep another endearment from slipping out, I suppose.

My heart breaks seeing mother and daughter so much in distress, but I’m glad that the word 'mom’ rolling so effortlessly off Scully’s tongue had the capacity to ease Maggie’s emotional pain. A splinter of joy has lit up in her face when she heard her daughter call her mom and the troubled lines on her forehead have receded a little.

“All the time in the world,” Maggie whispers, “I’m just so happy to have you back.”

Her shoulders are trembling now and I’m afraid she’s about to break down.

Scully has the same feeling evidently because she takes a step toward her and slides her hands up and down both her mother’s arms a few times.

“I’m here, and I won’t go anywhere,” she assures her. “Fox is keeping an eye on me.”

I hear Bill huff somewhere behind me, but I don’t give a damn. What’s more important is Margaret Scully recomposing herself. Her eyes are radiant, her smile is genuine, and that’s enough for me to relax.

We arrange to meet again in about two weeks time. Scully promises to call her mother in the meantime to let her know how she’s doing. Maggie caresses Scully’s cheek and squeezes my hand when she says her goodbye. Bill smiles affectionately at his sister and hugs her but doesn’t deign to look at me on his way out. I couldn’t care less.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind them, Scully turns around, crosses her arms in front of her chest, and throws me a challenging look. She doesn’t need to phrase the question which I’m convinced is burning on her tongue.

“Your brother and I…we aren’t exactly best friends,” I tell her without beating about the bush.

“No kidding? I wouldn’t have noticed,” she replies, sarcasm inking her voice, “but why?”

Of course, I could write a book about my screwed up relationship with Bill Scully Jr., but I try to keep the story short. I don’t want to disturb her any further than she already is.

“You were my partner and I got you involved in some pretty dangerous cases, during the course of which you got hurt more than once and he blamed me for it.”

“Couldn’t I have asked for a transfer if I hadn’t wanted to remain your partner?”

“Yes.”

“But I didn’t.”

“No.”

It’s still a mystery to me and my greatest fortune that she stayed with me and the X-Files despite all the horrible things that happened to her in the wake of our work.

“So, I guess I accepted danger as part of my life, hence it wasn’t your fault I got hurt. My brother has no right to blame you for my decisions.”

I can’t believe she’s defending me. She hardly knows anything about the dynamics between us but she draws all the right conclusions. Either this is all so obvious and self-explaining, which I doubt, or her unprejudiced attitude and relentless aspiration for self-determination are so deeply rooted within her that they guide her even in her current state of lacking an understanding of who exactly she is.

One way or another, Bill only adds some extra pounds on my shoulders which are already loaded with the guilt I put there myself.

“He’s your older brother, Scully. Older brothers have to protect their little sisters. And in a way he’s right. If you had never met me…”

I can’t finish the sentence because the mere imagination that she never entered my life makes my stomach turn.

“I fell in love with you, so the relationship was satisfactory for both sides, I guess,” she says with a sheepish grin.

I’m glad she’s seeing it this way. I’m so relieved she’s gotten used to the idea that we’re lovers. She still doesn’t feel it, is still immune to the chemistry between us, but she embraces the concept. The scientist in her won’t stop gathering information about us and her life with me. I hope that one day she’ll not only know she’s my wife but also remember what it was like. And, of course, I pray she’ll still want to be with me when she does.

Today’s been a good day, tough. One step further into the right direction. Learning she’s a daughter and a sister gave her two more benchmarks to redraw the map of her life. There are still many blank areas on it, but I’m determined to continue helping her fill these blind spots. If necessary, one after the other, as long as it takes until she knows how to navigate through her past, present, and future. I want to be her beacon, her anchor, the person who leads her when she veers off course and who steadies her whenever she falters.

I am your rock, Scully! Lean on me!

to be continued