#xfiles s8

[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 predetermined-- fated, if you will-- mess.)

CONCLUSION

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

Thanks for reading!

Enjoy~

[teiasviago]

Dana Scully + 🤰

[nemocat-el]

2. Doggett

Color wheel

[awilix00]

Just finished season 9, what the fuck

[booomerangarrow]

TXF S8 is so much more unhinged than I remember it being?? Like despite the fact that they supposedly wrapped up the original mytharc in S6 and have barely referenced it since, suddenly they start resurrecting semi-familiar concepts and visuals... except that now it's different aliens and different super soldiers and also we hired Robert Patrick so obviously they have metal exoskeletons now. And the RETCONNING!! What should have been huge plot points - Mulder dying of a terminal brain disease, he and Scully ACTIVELY TRYING TO HAVE A CHILD TOGETHER - we are told happened at least a season ago via flashbacks. But it's OK because none of that actually impacts the current plot anyway - the brain disease gets cured via one sentence and never spoken of again. The failed IVF attempt leaves the audience with the same questions that we would have already had about the pregnancy given Scully's history, but then the show goes absurdly, hilariously out of its way to never discuss ANY of them until we're right smack dab in the middle of a weird-ass alien Christ child allegory. But just kidding because it was a normal human kid after all. (But also the details of all of this will continue to change multiple times over the next 15 years).

[amplifyme]

Not to bitch about it too awfully much, but I was tuned into the Comet TV channel tonight and caught the beginning of Within. And it dawned on me that TXF became a soap opera the moment Chris Carter decided that Scully needed her own theme song.

I won’t be taking questions at this time. Thank you.

[subway-dove]

watching xfiles s8 and.. man. i love dana "spooky" scully. something something forever changed. eight years in that little basement office. taking up the mantle. never stops being herself, but the strangeness hangs around her like a cloak

[bisexualwintermoon]

fuck it starting my xfiles watch before i finish spn bc s8 sam is pissing me off

[randomfoggytiger]

These and many, many more (Tumblr cut me short):

@agent-troi's Bloom - Chapter 1

@aloysiavirgata's A Heart of Star and The Water Is Wide

@amplifyme's Quonochontaug and Light Don't Sleep

Anonymous's Emergency Autopsy

 astronaught's Haze

@baronessblixen's Whispered Words, New Day Has Come, Never Cold With You By My Side Dreams Are Made Of This, Name Calling, Five Minutes

 catsndogs's All Creatures

@cecilysass's Not Orpheus, Not Eurydice and All the Dead Mulders (and Pause-- can't link because Tumblr limits)

@crossedbeams's Misty Blue

Davd Stoddard-Hunt's XFVCU-fic - Pret' Near Midnight

FabulousMonster's Hoop Dreams and Hair Wars

@fbismostunwanted1158's Nurse Mulder and The Fall, X-Files Style

@firstofoctober's Pulling the Thread/Five Wishes

@frostbitepandaaaaa's Four Days AU

@gaycrouton's Her Own Gesthemane

Jamie Greco's Truth or Dare/Truth AND Dare, Scarlet, Five Months Lost, Breathing

JenAndrews's Skyland Mountain (AU) and Rainbow Umbrella (MSIV)/Snow Boots

Jenna Tooms/misslucyjane's An Acceptable Level of Happiness and Shooting Star

JET's Small Lives Awake

Jill Selby's Poised for a Fall (because I tie it to @annablume, who introduced it to me... if my trash memory remembers correctly)

Joyce's Revenant/The Ghost in the Dark

Karen Rasch's By the Wind Grieved

Keleka's Gray Ghosts

Livia Balaban's "Cunegund's Restoration (or, The Best of All Possible Worlds, Really) (1/2)"/"(2/2)"

LuvTheBeez's Snow/Equanimity

Maria Nicole's Bridge

@mchalowitz's chain reaction

@melforbes's seaglass blue (because I've lived it, to a less harrowing degree) and true minds

@monikafilefan's Pre-IWTB at the unremarkable house, Mulder

@muldertxf's Cheap Motels and Headaches

@onpaperfirst's Home, Home and Honey Hi

@palepinkpores's Solo

@pilotinthestars's a green nursery

prufrockslove's Hiraeth

Revely's The Unfinished Universe

RoseThornhill's Cookie Monster and Spooky Mulder: The Revenge/Alice is a Punk Rocker

saltringangell's the time it would take (to fix my heart)

@sixhours's Morning Sickness

@slippinmickeys's Mulder being there when Scully gives birth, NOT INSPIRED BY ACTUAL EVENTS, North of Zero/More North of Zero

snow_and_rain's Bill and me

Sukie Tawdry's The Way Things Are (1/2)"/"(2/2)"

@teethnbone's The Ansted Graft

touchstoneaf's Amor Fati: The Fated Love

@welsharcher's Toothpaste (she wrote it for me!)

@wexleresque's stars

All of @sigritandtheelves's S8 or post S8 AUs (Ground, Headcanon: Scully’s first Mother’s Day, Off Limits, A 2004 AU, Advent to name a few)

(I have to tear myself away from short fics/writers because the list would never end; but I'll begin and end with: every. single. one. of baronessblixen's and melforbes's and @ghostbustermelanieking's and @o6666666's and @enigmaticdrblockhead's and @mappingthexfiles's and @settle-down-frohike's and welsharcher's fics. Can't describe in words how much their work is now coded into my DNA. Must reads also include previous authors listed and @scenes-in-between and @storybycorey and @suitablyaggrieved and @leiascully and @dreamingofscully and @msrafterdark and @writingwell and @danascullysjournal and @numinousmysteries and @television-overload, and @thescullyphile and @swinging-stars-from-satellites and @two-microscopes and @sharpestasp and @ragnarockz and @invidiosa and @spidey-is-tired and @thursdayinspace and @ellivia and @skelavender and @pennyserenade and @careful-fears and @mollybecameanengineer and many, many more.)

Recommendations for X-files Fics?

I've read a lot of the newer ones from Ao3, but I heard that the x-files fandom is a little special with sites predating Ao3 and fanfiction.com.

So what are the must read fics? What are your all time favourites, you know, the ones you've saved to re-read later. I'm a baby-phile what have I missed?

Some of my re-reads

Unbroken by Fox_sync

Felix Felicis by misslilli

More Than A Feeling by SisterSpooky1013

Goshen by Bonetree (Todesfuge)

Universal Invariants by Syntax6

[randomfoggytiger]

Mulder's Alien Baby Baby Trauma In-Depth (Part XVI): Testy Territorialism

Vienen is… quite the follow-up to Empedocles: an infinitely better MOTW (an old classic's return) meshed with the traditional X-Files episode conceits (Mulder in the basement, Scully slicing and dicing, Skinner holding back warily, Kersh barely restraining himself from beheading everyone) and a twist-- Doggett’s presence. 

However. There are also a few… issues. Namely, that the episode doesn’t do the best job explaining important character beats: we are merely left with fleeting glances and half-spoken dialogue (par for the course for Season 8, really.) But there are important details baked into the dialogue, details that are at least substantive enough to point to greater implication. Mulder and Scully’s relationship remains intact and just as in sync as the previous episode. Mulder himself is crawling back into the saddle with a vengeance.

Yet, Mulder and Doggett’s budding friendship… seems to flail. What happened to their exchange in Empedocles’s hospital hallway, when Mulder opened up in an attempt to reassure Doggett’s turbulent emotions? Why is he back to critical acrimony?

Well. We’re given brief, fleeting bits of dialogue that say a lot while showing very little-- an inevitability likely brought on by having too much to do and too little time to do it. (At least everyone had a part in the episode, I suppose.) Those dialogue pieces are vital to this discussion; and, therefore, we must begin at the very beginning.

“Betrayals” and Boys Being Boys

Vienen opens on a strikingly similar parallel to the Pilot: the skeptic making his way down the bowels of the FBI, heading towards the basement office and finding Mulder alone and entrenched in his files.

Doggett, not having expected anyone in the office, turns from wary expectation to deliberate caution: an excommunicated Mulder scurrying around the forbidden fruit could mean a myriad of things-- things Doggett doesn’t want to be tangled up in and painted as the enemy for. 

Mulder looks up, caught; but takes his sweet time pawing over the files, stacking them together, and addressing his replacement as nonchalantly as possible. His shoulders are set, his eyes are fixed, and his mouth is placed in an innocently relaxed, straight line-- he’s paying attention, playing at breezy confidence; and guarded against Doggett’s by-the-books motives and possible actions.

In short, both men are startled and aware that Mulder’s actions point to some silent message about his read on Agent Doggett’s character. Doggett, who keeps trying to get off Mulder’s bad side, sees this as a possible omen; Mulder, who took Scully’s advice in the last episode and was disappointed-- we’ll get to that-- is unrepentant and a hair shy of blatant dismissal. 

"Am I interrupting anything, Agent Mulder?"

"Nothing you'd be too terribly interested in, Agent Doggett," Mulder sloughs off, tone flat.

In the days that have followed Scully’s release from the hospital, the goodwill Mulder extended has been revoked. The olive branch still hangs between them-- an act of respect for his partner’s opinion-- but any open emotion expressed to one John Doggett has been quickly yanked back and just as quickly hidden away.

Doggett picks up on his mood; and, after dropping the office keys to the left, approaches with a straightforward, though softer, question. "Agent Mulder, what are you doing down here?"

"I'm looking into the recent death of an oil worker," Mulder responds, handing over the folder he's holding freely.

Giving it a cursory glance, Doggett affirms, "Yeah, I got a heads up on it from you a couple days ago."

Hands on his hips, Mulder reiterates, "That's what I'm doing here"-- a very telling reminder.

And there it is: a quick, there-and-gone reply that establishes Mulder’s behavior throughout the episode. Mulder went out of his way to pass along vital x-files information a few days ago; and when Doggett dismissed the black oil case, set it aside as not worth his and Scully’s time, Mulder felt the other man came up short-- that his replacement didn’t have the natural curiosity to suit the files; and that, in conclusion, he had betrayed the integrity of the work.  Worse still, this is the first time since his return that Mulder has extended his own research and efforts to someone outside the core group-- to a newcomer, to him, that arrived on the scene by happenstance and who, somehow, became enmeshed with Mulder’s friends and partner. While Scully was recovering from her abruption, he reached out to his replacement; and was met with silence and dead ends. 

Again, Doggett catches on-- the dig does not go unnoticed. Pausing, then stiffening his own stance, he attempts to assuage the grievance. "Agent Mulder, I understand you have more than a proprietary interest in these cases. But I can't help it if you're not assigned to this unit anymore."

The X-Files co-founder doesn't respond. Doesn't move an inch; doesn't so much as flinch or blink. Reading the impenetrable posture of judgment correctly, Doggett turns aside to drop the file somewhere else.

"I didn't see any reason to pursue this oil worker case."

"Ah, well, maybe you missed the fact that this victim's corpse washed ashore in Port Aransas, Texas. Massive flash burns on 90 percent of his body," Mulder reminds, inflexible.

"I read the report, Agent Mulder, if you're insinuating I didn't" Doggett smoothly bristles, turning back around in mild offense.

"Then you must also know that this man was not the only man to disappear from the Galpex-Orpheus platform that night, but one of two men." Mulder's voice begins to rise as he stresses an odd word here or there, emphasizing the key parts he believes his replacement carelessly overlooked. "The communications officer is also missing--"

"The company attributes that--" Doggett cuts in, not willing to take anymore lecturing, determined to prove he's done his research "--to an explosion on the rig. A 'blowout.' Which they say caused Simon de la Cruz's burns."

Mulder nods dismissively-- nearly rolling his eyes (which he will do later.) "Burns the M.E. said in his report were not inconsistent with exposure to high-levels of radiation."

"'Not inconsistent'," Doggett stipulates, less tense now that the facts have been established between them. "It's not what I'd call a ringing endorsement."

Working up to a paranormal explanation, Mulder's voice rises another level while he points to an arm demonstratively. "These files include the same kind of radiation phenomena. Tissue destroyed by exposure to--"

And here a magical thing happens: Doggett surprises Mulder-- takes Mulder’s profiling and personal assumptions and turns them on their head. While the VCU’s Golden Boy is correct in technicality, the motives he’d ascribed to his rival's dismissive work ethic are not. 

"--Black Oil," Doggett cuts in. He advances after Mulder's nod. "5 years ago you and Agent Scully investigated a case of a WW II plane salvaged from the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. Where a substance was brought to the surface which you describe--”

As Doggett continues to whip out factoids from the files, Mulder is pulled up short: his shuttered, protective veneer falls from his face in shock. His eyes narrow, his eyebrows lower then pitch, his body freezes, and his focus lasers in as he soaks up the other man’s prowess. He’d written off his replacement as a malevolent actor, then as a rival, then as a blind and deaf fool; now, he realizes Doggett is researched and capable.

"--as a highly contagious virus of extraterrestrial origin--"

Mulder smiles, unable to catch himself at Doggett's description. Despite the bite of cynicism lurking in its corners (similar to the one he gave Agent Reyes, here), it is a true, uncalculated grin as well-- the joy of hearing someone else, anyone else, repeat what he has been howling about for years. And respect: a tiny glimmer at the bottom reflecting his growing admiration that Doggett says what something is, and plainly.

“--that has radioactive properties and can take over a man's body. And is part of an alien conspiracy to colonize the planet, if I'm not mistaken."

"And you'd like to help, but you left your light saber at home," Mulder quips-- an acknowledgment that Doggett had read his mind like a jedi master; but that he, too, is capable of the same tricks.

Doggett responds in kind, raising his eyebrows, squeezing his eyes, and shaking his head comically. He's quite proud of himself, and he's not ashamed to be figured out quickly and easily. As long as they’re getting along and getting the job done. More importantly, as long as Agent Scully’s happy. 

In an edgier tone, Mulder asks, "How'd you end up down here, Agent Doggett?" Waiting for Doggett to look back, inquisitively open, he adds, "Kersh catch you peeing in his cornflakes?"

Doggett doesn't know what to make of this question. On the one hand, Mulder is drawing an "us versus them" line, Kersh on one side and both x-files-adjacent inmates on the other. The malevolent distrust, then, is gone at least-- a carry-over from working alongside each other in Empedocles. On the other hand, Mulder's tone is indiscernible. Is he poking and prodding; and to what end? More importantly, it betrays that Mulder is largely ignorant of how Doggett was assigned, or why-- which means Scully hasn't told her old partner about her new partner. And if Scully hasn't relayed that information to Mulder... why hasn't she, and for what purpose?

So, he keeps silent, unable to figure out where to go from here (and Mulder clocks that silence.)

At least the air is cleared between them, Doggett figures, despite their difference of opinion. 

Or so he thinks. 

ENTER SCULLY

The office phone rings. 

Mulder and Doggett lock eyes, studying each other. Both are caught in indecision, wondering if the other will make a territorial lunge to establish dominance; and what that would mean afterward.

Arm extended, Mulder inches to the jack first, looking between Doggett’s hovering, halted hand and restrained, frozen posture. With a sudden bitter twist, he dips his head to the left, looks up, and claims the phone-- acting on a thought that must have passed through his mind. 

Doggett remains still, not asserting his rights in this strange dance of seniority. When Mulder passes the phone over, turning it up with an expression of plastered invitation, he misses the latter's impossibly placid mask completely, a smile curling over what he perceives to be the former head of the files’ generous, symbolic hand-over. 

How wrong he is. 

As Doggett answers, Mulder hangs back, a more natural smile of enthusiasm slipping transiently onto his face-- a tell that he knows it's Scully on the other end, and that he can guess what conference she's currently trapped in.

It's plausible, then, that he suspected (or knew) there would be a call and hung around the office hoping to intercept it.

"John Doggett."

"Where are you?"-- it's Scully-- "The Deputy Director's waiting."

"Yeah. I'm just on my way up."

"Agent Doggett-- why didn't you tell me you were pursuing this Texas oil worker case?"

"Because I'm not."

Eyebrows raised, she explains, "Well, there's an exec from the oil company here who says he was contacted by a man in our office."

"No, that was Agent Mulder."

Looking up from his busywork pretense (fiddling with his coat pocket), Mulder slowly, subtly, unrepentantly pouts.

"What are you talking about?" Scully pushes.

Doggett, realizing that he’s been pacified and partially duped, decisively ends the charade once and for all, roping the instigator into this mess and taking an unambiguous back seat. 

"Gonna let him answer that."

Mulder isn’t bothered in the least: he’s surprised and intrigued by this turn of events. Was it more than he hoped for, or more than he expected from Doggett? Either way, there’s a puzzled emotion in his expression, something he is rapidly working out. 

Mulder’s entrance into Kersh’s office is theatrical... for him. The script describes his behavior as "enjoying his old role as agent provocateur", and it truly fits. Face aglow, smug smirk firmly in place, he advances into the room, gentling slightly after spotting Scully waiting unwittingly by the desk. 

Sliding right up in front of her, he gloats, “Just like old times."

This is a little moment that the episode half-builds on later: the knowledge that he’s open to sharing his conspiratorial meddling with Scully (e.g. breaking onto a prohibited research site in War of the Coprophages, sneaking into an autopsy bay for evidence in Fight the Future, and stealing sensitive information from the government’s archives, thrice, in Three Words) and had probably planned on roping her into this case sometime soon. He’s more openly delighted whenever their paths cross this episode (even though he is doing a lot of solo work behind her back-- a tactic Scully uses, too, throughout their career. Both are cut from the same rebellious cloth.) 

Scully, shocked, stays quiet; but she is not outwardly disapproving-- not at all to the degree she might be (or would pretend to be) if she and Mulder were alone. She remains rooted, nods, and cycles through minute alert, cautiously hesitant expressions until Kersh's patience breaks ("Now it's all making sense.")  

Mulder exaggeratedly sighs, hunching his shoulders up as if facing the big bad in a play. When Scully-- taking the opportunity to escape Kersh’s attention-- skitters off to the sofa, his eyes follow her, fondly, whispering a quiet, "Tough crowd," her way. Mulder is checking his partner's reaction to see if he's taken things too far: not that that would stop him; but he's actively clueing himself back into her moods again, publicly, and trying to alleviate her anxiety for him.

It's a tiny detail that I'm immensely thankful to David Duchovny for-- a reversal of Mulder's averted, jittery eyes in Three Words; a second act to his ease and lessening strain in Empedocles. Another small hint at his return to his former self.

An interesting dynamic begins to unfold here-- or, more accurately, the audience becomes witness to a planned demonstration of the show’s dynamics going forward:

Scully takes a seat, bowing out from the immediate proceedings whilst lobbying questions from her perch-- a position of controlled removal, one which allows her one foot in and out of the files. Her maternity leave is coming up soon; and we know she hadn’t intended to return (Alone), not with a newborn who needed her to come home each night. (The FBI provides excellent family support; but its more mainstream work is also a lower and much safer risk, by and large, than the X-Files division.) However, that doesn’t stop the pull, the allure, of the basement-- “Get out while you still can, Agent Doggett,” she says in Alone: what she means is, before you catch it and can't leave. 

Doggett now stands off to Mulder’s side, arms crossed, lips pinched, expression serious. He has become the new skeptic, the fill-in for Scully’s old role. Not surprising, since the show needed someone to fill her shoes while she filled Mulder’s, but it's undeniably pointed. 

Mulder is the only one from the old times who hasn’t changed-- more accurately, who has but hasn’t wanted to admit it. He’s relishing in poking old hornets’ nests and brandishing forth for old truths, but he hasn’t realistically assessed whether he can, or even if he should, anymore.

Vienen, then, is a case that strips away Mulder’s last self-deception: an unrelenting reminder that life has moved on, that priorities have changed for him; and that, though he might think this unwise, unfair, or even dangerous to his old work, the truth is no longer wholly tied up in the X-Files. As he tells Scully in Essence, “This isn’t about the x-files-- this is only about you.” 

By the close of Vienen, Mulder has realized what is at stake. He is stretched too thin, and worn too weary, to juggle the world and his abduction experiences and his impending fatherhood, let alone like he used to (to be discussed.)  He takes the blame for another man and walks away-- the old self-sacrificial wound coming to the fore-- but that departure is more bitter than sweet: resignation instead of peaceful resolution. Alone prods his feelings about leaving-- his avoidance of those feelings-- and ends with his acceptance of Doggett as the new head. Essence picks up that thread and Existence weaves back through it (i.e. Mulder putting his family completely at Doggett and Reyes’s mercy once he loses faith in himself.) But it’s not until Existence’s close that Mulder fully realizes that he gambled away his last chance at happiness, and almost lost. It’s not until he holds his son in his arms and marvels at HIS and Scully’s miracle that he realizes that the decisions he and his partner were forced to do weren’t at odds with who they are and what they can still do, together. The X-Files might no longer be theirs, but the truth is out there; and they gained a truth of their own besides. 

Mulder’s demeanor switches from professionally flippant to antagonistically serious when Kersh threatens, not agrees, to order an x-files agent out to the Galpex-Orpheus. 

"We're talking about an oil rig, 150 miles at sea. You can't send a pregnant woman," he nearly spits, head twisting from his boss to his partner.

Scully doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react except for a slight eyebrow twitch acknowledging her former partner’s statement. It’s true, she can’t fly; and if Mulder weren’t there railing at Kersh for her, she’d likely be poking at the same stream of logic issuing from her superior's mouth (a behavior she, perhaps, picked up from Maggie Scully, post here.) 

Kersh cuts off all protests with a conniving, “I’m not sending Agent Scully”; and it takes only a second or two for Mulder to work out who he is sending: Agent Doggett, Kersh’s (formerly) cherished potential. The doubter. Shot down and irritated, Mulder rolls his eyes, turning to catch Doggett’s implacable, knowing look. 

We’re not shown Scully’s reaction, but it’s likely similar to her new partner’s: dogged professionalism and an intent to do things right. 

NO MORE MR. NICE GUY

Of course, Mulder completely upstages Doggett’s investigation, beating him to the rig in plainclothes and sitting down to catch an interview before the rightful man shows up. 

And, of course, Mulder, anticipates a reaction-- be it a kick back or an outright challenge-- from Kersh’s errand boy. Slickly, he brushes aside the other man’s thinly-veiled confrontation ("Agent Mulder. Can I have a word with you?") Instead, he wedges him into an impossible position: "If you give me a minute-- I'm just getting filled in on the details of this investigation. Why don't you pull up a seat and introduce yourself so Mr. Taylor won't have to repeat himself."

Doggett, rightfully frustrated, is presented with two options: either assert his authority and destroy Mulder’s credibility with the crew-- in effect, throw a fit-- or let things slide, for now, in an effort to prove he’s not here to fight a petty turf war. At the same time, he's also aware that he is being unequivocally, and unashamedly, maneuvered: treated like a second-rate follow-up to a better and cleverer act. 

And while the wheels spin donuts on the asphalt in his head, Mulder continues to pin him with a rigidly territorial stare from across the room. A warning only Doggett can see: one which states he won't go down without a very loud, very embarrassing fight. 

Professionalism and grinding, instilled respect-- for the oil worker, if nothing else-- beats pride; and John Doggett sits, tamping down his immeasurable frustration with effort. 

During the interrogation, Mulder lets Doggett lead most of the questions, observing him here or there to see how he reacts to the witness's answers. Both men know the worker is lying; but before x-files defacto agent can ask another question, Mulder suddenly wraps up the interview.

"Well, I guess that's it. In a nutshell. Thank you, Mr. Taylor."

Without another word-- and in a move that could easily be mistaken for, or coincide along with, a show of dominance-- he stands abruptly and stalks off, leaving Doggett to trail after. The latter's frustrated "Agent Mulder!" is resolutely ignored-- a silent command to keep up and play along. 

Is it fair of Mulder to act out, continually, on Scully’s new partner? No. But Mulder does have a history of poor behavior when in emotionally compromising states. He rebuffed, then toyed with, then opened up to Scully in the Pilot; and since then, he's treated her with far greater respect than anyone else he's worked with. Mulder has no tolerance for anyone who tests his patience with their blind or willful disbelief-- he won't wait on them to make sweet or kiss it better. He expects them to earn their keep: prove their place, win his respect, catch on and come along. Brush him off or lie or belittle his theories, and he will do the same in return-- pettily in two-fold. Throw in PTSD from his abduction and a sense of being disrespected and swept aside, and it makes for a nasty combo. 

Further still, Mulder is also testing how much of a pencil-pusher Doggett is. He uses irritation to reveal hidden motives: make them angry enough and you will hear how they truly feel, or what thoughts they're harboring but don't want to admit. In the script, Agent Doggett is a confrontational figure, more willing to push back against Mulder's claims on the files, more likely to remind the former head that he and Scully lead the investigations now. In short, this approach worked on paper. It plays out differently in the series, however: Robert Patrick acts the character with more circumspect politeness and awareness. John Doggett's not here to make a fuss unless you poke him about his son. But exploding over Luke is one thing, and standing up to Kersh for the x-files is another. By pushing his buttons and indirectly forcing him to keep up, Mulder is also giving Doggett the opportunity to step up (which we shall hear straight from Mulder's lips pretty soon.)

Is it fair? No. Is it Mulder? Yes.

CONCLUSION

Doggett, whether intentionally or not, shot himself in the foot by dismissing Mulder's first overture of trust. However, he is not the only one to blame for this situation-- if he even is-- because Mulder is returning that perceived wrong with a double dose. 

What will result from their upcoming confrontation: reestablished footing, or equally exchanged doubts and dismissals?

The episode’s almost a third of the way through, so I doubt it will be smooth sailing.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!  

[teiasviago]

Dana Scully in “Medusa”

[tenderhaunted]

im on s8 of xfiles n i miss david duchovny so much..

[ghostpunkrock]

it’s such a shame how completely boring xfiles s8 when scully is still so beautiful

[mulderscully]

about that best xfiles poll - isn't it so funny no one (so far) has voted for s8/9?

listen i'm a proud s8 apologist bc i love temporary death trope but no way in hell would i choose it as my favorite 😂😭

[ruscha]

the thing abt xfiles season 7 is the plot is so meanderingly bad, so unfocused and desperately grasping at any relevant remaining threads, and of the only 2 genuinely interesting things that happen— mulder’s abduction & scully’s pregnancy announcement— one of those was pretty much out of the showrunners’ control and the other was probably written in to help fill duchovny’s absence. so by virtue of this season being so devoid of even a passable xfiles plot, i can already tell s8 has a chance of feeling better by comparison and that’s crazy

[ms31x129]

Little Boy Blue

Summary:            

“Son, you look like you’re going through some hard times. And every once in a while you gotta accept a little help.”

XFXFXFXFXFXFXFXFXFXFXFXF

It was almost time. He could feel it.

He walks to the end of the room and pulls back the ugly brown drape.

Yes, it would be soon.

He knows it, can almost physically sense it, the same way he can feel the cold that is creeping through the edges of the window pane. Frost clings thick to the glass like tiny snow drifts in the corners. Absently he uses his fingernail to carve a heart into the icy landscape.

He remembers once doing the same thing to the soft skin of her back. She’d giggled as he’d traced ‘I Love You’ with a feather-like touch.

His eyes darken when he remembers finding the trace of red the laser had missed.

And just like that he recalls the city he’s lost the most in. His nails dig in, scratching out the ice-etched heart.

He should have known better than to seek refuge in that wretched city of all places.

He left in May and now in December, when most people are celebrating the holidays with family and friends, he’s just getting through each day.

He’s traveled across the country hundreds of times; usually she was by his side. She wasn’t always happy about it, but she was there.

But he’s tired of moving, of running. Tired of being without contact.

When he left, he’d thought maybe he could teach. Access to whatever false ID and credentials he would need was easily remedied. He’d moved every 3 days from May to July. By then his funds had dwindled and needed to be replenished somehow.

* * * * *

A small town with a community college in Arizona needed a Mythology instructor; Professor Kent Searcher accepted. He gathered the text books he needed, read them cover to cover and had his class syllabus prepared in three days. He found it ironic that he was looking forward to using some of the knowledge he’d worked a lifetime to achieve in this capacity.

Surprisingly, he was content teaching the students–some of them so willing to believe–who didn’t need solid scientific evidence.

The students sensed it the moment their professor’s mood changed, his animated speech breaking off in mid-sentence.

He cleared his throat and bowed his head, asking them to please study quietly until the end of class. He removed his glasses and sat, thumbs digging into the corners of his eyes.

The motion hadn’t been casual enough that they’d missed his reddened eyes and several wayward tears.

He got word the last week in September. They were coming.

He’d left with 8 bags in May. By October, when Mark Hunter took a job coaching High School Basketball, there were only 4. Two of those remained in the trunk of the car.

Six weeks later he accepted a dinner invitation from the 8th grade English teacher. He was lonely and longed for some one on one adult conversation.

She was attractive, though her beauty paled in comparison to the one he still loved. The one he still dreamed about every night he closed his eyes.

He arrived at 7. She smiled and ushered him into the living room. He made himself comfortable on the couch while she excused herself for a moment. He was shocked when she returned and placed a baby into his arms, “Could you hold him while I check the oven?” He nodded dumbly.

How could he forget she’d told him about her 6 month old son?

She returned to find him openly weeping, even as her son slept on, oblivious. He stood, handed her the baby and left.

* * * * *

Finally a bright spot on the horizon. He was needed.

At home. He was going home.

Danger.

A mad dash.

He was chased between boxcars and engines.

A missed chance.

A petite figure stood on the platform, watching the train with him depart.

He ran to his car, eyes burning, tears clouding his vision. He was somewhere in Ohio when exhaustion overcame him and he drove the car into a ditch.

* * * * *

He was found unconscious and taken to the local clinic.

The mechanic who towed the car offered him a job in exchange for the repairs necessary to get his vehicle back on the road. Mr. Guthrie didn’t even mind that he didn’t have any automotive experience short of putting the key in the ignition. He just said, “Son, you look like you’re going through some hard times. And every once in a while you gotta accept a little help.”

He became a wiz at tire rotation, fixing flats and oil changes. He heard the explosion as he was walking to the garage one day. Guthrie’s Repair Shop was a ball of flames; black smoke clouds floated up from the building. He ran back to the bed and breakfast, threw as much as he could into one bag and left town in the truck Mr. Guthrie had loaned him.

He’d abandoned the truck 2 hours later.

He didn’t know if the man who’d taken a complete stranger under his wing was alive or dead as he boarded a bus headed east.

Just one more thing to weigh heavily on his mind.

As the bus ate the highway miles, he fell into a fitful sleep, realizing; each time They found him was sooner than the last.

* * * * *

Donovan Seeker left the grocery store where he worked as a stock boy… man, went to his dingy efficiency apartment and changed into his jogging gear.

Even the snow of mid-December didn’t slow his pace. His normal route took him within 5 blocks of the Liberty Bell, but this night he travelled a new path.

He ran until he spotted the shop. He turned 180 degrees, saw the bar across the street and made his way in.

Dirty, dark and smoky.

A place for adulterers, drug dealers, prostitutes… and whores. Low-life, scum.

The kind of place she shouldn’t have been in… but had.

Anger lashed through him. He turned, slammed the door open.

Run, run, run. Legs pumping. Heart pounding.

What should have been ancient history wasn’t. It just wasn’t.

He made it back to the apartment, unlocked and opened the door with a forceful bang against the wall. He stripped quickly, climbed into the shower.

Hot, hot water. Scrub, scrub. Harder. Faster. He tried to get rid of the images, the anger.

Finally he shut the water off. Dried off, calmer than before. A car door slammed, he made his way to the window.

They were coming.

He grabbed his jacket, his wallet. Reached into the pocket quickly and felt the softness of his one memento. He heard them coming down the hall. Out of time, he opened the window and crawled out onto the fire escape. The old window slammed, catching his jacket sleeve.

They kicked the door in, searched the room. A leather jacket was hanging from the window. They looked down and saw him disappearing around the corner.

They smiled, knowing they would succeed soon.

* * * * *

He’s left his frosty window.

Reclining on the bed he lets his insecurities and anger reign.

Why is he the one running? Why aren’t they together?

Instead he’s the one alone. He’s the one unemployed and surprised at being depressed over getting laid off from a janitor’s job.

At least she still has….

While he has nothing, nothing at all.

Maybe she’s moved on, has another man, another lover. Someone to help raise their son.

Their son. HIS son. A son he should be able to see dressed in a little Santa outfit tonight, Christmas Eve. And then after he’s asleep, the naughty elf could come out and play. He could urge mommy to get naked and on her hands and knees in front of the Christmas tree, while they play 'drive the sleigh’.

Maybe it’s Doggett. He’d sure managed to fill in nicely in the work place. Maybe he’s warming the sheets too.

He knows it isn’t him, and hasn’t been since before William. So few times really; when was William conceived? He hopes it was after they’d shared a beer and movie date together. A happy, comfortable moment in their lives. He hates thinking she was already pregnant and feeding liquor to the tiny person growing inside of her.

He remembers the day he left with such clarity.

* * * * *

William was unusually alert and fussy for a newborn. Could he sense he might never see his father again? Scully started crying and he’d taken the baby into the bedroom, stretching out on the bed with him. Still shirtless after his shower, he held his son against his skin. His large hands held his precious package with tenderness and awe.

He began to sing, softly, his voice full of emotion.

Scully came into the room just in time to hear him choke out, 'he learned to walk while I was away’. She stifled a sob and left them alone.

William quieted, listening intently to his father’s voice singing a heartfelt rendition of 'Cat’s in the Cradle’, he’d finally dropped off to sleep.

After placing William safe and sound in his cradle. Mulder finished dressing and went into the living room.  Scully sat on the couch, quiet, subdued. They avoided looking at each other. He picked up his bags and was almost out the door before Scully was in his arms. She wanted to make love, she didn’t care that she’d just given birth. Kissing her lips and brushing her tears away with his thumbs, he gently declined.

Two hours later, on the road to nowhere, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the only thing he had of William’s. He brought it to his nose and inhaled the sweet baby smell, felt the soft yarn tickling his skin. Swearing to himself to never, never lose it.

* * * * *

But he did.

In fucking Philadelphia.

He lost the only physical connection he had to his son. Such an insignificant thing really, just the warming cap he’d worn during his short hospital stay, but it’d meant everything to him to have something that had actually touched his son.

There hadn’t been time for pictures.

He goes to the window again, sees his reflection and the tears streaming down his face. He has nothing to remember his son by, while she has it all.

He wonders how long it takes for love to turn to hate. He wonders how much longer it will be for him….

And if he’ll run the next time They come for him.

The end…

                                 Notes:  

I wrote this years ago. Started it just after the S8 premiere and finished it just after Trust No 1 aired. It’s on Gossamer, but I’m going to update it a tad along with my other fic and migrate the updates here. So below you’ll find original notes.

1. I miss the X Files. 2. I miss Mulder’s passion and wonder. 3. This is dedicated to Jemirah, she makes my wild ramblings not so-well-rambling. *g* Thank you.