Title: Mother Love
Rating: Pg-13
Category: light MSR
Summary: Three points of view are shared over the course of Mother's Day.
Archive: oh please do, just let me know where.
Feedback: I live for it... xenoprobe@hotmail.com or www.xenoprobe.com

Disclaimer: Not mine, never were... make no profit- have no money- do not sue :)

Author's notes: Ok. I know it's a week late but things at work took over and I was forced to come back to this fic later on. My friend Belle requested a Mother's Day fic- something different or unusual. I'm afraid my story is not the unique voyage she may have hoped for but is full of angst. I like angst. Angst is good. So I do hope you like it. Feedback me and let me know please!

*~*~*~*~*~*

Mother Love
By xenoprobe

I could see the look on her face change as soon as Bill and his family left. My mother had been not so discreetly asking me what was wrong all day- with her eyes and her facial gestures. I attempted to belay her concerns by demonstrating how capable I was, handling Matty, chatting with my again pregnant sister-in-law. I exhausted myself interacting with my family, trying to distract my brain from the nagging feeling of loss and disappointment.

Mother's Day wasn't easy for me, even before losing Emily. It had always served as a reminder of the path I had not taken- a husband, children and a home. I used to mourn for that choice, now I just mourn for Emily. Rationally, it seems unfair that I call myself her mother, when I was only there for her for such a brief time. She hardly knew me and I certainly wasn't the woman she'd grown up knowing as a parent. But even in those few days together, my whole life was turned upside down to take her in and make her mine. It was important to me that she knew she was loved, and that I was doing all that I could for her.

And so this occasion had turned into a day of avoidance. I attended the family gathering to honour my own mother, but everyone was aware of my loss; and I hated their pity.

I asked Mulder to accompany me, under the pretense of the loss of his own mother this year. I lacked the courage to tell him I needed his strength. I needed his resolve and instead I let him back out without even pressing him to join me. Honestly, I think he still hates being around Bill. He told me once that his presence was upsetting to my brother and therefore would be upsetting to my mom. What he doesn't realize is just how much my mother loves him.

So there I sat on the couch, watching my mother tidy things.

"Mom, sit. Let me clean up."

"No, no, Dana- its ok. You rest." I didn't need rest, I just needed her to either speak her mind or treat me like nothing was any different from any other day of the year.

"You've had a long day."

"Really mom, I had a good day. Tammy's looking great, Bill's happy to be fathering a family and Matty is growing so fast..."

"Dana- honey, you don't have to put up a front for me." She looked at me through sorrowful eyes and sat down at my side.

"Listen, mom, it's been years now. I'm fine, really."

"Are you? Are you really fine? There was a time when you wanted what Bill has, a home and family."

"And I don't anymore. It's a choice mom."

"A choice that was made for you."

I shake my head; I know what she's getting at, my stolen ovum, my cancer, my bareness. "Mom, listen to me, " I paused to take her hands in mine, "I'm fine. I lit a candle for Emily in church this morning. There's nothing else I can do."

"Well, I wish Fox had come today, I was expecting him."

"You know how Bill feels about him mom- Mulder didn't want to ruin Mother's Day for you." I smiled weakly. I could see the mood in her change, I could even feel it and I knew what's coming next. I put up my hand to halt her, just as her mouth opened to speak. "Don't go there mom."

"What?" She smiled and patted my arm. "I was just going to say he's always welcome in my home. It is my home Dana, not Bill's you know."

I smiled again and stood up, stretching my tired muscles. I grabbed a few glasses from the coffee table and made my way into the kitchen. I glanced back over my shoulder at my mother, ever stoic, ever graceful; her strength was an inspiration to me.

When I came back in the room, she had disappeared to someplace else in the house. I curled up on the couch and pulled the afghan over me.

*~*~*~*~*~*

I was worried today. I know Dana hates it when I fuss but there was a darkness in her eyes that made me constantly aware of her pain. I stood at the base of the stairs, watching her rest- in sleep; she looked just like my baby girl. But even with her arms full of her nephew today, she carried with her a certain sadness, a certain burden.

I commend her though. She is a stronger woman than I am and I often draw my own courage from her example- it amazes me still that one's children can be so inspirational. They have all taught me so much over these years. But Dana, she is special. She has suffered and persevered. And I wanted so badly to wrap her up and rock her to sleep, like I did when she was little but her stubbornness has kept me at arms' length for years now.

I sat down on the steps and fiddled with the hem of my shirt, thinking of my daughter and her partner. I have searched within myself for feelings of resentment, of blame, where Fox is concerned. None of these terrible things would have affected my family so profoundly had Dana never known him. But in seeking out these feelings. I realized that they simply did not exist. If he had been uncaring, if he had been unkind, I would have judged him differently but his love for Dana is the most profound I've ever witnessed.

When she turned up in the hospital all those years back, he fought for her. He knew her wishes to be taken off life support; he'd witnessed her living will. But still he fought, and to this day I'd swear she came back for him.

I've seen them both do it for each other- they reach the brink of death only to recover miraculously for the sake of one another. My only worry is that they'll never be honest enough with themselves to recognize this love between them.

I saw Dana stir from the corner of my eye and I stood to peer over the back of the couch. She was still asleep. Just then, I heard a tiny knock at my front door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I ascended the stairs to Maggie Scully's house in two easy strides. But when I reached the front door I froze. I had declined Scully's invite to come over for dinner earlier, perhaps Maggie wouldn't be pleased to see me if she thought I'd snubbed her on Mother's day. I turned and sat on the stoop, examining the bouquet of flowers in my hands.

That afternoon had been wretched. I'd ended up crying on my couch after attempting to masturbate. It was somehow fitting and altogether Freudian that after trying, I'd collapsed in tears over the loss of my mother. I lay there on the couch, grieving her death, grieving for all the knowledge she took with her. I berated myself for not having listened more, for not visiting as often and for demanding so much of her upon those brief encounters when I needed something specific. I was a horrible son.

I could feel the tension bob in my throat. I tried to deflect it by thinking of Maggie and of Scully- of what they could be doing on the other side of the heavy wooden door. Likely, they were sipping tea, discussing the past, talking of moments of Scully's childhood or something equally wonderful. They could be talking about Melissa or Bill or of Charlie, whom I'd never met. I sat contemplating about my partner as a child, her long red hair and freckles in the sun, I sometimes wish I'd known her then.

All of a sudden I was struck with the horror of having forgotten about today's significance to Scully. Mother's Day. I had failed to honour her, had not even thought of Emily until that very moment. I looked back at my meager flowers and realized they simply weren't enough to express what I was feeling for both of the women on the other side of the door. I stood to leave then turned around in indecision and knocked quietly on the door. Maggie Scully appeared at the threshold, the house was dark behind her.

She stepped onto the porch to greet me, eyes smiling.

"Fox. I knew you'd come today." She hugged me and I was warmed deep down.

"Maggie... Happy Mother's Day." I produced the bouquet from behind my back.

"Oh, how sweet of you."

"Is-"

"She's sleeping on the couch Fox, why don't we enjoy the air out here for a time." I've always been amazed at Maggie's ability to read me. She has a mother's command.

We turned and sat down side by side on the porch bench, I turned to face her.

"Fox," she glanced down at the flowers in her hands, "I never got to tell you in person, just how sorry I was to hear of you loss. Today must have been hard, I suppose holidays will be for a while." She spoke as someone who'd also suffered. It struck me as slightly horrible that this strong beautiful woman should be extending her sympathies when I had been, in one way or another, responsible for her sorrows. She looked back at me, her blues eyes as penetrating as her daughter's.

"Thank you. It was a rather long day." I replied lamely. I wanted to tell her I was sorry- sorry for Melissa, for Scully's cancer, for her loss of Emily... it was all a part of me. I saw Maggie's hand cover mine.

"Stop that Fox. I know what's going on in that mind of yours and I want you to stop berating yourself." I smiled at the irony, at her gift of knowing me so well. "I have made my peace with it all- so should you. I have never blamed you what has happened over these years. You are no more responsible for such things as I am, as Dana is- it has all been part of this life we live. One way or another, we encounter grief, loss. I can't stand thinking you hate yourself for things beyond your control."

"But Scully..." I could hear the strain of fighting tears in my raspy voice.

"Dana doesn't blame you Fox. She trusts you... she loves you." Maggie smiled and I straightened up in my seat. "She does, but she needs you too Fox, needs your strength."

"... And I need hers." I half- whispered.

"You two are the most stubborn characters I've ever known. Haven't you learned how to just stop and ask for what you want? Dana has a big heart, you know, but she guards it too closely and unfortunately she inherited her bull-headedness from her father."

"It doesn't make things easy." She squeezed my hand.

"It's never easy. Dana's been awfully low today. I tried to talk to her after Bill and the family left today but she just wouldn't let me in. Does she ever talk about Emily with you?"

"Not really," I paused to clear my throat then looked back to Mrs. Scully. "I have to admit I don't ask about her though. The whole thing is just too sad and cruel.

"I am acutely guilty for putting it out of my head. In fact, until I came here tonight, I had not thought of Emily and how Scully must be feeling. I'm a terrible partner."

"No you aren't, you just have a different way of handling things."

"But what you don't understand Mrs. Scully-"

"Maggie, please." She smiled.

"Maggie- what I've never told Scully, for fear of hurting her all over again, is that I felt attached to Emily too. Like a father." I lowered my head again, not wanting to face the reality of my admission. Just then I heard a quiet sob from in front of me.

Maggie stood and extended her hand to her daughter. Scully padded across the porch in her stocking feet, her eyes full of tears. I could see it on her face- indecision, whether to come to me or her mother.

Maggie led Scully to me and tiptoed back inside, leaving us alone in the night breeze.

*~*~*~*~*~*

I had seen their shadows from the living room window, I could hear them talking out on the porch and I knew, from the low timber of the male voice, that it was Mulder. I and sleepily made my way to the door. That's when I heard mom mention Emily. I stopped, feeling grief bubbling up in my throat again. I cracked the door and listened for a moment, then heard him confess-- confess he'd felt like a father to my child and I couldn't stop the tears from taking me over.

Mom saw me first, but when I shuddered with a sob, Mulder's head shot up too. I went to mom, but she led me to him.

"Mulder" I tried my shaky voice. "Why, why did you never tell me this?"

"I didn't want you to hurt anymore. I didn't want to trivialize your discovery of becoming a parent by adding that I felt like one too. And when she..." He was crying. Oh God. "...When she died, I didn't want you to feel like you had to comfort me Scully- I wanted to comfort you."

"Oh Mulder. I never knew. I honestly never even thought about it." His arms snaked around my waist and he pulled me to him, burying his head to my tummy.

*~*~*~*~*~*

She was standing between my knees, looking pale and young and sad. I had to hold her. She felt warm, I pressed my cheek to her belly and somehow this made me even more sad. It was this place, this empty place in her body that I wanted to fill, I wanted her to have it all and I wanted to be the one sharing in it. She could never bear her own children, not after the theft of her ovum; she would likely never adopt either, after the outcome of finding Emily. I squeezed her harder, as if I could push all the pain aside and find peace in her body entwined with mine.

Her hands scraped through my hair and I was electrified. I felt as if we were meant to touch and hold each other in this private, intimate way. Like we were finally permitted to take comfort in each other.

Her legs weakened and I guided her to my lap, still clinging to her. I caressed her teary cheeks and tucked her disheveled hair behind an ear. Her head fell against my shoulder and we rocked silently together until the crying subsided, until the faintest of smiles glittered on us both.

*~*~*~*~*~*

I sat back and sighed. I had stood peering through the curtains watching my daughter and Fox reconciling all their unspoken pain. It was marvelous to witness, their intimacy, their comfort, but it wasn't my place to keep spying so I made some tea and sat back down on the couch.

I only hope that they continue down this path. They need each other so much; the silence was only killing them. Now, they can explore together.

It may have been a roller coaster of a day. Bill yelling after his toddler, Dana sitting with her hand on Tammy's growing belly. My daughter's pain and then Fox's too. It was all so overwhelming. Yet here I was sipping tea and smiling and I couldn't have prayed for a more satisfying Mother's Day.

FIN

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