Title:  In the Bleak Midwinter
Author:  ML
Email:  msnsc21@aol.com
Feedback:  Makes a great present.
Distribution: just let me know where.
Spoilers: S8 generally
Rating: PG
Classification: Vignette
Keywords: Angst
Summary:  Scully finds some unexpected support when she needs 
it most.

Disclaimer:  These characters aren't mine.  They mostly belong 
to the actors who portrayed them, but Chris Carter created them, 
and Ten Thirteen and FOX own the rights.  I mean no infringement, 
and I'm not making any profit from them.

Thanks to Char, Tess, and Carol for quick beta and encouragement!

Written for the E-Muse Secret Santa Challenge.  More notes at the 
end.

=====

In the Bleak Midwinter
by ML

Christmas 2000
The Carolina Seacoast

No room at the inn, Dana Scully thought sardonically as she 
surveyed her temporary quarters.

"I'm really sorry, Dana," Tara was saying.  "The larger house 
wasn't available."

<'...and we didn't think you'd be coming,'> Scully supplied the 
implied end of the sentence silently.

"It's fine, Tara," she said for the third time.  Bill was just 
in the other room but he was wisely leaving Tara to do the dirty 
work.

"Dana, you could have my room," Margaret Scully chimed in.

Since they were the only two without significant others, it 
would make sense if she and her mother shared a room.  There 
was only one bed in Maggie's room, but it was a large one, 
plenty of room for two small women.  Even if one was pregnant.

Scully wasn't sure, however, that she wanted to share.  It 
wasn't bad, sharing a room with her mother, but she craved 
her privacy.  The truth was, though, that she didn't just 
crave, but needed solitude, having lived a solitary life for 
so long.   She loved her mother, loved her family, but needed 
to be able to get away from them, too.

Especially this year.  She already felt somewhat isolated from 
her family by virtue of what she did for a living.  It was 
difficult to talk about her work as an FBI pathologist 
regardless, but the work she has been involved in for the 
past eight years was even harder to explain.

And if she thought things were hard to explain before, they 
were impossible now.  Not that she felt a particular need to 
explain, but her separation from her family had never seemed 
so pronounced.

"No, Mom, really," she said.  "Don't worry about me."  Scully 
warned her mother with a look.  "The couch folds out, right?"

"That's what they told us,"  Tara said.  It looked comfortable 
enough, a deep and soft green leather situated directly in front 
of the large TV.

Scully swallowed a sob and turned away quickly.  Another, 
narrower, sofa occupied a cozy corner of the room near the 
fireplace.  For all the sleep she'd be getting, that one would 
probably suit her.

"Charlie and Sandie won't be here until tomorrow, so you could 
use that bedroom tonight," Poor Tara was still trying.

Scully put her hand on Tara's arm.  "Really, Tara, don't worry 
about it."

She had tried to get out of this family gathering weeks before, 
but her mother had pre-empted her.  "How often do you get to 
see Charlie?  Dana, I'd really like to have all my children 
together for Christmas."  Maggie Scully didn't say anything 
more, but she didn't often ask for anything either.  Scully 
felt she owed it to her mother to make the best of it.  What 
was one more difficult thing in the large number of difficulties 
she shouldered every day?

Still, maybe she'd find an excuse to leave early -- a pressing 
case, something.  Except that there wouldn't be anyone to call 
her and pull her away.  John Doggett was visiting family in 
Georgia, and her real partner wouldn't be calling her any more, 
ever.

Had it only been a few scant weeks since she'd witnessed 
Mulder's funeral, standing stoically by as they lowered his 
casket into the ground?  It still seemed completely unreal 
to her.  The trip to Montana was a terrible nightmare which 
had continued back in Washington and then in Raleigh.  Her 
mother had stood by her, calm and unflinching, even when 
Scully finally told her about the baby.  And then she'd 
played the mom card, getting her to agree to spend Christmas 
with the family.

At one time, she had been looking forward to the gathering, the 
first since her father had passed away.  Of course, she hadn't 
anticipated that she'd be mourning Mulder.  In her wildest 
fantasies, she'd envisioned an even larger family picture a 
year ago.  If things had gone as originally planned, she might 
already have had a child.  If she stretched the fantasy to its 
limits, Mulder might even be with her, making bad Bill jokes but 
making the best of things.  He'd look at the sofa and wiggle 
his eyebrows at her. 

It seemed that Mulder was there even when he wasn't.  He was 
the elephant in the room, the unacknowledged guest.  She wished 
with all her heart that he could be there.

Tara left the room, murmuring something about hot cider on the 
stove, leaving Scully alone with her mother.  In the other room, 
she heard Bill ask Tara a question, and Tara's soft reply.

"Thank you," Scully said.

"For what?"  her mother said.  "For not stating the obvious?  
Do you think Tara hasn't already figured it out?  And if she 
has, you can bet that Bill has, too.  You should just tell 
them."

"Mom --"

"They want to be supportive of you, if you'd just give them a 
chance," Maggie said.  "This is a time when you need your family.  
I wish I could convince you of that."

"I'm not keeping it from them," Scully protested. "I assumed 
you'd already told them."

"It's not my news to tell, Dana," her mother said.  "They know 
about Fox, of course.  Bill was as shocked and saddened as anyone 
could be, Dana.  You need to give him a chance to say so.  Don't 
cut us out of your life.  You're going to need support --"

"I haven't decided what to do yet," Scully interrupted her.

Maggie stared at her in shocked silence.  "You mean, about the 
baby?"

Scully nodded, willing herself not to cry.

Maggie swallowed hard, and Scully could see the flush rising 
in her mother's cheeks and tears in her eyes as she asked, 
"You're having it, though, aren't you?"

"Of course, Mom," Scully said.  "But I don't know if I'll be 
able to keep it."  She couldn't possibly explain more than that.  
The nightmares, the questions, the fears that she harbored went 
so much further than her mother could understand.  She wanted 
to believe so badly that everything about this pregnancy was 
normal, but she couldn't pretend that it was.

Before her mother could say anything more, Scully said, "I'm 
going for a walk," and left the house.

The house was situated on a low bluff with a path down to the 
beach.  Winter here was colder than normal -- there'd even been 
some snow a couple of times.  The grasses along the path were 
gray and brittle.  The wind laid them flat and they dragged at 
her pants legs as she walked the narrow footpath down to the 
shore.

It was three days before Christmas.  She'd told her mother that 
she would have to go back the day after Christmas, rather than 
staying until New Year's with the rest of the family.  With the 
exception of her mother, she thought everyone would be relieved 
to see her go.  She'd go now if she could.  She counted the hours 
until she could go home and--and what?  Sit by herself and weep?

She hadn't requested secrecy when she'd told her mother.  Perhaps 
she'd hoped that Mom would tell them, and that way it would be 
unnecessary for her to say anything at all.  She'd more than 
half-expected Bill to light into her right away, but he'd done 
no more than hug her and say in a somewhat awkward way how sorry 
he was about Mulder.  Then he left the room, presumably so he 
wouldn't start saying things that were unacceptable.  

When they were growing up, Melissa could always predict how Bill 
would behave in a given situation.  "Predict-a-Bill," Missy had 
called it.  It used to piss Bill off, but Missy was right, more 
often than not, which pissed him off even more.  Bill's silence 
was more unnerving to her.  She'd almost wished he had said 
something, so she could fight back.

The sharp wind drew more tears from her eyes.  She turned back 
from the ocean, trudging up the path to the house.  Dusk was 
gathering; the large windows facing the beach showcased the 
inside of the house.  It made a cozy tableau:  in one window, 
she could see Tara at the kitchen counter with Mom, starting to 
fix dinner.  In the other, Bill poked at the fireplace while 
Matthew stood a careful distance away, fingers in his mouth as 
he watched his dad.

She couldn't see a place for herself in that tableau.  She drew 
a deep, shuddering breath, and let herself in the back door.

x-x-x-x

She woke in the morning to see Matthew staring at her.  He was 
still wearing his footie pajamas and held the toy of the moment 
in his hands, a stuffed bear she'd sent last year.  She 
remembered holding it in her hands in the store.  She'd almost 
bought two.

"Aunt Dana, why you here?"  Matthew asked.

It took her aback for a moment, then she realized he meant on 
the sofa instead of in a bed.  "'Cause this is where I fell 
asleep," she said with a smile, tousling his hair.

"Daddy always picks me up when I fall asleep," Matthew said.  
"No Daddy?"  he asked.  "G'ma doesn't have a Daddy, either," 
he explained.

Scully hugged him close.  "No, honey," she said.  "No Daddy."

She'd somehow made it through dinner the night before, then 
excused herself to take a shower.  She'd stayed in the shower 
until the water was barely lukewarm, watching the water cascade 
down her fuller breasts, over her slightly rounded belly.  There 
was so much water already she could pretend her tears weren't a 
part of it, except for the tightness in her throat and the hot 
itchiness in her eyes.  She was usually stronger, seldom even 
allowing herself to break down when alone at home.  Something 
about being around her family however, had lowered her 
resistance. 

She'd fallen asleep on the sofa afterward.  No one disturbed her 
during the evening, though someone had put a blanket over her 
sometime in the night.  Maybe they were relieved, too.  It took 
the burden of making conversation with her off them, and they 
could talk about her to their hearts' content.  She didn't care 
if they did talk about her, as long as she didn't have to hear 
it.

Charlie and Sandie arrived around noon, loaded with gifts and 
good cheer.  Scully found herself pulled into the cheerful 
atmosphere, grateful to have the attention directed at the 
newcomers.  She knew at some point Charlie would seek her out 
for "family gossip" as he always did, but for now all was well.

The clouds lifted and the sun made the living room almost 
uncomfortably warm in the afternoon.  Someone suggested a walk 
down to the beach.  The logistics took a while -- it was amazing 
how long it took to get everyone gathered.  Matthew hopped from 
one foot to the other, wondering loudly why they weren't going 
yet, and how soon would they be going, and why couldn't he take 
Bear, or wear his swimsuit, since they were going to the beach?  
At last everyone was ready to go.

They had to walk single-file down the path, everyone laughing 
and chattering.  Scully brought up the rear, watching Charlie 
and Sandie hold hands and make eyes at each other.  Tara and 
Bill were less demonstrative, having been married much longer, 
and also having the distraction of keeping Matthew in sight.  
Maggie held Matthew's hand, helping on the steeper parts of the 
path, and Scully watched as Bill put his arm around Tara to help 
her, keeping his arm there as they reached the flat of the 
beach.  Unconsciously she rubbed her stomach, feeling the 
fluttering there.

Matthew ran headlong toward the waves, shouting with glee.  
Bill ran after him, keeping one pace behind but ready to scoop 
him up if he got too close to the surf.  There weren't many 
others on the beach.  Scully sat in the shelter of the bluff, 
her arms wrapped around her knees, watching.

It surprised her that Charlie hadn't taken the earliest 
opportunity to talk to her, but she could understand.  The 
last time she'd seen him, he wasn't even engaged.  They still 
exchanged regular emails, but in the last year she hadn't been 
as good at keeping up.  

Charlie had always been the one to take her side in any argument 
when they were kids, and he'd always been the most supportive of 
her even when they'd reached adulthood.  But Sandie, meeting the 
family en mass for the first time since the wedding, appeared to 
be a little overwhelmed.  It was understandable that Charlie's 
first concern would be for her.

At dinner that night, it became even clearer.  Charlie winked at 
Scully across the table, and held Sandie's hand close to his 
heart.  "We, um, we're pregnant," he blurted into a lull in 
the conversation.

It was like the ball dropping at midnight New Year's Eve.  
Everyone started talking at once.  Scully smiled and laughed 
and added her congratulations to the general cacophony.

She volunteered to do the dishes as everyone else carted 
Sandie and Charlie off to the living room to talk more about 
the newest anticipated member of the Scully clan.

She was glad for Charlie, she really was.  Not to mention that 
it took more pressure off her, she mused as she scraped the 
dishes.  She'd hugged him close before the others took him away, 
and he'd whispered in her ear, "We'll talk later, Sissy."

Sissy had been his nickname for her.  Because Melissa was Missy, 
she was Sissy.  Charlie found it easier to say than Dana for 
some reason.

There were those damn tears again.  They dropped into the sink, 
making little holes in the suds.

"Hey Sissy," came a voice from behind her, though not the one 
she expected to hear.

Bill stood diffidently in the doorway.  "You need some help?"

"I'm okay," she said.  "Go on back and join everyone in the 
living room."

"I think Mom and Tara have that covered," he said with a half-
smile.  "I wanted to talk to you."

Oh God here it comes, Scully thought.

"I just wanted to make sure you're okay.  I know you've been 
through a lot lately."

There's an understatement, she thought.  She couldn't look at 
him, worried that he was winding up for the pitch.  Then he 
said something completely unexpected.

"You know," Bill said slowly, "Raleigh's not that far from 
here.  You could go over there if you wanted."

"I know," she said.  "But that's not what I want."

"I know, Sissy," he said gently.  "But you don't want to be 
here, either, do you?"

The repetition of the childish nickname just about undid her.  
"I want to want to be here," she said.  "Can you understand 
that?  But not this way."

"Not without him?"

She nodded, biting her lip and looking away.

"Oh Dana," he said, and held his arms open.  She huddled against 
him, letting him wrap his arms around her and hold her close.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," Bill said.  "You have to believe 
that I never wished him harm."

"I know you didn't," she whispered.  She was so tired.

"I think he was an okay guy.  Maybe it would have been good to 
get to know him better."

She nodded against his shoulder.  "I wish you could have," she 
said.

He just held her for a few minutes.  He wore the same aftershave 
as Ahab, and she found it immensely comforting.

"We know about the baby," he said after a minute.

Scully stiffened and pushed away from him, and he let her, 
keeping his hands loosely on her arms.

"It's okay," Bill said.  "Mom didn't tell me.  Tara figured 
it out.  She knows the signs.  She's been dying to talk to 
you about it."

"I can't."  Scully turned away from him.

"Why, Dana?  What's wrong?"

"I didn't even get to tell Mulder," she said, her voice 
breaking.

"Have you talked to anyone about it?"  Bill asked.  "Even 
Mom?"

She shook her head.  "I can't.  I can't explain it.  I just 
can't."

Bill patted her shoulder awkwardly and she put her arms around 
his waist and closed her eyes.  She was tired of crying, so 
tired of holding her head up and going it alone.

It was so quiet in the kitchen that Scully could hear the suds 
in the sink popping.  She couldn't even hear voices from the 
living room, the only other sound the distant waves breaking 
on the beach.  Or maybe it was roaring in her head.  Everything 
was turned around.

Bill let her go and stood looking at her.  "Look, Dana, I'm not 
here to judge you, believe it or not.  But you need to rely on 
someone, especially now.  I know how stubborn you are.  If I 
knew Mulder's trick for getting you to do something, I'd use it."

"He couldn't make me do anything, either," Scully smiled just 
a little.

"Yeah, right," Bill said with an answering half-smile.  "Won't 
you come be with everyone, just for a while?  I won't let anyone 
ask you anything you don't want to answer."

"That's the protective big brother I know and love," Scully 
said.

"I'm still the same guy," Bill said.  "The one who pisses you 
off regularly.  But maybe I have untapped depths."

Scully snorted.  "Yeah, right."

"One more thing, Sissy," Bill said with a very serious expression.  
"I bet you Mulder knows.  You have to know he knows," his own 
voice broke a little.  "And you know he'd want you to be 
protected, too."

Tough-guy Bill.  Maybe she'd underestimated him a bit.  Or maybe 
it was just the season.  Maybe he was the only one she could hear 
this from right now.  It was something to ponder, when she was 
alone again.

She allowed herself to be led into the living room.  Most of the 
lights were off.  Matthew lay sprawled over Tara's lap, his head 
cradled by Maggie.  Charlie and Sandie were in the biggest chair 
by the fireplace, entwined, half asleep.  Tara and Maggie scooted 
over to make room for Bill and Scully on the couch.  Bill sat next 
to Tara, and Scully fitted in between Maggie and Tara, Matthew now 
lying across everyone's lap.  Someone had tuned the radio to a 
station playing Christmas music.

:::all is calm, all is bright:::

Scully laid her head on her mother's shoulder and felt Maggie's 
hand stroke her hair, softly, tentatively.  She closed her eyes 
and sent a prayer heavenward for her whole family.  Not just for 
those present, but also for those who weren't.

God rest you, she thought.  And God rest me, too.

She slept.

end.

Author's notes:  I actually started writing this during S8, 
before the events of TINH and DeadAlive.  Those eps changed 
everything!  <g> I set the events in this story at Christmas 
of that year, and decided that TINH happened before Christmas, 
and DeadAlive after.  Scully is therefore maybe three to four 
months along when Mulder is found dead, and is about seven months 
along when he is disinterred in DeadAlive.  That's my story, 
and I'm stickin' to it!

Hope you enjoyed the story.  Not the usual Christmas fare, 
I realize.

feedback, yea or nay:  msnsc21@aol.com