"Our Town Revisited" by Marie Endres joemimi@prodigy.net Classification: Scully Angst Rating: G Spoilers: Up to Season 7 Summary: Something is eternal Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, and others are not mine. They belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Broadcasting. Author's notes: In Thorton Wilder's play, "Our Town", the final act takes place in a "graveyard" fashioned of three rows of folding chairs positioned on stage right. A young woman, who recently died in childbirth, finds herself there and the dead speak. "Our Town Revisited" "Blood pressure is 70/40. That's down again, Doctor. Down from 90/50. She seems to be losing consciousness." "Come on, Dana! Come on back. You're almost there. You're just a couple of pushes away from seeing your baby!" "Dana, this is Dr. Gibbs. I want you to focus. C'mon Dana." Why do I know that name? He's not the doctor I normally see. Why isn't Dr. Pace here? Why am I thinking of candy canes, peppermint sweet? Daddy and I, going to the bank. They're giving away the little, tiny ones, individually wrapped. Cold, so cold. My breath. It's Christmas Eve. That's why my usual doctor isn't here. Who is Gibbs? How do I know that name? Why is everyone shouting at me? Oh, I know. Gibbs, like the Brothers Gibb or maybe Andy. "I just want to be your everything." My everything, every little thing. Every touch. Every kiss. Him. Mulder. Oh…God, this hurts. Why can't I seem to think straight? Labor, so long. Why am I bleeding so much? That's why I keep hearing them talk about my blood pressure. So weak. I can hear the nurses scrambling. They're nervous. Should I be? It takes so much effort just to be here. Now. Easier to float along and try to figure out… "Doctor, why is this happening?" It is my mother. I can hear the fear in her voice. Momentarily, I am smack, back there in the midst of them all. Dr. Gibbs. Dr. Gibbs. Why am I thinking of Missy and Bill? High school, homework, waiting. That's it. "Our Town." Missy and Bill were in a production of it in high school. Oh no! That searing pain again, down my torso, back down my legs, and back again. I'm there, though, back in a darkened auditorium, not here in the midst of pain and blood. I'm waiting for a ride home. I have to wait for them to finish. I've memorized all the lines because I've watched every rehearsal. I cannot help but say the play's words out loud. "I'm the brightest girl in school for my age. I have a wonderful memory." "Mrs. Scully, what is she saying?" the nurse implores. "I have no idea," I can vaguely hear my mother reply. "Aw, ma! Bu ten o'clock, I got to know all about Canada," I say with a chuckle, trying to jog my mother's memory. This was Bill's only line in the play. C'mon, Mom. Don't you remember? "Just somebody help her. She's delirious!" My mother is truly in a panic. It's easier to slip back. So hard to try and convince her that I am fine. It's simpler over there, over there in Grover's Corners. The stage is half-lit. There are three rows of chairs a little over to the right. I walk slowly to the center. There is no one here, on the stage or in the audience. I look around, wondering where everyone has gone. I sense, rather than see, a figure in the third row of chairs on the stage. She sits in the second chair in from the left. "Dana." The voice is that of a woman, a practical woman. It is not a gentle voice or a nurturing tone. I know the woman. "Mrs. Mulder?" I ask, testing to see if she will respond. I walk closer to where she sits. She begins: "Yes. I need to tell you something. You know, you can't go back. You can't re-live or change a moment. You can only hope for appreciation, for comfort. I want you do that for me. Can you?" "I don't know. Can I?" I ask a woman I know to be dead. "Yes. You must give to him what I never could- a shelter, a healing. You were right when you said that I just wanted him to stop. I just wanted to ease his pain. I only caused more. Dana, comfort him." "But I can't. He's not…" my response is halted by another wash of hurt. I slip closer, back to the scene set before me. There is one stirring, two rows up and to the right. She is restless. "Dana," she says in a plaintive whisper without turning around to see me. I move to stand in front of her. "Melissa," I say with relief, excitement. "You know, you can't go back," she says with a tinge of sadness and regret. "I think I'm beginning to understand that," I reply simply. "If I could, though, I would savor more. I would taste every flavor, enjoy every scent. I want you to do that for me. Can you?" She raises her head so that her gaze once directed outwards, falls upon me. "I can try." "You must. Live every moment. Always remember his touch, let it bring you to life again and again. Cry out with joy, in celebration. Never hold back from him. Enjoy him, Dana." "But Missy,he's gone, go-" Before I can finish, I see one more figure sitting in the chairs before me. His shoulders are stooped, his chin rests on his chest. He is a man severed, broken. My hand, by it's own volition, reaches toward him. Before I touch him, I speak: "Mr. Mulder?" He nods only, words are difficult for him. "You know, you can't go back, you can't change one thing," he says with resignation. "I know that." "You can only hope that the future is kind. Our only means of righting the past is a dream that hinges on our children. If I could return, I would be a father, a good father. I would choose to love my children in the face of evil rather than fighting another war against it. Let him be a father, Dana. Keep him from making the same mistakes. Let him love his child and that love will conquer the world." My tears begin to fall out of frustration. I plead with him, with all of them," Don't you understand? He's not here. I can't do any of…" I am jolted by the sound of a familiar voice, calling to me from far away. "Scully-" No, not here. Please don't let me be hearing him here. "Scully-" more demanding now, he speaks. No! Only the dead are here. Please God, no. "Dammit, Scully! Come back to me. *I* came back to you!" He's choking out the words in a tone somewhere between a scream and a request. I open my eyes, only to meet his. Mulder. Here. Alive, with his arms around me, propping me up in a bed, in a labor and delivery room, ready to watch his child being born. "That's it. Welcome back, Scully. We have a baby to meet," he coos into my ear. "How? What?…" The questions tumble forth from me. "Not now. We only get one chance to meet our first born. You can't go back and try this again, you know," he replies good naturedly. "Yes, I know." For I truly do. ~~~**~~~ It is dark now. All the busyness of nurses, doctors, and family has dissipated. It is simply, quiet. My partner, in every sense of the word, sleeps safely in a chair next to my bed. Our daughter is a warm, tightly- swaddled bundle in my arms. And as I look down into her perfect countenance, I remember the past and know without a doubt that a new day is near. I cannot turn back, but I know the future is as near as her tiny hands. Life, through nurturing, savoring, loving, is our connection from "here" to "there". And as the Stage Manager in a brilliant play once said, "We all know that something is eternal." END Feedback: Eternally appreciated and cherished! To joemimi@prodigy.net Thank you's as always to Georgia- Somethings like friendship and good beta help are truly eternal! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ BTW: Did you buy that new car yet? If not, check this site out. They're called CarsDirect.com and it's a pretty sweet way to buy a car. http://click.egroups.com/1/6847/4/_/599222/_/963933700/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ---------------------------------------- The X-Files Creative Mailing List Archived at http://www.xemplary.com To subscribe, go to http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/xfc-atxc To unsubscribe, write xfc-atxc-unsubscribe@onelist.com Check out the XFC Feedback list http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/xfc-fdbk ---------------------------------- Imported to ATXC courtesy of NewsGuy news service http://newsguy.com