Title: Forgive Me

Author:  Trinity

E-mail: Trinity_1013@xfilesfan.com

Rating: PG-13

Category: SA (with a smattering of R)

Keywords: Post-Episode, Pre-XF, Mulder/Scully Romance

Spoilers: Post-ep for "Closure" - refs to anything 
through Season Seven.

Distribution: Gossamer, Ephemeral, 2001 Spooky's - NO
I'll submit directly to all three myself. Xemplary, YES.
Previous eXcursions, YES. Anyone else, please drop me
a quick line first. I won't say no, I just wanna know
where my babies are going. :)

Summary: After finding Samantha, Mulder looks back
on twenty-seven wasted years and the one thing he
has left undone.

Dedications: To my husband for encouraging me to "make
it good." To my beta reader, Char Chaffin for her kind
words and support. And, to my best friend, Shanda, who
knows why.


~~~~~
~~~~~

"FORGIVE ME"

~~~~~
~~~~~

"When all is said and done
I'll always be your son
but all is not forgiven.

Well, I'm down on my knees pleading
just 'cause I'm grown you think I don't need
much more than what you've ever given me.

So when we gonna get together?
Seems there's no time for me
You act like you've got forever
you've got time, but you ain't got time for me.

You said you've got time, 
but you ain't got time for me.

Now that you've gone and tossed 
the bottle away now will ya
start a new life with the new wife?
Well, she'll never be my mother
I suppose that you know you oughta
remember the son you left behind.

You're just letting it slip away now
you act like things are fine
I know you think you've been born again
but this time

You're leaving your son behind."

"This Time" - Life of Agony

~~
~~


"Mulder, what happened? Are you sure you're all
right?"

I pause for merely a second and consider. "I'm fine."
I answer truthfully. I look up into the stars and I see
my sister's smiling face. I feel her arms wrapped tightly
around my waist, the softness of her hair under my fingers.

"I'm free."

Turning so she can see my happiness I quietly repeat, "I'm
free." The concern on her face is gradually replaced by
a tentative smile. She steps forward and I envelop her, 
lifting her up and holding her tightly. Her arms go around
my neck and her lips grace my stubbled cheek, but she says
nothing. She doesn't need to. I know she doesn't believe,
but she believes that *I* believe and that is enough for
both of us.

The trip home is a long one, but neither of us is up to
another cross-country flight. So, we take turns driving.
Throughout her first shift at the wheel, Scully glances at
me every few moments, expecting me to break down; perhaps
a repeat performance of the other night, when I cried myself
to sleep in her arms.

But, I'm not going to break down. Not this time.

I spent twenty-seven years of my life searching for my sister.
At times, I even found her. A little girl standing outside
a revival tent... A grown woman exchanging herself for my 
partner... a drone working in a field, surrounded by a dozen
replicas of herself... the child - waving and telling me 
'goodbye' while a serial killer taunted me with memories
that were not my own... The woman who rejected me while Scully
lay dying, and the one I saw in my mind. Happy; open...
alive.

None of that - *none* of it could have prepared me for what I
saw tonight. For what I know, for what I *finally* know. I've
had my closure, and yet - in the very back of my mind there 
exists a small grain of doubt. Not about Samantha, but of 
something still left undone.

I have grieved for Samantha. I have grieved for my mother.

But it occurs to me that I have never properly done so for
the man I believe was my father. I have never reconciled
myself with the man I came to know he was.

And so, I close my eyes, and I remember.

I remember...

~~
~~

November 27, 1973
2792 Vine St., Chilmark, MA
Galbrand Residence


"Fox? What's wrong?"

Twelve-year-old Fox Mulder pushed past Elaine Galbrand and
into the house. "Where's my father?" He asked frantically.

"Son?"

"Mulder turned and found himself facing his father, suddenly
tongue-tied. "She's gone - I... there was a light - and I
can't-" He broke off and into frustrated sobs.

"Fox, honey - what are you trying to say?" Teena Mulder asked
quietly, placing two steadying hands on her son's shoulders.

Mulder took a deep breath and continued. "Samantha's gone."
He managed. Looking back, years later, he would remember his
father closing his eyes and letting out a resigned sigh. Not
even a hint of surprise.

Teena blinked at her son and gripped his shoulders tightly. 
"Gone? Where? You let her out of the house alone at this time
of night? What were you thinking?" She snapped.

Before Mulder could respond to the accusations, his father was
pulling them both out of the house and down the front steps.
Mulder's shorter legs could not keep up and he stumbled. His
parents left him behind.

~~

Next Morning...



The house was crawling with people. Investigators, family friends.
In the far corner of the dining room, a man roughly his father's
age flicked ash from his cigarette out the open window. Mulder 
had seen this man before. Talking in hushed tones with his father,
comforting his mother and Samantha after one of their family's 
horrific fights.

Over and over again he was asked the same questions:

'Did you see anyone?'

"No."

'Did you see anything?'

"Lights."

'Did you hear anything?'

"My sister screaming for help."

'Why didn't you help her?'

"I couldn't move."

'Why is your father's gun on the floor over there?'

"I grabbed it to try and protect Samantha."

'I thought you said you couldn't move?'

"I couldn't."


He tried to approach his mother. "Not now, Fox."

He tried to approach his father. "Go away, son."

Finally, alone and rejected, he went to his room and closed
the door. After turning off the light, he curled up on
his bed, knees tucked under his chin, and wept.

Hours later, the door to his room whispered open. His nose 
wrinkled at the acrid smell of smoke and he turned, expecting 
to see his father.

"Hello, Fox."

Mulder rubbed his eyes and regarded the man in his doorway.
"I've seen you here before. What's your name?"

The man paused for a moment, taking a long drag on his 
cigarette and seeming to ponder the question. "Christopher."
He finally replied.

"You're my dad's friend?" Mulder asked.

"More like colleagues. I've known your parents since before
you were born."

"Where's my sister?" Mulder asked in a tiny, lost voice.

"Your sister's gone, Fox. Don't you remember?" Christopher
asked, his voice laced with mock concern. Slowly, Mulder
nodded, but the confusion did not leave his face. "She was
taken last night. Are you beginning to forget already?"
His tone was almost hopeful.

"No..." Mulder whispered. "I'm just... last night is
starting to get... fuzzy."

Christopher nodded and sat next to him. "That will happen
after a traumatic event." He said quietly. "One day you'll
look back on this and it'll be nothing more than a series
of broken images and blurring visions. I doubt you'll even
remember this conversation."

That turned out to be the truth. The years passed and 
Mulder's memories of that fateful night became patchy at
best. In the meantime, his father continued to push him
away. His mother continued to withhold her love.

William and Teena divorced and forgot their son.

~

Samantha came home.

Or so he thought.

The woman who claimed to be Samantha hugged him, joked
with him. She smiled at his father, sat with his mother
while she cried. But, she was another lie and once again
Mulder was faced with telling his father that Samantha
was gone.

"I'm sorry, Dad." He whispered. William walked away.


Not long after that, Mulder recieved a phone call.

"Mulder." He answered breathlessly.

"Fox, this is your father." Mulder blinked, slightly
taken aback. "I need to see you right away." William
continued.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at home. How soon can you be here?" William asked,
his voice taking on a desperate edge. "Fox, it's very
important."

Mulder looked at the "X" taped on his window one last time
and left. The drive to the Vineyard was a haze. The aspirin
he'd taken before leaving was doing little to assuage the
dull throb behind his eyes.

He arrived well past nightfall and knocked on the door. His
father answered with a shadow of a smile on his face. They
greeted each other formally before William stepped forward 
and pulled his son into an almost frantic embrace; an
uncharacteristic show of affection.

"What is it, Dad?"

"Come in." William said, closing the door and carefully
locking it. He led Mulder into the living room and motioned
for him to sit down. Taking a deep breath, he began to speak.

"It's... so clear now. Simple. It was so complicated then.
The choices that needed to be made. What choices... You're
a smart boy, Fox. Smarter than I ever was," he said, standing
impatiently.

"About what?" Mulder asked, confused and tired.

"Your politics are yours. You've never... thrown in." Disgust
began to creep into his tone. "The minute you do that, their
doctrines become yours. And you can be held responsible."
William said angrily.

"You're talking about your work at the State Department."

"You're going to learn of things, Fox. You're going to
hear the words. And they'll come to make sense to you."
William whispered ominously.

"What words?" asked his son, more confused than ever.

There was a short, pregnant pause, noticeable only to
those looking for it, before William murmured, "The
Merchandise." He sighed deeply and Mulder rose, concerned,
and placed a warm hand on his father's shoulder.

"Look, I, uh... I've been taking some medication." William
chuckled dryly. "You'll have to excuse me." He fled the room
and Mulder sank back onto the couch.

Seconds later the sound of a gunshot ripped through the 
house.

"Dad?!" Mulder called, leaping off the couch and racing
into the bathroom. "Dad!" William lay on the bathroom
floor, dying. "Oh, Dad..."

William looked up at his son and concentrated his entire
being on his final plea. "F- forgive me."

~~
~~

2000


My eyes snap open and I blink at the late afternoon sun, 
simultaneously blinking away the painful memory. I glance
over at Scully. We've been on the road for two days and she's
driving again. "Where are we?" I ask softly.

"Williamsburg." She answers, pointing as we pass a brown 
interstate sign for Busch Gardens. "We'll be home in about
three hours, give or take."

"Scully, what do you think about forgiveness?"

"Well, I think it's the cornerstone of any relationship. If
you can't forgive, then you can have no expectation of being
forgiven." She glances at me out of the corner of her eye.
"Why do you ask?"

I open my mouth to explain, but find myself inexplicably
speechless. This never happens. I close my eyes to
compose myself and by the time I open them again, she has
conveniently pulled the car into a rest-stop parking lot.

"Who?" She asks knowingly.

I chuckle for a moment at the laundry list of names that 
floods my mind. A never-ending tirade of lies and betrayal
flashes through my photographic memory. "Only one person
that really matters, and he died before I had the chance."

I can tell she knows whom I mean by the way her brow furrows
and her eyes soften. She whispers my name and takes my hands
in hers. "Why?"

"I feel... that he arranged Samantha's abduction. To protect
her, or me - I don't know anymore. The truths and the lies 
have become so polluted over the years that I don't know what
to believe. I can't even be sure if what I remember is
really what I remember... For years those doubts preyed on
me, but now... it doesn't really seem to matter anymore. I
found her. She's in the proverbial 'better place'." Looking
up I see that her eyes are sparkling with unshed tears.

"Help me forgive him, Scully..."

The tears overflow and she pulls me to her, cradling my head
against her breast. "You said it yourself, Mulder. It 
doesn't matter now." She whispers. "It's over and you're
free. Just... let it go."

I lean up and rest my forehead against hers. "Forgive and
forget." I murmur.

"No. Forgive, but *never* forget." She says quietly.

My eyes, which I don't remember closing, flutter open and I
find myself staring at her lips. I keep my gaze focused there
and open my suddenly dry mouth. Considering the lack of 
morphine in my system I decide to throw caution to the wind
and try this again.

"I love you," I say simply and softly.

"I know," She responds, just as softly. She pulls me closer
and I can feel her warm breath against my ear. "I love you,
too."

My sigh of relief is embarrassingly audible, but she is
tactful enough not to comment on it. Instead she holds
me tighter as I press soft kisses into her hair. "Let's go
home," I whisper.

~~
~~

Epilogue:


Arlington National Cemetery is an eerily beautiful place
in the light of dusk.

Scully is standing next to me, waiting expectantly. I look
at her, stricken, and it dawns on her that I have never been
to my father's grave - but she has. Wordlessly, she holds 
out her hand and I follow her through the labyrinth of trees
and headstones. After a while she stops and points.

I start toward my father's grave and then turn back to her.
She sees the question in my eyes and answers with a small shake
of her head. She's right - I need to do this alone.

I reach the headstone and drop to my knees. Reaching out, I
tentatively trace the 'W' of his name as I ponder his last
words to me.

"Forgive me..."

A question?
A demand?
A last-ditch attempt to regain a son's love?

It no longer matters. The answer is still the same. I take
a deep breath and say aloud:

"Yes."

~~~~~~~~~~
THE END...
~~~~~~~~~~