Corrigenda (5/15)
by charvill

Email: charityharvill@yahoo.com 
Category: MSR, A, Post-IWTB

Summary:  Dana Scully was treating more patients than just
Christian during the winter of 2008.  This is the story about the
father of one of those patients who is awed by the miracles our
favorite former-forensics-dabbling-FBI-agent-turned-pediatric-
surgeon performs.  Drama ensues, of course :-)

Author's Note: Corrigenda is a Latin phrase meaning
"things to be corrected"
Archiving: Please ask permission. 


1:34pm 

"It was the morning after the accident. Jeffrey had just gotten
out of surgery and he well, it was hard to look at him. His
head was so heavily bandaged and swollen that I could barely
see his little face. And he had lost so much blood Two inches
more in either direction and... ". Tony left the sentence
unfinished, the death sentence his son had nearly been given
hanging in the air between them. "But then you came into his
room. You you look just like her, you know." 

Scully smiled sadly, having already assumed as much; it fell
perfectly in line with the typical kidnapper profile.   

"Physically, the attraction for me was immediate. But, then I
saw the way you were with Jeffrey. He adores you. And, he's
a great kid. Didn't deserve to have his mother stripped from
him so young." Tony sat forward, his expression dark. "But that
can be corrected. That's why I had to do it, Dana." 

"You think that by kidnapping and locking me up, I might be
able to be a mother to your son?" she questioned, her voice
sharper than she intended. Take it easy, Dana. Don't push him
too far.  

Nostrils flared, he spat, "I wouldn't have needed to take you if
it wasn't for *him.*"  

"But, you haven't even let me see Jeffrey!" 

"No. That's not who I meant." Tony got to his feet, resting his
hands on his hips as he tried to regain his composure.
Refocused, his eyes bore down on her. "Fox. Mulder." He
didn't miss her wince. "He's the reason I have to keep you
here." 

Tony crossed the room to sit directly beside her on the edge of
the bed; she scooted six inches the opposite way. "I wanted to
court you, Dana." Her head jerked from where she stared at
her hands, eyes wide with what could only be shock, and he
couldn't help but laugh. "It was really hard to work up the
courage, to figure out the right time so " He bit his lip and
groaned. "This is going to sound terrible." 

She motioned around herself with her hand as if to say, "How
could it be worse?" 

"I started following you. But only when I knew Jeffrey was
sleeping or bored of me," he quickly amended. "It took weeks
before I finally had everything planned out in my head. I just
needed you to say, 'yes'. But then, you discharged Jeffrey." 

A light bulb went off in her head as she remembered his strange
reaction to what should have been fantastic news. *Oh my
God* 

"It was harder to watch over you after that " 

"Watch over me?" Her voice sounded weak even to her own
ears. 

Tony pointed at himself and in his deep bass said, "Psychotic
stalker, remember?" She didn't seem to see the humor. He
sighed. "Anyway, my job allows me lots of freedom   as you
can probably tell from all the time I spend around here. So, I
was able to come visit you at work from time to time. And if I
was really lucky I got to make sure you arrived back home
safely." 

Scully could feel the red and white walls closing in on her. This
was too much. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. She and
Mulder had successfully evaded the FBI for all those years only
to be preyed upon by a random, demented widow?  

"But I never saw him until we ran into you at the store. I
didn't I don't understand how I could have missed it. I never
saw the two of you out together." 

She choked back a laugh and Tony wondered at her. *Of
course, he didn't. Mulder has only been a free man for a couple
of weeks. I wanted to give him the trip to Seattle as my gift...let
him spread his wings a little.* Her lower lip quivered and a tear
rolled down her cheek. *Told him he wasn't even allowed to
call more than once a day * 

"Dana?" Tony covered her hand warily with his own, letting out
a breath when she didn't pull away. He couldn't see the tear
that had fallen, but Tony could tell she was visibly shaken  
from the idea of having been followed without her knowledge
or possibly something else he didn't know. "How long had you
been with him?" 

She knew he didn't mean professionally. "Almost nine years."  

His gasp was loud in the quiet room and she turned her eyes to
him wanting to relish his surprise. "B-but I looked. There was
no ring. What nine years?" 

"We never married," she admitted, unable to hide her remorse. 

He felt the fire of anger towards this man burn from his heart to
the tips of his fingers and toes. All the derogatory terms Tony
knew couldn't combine into one that was adequate enough to
describe Fox Mulder. *What the hell was wrong with that guy? 
And what the hell was she doing putting up with such an
asshole! Devoting yourself for so long and getting nothing oh,
shit. "What about kids?"* 

For a millisecond she thought about being honest. *Maybe,*
she thought, *he would let me go if he knew I had a child
waiting for me.* And, in the next millisecond, she realized what
would happen if he demanded to meet him   William. "No. No
kids." 

There was no denying that   the drop of her shoulders, the way
her teeth sank into her lower lip, the hitch in her breathing, the
crease between her eyebrows   Tony had hit her deep. He
immediately regretted even bringing it up: the idea that Dana
might not even be able to have kids, that it might be a painful
subject, never occurred to him before now.  

But Tony was also immensely relieved, feeling reinvigorated in
his attempt to make her understand why he couldn't let her go.
"If you hadn't been involved with him, I wouldn't have brought
you here. I needed to make you see how I feel about you that
you have choices. And I don't care how long you've been with
him, that guy can't possibly love you as much as I do." 

"There's a difference between infatuation and love." 

"You sure about that?" 

Her eyes were blue steel; her gaze so cold it sent a shiver down
his spine. The words dripped like acid from her tongue.
"*Love* is a two-way street." 

Scully meant the words to wound, but it merely made Tony
more hopeful.  

"Let's say  hypothetically, of course," he laughed, "that you
were the subject of one's 'infatuation'. And day after day after
day you were shown how much this person cared for you,
wanted you, needed you. And let's say you were treated like a
queen, never expected to do anything but let yourself be loved.
Don't you think that eventually it would become impossible for"
--he glance carefully at her-- "the subject to keep from
reciprocating that love?" 
"Not if the subject was being held prisoner by that person."

 He nodded, having had this same debate with himself before
deciding to take action. "But the subject would only be held
prisoner until," Tony paused to beam at her, "she proved that it
was no longer necessary." 

She was apprehensive of his implications, but pressed on.
"How?" 

Tony remained silent, choosing instead to stare at her. The
intimate gesture was unnerving. When he finally looked away, it
was to check his watch.  

"I gotta get back to work before I head to the school." He
gathered the tray   bits of crust and crumbs from the club
sandwiches they had eaten, two empty soda bottles, and a
half-eaten bag of potato chips   and stood, looking down at
her as he did. "I'll see you tonight, okay?" 

"I'll be here," she muttered. 

Standing in the opened doorway, he looked back wistfully. "If I
had any doubts about that, I'd never be able to walk away." 

**** 

12:06am 

Mulder watched his former boss walk out the front door and
into the darkness. He inhaled through his nose and waited until
he could no longer hear the gravel of the unpaved drive being
crunched beneath the weight of Skinner's SUV.  

"I'm sorry, Mulder," Skinner had almost whispered, unsure if
the man in front of him could hold it together. "I know it can't
be easy, but I think you need to accept that what happened
here was voluntary." 

Voluntary. *Voluntary?* "FUCK!" He reached for the nearest
object, a three-tiered candlestick and chunked it at the door.  

*This can't be happening,* he told himself. *Scully wouldn't do
this.*   

*I won't be coming home * Her words uttered little over a
week before -- though it felt like a different lifetime -- mocked
him. Mulder had wanted to die when she said that. Literally,
cease to be. The only thing he knew to do was solve the
mystery. If he did that, then it would be over: Scully could
come home. Until tonight, he couldn't imagine her not coming
home. 
 
*But I didn't do anything this time!* he wanted to shout to
anyone who would listen. *Hell, she was the one who
sent me away. Oh no oh fuck, fuck FUCK!* 

"NO!" he yelled, bringing his fist crashing down on the coffee
table. His chest burned, every breath requiring more effort.
Pain. His face burning. Mulder knowing he was about to die,
but unable to do anything to stop it. Scully surprising the
Russian whose axe was raised to decapitate him. Heaven.
Scully tenderly inspecting the cuts on his face. The look in her
eyes telling Mulder just how close he'd come to dying -- and
just how happy she was that she'd made it in time.  

Her beautiful, slanted script: "I've met someone." 

"That just doesn't make any sense!" *Not after all this time,* he
thought. *And not now that I'm free...* He rose from the couch
with a new determination. He was a detective and he couldn't
give up on her. *What if she's in danger? Skinner doesn't buy it,
but even if -- he shuddered at the idea -- even if it what he
believes is true, Scully would tell me in person. Not in some
note while I was on the other side of the country.* 

Mulder decided he would start with the bedroom, look for
signs of struggle,  and move on to the rest of the house. *There
has to be something here.*


*************
END Part 5