Corrigenda (14/15)
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. 


Thursday, April 17, 2008 

7:45am 

"Dana, what's happened? What's going on, Fox?" Maggie
Scully's frantic questions fell upon deaf ears as her daughter
embraced her in a hug so strong, that the first thing it reminded
her mother of was an oncology ward hospital bed over a
decade before. She said a quick prayer for her daughter and
whatever her troubles were at that moment.  

The sun was peeking out over the eastern horizon, white
wooden porch around them now a haze of pink and orange.
Mulder stood on the bottom step as Scully continued to hold on
to her mother. And then, hesitantly, she pulled away. 

Scully could see that her mother was still expecting an
explanation that would hopefully erase the horrible visions she
was creating in her mind. But Scully knew that truths were
usually worse than what one's imagination provided; because
the truth stripped away hope. So, it would be a half-truth then. 

"Can we talk inside?" 

Scully waited for her mother to sit before choosing the easy
chair. She expected Mulder to take the spot next to Maggie on
the couch or maybe by the fireplace; but, instead, he stood
directly behind Scully's seat, placing his hands on its back. 

"Mom," she began with her best attempt at a calming grin, "I,
uh...what I have to tell you is not easy. And, I know that you
and I have not always seen eye-to-eye since..." 

"Dana, you're my daughter." Her pale blue eyes seemed to get
darker as she spoke, and Mulder felt the goosebumps rise on
his forearms. "The past is done. Something has obviously
happened that affected you in such a way that you need your
mother. I'm here, Dana." 

Scully felt, instead of a metaphorical weight being lifted from
her shoulders, like the past week -- the past eight years for that
matter -- had suddenly crashed down on the crown of her
head. The crushing blow ripped down her neck to her
shoulders, her torso, her arms, her legs, her fingers, and her
toes. 

And she cried. God help her, she was sobbing harder than she
had since the morning Skinner and the social services' worker
drove away with William. 

Maggie reached across the short distance and tugged her
daughter over onto the sofa, rocking and whispering sweet
words of reassurance into her ear. Mulder watched the display
half in horror and half in utter astonishment. He took Scully's
former spot in the chair so that he could be closer to them
without interrupting the therapy that was going on right before
his eyes. 

Minutes passed, and then Scully suddenly sat up. Maggie
yanked two tissues from the antique box on the coffee table at
their knees and handed them to her. 

"Thank you," she sniffled and dabbed at her eyes like it would
do any good. "I'm sorry about that. I know it must seem...you
don't know--" 

"Shhh. It's alright baby." Maggie turned and looked briefly to
Mulder as if to ask, "What in God's name is going on?" 

"I was kidnapped." 

Mulder's eyes squeezed shut at that moment, preventing him
from having to see Mrs. Scully's jaw dropping or her eyes
bugging out in horror and rage. 

"What?" 

Scully simply nodded, affirming her previous declaration. 

"Who...How--" 

Staring through leftover tears, she said, "Mulder found me.
Tonight." 

Maggie immediately shifted in her seat to face him, but before
she could speak, he did. 

"The kidnapper led us to believe that Scully had" -- his eyes
narrowed and his Adam's apple bobbed, fighting the words that
were attempting to form -- "left me. For someone else." 

Mrs. Scully covered her eyes with both hands. "Oh my God..." 

Scully gripped her mother's knee and looked at Mulder for the
first time since they had entered the house. "But he didn't
believe it." 

"Of course not, Dana! Why would--" 

"Not everyone held the same opinion as me, though, Mrs.
Scully. It took me several days to track her down." *Too many
days,* he thought to himself. 

She turned back to her daughter. "Honey...are...are you hurt?
Did they catch him?" 

"Yes. He's being held in Richmond." 

Maggie stared into her daughter's blotchy and tear-stained face
sensing that there was something deeper, something terrifying
that she wasn't being let in on. *Would God ever leave these
two in peace?*  

"And *you* are here," she stated. 

Again, her daughter chose not to answer aloud and nodded. 

"And you haven't slept." 

"No. I, uh, I had to give a statement and," Scully paused briefly,
wondering if she would ever be able to confess the horror of
what had happened to her, before continuing, "and then I called
you and asked Mulder to bring me here." 

"Well, you know you two are welcome to stay as long as you
like." Though it's never as long as I'd like it to be. "Why don't I
go make up your room for you." 

"Mom, you don't need--" 

"I know what I do and don't need to do, Dana," she said
sternly and pushed herself up to stand. "It will just take a couple
of minutes. There's a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen. You two
help yourself to whatever you want." 

When Mrs. Scully vanished halfway up the staircase, Mulder
took her former spot beside Scully. She fiddled with the wad of
tissue in her hand, looking everywhere it seemed but him and
finally said, "Thank you for bringing me here, Mulder. I'm glad
we came." 

"So am I."  

A long, awkward silence fell between them. 

"Mulder," she sighed and then let her wandering eyes fall upon
his face. The natural light that streamed in through her mother's
front window curtains highlighted every tired line on his face.
The dark stubble on his chin, his cheeks, his upper lip, his
throat. The dark circles beneath his chameleon eyes that were,
for now, a light greenish-grey.  

She shook her head, adding, "I don't know what to say." 

He took a leap of faith and placed his hand atop the two of
hers, still clutching the tissues. Despite the sheer exhaustion he
felt, at that moment he knew he could run a mile just from the
high he experienced when she didn't flinch or pull away.
Continuing the eye contact he had longed for, he whispered,
"You don't have to say anything." 

Her face crumpled and she broke their gaze. "Thank you." 

"Can I...can I ask you something?" 

She glanced up, a question apparent in the crinkle of her brow.  

"Would it be alright...if I held you?" 

*Oh, God, Mulder...I thought you'd never ask...* She
immediately scooted forward and wrapped her arms around his
back, cocooning herself in Mulder.  

"I'm so sorry, Scully...so sorry..." He positioned himself back
against the cushions so that he might hold her at an angle that
was more comfortable for her. She was shaking her head
furiously and he released her enough so that he could read her
face. 

"Don't...there's nothing to...you *believed* me...I couldn't...I
*don't* know why you even came back--" 

"Shhhh, shhh," he said softly, when she didn't fight him. "I'm
here. You're here. That's what matters. *That* is why I came
back." 

Scully looked as if she had something to say but. just then,
Maggie emerged from the staircase. "Okay, Dana," she said
and smiled warmly at the scene before her. "It's ready,
whenever you wanna go up." 

"Thank you, Mom." 

"Thanks, Mrs. Scully." 

She waved off their unnecessary gratitude and stopped in front
of the kitchen entrance. "I was just going to make myself some
toast and eggs. Would you two like something?" 

Scully was opening her mouth to decline but Mulder spoke too
quickly. "That would be great. Would you like some help?" 

"You are a guest in my house, Fox," she answered, shaking her
head. "Just make yourself at home. I'll let you know when it's
ready." 

He smiled and nodded in response. Mrs. Scully's small form
disappeared behind the narrow double doors and he felt Scully
moving to stand.  

"I'm going to take a shower."  

"Okay." His heart began to race as he equated this to having to
be further away from her than he wanted to permit.  

Scully didn't miss his "panic face", but when she opened her
mouth to tell him she would be fine the words locked up on her
tongue. She chewed on her lower lip and headed towards the
stairs; the heat of Mulder's stare seemed to burn the skin of her
back as she ascended. 

**** 

Mulder sat in the easy chair, catching up on current events
courtesy of the *Baltimore Sun,* while Scully slept on the
queen-size bed.  

Earlier, when he insisted that he wasn't sleepy, she had all but
demanded that he go downstairs and relax, watch television, do
something besides baby-sit her. So he had gone out in the
hallway and sat on the floor -- as close to the door as he could
get without casting a shadow for her to see in the inch-wide
crack below it. 

Maggie Scully had come up the stairs an hour after cleaning up
their breakfast dishes to find him sitting there with a worried
expression. It quickly became one of embarrassment when he
realized he'd been caught, but she didn't admonish him, instead
continuing on her path to her own bedroom. She came out less
than ten seconds later, that morning's edition of the paper in her
hand. 

Mulder wanted to hug her. But he simply accepted the token
with a boyish grin.  

Another thirty minutes passed before his tailbone started
screaming at him. He heard a slight movement from the room
behind him and decided it would be okay if he checked on her.  

She was fine. And he ended up in the much more agreeable --
to his ass anyway -- padded chair. 

He scanned the sports page and slowly, carefully turned the
usually-noisy-but-now-silent page. A flash of movement caught
his eye and he saw that Scully was twisting the comforter in her
hands while her legs twitched beneath it. Mulder held his
breath. And then she moved again. Only now the twisting and
twitching became flailing and kicking. His jaw dropped in
horror as she cried out "Please!" 

The comforter had, in her nightmare, become an attacker and it
was currently covering only the top portion of her tiny body and
her head. Mulder acted quickly, shoving the covers from atop
her, freeing her arms. As he did, one of her hands made sharp
contact with the back of his head and he, instinctively, gripped
her wrist to protect himself. 

"NO! PLEASE, NO!" 

"Scully, it's me," he said in a voice he hoped was loud enough
to rouse her quickly. Every movement, every utterance was
ripping him apart. "You're okay. No one's going to hurt you.
You're okay, Scully." 

Her eyes popped open and she gasped for air. Mulder
immediately stepped away.  

"Oh, God..." she moaned, pushing herself up to a sitting
position and burying her face in her hands.  

Mulder sat on the edge of the chair and alternated between
looking at the floor and at the place in the mattress cushion that
curved beneath Scully's weight. He concentrated on the gradual
slowing of her breaths, debating about whether he should or
shouldn't say something. It was completely unnecessary,
however, because even as he decided he would let her break
the silence, she did. 

"Mulder?" she said, her voice muffled by her own hands.  

"Yeah?" 

Her next words flipped his world upside down.  

"I'm scared." 


*************
END Part 14