Oubliette: The Apology
by
Sydnie MacElroy
Scully reached for the phone more out of instinct than awareness. She was sleeping, she wanted to continue sleeping, and the damn phone was trying to prevent her from doing so. Or, more to the point, the person at the other end of the line was trying to prevent it. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt who it was and she didn't want to talk to him just now. He had acted like a jerk and treated her like the enemy. And for what? Because he was hurting. Because he couldn't deal with the traumas of his past, and he was taking it out on her. She wanted to feel sorry for him, but the more she thought about it, the angrier she got.
"What," she growled into the phone.
"You were right, Scully." Mulder's voice quivered slightly as he spoke.
"It's about time you admitted that. Just to be clear, what was I right about?"
"It was all about Samantha. I didn't want to see it, but there it was." He drew in a ragged breath. "It's been twenty-two years. Even if she is alive, even if I find her,..."
"Mulder, you know that she's alive."
"Mmm. Yeah, but..." Another ragged breath, a sniffle. Was he crying? "But is that the best thing for her," he blurted out, turning the sentence into one long word.
Scully froze, suddenly remorseful for the anger she'd harbored. "Mulder?"
"Let me finish. Whatever she's been through, how it's effected her, how could anyone deal with that?"
"She might not even know what she's been through. She might not have any memory of that time."
"Would that make it better or worse? Your case is different, Scully. You weren't gone that long. You had weeks to make up for, not years. You weren't a thirty year old woman returned with the memories of an eight year old girl." His tone of voice was saying, you just don't understand.
Scully took a deep breath and tried to phrase her response carefully. Fluctuating between fury and pity, she knew that expressing either would only make matters worse. "Everyone is different, Mulder. Everyone copes with psychological stress in their own way. If Samantha has half of your determination and drive, when, not if, but *when* you find her, I'm sure she'll be all right."
"How can you say that?"
"I'm not saying there won't be emotional scars. Of course there will be. You've got them, too. And so do I."
"And so did Lucy Householder. She never recovered. She was never all right."
"Maybe she wasn't strong enough to recover."
"You can't know that, Scully. Neither of us knows what she was like before she was kidnapped. Maybe she was strong. Maybe she had a bright future ahead of her until it was taken away from her."
"And maybe not. You're trying to make her into a saint."
"She was trying to turn her life around. Don't you think she deserves a little credit for that?"
"Yes. But you can't make a silk purse of a sow's ear. You looked at Lucy and you saw Samantha. That's simply transference, and you should know more about that than I do. I understand why you felt the need to protect her. I understand why you wanted to help her. But, Mulder, she wasn't Samantha. Until you can accept that fact..."
"I know she wasn't Samantha," Mulder hissed.
"Fine, you know it. But until you can accept it, and until you can stop blaming me for whatever your problem is, I don't see any point in discussing it further."
"Fine."
"Fine."
Click. The line went dead. Scully sat on her bed, staring at the phone for a several minutes before returning it to its place on the nightstand. "Bastard," she muttered as she threw herself back down on the bed and buried her head in her pillow. "You son-of-a-bitch. Who do you think you are, Fox Mulder. Lousy, rotten jerk."
'And you're no better than he is,' the voice of her conscience whispered.
She sat up, punched a pillow and turned on the light, the last hope of a decent night's sleep vanishing.
'How can you understand what he's going through? He deserves better.'
The comment she'd made about Lucy, the fact that she'd stopped him from helping that little girl, the bad timing she'd displayed in mentioning Samantha. How many times had he been there for her? This time, he was the one who had needed a shoulder to lean on, and she had been anything but supportive.
"Damn it!"
'You owe him more than this.'
"Damn, damn, damn it to hell. Shit."
She grabbed an empty glass from beside the bed and stomped into the bathroom. Why should she care? Hadn't he caused her enough aggravation over the last three years?
'He blames himself enough for both of you.'
As she held the glass under the running water, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, the dark circles under eyes that betrayed too much anger, too much pain and too much fear. She stared at her reflection until it began to blur and the image changed. For a moment, she saw not herself, but a tormented young woman seeking an avenue of escape from the memories that haunted her, then a terrified child, weak and unable to defend herself against horrors experienced and anticipated. She saw, backlighted against the light from the hallway, the silhouette of a man standing in the doorway. She could see no distinguishing features, but in him, she saw everyone who had caused her pain and she was gripped by a familiar sensation of panic and helplessness. Only half aware that he was a figment of her imagination, she spun around and hurled the glass of water at him. The image dissipated as the glass sailed through it. There was a loud crash as the glass made its connection and shattered against the wall on the other side of the doorway.
Scully stood for a long time, leaning on the counter, trying to control her rapid breathing and waiting for the strength to return to her limbs. When she felt that she could trust herself to walk, she made her way back to the bedroom, dodging the shards of broken glass and the shadows that were playing tricks on her mind. Once back in her bed and under the protective cover of her blankets, she picked up the phone and pressed auto-dial. The phone was answered on the second ring.
"Mulder."
"Mulder, I want to..."
Click.
She pressed redial. No answer on the second ring this time, or on the third, or the fourth, or the tenth. Two could play at this game. She could hold out longer than he could. Fifteen rings. Stubborn jerk, she thought, this time with more affection than anger. Twenty. Maybe he went for a jog. In the middle of the night? Twenty-five. She'd gone too far. She hurt him and if he did anything stupid as a result, he'd have hell to pay. And she'd never forgive herself. Thirty. That's it, she decided, I'm going over there if he doesn't...
The phone was picked up, but he didn't say anything.
"I'm sorry," Scully said.
"I'm listening."
"I was completely insensitive..."
"Yes, you were."
"And you have every right to hate me right now."
"I don't hate you. I don't like you much at the moment, but I don't hate you."
"Then there's hope. I do want to talk about it, Mulder. I don't want to go to bed mad at you."
There was a long pause on the line, then a sound that was almost a laugh. "We sound like an old married couple."
"We're both married to our work and our work includes each other. Actually, in a way, I guess that makes us in-laws."
This time, Mulder did laugh. "No wonder we argue so much. Partners-in-law. It has a ring to it. I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have taken my frustrations out on you. It was unfair."
"That's what I'm here for. You can't keep it bottled up inside."
"I can't treat you like my personal verbal punching bag either."
"You can if you need to. I'm a big girl, I can take it. As long as I can do the same and you promise never to hang up on me again."
"I promise. So, what was with you, Scully?"
"You looked at Lucy Householder and you saw Samantha. I looked at her and I also saw something I didn't want to see. I saw myself, or what I could become if I'm not very, very careful. She never escaped that darkness, Mulder, and sometimes, I don't think I have, either. I got scared and I covered it the only way I knew how. I lashed out at the one person I could talk to about it, the one person who could understand."
"I didn't know," Mulder said softly. "I should have seen it, Scully. I should have..."
"Don't start blaming yourself. We should have been there for each other, but we were too caught up in fighting our own personal battles and we weren't. Let's just try not to make that mistake again."
"Okay. Scully, we're going to have to get up for work in forty-five minutes anyway. You want to forget sleep and meet me for coffee?"
"The usual place?"
"Yeah. See you at six?"
"I'll be there." Scully smiled as she hung up the phone. I'll always be there, Mulder, she thought.
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