TITLE:  Responsible
AUTHOR:  bcfan 
EMAIL:  bcfan@shaw.ca
RATING:  PG-13 
CLASSIFICATION:  MSR, AU 
DISCLAIMER:  Not mine, will never be.
THANKS TO: Redwyne, for beta devotion extaordinaire.

***
 
    
There were birthday streamers and a half-eaten cake with 
four drooping candles.  Laughing pre-schoolers and 
balloons bounced off the rec room walls.  Pin the tail on 
the donkey with paper tails nowhere near the target.  The 
sweet, tangy smell of apple cider mingled with the crisp 
fall air of an open doorway.

At the centre of the room, Teena stood and stretched, her 
overdue pregnancy obvious to her young son.  Fox 
remembered his parents' discussion.  Mommy had insisted 
on this party.  Last one before the new baby, Fox had 
overheard her say to daddy - who had grumpily 
complained, then sat behind the desk in his study.  When 
Fox peeked into the study he saw his daddy unlocking the 
desk drawer and reaching for a magazine that no one was 
supposed to talk about.  Fox hurriedly withdrew into the 
rec room again.  As the racket of overexcited voices rose in 
the rec room, Fox heard daddy's irritated voice. 

"Can't you shut those kids up?" 

As his guests quieted, the birthday boy froze, then looked 
anxiously at his mommy.

Is daddy mad?  Fox whispered. 

Teena sighed,  giving her son a brief squeeze on the 
shoulder.  "Let's all go play outside," she suggested to the 
group.  "I have popsicles to share.  And Bradley's mother 
is bringing over his puppy soon."

Like puppies themselves, the group tumbled out into the 
yard, coats half-buttoned and spirits racing.  Swinging on 
the tire, eating popsicles, throwing leaves and admiring the 
new visitor and her pet - all exciting activities for a group 
of small boys.  And after a lingering moment of worry, 
Fox enthusiastically joined in.

As sunlight turned to twilight, mothers walked up the street 
to collect their offspring.  Each parent wished Teena well 
as they exchanged friendly greetings; each comment on 
how much Fox had grown made him smile shyly with 
pleasure.  The benefice of small town support was offered 
and gratefully received.

Teena gently grasped Fox's hand as they walked together 
into the kitchen.

"Did you have a happy birthday, Fox?" Teena smiled.

Fox grinned back, his hazel eyes sparkling.  "Yes, 
mommy.  It was so fun!  Thank you."  Fox put his small 
arms around his mother's wide middle, and kissed her 
waist.  "I love birthdays," Fox declared.

At Fox's impromptu kiss, Teena laughed.  "I'm glad.  And 
next year, you'll have a little brother or sister at your 
birthday party."

Fox nodded.  He understood that a baby was coming.  But 
what if -  "Mommy, can I have a puppy instead of a baby 
next year?  Bradley has one."

Bill, who had been drinking scotch and lurking near the 
study at the kitchen door, shook his head at this innocent 
question.  As he strode into the room, his voice was 
solemn, "Sorry, son.  When I was your age, I remember 
that I wanted a puppy too.  But I got your Aunt Martha 
instead."

Fox shrugged his small shoulders, then smiled up at his 
father.  He could sense that daddy was in a better mood 
now, and that made him happy too.  "Daddy," he declared, 
"thank you for my birthday party.  It was the best one I 
ever had!"  

Fox held out his arms for a hug - and was surprised when 
his father shook his hand instead.

"You're four years old now, Fox.  No more hugs - you're 
a big boy now.  When the baby is born, you'll be 
responsible - do you know what that means?"

Fox smile faltered as he tried to hide his disappointment.  
No more hugs?  Fox loved his parents' hugs and kisses, but 
his brow furrowed in distraction as he tried to answer his 
daddy's question correctly. 

"I - I th-think I do."

"No stuttering, Fox," barked his father, "stand up straight 
and speak up."  Bill took another gulp of his drink, the ice 
clattering in his glass.

"Bill," Teena soothed, but Bill waved her away.  "Teena, if 
the boy is old enough to read his own birthday cards, it's 
time for him to start helping out around here." 

Shifting his feet nervously, Fox gulped.  "Yes, sir...re-
spon-sible - that means I'm in charge."

Bill smiled triumphantly at his wife.  "See, Teena, Fox 
knows what's going on."  He turned and stared at the boy.

"Good answer, son."  Fox beamed at the unexpected 
praise.  When he drank those smelly drinks, Fox was never 
sure how daddy would react.

"But," Bill continued, "Responsible means something else 
too.  It means that when you're in charge, you can't make a 
mistake.  Because if you make a mistake, you deserve to 
be punished.  If you're responsible it's your fault if 
something goes wrong."

Fox smile faded and he bit his lip, his eyes filling with 
tears.  He already knew what it meant to be punished.   
He'd felt his pants pulled down.  The sting of a hard hand 
on his tender backside.  The sobs and promises.  Fox knew 
he sometimes wasn't good enough for his daddy. 

"Are you crying, Fox?" Bill snapped in exasperation.

"No, sir," he declared, ducking his head.

Teena moved her bulky weight between her husband and 
son, a smile pasted on her face. 

"Bill," she chirped, "Let me start Fox's bath, then he can 
put himself to bed.  Why don't you see what's on t.v., and 
I'll be back with a snack just for us."

"Fine," Bill grumped, then snagged the bottle on the way 
out of the kitchen.

Fox gazed up gratefully into his mother's face.  "Thank 
you, mommy."  He quietly continued, "And it's okay if we 
have a baby instead of a puppy.  I can take care of the 
baby.  I can be responsible."

"I know you'll be a wonderful big brother," Teena 
murmured.  "Don't worry, Fox.  Everything will be fine."

And later that evening as Fox snuggled into sleep, he 
hoped that it would be. 


------------



There were birthday streamers and a half-eaten cake with 
thirty-eight drooping candles.  Laughing guests and 
balloons decorated with stars hanging on the apartment 
room walls.  Pin the antennae on the alien with the 
decorated papers nowhere near the target.  The sweet 
smells of ice tea and white wine mingled with the scent of 
incense burning under the fish tank in the corner. 

At the centre of the room, Dana Scully stood and idly 
stretched.  The assortment of guests Mulder had suggested 
made for a fascinating mix - Mulder's gunmen friends, 
Chuck Burke and Margaret Scully, among others.  Mulder 
was amused and touched by the fact that Scully had 
insisted on this birthday party for him.  Long hospital 
hours when Scully was recovering from her cancer had led 
to long, quiet conversations.  Mulder began to open up and 
talk about some of his childhood experiences, in an effort 
to amuse and engage his friend.  When he had mentioned 
in passing that his fourth birthday had been his happiest, he 
thought Scully was disinterested as she idly asked for 
details - but now she seemed determined to repeat a good 
experience for him.  Both of them had been through so 
much.  Now it was time to relax and celebrate.

Mulder grinned at Scully, - then leapt to her side and eased 
her onto the corner of the sofa.  "You sit," he declared, 
"and I'll get you a drink.  What would you like?"

"Ice tea," Scully smiled back.  "I put some fresh ice in 
your freezer."

Mulder headed into the kitchen and opened the freezer. He 
was delighted to find some rocket-shaped popsicles hiding 
there.  In earlier conversations, he had insisted that 
popsicles were superior birthday food.

"Scully!" he crowed gleefully, and held his treat aloft for 
all to see. 

Mulder gestured to the group.  "Who wants a popsicle?"

"Not me, thanks," murmured Sharon Graffia, who was 
there with her new fiance.  "In fact," she continued, "we 
should be going now.  But thanks so much for inviting us."

Several of the guests began to take their leave, warmly 
shaking Mulder and Scully's hands.  Soon only the 
gunmen remained.  

Langly slapped Mulder on the back.  "Great party, dude.  
Who would have thought that you'd be responsible for bringing 
so many people together in one place!"

Mulder paled and bit his lip.  He glanced as Scully, who 
seemed worried by his emotional sea change, but he 
couldn't help himself.  The specter of birthday's past were 
near his thoughts on this day.  Mulder felt protected as 
Scully stood in front of him.  "It was my idea, Langly - not 
Mulder's.  Mulder just has the good taste to know a wide 
variety of interesting people."

"Yeah, that's us - interesting!" boomed Frohike, who 
glanced shrewdly at Mulder, then continued, "Come on 
guys, let's give the birthday boy some privacy - with his 
favourite chickadee." 

They quickly faded out the door; Scully turned and gently 
placed her palm on Mulder's cheek.  

"Is something bothering you, Mulder?" she murmured. 

Mulder shrugged.  "You know me, Scully.  The life of the 
party."

"Mulder."  Scully spoke quietly.  "I'm tired.  Let's sit 
down for a minute." 

Mulder sighed and settled in beside Scully on the couch.  
He knew Scully could tell that he was suddenly feeling 
sad.  It was hard.  Intellectually, he knew now that he 
hadn't caused Samantha's disappearance and the break-up 
of his parent's marriage.  But emotionally... 

He had never told Scully one of the reasons that his fourth 
birthday was his happiest.  It was because, until his fourth 
birthday, he remembered being carefree.  And starting the 
day after his fourth birthday, he had woken to a world 
where he was responsible.  His father had been sure to 
teach that lesson again and again.

Scully spoke conversationally, "When I was in the hospital 
and we were talking - I really liked hearing about when 
you were a boy.  I care about the boy you were, Mulder."

Mulder didn't want to tell her, and he did.  He trusted 
Scully, but it was hard.

He took a deep breath.  "I - I wasn't always a good kid, 
Scully."  He laughed shakily.  "I screwed up a lot."

"What do you mean, Mulder?"  Neutral voice, but Mulder 
shrugged and looked away.  Scully sat quietly, laying her 
hand on Mulder's arm for support.

He tried again, speaking against the lump in his throat.  "I 
was a big brother, Scully.  I was responsible.  Although 
Sam might not have always agreed."  

Mulder tried to lighten his tone, but inside feelings welled 
up that were as overwhelming as they were illogical.  He 
always felt that, when he made mistakes, he deserved to be 
punished.  

"Did your dad hit you, Mulder?"  

At Mulder's mute nod, Scully sat silent, waiting.

"He - he b-beat me, Scully.  And - and he said things."  
Mulder's face was frozen, expressionless.  His gaze was 
turned inward to past horrors.  

Scully gazed solemnly into Mulder's face.  "No child 
deserves to be hurt, Mulder.  You know that." 

Mulder was silent and pale, pressing his lips together. 

"Did your dad say you were responsible for things that 
happened to your family?"

Feelings that Mulder had ruthlessly shoved inside himself 
since his childhood began to rise in his throat.  He 
swallowed, trying to shove them back down, to maintain 
control.  

Shaking with effort, Mulder gasped, and then began to sob 
as years of hurt overwhelmed him.  He broke down, 
clinging to Scully and burying his face in her shoulder as 
he cried for long minutes.  Mourning all he had lost.  
Scully held on, strong and accepting, until Mulder finished 
and looked up in exhausted embarrassment.  He swiped his 
sleeve over his face.

"Now you know all my secrets, Scully," he tried to joke.  
She smiled tenderly back.

"But you don't know my secret, Mulder."  Murmured 
words that helped bring him out of himself and back into 
the room.  Mulder started to draw back, but Scully held on 
tight to his arms, so he relaxed into her supportive touch.

"My secret is that I pretend to be strong - but I rely on 
you, Mulder.  I have for years.  All through my illness up 
until right now."

Mulder rewarded her with a watery smile.  She continued.

"I know what being responsible means.  It's very important 
for us.  It means that we're able to trust and depend on 
each other.  All the way.  Let's face it partner - we watch 
each other's backs.  And we do a hell of a job of it!"

Mulder sat taller, a thoughtful look on his face.  "You're  
right, Scully.  I am responsible for you.  And you're
responsible for me." 

"Right back at you, Mulder."  Scully and Mulder smiled at 
each other, then he murmured, "Thanks, Scully."

"No problem at all."  Scully stood, and then walked to 
remove something from her large jacket pocket.  She 
displayed the video with a flourish and exclaimed, "And 
now to make your birthday complete..."

"Soylent Green!  All right!"  Mulder leapt up, relieved at 
the change of subject.  He swept the magazines from his 
coffee table, then propped his feet up as he sagged back 
into the sofa.  Scully turned after popping the video into 
the VCR, and Mulder patted the place next to him.  Soon 
they were quietly laughing and joking with the movie's 
dialogue.


------------
 

There were birthday streamers and a half-eaten cake with 
four drooping candles.  Laughing pre-schoolers and 
balloons bounced off the front room walls of the small 
house.  Pin the tail on the donkey with paper tails nowhere 
near the target.  The sweet, tangy smell of apple cider 
mingled with the crisp fall air of an open doorway.

At the centre of the room, Fox Mulder stood, grinned and 
idly stretched.  Since reuniting with his small family, he 
had gone overboard with every celebration, but birthdays - 
they were the best.

Mulder snagged a small boy out of the troupe running past, 
and lifted him high.

"Daddy!" squealed Will.  "Help me catch Matty.  He has 
my popsicle!"

Mulder laughed.  "Let him have it.  I have two more hiding 
for us to share when Matty is gone."

At Will's happy nod, Mulder placed him back on his feet 
to continue the game.  Mulder wandered into the kitchen.  
Scully, placid but drooping, sat at the table nursing a 
steaming cup of tea.

Mulder walked behind his wife and began to massage her 
shoulders.  Scully sighed with contentment.

"How are you holding up, Scully?"

Scully faked a whine.  "When is the time up?  Will this 
party ever end?"

Mulder laughed, but both were relieved to hear a knock on 
their front door, signaling a parent's arrival.

"We're in the homestretch now, Scully.  Just hold on a bit 
longer."

Soon small guests were collected by parents, and Scully 
began to clean up as Will wandered in for a snuggle.  
Climbing up onto his dady's lap, he put his small arms 
around Mulder's neck and - grinning - kissed his chin.

"Thank you, daddy," Will enthused, his blue eyes 
sparkling.  "That was the best birthday of my whole life!"  

"Glad you liked it, sprout," Mulder grinned back.

"I'm not a sprout, I'm big now.  I'm like a whole tree!"  
Will stretched his arms as high over his head as he could, 
to prove his point.

"Not too big for hugs, though," Mulder replied, and gave 
Will another friendly squeeze.

Will hummed in contentment.  And began to relax in his 
father's arms.  Soon, the flush of sleep crept over Will's 
features, and Mulder gently picked him up, carrying him to 
his small bed.

"Scully," Mulder whispered, as he brushed wavy auburn 
hair off Will's brow.  Scully stepped into the doorway. 

"Down for the count, huh?" she commented, smiling.

"Yup.  I guess he won't be missing that nap after all."  

As they wandered into the living room, Mulder suddenly 
cicled his arms around Scully's waist and soundly kissed 
her.

"I like," Scully said, breathless.  "Special occasion, or are 
you up to something?"  

"I'm up to happiness, Scully."  Mulder's eyes shone with 
contentment.  "Our little responsibility ran me ragged 
today." 

Scully responded with a gentle kiss to his lips.  "Partners, 
Mulder.  Soulmates.  We depend on each other.  And I 
wouldn't have it any other way.  C'mon, let's get a little 
rest ourselves."  

Scully tugged on Mulder's arm.  As he willingly followed 
her to their bedroom, Mulder spared a brief moment to 
reflect on birthdays past and present, before eager thoughts 
of the future shone like sunbeams, warming Mulder in 
places that - until Scully - had been empty and sad for 
years.  He had changed.  Love was responsible.

 

END 'Responsible' by bcfan