Sent: Friday, April 03, 1998

Disclaimer: The X-Files, Bill, Tina and Fox Mulder and Dana Scully belong to
Chris Carter, Fox Television, 1013 Productions, et al. No profit was made from
this story, no infringement intended. Cross my heart.

Thanks to my editor, Teressa. You rock, girl!

Spoilers: None
Category: MulderAngst, Mrs. MulderAngst
Rating: NC17, for language and unfriendly stuff
Distribute and Archive: Yes, please, thank you
Posted 3/98

She swiped at the dust motes and pushed a strand of hair back into place. The
light streaming in through the basement window was waning; it was getting
late. She’d have to quit soon and jump in the shower to make it to her bridge
game on time. She resolved to tackle one small box that had been eluding her
all afternoon before calling it a day.

Tina Mulder reached back, grasped the tattered cardboard corner and pulled.
The childish scrawl on the now revealed left side was at once both foreign and
familiar: "FWM - Keep Out!!" She smiled, recognizing the words her only son
had, at one time, written on everything he owned. In years past, she’d been
hard-pressed to part with her children’s things, preferring to set them aside
for posterity’s sake. She hesitated to open it; the contents might well put
her bridge game in jeopardy. Still, the urge to peek inside was too strong.
She folded back the flaps.

***************************************************************

The shadow in the doorway was silhouetted by moonlight from the hall window.
Misshapen though it was by the teddy bear he’d resumed sleeping with, she saw
her son in the dark form. She sensed his presence without being fully awake.
She also sensed his fear.

Tina backed closer into the center of the bed and patted the mattress in front
of her. Clad in pajama bottoms and an undershirt, Fox hurried forward and
snuggled into her waiting arms. He cradled the bear in his lap as his mother
cradled him.

She tugged the blankets up around them, troubled to feel him trembling against
her. It had been some weeks since his last nighttime visit, though privately
she knew he’d been battling the terror on a regular basis. Tonight must’ve
been especially traumatic for him to risk his father’s wrath and come to her
for comfort. In the dark of night, her pre-pubescent son was still just a
terrified little boy. She rested her chin on his head and hugged him tightly.

"Mom? It was w-worse tonight... I h-heard her scr-screaming. They w-were h-hur
hurting her." Though she knew it would be gone by morning, the stammer worried
her. She put her finger to his lips, "Ssshh, honey, don’t talk... you’ll wake
Dad. Just try to think nice thoughts and go to sleep. You’re okay now; Mom’s
got you." He shuddered, then pressed himself closer and closed his eyes. Tina
felt his hammering heart beneath her hand and bit her lip. As long as he
stayed quiet...

She had almost drifted off again when Fox struggled in her arms and began to
whimper in his sleep. As his thrashing grew wilder, she tried in vain to
soothe him. Suddenly, he cried out; a piercing, agonized sound. He sat bolt
upright in the bed at the same moment his father did.

"What the hell... What in God’s name is he doing in here again?!" Bill Mulder
turned on the bedside lamp and tossed back the blankets. Tina sat up as well,
clasping her son to her. Fox was awake now, wide-eyed and shaking. His lip
quivered, "I’m s-sorry, Dad... I didn’t mean to yell. I’m sorry I woke you
up."

Bill came around the bed and roughly grabbed his son by the shoulders. He gave
him a firm shake, "What did I tell you about coming in here? Huh? Answer me!"

The child’s head was tossed back, "Y-you told me to stay in my room, Dad, b-
but I-"

"I don’t want excuses, Fox. Get back to your own bed," he yanked the boy from
his mother’s arms. The teddy bear fell to the floor as he shoved him toward
the door.

"Please, Dad, I-I’m... scared." Fox pressed himself against the wall, "Don’t
m-make me stay in there alone... I c-can’t sleep... I keep having the d-
dreams." His pleading eyes tore at his mother’s soul, and she silently
wondered if Bill would’ve tormented Samantha so, had the situation had been
reversed. Somehow, she doubted it.

"For God’s sake, Bill," she cried, "he’s frightened!" Her husband reached down
and lifted Fox from the floor, "I’ve had enough of this bullshit, Tina! And
God knows he’s old enough to sleep by himself, even if you don’t." His son’s
bare feet kicked at empty air as he slung him over his shoulder and stormed
from the room.

"Please, Dad, please! I’ll sleep on the floor - just don’t make me stay in
here alone tonight!"

"Shut the hell up! You’re sleeping in here, and that’s final!"

"No... I’m afraid!" She heard the desperation in Fox’ voice. Heard them
grapple as Bill held him down on the bed. Heard the unmistakable sound of her
husband’s hand against her child’s flesh. Then she heard only silence.

Bill’s curt footsteps started back down the hall, followed by Fox’ soft
weeping. Tina clutched the teddy bear in the doorway as she ached to comfort
her son, but knew it would only infuriate her husband more. As he approached
her, she held the stuffed animal out, "At least let me take this to him."

"He’s twelve years old, for chrissake! He doesn’t need a fucking teddy bear,"
a drawn-out, ragged sob reached them, and Bill’s face twisted in anger. He
strode back down to the boy’s room and bellowed, "Enough! Now go to sleep or
I’ll damn well give you something to cry about!" The wailing trailed off into
a small, choked gasp, and Bill Mulder returned to his bedroom. He snatched the
teddy bear from his wife’s hands as he passed, "This thing goes in the trash
tomorrow," and flung it against the wall.

"Bill, no! He loves that bear. You know it’s always been his favorite toy...
you gave it to him," she put her fist to her mouth to hold in her emotions.

"Then put it away and don’t let me catch him sleeping with it again... Are you
coming to bed or not?"

That night she mourned for both of her children.

*************************************************************

"Thanks, Scully. I’ll see you tomorrow... sleep in if you want," he trudged
up the steps, dragging both his luggage and his feet. It had been a trying
week; a horrific case, a moody partner. And precious little sleep. He rejoiced
at the thought of his couch and TV.

Mulder could barely keep himself upright by the time he reached his apartment,
and almost missed the note on his door:

" - Mr. Mulder: A package came for you on Thursday. I have it at my
apartment. Stop and pick it up if you’re home before ten.
- Mrs. Keegan, #46"

He sighed and glanced at his watch. Nine seventeen. He pushed the door open
and threw his bags in before going back down the hall.

He returned several moments later with the package under his arm. Mulder
recognized his mother’s handwriting on the box, but couldn’t imagine what
she’d be sending him. These days, he felt lucky to get a card from her on his
birthday, let alone a gift. And his birthday was still months away.

He flipped on the TV and sank onto the couch with the box in his lap. The
mailing tape gave easily, and he dug into the foam peanuts. He quickly pulled
his hand back when his fingers brushed something furry. Mulder laughed at his
trepidation, then reached in again. He grasped the object and pulled it out in
a flurry of packaging.

His mouth dropped open as he gazed on the long-forgotten plaything. Pushing
the box aside, he settled the toy on his knee. There was a note tied around
it’s neck with a length of ribbon. He turned it toward the light from the
television:

" - My Dear Fox: While cleaning the cellar yesterday, I came across an old
friend of yours. I’m sorry it’s been so long since you’ve seen one another.
I’m sure you remember, as I do, the last time you held him. I refused to toss
him in the trash like Dad wanted, and chose instead to box him up and put him
in storage for you.
It was my hope that as time passed, things would get better and you wouldn’t
need him as much, but I think now I was wrong. I should’ve fought harder for
you that night; I hope you can forgive me for that. Please believe that I
wanted nothing more than to take him in to you and hold you until you fell
asleep.
I can’t give back all the sleepless nights you’ve suffered through, but I can
give you this, along with my love. I hope they’ll both help you dream only
good things on those nights when the monsters won’t stay under the bed.
- Love, Mom"

Fox Mulder swallowed. He carefully removed the note and put it on the table,
then brushed the last of the styrofoam from the bear. Toeing off his shoes, he
stretched out and pulled the fleece throw over himself. He stared up at the
ceiling for several minutes, willing away the unwanted memory. Then he rolled
onto his side, buried his face in the soft fur, and gave in to the fear and
grief he’d locked away that night.

And finally, he slept.