I SHOULD HAVE TOLD YOU!
by P.C.Rasmussen

Date: Sat, 27 Jun 1998

RATING: PG

CATEGORY: MulderAngst big time. ScullyAngst. M/S Romance.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own'em. I'm just borrowing them. They'll be returned in
the state I found them in. :o) They do, however, belong to CC and 1013
Productions and that's about all I have to say about that.

SPOILERS: None, really. 5th Season if any.

ARCHIVE: Yeah, go ahead. As long as my name and e-mail address are attached,
knock yourselves out. :o) And let me know where it goes, please.

FEEDBACK: Please! And thanks to everybody who's commented on my other
stories. All comments are welcome.

THANKS: To everybody who bothers to read this one. :o)

SUMMARY: It's a short thing, based on how I think Scully might react to
Mulder telling her about that vial with her ova he stole from that fertility
clinic way back when. Warning! It's kinda mushy at the end.

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

I SHOULD HAVE TOLD YOU!
by P.C.Rasmussen
believethelie@secret.dk

IN THE OFFICE!

For a while now, he had considered how to tell her. How to break the news to
her. The more time passed, the worse it got. He needed to tell her now or
never. And he just knew she would be angry. But, still. "Scully?"

"Mhmm?" She glanced up from the report she was going over, but didn't really
pay attention to his expression.

"Uhm... there's something I need to tell you," he said, not sure he was
going about this the right way.

"Like what?" she wanted to know, finally meeting his eyes and forgetting
about the report.

"Uhm... like... you know, back when you found out about Emily?" he said,
avoiding her eyes.

"Yeah?" Her tone of voice had become slightly hesitant, slightly suspicious.

"And you found out that you... you know... couldn't have any children?" he
went on, staring down at his folded hands on the table top.

"Get to the point, Mulder," she said, her tone of voice a bit edgy now.

"Well... uhm... I kinda neglected to tell you something which I should have
told you," he confessed.

She hesitated for a moment. "Like what!" she then demanded.

"When I broke into that fertility clinic, where... well, it's a long story
anyway and I'll tell you about it sometime, but it doesn't have anything
really to do with..." he tried to explain, knowing it was going wrong as he
spoke. He was doing it wrong.

"MULDER!" she snapped.

Surprised by her harsh tone of voice, he looked up to meet her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Get to the point, damn it," she growled, looking annoyed.

"Sure. Sorry. Uhm... well, anyway, these guys working there... they showed
me this... kinda vault where they stored human ova they had taken from all
these women who had been abducted. Yours were among them." He swallowed, not
sure how she would take this.

Scully remained silent, staring at him with slight confusion and a good
portion of suspicion. She thought she knew what came next.

"I took one of the vials," he confessed.

"You what?" she asked, sounding surprised. She hadn't expected that.

"I took one of the vials," he repeated, already afraid of what she would say
to that.

"And?" she demanded.

"Well, it's hidden away. To keep it safe from... them. And, I kinda realized
that this means you can have children after all. Maybe not in the
old-fashioned way, but..." he tried to explain, but noting the look on her
face, he trailed off.

Scully stared at him, her expression tense.

"Scully?" His voice wavered lightly.

She didn't say anything. Couldn't say anything.

"Scully, say something," he begged.

Still she remained silent, too much in turmoil to reply. Too upset to find
words.

"Scully, I know I should have told you and I'm sorry I didn't. I don't know
why I didn't," he went on, trying to excuse for his mistake.

And still she kept quiet, staring at him with hard eyes.

"Would you please say something? I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to upset you
and I figured you had a right to know, so I decided to tell you, but..." he
continued, knowing that he had completely fouled this one up.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded, her tone incredulous.

"I don't know. The whole thing with Emily had you so upset back then and...
well..." he tried to explain, but she cut him off.

"You didn't want to give me hope?" Now her tone was starting to turn hard,
icy.

"No, no, that's not it. You know I would never hurt you like that. I just...
didn't think." Confessing it didn't make it any better, he noticed.

"That's obvious," she growled, folding her arms over her chest, her eyes
averted. Then she rose, grabbed her coat and briefcase and turned for the
door.

"Scully, where are you going?" he asked, getting up.

"Home," she countered harshly.

"Scully, I think..." he tried, but again she cut him off.

"I frankly don't care what you think right now, okay? I'm angry. As a matter
of fact, I'm royally pissed at you right now. So don't talk to me and don't
call me," she snapped, no longer able to retain her anger.

"But..." he began, but didn't know what to say.

Scully remained silent and just stared at him for a moment, then turned
around again, grabbed the doorknob and yanked the door open, stepping out
into the corridor, intent on getting away from here as fast as possible. The
turmoil of her feelings threatened to overwhelm her if she didn't get out.

"Scully? Scully, don't go. I... I'm sorry, okay? I really am. And it's not
like it's too late or anything," he called after her, following her out into
the corridor and grabbing a hold of her arm.

"It doesn't have anything to do with the timing, Mulder. It doesn't have
anything to do with that. It has something to do with the fact that you keep
treating me like I was made of glass. Well, I'm not. I can take care of
myself and I would have liked to know about that vial. Because it might have
taken a lot of pain from me. The fact that this little girl, created
artificially or not, was my last chance of having a baby of my own. It tore
me apart. I have just learned to live with that and now you tell me that all
this pain I went through, all the grief and anguish this caused me, could
have been avoided? God, you men are so inconsiderate sometimes." Tears rose
in her eyes as she spoke and she hated herself for being so weak. But it
just hurt so much right now. She felt betrayed, let down.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I..." he stammered, on the verge of tears himself.
He had hurt her again. This time severely.

"Don't touch me. I'm going home. I'll give this some serious thought and
come Monday, we'll just have to see how I feel about it. Have a nice
weekend, Mulder." The latter came out as an angry snarl where after she
stormed down the corridor toward the lifts.

Standing there, he looked after her with defeat painted all over his face.
Then he turned around and went back into the office, closing the door behind
him, and leaned against it. "Oh God, I'm such an idiot," he moaned.

AT HOME!

His thoughts:

I had thought about telling her before. Actually, I thought about telling
her when she was in the hospital, nearly dying of cancer. When she was about
to slip away from me. But I didn't. And then I thought about telling her
when she found and lost Emily. I wanted to tell her then, but I just
couldn't find a good time. And the more time passed, the less likely it was
that she would meet that bit of news with understanding. I know what she's
gone through. God, I know. But I just never got around to telling her and
now that I have, I feel like a complete idiot. Because I didn't do it right.
-- Is there a right way to tell someone something like that? Well, I guess I
could have been more subtle. Or more supportive. Or maybe I shouldn't have
apologized so much. I don't know. This is tearing me apart. I want to be
there for her, yet every time I try to get near, I botch it up. Why? Is it
because of that string of failed relationships I've left behind me? Is it
me? Am I just too stupid to deal with women? Probably. -- God, she must hate
me right now. She must think I'm the worst. I hate myself. I can't stand
myself when I hurt her. And God knows I've done it before. I want to call
her, tell her again how sorry I am. I want to beg for her forgiveness. I
want to hold her and make it all better. I want to be the father of her
children. -- Wow. This is going too far. She can't stand to look at me right
now and I'm thinking about a relationship? She's right. Men are
inconsiderate. I am, anyway. Never learned how to behave toward a woman. Not
properly. But I'm trained as a psychologist. I should know these things. I
should be able to imagine what is going on in her mind and respond to it in
the proper way. Instead I find a wound and I drive nails into it instead of
helping her heal. God, I'm such a moron. -- Would she hang up on me if I
called her? I bet she would. And she wouldn't let me in if I went over
there. Or she would throw me out if I let myself in. No, I think I'd better
stay here and wait for her to call me.

Her thoughts:

Men! Oh God, they make me so furious sometimes. I've been crying all the way
home, behaving like I just lost a loved one. In a sense, I guess I did.
But... am I being too hard on him? He's right, after all. It's not too late
to have children. -- But he should have told me. Damn it, Mulder. When are
you going to learn? -- Damn it, now I'm crying again. Is it because I'm
angry with him? No, I'm more disappointed. Because he keeps treating me like
this rare Ming vase. I'm not an object. I don't break into a thousand pieces
if he handles me wrong. -- Why didn't you tell me? Why? I could have
accepted Emmy's death a lot easier if I had known that I could have children
of my own. Damn it. -- Damn, I hate to cry. Especially when I don't really
know what I'm crying for. I wish I could call somebody and talk about this.
But who do I talk to about something like this? It's not like it's a common
occurrence that you have all your ova stolen and find out that some of them
have been rescued. -- I don't understand why this upsets me so much. Why am
I so sad and angry at the same time? Because he knows how vulnerable I am
about this? No, I've never tried to hide myself. He's the one who can't open
up to me. -- Stop beating yourself up about this. It doesn't help. It
doesn't change anything. -- The only thing it does change is that I can have
children now. My own children. He's right about that. There's still time for
it. And... oh God, why did I treat him like that? That's probably why he
waited so long to tell me. Because he knew I would behave like this. He's a
psychologist after all. He knows these things. -- I can't forget the look in
his eyes. I hurt his feelings. He was trying to tell me this to make me
happy. I know he was. He would never intentionally hurt me. I trust him like
I trust no other. -- Maybe I should call him? -- No, I'm still too upset
about this. He should have told me sooner. The fact that he didn't proves...
what? It doesn't prove anything. -- Damn it, I'm so confused right now. I
don't know what to think. I partially feel like he betrayed my trust and at
the same time I feel as if he has given me the greatest gift one person
could ever give another. -- I need to sleep on this. I need to rest my head.
My eyes hurt. I'm so tired right now. I'm going to bed. I'll call him
tomorrow. Maybe.

THE NIGHT!

His thoughts:

I can't sleep. I can't help thinking about how she's doing. -- I have her
picture tugged away here somewhere. -- There it is. God, she looks so good.
Beautiful. But the eyes. They're sad. This was taken when? No date on the
back. When was it taken? Sometime last year, I think. -- Oh God, Scully, I'm
so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I was somehow hoping that you would be
happy. I knew you would be disappointed that I hadn't told you earlier, but
I was hoping that your happiness over being able to have children after all,
your own children, would outweigh the disappointment. -- Have I lost you
now? Are you going to apply for a transfer to get away from me? I wouldn't
really blame you. God knows you'd be better off without me. -- It's funny
how you can think things and never say them out loud. I love you, Scully. I
really do. -- Dana. I love your name. Dana. It's so... warm. You're such a
warm and giving person. Much like your mother. Like your father, too, I bet.
-- Hoping that there is anything other than a professional relationship in
store for us is ridiculous. Why would you want a guy like me? I'm too messed
up. Too weird. Too spooky. -- But I still love you. I can't help it. You
mean the world to me and I would do anything to make you happy. -- Hell, I'm
off to a good start, aren't I? The moment I get the chance to do something
good for you, I stomp all over your feelings. I'm sorry. I'm such an idiot.
-- I've still got that bottle of Scotch I intended to give the guys. Guess a
glass won't hurt. -- I wonder if that's what my father thought when he
started drinking. Does it drown the sorrow? Or does it make it worse? I
think it might make it worse, really. And it sure doesn't go away. -- Ah, to
hell with it. If I have a hangover in the morning, I deserve it. For being
such an idiot. -- God, that stuff tastes bad. Yuck. I'm never going to be
much of a drinker. -- Ah well. Down the hatch.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING!

Her thoughts:

I actually managed to sleep. I'm surprised. -- Well, not really. It wasn't
all bad news, now was it? No, it wasn't. I'll give him until around twelve.
Then I'll call him and let him know he's forgiven. I know this isn't nice,
but... I can't help feeling a little vengeful right now. -- Well, I'd better
get up. Not that I've got anything planned for this weekend. -- Where is
that bathrobe? -- Oh yes. I left it in the bathroom. -- Oh no. It's raining.
Bloody weather. Oh well. It fits part of my mood. -- What was that? -- Oh
no. What are you doing here? -- Scotch? You're drinking, Mulder? I didn't
think you did. Seems there's a lot I don't know about you, huh? -- Why am I
not surprised to find him passed out on my couch? It's not like he's ever
done this before. I must have really scared him yesterday. -- Well, serves
him right. -- Where was I? -- Oh yes. The bathrobe. -- I'd better make him
some coffee. I think he's going to need it when he wakes up. -- Maybe I'd
better check his vitals? Just in case he's got alcohol-poisoning? -- There I
go, being a doctor again. I know it unnerves him every time I do that.
Silly, really. He should be glad that he can drag his doctor with him
wherever he goes. -- He looks so peaceful right now. It's funny, really.
I've never thought about this before, but he looks so haunted most of the
time. Even when he's smiling. He hasn't had an easy life, has he? -- Now, if
I can only coax that bottle out of his hand without waking him up. -- There!
Now I'll make you some coffee, Fox Mulder. And if you have a hangover...
well, serves you right. You shouldn't be drinking in the first place.

WAKING UP!

His thoughts:

Oh God, my head's going to explode. And the room is spinning. Damn. I knew I
shouldn't have had that Scotch. How much did I drink? A lot by the way my
head feels. And my stomach. I feel sick. -- Bah! Yuck! I can still taste it.
I guess I'd better -- wait a minute. Where the hell am I? -- Oh no! Oh no, I
didn't. She's gonna kill me. If I could just get out of here before she
realizes I was here...

THE CONVERSATION!

"Good morning, Mulder." Her voice startled him into immobility.

Then he turned on the couch, wincing at the churning in his guts. "Scully,"
he said, his voice indicating his embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I don't... I
think I got a bit drunk last night. I didn't mean to..."

"Save your explanations, Mulder. I don't want to hear them," she countered,
her tone of voice hard.

Getting unsteadily to his feet, he grabbed his head, moaning under his
breath. "Don't worry. I'll be out of your hair in a second. I'm sorry. I
shouldn't have come here." Turning around, he attempted to head for the
door, but with the increasing churning of his guts, he realized he wouldn't
make it outside. Instead, he bolted for the bathroom and threw up for ten
minutes before his stomach decided to give him a break and settle down a
bit. Feeling miserable and stupid at the same time, he got warily to his
feet, flushed the toilet and turned to leave.

Scully stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes
regarding him calmly. "I don't think you should be going anywhere in that
condition," she said. "You'll just end up getting arrested or something."

Dropping his eyes, feeling dizzy to the extreme, he stood there with one
hand pressed against his stomach, and felt like a little kid being
reprimanded by a teacher. "I'm sorry, Scully. I really didn't mean to come
here. I... I'm sorry."

"Would you shut up with the excuses already and get back on that couch? You
need to lie down. You're skin is almost green," she told him sternly,
stepping aside and pointing at the couch. "Get!"

Too embarrassed to argue with her, he started toward the couch, dragging his
feet. Stopping in front of her, he glanced at her briefly. "I..." he began,
but she cut him off.

"Get!" she insisted. "I've made you some coffee. You need to rest up before
you go anywhere," she added, her tone still stern.

Dropping back down on the couch, he figured he deserved her anger. He
figured he didn't deserve her attention. And so he apologized again. "I'm
sorry, Scully."

"If I hear you say that one more time, I'm going to kick you out and I won't
let you back in. Do you understand me?" she told him and strode past the
couch to the kitchen to get the coffee.

Draping an arm over his face, he sighed deeply. He was screwing up every
time he opened his damned mouth. So maybe he should just shut up for a
change and let her do the talking. And he was certain she had a lot to say.
At least he hoped she did. If there was one thing he had never been good at
taking, it was silent treatment.

Scully put the coffee pot down on the coffee table next to the mug she had
brought for him and sat down on the edge of the couch, pushing back against
him. "Scoot over," she told him brusquely.

Rolling warily onto his side, pressing his back against the back of the
couch, he blinked bleary-eyed at her. "I shouldn't have come here like
this," he tried again.

"Shut up with the excuses already," she grumbled. "I know by now that you
didn't intend to show up at my apartment in the middle of the night, drunk
no less, and pass out on my couch after you completely and utterly destroyed
my trust in you." She just had to get it off her chest and once it was out,
it didn't feel so bad any more.

He stared at her, unable to find any suitable response to that one, then
looked away, his eyes bright with tears.

Heaving a deep breath, Scully poured him a cup of coffee, then turned a
little, her hip grinding against his stomach. "Here, drink this," she said,
handing him the cup.

Blinking, he gingerly took the cup from her, propped himself up on one elbow
and took a sip. Wincing at the feeling this caused in his stomach, he
briefly closed his eyes. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"We need to talk, Mulder. We need to put a few things straight," she said,
her tone of voice much softer now.

Did he detect sadness in her voice, too? Setting the cup aside, he let his
head sink back down on the couch and looked up at her, hoping she wasn't
about to say what he feared she might. "Okay," he croaked.

Nodding, she knew how her choice of words and tone of voice were affecting
him, but she was about to set him straight on this one. "First of all, I
don't think I need to tell you how disappointed I am that you didn't tell me
this before." She paused for a moment, thinking carefully about what she was
going to tell him, then sighed. "I feel betrayed. I feel that you don't
trust in me enough to tell me something like that. I do believe that I have
a right to decided what I do and don't do when I have the choice. By not
telling me about this, you took that choice away from me. It would have
spared me a long period of grief. -- Well, perhaps it would not have spared
me that grief. I would have grieved over losing Emily anyway. But the
knowledge that I could have children if I decided to would have helped tide
me over in a different way." She was done with the tears on this subject and
all that was left now was the rational explanation she had worked on in her
sleep. The one that would not allow her to hate him or be angry with him for
longer periods of time. There was a meaning in this madness when she cut
down to the core. He had, again, tried to protect her in some warped way. "I
realize that you meant well. I know you would never willingly hurt me. But
you must stop treating me as if I would break. I will not break when you
tell me the truth. I will not crumble into a heap of human misery if you
give me the facts. You should know that by now."

"I know," he said, sounding sad. "I just want to spare you the pain. You've
had so much already. Enough to last a life time. I... I can't help it. I
just feel that I have to protect you from the harm the world might inflict
on you," he tried to explain.

Sitting there with her hands in her lap, she was far away for a moment. Then
she smiled. It was a small smile, but she smiled. "I realize that. But I
don't need protection. I can fend for myself. And believe me, if I need
protection, you're the first I'm going to call, Mulder."

Meeting her eyes, he finally dared to hope that she wasn't about to leave
him behind. "Honestly?" he asked.

The smile widened, became a little warmer. "Yes, honestly." Heaving a deep
breath, she looked him in the eye. "I care deeply for you. I will not throw
five years of working together overboard for this. I know you were afraid of
that. That I would decide to leave. But you won't get rid of me that
easily."

Now he managed to smile, too. "Promise?" he wanted to know.

Pursing her lips, she nodded and crossed her heart. "Cross my heart and hope
to die. Scouts honor," she countered.

Propping himself up on his elbow again, he looking into her eyes, feeling as
if the world was about to become right again. "Then I have another little
something to confess," he said. He just had to get it out.

A little apprehensive about his recent confession, she became slightly
rigid. "And that is?" she asked. Did she really want to know? Yes, she
decided. She did.

Reaching up to brush his knuckles over her cheek, he smiled vaguely. "I love
you," he whispered.

Scully stared back at him, her expression unchanging. Somehow, the words
wouldn't sink in. She had heard them, but it was as if they had been spoken
to another.

"That was too fast, huh?" he asked ruefully, letting his hand drop away and
averted his eyes.

Scully's mind raced. Had he really said that? Yes, he had. She had heard it.
Reaching down, she took his hand. "I have a little confession of my own to
make," she finally replied.

Oh boy, he thought. Here it comes. She's gonna tell me that she's in love
with someone else or something similar. That what I just said means nothing
to her. "Like what?" he wanted to know, defeat already sneaking into his
voice.

Aware that he believed she would say anything but what she was about to say,
she nearly smiled, but clamped down on it hard. Leaning a little closer, she
came very close to him. "I love you, too," she whispered and kissed him. The
look on his face was a real Kodak-moment, she thought and smiled.

Mulder stared at her, his expression full of surprise and wonder. Nausea and
hangover forgotten, he warped a hand around her neck and pulled her down
into a kiss. Yes, he thought, as their lips met. This was the way it was
supposed to be. This was the way things should work out.
THE END