From: macspooky@erols.com

Subject: Generations 4: Grief
Date: 26 Jul 1995

Here is the next part in my Generations series. This story takes
place after Mulder and Scully return from New Mexico. It assumes
everything turns out as alright as it ever does for Mulder. It can
stand alone or as part of my "Generations" series where it would occur
just prior to "A Wonderful Day." If you've read that series, you'll
know where to insert it! Enjoy folks. As usual, thanks to CC, 1013 and
Fox for unknowingly lending my their characters. No theft is
intended. I'm still enjoying myself here. This one is rated G. (June
24, 1995)

GRIEF

by

Mac Spooky

The pain was with him all the time and it wouldn't go away.
Sometimes, when he worked, he could put it out of his mind for a
little while...almost...but then it would come back more intense than
ever. He had loved his dad. All he'd wanted from life besides
finding Sam was a hug from his father, to hear the words, "I'm proud
of you son," and to know the reason why, why the anger, why the
cruelty, why the beatings. He'd been close, so close to finally
knowing. His dad had reached out to him at what had turned out to be
the end of his life, hugged him briefly and said, "You're a smart boy,
smarter than I ever was." Then, before Fox could ask his questions,
his father was gone, cut down by an assassin's bullet. The pain and
the grief and the anger simply wouldn't leave him. He held it inside,
in careful check like the rest of his emotions, but he could not
eliminate it, could not find any real peace from it. The phone on his
desk rang. He answered it.

"Mulder," he said and listened carefully. "Alright,
alright, tell Mr. Barnett I'll be there tomorrow at 9:30."
"Everything okay Mulder?" asked his pretty red haired
partner. She looked at him with concern in her eyes. There wasn't
much he could hide from Scully he knew, a fact that was inconvenient
at times, but that had saved his life more than once. There were
advantages to having someone that close and disadvantages.
"Yeah. Everything is okay," he sighed. "That was my
dad's lawyer. He's been bugging me to meet with him since we got back
from New Mexico. I guess I better drive up to the Vineyard tonight
and meet with him in the morning. Maybe its time I visited my
father's grave and saw my mother too. I'll get it all over with in
one trip and then I can just forget it and get on with my life."
"You can't just forget it," she said softly. Dana
truly felt for her friend. He was so alone in the world. She often
wondered how he had survived with no family to love him and more, with
nothing to love except the memory of a lost little sister and a tank
full of fish. He had so much love inside him to give, if only the
right person would come along and allow him to be himself. "It dies
down but it never completely goes away.....Mulder....would you like me
to come with you? I'm not busy this weekend," Dana asked him on the
spur of the moment. She never pried into his personal life if she
could avoid it, but he'd been so sad lately. She didn't like the
thought of leaving him alone with his grief, not after all he'd been
through lately.
"No Scully," he replied although he would have liked
nothing more. "This is something I need to do alone."
He saw that she looked more than a little worried and
a bit hurt as well. He knew his attitude had brought her pain in the
past. Well, at least this time he was telling her , not simply
ditching her, and she wouldn't have to come and rescue him. Besides,
he didn't have the heart to tell her that she wouldn't be welcome on
Martha's Vineyard. His mother had her own reality sometimes and had
made up her mind that Samantha really was dead and that Fox never
would have traded her away if it hadn't been for an evil influence,
some diabolical individual. Dana, his partner, had become that evil
person in her mind. It was best that the two women stayed away from
each other, best for his mother, best for his partner. Still, he
didn't want to seem ungrateful to Dana, so he smiled at her.
"What I'd really like is a pot of your homemade stew when I came
back. With dumplings. Is that a favor you could do me?"
"Sure Mulder," she replied. "I'll make it, and you
call me when you get in." She was a bit surprised at his request, but
it was easy enough to do for him. Perhaps he would open up and talk
to her then, and it would make him feel better. She sensed that there
had been more than just disagreements between Fox and his father. She
sensed that he had been an abused child. Perhaps he would tell her,
and then she could help or at least console him.
"Thanks. You are truly an angel and a wonderful
partner," he grinned. "Best I ever had next to Krycek."

Fox packed a bag, gassed up his car, and drove through
the evening. It was late when he got to the Vineyard and rather than
bother his mother and her second family so late at night, he checked
into a small motel. He took a shower and tried sleep, but it just
wouldn't come. He would doze and then awaken from nightmares with the
question on his lips, "Why dad? Why?" Finally he gave up and
switched on the TV. Morning was a long time in coming. During that
time he made up his mind that he had to get a life, perhaps meet an
interesting woman, a drop dead gorgeous brunette. He'd always favored
brunettes. Blonds came second on his list of attractive women,
redheads last. Too many freckles. He didn't like
freckles...except..Fox Mulder pushed the thought away. Dana was his
friend. What he needed was someone, someone to take his mind off his
grief and trouble. It wasn't fair to Scully to rely on her all the
time. Well, it would have to wait until he got back to DC. A
beautiful brunette on Martha's Vineyard was not going to do him any
good. Finally he slept for an entire hour before getting up to dress
for his appointment.

Barnett, Barnett, Siegel and Anderson was an old law
firm. His dad had always gone to Howard Barnett, the senior partner.
Fox was issued into a plush office, the kind that screamed of old
money. He declined a cup of coffee politely and resigned himself to
some small talk. Mr. Barnett was more gray and had put on a bit of
weight, but otherwise looked the same as he had when Fox had been a
child.
"So," smiled the man, "Little Fox all grown up. You
have your mother's eyes."
"Yes Sir," he replied noncommittally.
"Taciturn like your Dad too," quipped Barnett.
"Why am I here? My father cut me out of his will
years ago," demanded Fox tired of small talk already. He'd never
really liked it much. The only group of people he seemed to be able
to manage it with comfortably was Dana's family probably because they
didn't ask him a whole lot of personal questions.
"Ah, but the morning of his death he came to me and
made a new will Fox. He was dying you know...lung cancer. Certainly
his murder was a tragedy, but he didn't have much longer left in any
case. In the end it might have spared him a great deal of pain."
"I didn't know. We didn't speak much," was all Fox
said. He didn't know what to feel about it. A part of him would have
liked his dad to have felt that pain, to know what it was like to
suffer, but another part of him rejected that and made him feel
exasperation with himself for having such awful thoughts about his own
flesh and blood. Then outrage welled up in Fox once again because in
speeding up Bill Mulder's death, the assassin had deprived him of the
chance to ask his questions.
"Well, he did son," said the man kindly. Everyone in
Chilmark knew the story of Fox and his father, of the beating that had
nearly killed the boy when he was 13. His father, unable to deal with
the loss of his daughter, had attacked his son in a drunken rage.
He'd never been easy on the boy, but that day had been a nightmare.
He had been called to the local jail to represent Bill as the child
lay in the hospital with a broken arm and blackened eyes. He had never
felt easy about defending a child abuser, but he had done his job. He
had succeeded in getting Bill released with only a slap on the
wrist. Ruth Mulder, however, had had a complete breakdown, and he had
made certain the boy had been sent to live with an aunt when he came
out of the hospital, out of the grasp of his father. At least he had
been able to do that to salve his conscience.
"Okay." said Fox, "What do I need to know?"
"Since your mother is remarried and Ed Tillet is
imminently wealthy on his own, all of the money was left to you," said
Howard Barnett. "You are a very wealthy man Fox. The estate excluding
the house is in excess of three million dollars."
Fox sighed. He didn't care about the damn money. He
didn't want the damn money. He'd lived his entire life with his
father promising him he'd never get a dime of it, that it was better
to leave it to a home for unwanted dogs than to put it in the hands of
the person who'd let his only sister be kidnapped. Fox felt the money
was cursed. He wanted to tell Mr. Barnett to give it to charity. On
the other hand, the money could be used to hunt for Samantha. Money
talked. It would enable him, if he so chose, to leave the FBI with no
worries about supporting himself and continue his search on his
own. Ultimately, that is probably what his father had had in mind.
Perhaps some good would come from it afterall. When he found Sam, he
would have the resources to look after and provide for her. The
battle between logic and emotion raged within him for a lingering
moment. Then, logic won out. Oddly, he found himself silently
thanking Dana Scully once again, for he realized that two years before
he would have been incapable of thinking that way. It was her
influence that had helped to ground him and to enable him see two
sides of a story. It seemed he was always thanking her for something
however silently.
"Alright," said Fox. "Go ahead and put the will
through probate. When the process is complete, please find me the
name of a good real estate agent to sell the house."
"If you are certain that is what you want to do with
it, I shall by all means do so."

Fox left the office of Barnett et. al. and headed out
of town to his mother's house. It was really more like a mansion.
Edward Tillet, her second husband, was indeed a very wealthy man. He
had known Ruth since they were children and after losing his wife to
heart disease and after Ruth's breakdown and divorce, they had
married. To their surprise and delight, several years later Ruth had
given birth to twin girls, Jennifer and Amanda. How happy Fox had
been for them! The little girls were precious. He'd been away in
England when they were born, but had flown home to see them. It had
quickly become obvious to him, however, that his mother wasn't
comfortable with him around the babies. It was as though she feared
that his very presence would cause her new family to be lost as well.
This hurt him, but he respected her unspoken wishes and didn't bother
with them much. He sent them a card and a check on their birthday and
told them that he loved them, but he saw them rarely and lived with
the pain. They had grown up a lot since the last time his path had
crossed theirs. They were nearly 15, young ladies. He smiled when he
saw them. These half sisters didn't look like Samantha at all,
something of a relief to him because he wasn't certain that he'd be
able to deal with them if they had. They took after their dad, small
like Scully, but with light brown hair. They too had Ruth's eyes,
hazel that changed color though. He was glad to see them. He wondered
if they had boyfriends.

:Lunch was an uncomfortable affair in which Ed tried to make
small talk about the girls' school, what was happening at the club,
how he was enjoying working at home. No one mentioned the FBI. No
one asked how he had done since his illness in Alaska or since nearly
being framed for his father's murder. Ed was a nice man, a very
decent human being. It had been Ed, a neighbor, who had rescued Fox
from his father's drunken rage when he'd been thirteen. He'd always
been kind to Fox as a child. But, Ed Tillet was very protective of
his wife and would not allow anything to be said that would upset her.
Finally, Fox was able to indicate that he needed to leave. He
promised the girls something special for their birthday. Dana would
know something that no 15 year old could live without. She'd find the
perfect gift. He knew it. If she couldn't, Mrs. Scully would know.
He found himself thinking about gold crosses. Dana had been 15 when
her mom had bought her the small gold cross she always wore. He didn't
even know if his sisters were religious.

He went to the small cemetery outside of Chilmark where all
the Mulders were buried. The day had turned suddenly overcast and
chilly and he was glad for his jacket. His mother had chosen the
headstone. It was tasteful, of course. Ruth Mulder would never do
anything tacky. It was inscribed, "Once beloved husband to Ruth and
loving father to Fox and Samantha." Fox found himself feeling bitter
wondering where the love had been. His dad had loved Ruth. Of that
Fox had no doubt. He was demanding with her. The house had to be
clean, his dinner just right, but he had seen them kissing now and
then, and touching occasionally. He had never hit her to Fox'
knowledge. He had adored Samantha. He was strict with her in some
ways too, but she'd been the apple of his eye. His wrath had been
saved for his son. "I'll make a man out of you boy. I'll teach you
not to cry when you take a fall. Now take down your pants. Here's
six with the strap for not listening to me boy, and here's another for
crying. Don't you touch that baby. That baby is the most precious
thing in the world..."
"But dad, I only wanted to hold her...daddy, daddy no daddy..I
only wanted to love her..don't hit me again daddy...I won't pick her
up again." Fox brought himself out of his reverie. He felt tears in
his eyes and the sting of his father's belt. Pulling himself together,
he was suddenly sorry that he was alone. He wished he had someone
here with him, someone who would stand beside him quietly and not
expect him to talk. He needed someone. He had no one. He glanced up
and caught a glint of red in the direction of the trees. It wasn't a
bird. The color was wrong. He thought he was losing his mind for a
moment. Then, he ran in the direction of the trees. Sure enough,
there she was standing quietly wrapped in her long beige trench
coat. Dana, his friend, his partner, his someone.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded not knowing whether to
shout for joy or be angry.
"Contrary to what you might think, I didn't believe it wise
for you to be alone right now," she said softly. "And I wanted to pay
my respects. I'm sorry if I'm intruding."
"You shouldn't be here," he told her, but there was no
conviction in his voice.
"No one needs to see me," she said. She didn't waste time
being hurt. "I know I'm not welcome here Mulder. I have a cab
waiting. I just needed to know that you are okay."
"I will be," he said softly, "now that I have a friend with
me. Get rid of the cab and we'll drive back together."
"Okay," she replied relieved. She gave him a quick smile. She
returned in a moment and stopped briefly by the grave sight.
"Sometimes Fox, there are no answers. Whatever went wrong
between you and your dad is over now. You have to let it rest and go
on with your life. You still have Sam to look for."
"I know sweet.....Scully," he said quietly, "and it's good to
know that I won't be doing it alone." He rested his arm lightly on her
shoulder, "Now what about that pot of stew you promised me?"
"Already cooked," she smiled. "I just need to pop in the
dumplings." The two friends headed for his car and the long drive
back to Washington. Fox knew it wouldn't seem so long to him now
because he was in the presence of his best friend.

The End