Chapter Text
March 1996
Fox Mulder sighed as he walked empty handed out of the shop. He was jostled about by the other pedestrians as they hurried about their day. His hands in his pockets, he sighed again as he kept his head down. He had gotten the time of his counseling session wrong, not having written it down last week, and he’d had an hour to wait.
As he had walked out of the counselors office, he had thought about his conversation with Samantha the previous night, reminding him about their mother’s birthday dinner that evening. He did not want to go, not at all, but of course he would be there. Samantha had reminded him about getting a gift and he swore as he hung up.
Wishing he could claim to not have had the time, he knew the hour mix up would give him plenty of time to find something. He had walked down the street intent on grabbing the first thing he found sufficient.
Three shops had been passed through quickly and still he had found nothing. Feeling discouraged and a bit angry, he opened the door to the next shop, stepped inside, and nearly walked right out again.
His mother was not an overly sentimental or knickknacky type person. She felt things should serve a purpose, not just sit on a shelf collecting dust and as a result she was a difficult person for which to shop.
This shop, full of tchotchkes and cutesy little things, was definitely not her style. Crafty things and happiness seemed to ooze out of every corner and he felt his annoyance rising.
But then, he noticed a teal colored wall, with shelving shaped like diamonds, holding skeins of yarn in vibrant colors. For some reason, that drew his attention and pulled him forward, despite his previous desire to leave.
“You need help with anything?” A voice said and he turned to find a woman with long wavy reddish hair. She was wearing a flowing dress, a lacy long sleeveless shirt over it, and a choker necklace. She stared at him with raised eyebrows and he shook his head as he cleared his throat.
“No. No that’s okay. I uh… I was actually just leaving,” he said, attempting to step around her, no longer wanting to look more closely at the yarn, but she did not move.
“Leave? But your hands are empty,” she stated and he looked down, as did she. Looking back up at her, she gave him a cheeky smile and it irritated him.
“Nothing here I’m interested in, so…” He started to walk past her, ignoring the astonished noise she made, when a different woman came into the room and his heart dropped.
She was carrying a vase of flowers, an almost secret smile on her face. She had to be related to the other woman, their hair similar in shade, but she was a bit shorter. When she looked their way, her blue eyes seemed to see right through him. She smiled wider and he took a deep breath, realizing he had stopped breathing when he saw her.
She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
“Hello!” she said, setting the flowers down and coming over to them. “Did you find what you’re looking for? Did you need help with anything?”
“He says there’s nothing here that interests him,” the woman behind him said and he turned to look back at her. She stared him down, almost daring him to say otherwise.
“Oh,” the shorter woman said and he turned toward her, feeling flushed and slightly uncomfortable. She looked at him with her blue eyes wide and he swallowed hard. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I uh… I just meant I hadn’t found anything… yet.”
“Hmm,” the woman behind him hummed but he ignored her, fixated on the woman in front of him.
“Well, I’d be happy to help you if you’d like.” She smiled and his heart raced.
Jesus Christ, she even had a dimple in her cheek.
“Missy? Would you mind getting that gift ready for Mrs. West? She should be in later.”
“Not one bit. Glad she at least was able to find something interesting to buy.” She walked past them, turning to look at him with a smirk and he sighed.
“Please don’t mind her. She’s my sister and quite snarky at times. This is my shop and we’re sort of working together right now and she’s driving me a little crazy.” She had leaned in and said that quietly as the woman who was her sister walked away. She smiled again and stuck out her hand. “My name is Dana. It’s nice to meet you.” He took her hand and nodded.
“Fox Mulder.”
“Seriously?” she asked, scrunching her chin quickly and clasping his hand with her other hand. “I’ve never met someone named Fox.” He let go of her hand and put his hands in his pockets. “I knew someone named Red, which always made me giggle. And even a… Coyote, but never a Fox.”
“Yeah… well,” he said with a shrug, suddenly irritated again as he glanced around.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said and he looked back at her, finding her smiling. He shrugged again, angry at himself for feeling annoyed by her.
“So what can I help you find?” she asked, clasping her hands together.
“Uh… I honestly don’t know. I just came in here because I have somewhere to be and I got the times mixed up.”
“Oh… well then, I understand you not finding anything to interest you.”
“I didn’t mean… I do need to find a gift. For my mother. This just isn’t really her style.” He waved around the room and she nodded, keeping her eyes on him.
“Not a knickknack person, I get it,” she smiled. “Not a problem. Not everyone is. I promise I won’t be offended if you walk out and leave with nothing.” She smiled and he suddenly wanted to buy something, anything really, just to see her smile like that for longer.
“I…” He took a hand out of his pocket and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Please don’t feel any pressure to buy anything. It’s cold out, you’re killing time… I understand.”
“Why?”
“Excuse me?” Her eyes widened and he put his hand back in his pocket, both of them now in tight fists.
“Why would you not care if I didn’t buy anything?” he asked harshly and she stepped back a step, crossing her arms and holding his gaze. He stared and felt like an asshole more than he ever had in his life. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
“I’ll let you look around. See if anything strikes you.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again and she nodded, her eyes still watching him.
“Have a look around,” she said quietly and smiled, though not the same as before.
“Yeah…” He nodded, his hands still in fists in his pockets. She walked away and he looked at the door, wondering if he could make a run for it without being noticed.
But then, her sister Missy walked past him and turned to glance at him as she did. She raised her eyebrows, looked at Dana, and looked back at him. Rolling her eyes, she walked away and he let out of breath.
Glancing at his watch, he saw he had twenty minutes and the walk to the office would take five. Fifteen minutes. He could make it that long.
Walking around the store, he kept sneaking glances at Dana as she spoke with her sister and a couple of other customers who came into the store. She was happy and light and sweet Jesus, when she laughed, it stopped him in his tracks.
Standing by the wall of yarn again, he picked up a colorful skein of it and then set it down.
“Still didn’t find anything?” He heard and he put his hands in his pockets with a sigh. He looked to his left and found Dana beside him, smiling happily. Her happiness irritated him and he remained quiet, biting back the rude response that threatened to come out.
Her smile began to falter and he hated himself again. Hated the way he was these days; hated it so much.
“That’s okay. Thank you for coming in today. Hopefully you’ll find the gift you’re seeking.” She touched his elbow and he felt it through the many layers of clothes he wore. She started to walk away and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
“How about a scarf?” he called, opening his eyes. She stopped and turned around, tilting her head to the side. “You have all this yarn, I’m sure you have some scarves or things made from them for sale.” He shrugged and she smiled, waving her arm in front of her, to his right.
“On the shelves beside the yarn. Any particular color?” She walked over to the shelves and he followed.
“Uh… I… I don’t know.”
“For your mom, you said?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s what? Sixty?” She looked him up and down and he nodded in surprise; she was spot on.
“Hmm…” She hummed as she turned and looked at the items behind her. “How about this?” She took down something in a rich red color and held it out to him. He took it and held it in his hands.
It was soft, very soft and as he ran his fingers over it, he smiled, remembering a blanket his grandmother used to have with that same softness. He used to wrap himself in that blanket when he was little, lying by the fire, warm and cozy while his mother and grandmother laughed and drank tea in the other room.
“What do you think? Will that do?” He looked up and she smiled at him. “It’s just a simple pattern, but I always feel that’s best with a scarf. Anything too busy or bulky takes away from the point of the scarf.” She took it back from him and smiled again, running her fingers over the stitches, as she held it in her hands. She looked up at him again and raised her eyebrows, asking a silent question.
“Yeah, I’ll take it,” he said with a nod.
“Perfect. I’ll wrap it up for you.” He nodded again and followed her to the register, admiring the swing of her hips in the jeans she wore.
The scarf was wrapped in lilac colored tissue paper and tied with a teal ribbon. A gold sticker with an embossed S was put onto it and then placed into a bag. He paid for it and she handed him the pale grey bag with the store's logo- two black knitting needles poking through a heart shaped ball of teal yarn, nearly identical to the ribbon she had used and the wall of yarn.
“Thank you for coming in today,” she said, smiling again and handing him his change. “I hope your mother enjoys her gift.”
“Hmm,” he hummed and nodded, looking down and then back into her eyes. “I had the time-“
“So you said,” she cut across him and he stared at her, not quite sure what to make of her. “Regardless of how or why, I am glad you stopped in today. Please come back soon. Perhaps for another gift? For your wife or girlfriend?”
“I don’t have either.”
“Pity,” she said and he watched her try not to smile. “I mean… you could’ve been back sooner if you had.”
“Yeah… well.” He picked up the bag and cleared his throat. “Thank you… goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Fox.” He nodded and turned around, saying nothing further. He walked past Missy, who stared at him the entire time, making him feel very uncomfortable.
Pushing the door open, he walked out into the cold winter air. Adjusting his coat, he looked to the right and fell in step with the other people walking. Glancing at the shop window for one last look, he saw Missy shaking her head and Dana shrugging her shoulders with a smile.
She did a double take when she saw him looking at her and she smiled happily, her blue eyes like lasers as she watched him.
“Knock that shit off, man,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re in no shape to be of any use or good to anyone. Least of all a woman like her.” He shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets, the gift she had wrapped swinging from the bag on his arm.
_______________________
“How are you feeling this week, Fox?” The counselor asked as he sat down across from her. “Anything to report? Any changes?”
“Not exactly,” he said with a heavy sigh, his hands in his pockets.
“Still feeling angry?”
“Yes,” he answered, his voice low, his jaw clenched.
“All the time?”
“No… but it comes up at inappropriate times. I… I don’t know when it will happen, but I recognize it.”
“Have you ever acted on it?”
“What? What do you mean?” he asked, looking at the counselor, feeling his heart pounding and his anger rising. “Do you mean have I ever hurt anyone? Would I ever hurt anyone? Are you serious?”
“Fox,” she said, clasping her hands and leaning forward. “I don’t mean attacking someone. I mean angry outbursts at home, or in the car, and yes, with others. It’s not just physical anger. Words, looks, tone… they can all hurt. It’s not only physical.” She stared at him, smiling softly and he felt his anger calming. He took a deep breath and nodded his head before looking down and unclenching his fists in his pockets.
“It’s… it’s like I can feel it building, especially when, as shitty as it may sound, when someone is happy or jokes around with me. As though their happiness annoys me, angers me. I don’t know why.” He shook his head.
“You’ve been through a trauma, Fox. You’ve healed physically, although I know you still have moments of pain. But the emotional and mental are often even harder. It doesn’t seem it at the time, as the physical takes all of our strength in that moment. We push it down and focus our energy elsewhere and once that becomes second… then the next step is harder because, well, we want to be better. We feel better, but we aren’t. Not really.” He nodded and sighed.
“I do feel better physically, but sometimes the pain is there.” He rubbed his chest near his shoulder where the bullet that nearly ended his life had gone through his skin. “I’m incredibly lucky to be sitting here speaking to you. To have what he…”
“Fox…” she said softly. “We’ve discussed this. What happened was not your fault. Your partner was in danger and you yourself were shot. He left you no choice.”
“I know that. I do,” he whispered, still rubbing at his chest. “I just think of all the different ways… the outcomes that could have happened if I’d done things differently. If I’d…”
“Fox…” He looked at her and she smiled softly. “It’s not your fault.” He nodded again, tears filling his eyes, which he tried to blink away, but she saw and handed him a box of tissues. Taking one, he nodded and wiped at his eyes.
Smiling again, she waited until he had gotten himself under control. When he had, he nodded and they continued the session, his heart feeling heavy despite the positive and uplifting words being spoken.
________________________
“Hey! There’s my big brother!” Samantha called with a smile as she walked up to him, putting her arms out and grabbing him in an embrace. “I’m so happy to see you, Fox.” He hugged her back and smiled, though it was forced.
“Happy to see you too, Sam,” he said, kissing her cheek as he pulled back. She put her hands on his face and looked at him, her eyes searching his and he shrugged slightly.
“Hey, you’re here. You shaved… this morning, but you shaved. You got a gift, I see. You’re here.” She smiled and patted his face before letting him go.
“I’m here,” he whispered. She tucked back her long curly brown hair and nodded, reaching for his arm.
“Mom’s already inside. It’s too cold out for her. Ready?” She squeezed his arm and he nodded, although he did not feel ready, and he cleared his throat
They stepped into the restaurant and she guided him to the table where their mother sat waiting. She smiled as she saw them and stood to her feet.
“Hello, Fox,” she said, pulling him close for a hug. He held her for a second and then pulled back. She, like Samantha, held his face in her hands, her eyes taking him in. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Not like I have anything else going on,” he said, letting out a bitter laugh. She caressed his cheeks with her thumbs and he sighed. “Sorry. Of course I would be here. Happy birthday, Mom.” He pulled back from her and handed her the bag on his arm.
“Oh, how lovely. Thank you, dear. Let’s sit. People are beginning to stare.” She set the bag on the table, the logo facing him and as the waiter came over, he found himself wondering why Dana had chosen that particular logo. What had drawn her to that one.
“Sir? Would you like a drink?”
“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head and ordering an iced tea.
Their dinner was good, the conversation light and easy, but he still found himself drifting in and out of it. Hearing updates about people he had known, left him with that angry feeling again; their lives untouched by the pain he was suffering.
“Hey, you okay?” Samantha asked, touching his back and he looked at her, breathing hard and standing quickly to his feet, knocking into the table and spilling their glasses of water.
“Fox! What are you doing?” his mother said, reaching for a napkin and looking at him sharply. He stepped away and walked outside.
He paced along the side of the restaurant, taking deep breaths, his hands clenching and unclenching. The cold air filling his lungs felt good, stinging as he breathed in.
“Fox.” He heard behind him and he closed his eyes, halting his pacing. Turning around, he opened his eyes and looked at Samantha. She was pulling her coat around her and staring at him with concerned eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“You don’t need to apologize. But I think I do.”
“What?”
“I keep pushing you. I’m sorry.”
“You’re not-”
“I am and I can see that now. Should have seen it before, but I guess I just wanted you to be okay. Wanted to have you back because… I almost lost you.” Her eyes filled with tears and he stepped toward her, pulling her close and sighing. She cried as she clung to him and he closed his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I know that…”
“No, Fox.” She pulled back and she wiped her eyes. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for. You’ve… Dad dying… and then you shot not long after… it’s been hard on all of us. I know it’s been worse on you , but I… I don’t know how to help and I thought by making you do things it would help you, but I think it’s done the opposite.”
“No. It hasn’t. It’s not anything you’ve done. I know your heart is in the right place. I’m just… I don’t know. I’m angry a lot of the time and I hate it. That’s not me.”
“No. No, it’s not.”
“The medication is helping with the depression I’m still feeling, but the anger… Sam, I can’t describe it.”
“Fox, you had to make a terrible choice and it nearly cost you your life. And your partner’s life. Of course you’re angry.” She stared at him and he nodded. “The question is what to do with that anger.”
“I know.”
“You can’t keep it bottled up and have it explode like it did tonight. I know,” she said, putting up a hand as he started to tell her that was an accident. “That was an accident and barely anything, but I’ve seen it in you and I’ve ignored it. But not anymore.” He nodded, his shoulders slumping.
“I don’t know what to do. I feel like my mind is racing, but I’m standing still. It’s… it’s like this build up that comes on fast and sometimes goes quickly, but other times, I’m angry for awhile.”
“What have you done to try and combat it?”
“I’ve… gone for a run, long walks… I’ve tried meditation… as hooky as I’ve always made it out to be. I’ve tried shooting hoops, but my arm is still a bit too stiff for that.”
“Which pisses you off.”
“Which pisses me off, yes.” They both laughed and she smiled at him. He shook his head and sighed.
“Well, we’ll have to find something that can help you calm your mind. I’m sure there are lots of creative outlets you haven’t thought of.”
“Creative?” He gave her a look and she laughed. “Can you see me sitting in a park, painting a picture?”
“Only if you’re wearing a beret,” she teased and he laughed. She linked her arm through his and pulled. “Come on. Let’s go back to the table so Mom can open her gifts. We’ll think of something that brings out the creative side in you.”
He scoffed and shook his head as they walked inside. He was not a creative person, never had been really. His own insecurities got in the way along with his father’s voice in his ear that anything involving ‘artistic ability’ was for girls.
Shaking his head again, he sighed as they walked to the table, their mother smiling with relief.
__________________
An hour and a half later, he closed his front door with a sigh. Dropping his keys on the table, he walked into the kitchen for a beer. Popping it open, he took a long pull and let out a deep breath.
God, he was exhausted and honestly, he had hardly done anything that day. Shopping, therapy, and dinner. Hardly a rough day and far easier than he’d had in the past eight years as a detective.
Sighing again, he walked out of the kitchen and into his bedroom. He set down his beer and took off his shoes, looking forward to going to bed. Reaching into his jacket pockets, he took out his wallet and cell phone.
A piece of paper was stuck down deep in the pocket and he pulled it out, finding the receipt for his mother’s scarf. He stared at it, thinking about Dana and her happy blue eyes. Eyes that had not seen or felt the pain he had.
His mother had loved the scarf, admiring the rich color and the stitching. Samantha had given him an inquisitive look, the gift not one he would normally choose. He had said only that he had gotten it in a shop as he waited for his appointment, not mentioning Dana or her sister.
Staring at the receipt, he wondered if she would be interested in hearing how his mother had liked the gift. He felt he rather owed her an apology anyway, acting like an asshole and insinuating her shop had nothing to offer. He should pay her a visit tomorrow and tell her he was sorry.
Besides, he really wanted to see her again. See her smile, her eyes lighting up as she did.
“Tomorrow,” he said, with a nod, setting the receipt down on his dresser, and beginning to change his clothes. “Tomorrow.”