The Long Winter

an X-Files story by Setcheti

The X-Files and all related characters are owned by Chris Carter and Ten-Thirteen Productions, no copyright infringement intended. Original characters and situations are property of Setcheti and may not be used without permission.

The first snow was aimlessly spiraling out of the sky when Dana got the call she had always known would come. There's been an accident...your husband...critical condition...you should come to the hospital at once. And then, without any memory of driving to the hospital, she was there listening to the young doctor telling her that her beloved Fox was in a coma with dry, frightened eyes and a face devoid of color. The nurses looked at her with pity and then looked quickly away; she stared back, blankly, numb to the pitiful picture she was creating with Andy clinging in her arms and the bulge that was to be their second baby straining against her inadequate sweater.

Those first weeks had been the hardest. His eyes had to be taped shut. A respirator was breathing for him. He was gray-pale and covered with bruises. Every time Dana came into the room and saw him, she wanted to die. But she kept coming anyway, driving over the white highways every day to sit beside him in frightened, hopeful silence.

Eventually, the tape came off. She almost cheered when they told her he was fighting the respirator, and she rearranged her visits so she could sit with him while they weaned him off of it. The bruises faded, his color came back--to pink-pale, anyway--and he looked very deeply asleep. Which was true, in a sense. Dana adjusted. She talked to him about work, about Andy, about the baby's kicks. Sometimes, she even put his limp hand on her abdomen so he could feel the kicks for himself.

And the snow fell harder, slanting down out of a hard white sky to pack dirtily under foot and wheel alike, filling every gutter with icy gray slush.

She got used to being a single working mother. Angie had abruptly resurfaced and just as abruptly moved in to play nanny--for Andy and Dana. Dana's job at the coroner's office had flexible hours, and she could do her paperwork at home. Angie picked up the slack; she shopped, cooked, changed diapers, and did housework. She became Dana's Lamaze partner, bullied doctors and nurses when Dana was tired, and was always available to listen when Dana needed to talk. She never got upset, never got tired, and apparently never needed a day off. Angie also never ran out of money--but she never went to work, either. As time wore on Dana became curious about that, but something told her she was better off not knowing what her husband's "little sister" did for a living.

Fox didn't get better, but he didn't get worse. Dana was at the hospital when her contractions started, and she sat beside him and breathed and remembered how he had helped when Andy was born until she just couldn't stand it anymore. Amy Marie Mulder was born at 11:46 that night. Dana sent Angie to tell Fox all about his new daughter while she herself sat in bed with the baby in her arms and cried for the next two hours.

And the snow continued to fall, drifting over unbought Christmas trees and wooden Nativity scenes, turning colored lights into frosty kaleidoscopes.

Things were even busier after Amy was born, and Dana barely had time to realize how depressed she was becoming. She still visited Fox every day, usually taking the baby with her and sometimes Andy as well. Days passed into weeks passed into months; soft snow and white skies turned into gray skies and hard, cold rain. Amy went from bald and blue-eyed to red haired and brown eyes by her third month. Everyone said she looked just like Fox, and Dana cried herself to sleep at night because he would never see it for himself. She had given up hope of ever getting him back. She didn't confide her feelings to anyone, but Angie noticed and began treating her with more care than ever, as did her mother and the hospital staff. Dana didn't notice; she was oblivious to everything except for Andy and Amy...and Fox.

She sat in her familiar chair, the comfortable one that the nurses had brought in for her after Amy was born, and she watched the slow drizzle of rain outside the window while Andy played with toys on the floor and Amy tried to chew on her father's plastic hospital identification bracelet. "I think she's trying to cut teeth," Dana told him absently. "She's gotten as bad as a puppy about chewing on everything...Andy was never this bad. Angie made her some teething biscuits yesterday, and she just gums them to death. I tried one of them and almost broke a tooth! But Angie says they're supposed to be like that. I wonder what she does for a living..."

Amy giggled, and Dana looked down at her with a smile. "March 14, 3:22 p.m., first giggle," she said. Amy cooed and tried to bite the bracelet again, but it moved away. She went after it, grunting, and captured it only to have it move away again. Amy howled, and Dana laughed. "Maybe Daddy is just tired of having you bite him, Baby."

Fox whispered, "Yes, he is."

Dana froze. The hand movement hadn't registered on her; she had gone through the usual stage of seeing false movement months ago and had given up on ever seeing the real thing. Suddenly her heartbeat sounded very loud. "F..Fox?" she stammered. She was hearing things, she must be, he was never...

"Dana?" His voice was very weak, but very real. Slowly, the brown eyes opened and blinked, trying to focus without much success. "I dreamed about our baby. A girl. She was biting me."

Dana opened her mouth, but her voice was stuck somewhere down in her chest and only a sob came out. She slowly lifted Amy into his line of vision. It's all a dream, she thought, it must be a dream.

Amy fussed and giggled, the dim gray light shining on her red curls. Her brown eyes looked into his, and Fox suddenly forgot how to breathe. Behind the baby...their baby?...Dana was thin again, much too thin and pale, and she was crying. He found that he was crying too, but he wasn't sure just why. "Dana?"

"Oh Fox," she whispered. She put Amy on the floor near her brother, then put her head down on the blanket and sobbed out his name, over and over again.

Confused, Fox started to stroke her hair; when he felt how hard she was shaking, every instinct he had told him that something was seriously wrong with his wife. He fumbled at the call button, wondering absently why his body seemed so unresponsive. He couldn't quite seem to sit up, so he contented himself by stroking her hair again and praying that the nurse wasn't on a coffee break.

The nurse appeared quickly enough, then astonished him by simply standing in the doorway with her mouth open. Inexperienced, he thought angrily. He summoned up the best authoritative voice he could manage and barked at her, "Don't just stand there; go get someone who can help my wife--and call her mother to come get our children." The nurse disappeared and he stared up at the ceiling, his mind whirling. "Our children," he repeated. "I wonder..." The door flew open, and he frowned at the out-of-breath doctor. "Hey, there are children on the floor; be more careful! I think my wife needs help, maybe a sedative..."

The doctor recovered himself and nodded. "Understandably," he replied. "Helen, pick that baby up before she chews the wheels off the bed and then go call Angie." The nurse lifted Amy off the floor and left; the doctor came closer, but he wasn't looking at Dana. "Mr. Mulder, how do you feel?"

Fox almost exploded. "What kind of place is this! There is something wrong with my wife; I want you to do something for her...why are you looking at me like that? You either help Dana or I'll..."

"Mr. Mulder," the doctor interrupted, smiling, "the only thing wrong with your wife is you." He scooped Andy up off the floor and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at Fox with amusement. "Dana has been very brave through all of this, and I think that she has earned the right to break down--I would have been more worried if she hadn't. But you...Fox, what is the last thing you remember?"

Fox felt a chill run down his spine. Andy looked so big, and the baby..."I remember chasing the kidnapper...out, onto the balcony...and he slipped. I tried to pull him back up...and...and..." The tears started again as he realized with horror what must have happened after he was pulled over the railing, after he fell into the empty pool below. "Oh God," he murmured softly. "Oh, Dana, I'm so sorry..." He looked back at the doctor and swallowed hard. "How...how long?"

"About four months," the doctor said matter-of-factly. "And since you're awake and talking, I'd say that no permanent damage was done."

"Not to me..."

"Not to her, either, Fox," the doctor assured him gently. "She's been here every day; she went into labor right here in this room, and she's brought Amy in to see you almost every day since then. I won't say that it hasn't been hard on her, but we've all been keeping a very close eye on Dana for you, Fox. Your sister will be here soon, and I'm sure she'll tell you the same thing."

Mulder's eyes got very large. "Samantha?"

The doctor's smile widened. "No, but now I owe Angie five bucks--she warned me not to forget to tell you which sister. She moved in with Dana, by the way, within a few days after your accident." He paused, but gave in to the question in the other man's eyes. "According to what the police told me, the man who tried to kill you lost his grip when he pulled you over. He actually ended up saving your life, Fox; he broke your fall."

"Forgive me for being less than grateful."

"No need, but you might be glad to know that he is serving the maximum sentence for his crimes--in Hell." Fox raised an eyebrow, and the doctor shrugged. "I was raised Catholic; I remember the nuns always being very clear about such things."

"So do I." Dana raised her head and looked at her husband with tear-swollen eyes. She squeezed his hand, jumping a little when he squeezed back. "I'm the one who's sorry. I gave up..."

"But he said you were here every day," Fox said, puzzled. "I don't understand."

She shook her head, avoiding his eye. "I came, but I didn't believe you would ever...wake up."

It was his turn to smile. "You came anyway. You brought our...children. Our baby."

"Her name is Amy," Dana told him. "Amy Marie Mulder. So you couldn't hear me? You didn't know I was here?"

"He didn't know he was gone, Dana," the doctor corrected. "But he'll know you're gone, within the hour. I've sent for Angie to come get you and the children, and I'll be giving her a prescription that I want you to take as soon as you get home, something which you are not getting out of this time." He raised a hand to stifle her objection. "Fox will not be going anywhere, Dana. You, on the other hand, will be going into a hospital bed of your own if you do not do what we tell you and get some rest. And I have your husband to back me up this time; he actually yelled at me for not taking care of you. Fox?"

Fox nodded, fighting to keep his eyes open and his mind from wandering. I'm falling asleep, he thought, and felt a bolt of fear shoot through him "Doctor...?"

"Reynolds," the doctor supplied. He handed Andy over to his mother and leaned over his patient. "Tired? Do you feel any pain anywhere?"

"Yes...no...can you give me something? So I won't go to sleep; I can't go to sleep, not yet..."

Doctor Reynolds shined a small penlight into each of his eyes and then checked his pulse. "You'll have to get used to it, Fox," he said. "You're going to tire easily for a while, and you'll be sleeping a lot. I know it's frightening to you right now, but I swear to you that no one has ever fallen back into a coma because they were tired. You will wake up tomorrow morning, and every morning after that for the rest of your life, I promise. Now, I want you to stop talking and close your eyes. I'll let Dana stay with you until you fall asleep." He retrieved Andy and quietly left the room.

Dana took her husband's hand again and tried to scold him. "Do what you're told," she said. "Go on, close your eyes."

Fox just looked at her. Then, with an effort, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I'm afraid to. I feel like I need to keep looking at you, to make up for all the time...four months. I love you, Dana."

Dana choked, feeling the tears well up again. "I know," she whispered. "So don't be afraid; I'm here with you, and I'll be here every night when you go to sleep and every morning when you wake up. Now close your eyes." And as she had done once before, during that terrible experience they'd had in the North Sea when he'd been too afraid of dying to let himself sleep, Dana placed a gentle hand over his brown eyes and closed them. "I love you, too, Fox. And I'm glad to have you back."

An errant ray of sunlight cut through the clouds outside and briefly made the gray raindrops sparkle with joy, just like the tears on Dana's cheeks. Her long winter was finally over.

Fin