From: susanf34@comcast.net   
      
   *NO ARCHIVE*   
      
      
      
   Title: Chronology   
   Author: Susan   
   E-mail: susanf34@comcast.net   
   Classification: story   
   Rating: PG   
   Keywords: love, angst, and everything in between   
   Pairings: Mulder/Scully romance,   
             Scully/Skinner friendship   
   Spoilers: the entire series through season eight,   
   but it starts shortly after Requiem   
   Archive: No archive without permission.   
   Disclaimer: On paper, these characters aren't mine.   
   In my head, they are.   
      
   Author's notes at the end.   
      
   Summary: His abduction. Her pregnancy. His   
   words. Her survival.   
   ********************************************************   
      
   Chronology   
   by Susan   
   ~~~~   
      
   chapter one   
      
      
   Mulder's apartment   
   1:06 am   
      
      
   It was dark when she entered the room for the first   
   time.   
      
   Not that she was expecting there to be any kind   
   of light in there in the middle of the night, but   
   still, she was struck by just how dark it was in   
   his bedroom.   
      
   Or maybe it was her heart that was dark right now.   
      
   Four days ago, she spent the night in this room,   
   and now the man she shared it with was gone.   
      
   The man who loved and respected her, who made her   
   laugh and made her think, and who trusted her with   
   his life.   
      
   The man whose baby she was now carrying inside of   
   her.   
      
   Why shouldn't she feel only darkness now?   
      
   Everything she loved, everything she treasured,   
   everything that made her the woman she was now   
   had been taken away from her two nights ago,   
   stolen from the Oregon woods while she'd been   
   thousands of miles away.   
      
   And she'd been completely powerless to do anything   
   to stop it.   
      
   Yes, it was dark in this room tonight and even   
   darker in her heart, and so she did the only   
   thing she could right now.   
      
   She crawled into his bed and cried.   
      
   ~~~~   
      
   When she opened her eyes, the sun was streaming   
   through the slats in the blinds, and the sheets   
   on his bed were twisted around her legs.   
      
   She blinked several times and tried to focus on   
   the clock, but her eyes were dry and puffy from   
   all the crying she'd done during the night. Using   
   the palms of her hands, she rubbed them for a few   
   seconds, then looked over at the clock again.   
      
   9:03 a.m.   
      
   Two hours later than when she usually showed up   
   at the office.   
      
   If Mulder were here, he would've already called   
   her by now, asked her if she was okay, then   
   proceeded to explain what their next case was   
   over the phone because he just couldn't wait to   
   tell her about it in person.   
      
   And she would've patiently listened to him, all   
   the while raising her eyebrow and wishing he would   
   stop talking for two seconds so she could hang up   
   and get ready to actually come into the office.   
      
   And after she did hang up, she would've smiled at   
   what just happened between them because hearing   
   him rattle off facts about a case like that is   
   what he did and listening to him is what she did.   
      
   But there wasn't going to be a phone call from   
   him this morning, and she wasn't going to hear   
   his voice, or see his face, or feel his arms   
   around her.   
      
   He was gone now.   
      
   Taken up into the sky by a force greater than both   
   of them and brought to a place she didn't want to   
   think about.   
      
   And she was here now.   
      
   Left alone to deal with something she never expected   
   to happen and desperately trying to understand why.   
      
   Why would God take away someone she loved, then   
   give her a miracle?   
      
   Rubbing her eyes again, then standing up from the   
   bed, she started to walk to the bathroom.   
      
   And then she felt it.   
      
   The churning in her abdomen, the light-headedness,   
   the dry mouth, and the impending realization that   
   she was about to lose everything that was in her   
   stomach.   
      
   Hurrying to the bathroom, she quickly lifted the   
   toilet seat lid, then dropped to her knees just   
   in time. Unfortunately the sour taste left in   
   her mouth afterwards made her stomach churn even   
   faster, and before she knew it, her chest was   
   heaving again, trying to expel even more.   
      
   But this time there was nothing left for her to   
   lose and nothing left for her to feel.   
      
   Except the cold hard realization that Mulder   
   wasn't here.   
      
   And their baby was.   
      
   Blinking back her tears, she lifted herself up   
   off the floor and moved over to the sink, then   
   splashed some water on her face.   
      
   Was this what it was going to be like for the   
   next several months?   
      
   She hoped not.   
      
   Then again, she knew that a lot of women were   
   nauseous during the first trimester of their   
   pregnancy and perfectly fine the other six   
   months.   
      
   But would she be one of them?   
      
   How could she deal with morning sickness and   
   deal with finding Mulder at the same time?   
      
   She had no idea.   
      
   All she knew was that no matter how difficult it   
   was, no matter how dangerous, she'd do whatever   
   it took to find him.   
      
   She had to.   
      
   And she had to get started as soon as possible.   
      
   Leaning over the sink, her face still wet, she   
   quickly reached for a towel, only to discover   
   that there wasn't one on the rack.   
      
   Water dripping from her face down into her blouse,   
   she opened the cabinet above the toilet but there   
   weren't any towels in there either. "Come on,   
   Mulder, where do you keep the damn towels," she   
   muttered to herself, wiping her wet face with her   
   sleeve as she left the bathroom and moved towards   
   his closet.   
      
   Once inside, she scanned the shelves above his   
   suits and finally found what she was looking for.   
      
   'Leave it to Mulder to store his clean towels in   
   the closet when most people keep them in their   
   bathroom,' she thought as she took one down from   
   the shelf and wiped her face and neck off.   
      
   After drying herself off and straightening out her   
   blouse, it suddenly dawned on her that she'd never   
   really been in his closet before.  Surprisingly,   
   it was quite roomy for an apartment closet and not   
   only had two places to hang his clothes, but it   
   also had several built-in shelves, and a space big   
   enough for him to actually put a large file cabinet.   
      
   'Leave it to you to cram a cabinet full of files   
   in here too,' she thought as she walked over to it.   
      
   The next thing she knew, her hand was pulling open   
   the top drawer, and taking out one of the notebooks   
   that was inside, and though she didn't know why she   
   had suddenly decided to invade his privacy like this,   
   she somehow knew that she was doing exactly what she   
   was supposed to be doing.   
      
   She could feel it.   
      
   And she could feel *him*.   
      
   The queasiness she'd felt earlier was already gone,   
   but now her heart was racing and her hands were   
   shaking as she looked down and read the dates he'd   
   written on the cover:   
      
   March 6, 1992 - August 26, 1993   
      
   Immediately recognizing the significance of the   
   beginning date, her mouth dropped open and her   
   eyes widened as she read his words again.   
      
   Was this book his own personal record of the case   
   files they'd worked on together during that time?   
   Or had he been keeping notes on her since the very   
   beginning?   
      
   It was obviously something private if he'd kept it   
   hidden in his closet all these years, but she had   
   to know.   
      
   Taking a deep breath, she opened the cover and   
   looked at the familiar handwriting inside.   
      
      
   XXXXXXXXXXXX   
   3/6/92   
      
   I can't believe I'm doing this, but I've started   
   a journal.   
      
   I'm not sure why I feel the need to, and I'm not   
   even sure I'm going to write much of anything in   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
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