From: macspooky@erols.com (Macspooky) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Generations: Contrasts by Macspooky Chapter 1 No Part No. Date: 2 Aug 1995 08:58:15 -0400 Hi. This one can fit in anywhere or stand alone. It deals with the past, the birth of Fox Mulder and Dana's older brother Bill Jr. Hi from Macspooky. I've gotten over my writers block and decided to do a short piece that can either be part of my "Generations" series or can stand alone. I've been wanting to do a piece on Bill Mulder as Fox is growing up and decided that this might be a good place to start. In my experience, and I have a great deal, little boys are the world's sweetest creatures especially around the age of three when the tantrums of the "terrible twos" are over. A lot of "macho" guys misconstrue this and fear that their sons will grow up to be sissies, usually because their own fathers lacked understanding. Bill Mulder is such a man in my story. Bill Scully is a lot like the father of my own sons. They are not sissies, but young people of many accomplishments. I'm going to rate this one PG13. Thanks again to CC, Fox and 1013 for giving me such interesting and enigmatic characters to borrow. Noinfringement is intended. By the way, the carburetor trick herein described stood me in good stead for many many years. When I had to start blowing the flames out of the engine, we "traded the car in." It was duly hauled away to the dump. I DO NOT recommend that anyone reading this story try it however. It isn't the safest thing for you to be doing. Contrasts - The Birth of Two Sons (Chapter 1) by Macspooky Margaret Scully woke up in the middle of the night feeling as though her bladder would burst. Of course, it had been feeling that way for nearly nine months now, since it had been nine months to the day since she and Bill had been married at Annapolis, surrounded by family, the day after Bill had graduated the Naval Academy. It had been a joyous wedding, a joyous conception, filled with love and laughter. The pressure felt more intense than usual, however, and she got up and raced for the bathroom. "Bill," she said upon her return. "Bill...." He woke up groggily. He had gotten back from his first tour of duty only the day before to find Meg as big as a house. Of course that hadn't stopped them from making love until neither of them could move. His 19 year old wife could be very creative that way, but he was exhausted, exhausted and relieved. "Bill, I'm in labor," she said. "It's almost time for the hospital." "What?" he asked dumbly. "My waters just broke and I'm having contractions. We have to go to the hospital soon." "Oh....Oh yeah, Meg....right hospital...baby....okay...." he bounced up, stubbed his toe and let out a chain of invectives. "Okay, okay..." she laughed. "You can have coffee first, or you'll never make it." If Meg was scared, it didn't show. Her philosophy was that women had been having babies for millions of years, and if you believed all the horror stories you were told while you were pregnant, you'd know that there could be no human race. Besides, her Mom had been a mid-wife in her younger days in Ireland, and her own attitude towards birth was very relaxed and accepting. " Of a certainty , it hurts luv, but you get something wonderful in the end, and what's a little pain for the joy of holding a wee little person in your arms, and knowing you'd made something lovely with the man you adore," she had always told her children. Meg went off to the kitchen and perked coffee. Bill wasn't quite as relaxed about it. Meg had been really sick in the beginning, and he was worried. Still, knowing himself, he wasn't much good without coffee, so he tossed ice cubes in the mug she had handed him to cool it and gulped it down, as she sat there laughing at his bumbling attempts to be calm and collected. Then, away they went to the hospital, it taking only the dismantling of the carburetor and an insertion of a pencil to open the air valve while Meg stepped on the gas to start the car. He was such a wreck, she'd had to screw the carburetor back together. He was going to be daddy! He couldn't wait. Ruth Mulder couldn't sleep. As the time approached for her to deliver, she grew more and more nervous and restive. It was going to hurt. She knew it was going to hurt terribly. Her mother never failed to remind her about how miserable her own birth had been, how it had torn her apart. She had warned Ruth to stay away from men constantly. But Ruth had wanted to marry Bill Mulder so badly, and the only way to get his parent's permission had been for her to conceive a child. They had wanted him to marry his third cousin and keep the money in the family, but he hadn't wanted his cousin. He had wanted her, and so they had defied the family, and now she would give birth. His family hated her for it. They had even tried to say the baby wasn't his. She looked at her sleeping husband wondering if she dared wake him. He was so handsome. Sometimes he was the most kind and loving person, but other times he was cold and hard, dealing with secret things, doing important work for the government that she never dared ask about. He loved her. She knew that. But sometimes.. well, .everything had to be just right for Bill, all the time, or he would withdraw his love from her. She felt the first pain. It was sharp and made her cry out. "Time them...Time them," she reminded herself miserably. Then, wake up Bill, and let him take charge. He always took charge. No matter what, he was good at that. Ensign Scully drove Meg to the base hospital. They cranked out Navy babies at an incredible rate there. It was chaos. He didn't want to leave her, didn't think it was fair that he couldn't stay with her until the pain got really bad. It was a stupid system that separated husbands and wives just when the most important event of their life was about to happen. Meg sensed his reluctance. "Hey," she said with a smile. "Let's sit in the car awhile like we used to do before we got married. We'll be together, and when the end gets really near, we'll just pop in the door and let them catch the baby." "But suppose something goes wrong, Meg?" he asked. "We are in the parking lot, and the emergency entrance it right there." She slipped her arms around his neck. "I wish mom was here. I'd have the baby at home." "God, I love you, Meg," he said softly. He kissed her and they sat together for a long time, with him rubbing her distended abdomen lovingly until Meg felt the pressure between her legs grow unbearable and knew she couldn't wait any longer. Ruth woke Bill up. She knew she really was in labor and it couldn't be helped. Rather than the tender reaction she'd hoped for, however, he had sighed with annoyance and said, "Picked a great time Ruth...I have to go to Washington for an important meeting in the morning..." "But Bill....you promised you'd be here....you promised,." she said, suddenly terrified that he wouldn't be around to take charge and tell her what to do. "Well, let's hope it doesn't take too long." He softened a little. She was very young, younger than him and couldn't help it, he supposed. It was alright to be weak when you were a woman. Women didn't need to be men. "It's okay, Ruth." He ruffled her hair just a little. "Not your fault." She felt a sense of relief. Sometimes the coldness in Bill really hurt, and she hated it when he was that way. .She shoved the thought away. They would have their little girl and be a family. That was the one thing Bill was adamant about...wanting a little girl. Unlike most men, the idea of a son didn't seem to appeal to him at all...They hadn't even picked a boy's name. She supposed she understood why. Bill's dad was a mean man, not a warm bone in his body. His dad always said you had to be that way with boys, or they wouldn't grow up to be men. They would become sissies, who couldn't take care of their families, or defend their women, or their country. Ruth didn't know. She had lost her father as a young girl and had no brothers. She supposed he was right. Men were different. All the way to the expensive private clinic, Ruth worried. She was really afraid of the pain. "Do you think they will put me right to sleep?" she asked, wanting nothing to do with this process. "With the money my father donates to the place, they will do whatever I ask," he snapped. "Now stop worrying Ruth." "Okay. I'm glad you are here, Bill. Having a little girl is going to be so sweet." At that he turned and gave her a little smile. "Might be worth the trouble if she looks like you." Bill Mulder was convinced they would have a girl. In his past, he had always gotten what he had wanted one way or the other, including Ruth. There was no reason to suspect that it should be different this time. "I don't want any anesthesia," said Meg, "and if you try to put that mask on my face, I'll bite your hand off." She glared. "This is highly irregular...." "No, it's highly natural. I'm not sick. I'm pregnant...." Bill sat in the waiting room with the other expectant dads. It was like a male club. They all looked nervous. He was nervous too. He wished Meg's mom was here, or his own mother, who lived in California, or even his Dad, so he could talk to him about what it had been like when he had been born. Meg let out a yelp. "Will one of you fools get down the end of the bed and catch the baby....Oh no, I am not going to stop pushing....It's coming....it's coming now!" Before anyone could comment on how the doctor wasn't there, there was a baby between her legs, pink and beautiful, and screaming at the indignity at having been pushed into the cold world and bright light. Meg reached down, pulled her baby up close and held him. He was a mess, but for a moment, she wouldn't surrender him. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Finally, they took him away. There was only so far you could violate procedure and get away with it, and besides, she was feeling tired now, tired and happy. She knew her son was healthy and okay. The only thing wrong was that Bill hadn't been there to witness the birth. Bill picked up a magazine, but almost before he could begin reading a nurse approached him. "Ensign Scully, you have a son. Come with me, and we'll hold him up to the glass for you to see." "A boy?" He grinned from ear to ear. "Is my wife okay?" "Your wife is a handful, but she's fine," said the nurse with mock disapproval. "Refused to follow procedure....no anesthesia....but between you me and the wall," added the woman, " I think she was right. That's unofficial." Bill stared through the glass. "When can I hold him?" he asked eyeing the little creature, who seemed to look a great deal like him. It was incredible. He could hardly believe he'd done it, made this precious little human being in an act of love with his Meg. He was filled with joy that God had been so good to him. He couldn't wait until they could go home and be a family, a real family. "Not until he comes home, Mr. Scully." said the nurse. "Now we need to put him back. You can see your wife briefly, but then you'd best go home and get some rest." "But I didn't do anything,." he said, wondering why they always seemed to think the father needed to be out of the way and resting. He thought with amusement that he really hadn't done anything since their wedding night. The man's part in the birth was severely limited. What a night that had been, so filled with joy. Meg hade been shy and a little afraid, thinking that because he was older and had been in the Academy, he'd had all the experience she lacked, when in reality he had been as inexperienced as she was. It was only when he had been able to swallow his pride and admit it ,that things had gotten great. They had muddled along together and had a wonderful passion filled, tender night and created a new human being. He and Meg would always get along somehow together he knew. He couldn't understand why anyone would want anything else out of life except family. A career was important. A man had to support his family, but in the end the family was all that mattered, his Meg, his little Bill and maybe the baby daughter they'd have in the future. =========================================================================== From: macspooky@erols.com (Macspooky) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Generations: Contrasts, Macspooky Chap. 2 Date: 2 Aug 1995 08:58:17 -0400 Here is Chapter 2, I sincerely hope! Here is Chapter 2 of Contrasts. All above disclaimers still apply They pumped her with medication, and she sank into grateful oblivion. She had begged and begged, didn't want to feel any pain, just wanted to wake up and have her baby daughter wrapped in a pink blanket, looking pretty and smelling like baby lotion. She didn't want to be scared. If she was knocked out, she wouldn't have to be scared. It wouldn't be real. Bill Mulder paced the waiting room and looked at his watch. This was taking forever. He grew annoyed. What did they need him for anyway? It was a woman's thing. He couldn't have the baby. He had done his part that night in the back of the car. Poor Ruth. He had tried to be kind. He adored her. She was such a timid little thing, and she needed him to be in charge, and he hadn't meant to hurt her. He knew he had though. He'd had enough women to know when they were enjoying themselves, and Ruth hadn't been. She'd whimpered and shook and hadn't liked it at all. It had been better since then, somewhat, but never really what he hoped. Still, it was good to be needed, and there was a woman in DC who he could have his fun with. Ruth was a good wife, did what she was told, knew when not to ask questions. She wasn't brilliant, but could throw a nice dinner party when political expediency demanded it. He looked at his watch again. He made a phone call. "Yes," he said. "I know it's important, but my wife is in labor, and it's going to look suspicious if I leave. Anyway, they aren't going anywhere are they? So tomorrow is soon enough...." He hung up the phone. "Idiots," he thought. "The merchandise wasn't leaving. The merchandise never went anywhere unless they were sent." This baby business was something of a nuisance, but career wise it looked better if he had a family, and he sure as heck hadn't wanted to marry his cousin, who wouldn't have had the sense to shut up like Ruth and let him be the man of the house. He probably would have had to knock her around to keep her in line, and he didn't like the thought of hitting women particularly. All you needed to do with Ruth was look at her, and she behaved. That was an important characteristic in a female and made his life simpler. She needed him and appreciated his affection. Bill Scully was a happy man. He was going to bring Meg home. Everything was ready. He and the" boys" had set up the second hand crib that Meg had found at a garage sale. Meg's women friends, and she had many with her sunny disposition, had come and decorated the used bassinet she had squeezed the money for from her salary working part time in the five and dime for a few months. They had made sure that all the tiny clothes that Meg had so carefully purchased from thrift stores were washed and pressed and put in the changing table, the one that had been his, that his parents had given them. He had found a used rocking chair on a trash pile, and with the help of a friend, had repaired and refinished it in white, so it looked like new. She had gotten some stencils from the Woolworth's before she had quit, and they had made it look as though it belonged in a nursery even though they only had one tiny bedroom. "They could pretend," she had told him happily, "that they had a real room for the baby, just like rich people." How she'd loved it, that broken down rocker! Shehad promised him to turn it into an heirloom and never throw it away. Thinking how crowded the apartment was, and how it had suddenly turned into a mountain of cloth diapers, Bill got in his old car that was coughing alarmingly and went to get his wife, thrilled that he would finally get to hold his infant son. Bill Mulder looked at the little boy. It looked battered and ugly, with lots of dark greasy looking hair. It's eyes opened. Ruth stood next to him, leaning on him. She had wanted to come to the window with him to look at the child, instead of staying in bed where she belonged. He'd let her because she cried and couldn't seem to stop. He heard new mother's did that so, he had indulged her. "I'm sorry, Bill," she said softly. "I didn't mean to have a boy....I wanted a girl too..." "Can't be helped, Ruth. I'll have to do what I have to do to see he becomes a man." "You aren't mad at me, Bill? I couldn't stand it if you were mad at me?" "Not mad at you ,Ruth." "What will we call him?" "I don't know. He has beady eyes....looks sly... I guess we'll just call him Fox," he said, "I have to go Ruth. I'll be back in a few days to take you home." Meg Scully entered the small apartment, feeling as though she'd been released from prison, eager to bath and play with her new baby and nurse him whenever he needed to be nursed. She'd hated the hospital, hated knowing little Bill was in the nursery screaming until his four hours were up and her breasts felt like they were ready to burst. It was unnatural not to feed an infant when it was hungry, and she had been sick of arguing with the staff, who insisted that bottles were better. She had cried and cried over everything there, unable to stop herself. She looked around, and her eyes lit on a beautiful baby carriage sitting in the middle of the room, one of those fancy Italian ones. It had a big blue ribbon on it and a card attached. "I'm sorry it isn't brand new, Meg, like the one you used to look at in the baby store. I know how much you wanted one. I couldn't quite manage that. A lady who came from New York City was selling this one for not very much this week, and....." "Oh, Bill. It's beautiful. It's the most beautiful baby carriage there is." She slipped her free arm around him. "We'll have a big family and use this carriage for all the kids and maybe even the grandchildren....I love you so much, I could burst...." "Thought you just did ,Meg." he grinned, "and out popped Mr. Baldy here. Now you sit down, and let me hold my son. .I've been dying to get my hands on him for a week." Bill took the baby and counted fingers and toes and gave him back only reluctantly ,when he announced that he was hungry ,and "sorry dad, but you are just no good in that department." Bill Mulder pulled up in front of the house. A full time nurse in uniform came and took the baby from Ruth's arms, relieving him of the need to hold the child as he helped her out of the car. "Oh, what a pretty little boy., she cooed. "Look at that hair. I've never seen so much hair on a wee lad." "Help my wife in, please," he said coolly. "I've got to go to Washington." He gave Ruth a peck on the cheek. "I'll be back next week sometime. You can keep the nurse until then." "Thank you, Bill," she said wishing he would stay, but knowing better than to ask. "Well, the baby was kind of pretty ,and she would spend her time cuddling and playing with him," she thought. She was growing fond of the boy inspite of his sex. It would be okay. And she was fortunate. Bill had hired a nurse for her, and she could recover and rest. Not every woman was married to a man who would care enough to do that, she supposed. Tiredly she followed the nurse into their large comfortable house in Chilmark. At least she had the satisfaction of knowing that her boy would have the best of everything, everything new and top quality. The nursery was beautiful, everything carefully matched and perfect. Somewhere there was some poor woman who had to make do with everything second hand, and might even have to breast feed her infant because she couldn't afford formula. Ruth shuddered at the thought. She was a lucky woman. She would never have problems like that. The End Note: Lest you judge Ruth too harshly, at the time of Fox Mulder's birth in 1960, hers would have been the prevailing attitude. Most babies were delivered under general anesthesia. Infants were kept on strict feeding schedules, and doctors swore they knew more about infant nutrition than mother nature, so breast feeding was rare and not at all encouraged. Even as late as 1977 when my first child was born in New York City, I was hard pressed to find a Lamaze class.