Title - Fertility: Truth
Author - Jenrose
Rating - G
Classification - VA
Spoilers - Fifth season
Keywords - Scully Journal, hint of MSR
Summary - Notes from Scully's journal on the subject of her
fertility.
Happens right before A Christmas Carol, and oddly enough, ties in
very
well.
Note: I wrote this *prior* to a Christmas Carol, so
theoretically, it
shouldn't have spoilers for it. But rereading it, it sort of
does. I
haven't rewritten it at all since watching that episode. I
promise.
Disclaimer: Scully belongs to CC and GA and Fox and is obviously
not a free woman. I'm just filling in the blanks.
From Dana Scully's Journal
3 December 1997
When they told me I had cancer, I put thoughts of children out of
my
mind. The effects of radiation treatments, chemotherapy, often
rob
women of their fertility. At the time, thoughts of babies seemed
foreign. Working on the X-files, seeing so much horror, the idea
of
bearing a child, loving a child, only to have that child stolen
by
madmen or malevolent secret organizations, to die or be
tortured... I
just couldn't face the idea of loving someone, only to have them
ripped away from me as so much has already been lost.
When the cancer disappeared, so quickly, after so few of the
kinds of
treatments that normally cause the infertility, a seed of hope
nestled
deep into my unconscious mind. I didn't really think about
fertility at
all, but still, the knowledge was there that it might be
possible,
somehow, someday. I didn't need to think about it.
When the Cancer Man died, vanished, somehow the world got
brighter. The cases were still strange. Some were horrible.
Others,
simply reminded us that the universe is not as ordered as I might
want to believe. But no longer did it feel like we were spinning
down
into some obsidian vortex, away from all things light and good.
You changed too. Gone the anguish of guilt at your inability to
rescue your sister from the unknown. She had it easier than you,
we
know, in many ways. Your smile, the one thing about you that I
knew so little of, began lighting my days.
The fear seemed to dissipate like the morning fog. And not just
the
fear of the dark forces, the horrors, but our fear of each other.
The vanishing fog left us with a view of a future that looked
radiantly more wonderful than I think either of us ever would
have
believed when we were in that dark pit.
For once the mystery we were exploring was not dark, but
glorious.
And that small seed in my heart, the one that spoke of sweet
small
voices, laughing faces, and peacefully sleepless nights, began to
grow.
I'm not sure when I realized that not everything had been healed.
From menarche, when I was eleven years old, my cycles have come
like the ticking of a clock, regular, measured, completely
predictable.
An annoying, comforting rhythm of my body functioning smoothly.
When I was returned, my cycles did not return with me. After a
panicked pregnancy test came back negative, I chalked it up to
stress.
I didn't look into it further, happy enough to know that I had
not
become one of your tabloid women, impregnated by God only knew
what during my long abduction. There was certainly enough stress
that year to send my cycles scurrying away. Then with the cancer,
the treatments, the weight loss, it was expected, even a relief
that I
did not have to worry about losing blood that way.
But I'm not stressed now. In fact, I can't remember a time in the
past
four and a half years when I was as relaxed and content with life
as I
am now.
My cycles have not returned, in spite of the fact that there is
more
color in my cheeks and more fat on my bones. I suspect that
something happened, be it during my abduction, or during those
awful treatments, something that stole from me any chance of
*that*
particular dream ever coming true.
It would make sex less complicated, except that my sex life was
abducted a hell of a lot earlier than my fertility. Somehow I
feel that
this will be returned to me as well, sooner than later.
I can't face idea of more tests, not now. And so I put that seed
that
had started to grow back onto ice. At this time, there is simply
one
truth I don't want to know.