Mulder knows he’s sulking a bit, but he also feels that anyone in his position would be entitled to do so. He had walked into the woods on that ill fated day, leaving behind the woman he loved to chase proof of his life’s work. He had come back with nothing but pain.
A sharp knock on his door.
He opens it without checking the peephole, half hoping someone kills him. Again.
No such luck. It’s just Frohike.
“I’m busy, Frohike,” Mulder says, although he walks away from the door without closing it. Frohike follows him into his living room.
Mulder flops back down on his couch, staring at the ceiling, looking forlorn.
“Look, I know you’re depressed, and you have every reason to be,” Frohike begins.
“And yet you’re going to try to talk me out of it,” Mulder complains.
“No, I’m here to give you some perspective. And this,” Frohike says, handing Mulder a business card.
Mulder takes the card and gives it a cursory glance.
DSUAS - Thursdays 8:00 PM - Sacred Heart Church
“What the hell is this?” Mulder asks, irritated at nothing and everything all at once.
“It’s a sort of support group,” Frohike tells him. “You might be surprised to discover that you can learn something from the people there.”
“Oh, is it for people who were buried alive for three months?” Mulder asks with faux enthusiasm.
“I expect to see you there,” Frohike says, heading towards the door. “I’m serious, Mulder. You need to hear what they have to say.”
Mulder flips the card on the table and goes back to wondering what he’s done to deserve his sad, pathetic excuse for a life.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
It’s 8:00 PM on Thursday, and Mulder follows the signs at Sacred Heart Catholic Church to the basem*nt. A piece of copy paper with “DSUAS” is on a meeting room door.
Nothing prepares him for the group in this room.
Frohike isn’t the only person he knows here. He knows everyone.
“Agent Mulder, I’m surprised to see you here,” John Doggett says, standing to shake his hand.
“I invited him,” Frohike announces. “He needs to hear what it’s like on the other side.”
Mulder gapes at the people sitting in a circle of folding chairs. Is that Alex Krycek?
Mulder immediately moves to punch him in his face, which is his normal response to seeing Krycek. This time the feeling is even stronger since Krycek was the one to lead him to the ship, effectively ruining his life.
“Whoa, easy Mulder,” Walter Skinner says, holding Mulder back from attacking Krycek. “This meeting is a neutral zone. We don’t hold anything against each other in here. We just listen and support one another. We never speak of it outside of this room.”
Mulder calms down, his confusion replacing his anger. He scans the faces around the room. Conspicuously, Scully is not among them.
“What is this?” Mulder demands, looking to Frohike for answers. “What is DSUAS?”
“It’s the Dana Scully Unrequited Affection Society,” Monica Reyes tells him with compassion in her voice, leading him to a seat next to her. “It’s a group for those of us who—“
“The Dana Scully Unrequited Affection Society?” Mulder cannot believe this is a real thing. This cannot be happening. This is a very strange, elaborate joke.
“Where’s the hidden camera?” He jokes, looking around at their serious faces. “Is this some sort of intervention?”
“It’s very real,” says a young man, the only one who Mulder doesn’t recognize.
“Who are you?” Mulder asks, still in disbelief.
“Oh, I’m Jeff, her regular pizza guy,” Jeff says. “She’s been ordering a lot of pizza lately, and I, uh, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her.”
Mulder doesn’t have a response for that. He turns back to Krycek.
“And Krycek, I’m supposed to believe that you have feelings for Scully? You don’t even interact with Scully. I think you’ve said two words to Scully since we’ve known you.”
Mulder suddenly remembers that he doesn’t know what has happened in the last six months. Who knows? Maybe Alex Krycek is the father of Scully’s baby.
“First of all, I’m attracted to almost everyone,” Krycek defends. “I used to attend a support group for you too, Mulder, but we disbanded after your funeral.”
Mulder is stunned.
“Secondly,” Krycek continues. “I’ve been assigned surveillance detail for Scully on and off over the years, and you try watching her non-stop for hours without falling in love. It can’t be done. The woman is adorable.”
The others mumble their agreement.
“Now that you understand what we’re doing here, I’d like you to just listen for the rest of the meeting,” Frohike says directly to Mulder. “We all held back during our first meetings.”
Mulder couldn’t speak if he tried.
“Okay, who wants to begin?” Frohike asks.
“I can go,” John Doggett announces.
Mulder gives him a death glare.
“Hi, I’m John, it’s been six months since I’ve known Dana Scully and about five months and twenty-eight days since I first felt affection for her.”
“Hi John,” everyone but Mulder replies in unison.
“Today was a difficult day,” Doggett explains. “I walked in on her crying at the office desk again. It was excruciating. I wanted to just hold her, you know? But I knew she didn’t want that, so I pretended that I hadn’t noticed she’d been crying.”
A few people begin clapping.
“That shows so much strength, John,” Monica Reyes encourages. “I probably would have hugged her.”
“Thanks Monica,” he says, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“That reminds me, Mulder,” Frohike says. “For obvious reasons, Monica is the only group member who is allowed to share detailed fantasies about Scully. I bet she would be willing to share one now.”
Monica is about to speak, but Mulder quickly interrupts.
“Uh, no, that’s not necessary,” he insists. “Thanks anyway, Monica.”
She nods in understanding.
There’s a little knock on the door, and to Mulder’s shock and horror, the Cigarette Smoking Man himself peeks his head into the room.
“I’m not too late, am I?” C.G.B. Spender asks.
“No, Carl, come on in,” Frohike instructs.
“Okay, this is too much,” Mulder says, his voice raising in anger. “This guy doesn’t deserve to even say her name, let alone pretend to have affection for her.”
Carl takes a drag of his cigarette, in direct violation of several No Smoking signs.
“But I do have affection for her,” he states. “I have affection for you too. That’s why I didn’t kill her after our little roadtrip.”
Skinner has to hold Mulder back again as he attempts to lunge at his father/tormentor.
“Mulder, we accept everyone here,” Skinner reminds him.
“And why exactly are you here, Skinner?” Mulder asks Skinner, shaking him off.
“I think you know the answer to that,” Skinner says with dignity.
Mulder wants to scream. Does everyone he’s ever met want to sleep with Scully?
“You all do realize she’s super pregnant, right?” Mulder asks.
“It somehow just makes her cuter,” Alvin Kersh offers.
Mulder can’t even begin to process why Kersh is here.
“She’s not just pregnant,” Frohike interjects. “She’s pregnant with your baby.”
“You have no idea how lucky you are,” Monica says wistfully.
“Lucky?” Mulder scoffs. “I wouldn’t call the past few months lucky.”
They all groan.
“Do you think any one of us wouldn’t trade places with you in a second if it meant she felt for us what she feels for you?” Skinner asks.
“If you don’t step up, I would gladly raise that baby as my own,” Jeff the pizza guy offers.
“Shut up, Jeff!” Mulder yells as he covers his ears with both hands. He’s had enough. He can’t take this anymore.
Mulder sits straight up, choking.
He is in his apartment, in his own bed. It was a dream. Oh, thank God.
He scrambles to get dressed. He finds Samantha’s doll in his closet and puts in a gift box. He’s going to bring Scully a pizza, that’s what he’s going to do. He will bring her pizza and this sentimental gift, and he’s not going to lose her to Doggett or Skinner or Reyes or the pizza guy.
It’s not too late to be there for her.
It’s not too late. So he goes to her.
