EpiphanyTITLE:  Epiphany 
SPOILER WARNING:  FTF 
RATING:  PG-13, for language 
CONTENT WARNING:  Big time CharlieAngst. 
CLASSIFICATION:  SRA, MSR, Charlie/other 
SUMMARY:  Charlie Scully copes with memories of a tragedy, and finds comfort 
from a surprising source.  A Silver Bracelet story. 
NOTE:  This story follows immediately on the heels of "Charlie", and probably 
won't make a lot of sense if you haven't read that one.  "Charlie", as well as 
all the other Silver Bracelet stories, are available at my web site:  
http://www.avalon.net/~publius/MyStories.html 
Also:  The Silver Bracelet stories take place in an alternate timeline, which 
diverges from what we've seen on the tube sometime after FTF.  Season 6 hasn't 
happened. 
  
  
Epiphany 
by Brandon D. Ray 
  
I slipped out of the room when the hymns started. 
Dana caught my eye, and saw what I was doing, but she just nodded, ever so 
slightly, knowing where I was going and why, and went on singing with the 
others.  "We Three Kings" it was.  I used to love that one. 
I stepped into the kitchen and closed the door, which muted the sound of their 
voices but didn't block it out entirely.  I thought for a moment about going on 
outside, but it was so damned cold out there, and I'd left my coat in the front 
closet.  No way I could get it without drawing attention to myself, and I was 
not so completely lost in self-pity that I was willing to go outdoors in 20 
degree weather in my shirt sleeves. 
Holidays used to be my favorite times, and Christmas and Twelfth Night were best 
of all, but that was before I lost Betty and the kids.  Now those special times 
of year range from barely tolerable to excruciating, and I try to skip out on as 
much of the damned holiday cheer as I can. 
My C.O. just thinks I'm an eager beaver, volunteering as O.D. on Christmas Day 
or the Fourth of July, but really it's just a way of hiding.  When I'm sitting 
at my desk, knowing that I'm one of about five people in the building, just 
focusing on the latest intelligence estimates and trying to figure out what that 
motherfucker in Baghdad is up to THIS time, I can make it all go away for 
awhile. 
Sometimes. 
Dana is the only one who really understands.  We've been close, really close, 
ever since we were kids.  When those bullies at PS 233 beat me up and stole my 
lunch money, Dana was the one who shared her food with me.  When she missed 
qualifying for the state science competition by a tenth of a point, I was the 
one who told her they were assholes who didn't know what they were talking 
about.  When Susie Pesek broke my heart in the 10th grade, Dana was was the one 
who took me out and bought me ice cream, and persuaded me to get right back on 
the horse and ask another girl out.  When that son of a bitch Willis laughed at 
her when she asked him to marry her, I was the one who held her while she cried. 

And when I lost my wife and children, Dana was the one who dropped everything 
and stayed with me until I was strong enough to be alone. 
Don't get me wrong; I love my family.  But Dana has always been special to me, 
and she always will be.  And I'm so glad she's finally found someone who 
fulfills her that I could dance for fucking joy. 
That's even mostly true, but when I look inside myself I have to admit that 
there is a small tinge of jealousy at the fact that she now has someone else she 
can turn to instead of me.  But I always knew this day would come, and I long 
ago swore to myself that I wouldn't let this feeling rule me.  And the fact that 
the man she's chosen seems to be a hell of a fine human being helps a lot. 
I am pulled out of my reverie by the door opening, and I turn to see who it is.  
Mulder.  Automatically I put that friendly smile on my face -- not the one I 
show to admirals and Congresscritters, but the one I reserve for people I 
actually like.  It's just a little forced at the moment, that's all, because 
happy isn't what I'm really feeling right now. 
I can tell by the brief hesitation in his stride that he has seen through my 
mask, but on top of everything else he is a gentleman, and he ignores it.  He 
steps over to the refrigerator and proceeds to root around in it, looking for 
something. 
"Can I help you out, Mulder?" I say, taking a step towards him. 
He glances briefly over his shoulder, then turns back to his task.  "Yeah.  Your 
mom said there was another quart of egg nog in here, but I can't seem to find 
it." 
"Oh, yeah," I say.  "I saw it earlier.  Second shelf, all the way in the back." 
"Got it."  He straightens up and turns to face me, and there is nothing but easy 
friendliness on his face.  Mulder and I really hit it off this afternoon, even 
if he is a Knicks fan.  "So Charlie," he says, moving over to the cupboard where 
mom keeps her mugs and glasses.  "When am I going to get to meet your wife and 
kids?" 
He has his back to me as he delivers this line, so he doesn't see my jaw drop, 
or the momentary flash of anger on my face, but in another second he's going to 
turn around and look at me again, and then he'll know, so I quickly turn away 
from him and lean against the sink. 
<<He doesn't know,>> I tell myself.  <<That's the only explanation.  He doesn't 
know, because Dana never told him.>>  I hadn't realized until he and I had been 
talking for awhile this morning that Dana had been a one-way conduit between 
Mulder and me.  She'd dumped so much information about him into my lap over the 
past three years that I just assumed she'd been telling him all about me, as 
well. 
In retrospect I realize I was wrong about that.  I even understand why it was 
all one way.  Dana talked to me at such length about Mulder because she was 
trying to sort out her feelings about him, and figure out what she wanted.  Her 
mind was conflicted with her heart, and she was using me as a sort of 
combination sounding board and referee between the two sides of herself.  Of 
course, she had no such conflict when it came to her feelings towards me, and so 
there was no reason for the information flow to run in the other direction. 
Unfortunately, now I am paying the price for that.  Mulder doesn't know about 
what happened to Betty and the kids, and now he's gone and inadvertently put his 
foot in a very sensitive place. 
I stand at the sink for a moment, expecting him to go away.  It's a guy thing, 
you see:  Guys don't share their emotions with each other, and when one of us 
does slip and let something through, the others are honor bound to pretend not 
to have seen it, and withdraw from the situation as soon as possible. 
Only I guess Mulder never heard about that rule, because suddenly I feel the 
lightest possible touch on my shoulder, and I close my eyes for just a moment as 
I realize I'm going to have to deal with this. 
"Charlie?"  Mulder's voice is very soft, very gentle.  "Charlie?  Did I say 
something wrong?" 
Oh, yeah, Mulder, you said something wrong.  But it's not your fault. 
I draw a shaky breath, still holding onto the edge of the sink as tightly as I 
can.  I don't really think I'll collapse on the floor if I let go, but it feels 
like it.  "It's okay, Mulder," I say.  "I'm fine." 
Surprisingly, I hear a chuckle at that statement, and I turn my head just enough 
to see that he is smiling.  At the look on my face the smile is instantly gone, 
and he says, "Sorry.  That's what Scully always says when she doesn't want me to 
know how badly hurt she is." 
I can't help but smile a bit at that.  This man really does know Dana, maybe 
even better than I do.  It's nice to have a kindred spirit at last. 
I realize that I'm still standing here at the sink, looking at Mulder half over 
my shoulder, and now I look at his eyes and I am surprised at what I find there. 
 Not just the tentative glint of humor as he realizes from my smile that I'm not 
angry at him, but something else.  Caring.  Compassion.  Empathy.  Something 
that encourages me to share whatever it is that's bothering me, but at the same 
time assures me that it's okay if I don't want to. 
I think I'm beginning to understand why Dana fell for this guy. 
I shake my head slightly and turn back to the sink, thinking about it.  He's 
going to have to know, sooner or later, and there really isn't a good time or a 
good way to tell him.  Might as well be now.  I take a deep breath and try to 
focus all my attention on the faucet, like it was the Holy Grail or something.  
I feel Mulder's hand touch my shoulder again, and somehow that makes it easier. 
"My wife," I say, but then suddenly there's this lump in my throat, and I have 
to swallow it back down and start over.  "My wife...Betty.  And Mikey, and 
Sarah.   They...they were in the Murrah Building.  Oklahoma City." 
There is a moment of silence that seems to stretch on forever.  Images start to 
form in front of me, things I just don't want to look at right now, and inside I 
am screaming for Mulder to goddamned say something, and take my attention off of 
this. 
Finally he speaks.  "Jesus, Charlie.  I'm so sorry.  I didn't know." 
And the people in the living room choose that exact moment to launch into 
"Brightest and Best of the Sons of the Morning," Betty's favorite of all the 
Twelfth Night hymns, and I just lose it.  My knees give out and I slide down 
onto the floor, and Mulder is going right down with me, wrapping his arms around 
my shoulders while I sob like a baby. 
After awhile I run down, but we continue to sit there, kind of cuddled together. 
 Mulder doesn't say anything, doesn't move, is hardly even breathing, just being 
there and letting me know that I'm not alone.  Jesus.  If he's always like this 
I don't know how Dana managed to hold out for three years before finally giving 
in to him.  I'm not a touchy-feelie sort of guy, but I am just completely and 
totally comfortable, sitting here with him holding me.  And after a bit, I hear 
myself start to talk. 
"I was running late that day," I hear myself saying.  "Betty and I slept through 
the alarm, but she was always more organized than I was, and she had herself 
dressed and the kids ready for daycare before I had even had my shower.  So I 
told her to head on in to work, and I'd follow in the Cavalier in a few minutes. 

"I was almost there when I heard this booming noise.  I didn't know what it was 
-- gas main explosion, maybe, though it would've had to have been a pretty 
fucking humongous gas main to generate that much of a shockwave.  Then a couple 
minutes later I came around the corner and I saw...well, you were in Dallas." 
I have to stop for a minute to get my breathing back under control, because now 
we're coming to the bad part.  "I jumped out of the car and ran towards the 
building.  Never even crossed my mind that there might be more explosions, or 
that the building might collapse on me or something.  I just knew that my wife 
and kids were in there, and I had to find them. 
"It was horrible.  There was rubble everywhere, and people hurt, and crying, the 
cops and ambulances were just starting to arrive....  God.  I wound up working 
with one of the rescue teams, digging people out, saving those we could 
and...and rescuing the bodies of those we couldn't.  And the whole time I was 
looking for Betty and Mikey and Sarah." 
The lump is back in my throat, but this time swallowing doesn't seem to be doing 
me any good, and so I just decide to press on and get it over with.  "And then I 
found Mikey.  And he was alive.  He was buried under a bunch of bricks and 
stuff, but he was still alive.  I knew I couldn't move him, I knew I had to wait 
for the paramedics, so I just lay down next to him.  His breathing was so 
shallow...I could barely see his chest moving.  And then it stopped." 
The tears are streaming down my face again, and my shoulders are shaking.  I 
don't know what Mulder must be thinking about all this, but way in the back 
recesses of my mind I remember what Dana has told me about the tragedies he's 
had to endure, so maybe it's okay.  Finally he says, very softly, "He was 
waiting for you, Charlie." 
I nod my head.  "Yeah, I know.  I figured that out.  And I thank God every 
single day that I was allowed  to be with him when he died.  But god, Mulder, it 
hurts so much.  It hurts so much."  And then I just break down and cry again for 
awhile. 
At last things seem to calm down a bit.  I don't think I want to go into the 
nightmares; we've had enough for now, both of us.  I look into his eyes and the 
empathy and compassion are still there, he's still reaching out to me, and I 
have this sudden realization, almost blinding in its wonder and simplicity, that 
I don't need to be jealous of this man.  He's not taking my sister from me.  
He's not taking Dana.  He's completing her, and he's going to be there for me, 
just as she has always been, because now he's part of who she is.  It's like an 
epiphany. 
Suddenly I start to laugh, as I realize what day it is and just how fucking 
appropriate that word is.  Mulder's looking a little puzzled, but I'm too wound 
up with laughter to be able to explain it to him, he'll just have to wait.  I 
clutch my sides and double over, almost choking with hilarity.  I know it's not 
really THAT funny, but I can't stop myself.  I guess it's a way of blowing off 
steam. 
After a minute or so the laughter dies down until it's just a chuckle or two, 
and finally I stop and wipe my eyes on my shirt sleeve.  Mulder says, "Care to 
share the joke with me?" 
I shake my head.  "S-sorry.  It would take too long to explain.  And it wasn't 
THAT funny, really." 
"Are you guys okay?" 
We both look up, and there's Dana standing in the doorway, concern writ large on 
her face.  I don't know exactly how much of this she witnessed, but I'm not 
really up to going over it again, and besides, I'm actually feeling much better 
now than I was a few minutes ago. 
"We're fine, sis," I say, climbing to my feet and offering Mulder a hand up.  
"Me and your main squeeze were just doing a little bonding." 
It must be pretty damned obvious that I've been crying, but she seems to accept 
that explanation and smiles.  "Good.  I'm glad to see you two guys getting along 
so well.  It means a lot to me."  Then she takes three quick steps forward and 
wraps one arm around me and the other around Mulder and pulls us close, wedging 
her head in between our chests.  "I love you both so much." 
What's a guy to do?  I look over at Mulder, and there's an amused grin on his 
face.  He winks at me, and I wink back.  Then he puts his arms around me and 
Dana, and I reciprocate, and we just stand there for a moment having this three 
way hug. 
Epiphany.  Yeah.  That's definitely the right word. 
  
  
Fini 
  
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