Sure. Fine. Whatever. A Dana Scully Origin Story

Smoke Alarm

The Scully family was no stranger to Military life. Dana's Father, William, or Bill Sr. was a Navy Captain and had been previously stationed in Annapolis, Maryland. Dana's older brother, Bill Jr. was in the Navy as well and her brother Charles was expected to join when he graduated high school. Dana's brothers were expected to follow in the footsteps of their father. Dana and Melissa, on the other hand, were expected to make something remarkable of themselves. Dana, unlike Melissa, never felt pressured to pursue a dignified profession. She had known since kindergarten, when they hatched butterflies in the classroom, that she wanted to be a scientist.

"Mom, I'm home," Dana said as she kicked off her shoes at the door.

There was no answer.

Dana limped up to her room, out of breath and covered in sweat.

"Mom?" She called as she walked up the stairs.

Still no answer.

Dana shrugged and opened her bedroom door. A large poster of Paul McCartney playing guitar greeted her as she walked in. She plopped herself on her bed and closed her eyes. She wanted so desperately to take a nap but her stomach was growling, and she had an essay to write.

She stood up, walked to her vanity mirror and looked closely at her face.

"I hate the sun." She said as she counted a patch of new freckles under her left eye.

She took off her uniform, hung it up in her closet and changed into a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans. She put on a pair of red socks, she hated the way the hardwood floor felt against her bare feet and made her way downstairs.

As she approached the fridge she noticed a note stuck to the handle. It read:

Dana, I went out with Ms. Walker. Please make the pork chops in the fridge for dinner. I will be back late. Love mom.

Dana sighed.

Light entered through the white chiffon curtains and scattered rays of striped sun into their empty living room. Dana had ever only known life as a minimalist. Her family moved so frequently that they only had what they needed. Nothing more. Nothing less. The only picture that adorned the walls in their home was one of her family taken at a Navy Ball nearly ten years ago.

Dana took a seat on the bare floor in front of their Panasonic wood-paneled television. She punched the set on and was introduced to a panicked news host and his co-anchor. The words, "Breaking News: San Diego Teen Found Dead on Coronado Beach" shot out of the broadcaster's voice like a bolt of lightning. Dana inched closer to her TV and looked into the deep brown eyes of Pauline Simmons, a girl that she sat next to in her trigonometry class. Her senior picture floated on the screen as a haunting reminder that death has no compassion towards even the youngest and most beautiful of people.

Dana could hardly breathe or speak. She turned the TV off and sat in the golden flecked sunlight, her consciousness fading into the walls.

Her landline rang with a deafening scream. She shot awake as a pulse of bitter adrenaline filled the veins of her neck. She swallowed hard and inhaled like she had been held under the same briny sea water that Pauline had drowned in. It relentlessly sang it's song until Dana picked up the tangerine colored phone.

"Hello," She breathed, touching her soft fingertips to her forehead, "Hello?" She echoed.

Faint, shallow breathing could only be heard on the other end.

"Hello? Charlie, if this is a prank, you're not funny." She sighed.

The breathing continued. In and out. In and out. Airy. Light. Almost satisfied.

Dana felt a chill as cold as snow tinge up her leg. Before she could react, the other end hung up. She placed the phone back on the hook and went into the kitchen. Looking over her shoulder, she breathed softly through 'o' shaped lips. Closing her eyes, as if to say, 'Get it together, Dana.' She ignited the gas stove and began to make dinner as her mother had asked.

---

"Maggie? Margaret, I'm home." Mr. Scully chimed as he entered the front door.

Dana exited the kitchen into the front room. "Hi, Dad." She loosely smiled as she held her hands close to her. They were covered in flour and she desperately did not want to get any on the newly polished floor.

"Starbuck, how was your day?"

Her dad was in an unusually chipper mood. It was sad how a smile, a laugh, a hug were not commonplace in the Scully home. Dana had endured many quiet dinners, many contentious family nights, and many nights of falling asleep to the sound of arguing parents downstairs.

Caught off guard, Dana forced a grin, "I'm okay, Dad. I'm doing fine." She went back to the kitchen and flipped the frying pork chops onto their other sides.

"Is that it," He took a seat at the counter bar, "Just fine?"

"I mean, yeah," Dana said, her back towards her father.

"I, uh, heard about that girl from your school. It was one of our sailors that found her."

Dana stood frozen. She slowly turned around towards her dad. Ghostly white, her face met his. "Dad, how did she --"

Her dad rubbed his balding head with his rough hands. "Starbuck," He thought very carefully on how to phrase his words. This was much harder than he had thought it to be.

"Dad, I'm eighteen. I can handle it."

"Dana, all we know is that she didn't drown in the ocean. She had no salt water in her lungs."

"What do you mean? She was found washed up on the beach."

"She did drown, Dana. It just wasn't in the ocean. It was like, she was drowned somewhere else and placed on the shore."

"Are you saying that Pauline was... murdered?"

The smoke alarm above Dana's head began to sob screams of red into the blackened smoke of the kitchen.