- Leave The One - Alternate Universe - MSR
- Lonely Snow Bunny - MSR - Scully´s POV
- Longing - FTF - PG - MSR
- Long Time Coming - PG - Character Death
- Many Things - FTF
Leave The One
(1/1)Data: Quarta-feira, 14 de Janeiro de 1998 20:49
Author: RocketMan >[email protected]<
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully do not belong to me. They own...oops...are
owned by....CC, 1013, and Fox Productions. No infringement is intended.
Rating: Nothing bad. MSR
ALTERNATE REALITY
Dedicated to: Verbal.....you know why....those GA talks of the other
night inspired this.....
Leave The One (1/1)
"It should've been you
And what's sad is that I love her but I'm falling for you
What should I do?
Should I...
tell my baby bye-bye
Should I...
do exactly what I feel inside
Cause I...
don't want to go, don't need to stay
but I really need to get it together.
You make me wanna
leave the one I'm with
start a new relationship with you."
--"You Make Me Wanna" Usher
I can see him just outside the window, waiting in the dark for my
signal, our old 'X' telling him it is safe. His eyes roam the street
looking for something only he can see and I pause, unwilling to let it
all start again. I promised to be good this time while he was away, yet
here I am, weak and fragile, giving in to baser instincts.
At least that's what he calls them-baser instincts.
But can't I help it if I love this man with my whole being, love that
overshadows anything I could feel for my husband, but yet, does not
eclipse it.
I can't explain how I could love two men unequally, yet not want to be
without either.
The one waiting outside in the dark is ominous and almost threatening
and he excites me, watching his lips slide across my so white flesh
compared to his.
But my lover, my true lover, the man who sees in me everything, the one
in whom I see everything, is the only man I feel completely at ease
with, the only one who can touch the very core of me-my husband.
So is this affair just a fleeting thing?
No, no it's true love, both are true love, so why can't I just have
both?
The 'X' appears and his eyes, so black, rise and his trenchcoated body
swiftly comes, as the silent thief comes, to steal, kill and destroy.
He stealthily knocks on the door, his sound heavy and like the ring of
death, and my heart trips inside and I run to the door.
He comes and his dark eyes ravish me, his thick lips melt to mine and it
is everything I have and more and so much more, so much different.
He is nothing like my husband, nothing at all, but they are so different
that I could never tell you why I loved one or the other, or if I loved
them the same. While I'm with him, I hate my husband, and vice versa.
I think John Donne said, quoting someone else, that comparisons are
'odious' and in this case, they are.
I feel his lips on mine and his hands holding me and I want to run away
with him and I almost do, every time.
He is secretive and he lurks in dark places and does things I don't even
want to know about, but it *thrills* me and I can't help longing for
that, longing for the freedom.
And then my husband will arrive and he is so relieving, so wonderfully
fresh and honest and good to me, and I really do love him. Not because
of any one thing, but because I just do. I think that my be the
difference between them.
My affair is because I love this man for something, and my husband, I
can't help loving.
But, again, comparisons are odious.
I feel my breath escape and the air in the room lifts so that we are
floating on a sea of our love, just him and me and the 'X' on the
window.
My eyes open in ecstasy and land on him.
Not him, but HIM.
"Mulder!"
His eyes are to the floor and his body trembles with the sight of the
man next to me, pleasuring me in the ways he does not.
He steps away and his eyes close. I scramble away from my cohort in this
sinful lust and feel hatred rise at myself for doing this to Mulder.
Mulder needs so much......
(I need love too....)
He needs so much love.
"Mulder....."
X looks to me and I shrug and shake my head and he understands that this
will be the last of us.
He kisses my hand and leaves, brushing by Mulder and his black,
beautiful body disappears from my starving eyes.
"X?" Mulder breathes softly, his eyes reaching mine finally.
"That's who you were with? Mr. X? The informant who almost killed me and
you numerous times!" Mulder's voice was dangerously loud, making me
stand there frozen.
"I'm sorry. I can't.....Oh, Mulder, please, I'm sorry. Never again.
Never again."
His eyes smolder into me, striking some deep nerve that makes me shiver
and my clothes drop away as I feel bare before his anger, his hurt.
He shakes his head. "Leave if you want. Leave. But don't drag my heart
through this, all right?"
His voice is low now, resigned almost and I fall before him, my eyes to
the floor, my heart to the floor.
"Please, no. Mulder. I don't want to leave. Not at all. You're the one I
love, only you. I don't know why I didn't stop. I don't know....please."
"I don't know why either." His voice slaps me into fear and chills
rumble through me like ice breaking and I am standing right on the
thinnest part of the lake.
"Please. Mulder. Forgive me. It will not happen again."
His hand stretches out to me, reaching softly, as if afraid to be
scorned. I grab it and press it to my cheek and his fingers stroke the
tears, as if wanting to know if they are real.
"I...I can't keep dong this, Scully. I can't."
"You won't have to. This is the first and last time I swear."
It's the second time he caught me really, but it was only with the same
man. Same sin.
"I....I forgive you." he says.
I stand and push my way into his arms. I really and truly do not want to
leave him ever. I do love him, I do, but I guess I had been fooling
myself into thinking I needed dangerous excitement.
"Forgive me, too, Scully?"
"What for?" I say, looking with shock into his eyes, his hurting brown
eyes.
"For not giving you everything you need. You deserve so much more...."
"Stop it. Stop. It's not you. It's my own fault. I was....I don't know.
You're all I need. I promise."
My words are paradoxes with what he has just seen, but he does not
question. He never questions.
"I love you Scully. All right? I do."
I smile into his chest. "I know. I love you too. I promise."
His head rests against my head finally, his last act of acceptance.
I sigh.
I can't lose this man.
I can't leave the one I love.
end
Adios
RM
Lonely Snow Bunny
(1/1)Date: Fri, 16 Jan 1998 13:55:29 +0000
Author: RocketMan >[email protected]<
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully do not belong to me, and the snow was
created by God and freezing temperatures. =-)
Summary: Snow day and Scully is excited. First person Scully POV. MSR
Lonely Snow Bunny (1/1)
I was so excited about the rain last night because it's January and it
always manages to snow in January here. The news kept saying that the
freezing rain would continue into midnight but that was it and I was
getting a bit discouraged. It looked like only sleet would be coming our
way this night. I worried about the car out in the sleet and hail and I
worried about getting into work the next morning.
But then the ten o'clock news said that the warning would be extended
until about three a.m. and then they announced school closings for some
private schools. The city and county were going to wait to make a
decision until the morning. I felt even worse-if the schools weren't
closing, then I had a bad feeling there would be no snow.
I stayed up until about eleven and then went to bed, certain I would be
going to work the next morning with only rain as company.
~~~
The sounds of cracking and howling woke me the next morning at about
four o'clock and I groaned and rolled over, pulling the covers up closer
to my face.
Then the noise registered.
I jumped out of the bed and shivered, but jerked away the blinds to see
outside.
Snow!
The entire street was a field of slush but the yards and the apartment
roofs had blankets of pure white snow, making it icing on gingerbread
castles to me.
I felt my skin break into goose bumps, but I did not move away from the
window, too entranced with the fairy tale before me.
I was so excited I felt just like I did when school was cancelled due to
icy conditions and I could sleep in and not worry about it.
I called the FBI switchboard, knowing someone was there and always was
there, and asked about the status of work that day.
All non vital personnel were told to stay at home and keep off the
roads, and all acting agents with important, life-threatening case loads
were asked to come in.
I didn't know about our next case so I just laughed at the recording and
at the Deputy Director's way of saying something so simple in such a
dramatic way.
I checked the time and decided to call Mulder. I needed to know what
case was next, how important it was.
I heard the phone ring and his groggy voice answered reluctantly.
"Mulder! It's me..."
"Scully." came his half asleep mumble. "Wait, what time is it?"
"Um, about four thirty?"
He groaned and I heard him fall back into the couch. "Scully! What the
h-"
"Listen, I need to know what our next case is."
"What?"
"If it's nothing pressing then we don't have to go in today."
"No, nothing pressing, just some sightings of a little girl ghost or
something. Don't go in."
"Oh, thanks Mulder. Have you seen it outside?"
"Scully....you're making me naseous. Go back to bed and call me at about
noon, all right?"
"Mulder, it snowed!" Even Scrooge could not make me forget my happiness.
Snow was like a gift straight from heaven. Cold but soft and it made me
realize how wonderful life really was. Made me feel myself again and
reminded me that the cancer was gone and I had my life back.
"Okay. That's great, Scully. I'm happy. Go back to bed."
I wrinkled my nose at him over the phone lines and hung up on him, maybe
that would show him something. I had a feeling he would only hang up and
go back to sleep.
Maybe I shouldn't have woken him up at four-thirty, though.
Oh well. He's the one missing out.
I slipped back into bed and lay awake for an hour before my exhaustion
caught up and I fell asleep.
~~~~
The kettle whistled at me in whining protest and I turned off the stove
and poured the boiling water into the FBI mug I had gotten as a
graduation present from one of my study partners at med school.
I ripped open a package of chocolate mix and stirred it around, dropping
a few marshmellows in there.
I sipped it and felt the scalding liquid burn taste buds right off my
tongue. I laguhed at the feel of this again, and the ridiculous mood I
was in that day.
I had earlier gone out and scraped off my car, thinking that maybe I
should go in to work, especially since I assumed Mulder would be. But I
was out there and in the snow and feeling it crunch against my black
boots and listening to the utter quiet of the day and I couldn't.
I just couldn't.
I hadn't really played in the snow since sixth grade when we moved to
somewhere in Central America that hadn't heard of snow or even winter
unless you lived in the mountains.
I couldn't pass up this day, not in a million years.
So I had gone back inside and heated up hot chocolate and ate a bowl of
Life cereal and grinned like an idiot to myself, wishing that Mulder
would stay home and play in the snow-it'd be therapuetic for him, I was
sure.
I had on jeans and under them some long underwear I'd bummed from Mulder
once and never gave back. Then I had on a T-shirt, black sweater, then
on top of that a thermal pullover that was black too. Then my winter
dress coat, realizing with dismay that I didn't have a casual winter
coat because I never had need of one-always working. I then wrapped a
scarf around my ears and face and yanked on gloves that had the grips in
them so I could drive and grasp things. I was only planning on touching
snow today though and I could see myself already out there, anxious as I
was.
I drained the last of the hot chocolate and got out a package of mocha
for when I got back inside.
And then I stepped out into a different planet. One of ice and slush and
white pristiness that stretched forever and made my eyes dance with the
overload of white stimuli. Little ribbons of color ran through my vision
until it adjusted and then I began making tiny tracks in the sidewalk
leading to the road, not wanting to ruin the perfect white covering.
I turned once I got to the end and looked back at everything and again
felt overwhelmed with the sheer and sterile beauty of the landscape. It
was as if God had come down himself and painted everything a dazzling
white that was thick and comforting, a self portait of God in all the
whiteness, the brilliant light that radiated and shone from the snow was
him.
I shivered and traced my name on top of the mailbox where about half an
inch had collected and stayed frozen. 'Dana Scully' it read soon and
seemed so lonesome there that I wrote Mulder's name underneath it in
bold wild letters. Just like Mulder.
I looked back at the yard of snow and then began to scrape up hunks, so
icy that as soon as I molded it together, it froze and stuck together in
a hard snowball. The kind that killed when it hit you.
I began to shape a round ball, thinking of making a little baby snowman.
I slid my hands along the snow, curling it into little piles and
clearing out a space for my little snowman.
But it collapsed halfway through and turned into a snow bunny instead.
A little girl from the apartments came out then and helped me finish it,
her face reddened and just as thrilled as mine. I truly felt her age,
all of seven, and wished I really was.
Abby, the girl, smiled and said softly, "I like him. He's cute. Let's
make him a Mommy and Daddy so he won't be lonely out here."
I nodded and realized that this was an important thing, not to be
lonely, like my impulse to write Mulder's name next to mine on the
mailbox.
So we gathered up snow and made him a Mommy and Daddy and brothers and
sisters too, because Abby said she learned in school that rabbits had
lots of little babies. As we made the siblings, she told me about school
and her math group being called the Bunnies because they were the best
multipliers in their class and she was very proud of the little Math Bee
they'd had and which she had won. I excalimed over it and was truly
impressed because seven seemed so small to be learning multiplication
and that bunnies had lots of babies.
I let her name all of them and then we wrote their names in the snow.
Abby's Mom came out and made a big deal about the bunnies and smiled and
kissed her and then ushered her inside because she'd been out for three
hours and didn't want her to catch a cold.
I glanced to my watch and realized it was eleven o'clock and I had been
outside for almost four hours. I couldn't even feel my hands anymore and
when I stood up from the position I had been in for three hours making
rabbits, I couldn't feel my legs either.
I felt foolish because I was an adult and a *doctor* but also, I felt
exhilirated at the chill creeping in my body and the heat at the very
core of me that warmed when the body got too cold. It had snowed and I
was alive to see it!
I laughed and stomped up the stairs to my apartment and then slipped off
my boots and gloves and let them fall to the floor, uncaring that they
could stain the wooden floor.
I realized that I couldn't feel my toes at all. At all. I grew a little
worried and felt even more stupid but I shed the coat, pullover, and
scarf. Then I made some mocha and sipped it as my toes tingled as if
they'd been asleep and lost blood.
I felt good though. Alive again and I wished Mulder had been there to
play in the snow with. I kept thinking that he would have enjoyed it
immensely.
My door buzzed and I jumped, spilling mocha on me, and then ran to the
door, kicking my clothes out of the way.
It was Mulder, carrying some extra clothes with him and smiling like an
idiot, just as I had been.
"Want to go out in the snow?" he said.
I smiled and let him in. "Been there, done that."
His face brightened. "Were those rabbits yours?"
I grinned and saw his breath catch. I don't grin much. "Yup. Mine and
Abby's. A little girl in the apartments; she was the only one who came
out."
He flashed me another smile and said, "Well, how about we make a little
family of foxes and let them eat the rabbits?"
My mind was confused for a moment, because I swear there was a bit of
teasing in the 'family of foxes' thing and I was mockingly angry at
killing off my bunnies.
"You'd better not. Abby and I would be terribly sad if the bunnies
died."
He tilted his head and his eyebrows raised. "Well, if they died, we
could make them snow angels."
I laughed at his excitement and shook my head. "Or we could just make
more of them."
He nodded and sat at my kitchen table. I watched him grin and his eyes
turned him into a little boy again.
Okay, Mulder. Let's go." I said, giving in but feeling my frozen toes
still protesting.
He jumped up and helped me with the winter stuff, and then we were
outside again.
His eyes caught the mailbox and he looked over at me and I pretended not
to notice.
We made snow angels and added to the bunny family and he named them
weird names like 'Xanadu' and 'Tribble' and I laughed at him as he
concentrated very hard on it.
He smeared snow down my back as I laughed at him, so we ended up having
a huge snowball fight, and the snow was so icy that eah stung like a
paintball and I was reminded of FBI training all over again.
Soon, we were right across from each other, deadly snowball in each of
our hands and determination etched into out frozen, red faces.
I was itching to spill the snow all down his back as he'd done to me,
and I could see his anxiousness as he tried to defend himself.
We lunged at the same time, and ended up in a pile of snow and arms and
legs and vain efforts at shoving snow in the other's face. It was like
snowball fights with my brothers all over again.
We scrambled around so much that his leg kicked a bunny and sent it
flying and we just lay there and gasped for breath as we laughed harder
than ever.
I looked up at one point and found he was partly on top of me, my back
crushed into the snow and hands clutching his shoulders as we laughed.
He looked down at me in the same moment and I watched his eyes change
and grow and I felt this need not be lonely in the snow anymore.
I lifted my head, hair brushing off the snow and his lips met mine
halfway, hot and cold at the same instant.
And then it was over and he was looking at me and moving away and I
could only watch him move away.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
I grabbed his arm and shook my head silently. "Let's go in and get some
coffe, all right?"
He seemed confused, but I felt the cold enter me again and it made me
bold-I reached forward and kissed him again. I could tasts his surprise.
We went in and had coffee and hung our clothes up to dry and curled up
together on the couch with a huge blanket.
And warmed each otehr up.
end
It snowed and we got out of school today! Snow snow snow! I love snow!
Adios
RM
Longing
(1/1)Date: Mon, 22 Jun 1998 15:41:35 +0000
Author: RocketMan >[email protected]
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe
intended for the movie or the show.
SPOILER:::::::FIGHT THE FUTURE::::::US5
Summary: So, who needs who?
Longing
=====
"While we're talking about all of the things that I long to believe
About love and the truth and what you mean to me
And the truth is, baby, you're all that I need."
--Bon Jovi, "Bed of Roses"
=====
She was still cold.
Couldn't get warm anymore, like there was a sliver of ice still at the
core of her bones. No matter how many times she took a hot shower or
curled up in bed or ran around, she was cold.
Cold.
Shivering as she pulled on her clothes for that mroning, shuddering when
she got in the car, trembling when the rest of her sweated in the hot
office.
Her cheeks and nose and chin showed her chill. Tiny spiderwebbed blood
vessels criss-crossed her skin, blooming in a network of reminders.
Mulder looked at her and saw this, looked at her and saw his failure, or
perhaps his victory.
What was this - a battle lost or won?
He had found her, after everything, he had saved her.
Familiar words that she couldn't quite reconcile. How was it that he
thought she saved him? Constantly frustrating him didn't seem to count
for salvation. Yet to him, in his warped, confused mind, she had saved
him with her every breath.
So of course he had to come after her.
But she didn't think he had done it for selfish reasons. He hadn't
risked his own life just to keep her *in* his life.
Why had he done it? Why to the very edge of the world to save her when
he couldn't even be sure she was still alive?
Even after his words, she questioned, she wondered, she did not
understand.
It was cold.
And she didn't know who had won this time.
~~~~~
His hands were damp with sweat when he saw her walking in their
makeshift office, her hair pushed back and darker than he remembered.
She was in a pantsuit, with a white shirt and navy collar and she was
fingering her neck as if she was missing something.
He remembered.
"Scully?"
Her face turned to him and once again, there was all of Antarctica on
her skin.
"I have your cross."
Her eyes lit up and she moved to his side, her hand coming out to
receive her necklace.
When it touched her skin, she felt warm.
Her shoulders sagged and she sat down in the chair in front of him.
Warmth.
It melted the chill in her and worked out all the slivers of ice in her
bones.
She handed him the chain and looked at him with questions in her eyes,
asking something of him he wasn't quite ready to answer.
But he moved around his desk and stood behind her, then slipped the
chain around her neck, sliding his fingers along her skin like breaths.
It was like summer had returned to her.
All the chill, all the shivering reminders of ice and aliens were gone,
replaced with faith and love and hope and assurance.
His hands strayed to her arms, and he leaned over her, catching her in
his arms and holding on.
A kiss to the side of her neck made her feel more than just warm, more
like she was burning.
And then he stood again and leaned agianst his desk, running away again.
"I'm glad you're okay," he said softly.
She smiled like the sun in Alaska after long months of night. She
reached across the desk and took his hand. "I'm glad you came after me."
His lips quirked into a smile and they released hands, let go of other
things too as their ice melted.
"So, now that you've saved me, does that mean we're even?"
Recalling his mind to previous moments, to a kiss on his forehead that
was almost more, to the look on her face as she smiled and cried for
him. It made him stand, made him want her again with the same gentleness
he had felt before.
Gentle ferocity that is.
She saw the longing in his eyes and the way he crept close to her,
pulled her to her feet and took a long, long moment to adore her being
in his arms.
"Hey Scully?"
"Yeah?" she asked, watching the smiles in his eyes.
"I had the place sprayed for bees, just in case."
Her face broke into a grin and his lips touched hers, touching her
laughter, her warmth.
No tears this time, no "sorry", no fatal bee stings or awkwardness.
Her eyes closed as they pulled away and she kissed his forehead again,
just as before, just as needing.
Her body trembled and her voice came to him scratched, fused with heat
and love and faith.
"I think we're even."
"I think we won."
~~~~~
end
adios
RM
~~okay, so after seeing the movie twice in 24 hours, I had to write
Long Time Coming
(0/1)Author: [email protected]
Date: sometime in May
Disclaimer: Belongs to CC, 1013, Fox. The song at beginning is "Breathe
In Me" by Michael W. Smith, a wonderful poet. This in no way goes with
"I'll Be Around"
Distribute: go ahead, make my day
Rating: PG13
Content Warning: Character dies
Spoiler: everything fourth season
Summary: What I hope really didn't happen during Gethsemane when Mulder
was crying, but had to do a story on. Sigh....I've been sucked in by the
powers that be.....not *Them*.....to write something about Geth. Too
good to pass up.
Long Time Coming (1/1)<I hope>
See part 0 for disclaim and other junk
<I used to be
so sensitive
To the light that leads
to where you are
Now I've acquired
these callouses
With the darkness of
A cold and jaded heart
So breathe in me
I need you now
I've never felt so dead within
So breathe in me
Maybe somehow
You can breathe new life
In me again>
In the darkness of false hopes and shattered illusions, Fox Mulder sat
quietly on the only comfort he had, and a partly bitter one at that. The
leather couch, site of nightmares and revelations, of deaths and hopes,
of lies and truths. And once more, Fox Mulder was seeking the couch's
solace; it's lonely reassurance that some things are only made for one.
One person to handle the problems and one person to be hurt by those
problems. He should have listened to its warning long ago. He didn't
need a partner, partners only got in the way, only tangled up your heart
until you were bound hand and foot and unable to deal with anything
without hurting your significant other. Problems he had wer made for
one, yet he'd pulled her into them and he was being punished for it, by
punishing her. It was his fault. He knew with facts and proof it was his
fault - she had said as much. If Scully finally believed in something,
who was he to say it wasn't true? Who was he not to believe?
All was a lie. All he'd ever believed in with any certainty had been
arranged to make him purport the government's lie. The very thing he'd
fought so hard against, was the thing she believed he encouraged.
What hurt the most? He couldn't tell. It all became one continuing
cycle. It was a tie between her refusal to believe him, only what
another stranger had said that sounded better, or her willingness to
believe the cancer was his fault. It was his fault. He had secretly
dreaded she'd think that, but when she hadn't, when she had given him
her trust and asked for his support in the hospital, he had thought it
was over. No more pain on the guilt level.
But she believed. <Oh, crap, I should be rejoicing. She believes!> She
believed he was being made to believe a lie. She believed that his life
was engineered around a lie. She believed that he was the major player
and she was only a pawn used to make tham believe. <Oh, no, so much more
important!>
But he had the horrible, gut wrenching feeling, she was right. She was
right.
The 1972 conference on the existence of extraterrestrial life was
running and he could only think that it had all been carefully played
out. The informants, the suspicious leads, the whole freaking thing.
He'd been led around on a string in order to keep the sane people from
figuring out what was going on.
Oh......gods....he'd been used. Used like a rag to mop up their spills.
And he'd been so used, he had hurt other people doing it. He had killed
her. He was killing her. And she believed he was killing her.
There was no Samantha, there was no Truth. Only lies on top of lies, on
top of lies. Century old lies passed down through the generations and he
had helped pass them right along.
Oh.....gods......he had helped them! *He* had *helped* them. Helped
them kill her with that lie. In believing the lie, he had sealed and
signed her death sentence.
"Scully," he moaned, in half whisper, tears finally falling. The truth
would not save her. The truth was a tangled web of deceit that he had
helped to create. She was given cancer in order to maintain that lie.
His lie.
But if he were to not believe? If he were to give up all the lies and
find the real truth?
<She'd still die> Oh....she'd still die. It was too late. Because he
couldn't see clearly anymore. Truth was false and lies were turht and
lies were everywhere. He couldn't sort them out. He didn't know what to
believe, he didn't know what he believed even now, but that she believed
and not in him. He couldn't even believe in her. She believed he had
killed her.
He felt dead inside at the thought. Hollowed out and broken in pieces,
a shell of a man, of a Believer. With the life so calmly snuffed out of
him, he had nothing to light it again. No Scully. Oh....he needed her to
breathe life into his dried out lungs. He needed her force of strength
in him to remind him of good. Of truth.
But she no longer had that to give, and he had already taken so much.
If he were gone, she'd be left alone, right? This had all come about
because of him. If he were not here to influence, to lie to, they'd let
her live right? They wouldn't......wouldn't let her die.......Cancer Man
had said he liked her..........she won't die......no death.
And if he were gone, he wouldn't have to look in her eyes every day and
see the disbelief in him, the hurt and the pain of it all.
She no longer needed him. He could not go on without her; he needed the
life giving oxygen she had so freely offered before. She just didn't
have any more to give.
The gun was in his hands before he even realized what he was
contemplating. All it would take was one clean shot, dead on impact,
painful as hell but he might as well get used to it and he deserved it.
For believing the lie, for allowing them to use him and his not even
seeing it. All the information, the secret meetings, close encounters,
to let him get close to his personal truth - lie - then snatch it away.
He could still save her. She'd identify his body and see his tears and
know he at least didn't mean to kill her, that he was trying to fix it.
The more he thought, the deader he felt. The less living he felt. Like
with her open acceptance of something completely against him she had
sucked the life from him. She was anti-Mulder, the complete and total
opposite and anti. Anti-Mulder. Not Mulder, Ex-Mulder, X out Mulder.
She was his life. Maybe she had the power to save him. Maybe she'd come
back and breathe life into him again.
Hopes mingled with tears and he forcefully shook his head.
<She hates you. Hates you for the fool you are, and the fool you've
turned her into.>
He put the barrel to his head, intent that he would be a man about his
death, and little back, so she could recognize his face when she came,
and see the tear tracks. Recognize his face......the face of her
destroyer, her savior.......he closed his eyes.
Death had been a long time in coming.
End.
Adios
RocketMan
forgive me, i don't want him dead, but couldn't resist....
='''-(
Many Things
Author: RocketMan >[email protected]<
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is
intened.
CONTENT:::::SPOILER FOR FTF!!!!!
Notes: Hey everyone. I haven't done a short piece in a very long time. I
miss it. This is my attempt to apologize to everyone for not being here
lately. I worked on two really long stories, only one of which I even
posted here. So this is for everyone here. Everyone that has read anything
of mine and responded, or just simply thought about it. Thank you.
~~@~~@~~
Many Things
~~@~~@~~
Many things have happened.
As I sit here, I can't remember what got it all started.
Was it my abduction? Or the first case, with the vegetable boy in the
woods offering up his classmates just as Duane Barry later offered me?
Did it start with the very first time my mother took me to the Naval Base
to see the doctor and I fell in love with him like only a six year old
can?
Was it even further? Did this begin with Mulder's father drowning in lies
and fear and turning that on his children?
Mulder told me it goes even further. Goes to the the beginning of the
world, when we first began to exist, when caves were homes and men were
animals.
I shiver and stand again, rising from my seat next to him, waiting just as
he is waiting.
"Scully?"
I shrug off his concern and roll my eyes at the wait.
"Scully, sit down, you're making me anxious."
I stalk to the window, ignoring him sigh, and look out at the thousands of
people moving below.
No, not thousands. I'd like to see thousands. I wonder how crowded it
would be on Pennsylvania if thousands came to the White House, to march on
it just as Martin Luther King did.
If they came to march for the truth instead of freedom.
Free at last, free at last. . .
Ha.
Freedom is so rare these days. I would rather be enslaved to the truth
than the lies. Even if the lies give me the illusion of freedom.
Thank God Almighty, I'm free at last.
I smile and laugh and look up at Mulder.
I *am* free at last, and it was Mulder's march on Antarctica that did it.
He raises an eyebrow at my joy, and I reach out for his hand.
"Thank you," I say simply and release his sweat-slick hand.
I see him confused in his plastic chair over in the corner; he can't
fathom what I could be thanking him for. That's Mulder. His mind is
horribly focussed on getting through each moment, forgetting the past, yet
living for it at the same time.
I wonder what he'd live like trapped in our past. Trapped in last year by
my death, disappearance, whatever.
Marches or misery?
I hope he'd march. . .I'd like to think he'd crusade harder than Martin
Luther King, like to think that such a cause would remain so important
long after my own assassination.
I have a Dream. . .
Many things have happened.
I have strange thoughts about it all.
Like now. When you have nothing to do but wait for release, rationalism
comes like snow in summer.
"Scully?"
"Unh-huh?"
"Do you mind sitting back down?"
"Yes. I mind. I'm watching them march, Mulder."
This must be too much for him and he comes up behind me, his breath
tickling the crown of my head before he looks out below.
"No one's marching, Scully."
He says it dejectedly, as if I promised him candy and didn't give it to
him, and he expected it anyway.
"Yes they are. In their own way, Mulder. Just by going on with their
lives. By demanding their freedom to work, to live, to love. They march."
He seems to know my words are more than a single parade line trampling
down the grass. He can see the allusion to our own lives here.
"I hope so."
"I know so," I reply and take his hand again.
"What do they march for, Scully? They're so different, so not alike."
"Truth. They march for truth and that is enough."
He shakes his head. "Sometimes, they need more. Sometimes one of them will
stop and forget why he keeps going."
"Then the other will be there to make him remember. To show him."
"Always?"
I smile and watch his lips twitch under my gaze. "If they quit now. . ."
He groans. "You're forever going to use my words against me."
I shake my head and turn to watch the 'thousands' of people marching for
freedom.
"I'm going to use your words for you, Mulder. Never against you."
A nod and he tugs on my hand, pulling me into him.
So many things happening.
"Now, will you sit down?"
With a gentle touch, he pushes me back to my seat, placing a two year old
People magazine in my lap and a grin on his face.
"Sure."
Many things have happened, and will happen, and are on the verge of
happening.
Right now, I just want Skinner to get in here so we can start our report.
Mulder sighs.
"Stop fidgeting."
~~~~
end
adios
RM
how was that?
not quite our Scully. . .huh?