- Choosing - FTF - Angst
- Shambles I
- Shambles II
- So It Goes
- Some Gifts
Author: RocketMan
Email: >[email protected]<
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is
intended.
SPOILER:::::X-Files Premier US6:::::::::::The End, FTF
Summary: MS Angst, X,S, -- Mulder and Scully find out the exact cost of
their lack of trust in each other, as the events CC alluded to in the
Premier, come to a raging finale.
~~~~
Choosing
~~~~
The Very End - Mulder
~~~~
I shake my head and watch her eye me, her body poised for some final
betrayal.
I want to make it right again.
She shivers and pulls back into the shadows of her apartment, her head
bowing as if praying for divine guidance.
<Oh, God, make her forgive me.>
~~~~
The Beginning - Mulder
~~~~
I had forgotten all the lessons Antarctica had taught me in the brief
space of a few months.
There was Scully, alive and whole before me, and I was taking it for
granted again, assuming that she'd always be there.
She walked into the large room softly, no trace of concern on her
features, but the worry residing permanently in her eyes.
I watched her apporach me, the way her lips pursed, her fingers clenched
into tight fists, and her eyes narrowed minutely.
She was always on edge with me, unsure of her place. I was too blind to
let her see how much I still, and always, needed her.
She glanced over at me from the desk she now had, and rose to meet me in
the space between.
I pulled her aside, to a small corner of the huge work area, away from the
noises and listening ears of the other agents.
"Scully. I want you to come with me," I said, and glanced around quickly.
"Mulder. . .what's going on?"
"I'm going back to the reactor. Number Four. Gibson is in there."
"Mulder!" she hissed at me, her face turning bright red.
She's embarassed.
Embarassed of *me.*
"Mulder, we were told to have no more to do with the X-Files. They could
*fire* you for this."
I shook my head, frustrated with her stubborness.
"Scully, I don't really care what they do to me. You said it before.
Gibson is the key to the X-Files; he can give us *scientific* proof."
"You weren't too interested in the scientific the other night, Mulder. As
I recall, you left with Agent Fowley."
Her words were acidic, biting into me.
"I had the chance to get more proof, Scully. More than what we had
already. Overwhelming evidence."
"Yes, but Mulder, we had enough in our hands to keep the X-Files open.
Instead, we lost everything."
She looked at me hard, her eyes telling me the things she could not say,
telling me that I was to blame for the X-Files being gone.
I wanted to hurt her then, to hurt her as much as her eyes were ripping me
apart.
"We did have enough. But somehow, I looked up and there was Gibson, our
sole piece of scientific proof, being dragged around by one of Them. You
had Gibson, Scully. I trusted you with that. Otherwise I wouldn't have
left."
She stared at me, her face closing down, her eyes no longer saying
anything to mine.
"I would think you would help out here, Scully," I said frantically,
needing her help in this.
"Why is that?" she said icily, her posture stiff and uncompromising.
I had lost.
"You lost Gibson, I would have thought you'd be the first to try and get
him back."
I turned and fled from her, pushing aside her hands as they reached for
me, and making it out of the room before she could see how much her
desertion hurt.
Of course, I hadn't been thinking at all how much I had hurt her.
~~~~
The Very End - Scully
~~~~
<You lost Gibson>
The words echo in my head like cannons erupting on the battle field.
I lost Gibson.
<Lab rat>
No. No, I don't think of him as a lab rat, not as someone else to exploit
for our cause.
Our cause.
Not even really mine anymore. Mulder has taken it back from me.
It's completely his, and not even his, at the same time.
It's Spender's and Diana's. Both of theirs, and they won't ever let us
have them back.
I meant what I said. I can't go back to a normal job after the X-Files, I
can't live a half life, where I know there are cruel forces at work out
there, forces that have killed my sister, and almost killed me many times.
But Mulder didn't choose me to continue on with him.
I am not of the X-Files any longer.
I fell for it once.
I won't again.
~~~~
The Beginning - Scully
~~~~
There was a brief moment when I looked at him, saw his unwavering ferocity
when confronted with such a hope as Gibson Praise, that I wanted to follow
him anywhere.
And then it was gone in the next instant.
He inspired unfathomable trust in me, and yet was unwilling to take from
those reserves, unwilling to allow it.
I felt like a traitor simply by his touch, felt like a whore by his look.
He made me into the enemy with one short phrase.
You lost Gibson.
I looked at him and wished it would all go away, wished this had never
happened, wished we were back to the summer and its worries about bees and
frostbite and an almost kiss.
Bees, frostbite and an almost kiss were minor compared to no X-Files, no
Mulder, and no trust.
I didn't keep the truth from him, he ought to at least give me that. I
told him about the DNA, about what that could mean to someone who believed
the virus to be extra-terrestrial.
And he turned on me for not trusting him.
And then he left me.
You lost Gibson.
I lost Gibson.
I lost the X-Files.
~~~~
The Middle - Mulder
~~~~
There is always that one instant that you can look back on and say
definitely, 'I went wrong right there.'
And then there is always the horrible rush of events and feelings where
you can never, never know exactly where it was you went wrong.
That's how it was.
I went wrong, or we went wrong and I'm not even sure where that was, but I
have the horrible feeling this is where *I* went wrong.
"Fox?"
I took her hand in mine and squeezed it tightly. "Thank you, Diana."
She glanced behind her, to the empty office that used to be mine.
"What for?"
"Protecting the X-Files. I know that's what you were doing, and I wanted
to let you know that I understand. If you hadn't pretended to catch me
there, then the X-Files would be in the sole hands of Spender, and we all
know how incapable he is."
Her eyebrows furrowed and she squeezed my hand back, then smiled
radiantly.
"I'm glad you realized that."
I should have known then what was going on, should have trusted Scully
over Diana, Diana who had left me when it seemed the X-Files were getting
too involved, Diana who had deserted me many times.
Scully had never deserted me when it wasn't in my best interest.
She had shot me, yes, and pulled me off a case, yes, but she thought, and
rightly so, it was only for my benefit.
I should have known, I so should have known.
I've lost it all now.
But that's ahead of the story.
Diana was smiling and I was smiling and I was even thinking of kissing
her, being so glad she was back, so glad I had someone who would listen to
me and understand and believe.
Most of all, believe.
I told her about going back to the Reactor, about being certain that
Gibson was in there, along with that alien beast, and I made her come
along with me.
I made my choice.
I made *our* choice, and lost it all.
~~~~
The Middle - Scully
~~~~
When Mulder didn't call that night, I knew he had gone alone.
Or, I thought he had gone alone.
I was angry, maybe a bit sad too, but not all that hurt, because he *had*
told me already, he had even asked for me to come along with him, but I
hadn't.
And so it was my fault that I sat alone in my apartment, worrying over
him like a mother over her son.
I decided to go to the Reactor this time, at least to keep him from
getting caught again.
When I drove up, it was silent and dark, the lights flickering like gas
lamps from long ago, and I slipped from the seat with as much stealth as I
could.
No movement.
The power plant had been opened again since the scare, but Reactor Room
Number Four was still closed, officially.
I knew that they'd still be using it though, shunting power through the
cooling systems. They had to, in order to keep Arizona lit through the
night.
I found Mulder's car after some searching, cursed him for not being
careful, and slithered under the fence in the hole Mulder had dug.
The grass was wet with dew and it soaked through my shirt, making my skin
damp and chilled. Seeing a guard circle around, I stopped and stayed very
still in the tall grass by the fence, breathing roughly through my mouth.
The man walked slowly and it took five minutes before I could start my
search again, crawling through the grass and soaking the knees of my pants
with mud and dew.
The air smelled of rain, a cold fall rain that would almost freeze before
it hit your face, and I wanted to get back in my car and turn up the
heater.
Something told me to keep going.
An itch formed at the back of my neck, a sort of mental prodding that made
my skin dance on edge and my nerves jump along the axons.
Something was wrong with Mulder.
He was going to get killed.
I could even see it, as if the waving of the grass in the wind was parting
before the falling body of my partner.
I shivered and crept to the reactor.
Just in time to hear gunshots.
~~~~
Running hurt, my lungs still not fully recovered since the virus, but I
dodged through the grass and barreled into the reactor room, gun drawn and
breath heaving.
Only to be bludgeoned by a vague impression, towering over me as I fought
to regain some sort of range of motion.
I couldn't find my fingers anymore, couldn't place words in my mouth or
strength to my muscles.
I quivered, and prayed Mulder was alright.
~~~~
The Middle - Mulder
~~~~
Gibson was there, fevered and sweating, his hands and face swollen from
dehydration, but he was alive.
I turned to rejoice with Diana, but she was gone.
And then I heard gunshots.
I pulled Gibson into my arms, afraid a guard had mistaken Diana for
something sinister, and ran off in the direction I thought escape might
be, hissing loudly for Diana.
I stopped short when I saw her.
She was holding her gun by the barrel, the butt out and shiny with
something that looked like blood or maybe dew, hands still trembling
slightly from exertion.
Scully was semi-conscious on the floor, eyes rolling and body shuddering
as she attempted to move away.
Her face turned toward mine and she saw me there, recognizing the boy
gripped in my arms, and that she was in trouble.
Diana turned to me, gun now steady, barrel pointing to the floor, eyes
cold and cruel.
"Sorry Fox, but I have to take Gibson now. If you come in with him,
they'll know you were here, and you'll get in trouble."
The smell of gas and heat tickled my throat and I shrugged off her
soothing, cool voice.
"Why'd you hit Scully?"
Diana seemed shocked. "I didn't. I found her like this. I heard those
gunshots and came in and she was on the floor."
"Why were you standing over her like that then?"
"Fox. I was checking to make sure she hadn't been shot."
That thought made me panic and I rushed over to Scully, shoving Gibson
into Diana's arms.
"Diana, we have to get her to a hospital."
"Mulder, we need to get Gibson to a hospital before that. You can't come
in with us or they'll know you were here. You don't want to lose the
X-Files completely do you?"
Scully. Scully told me I lost the X-Files.
"No. No. But Scully-"
"She'll be okay. Let us go on ahead. You wait for fifteen minutes and then
follow in Agent Scully's car. I'm sure she brought one out here."
I couldn't think straight. This sounded right. But it didn't.
I had to think of Gibson too. Gibson needed immediate attention.
I suddenly stood, shaking my head. "No, no. If we have Gibson, it's okay.
We'll have proof and they'll have to give us the X-Files back."
Her face turned hard, her always gentle smile was all at once viscious and
threatening. I fell back, tripping over Scully and hearing her groan.
Diana shook her head and pulled Gibson tighter into her arms.
"It's the best way, Fox. What if those gunshots was someone getting
killed? If it's known you were here, you could be blamed for it, Fox."
"Stop using my first name!" I said, rather foolishly and idiotically.
Her hand came up, as if to help me, and a flash of bright white, then
black filled my vision.
I felt my body crumple over Scully's, felt her wheezing under me, her
frantic motions to escape my weight, but I fell further into darkness.
Further into nothing.
~~~~
Near the End - Mulder
~~~~
There was a hearing, looking into the matter of two deaths on the
premises, guards shot just inside the reactor room where we were.
Diana was accused and she named me as her alibi; I backed her up.
Of course, there was that missing time where she wasn't there and then I
heard the shots, but she found Scully at that time, right?
I couldn't fit the times together straight in my head, and somehow I fell,
fell right on Scully.
Diana said I tripped over her, but I don't know.
And Gibson. . .he was taken again, right from the hospital Diana told me.
I believed her.
Scully told a different version.
Scully said she heard gunshots and came inside, and then was clubbed on
the back of the head by Diana, but she couldn't say that for sure, and I
corroborated Diana's account, so Scully's was dismissed.
Scully had been acting rather jealous of Diana lately anyway, although I
know she would never make up a story like that on purpose, her mind could
have wanted to believe that.
I was reprimanded for sixty days for blantantly disregarding the decisions
of the OPR, and then Scully was also sentenced the same amount.
They did not close down the X-Files because they agreed that a little
boy's life was in serious jeopardy, and that my actions might have been
warranted, since I took along Diana.
Diana had to play it out like I wouldn't tell her where we were going,
that I wouldn't tell her what I was thinking so that she wouldn't be found
in the wrong.
I understood. That's what had to be done to keep her on the X-Files.
I needed someone on them who believed as I did.
Scully didn't talk to me the entire time.
She shot me cold looks as I gave my testimony, and when she gave hers, she
kept looking at me as if I had betrayed her.
But she was telling it as she thought she knew, so I couldn't be angry at
her. I just wished she would realize her version of events was clouded by
her jealousy, her own biases.
After the last hearing, I caught up to her, grabbed her elbow to make her
turn around.
The wild look of pain and fear in her eyes made me yank my hand away.
"Don't touch me," she hissed, and strode quickly down the hall.
I stood there, stunned.
~~~~
Near the End - Scully
~~~~
He had turned.
I could see it in his face as he gave his testimony.
Testimony that made me look like a fool, made it look like I had rushed in
without cause or heed and fallen to the floor after tripping over my own
high heeled shoes.
In fact, he even brought that up.
"Sirs, Agent Scully also wears extremely high heeled shoes, which may have
hampered her ability to run, even though, to date, I have not seen such an
occurance."
I felt humiliated.
By my own partner, no less.
I wanted to both kill him or cry.
I didn't understand.
I tried to tell him that it had been Diana that night, of that I had no
doubt, but he wouldn't listen. He said I had been so out of it, so woozy,
that there'd been no way I could have known.
But I knew this.
I had seen Diana raise the gun and slam it into Mulder's forehead, felt
him fall on top of me and smother me.
I had seen this, and even half conscious, there was no mistaking it.
He didn't believe me.
That's what hurt the most.
He believed Diana over me.
Diana because they used to be lovers, Diana because she believed in his
ideas one hundred percent, without reservation.
She goaded him on, and I held him back.
He had only needed someone to be by his side; he hadn't needed me.
The X-Files were gone to us.
We'd never get our reputations back, never mind the X-Files.
It was all ruined.
I couldn't go back.
I wouldn't fall for it this time.
~~~~
End - Mulder
~~~~
She quit.
I can't believe it.
When I found out, I drove over to her apartment as quickly as possible,
taking the turns with tight speed, slipping on slick, rainy streets.
She wasn't going to open the door at first, so I got out the key and
turned it in the lock just as she opened the door.
She stares at me now, shaking her head.
"Scully."
"Don't come near me."
I stare at her for a moment, wishing this could be different.
"Scully. Why'd you quit?"
"We're not getting the X-Files back, Mulder. This is permanent. Maybe
you've turned, maybe you've decided you'll be better off fighting for them
instead of against them, but not me. I'm not letting them win. And this
time, quitting is the only way *to* win."
I grab her hands, sparking a tremor of fear in her. She quells it
abruptly, but I still see it.
"What? Are afraid of me?"
I watch her with disgusted fascination.
"You're one of them. You're helping them."
"Scully."
"I should never have trusted you, Mulder. How else would you have known
where to find me in Antarctica? How else could-"
"Scully, stop it. You can trust me. You can."
"You've been one of them the entire time."
"No! Scully, no!"
Where the hell is this coming from? Have they posioned her water too?
"Let go of me!" she shrieks, and darts to the living room, pulling her gun
from the coffee table with frightening speed.
"Scully. Scully. Calm down. I'm not one of them. I'm not. You can trust
me. I trust you, Scully. You're the only one I trust."
She has large alligator tears pooling in her eyes, but she refuses to cry.
"You don't trust me. You don't. I told you about Diana, and you didn't
believe me. You didn't trust me. She's against us, she set you up the
first time in that Reactor Room and she did it again, but you won't listen
to me, you won't believe me!"
"Scully. Scully. I believe you, I do. You think you saw that, but-"
"Mulder! Listen to yourself. You're working for them and you don't even
know it!"
I shake my head, inching towards her.
She's gone crazy. . . She has no idea what's reality anymore.
I have to get the gun, she's a danger to people.
"Scully, put down the gun. Let me talk to you. Let me show you how it is."
"Damnit! Don't come near me, Mulder. I'll shoot you. I swear it, I'll-"
Her frenzied words are cut short as I tackle her small frame, bringing her
to the floor in one easy swoop. The gun clatters to the hardwood, and I
grab it, but she pulls mine from my holster, points it in my face.
I freeze, sprawled on top of her, the gun in her hands dangerously shaky.
"Why are you doing this, Mulder? Why won't you trust me?"
I want to cry. This is my Scully and she's turned into a frightened child.
"Scully, Scully, I do trust you. I do."
She relaxes for an instant, and I realize this is it.
I swipe at my gun and it comes cleanly from her hands with a little gasp.
I jump up off her and hold both weapons lightly, ready on my feet.
She closes her eyes.
"Just kill me, Mulder. If that's what they've sent you for, just go ahead
and kill me."
I feel my body shaking, my head spinning.
Scully thinks I'm one of them.
She's lost it. She really truly has.
It was too much for her to absorb, too much truth for her to handle.
She couldn't let herself believe and it's killed her mind.
My beautiful, beautiful Scully.
<Oh Scully, please forgive me.>
I pick up the phone.
The ambulance is on its way.
~~~~
End - Scully
~~~~
I wish he could believe me.
Even now, I see he doesn't. I see that face that says he is merely
humoring me.
He has my gun and his.
He is one of them.
It's the only explanation.
The Mulder that was my friend would not be so blind to such an obvious
lie, to such an obvious manipulation.
My Mulder would know that Diana was playing him for the fool, and my
Mulder would believe me above all others.
He is calling someone, calling them to come get me.
I start to cry, wishing to be dead rather than a test subject for them.
I see his face breaking, his eyes sorrowed, and I think that maybe, maybe,
he will stop this madness, stop this right now.
Placing the guns on the floor far from me, he bends at the waist, watching
me.
Then he comes to me, pulling me deep into his arms, taking my body tightly
close to his, slipping his hands along my back.
I relax into him, half afraid he is going to turn back into one of them,
and half thrilled that he has understood.
"I"m so sorry, Scully. I'm so sorry," he murmurs.
"Do you believe me, Mulder?"
He looks into my eyes and lets his head fall forward, lets his lips touch
mine gently.
"I believe you Scully. I believe."
At that instant, men come through the door, cold faces, cold dead eyes.
I cower into Mulder, knowing he will protect me, knowing that my Mulder is
back, but he just stares at me with those same dead eyes.
I jump away, falling into a shadowed corner in a heap, heavy with his
betrayal.
My head bows, a sort of prayer.
In one final moment, I look up to Mulder, hoping against all hope.
I feel the men's hands on me, holding me down.
I look straight into Mulder's eyes.
<You lost Gibson>
The words echo in my head like cannons erupting on the battle field.
I lost Gibson.
<Lab rat>
No. No, I don't think of him as a lab rat, not as someone else to exploit
for our cause.
Our cause.
Not even really mine anymore. Mulder has taken it back from me.
It's completely his, and not even his, at the same time.
It's Spender's and Diana's. Both of theirs, and they won't ever let us
have them back.
I meant what I said. I can't go back to a normal job after the X-Files, I
can't live a half life, where I know there are cruel forces at work out
there, forces that have killed my sister, and almost killed me many times.
But Mulder didn't choose me to continue on with him.
I am not of the X-Files any longer.
I fell for it once.
I won't again.
~~~~
end
adios
RM
~~~~~~~~~~
"In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see
your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven."
--Matthew 5:16
Author: RocketMan >[email protected]<
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No infringement
is intended.
Dedication: This is for Lori, my manager, friend, and encourager while
we're at work. You have to put up with a lot, babe. Hope everything goes
well for you in your new job.
CONTENT::::M/S UST, This is SEASON 1, simply because it fits in better.
Scully is a bit more innocent, a bit more unsure of herself. Mulder still
isn't sure if he can completely trust her, but he knows she's important to
him and his work.
~~~~~
Shambles
~~~~~
"what does this mean
to see walking men
wrapped in the color of death,
to hear from their tongue
such difficult syllables?"
--Lucille Clifton, 'seeker of visions'
~~~~~
She walked through the door again with the tattered edges of her dignity
clutched in white knuckled fingers.
Slipping past his look, her eyes drifted off to the places her mind had
forged from harshly worded phrases and the accusations of jealous men.
Dana Scully could not tell him what she had heard.
She could not ask him to think of such things.
But the truth churned inside her like magma angry for lava, angry for
release, and she sank to the chair in front of his desk in surrender.
"Scully?"
It was a soft frightened sigh from his lips that reached into her,
plucking the harp string that sung now, the cord one of discontent, of
half assured fear.
"Yes."
She speaks hushed, cowed by the meeting she was called to only three hours
before.
Three hours.
It must have really been days to her, it must have been thirty years of
oppression and only now was she giving up her rebellion, only now.
"The meeting, Scully."
As if he would have to remind her.
He stood and crossed before her, to sit on his desk, so close, too close,
maybe.
Maybe he was always too close and only now would she notice this.
Before, it was simply Mulder.
Before.
Only now would this be a sure sign to her, only now would their words hurt
her.
"They. . .Mulder, they're accusing you of sexual harassment."
His eyes shaded over and his face reacted to her news with what she
thought was disbelief.
"What?"
His hands were catching the edges of the desk like a man drowning,
reaching for the edges of a rope that hadn't been tossed to him yet.
"Sexual harassment, Mulder. For three hours, they. . .tricked me."
Now it was betrayal, echoed by her own eyes, reflected in his set mouth,
tensed shoulders.
"Tricked." he said hollowly.
She didn't want to be saying this to him, and she didn't want or
understand the full consequences yet.
"Their questions didn't lead there at first. They were innocent, although
strange. I didn't think they'd take my words and twist them. . .twist them
to that."
"What are you talking about?!" he cried and lurched on the desk, his face
so close, too close.
Her flinch made him stop, horrified.
"You think I harass you. You think they're right." There was no question.
He couldn't believe it.
He felt crushed, lost, desparate.
The truth. The truth.
She couldn't answer.
He leaned back, away, closed down the parts of him that depended upon her
acceptance of him, which meant he was little or nothing at all.
Grabbing his coat, Fox Mulder shut the door on his partnership.
Shut the door with the intention of forever.
~~~~~
"I did not want to be stuck one second longer than I had to be there,
stuck inside the door.
I'm always scared I'll slam my fingers in the door,
Cause the last time that I left I slammed my fingers in the door.
When you want to get out, you get up, and walk straight to the door."
--Lisa Loeb, 'Split Second'
~~~~~
When she walked in again, (again, it was always again,)
when she walked in *again*
there was no dignity to clutch with the white knuckled fingers that fisted
in the air.
She sat down in his chair and mindlessly shuffled the papers around on his
desk, ignoring the heavy scrawl that made her want to curl up and cry for
him, for them, for what she hadn't meat to do, but had anyway.
She picked up the phone and dialed his home number again, again, she was
always repeating her actions, hoping that once, just one time, he would
actually be there.
Praying, praying, she listened to the machine Mulder call out a monotone
version of her own machine Scully and begged him to answer.
She was startled when a hiss sounded over the line and she realized that
he had yanked the answering machine from the socket, just to rid himself
of her voice.
Replaying all that was said that afternoon, she attempted to understand
what had been wrong with it all.
It was so obviously a set up, an attempt to get the X-Files shut down, or
at least have Mulder's reputation and hers ruined, that she couldn't
understand why Mulder was going along with it.
Why didn't he rage into the night about his personal persecution?
Did he think he had harassed her? Did he think that she thought he did?
She didn't know if he had or not.
The conditions they laid out, the very clear terms of 'hostile
environment' that the committee had spelled out for her, it all could be.
. . it had the possibility of looking that way.
Did he harass others?
Certainly, it was part of his job, of their job. They had to harass
suspects, sexually if that's what it meant, make things uncomfortable,
even for victims, if that's what was needed to solve the case.
These things they could argue.
But the things she had unwittingly admitted to could not be construed any
differently.
Hostile . . .he had been hostile to her before.
He had said things to her, made her uncomfortable, but she could take it.
She'd gotten it before. And with Mulder it was different.
How could a committee understand that?
They didn't and wouldn't and because of her idiocy, Mulder would not speak
to her.
The hand on her back.
<hostile>
The lips near her ear.
<hostile>
The look that undressed her.
<hostile>
The touch along her side.
<hostile>
The words......
the words that could take her from strong and callous and hard, to weak
and ill and soft all in the space of a phrase, a gentle whisper.
And it was all, all, counted as sexual harassment.
But she would not press charges, she could not.
This was Mulder, this was what she *liked* and that's what frightened her
the most.
That he would know this, know that his touches, his words, comforted her,
held her together, gave her the weakness that kept her from being too
unfeeling, kept her from eroding away inside.
If he knew such a thing, he wouldn't understand, he would see it as
weakness only, a weakness that could not be tolerated.
Not by a partner, not for a spy....
She had so much to prove to him, and this could not help at all......
A memory flashed through her and she sank into the desk top, cradling her
head.
A motel, a blackout, and mosquito bites that had scared her more than she
was ready to admit.
He surely thought she had set him up, now. With such an event, so recent,
too odd for a new female partner to trust him. . .
He thought she had set him up, pulled him into a plot to shut him down.
And what nagged at her the most, what made her shake, was that he was not
fighting.
He was not fighting them.
He wasn't fightig her.
Betrayed, beaten, hurt by his only friend.
That was what he thought, and in so many ways, it was true.
She'd been stupid, she had seen things, known things about his work, and
still, she had let those men trap her into saying things that could be
twisted to hurt him.
She'd hurt him.
It was all her fault.
He'd never trust her again.
~~~~~
"Life's the fruit she longs to hand you
Ripe on a plate. And while you live,
Relentlessly she understands you."
--Phyllis McGinley, 'The Adversary'
~~~~~
The door was growing harder as she pounded on it, her fist more numb,
fingers more bruised.
She wanted to sob, but she couldn't let him see her, hear her weak.
If he saw that, he'd never let her in again.
Again. Everything in her life happened in rounds.
She could remember her father's anger, pounding on his door, begging to be
understood for such a decision, such a choice as the FBI, and his resolute
silence.
Like Mulder's silence now.
And her father loved her, her father cherished her, and Mulder.. . .
Mulder thought her a spy.
What chance did she have now?
She pounded harder, not seeking to be understood, merely forgiven and
tried again.
If anything, she never wanted him to understand her. Such a thing was too
frightening, too close to real and pain and love and she could not do
those emotions, those things again.
Again.
<But things in her life happened in rounds.>
Was she already loving him, real to him, in pain for him?
She knocked again, feeling her throat choke on sobs, struggling for all
her strength to keep her own self out of this.
She couldn't be caught caring for him, not when he thought she was a spy.
"Mulder. . .Mulder."
It was a litany on her tongue now, rambling from her mouth in no conscious
thought to get it there, only in the desparation of her innocence.
She wanted to explain to him, wanted to make him understand, she realized
this now.
Just like her father, his silence spoke things that she did not want to
hear.
"Mulder, please. . ."
She felt the sob and heard it escape and she hated herself for it, and
scratched at her eyes with a broken fist, and a broken will.
She turned, to cleave herself of him once and for all, telling herself
that this was unsalvagable, this was dead between them, whatever she had
hoped was growing was stagnant, shrivelling.
And the door opened.
She stayed perfectly still, eyes squeezed shut, tears forced back to the
choked up place in her chest that hid her crying until there was a better
time, a more appropriate place.
He stood there, watching her back shake as she controlled herself again,
wondering what it was in her that made her so determined.
She had not lost a sister.
She could not know that kind of motivation.
Yet she was in his hall, had been for hours, slamming a weak fist into his
door.
He would not move to her; he was wary.
She turned, eyes bright, face young and too hard for such a beautiful
smile that tried to struggle forward.
"I . . ."
She stopped, suddenly surprised.
She hadn't thought through this far.
"I didn't think you'd open the door."
"I didn't think you'd cry."
Her back tensed and she bit the inside of her cheek.
He sighed. "Is that something you termed 'hostile work environment, Agent
Scully? Because maybe crying is a sexually oriented activity and so
therefore, if I speak about it, I'm harassing you?"
She was furious now.
He wouldn't even listen to her before lashing out.
"I never said anything like that. They asked me questions about working
with you. I thought they were trying to see how I was, being a relatively
new agent, maybe attempt to head off any problems before they got started.
See if I could handle it. I *can* handle it. They twisted my words around.
They-"
"You said those words."
She wanted to hit him, to slap his face and make him see.
Make him understand.
"No! I didn't say it like they said I did. I meant it as good. I meant for
them to see how. . ."
Her words choked away.
She stopped.
"See what?" he asked, leaning back, as far from her as possible.
He would think her weak, needy; he would think that he had to protect her
all the time, that she needed him.
Or he could continue to think she was a spy.
"I meant for them to see. . ."
She took a breath, closed her eyes for a second, trying to recall her
father's face when she had ended up begging his forgiveness.
Such disappointment in his eyes, when she had begged, such sorrow that she
would let herself do that.
She still had to prove herself to her daddy time and time again.
She had to prove herself to Mulder now.
Saying this might prove only one thing - that she was weak.
Too weak to be of any help to him.
"Nothing."
She whispered the word and turned in the hall, biting the inside of her
cheeks to keep from crying, shoving it back into the place in her that
kept her tears.
When she got to the car and realized he had not come after her, had not
tried to listen, she sank into the seat and lowered her head to the
steering wheel.
The tears had been pushed so far back, that they would not come out.
She shivered.
It was the first that she could not cry.
The first time that the tears did not come.
The first time she felt the gaping hole where her tears had slid down, the
broken shambles of herself that had cracked as she denied her feelings,
denied herself.
She could not cry.
~~~~~
adios
Author: RocketMan >[email protected]<
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is
intended.
"But you're going to have to hold on,
hold on,
Or we're going to have to move on,
move on."
--Cranberries, 'Ridiculous Thoughts'
~~~~~
Her bed was too hard, her pillow made her head ache with a thundering kind
of pain, one that said she hadn't cried, and needed to.
Standing, refusing to stay in bed, sleepless, she shivered in the chill
and tiptoed to the thermastat, fiddling with it and hoping she still had
heat.
The dark night was soft lit by the blankets of cloud reflecting the
street's eery glow, the natural design of city lights and apartment
buildings.
She watched the absence of activity on the sidewalks, the flickering of
shadows as homeless people turned in their sleep, and wished she had
managed the strength to tell Mulder.
How she had tried to make them see how comfortable she was with him.
How she had wanted to show them how wonderful an angent he was, how great
a mentor, how inspiring a human being.
How beautiful a man with a determination that left her raw.
She closed the curtains and walked to the closet, dragging on jeans and a
heavy sweater, then her coat, thinking nothing and knowing that she dared
not try to examine this right now.
=====
The door came open immediately, with her own wince as she split open the
bloodied heel of her hand, and his surprise.
She was equally surprised he was up and opening the door to her.
He sighed at the question in her eyes.
"I was waiting for the Chinese takeout guy. . ."
She gave him a brief smile. "Can I come in?"
He paused, as if he had to *think* about it.
"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" he said finally.
"Shouldn't you?"
Her own courage was frightening her.
"No," he said pointedly. "I try not to."
Her face softened with his words, open curiousity on her face.
"Why not?" she asked, stepping forward.
"Am I going to need my attorney present for this conversation?"
He regretted his words as the pain lanced across her face.
She felt the tightening in her chest and had to clamp down again on her
tears.
"I just don't Agent Scully."
That hurt just as much as his biting remarks.
"You can call me Dana," she said softly.
At the look on his face she shook her head.
"Scully. . ." she said then and glanced back at him.
He nodded. "Scully."
"Mulder . . . what I couldn't tell you before . . .somehow I've found the
courage. . . maybe the stupidity to tell you now."
He said nothing, his face gave her no ideas.
"I was trying to make them see. . .see how you've changed me. . .taught me
more in a few months than I could ever have learned on my own."
It wasn't what she wanted to say . . .
She did not drop her gaze, simply stared back at him with clear eyes that
did not beg, did not plead for his understanding.
She could do this. She could tell him the truth and have him see her words
as the truth without fear.
It mattered to her what he thought, but she would not be ashamed, would
not fear, the truth.
His face was breaking down, his eyes swimming, his mouth quirking.
He gently took her arm, reflex more than anything, and simply watched her.
He was studying her, she thought, he was making sure this was the truth,
deciding even now if he could trust her.
"I'm not against you, Mulder. I want the truth just as much as you."
He was again surprised at her determination, at the fount of strength
welling in her that seemed to come from nowhere. No sister had been taken
from her, no life ruined.
And yet, such resolve for the same quest he had embarked upon, equal
measure intelligence and uncompromising persistence.
"Mulder?" she asked, looking up at him.
"What am I going ot do?" he said softly.
It had been on his mind all day, rotted through his soul all night.
She blinked, turned around by his words. She had been expecting
confirmation of her words, some kind of emotion or revelation in turn.
She shook her head. This was Mulder. He was not emotional, nor revealing,
unless he was entering the mind of a killer, the soul of a psycho.
"Scully, this could destory me. People get smeared, ground into the dirt
with accusations like this. Ts never recover."
She bit back her anger, tried hard to be good now, to be worthy of the
forgiveness he had instilled in her once more. She had screwed up, and he
was taking her back.
But her anger overflowed.
"Yes, I suppose it could destory you, Agent Mulder. It could also destroy
me. You think I'll ever be trusted again, by anyone in the government?
They'll see me as you do, a spy. A betrayal to-"
"Scully."
She stopped, her mouth closing as she realized she had gone off on him for
something he could not control.
"Scully. I do *not* see you like that."
She paused.
Did not. . . .not see her like. . . what?
"But I. . .I gave them everything they needed to shut you down. . .I fell
right into their trap and-"
He took her shoulder in one thin fingered hand and squeezed it softly.
"I tried to blame you for that, Scully, believe me. It doesn't work."
He shrugged and moved to the couch.
She stood there, staring after him, wondering where exactly that left them
now.
"So, what am I - we - going to do?"
His face turned to hers in the darkness of his apartment, the moon casting
shadows of fright across his nose and cheeks, and the still air kissing
his lips with the hint of chill.
She wanted to shiver and run home to her own bed, jump into it's warmth
and blankets and never come out again.
Again.
But she elaborately shrugged her shoulders and went to sit in his
armchair, placing herself gingerly down with as much dignity as she could.
She found it clutched in her hands, slightly tattered and torn, but
wearable, usable.
Making a fist, she curled her legs under her body and stared over at him.
"We'll think of something, Mulder."
He glanced off into space and his own hands twitched, searching for his
own dignity among the cobwebbed corners of his empty apartment.
"Mulder, you probably don't need to be told this, but you don't mistreat
me. I've never had any complaint for the way you respect me."
She gazed at him, eyes bright again, speaking truths that he caught hold
of tightly, taking them deep inside, to places where he stored away these
moments.
His hands were full.
She came and sat down next to him, the couch dipping down with the slight
weight of her body and the air he breathed suddenly light.
"All I want is the truth," he whispered. "Is that so much to ask?"
~~~~~
end all
adios
RM
Author: RocketMan >[email protected]<
DIsclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is
intended.
Please read Shambles I to understand.
~~~~~
Shambles II
~~~~~
"Drag this neurotic to hysterics Leave him
balked and unfulfilled holding inside outward-
ly patient 'till the time he'll call it Alluring
exotic twisted hero Leaving him more lonely. . ."
--'How Much Longer' Eve 6
~~~~~
The room was too cold that morning and she twisted in her seat as Mulder
came in, late as usual, his tie skewed from the straight lines of his lean
body.
She turned around front to face the inquisition, her mouth pursed, eyes
narrowed, and posture unforgiving.
Chief Blevins sat at the head of the table, his eyes old and blood shot,
mouth worked into a kind of unforgiving frown as he stared Mulder down.
Mulder seemed to be unaffected.
She wanted to scream. When she had left his apartment at one that morning,
they still had no idea what to do.
Crazy thoughts had surfaced in her mind, then run rampant as she imagined
the panel's reaction if she said such things.
Everything from 'we're secretly married' to 'Mulder was replaced with
clones' had taken residence in her head and the one she liked best was the
first.
However, she had a feeling that would be even more detrimental.
Skinner had not been invited to the meeting, she saw, and Blevins' friends
were perched in their chairs like vultures circling potential road kill.
Scully waited, body tensed and ready to pounce, to beat back their twisted
lies with her own logic, her own sense of decency. They could not do this
to them. Not when they'd only been paired for a few months.
Blevins was watching her from the head of the table, as if determining
whether or not she was on their side. Her glare made him hastily avert his
eyes.
He cleared his throat to gain the attention of the quietly talking
members, glancing over his shoulder at the older gentleman who had
stationed himself against the wall, smoking a cigarette.
Then, with a grandfatherly voice, he said, "We've called only a few
members of the Office of Proffessional Conduct in order not to waste the
time of others, and maybe get to the bottom of this matter faster. Now, in
regards to Agent Scully's testimony and subsuquent -"
Scully interrupted. "Sir, I do not believe I testified at any moment to
you or anyone else about Agent Mulder."
"Agent Scully, we will get to the bottom of these allegations quickly if
you will-"
"Sir, I'm sorry. Allegations?"
"Yes. According to your testimony and eyewitness accounts-"
"Sir, is there an official charge against my partner?"
Mulder glanced over at her for the first time, his look clearly telling
her to quit questioning the Section Chief: she could get blasted.
"Yes, Agent Scully, by yourself, if I-"
"Oh? Well then, sir, I believe we can get to the bottom of this much
quicker than we all expected. I have no charge against Agent Mulder and
whatever allegations you may have can be dropped. Now, I'm sure we all
need to get back-"
"Agent Scully. You will remain quiet for the duration of this inquiry and
wait until you are called upon to give a reply."
Mulder might have laughed at the look of fury etched on her face, and at
the way her mouth dropped open with Blevins demand.
Except this wasn't funny.
"What?!" she said, her presence looming in the room. She could command an
audience, for he sure did want to reach over and smooth her ruffled
feathers.
"The OPC recognizes the level of danger to your job that such allegations
would pose, therefore, your assignment is being taken under my authority,
so that Agent Mulder or others may not blackmail you into dropping the
charges."
"But there were no charges made in the first-"
"Agent Scully! You will cease talking this instant."
Closing her mouth, Scully slumped in her seat, defeated for the moment.
They were trumping up some false charge and laying it at her feet.
"Agent Mulder, we are here today to understand whatever unappropriate
behavior may have occurred in your office, or in the field. Due to the
sensitive nature of this investigation, we ask that you refrain from
bursting out as your partner has done, and that you keep all emotions in
check."
Mulder simply nodded.
"Would you describe for us the nature of your partnership with Agent
Scully?"
Mulder seemed calm, in control of himself.
Scully was ready to scream at Blevins, or else, speak up and make him see
that nothing was wrong, that Mulder had never, never harassed her.
"Our partnership is only a few months old, as you know, Section Chief, and
so we are not as close as some."
Scully glanced quickly to him, crushed just a bit at his words, although
she knew she shouldn't be.
"We work well together, with her more practical approach to solving cases
and my more. . . out there methods. I hold a great deal of respect for her
as a person, and as a doctor, and her abilities and insights are
invaluable to me."
Scully wanted to smile broadly at him, wanted to take his hand and squeeze
it tightly, let him know how much his words meant to her. To know that he
valued her rather closed minded view on their work.
She always thought she held him back.
"How do you spend time with her in the field?"
Mulder seemed confused by the question. "How? On the case. Doing the job."
Blevins shook his head, as if that was not what *he* had heard.
"In one instance did you not stay in your room the entire night, Agent
Mulder? And did not Agent Scully come to you in only her bathrobe?"
Scully's mouth dropped again, remembering their first case, but furious
that Blevins was using that to indict Mulder. That was certainly not
anything at all related to him harassing her.
"I don't see how that's relevant. She came because the lights went out.
She wanted to know if I had some candles or our flashlights because she
couldn't find either. We ended up talking about the case."
She sighed. It was a lie, but only roundabout.
She had come because the lights went out; she'd been spooked. And they had
ended up talking about the case . . . sort of.
"We have reason to suspect your attitude in the field, Agent Mulder, from
some very reliable sources."
At Blevins words, a tape recorded voice echoed eerily from the speakers
set about in the room.
"Does it make you uncomfortable while on a case?"
It was Blevins' voice, a question Dana remembered well. She grew furious
because she knew what her reply was.
"Yes. I guess so, sometimes-"
And the tape was cut off quite abruptly.
Mulder was staring over at her; she felt crushed.
"Play the part before that tape, Sir. You know that wasn't whatg about. We
were talking about methods! Not harassment. . .this is quite illegal. You
never once said I was being taped, and you have taken my words completely
out of context."
Scully had stood somewhere in her fury, brows knitted together in a kind
of mental pain as she remembered more of her conversation and the many,
many things that she'd said that could be used against them.
Blevins was looking at her in shocked vehemence, his eyes wide and face
red.
She pulled away from the table, shoving her chair angrily in, and turned
on her heel.
"I won't sit here and let you use my words against us."
She looked once to Mulder, then began to walk out, knees jelly filled and
stomach tensed for the sound of the Section Chief's rage to belittle her
once again, like her father's punishments.
As she got to the door, it closed behind her heavily, sounding like a
prison door slamming on her future.
She had probably single-handedly thrown her career away.
Suddenly feeling sick, she slumped against the wall, then hung her head,
taking in short deep breaths.
The door slipped open and she jerked to a standing position, turning to
face whoever came out, determined to be strong.
It was Mulder.
He was smiling at her.
"I walked out."
He nodded. "Yes, you sure did."
She clutched her hands together to keep them from shaking.
"I . . .what did they say?"
He smiled brighter and took one of her hands, pulling her along with him
as he began walking back to the elevator.
"They hate you." he said and grinned like a fool.
She closed her eyes and slumped a bit more, sighing.
"Isn't this great?" he chortled, then led her into the elevator car and
pushed the button for the basement.
"No!" she said, slumping to the wall panel.
"Scully. . . that was awesome. They were stunned. But I was kidding. They
don't hate you . . . I don't think. "
"Mulder, I'm going to fired, you know that."
"No way, you were right. The entire thing was bogus and they know it. I
mean, it would never be allowed in court like that. You didn't know you
were being taped, they're using excerpts that aren't even relevant. . ."
The doors opened and he pulled her from the car, then placed his hand on
the small of her back, rubbing his fingers up and down her spine.
"So what did you mean by uncomfortable?" he said, suddenly serious and
pensive.
His face was guarded, arm stiff, but his fingers still soothing her.
"Not you. . .just the methods, the things we have to deal with," she said
softly, realizing that this was probably something she didn't want to have
to tell him, but that she now had to.
"It *should* make you uncomfortable. The things we deal with are inhumane,
Scully."
She was relieved that he did not think any less of her for it.
"Scully?"
She glanced up at him as he ushered her into the basement office, taking
deep breaths as his heat sidled close to her, calmed her tensed body.
"I . . . what you did in there. . . no one's ever done that for me."
He turned away quickly, sitting at his desk, hiding his face.
She watched him, stunned.
No one?
~~~~~
"And I'd be lying if I said
I had not tried to leave a time or two
But every road that leads me
Leads me back to you."
--'Every Road' Amy Grant
~~~~~
She was bothered by his last words to her.
In the waning light of their basement office, his fingers snapping out a
constant rhythm on the keyboard, she watched him concentrate on everything
except her.
She wanted to ask him why no one had ever done that for him.
She would do it for him again, and again, and forever.
He was. . .more. . .she could not explain it right.
Just more. More wonderful, more good, more honest and innocent and naive
and caring and hopeful and even trusting.
He trusted her, and she wasn't so sure she'd have the strength to trust
anyone if the same had been done to her.
He deserved to have someone stick up for him.
She sighed and tried to return her mind back to the paperwork before her,
attempting to derail her thoughts from him.
She always tried to mother him, and he always refused it.
The lights flickered for a moment and he looked up, just as she did.
Her eyebrows rose and she smiled at him.
"No theory?" she said lightly, pausing in her work.
He was staring at her. "Nope."
She felt the awkwardness and glanced back to her makeshift work station,
the table slightly rickety and piled high with his files and scraps of
information.
"Scully?"
She sighed and refused to look up. "Yes?"
"Let's get out of here."
She was surprised and looked up, meeting his eyes.
"What?"
"Let's go get some dinner."
She paused and put her pen down, then slid back from the table.
"Okay," she said softly and stood, smiling suddenly, a dazzling grin that
made him grin back reflexively.
He relaxed and took her arm, then led her from the basement, to the
elevator.
"My treat, Scully."
~~~~~
As she unlocked her apartment door the smell of hyacinth wafted out at
them, making a wonderful welcome.
He came in behind her and pushed her through the door, then grabbed her
arm and took her coat and his own to hang up in the closet.
She went into the kitchen and hastily grabbed a bag of popcorn, then
shoved it in the microwave, setting the timer.
He came in behind her and sank against the counter, and she turned to face
him.
"Thanks for dinner, Mulder. That was a great place."
He nodded and smiled softly at her, his eyes dark and unreadable.
She wanted to smile, to well up with bursting bubbles of happiness for the
way he was paying attention to her, smiling at her, enjoying her company.
He acted like what she said mattered; he respected her opinion while still
disagreeing with it.
And she found she liked arguing with a man who knew when to shut up and
when to press the conversation.
She pulled the popcorn from the microwave and yanked on the edges, letting
it cool off before eating it.
He grabbed the bag and set it down on the counter behind him.
She frowned, wondering at his actions, then stiffened as he snaked an arm
around her waist and pulled her against him for a quick hug.
Before she could relax, he let her go and smiled almost coyly.
She peered up at him, still close, still feeling the warmth of his chest
seep through her.
"Thanks, Scully. This has been great."
She smiled but felt her confidence waver.
He couldn't be . . . he didn't harass her. . .he didn't.
He led them into the living room and sat her down on the couch while he
messed with the VCR. The movie appeared and he jumped back and onto the
couch beside her.
When he felt her stiffen again beside him, he pulled away quickly, a small
look of panic crossing his features.
"I'm not. . .bothering am I? Just tell me Scully. I don't want to make you
uncomfortable."
She swallowed her earlier feelings and guilt blossomed within. He was
being nice, respectful, keeping her feelings above his as always.
"No, you're not at all bothering me. I'm just. . .tense a little."
"Because of me?"
She wanted to crawl away to the other side of the couch, but she forced
her body to relax against the cushions.
"No. The whole day has been. . .strange. Exciting and frightening at the
same time."
She looked up at him, complete trust radiating from her, and he nodded
softly.
"I should go."
She wanted him to go. She wanted to crawl back within herself for awhile,
find a place to assimilate everything that had happened.
"You don't have to."
She didn't really know him. That's what kept flooding through her mind.
She didn't really know him.
"I'll let you sleep. You did a lot today. Vanquished the enemy and put up
with me all through dinner."
She shook her head. "I enjoyed dinner. It was fun, Mulder. I wish we did
that more often."
He glanced at her. "We can."
Her mind was screaming 'too much, too much' but her heart was beating
rapidly. All the new feeling welling up in her were conflicting,
confusing. She wanted to curl up and ride them through.
His hands found her neck and began massaging gently, making her relax
involuntarily. Her father used to do this to her all the time; coax her
into a drowsy mood after studying or maybe when she couldn't seem to fall
asleep.
He pushed her down the couch and she fell into the cushions willingly,
amazed that this felt so good now, when before, his hug had thrown her
off.
Soon, her eyes had drifted shut and her entire body had relaxed into
softness. His hands trailed down her back and poked at the muscles running
along her spine, then dug hard into the ones at her shoulder blades.
Just as she was about to fall asleep, he bent down and kissed her
forehead.
"Good night, Scully." he whispered and pulled the afghan off the back of
the couch and onto her body.
"G'night," she mumbled and fell into sleep.
He quickly left her apartment, managing to lock the door behind him.
~~~~~
end II
adios
RM
So It Goes (1/1)
Date sent: Thu, 21 May 1998 20:01:26 +0000
Author: RocketMan >[email protected]<
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe
intended.
SPOILER:::::THE END::::::US5
So It Goes
====
' "All the real soldiers are dead," she said. It was true. So it goes.'
--Slaughterhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut
====
So it goes.
She was numb and he was cold and they stood there like idiots waiting
for someone to come along and ruin the moment, or maybe waiting for
someone to come along and get embarassed and leave them alone again.
All that happened was she got very annoyed with his just standing there
when all she was asking for was his arms to thread around her, to tell
her that maybe something was left after this.
Fire was horrible, he thought.
It was all he could think.
Fire is horrible.
She couldn't see them in the future together, as always. She couldn't
find that picture of them in her heart that she always carried around
where they were old and wrinkled and sitting on the porch or in an
asylum, telling each other old ghost stories to keep their minds sharp -
but their minds had been long gone anyway.
That picture was gone. Just like their office. All the real things were
dead.
So it goes.
She wanted him to touch her so she could know that he wasn't some sick
illusion creatd by her mind for the past five years - an illusion that
seemed to care for her. Seemed to.
He was frozen.
Wasn't that usually her part?
After standing there, numb and rebuked, she felt the ash collect in her
eyes and the smoke cloud her lids and raw tears finally fell.
He then wrapped his arms around her briefly, closing his eyes and
feeling like a pervert as he noticed the way her hair was a breath of
fresh air.
So it goes.
She sighed and looked back at him, thankful he had finally noticed her.
His eyes were no longer that pitiful shade of nothing black, but instead
they were a hopeless shade of elusive brown. Not much better.
His hands came to her face and just as he wanted to kiss her, someone
did come in a ruin the moment and he was grateful to the fireman because
he really didn't want to have to kiss her in the ruined, smelly,
destroyed basement office that had now come to symbolize their defeat.
So it goes.
He pulled her out of the way of the fire crew and pushed her back
through the door, knowing that neither one of them needed to look at
this right now.
She was talking softly and he leaned in close to hear her.
"I thought before was bad. When I thought they'd split us up, that we'd
be stuck with other partners . . . but this is worse. So much worse."
He shook his head and sighed a bit, fingering a stray, smoky smelling
lock of her hair.
She pulled back and frowned at him.
"Mulder, don't you see?"
"I see. I wish I didn't."
She bit her lip and raised her eyebrow and did all the Scully things he
expected her to do.
But he didn't want the Scully/Mulder things right now.
She followed him to his car and he drove back to their apartment under
her watchful, concerned, utterly detatched doctor eye.
Inside, she sat back down on the chair and he flopped back on the couch
and wondered if his apartment was suitable for a first kiss.
A first kiss where they could smell the smoke in each other's clothes,
feel the grittiness of ash as they tried to forget the horror.
He sat up and she came to sit next to him.
Neither had much hope in this, but they kissed anyway.
So it goes.
Nothing much: they were numb and feeling the loss of a hollowed out pit
in their guts on top of the fact they eached blamed themselves for the
X-Files being gutted.
So it goes.
He sighed and they apologized with their eyes and he drew her against
his chest and laid back down, surrendering to the exhaustion that lay
within him.
She snuggled down into the crack between him and the back of the couch
and closed her eyes.
Of course, she was still thinking.
"Mulder, did you and Dianna-"
"Not now, Scully. Not now. I can't even begin to think."
She was silent and listened instead to his heart slow as he drifted off.
She wanted to know, but-
So it goes.
She had a horrible feeling everything would hit them tomorrow, when they
woke together, reeking of smoke and bad sour memories of twisting metal
and burned leather chairs.
<You are here> his post-it note had said.
And that was about all they could deal with at the moment.
So it goes.
~~~~
end
adios
RM
Some Gift (1/1)
Date: Tue, 26 May 1998 20:58:45 +0000
Author: RocketMan >[email protected]<
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe
intended.
Summary: Post-EMILY::::::SPOILER FOR US5::::::::
Dedicated to Anne, for this poem and the encouragement.
Some Gift
=====================
"To Evan"
"I wanted to give him some gift,
The breath of my breath, the look of my eyes. . .
Small child dying slowly,
With brave blue intelligent eyes. . .
Tenacious life in this little form
That will soon vanish from it entirely. . .
Breath of my breath, the look of my eyes,
This is all upon earth, under heaven
I can give him, a child dying, and I unwise. . .
Farewell, fair spirit. . .
I pass away silently and see him no more."
~Richard Eberhart
====================
It was awful, the way her body was so still on the bed and lying there
limp even though, techincally, she was still alive.
No smiles even before this, so no smiles now.
She hadn't even looked faintly amused when Mulder had cracked the Potato
face on her in an attempt to show Scully that he was cool with the idea
of her having a daughter, when in fact it scared him crazy.
Scully did not equate with a little three-year old in his mind.
But watching through the door, acting as both a guard and perhaps,
father, he could feel the lifelessness of the place, of the tiny child
unmoving in there.
Scully was draped across her as if she could shield Death's greedy hands
from her little girl.
He rose and opened the door and she jerked awake, raising up and
blinking and twisting to see him.
She did not move from her place on the bed, but sat dry eyed there,
watching him just as he had been watching her.
"I wish it could be different." he said.
She gave him a withering look that made him wince.
"Sorry, I'm not too sure what to say, Scully."
"She's dying, Mulder. She's mine yet she's not mine and she's dying
because of it. She didn't ask to have this happen to her. . . "
"I know. I know. And I wish . . . I wish you could take her home, raise
her with all that love I see in you."
Scully kind of reeled away from his words and placed a shaking hand to
Emily's forehead. "She keeps getting hotter and hotter. I give her the
baths that are supposed to take her temp down, but nothing works,
Mulder. Nothing works. I can't do anything to help her. She's my little
girl and I'm a doctor, but I'm powerless."
He crawled up and sat down beside her, placing one hand on Emily's leg,
and the other reached for Scully's fingers.
If things were normal, or hell, if Emily were just okay, he'd offer to
help raise Emily, help get her custody and build a real life.
He needed a real life and so did she. A real life before this all got
crazy and way too much for them.
A new nurse walked in, her face so fresh Scully bet she had just
graduated from nursing school that morning. The woman had put on a
falsely sad face that showed she had not been working in Peadiatric ICU
for long.
"Ms. Scully, I-. Oh. Is this your husband? Emily's father?"
The look of fake pity given to him made his stomach curl and he felt
like throwing the idiot out of the entire hospital, but mostly it was
his grief thinking.
Scully said nothing so neither did he and he got the feeling she was
trying to unnerve fresh face.
"Anyway, Mr. and Ms. Scully. It appears that Emily's heart rate is going
down and well . . . she doesn't have long."
To hear such awful news from such an insensitive woman made Mulder half
rise to slap her, but Scully put a hand on his arm and he simply stared
murderously at fresh face until the woman left.
He turned to Scully and caught her just as she fell toward him,
trembling.
"It's not right, this isn't right at all." she said.
He admired her for still being there, let alone the way she was letting
all this swirl around in her. She normally didn't allow emotions to
surface, but tonight, he had the rare gift of seeing Dana.
He'd give it back if it meant having Emily.
"Oh Mulder, I'm so sorry."
Her words did not make sense and he simply watched her run her fingers
through Emily's sweaty hair.
"If someone told me that by killing myself, I'd save her, I'd do it. I'd
kill myself and not even think about it."
He felt his heart split.
He grabbed her shoulders and held her close to him, supporting her even
as she slumped into herself.
"If you did, Scully. I'd take care of her. I would devote my life to
it."
She glanced up at him and he saw the struggle across her face to not
simply bawl in front of him.
"I know," she whispered.
He saw the stray tears squeeze from her eyes and the way her glance
always flickered to the heart moniter, to make sure.
He decided he should leave.
"I'll let you be alone." he whispered, and moved to stand.
She grabbed his hand.
"Please don't leave me." she whispered.
It was about the smallest gift he could give her right now, but also the
only one within his power.
He sat back down on the other side of Emily, holding one of Scully's
hands as she clasped a slack one of Emily's and he did the same.
"We're her family, right now," Scully said.
He could tell she wished it were true with all her heart.
He nodded painfully, but willingly bought into the delusion.
"We're her family."
And then, he watched his little girl die.
~~~~
end
adios
RM