Okay, I know I have two X-Files stories in progress right now, but this idea came to me, as I was listening to a song (which I plan to reveal later on), and I just couldn't sleep until I wrote it down. And I know I could write it and not post it, but I want to get some feedback on it thus far. So, reviews would be greatly appreciated.
Thank you so much!
Um, this takes place probably around season 7ish... I'm not really sure. : )
Oh yeah, theline breakslet you know when the POV shifts from Mulder to Scully and vice versa… I hope it's not too confusing!
It all started seven months ago. The day that partnership became something more. The day that friendship transcended into something more significant. I hadn't expected it, but, then really, who ever anticipates life changing experiences?
For seven months thing had been great, for the most part. Everything that happened between us seemed to be magnified by the elevation of our relationship. Most of the time we did well enough at separating work life from home life, but still, things that happened at either place seemed to carry on in some way or another into both environments.
We had the power to affect each other more than anyone else on the planet could affect either of us. We'd always had that power, of course, but it, too, was magnified. Most of the time we were happy, extremely happy, we hardly allowed the sadness room to mill.
Most of the time I walked around in amazement, half expecting Scully to turn to me and say 'haha, fooled ya.' Or, perhaps worse, I waited to wake up from this amazingly wonderful realistic dream I'd been having. There was just no way, in my mind, that this could be real. I had started loving Scully… well, I don't really know when I had started loving Scully, but it had happened quickly, and long ago. I realized long ago that no one in this world compared to her.
But me. What did she see in me? I guess the root of my doubt started with myself. She was too good for me. She was perfect in every way, and there was no way on this earth that I deserved her.
But I wasn't dreaming. It was all a reality, and I had never been happier. And what's more, I had never seen Scully happier, and I was thrilled that her happiness came from me.
But, one day that all changed. One day the happy kingdom we had been building came crashing down all around us.
I don't recall now what the fight was about, other than it was work related and something along the lines of 'I believed and she didn't.' There was yelling, I remember that clearly, though I don't remember what exactly was said. It was a normal fight, like many others we'd had, even in the seven months that we'd been together.
She stormed out, and I didn't chase her. I knew better, this wasn't the first time we'd had a pretty big fight about work. So, I just sighed and sat back down at my desk and finished my work.
I went home and showered, and put on my jeans, the ones she likes so much on me, and a faded blue t-shirt, and headed over to her place. I grabbed some wine and flowers on my way over, figuring that this time would be the same as always.
Every time we fought at work, we just shrugged it off, and went about with our regular lives. I'd usually come over and watch a movie, or we'd go out to dinner or anything normal. The fights were never mentioned, because we agreed long ago that we had to separate work from our relationship as much as possible, or we would never survive.
So, you see now, why I assumed that this time would be like always. I thought I'd just get to her apartment and all would be forgiven. I knocked on her door, put on my cheesy smile, and waited for her to come to the door.
But when she opened the door, I could tell something wasn't right. Her expression was somber, and it looked as though she'd been crying.
"Scully, what's wrong?" I asked, quickly concerned. My thoughts raced a mile a minute, was it her mother? Bill? Her nephew?
She looked at me for a minute, before she said "I think you should come in."
I nodded and came inside. I set the wine and flowers on her table and turned around to face her as she closed the door. She paused, momentarily, and put her head on the door, prompting my repetition of my earlier question "What's wrong?"
She exhaled a breath that I didn't know she'd been holding, and then said "Sit down, Mulder."
I did, not taking my eyes off of her. She came to the couch and sat beside me. Not too close, I noticed briefly, before I asked "Is everything okay?"
She looked at me, tears in her eyes and answered "No, Mulder, it's not."
I moved closer, prepared to take her in my arms, but she put her hand on my chest and said "Don't."
I thought I could do this, I really did. Somewhere, deep down, I know I still can, I just don't know quite how. I don't know how I can do this, feeling his muscles tense under my hand. He looks so confused, so lost, so hurt—and all from one word. Don't.
But if I'm going to get through this, I can't have him touching me. I can't have him putting his arms around me, because if that were to happen, I might lose my nerve. It's barely hanging on as it is, my nerve, that is.
When he showed up at my door I almost changed my mind. Just seeing him standing there with his cheesy grin was almost enough to make me forget myself. It was almost enough to make me forget what I was doing. Almost.
But my reasons are solid; my reasons are valid, sound. They have nothing to do with lack of feeling, no, in fact, it's quite the opposite. I try not to think about the opposite and focus on the situation at hand.
He looks so concerned, and I feel my heart break then and there. Just looking at his expression constricts my heart and throws it into the pit of my stomach. I don't want to do this; God knows I don't want to do this. I wish I could not do this. I wish I could just scoot next to him, put his arm around me, lay my head on his chest and never leave this room again.
No, I don't want to do this. But, I need to.
He takes my hand, the one that was on his chest, and holds it. He sits silently, waiting for me to speak. Oh, God.
"Mulder…" I start, trying to speak around the lump in my throat and keep the tears filling my eyes to the brim from pouring down my face. "Mulder," I clear my throat "I-I… can't do… this anymore."
He looks at me, confused; he doesn't understand what I'm saying to him. He looks at me, and puts his hand on my face. He smiles slightly, to let me know that it's okay… that everything's okay.
Oh, but it's not. I take a deep breath, looking into his eyes only momentarily.
I look down at our hands, linked together; perfectly fitting, then I squeeze his hand and say "This."
I couldn't have heard her right. There's no way I could have heard her correctly. Or, at least, there's no way that she could mean what I think she means. She didn't mean what I was thinking. 'This' did not equate 'us.' There was no way that she could have been talking about our relationship, maybe just our displays of affection? Maybe she couldn't…hold my hand anymore? Even I knew how irrational that was, but to accept that as being irrational was to accept what she meant.
I'm sure my face is contorted right now, as I'm trying to figure out what she means, as I'm trying to decipher what to feel. Deep down, I know what she means, but there's a part of me that wants to validate, there's that little optimist inside that says 'no, she couldn't mean what you think she means.'
So, I ask her. "What do you mean, Scully?" I now have tears in my eyes, and I try to keep them at bay. I know what she means.
And she knows that I know.
"Mulder…" she pauses "you know what I mean…" She says it gently, but at this point I am incapable of taking as anything but harsh.
I quickly rip my hand away from hers and stand up. I run my hands over my face and pace back and forth. She stays on the couch, looking at the floor.
I finally stop, my mind still racing and ask dumbly "Why? Is it because of what happened at work today?" My tone has an edge to it, one that I'm absolutely certain didn't escape her ears, and she turns to look at me.
She pauses for a long moment, as if she's deciding what to say. I see her eyes moving quickly, and I know she's trying to make a decision, I just have no idea what she's deciding about. "No, Mulder, it's not because of what happened at work today."
"Because, Mulder… I just…can't." She finishes.
I look at her, mouth agape. That's it? "That's it, Scully! You just can't! You're… you're breaking up with me because you just can't do it anymore!" I ask incredulously, raising my voice.
She's taken aback, but she responds, still gentle "There's…more to it than that, but…I just can't." she finishes.
"Yes, I know, you've said that already, numerous times, in fact." I come over to the couch and sit down, still angry. "What more to it is there, Scully? I think I deserve more than an 'I just can't.' Scully, you know I deserve more."
He was right. He did deserve more, but what could I say to him? Could I tell him I was scared? That things between us were just too damn powerful? Could I tell him that I didn't want to do this, but that things between us were just so damn electric that I was terrified?
Could I tell him that I was losing one of the only things that I had ever fought to hold onto? Could I tell him that I was losing my dependence, and that scared me more than anything else in this world?
My mind scoffed at me and said 'of course you can, Dana, you can tell him anything.'
I could, but I couldn't. So I just said "Yes, Mulder, you do, but… but I just…can't." I finished lamely.
"You sure can't do a lot of things." He says, and I felt the sting of his words in my eyes. He was right, of course, so very right. There were so many things that I couldn't do.
He put his head between his hands and rested his elbows on his knees. He rubbed his eyes, and sighed. He looked…fragile. No, he looked broken, and I felt a hitch in my throat at that thought, and closed my eyes. I couldn't bare to see him like this, and even more, I couldn't bare to see him like this with the knowledge that it was me and my own selfish fears that had brought him to such a state.
Long ago a friend of mine told me that one cannot be entirely selfish if one considers oneself to be selfish. I used to think that maybe she was right, that as long as I could recognize selfishness in myself, then I wasn't completely selfish.
But looking at Mulder now, I know without a doubt that my friend was completely wrong. What's the use in recognizing selfishness if one does nothing to eradicate it within oneself?
Looking at Mulder the way that he was made me hurt inside so very badly. I wanted to take it back, to take everything I said back. And I knew that if I did, he would forgive me, and we could go on as if nothing happened… but I couldn't bring myself to do it.
In the end, my fears won out. My selfishness won out. My selfish fears kept me silent, waiting for him to speak.
It seemed like an eternity before he finally spoke again. He turned his head to the side and asked "So, that's it?"
I nodded my head.
"That's it? This is how it's going to end? I don't get a say in it? It's just 'good-bye, I can't do this?'"
I offered only a meek "Yes." My voice came out in a hoarse whisper so low, I wasn't sure if he heard it. I hoped that he did because I didn't know if I had the courage to repeat it.
But when he grabbed the flowers and wine off the table, I knew he had heard it. He walked to the door, not even looking back and me, he opened it, and before he stepped out he said "Then damn you, Scully. Damn you to hell."
I winced at his words. Deserved or not they still stung.
And with that, he slammed the door.
Most definitely to be continued.
Please, if you have time, give feedback, it would be appreciated beyond your belief. Don't hate me for breaking them up just yet, okay?
Anywaaaay, let me know what you think. : )
Natalie (Calculated Artificiality)