TITLE: Eternity
AUTHOR: Gabi Fisher
SPOILER WARNING: I don't think there are any.
CLASSIFICATION: VA
SUMMARY: Mulder painfully remembers Scully's death.
DISCLAIMER: No, silly. I don't own them. I'm just borrowing them. I'll consider returning
them to CC when I'm done.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you for all your help, Annmaree.
* * *
It seems so long ago. Four months can seem like nothing
at times, but it can also feel like an eternity. An eternity in heaven or an eternity in
hell. Only what we are getting away from, day by day, can decide where we are headed. For
me, it's definitely hell. Each new day is one more I have to push myself through, see
through until evening when I can go home once more to dream of what I used to have and
will never have again.
The gaping hole that's taking over where my heart once was grows larger every day that
passes. Maybe one of these days it will engulf me and I will no longer have to deal with
this pain. So many times before I've had to deal with loss, but never to this extent. When
I lost my sister I was able to convince myself that one day I would see her again, so my
pain was lessened. By convincing myself that she wasn't really dead, I did not let myself
mourn for her, so I never opened my heart to pain. For many years I had been emotionally
cut off from my father, so his death had little impact on me. The death of some of my
friends and past partners hit me, but I never let myself grow too attached to anyone
before. Scully was the first one. I had opened my heart to her, and inevitably I had been
hurt.
I don't think I ever really believed it when people said that you only really appreciate
something until it's gone until that day. I had taken Scully's always being there for me
for granted. I had expected that she always would be there. I only wish she still
was… Oh god, I miss her so much.
Her death had been a pointless, meaningless accident. A drunk driver hit her while she was
jogging one Sunday morning. Right in front of a church. I had not seen her at the scene of
the accident, so I can only imagine how her frail, broken body must have looked,
carelessly thrown against the pavement. I can vividly imagine her lifeblood flowing out of
her body, pooling around her on the ground. The driver had been no more than fined and
reprimanded while Scully, my Scully, was left to fight death. Once she had arrived at the
hospital, I had been called and I raced to be at her side. Skinner had arrived soon after
me, quickly followed by Mrs. Scully. We anxiously waited to hear how surgery had gone. We
had been told that Scully was out of surgery, but still in ICU. Her chances of survival
were not good, the doctor told us. I wanted to scream at her for not being able to save
Scully, but I knew that would do no good. She had done everything she could…
Only one person was allowed in the small ICU cubical at a time, so Mrs. Scully went in
first. Skinner and I sat in the waiting room, both of us pretending to be reading one of
the old magazines that fill the small tables accompanying the hard, plastic chairs.
Through some silent agreement, I was to see Scully next, and then he could go in and see
her. For that I am grateful.
After what seemed like an eternity, Mrs. Scully came out, somberly, and sat down next to
me. "You can go see her now, Fox," she said. She had a wadded up Kleenex ball in
her hand, but did not seem to notice the tears that stained her cheeks. I gave her hand
what I hoped was a reassuring squeeze, and stood up.
I was completely unprepared for what I saw when I entered the room. I remembered the last
time I had seen Scully in the hospital. She had been dying then, too. Of cancer. Only
then, she had not been bloody and bruised. She was unconscious, but I could see her pain
on her pale face. At first I was afraid to hurt her by touching her, but I gave in when I
felt I could live no longer without touching her. I carefully reached out and held her
hand. It was limp, but warm. I pressed it against my cheek, and a few lone tears fell.
"Scully…" I started. I had so much to tell her, to apologize for, to
acknowledge. I was unsure where to begin. I decided to just jump in. "Scully, I'm not
sure if you can hear me, but I hope you can. I wanted you to know that I am sorry for
everything I have done wrong in the past. No one has ever meant more to me than you, and I
need you to know that. I don't think I've told you that enough. And, I love you. With all
my heart. I always have."
I bent over and kissed Scully's cheek. I hadn't done that enough either, I realized. Then
all of a sudden heart monitors monotonous beeps turned into one steady sound. I knew what
was happening, but I didn't want to believe it. For several seconds, nothing happened.
There was a moment of utter peace between myself and Scully. It was so easy to pretend
that nothing was wrong. Several doctors and nurses rushed into the room, but even then I
couldn't believe that Scully was dead. She couldn't be. That was just something that
couldn't happen. Not to my Scully. Not like that. Not an ungraceful accident. That was not
the way it was supposed to happen…
At least if it had been cancer I would have had time to prepare myself for her impending
death. I would have had a chance to say everything I had meant to. If it had been murder,
I would have been able to throw myself into revenge. I would have done everything possible
to apprehend and punish her killer. If she had been kidnapped or abducted, I would have
been able to hope for her return. As with Samantha, I would have been able to tell myself
that one day she would come back, and things would be the same way they had before. But it
was none of those. It was a god damned fucking accident. A reckless driver. In front of a
church no less. And I was not there for her. In her time of need, as with so many times
before, I was not there. For that, I blame myself.
When she died, a part of me died with her. The part that cared. The part that gave a damn.
The better part of me… I was not joking when I told her that she made me whole. I had
experienced my life without her, when she had been abducted, and it was empty. I had been
a cold, empty, unfeeling shell of a man. When she returned, she had brought back the rest
of me with her. When she died, I could feel that same part of me she had taken with her
last time ebb slowly out of my body, day by day, until nothing was left.
Without her here by my side, I'm not really sure why I'm still here and working. I work on
cases while on autopilot. I barely stop to think about what I'm doing. Miraculously,
however, cases still get solved, and I haven't been fired. Yet. I don't know how much
longer Skinner will let me continue working like this. He has to know that my heart is no
longer in my work. Not the way it used to be. Since Scully's death, I have even given up
most hopes of ever seeing Samantha again. I think I realized that if Scully could die,
that there were no such things as miracles. If Scully was gone forever, Sam had to be. No
one returned after more than twenty years. At least, not as the same person that left.
In the past four months, I learned that hell is a state of waiting. A state of limbo,
unsure of which way to go, what to do. Waiting, yet knowing nothing good is left in life,
is worse than hell. It's where I am.
I thought I would be able to get myself out of that place by drowning myself in alcohol.
For a while anyway, it helped. My thoughts were surrounded by a thick haze, and what
little emotion I could still feel was numbed. Maybe that's why I got in the car to drive
home. I'm still not sure.
The events of the past few hours seem surprisingly clear, considering the amount I drank.
I remember how the raindrops spattered against the windshield. It reminded me of the tears
I had rarely seen you shed. I remembered the slick roads. I almost fishtailed twice, but
prevented it. I remember the tight curve, and the tree. It grew very big, very fast. The
one thing I don't remember is the moment of impact. I suppose the few moments of blinding
pain blocked that out. The pain was short lived, and my body was soon numb. I remember
initially comparing it to my emotional state. I remember that I had not opened my eyes,
because I did not want to see my mangled body. I couldn't move, so I knew something had to
be wrong. People say that when about to die that their life flashes before their eyes.
It's true. I saw happy times with Samantha when we were children, then her abduction and
the depressing times following. Nothing memorable happened until you showed up in my
basement office six years ago, when everything wrong with my life seemed to take a turn
for the better. Each and every experience we shared fluttered across my quickly dimming
mind. My last thoughts were of you. I hoped I'd see you again, when the pain finally went
away. I tried to whisper, "I love you," but I'm not sure if my voice worked or
not. It doesn't really matter. With that said aloud finally, I took my last breath. I was
at last at rest for eternity.
*****
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