Ok, this is my first attempt at writing a fan fiction, and I underline attempt. Any comments should be sent to jenro98000@venus.aa.edu. Note: This is "mushy" stuff centered around Mulder and Scully's relationship, and the feelings they have towards each other, although there is a twist... So, you've been warned in advance. Also, there is some violence and !@#$% words in this story. The X-Files are copyrighted by Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting and Ten-Thirteen Productions, this is done without permission and all that legal stuff that should go with this type of disclaimer. In Memory by Roxanne Jensen Dr. Joseph Erickson heard the door open, looking up from the file he was reading he gestured to the man to sit down. To say that the man looked like hell, was an understatement. He had deeply defined bags under his eyes, most likely from missing days, maybe weeks, of sleep. It looked as though a razor hadn't touched this face in days and his clothes were so wrinkled that Joseph seriously doubted an iron would be able to handle the job. The man fidgeted around in a chair, looking at his watch, clearly not wanting to be here. Just from looking at the man, a Mr. Fox Mulder, the doctor could see the sadness and pain that he carried. Yet, the file said that the event had happened a while ago, little over a year. He sighed, this was not going to be easy, of course these type of cases, given to him by the FBI, rarely were. "Are you comfortable? Most of my patients prefer laying on the couch." "I'm fine, thank you." "Alright then, were should we begin Fox, you don't mind if I call you that, do you?" "I mind, call me Mulder." "Fine then... Mulder, I am fully aware of your background in psychology, so why don't we cut to the chase and you tell me what lead up to you wanting to end your life." "I still don't see why anyone thinks this, or you, will help me. I am beyond help." "Trust me, no one is beyond help." "Yeah right, trust you... Why don't you go and talk to the other psychologists who thought that they could 'help' me as well. That might burst your little self righteous bubble" Mulder muttered under his breath. "What was that Mulder?" "Nothing." "Very well, please continue. " "Fine Doc, but don't say I didn't warn you. I guess it all started when I was 12. My little sister, Samantha, was abducted by aliens..." Mulder interupted by the doctor. "Mulder, I'm here to help you... But if you are not going to cooperate for me. Then this will not help you." "I am being completely serious, now can I continue, or shall I just leave, ether is just fine with me!" "No, leaving isn't necessary, continue with your story." He couldn't let Mulder leave, even if it meant listening to a wild story, perhaps caused by the trauma he had been through. "*Thank* you. Listen, I don't care what the hell you think is creditable, but my sister was taken from me. I witnessed it. I saw it with my two eyes, the ones sitting in my head right now. I saw a bright light and was helpless to stop them... Damn it, if only I had done something, anything... I just didn't try hard enough." By the time Mulder was done saying this, his eyes were red and a few tears were visible on his face. After a few moments he was able to continue, "I'm sorry, I thought that after the nightmares had stopped a few years back, the pain had stopped, or at least dimmed. But that was a foolish hope..." Mulder continued after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, only broken by the scribbling of a pen on paper by the doctor, "Anyway that is what led me to the FBI and then later to the X-Files, was because I looked for answers to the unexplainable and in hope that I might find the answers to my questions, but I never truly did" "The X-Files... ah right, investigating the paranormal. You worked on them with Special Agent Dana Scully for about four years before they were shut down permanently, is that correct?" "Yes." "It didn't exactly help your career, did it" "Wow, did you figure that out from the file you have on me? That must have been hard, considering they wrote 'Career down the Toilet' in permanent marker across the top." Mulder said dryly "Very funny. But what about your partner's career, did it affect her's as well?" "Well, not in the beginning, because she was sent initially sent to spy on me. But once it was clear she wasn't anymore, I think it did." his voice was starting to falter. "Is that why you were partners for two years even after the X-files were shut down?" "I'm not sure... she never mentioned it. Then when I did, she would always change the subject. But, I think she chose to stay and be my partner." "Why do you think that? With the obvious stigmatism that went with working with you, don't you think she wouldn't want to. " "It's hard to explain, we just worked well together, possibly because we had different opinions and views on every aspect of a case. She kept me grounded when I was off with my head in the clouds dreaming of aliens, and government conspiracies. She was the only one a trusted... I trusted her with my life. To put simply, we were more than partners." The memory of when he woke up in the hospital in Alaska seeing her smiling down at him briefly touched his mind, only to be lost as the doctor's nasal voice pierced his thoughts. "What do you mean by that?" "I cared for Dana more than if she was just my partner, she, in the six years I knew her, was one of my few friends. She was always there for me" Mulder sighed and continued, "It when further than I was willing to admit." "So, in other words, your feelings for her ran deeper that friendship." "Yes" Mulder's brain was on fire. Too many questions that were running too close to the truth he didn't want to talk about. "How do you know that she felt the same way?" Mulder began to feel sick, he didn't want to remember it. It was the poison that had a grasp on this soul, slowly killing it. He mind loudly protested, but the memories pushed themselves into his head. He then stopped fighting, letting them win, as he always did. The deafening silence was broken when he whispered in a shaky voice, "She told me..." Mulder's voice seemed to give out, and he was shaking slightly. "Mulder, tell me what happened." Dr. Erickson said in what he thought was a comforting tone. Mulder closed his eyes tightly, collapsing into the chair. He knew what the man was trying to do. The others had tried as well. It didn't matter what the doctor tried to do, the pain would be with him forever. A festering wound in his heart. It enveloped him like a sea wave that was trying to drowned a helpless swimmer. He took a deep breath and began to relate the story. "Good morning Mulder, I am glad you decided to drop by this morning." Scully said dryly, not even looking up from the computer screen. "Geez Scully, I'm what... five minutes late. Oh my God, I should be Shot!" Mulder said in a overly dramatic tone. "Don't tempt me..." "Ohh, you wound me." Scully rolled her eyes at his terrible pun, but Mulder only smiled up at her, "Are you going to mark me down as tardy and send me to the Head Master's? I really hope not, I still have nightmares of my fourth grade teacher, Ms. Crabapple. Hmm long pointy nose, warts... Wow, I never noticed the resemblance until now..." he quipped, dodging a pencil and throwing his black trench coat on the coat hook at the same time. "Little do you know... But please, warts? I wouldn't be talking if I were you." Scully retorted, smiling wickedly at Mulder. Instantly becoming serious, she continued, "Oh, this came for you" she handed over a folder to him. "Gee, everyday here at the FBI as just like Christmas. Maybe this time, it's not a lump of coal." He muttered, sitting down and putting his feet up on the desk and opening the file. Inside was the profile of a Nicholas Baldwin which he had written over eight years ago. Baldwin was a sick man who kidnapped whole families, then as the others members were watching he would kill one of them at a time, slashing the chosen member multiple times with a knife, letting him or her bleed to death, still begging for mercy. Mulder had profiled him as being mentally incompetent and in need of major psychiatric treatment. The jury had agreed with his assessment and he had been sentenced accordingly. Mulder glanced at the note scribbled at the bottom, "Watch your back, He's out and after you." Mulder's mouth fell open in shock. Why, out of all the people he has profiled over the years, did it have to be him? It wasn't because he feared the man, he had faced many people wanting revenge throughout his career, it was an excepted part of the territory. It was just that case had been almost to personal for him, mainly because the families had been forced to watch, unable to help, as their loved ones were murdered. It had brought up too many memories which he had forgotten. As the weeks had passed he had started to see the killer with an irrational pure hatred. When Mulder and his partner at the time had located were Baldwin was hidden out, his partner had to handcuff a bitter, hostile Mulder to the steering wheel as he went and apprehended Baldwin. Luckily for Mulder, the guy had some class and hadn't mentioned it to anyone, or right now "Spooky" would be the nicest name he would be called, if he was still an agent. When the case was finally closed, Mulder had breathed a sigh of relief and went back to working obsessively, hoping to forget what had taken place. Scully's voice jogged him out of his thoughts, "Mulder are you okay? You've been staring at that file with your mouth open for twenty minutes!" "I'm Fine Scully, really." He said, quickly closing his mouth. Unfortunately, as the words came out from his month he knew, from six years of experience, that she would never believe that pitiful lie. Luckily for him, she was concerned about getting the report in on time and let it drop. But not without giving him the "your still not of the hook" look that she gave to him more offen than he liked. After lunch, the assistant director of the FBI, James Alexander, called Mulder into his office and chewed him out for a good 30 minutes. But about what, Mulder couldn't quite remember. Something about a policy or procedure that he had been caught side steeping, like doing that was something new. At forgetting Alexander's speech he smiled ruefully, ether he was getting old, or his "selective memory", so dubbed by Scully, had once again deemed the "talk" unimportant. Alexander couldn't do much to him anyway, he had ties the man couldn't stomach. The only punishment Alexander could give to Mulder was a migraine, and he, rubbing his temples, had to admit that he did that quite well. Mulder was frantically searching through his desk for his aspirin, when the heard Scully walk in to the room. She was pissed. He knew that much even without looking up, the clicking of the heels gave her away Slowly, he looked up at her, bracing himself for her wrath, wondering what he had done wrong today. "Mulder, why didn't you tell me that a psychotic killer is out for revenge against you?" Her words were laced with anger. Man, she had gotten some good connections over the years. It was ether that or she had... Mulder's eyes fell to the file that he had left on his desk. Scully was good, he could admit that much. Now he couldn't deny her accusations. "I... um... didn't want you to worry you" the moment he said the words he knew that they were the wrong ones. Mulder winced, knowing what was to come. "YOU DIDN'T WANT TO WORRY ME?"she yelled. Mulder groaned rubbing his temples, the aspirin didn't stand a chance against Scully's temper, it never had "Remember the last time you didn't want to worry me? You were in the hospital for three weeks, I could have killed, myself, after you pulled off that STUPID stunt. Why do you feel the need to leave me in the dark if I, your partner, might actually be helpful? After how long we've been working together, can't you can trust me with your problems?" "That's not it Scully, It's just... I am not that worried about him coming after me. So it's no big deal, plus it doesn't involve you, this was a case I had before you were my partner." He cringed, seeing Scully looking away, that hadn't came out right. In fact, nothing came out right anymore when he talked to her. Mulder answered his own question, as he had for years, Scully's voice jolted him out of his thoughts. "Fine Mulder, listen, it's already late, so I'm going to go. Just promise me that you'll call me when you get home." "Listen, Scully, I'm sorry about what I said..." "No, Mulder, don't apologize, I know." She sighed, grabbed her coat and stopped suddenly at the door, "If you can't come up with a better excuse next time, I'll hide your aspirin." With that deadly threat, she walked out the door. Mulder watched her go out the door, and smiled. She'd never find his emergency bottle. Not even he could. Mulder walked inside his apartment, his gun ready. Although he would never admit it to Scully, he was more disturbed about the note that he had let on. If someone had taken the time to clue him in that the guy was out and out to get him, it was most likely this was no fire drill. After searching his place thoroughly and finding it clear, he sat down on the couch and took a deep breath, feeling extremely relieved. That was when the phone rang. Picking up the phone he smiled, Scully, always checking up on him. "Mulder." "Hi there Spooky, how have the last couple of years been?" Mulder's stomach turned in to a block of ice, and he felt sick as he heard that vaguely familiar voice over the phone. He wished for the voice to stop, for just hearing it made him lose control. "I see you've been very busy, and would you look at that, you have actually had a partner for six years. Wow, that's one for the record books. How does she put up with you? You must care for her a lot... But enough about you, I, on the other hand, have been in an institution for the violently unstable, can you imagine that? Oh wait, that's right you were the one that put me there, silly me. You know I really must do something about the ol' memory, perhaps it was the drugs they pumped into me for eight years." , Mulder thought to himself, With that Mulder's brain jump started, Scully, he had her. "What have you done with her!" He yelled interrupting the man's demented speech. "Tell me or I'll rip your fucking eyes out!" "Fox, my boy, your not really in the position to dishing out the threats. Even if you were, that one is not even remotely possible, considering your FBI regulations. I read 'em once, and there is nothing about allowing agents to rip a persons *fucking* eyes out. And I thought you were marginally smart... I mean, you did beat me, and have a drop dead gorgeous partner, pardon the pun." laughing could be heard on the other end of the line, "Well anyway, about your partner, lets see, well umm... I could have already killed her, but that would not have been any fun. Plus, according to my 'profile' I have to have to have a family member present, to get any satisfaction. Well Fox, I've been rehabilitated, and I am a new man, so you might want to hurry... Of course you would have to *know* were I am first. You beat me once, but let's see if you can do it again.... The stakes have risen, from the last time my boy. You stand to lose everything, while I stand to lose nothing. Care to see if I'm bluffing?" With that the phone went dead. Mulder stared at the phone in shock, he felt as though he had been hit by a brick. Mulder dropped the phone and ran out the door, time was not on his side and there was no room to screw up. When he pulled out in to the street, Mulder still had no idea were he was going, it was really instinct that brought him to Scully's apartment in search for clues. Maybe she hadn't been taken, Baldwin was lying, and she would get pissed at over protectful he is, yet again. He could hear her neighbors complaining about the shouting right now. As Mulder put his hand on the door knob, and prayed but it made no difference, she was gone, taken... again. Mulder felt a feeling of despair as he looked at the disheveled furniture, she had put up a fight, but from Dana he could expect no less. As he walked around her apartment a feeling of deja vu fell upon him. The phone rang snapping him back to reality . Mulder felt sick as he grabbed the phone, he knew it could be only one person. "You are growing predictable in your old age Mulder. Did you really think I would leave you clues? In any case, you have your proof, I am serious. I have her, and she will die. When she does, and you find her mutilated body it will be your fault that she died, YOUR FAULT. Need a pencil to write that down? Happy hunting." the line went dead. Mulder ran out of the apartment. Past and Present meshed together becoming insanity, visions and thoughts which he had over four years ago were coming back to haunt him, the blame and guilt washed over him. Once outside the apartment he leaned against the door, regaining his composure, this time he wouldn't be to late. FBI Building 1:11 am To say that Mulder was frustrated, would be a major understatement. Objects that were in his way were thrown against the wall and papers were scattered on the floor so that now the floor could not be seen. He had been staring at the same file for an hour, but still felt that he was missing something, something obvious. He had gone into the man's head, but that hadn't turned up anything. Baldwin had changed his ways, that was something extremely rare. The man was unpredictable, and that meant he could be anywhere. On the desk, his cellular phone rang. "Mulder." "You didn't take my warning very seriously did you? Looks like I need to save your butt, once again. Big surprise there. Alright listen closely, Nicholas Baldwin was released, only a day ago, but he has, within that time gotten a hold of your file." "What? How did he..." "You should be the last one asking that, Mulder. You might be surprised, but some people up here just don't like you." "Really, I would never have guessed." Mulder shot back. "But how does this help me?" "He knows EVERYTHING about you, and he wants to hurt you, both psychologically and physically. You're smart, or at least you used to be... Think about it, I really don't want to have to spell it out for you." "Listen, I really appreciate all of this." "It's the least I can do. Although I'm really glad I didn't have to beat the crap out of an informant of yours this time." The Line went dead, and within minutes, he knew exactly where Baldwin was. As he reached the apartment numbered 40 he pulled out his gun and kept walking slowly down the hall. As Mulder approached his apartment, he heard Scully scream in pain. After hearing it, Mulder wasted no time kicking in the door. As it collapsed inward, Mulder was glad that he still lived in the same building for years, even if it was considered by most to be very out of date. While pointing the gun, Mulder scanned the apartment for Baldwin and Scully. Scully was standing in the corner of the living room, naked, with shallow knife slashes all across her body. Her hands were tied and Mulder saw the hope in her eyes as she looked up to see Mulder entering the room. Unfortunately Baldwin saw the look as well and snarled a warning to him, "Drop the gun buddy boy, and if you come any closer, she's as good as dead." Mulder lowered his gun, and dropped it. He would wait for the right time and kill the son of a bitch at the first opportunity, especially after what he had done to Scully. Whatever trouble he got in would be justified, even if it meant his job. This time he was there and would not let her down, no matter what the consequences were. In his rage, Mulder realized something that he had been hiding from himself for a long while, although he had already realized that he loved Dana for sometime, he had not realized the extent. Looking at her now in obvious pain, her face, always so beautiful, even now with two long slashes along her cheekbones that were bleeding down her face. He knew, as he felt her pain as his own, that from that moment until the end of his life, Dana Scully was his soul. "Fox, would you quit staring at my handiwork, what happened to that little thing called clinical detachment you FBI men pride yourself on anyway? If I didn't know better, I'd think that you and the pretty little lady here are personally involved." Baldwin then smiled evilly and took his knife and sliced her upper arm. Mulder flinched, and glanced down at the gun. But it was useless, no mater how fast these new laser guns were, Baldwin still had time to kill her. "How do you like feeling helpless Fox? Oh, that's right your sister... How could I be so heartless? Must be genetic. Hmmm, remind me to check on that sometime. You'd be surprised how much the government knows about her, but they would never tell you. They deny everything. So here are some words of advise from Grampa Nick: Do not trust any of 'em, no one in this here government should be trusted." Mulder's jaw tightened as all of this was spoken. Thoughts about exactly what was in his file and how screwed up this man's mind really was, crossed this his mind. He did not react to what was being said, however. He would not let Baldwin get the satisfaction of seeing the effect of his torments. Damn, if he could only reach the gun fast enough. "Ahh, Mulder you know we really should do this again, perhaps in hell? I'll set us up a date. How 'bout in a year, you should have suffered enough by then to suit me by then." With that Baldwin made one quick slicing movement across Scully's upper chest, around the collar bone. The wound was deep, and Scully fell to her knees. She was now losing a lot of blood, without imitate medical attention she would die. Mulder saw the scene in slow motion, and he was moving even slower. By the time he had brought the gun up, aimed and pulled the trigger, Baldwin was facing him in triumph. As the fire of lasers pierced the man's body and he fell down on to the now red carpet, a smile was plastered forever on his face. Baldwin had won. Seeing Scully collapsing, Mulder rushed to her side and held her in his arms, untying her hands. "Everything is going to be fine Scully, I promise." He looked in her eyes and saw the dismal expression that came across her face. "Mulder, please, I'm a doctor remember." Mulder looked away, tears were streaming down his face. "Dana, you can't die... you just can't" His voice was sounding very high. "Fox, listen to me..." her voice was growing faint, "...I love you, and I will wait for the time when we can be together. But there are still things here that you must do, here." With that the life went from her eyes and she fell limp in Mulder's arms. Mulder looked at her and was numb, she was dead. He felt the blood from her wounds collecting in his hands and dripping to the floor. Gently, he laid her down upon the floor and closed her eyes. As Mulder was placing her hands down at her sides, he saw something glimmering around her neck. It was the little golden cross that she always wore was there. He unclasped the chain and held it in his hand as he remembered the pain of finding it in the trunk of her car when Duane Barry had kidnapped her, and the joy he had felt as he gave it back. he thought to himself, the pain was too much. He stared at Scully's body, and how it had been defiled. He heard her last words over and over, "I love you." he felt the cross burning his skin. He heard the words of Baldwin "...you find her mutilated body it will be your fault that she died." The anguish that Mulder was going through caused his legs gave out and he fell onto his knees , . Then, Mulder got his wish and his mind shut down, unable to take the amount of emotion. Mulder put his head against Scully's chest, her blood, still warm, covered his face, it didn't matter. He felt himself being pulled away from her body and loaded into an ambulance, it didn't matter. She was dead, and with that his world had shattered. Even if by some miracle it was ever pieced together again, fragments would be missing, and the beauty that use to be there would be lost forever. Dr. Erickson looked up from his notes as Mulder finished his story. He was sitting straight up now, showing no emotion, not a good sign. So the doctor continued to poke in to the man's dark memories, "Tell me what happened after that?" "What do you mean? That's it, she died I went to her funeral, and tried to continue living, constantly harassed by psychologists like you." "Yeah right. Let me be blunt, you tried to commit suicide and didn't. You stopped yourself and right now don't look to happy about it. This also took place about a year after agent Scully's death. Most people in this situation at this period in time have already moved on with there lives, or are, at least, learning to deal with the emotions. Trying to mive forward with their lives. So if you don't mind, I'd like to hear the rest of the story." "Are you always this pushy with you patients doctor?" "No, but you seem to respond to nothing else...." "Fine, you win. But I doubt that you will believe most of what I tell you, not even I believe some of it." With that Mulder continued his story. At first I couldn't accept that she was gone, even after the funeral. I would sit at my desk at work and just wait, for hours at a time, for her to come in. I would dial her cellular number only to hear the same recording over and over, telling me that the line had been disconnected. Perhaps the first glimmer of realization that she was gone forever was when I went with her mother to help pack up Dana's belongings. Seeing her things being packed away in cardboard boxes, never to be seen by my eyes again, broke through the thick wall of denial that I had put up. Then I started to tremble, and had to sit down. Unfortunately, Mrs. Scully had noticed my display of emotion, and sat down beside me. She didn't say anything, but that was a lot worse, than if she had. So we just sat there, until I completely lost control. "Why did she have to die? I would have given anything to have taken her place. It's not fair. It's all my fault, if only I had been able to stop him. I'm so lost without her..." "She will always be with you Fox, your love for each other, even though never acted upon, surpasses even death." "I hope so, without her, I am dead." With that my hand went to the chain around his neck, and nothing more was said. I suppose you don't know what it is like to have photographic memory, do you? Well, because of mine, Dana's face is permanently ingrained into my memory. I see it night and day, and never once has the pain of her death, and the emptiness that it has left my with, gone away. Now, I accept it as my punishment for letting her die. Sometimes it even helps me with the guilt. But at first, I would drink constantly hoping for a way out. Being in a drunk stupor did help me get some momentary relief, but then when I was sober the pain became worse. Because of this, My work began to suffer greatly, and I was forced, in my best interests of course, to take a leave of absence from the FBI. Without work to take my mind off what had happened, I would see Dana die in perfect detail over and over. As I said before, she had become my soul. This became even more clear as each day passed. I was made to realize that it was impossible for a man to live without one. Despair fell upon me, I saw what kind of man I had become, and I was scared. More importantly I was alone, and I couldn't see a way out. No... actually I did see a way out. That is why I pulled the gun to my head. The information that said I was not influenced by an outward force in to not committing suicide, is wrong. I had just come to my decision, to end it, when she appeared, to stop me. "Fox, put the gun down." Spoke a familiar soft voice. I looked up. Dana was there simmering in the light, walking toward me. I was seeing her as an angel now. "Why must you haunt me, all the time? Even now, I can hear your voice, see your face clearer that before. I want to die, please... don't stop me, let me die." "Fox, you still have work to do." "Please Dana, I want to be free." "No Fox, promise me you will not end your life." "Why, I what good am I here?" "The truth. You must find it." "I can't, not anymore, not without you." "I will be with you, I always have." Feeling the cross against my chest, as she started to fade, I made that promise. From that moment on I knew that I would never be at peace until I had fulfilled it. "So, you are saying you saw Dana Scully's ghost?" "I don't see how it could be anything else." "Uh huh, what do you think she meant by finding the truth." "Finding Samantha." "Your sister, correct." "Yes." "I don't see." "It is the one major question in my life, and has been there since I was a child. The one truth that I had desperately wanted to find, and used to drive my life. Hell, without that need for the truth, I would have never meet Dana" There was silence after his blunt explanation. "I take it you've got me all figured out, don't you, doc?" "Well, I wouldn't say...." Mulder cut him off. "Trauma from childhood, memories that were influenced, by need to explain to own self. Reinforced by death of partner, for whom there was unresolved serious feelings for. Extreme guilt in both cases. Emotionally unstable, still capable of suicide, recommend extensive treatment. Correct?" "Yes, but...." "I'm sure you have a through analysis, but I've heard it before, and I don't want to sit here for another three hours." Mulder got up, "Make sure to send the bill to my boss, he'll be *real* pleased when he sees the price." "Can I schedule you in for another session?" "I'll call you." Mulder quickly got up and walked out of the office. As soon as he was gone, Erickson shut the door, picked up the phone and dialed. "I finished his evaluation. Her death had the desired effect, although Baldwin seriously screwed up and told him things that were in his file. It makes no difference, he is a broken man, no longer a threat to us." After listening to the voice on the line he responded, "Yeah, Mulder told me, but that information does you no good, that man is beyond even your iron fist." epilogue**************************************************** It was late afternoon, it was cloudy and quickly becoming dark. The air was cold and the wind was picking up. One lone man was walking along the street. He hunched over, trench coat pulled tightly around around his body. He turned into the cemetery, as he did every week at this time. The watchman looked up and saw the old man, shaking his head he went back to his work. Jose had been working here for at least five years, and every week this man had come to put flowers on one grave. Even on his first day at work here, Henry, the senior watchman, had given him detailed instructions regarding the man. "Leave him alone. Let him sit by that fucking grave all night and yell, if he wants. If he hasn't left yet at lock up, leave him there, he is a special case." Jose, in the beginning, was not without his curiosity however. One night, he had spied on the man. He had put a rose beside the tombstone, 1999 was the year on it. But that made sense, it was an old cemetery. The man started crying and continued even after Jose had seen enough, and had made a promise never to bother the man again. There was something unholy about spying on people in a cemetery, and it seemed intensified with this man. From then on he heard and saw nothing, "Much like the government." he thought to himself. The thorns pierced his hand and blood appeared as he clenched his hand around the rose. He was oblivious to the pain, for there was another that ran much deeper. He turned to face the tombstone, and dropped the flower as he had countless times before. Instead of breaking down in tears, Mulder became lost deep in thought. He used to come everyday, but in the last few years he had become distracted. He had finally followed through with the promise he had made, over 20 years ago. He had found Samantha. It had been as wonderful as he had imagined it all these years since her abduction, so wonderful he had lost a great amount of his grief over Dana's death. Sure, he still went to the cemetery, only to drop off a flower and pay his respects, more out of habit than feeling. All thoughts about Dana had disappeared, to be replaced by Samantha. Nothing is without a price. All the years away from him with people she "couldn't remember" had done a lot to her, and although she was the right age physically, her mental development was only around the age of eight. But Mulder had been certain that he could help her and in trying to do so, he had the signs if life brought back into him. He was, after 20 years, getting on with his life and was happy. Life was no longer the dark hell that it had once been. Then Samantha had found a picture of Dana and himself at her family's house when she had successfully talked him into going with her for Christmas one year. Mulder had no idea how long he had stood there remembering her and one of the happiest times of his life. "So Mulder are you going to just sit there while I do the dishes?" Dana said as she set another wet dish on the counter, and grabbed for another one to clean. "What? When I can sit back relax after a wonderful meal, and watch a beautiful woman? You have got to be kidding, I'm the *guest* remember?" he then put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, still smiling. "I would say something about the video's that aren't yours, but it's Christmas..." Mulder opend his eyes, and sat up thinking of a way to defend himself only to see a wet, dripping dish rag flying across the room. Surprised, it hit his face before he could duck. He looked up, wiping some of the water from his face, to see Dana smiling innocently. "So, ether take a cold shower, or get started drying these dishes." "Yes, Madam." He bowed to Dana, grabbed a dishtowel and started drying the dishes in front of him. Wondering how he had ever gotten so lucky to have her in his life, and how he had lived without her. Samantha couldn't understand his actions and his pain that her questions about the "beautiful red haired lady" brought up. So, she ran away, thinking it was her fault that he felt such sadness and grief. Samantha never turned up, and it would not have been very easy explaining to the police that someone in their fifties had run away from home. So the case remained unexplained, an x-file. It had ended as it had began. His voice could be hardly heard over the wind, if anyone had been listening. "I am sorry Dana. I came so close... too close to forgetting how much you mean to me." He continued, "I have kept my promise, I reopened the x-files, and in that I found the biggest truth, my sister. There is nothing left for me to look for.... I am tired of all the opposition, all the stories and names the rest of the FBI whispering thinking I can't hear, or hoping that I do. Dana, I am tired of looking." With those last words her collapsed upon her grave. He felt sleep cover him. Whispering thank you, he closed his eyes. He was going to the woman he loved, finally. Jose's shift was over, the sun was barely visible against the cloud streaked sky. As he made his final rounds, he saw the man collapsed against the grave he always visited. Since he was lying on the ground, not moving, Jose decided to break the rules and check on the man. Approaching the man he asked, "Sir, are you alright? Sir?" Jose checked his pulse, the man was dead. Muttering a prayer, he looked at the name on the tombstone, Dana Katherine Scully. Must have been one hell of a woman. The cause of Special Agent Fox Mulder's death remained unknown, even after a thorough autopsy was done. No one gave it much thought, a spooky death for a spooky man. -- RW... GA is IDDG! :) I go ga ga over GA! ;) The Few, The Proud, The GATB...