From: perelandra@my-deja.com
Date: Mon, 10 Jan 2000 22:02:22 GMT
Subject: NEW: "All Your Sundays" (1/1) by Perelandra

TITLE:    All Your Sundays
AUTHOR:   Perelandra (perelandra_x@yahoo.com)
CATEGORY: VA
SPOILERS: Emily, Redux trilogy, All Souls
          This was written before "Orison" so
          Mulder's comments against religion does not
          fit in this fic's universe.
RATING:   G
SUMMARY:  Faith seen through the faithful's eyes.

DISCLAIMER:  Mulder and Scully are NOT MINE, DAMMIT!
I'll get that through my head eventually. :)

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  This fic was written in response to
the Scullyfic "Love Letter" Challenge...thanks to Robbie, who did a
lovely beta through her abacus.  :)

=======================================

"Love suffers long and is kind;
Love does not envy...Love does not
rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth;
bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.

For now we see in a mirror, dimly,
but then face to face.  Now I know in part,
but then I shall know just as I also am known.

And now abide faith, hope, love, these three;
but the greatest of these is love."

               -- 1 Corinthians 13: 4,6-7,12-13

********

Hey, Scully.

Don't panic if you see this.

If you are reading this, it means that I have done my
job as profiler quite well.  'Cause if I'm right,
Scully, you will have found this note at approximately
11:58 A.M., at St. John's Church, Alexandria,
Virginia, behind the lower right-hand candle in the
north alcove of the main church.

I'm good, aren't I?

I know you'll find this because every Sunday, after
11:00 Mass, anyone can find you right here in the
north alcove, lighting candles quietly while the rest
of the congregation rushes to their Sunday breakfasts.

I know this because I see you do it.  Mass is a ritual
for you; and seeing you at church has become one for
me.  I've sat in the car and watched you.  Sometimes I
go in just as the Mass ends, and watch you light your
candles.  Every Sunday I see you come and go, and
quietly, I go home.

You never knew I was there, did you?

Please let me explain, Scully.  I'm not a stalker.

I started to watch you because I wanted to understand
you.  I tried, Scully, but I just couldn't fathom how
a confirmed skeptic who didn't believe in a concept as
simple and plausible as alien life could put faith in
a being as vague and improbable as God.

Monday through Friday you would give me nothing but
skepticism and hard looks; but on Sundays I would see
you walk down the steps of your church.  Your face
held such certainty that you had just communed with
the divine.

How did that work, Scully?  What did you feel?

And then your cancer came, an ugly and unwelcome
visitor that held you prisoner, and I was rendered
almost powerless to help you.  Those Sundays, I'd see
you on the steps of the church, haggard and weak; and
I could see that you were confronting what you found
inside that sanctuary, a cruel and forsaking God who
would take you away before the fight was over.

I remember one gorgeous spring morning, almost three
years ago now.  You left Mass, looking thin and spent
from the illness.  I remember you went to your car,
sat inside, and cried.

I almost went to you then, but I didn't; it wasn't the right time.

I vowed to myself that Sunday that I would never come
back to watch you in such pain, but I had to go back.

I always came back.

Even when I was dead to the world, I came to see you.

When you were in the hospital, near death, and Father
McCue gave you Mass by your bedside, I went and lit
your candles for you.  One for your father, one for
Melissa, and one...I don't know who you light that one
for.  That day I lit it for you.

That day, I sat inside your place of worship and
challenged your God.  I was angry at Him; angry that
you had dedicated your entire life to a God who let
your beautiful and indomitable spirit succumb to the
evil I tried so hard to fight.

And I prayed for a way to save you.  It must have
looked silly, an awkward Jewish boy who believes in
aliens kneeling before Christ; but I prayed for a way
to save you.

We found a way, Scully.

On the Sundays after you went into remission, I
watched you leave church, your face radiant and full
of gratitude.  I saw you happy, and it made me happy
too.  I kept going back because that was when you were
the most beautiful.

And then you lost Emily.

I couldn't stand to see you in so much anguish, but I
still went, every Sunday, just to make sure you were
all right.  That case with the girls and Father
Gregory only made things worse.

I noticed, that Sunday after the fourth girl died, you
stayed a little late after Mass.

It was also the second time in all those Sundays that I'd seen you cry.

This last year...this last year I've gone because of
simple faith.  Because I've realized that to see your
beautiful face shining with the grace of God is more
precious to me than a shipload of aliens.

Because you have faith.  Whether or not God exists,
you believe.  And that's what keeps me going.

You light four candles now; you'll find this note
behind the fourth candle.  One for your father, one
for Melissa, one for Emily, and the last...

I'd like to think that the last candle is for the
truth.  Because no matter what the circumstance, no
matter who is with us and who is against us, I will
always have faith in you.

You tell me the truth, Scully; and that's all I ever
need.

Thank you.

--Mulder


********
END!

Feedback and tacos welcome here:  perelandra_x@yahoo.com

--
XFW73317, Xeminar '99 :-)
...what you want to believe: X-Files Fan Fiction by Perelandra
http://spookynet.simplenet.com/Perelandra/
The Fanfic Cafe: http://www.insidetheweb.com/mbs.cgi/mb270486