From: Melinda Hall Date: 15 Jul 2003 07:53:19 -0700 Subject: xfc: The End of the Road by Obfusc8er Source: atxc TITLE: The End of the Road FEEDBACK: aobfuscata@hotmail.com WRITTEN BY: Obfusc8er SPOILERS: Closure, Sein und Zeit, Demons, Little Green Men, The Blessing Way RATING: PG ARCHIVE: Gossamer, After the Fact, Mulder in Jeopardy, Crystalship, Enigmatic Dr's; all others, please ask first. CLASSIFICATION: Angst, fill-ins and post-ep DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions NOTES: This was written for the "Post-Ep" Fic of the Month challenge at Mulder's Refuge. Big thanks to Buc252 and Vickie Moseley for the betas. You rescued this fic from certain doom. Also, thanks to Jenna and Xtreme Unction for the encouragement and inspiration. DEDICATION: To a friend of mine who loves emoticons and uses them with an uncanny, calculated precision. You are exceptional. Thank you for putting up with me. --------------- from "Hero of the Day" by Metallica Still the window burns Time so slowy turns And someone there is sighing Keepers of the flames Did you hear your names? Can you hear your babies crying? But now the dreams and waking screams That ever last the night So build the wall behind the crawl And hide until it's light So can't you hear your babies crying now? Mama, they try and break me --------------- RED CARRIAGE MOTEL SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA Teena The half-hidden flame of betrayal in your eyes pierces me, although you cannot see my ethereal form. Somehow, your gaze seems to hover on me for a moment. I'm glad you can't see me now, since my tears always hurt you. You were such a loving boy...a man now, but the raw nerve still remains. I never deserved you. I could never tell you the truth. I was terrified that you would hate me forever, and I wouldn't blame you if did. I let shadows take away the most precious aspect of both of our lives. She always looked at me and smiled when I was frozen by worry; she seemed to melt the problems away. Samantha was so brave... I know she once saw your father and I arguing over his plans for her. It was the day she was taken, and she walked right in on the conversation. Both of us instantly stopped yelling and just glared at each other. Her eyes turned red, and she ran to me. I caught her in my arms. We held each other for a short while before she gave in to her sobbing. That was a moment I would have traded my life to prevent, but each minute with her meant the world to me. She looked at me one last time...her expression wise beyond her years...and she told me, "Love you, Mom." Later that evening, when I heard you yelling her name, I knew she'd been taken. It felt as though she had drawn my own life away with her. Even that couldn't have recompensed her for my shameful quiescence during the previous six years. I lost both of you in that moment, really. The decision had already been made that you could not know the truth of her sacrifice, and I was sentenced to mislead you for the rest of my days. It was all very selfishly motivated. I let my fear govern your life, and I regret that more than anything. I hope you can hear me; I hope you're listening. The pen is willing, poised to write, but your soul is stubborn. You must have gotten that from your father. Please...I don't want to see you suffer any longer under the onus of my iniquity. What could I say, what could I possibly do to convince you to let go of your guilt, your frustration, and the pervasive, abysmal desolation that constantly threatens to engulf the last flicker of hope inside of you? This isn't meant for you. Your weary expression, the slump of your shoulders as you hold the pen... Finally, you are too tired to continue shutting out my attempts at communication. It's typical of you and one of the things that always made me the most proud. Your body invariably defers to its natural limits, but your will never gives in. You need to know, Fox, and the time has now come. I can merely show you where to look, but will you be open enough to believe the truth? After all these years of deception, I know you are scarred, your perception understandably skewed by misinformation and constant defilement. I made many of those marks...God help me. There is only one way for you to heal. Go, find Samantha. She's been waiting for you. --------------- APRIL AIR FORCE BASE Bill You have no idea how much it tears me in half to be here. I'm glad that you're physically well, and it's good to see you again, but... This is a damning place. I only wish our paths had intersected elsewhere. I made my decisions so carefully...so very meticulously. It was an unconscionable situation. I can't apologize for my intentions or for acting on them based on what information I had at the time. What I do deplore is how deeply you have been hurt by circumstances out of your control. As astute as you were for your young age, you weren't prepared to deal with such profound issues. No one was, really, but you and your mother took the brunt of the decision. I didn't want to relinquish either you or your sister to project. That's why they came and took her. I wouldn't hand her over. They referred to you as "collateral damage". I've been watching you, and they don't know how true that label was. You've been able to leash the rage and use that energy to fight them, but the determination is a faade that few see through. Your past has been much more in control of *you* than vice versa. This place, the crumbling house on Albatross Street, is painted with irony, furnished with regret, and built on a foundation of despair. The roof, with its shingles fashioned of pretense, has been decaying for years, letting the weather in. You've found it now, I see. The place carries an air of uneasy foreordination about it. The guards never stop for foot patrol here. You look to the structure for solutions, but it contains nothing of use. One of the answers lies at your feet. They knew she could not be allowed to survive. She shared a rebellious spirit with you, and everyone saw it. There were enough successful projects completed to allow the termination of intolerant subjects, or so they said. Her death was planned out from the beginning. I'm sure of it now. They knew that was the only way they could control me...threaten one of my children and murder the other just to prove they were serious. They said something unexpected happened at the hospital, but it doesn't change their intentions or the fact that she was torn from your life. I was shocked the first time I saw that house, too. It was years after she disappeared. The sight of the lonely streets lined with more prisons exactly like it, each holding innocent victims at one point, made me feel inhuman. I tried to reanalyze my actions so many times to see where I could have made the outcome different... None of that matters now. All of the children fell victim to the same malevolence Samantha did. It was quite a domino effect, and no one has been left standing. A dozen emotions flicker across your face, and I know that the disappointment and betrayal are directed toward me. The flames of your ire lick at my feet even now, but proceed with caution, for the wind can quickly turn back on you. The man accompanying you has broken your concentration, distracted you from your original reason for coming here. This is your culmination, the place where you must regain the control that you didn't even know you'd lost. I'm impressed, no, humbled by you, by your journey. If only I'd told you that when I had the chance... Now the wounds have been reopened, and you're totally excluding me. Understandable. It's a logical tactic. I'm grateful that you gave me the opportunity to guide you from this celestial asylum five years ago. You're so close now. It is said that our souls cannot rest until death, or perhaps ever. The anguish you've carried since that dark November day has made you a rare exception...a living martyr. If you must refuse to hear me, at least listen to your own weary soul. --------------- RED CARRIAGE MOTEL MULDER'S ROOM Teena It's been such a long time since I last saw you sleeping peacefully. The innocent, peaceful look on your face reminds me of when you were just a little boy, still free of adult burdens and concerns. How I wish I could hold your hand again, soothing away childish fears with soft words, and know that you look up to me, admire me... I didn't give you anything to respect then, but now I can still do one thing for you... I can release you from the past that still confines me in its grip. The nightmares can end. They're abating already. Somehow, you've sensed that the answer is nearby. You refused to allow yourself to rest for so long...it's almost consumed you. The last time I stood at your bedside, you were catatonic, staring past me with blank eyes. We had such a chasm between us, but I couldn't stand seeing you strapped to a hospital bed, unable to communicate. I saw a question in your eyes, though, and I'm here to answer it now. It came too late for me, Fox. Please hear me out. You've been looking for Samantha, trying to justify your life by the search itself, for so long that you've forgotten your own value. Samantha is here; she's always been right here, by your side. She still looks up to her big brother, and for good reason, but you must do one thing for her before she can help you heal. You have to let her go. --------------- VICTORVILLE, CALIFORNIA Samantha You've always been there for me. When I was very little and the nightmares woke me up, you were there to chase the shadows away. When I fell from the swing and hurt my shoulder, you were the first person to call for help, the first to tell me everything would be okay. You held my hand and let me squeeze yours as hard as I wanted when the broken bones rubbed together. You let me cry on your favorite T-shirt. When Mom and Dad argued, you tried to protect me from their angry words. You even played games with me. I told all the kids at school, maybe even bragged a little. No one else had a bigger brother who would pay much attention to them. I always knew you were the best. Then. they came for me. I don't remember exactly what happened; all I saw was a bright light. I didn't want to leave. They wouldn't even let me scream. I can't explain it, but I heard you shout my name, and it seemed like you were inside my head. That moment scared me more than any other, because I could feel your fear and your anger. It was a part of you I had never known before, and it was so strong. Your emotions were almost as frightening as the realization that I was being taken away from you. I watched as you read my diary. Everything in there was true, but there is something I never included. After they took me away and started doing the tests, you stayed with me, inside my head. After a while, they said they were having problems with my results, so they started asking me lots of questions. They found out that I could still hear you. I didn't mean to tell, I swear, but they gave me some kind of drug. The following day, I had an operation. I spent the next six years alone. It was only after...after I tried to run away from the hospital, that I could remember you. You would have been proud of me. For years, while they stuck me with needles or cut me open, I wasn't afraid. I tried my best to be just like you, brave and grown-up. Then, the night I attempted to escape, a policeman took me to the hospital, and something weird happened. I tried to get of bed, but started feeling sleepy. It was different than usual. Somehow, I knew I wouldn't wake up. Even when I thought about leaving you and Mom behind and began to cry, I wasn't afraid. I closed my eyes, and I woke up here. It's such a peaceful place, but immediately your voice was in my head again. You called out my name over and over. Everyone else here seemed so carefree and happy, but I couldn't join them when I knew that you were in such pain. You never stopped yelling my name, Fox. I've been right here the whole time. I've even tried to talk to you, let you know that I'm all right, many, many times, but you've always shut me out. You call to me, but you won't let me in. Over the years, I've learned to accept your frustration, the feelings of helplessness, and even the inward anger, far from which you never seem to stray, but I can't overcome your disbelief. I can tell you're almost there, just on the edge of accepting where I've gone. I've seen so many other kids have family members visit from their sleep or in their prayers. Eventually, we all meet in person, but I'm still waiting for that first visit from you. It's your move, Buttmunch. --------------- THE END OF THE ROAD "Mulder, what happened? Are you sure you're all right?" "I'm fine." He turned his face upward, basking in dim light cast from stars suspended in the raven-hued heavens. So many nights, all he could see was the void between the interspersed, twinkling pinpoints, but tonight was different. "I'm free." He stood there motionless for a moment, unwilling to disturb the reverent peace that had settled around him. He closed his eyes, and the permeating silence was replaced with soft laughter, chattering, and songs of puerile delight. The voices of children surrounded him, dancing gleefully around him before floating up to the stars. Mulder sensed that his earthly tether might snap and leave him to ascend with the chorus. Suddenly, he felt the metaphysical jolt of Scully's hand on his shoulder, and the voices faded into the background. She didn't say anything; she merely squeezed his shoulder, letting him know that she was there if he needed her. He turned around and wrapped her in his arms, holding her close. She moved one hand from his shoulder to the back of his head. Her fingers ruffled his hair, and she pulled his head down, encouraging him to rest on her shoulder. He smiled for a moment. Scully had always been his rock. She gave him legs when the rest of the world seemed to fall away, but this time he felt the strength to stand on his own, perhaps even support her, as well. He knew she had been and still was extremely concerned about his emotional well-being during this investigation. He spread his fingers out on the rough fabric of her trenchcoat and gently pulled her against him, savoring the reassuring warmth of her body. Mulder closed his eyes, pushing a single tear over the edge. It left a warm trail down his face and disappeared into the black surface of Scully's coat. When he opened them again, he saw all of the children standing in a spectral circle around him and Scully, holding hands and smiling. His breath caught in his chest as time stood still. Two of the children parted, and Samantha emerged from the darkness. She ran forward, spreading her arms wide, and embraced them both. Chills ran up his spine, and he was flooded with a sense of completion. He looked down at her over Scully's shoulder, then back up. There, beyond the living halo of children, stood his mother and father. Their mouths moved in synchrony, forming three words. He didn't need to actually hear them. He knew exactly what they were saying this time. Mulder squeezed his eyes shut, dampening Scully's shoulder once again. The chorus returned, and beside him, Samantha's voice whispered in his ear. "You're not done yet, but when you are, I'll be right here, waiting for the best big brother in the world." Immediately, the voices began to fade. He looked up, and the images were also quickly disappearing. He glanced down to see Samantha's bright eyes and smile gleaming at him just before she completely vanished. Mulder took a deep breath and straightened up, releasing Scully from his embrace. She looked into his eyes for a moment then nodded her head slightly. With a hint of a grin, she placed one hand on his shoulder and guided him toward the car. They both knew the truth. It was time to move on.