From: "Julie Cantrell" Date: Sun, 27 Feb 2000 20:18:10 EST Subject: Submission: For the Rest of His Life Source: direct X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X Title: For the Rest of His Life Author: Julie Cantrell Rating: PG (for a couple objectionable words). Category: V / A Spoilers: "Closure" Keywords: Implied M/S DAL Summary: The case is closed. What's left for Mulder? Post-ep for "Closure", Mulder POV. (Written based on spoilers prior to the airing of the ep). Feedback: xfsista@hotmail.com accepts it heartily! Archive: DO NOT ARCHIVE at Gossamer (I've already done that). Xemplary and Spooky Awards are okay. All others just ask. Disclaimers: All of the following characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Twentieth Century Fox Television. No infringement is intended. All of my stories can be found @ the FBI (aka The Federal Bureau of Imagination) http://fbimagination.faithweb.com/ along with my growing collection of XF collages. Huge thanks to Char Chaffin, author and beta extraordianaire, for her help and encouragement. I couldn't do this without you. More dedications and notes at the end! :) X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X For the Rest of His Life by Julie Cantrell X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X She's dead. There was nothing else left to say. He stared at his report expecting enlightenment. Maybe just a feeling in his gut to say that the words he typed were wrong. All he received were the words "X-file #98-785749 is officially closed" and a cursor blinking at him angrily for accepting his sister's death. It was over. He had found his Holy Grail only to learn that someone else had found it before he had even discovered its existence. He wanted to be angry. Angry at Samantha for having the gall to die before he found her. Angry at his mother for taking her own life and leaving him to deal with it alone. Angry at his father for choosing his sister over him. Angry at the Smoker for the lies. But in reality, he was angry at himself for wanting it to be over with. He had accepted the fact that his sister was never coming back all too easily and it hurt like hell. The cursor continued to blink at him irritatingly. He sighed and swiveled his chair toward the wall. I WANT TO BELIEVE. The bold letters pounded on his already tender psyche, taunting him relentlessly. Believe in what? What was Samantha? Yes, she was his sister, but if she had lived, what would she have become? Would he have even known her if he passed her on the street. During his search for her, he had liked to believe that he would know her anywhere. He liked to believe that she would be grateful to him for dedicating his life to her. Would she have been grateful? It scared him to realize that somewhere along the way, his sister had become less of a person and more of an idea. He only had recollections of an eight year old girl. His ideal sister was always a child in his mind. His mind, his life. They had become nothing but a shamble. His life's pursuit no longer existed. He'd given up happiness and creature comforts for an idea that would never become a reality. Look at him. No wife. No family. A cold, empty apartment that was as comforting as any of the ratty motels across the country. It was really just a place where he slept when he was in D.C. It wasn't a home. It never would be. He suddenly felt empty and alone. He was so damn tired. Tired of the chase. Tired of searching for elusive truths. Tired of waking up in the middle of the night and realizing that his sister was dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. But at least, no one could hurt her now. It wasn't the truth he wanted to hear, but it was oddly comforting to know that she could no longer be preyed upon by the evil injustices of the world. God, what a waste of a life. Strangely, he understood that he wasn't talking about Samantha's life, but his own. The years were gone and could never be replaced. His eyes strayed to the poster once more. The UFO hanging among the trees. Hanging out of reach, just like the truth. Nothing. He had nothing to show for his life. He suddenly leaped from his chair and ripped the poster down, tearing it into a thousand shreds. No more! He wasn't going to let the truth keep him from living. He would have a home, a career, and goddamn it, if he wanted, he'd even get a dog. And most of all, he wasn't going to let his truth hurt Scully anymore. Scully. It was the thing that made him most angry. His beloved partner and friend had suffered more from his quest than he had himself. She lost her chance of a family, a social life, and a career. She risked her life and reputation for his sake on more occasions than he'd care to count. If he deserved a chance at happiness, then she did too, only more so. She deserved not only a home and a family, but she should have the fairy tale. Not just the little things, but the pot of gold, too. She deserved happiness and so much more. He fell heavily into his chair. Pieces of the ripped up poster were scattered around him. He wanted to kick and scream, cry and tear the world to shreds. It wasn't fair. It wasn't supposed to end this way. It was supposed to end happily ever after with his sister returned *alive* and Scully at his side. But, it wasn't to be. Samantha was dead. She was never coming back. Never. And Scully, his dear, dear Scully, was going to be separated from him. She didn't know it, yet, but he had decided that it was best that way. "But you need her," his selfish side argued vehemently. "My need isn't worth her life," he told himself. "You'll never survive without Scully." He was becoming bitchy now. "No shit." Had his mood been better, he would have laughed at his ability to be a smart ass even to himself. But his mood was melancholy and he didn't quite feel like laughing. He might never laugh again. His life was over. A middle aged man with nothing. Click. Clack. Click. Clack. The steady cadence of Scully's heels reverberated throughout the basement corridor. Each step bounced off the walls announcing her presence. Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Then, a moment of silence. The knob turned and the door slowly squeaked open. Scully stood in the doorway and looked at her partner of seven years. She offered a small wordless smile. It was a tender reminder to Mulder. Her eyes told him that he wasn't alone, that she was there. He did have a home, as long as they were together. She sent waves of love through those eyes. She let him know that it was okay to be angry and to be sad, but not to let them consume him. Mostly, though, she told him that the search wasn't over. Not as long as there were other truths to be told. Other lives to be saved. Other hearts to mend. His fight had become hers, too. And, she needed him as much as he needed her. As he gazed into her eyes and tried to draw warmth from her smile, he found the courage to smile back. He saved his report and hit the print button using his mouse. Once it was finished, he grabbed the printout and slipped his jacket on. Side by side, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully walked to the Assistant Director's office. Out of the corner of his eye, Mulder looked at his pretty partner. Had Samantha never disappeared, he would never have known this incredible woman called Scully. He cautiously slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. She returned the hug with all of her strength. He took and deep breath as they pulled back from one another. This time, her eyes flashed something he had almost forgot about. Hope. Without the promise of finding his sister alive and well, he had forgotten hope. But, Scully reminded him. Maybe the rest of his life wouldn't be so bad after all. X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X In addition to Char, I need to thank Amy for seeing past disagreements and giving her opinion. Not everyone could have done that. Thanks for the encouragement. Also, this is dedicated to my Sunday Night Chat gang: Arial, Amber, Misch, and my XF sista, Leigh! Thanks for helping me unravel the mystery every week! Last, but not least, Spookyteacher. The most loyal of friends. Gals like you don't come along every day. I'm glad you are my friend. X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X Author's Notes: (written prior to "Closure" airing) There's really not much to say about this piece. It's just a little introspection into Mulder's tattered emotional state post-Samantha. I had been avoiding spoilers, but the pull of knowing the truth about what happened to Samantha was too much for me to resist. Once I read them, I was a little shocked and a little grief stricken. Yeah, I know that she's a fictional character, but after watching Mulder search for so many years, the answer was just too bittersweet. I couldn't even begin to imagine what Mulder's emotional state would be. I couldn't get it off my mind, so this little story serves as a way for me to figure it out as much as I can. Please, let me know what you think (xfsista@hotmail.com). Was it on target or not? I'd really like to know. Thanks! :) Author's Notes, Part Two: (after "Closure") Wow! Powerful episode, folks. The only thing I can add is that despite Mulder's relief at his search being over, he still has a lot of grieving to do. I hope this piece shows that! :) Written February 10 - 11, 2000. X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X