From: Deanna Dilbeck Date: Thu, 12 Apr 2001 16:25:34 -0400 Subject: submission to gossamer and spooky's Source: direct Title: Forgotten Scents Author: Deanna Dilbeck e-mail: dilbeck613@aol.com Spoilers: vague, very vague to Three Words and Dead Alive and Per magnum Classification: MSR, Angst Category: Vignette, MPOV Rating: PG Disclaimer: Unfortunately they don't belong to me, if they did I would definitely treat them better than CC and company Summary: Mulder realizes what is truly important. Notes: I wrote a piece a couple of days ago called shattered Pieces, which took a long drag on my (shall we say) displeasure over Mulder's attitude in Three Words. But after much thinking and your kind words of encouragement and disagreement I have to try and touch on why Mulder is in such a snip. I hope I've done the job I started out to do. Feedback: Please - I live for praise! Archive: I'll post to Gossamer, anywhere else just let me know. Forgotten SCents by Deanna Dilbeck April 12, 2001 Everything ached, his head, his joints, his mind, but most of all his heart. He had let every minute of his search for truth consume him. And now, now that's how he felt, consumed. He had been so bent on finding his answers, that he had forgotten the questions that had started it all. Everyone and everything around him had changed. They even smelt different. Skinner called Scully by her first name. Scully was moody, crying at the drop of a hat and wonderfully, beautifully, pregnant, with what, he could only hope, was his child. Hell, he didn't even have the forethought or the desire to ask her. Maybe he didn't really want to know the answer after all. He had been through so much, and unlike most who had been taken, he could picture each test, feel each hurt, like it was happening all over again, and again. He hadn't slept in days, the dreams were too vivid. He had avoided Scully, and everyone else, fearing the looks and the questions, he knew they all wanted to ask him. He knew they all must think him mad, or on the verge of a mental collapse. But he just couldn't deal with it all, not right now, maybe not ever. He sank down into the couch and stared at the blank television screen, he mind replaying everything, sorting through and rationalizing, seeking a resolution, but finding only loneliness. He needed Scully, he needed her so desperately that he ached inside with it. He wanted nothing more that to pick up the phone and call her, just to listen to her breath across the phone lines. But he didn't call. He only curled up on the couch, clutching his blanket to his chest. A scent clung to it, vaguely familiar, causing him to pull it closer to his face. Scully. The scent was Scully. He brought it up and over his lips and nose, inhaling deeply, and as he breathed out, the release he needed escaped as well. Tears of pain, agony and grief splashed down onto the blanket and soaked through. He pulled tighter into a ball of misery and let the sobs claim him, hoping that their release might release him as well. Release him to live again; to love again; to find purpose. He needed his purpose back. He needed Scully back. As the tears washed away the sorrow and the hurt, he reached for his phone. Pushing the number one speed dial, he waited, what seemed an eternity, until he heard... "Scully." "It's me, I need you." The rasp of his voice carried across the phone lines and into Scully heart. "I'll be right there, Mulder. I'll be right there." Her voice broke as she disconnected. He pulled the blanket closer, holding onto it tightly breathing in her scent, his mind slowly coming to a peaceful place, a place where all was right with the world. A place that only one person could help him find, and he knew soon, soon she would be here.