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  This author's e-mail address has changed to: xanaduxf@yahoo.com
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***DISCLAIMER***: All "X-Files" elements and references
in this story belong to Fox Broadcasting, Chris Carter,
and 1013 Productions, and I am making no money from it.

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It Matters
by shannono
shannono@iname.com


Vignette, Angst, Mulder first person

Rated PG

Spoilers through "Emily"

Summary: Mulder thinks about his fears as they relate to his
partner. (Companion piece to "All I Have To Fear.")

Comments: Okay, so now it's Mulder's turn. I used this
vignette to answer a couple of questions I've had. One, why
is it, really, that Mulder hates for others to use his first
name? Two, if "nothing else matters" besides finding Samantha,
how could he have given her up so easily in "Redux II"? For my
version of the answers, keep reading .

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It Matters
by shannono


She scares me.

Yeah, I know, I'm supposed to be "the big macho man," chasing
after demons and shadows with wild abandon. And usually
dragging her along, when I'm not ditching her to run off on my
own.

But she scares me. She reaches deep inside me, grabs hold of
whatever she can, and tugs, pulling me ever closer to her,
drawing me ever deeper within, until I don't think I will
ever escape. Until I don't know if I ever want to.

And that's why I'm afraid.

All my life, or at least two-thirds of my life, I've been alone.
I've gotten used to it. From the time my sister was taken, I've
lived as if in a bubble, never getting too close, never letting
others near. My parents, my friends, even my girlfriends, have
never gotten inside with me.

Until her.

Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully, M.D. She marched her little
self into my basement enclave six years ago, stuck out her hand
- and I was lost. Lost in her youth, lost in her intelligence,
lost in her smile.

Oh, I tried to shake her up, tried to make her believe all the
"Spooky Mulder" stories I knew she'd heard at the Academy. "Do
you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?" I asked.
And, as I expected, she came back with logic, science, skepticism.

But she was fascinated. I recognized the look on her face when
she saw the slides for that first case. It was a look I knew had
been on my face many, many times in my live: Awe, interest,
wonder, even a little confusion. She didn't understand what
she saw, and that captivated her.

As much as she captivated me.

To tell you the truth, I don't know to this day whether she came
inside my little bubble of a world, or if she just ripped it
wide enough open to let a little of me out. I don't really care,
either. Whether she's in here with me, or I'm out there with her,
we're bound together. Irrevocably.

They've tried so much to break the thread that holds us together.
Closing the X-Files only strengthened our resolve. Taking her
may have torn *me* apart, but our bond stayed intact. They've
tried drugs, clones, shapeshifters, even her own flesh and blood.

Still, the tie remains.

I've fought so many internal battles over her. Should I tell her
where I'm going this time, or just try to explain when I get back?
Should I tell her everything I know about her abduction? Should I
tell her about seeing Samantha last fall?

Should I tell her what I really feel for her?

"Tell her what I really feel." Now there's a joke. I can't even
tell it to myself. I *know* it, as surely as I know she'd give up
her life to assure mine for me. As I would do for her, in a heartbeat.

But to actually think the words, much less *say* them, is simply
beyond my capacity, at least for now. Maybe someday .

There's so much I keep inside, hidden away from her. For instance,
I've never told her the real reason I don't want anyone to call me
by my first name. Even her. Oh, my mom calls me that, despite my
best efforts. And I don't really mind when her mom does, mainly
because I so rarely see her.

I'm sure Scully thinks, like everyone else, that I use my last name
as a defense mechanism, a wall to keep people from getting too
close. And that's true, to a point. Using last names keeps it
distant, even with Scully. She's closer to me than anyone, and
I rarely use her first name.

Even though I almost always think of her as Dana.

But that's beside the point. With me, it's more than just a way to
stay detached. Hearing my first name rips open wide the old wounds,
the ones that have never healed.

Every time I hear my name spoken aloud, all I can see is a bright
light and my sister being pulled from me.

My name was the last thing I ever heard her say.

I told Scully about Samantha's disappearance on that first case, just
a few days after we met. I sat on my hotel room floor in the dark
beside the bed, a thunderstorm raging outside and a conflict raging
within me. My brand-new partner had just thrown herself at me, not in
the usual sense, but out of terror and confusion. She'd trusted me
enough to show me a glimpse of both the woman and the little girl
she covered with her professional demeanor.

My conflict: could I trust her as well?

I didn't know then, not that night. But it wasn't long before I did.
She may have been sent to spy on me, but that was the last thing on
her mind. "I'm not part of any agenda," she said, clarity shining
from her clear blue eyes as she lay curled up on the bed, her hair
still wet from her trek through the rain.

I wanted to believe.

So I fought with myself, with my fears, and managed to open a part
of myself, telling her about my sister's abduction. But I tempered
my revelations with a warning -- I told her my whole life, my whole
career, was centered around finding her, or at least finding out
what really happened to her. I told her, "nothing else matters,"
and I meant it. Then.

Now, it's different.

It matters. *She* matters.

And that's why I'm afraid.