From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: Tue, 29 Feb 2000 02:36:40 -0600 Subject: A New Day by Cher Source: direct Reply To: Ximina@hotmail.com Title: A New Day Author: Cher A. Email: Ximina@hotmail.com WebHome: http://members.theglobe.com/ximina/default.html Category: V, S Spoilers: Closure, Emily Rating: G Archive: Yes Author's note at the end Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully don't belong to me, nor do any of the other characters I allude to. They all belong to CC & 1013. Title: A New Day By: Cher A ~*~*~*~ The cold water flows through the washcloth as I wring it. I bring the damp towel to my face, pressing with hard fingers against my temples and eyes. For now, pain is bearable, but if I don't deal with it soon I will have a migraine. My migraines, though few and infrequent, take several days to overcome. ~*~*~*~ "I'm free." He spoke words that I would normally have been happy to hear. Under the circumstances, I took no great pleasure in them. I have seen Mulder driven to extremes looking for a way to end his suffering. Looking for truth in forsaken theories and the X-files. He wanted an ending. It was convenient that Harold Piller arrived and provided him with an acceptable solution. I hoped he would come with me when I told him I was returning to Washington. The flash of emotion on his face as I gave him my immediate decision almost broke my heart He wanted me to stay and search with him. But to find it in starlight and walk-ins, spiritual interventions from old souls who have foreknowledge of a child's horrendous future? I myself would rather believe in guardian angels. But it doesn't matter what you name them. They are still phantoms I cannot validate. Mulder showed me the handprints in the cement. Two hands with names, a monument for two victims to a cause they were used by. And I wonder about Agent Spender, his foster sister, Cassandra. Did he care for her in any capacity? Is it possible that Agent Spender realized who Mulder was to Samantha before his end? ~*~*~*~ I wander into the kitchen, to the cupboard that holds my first aid kit. I take out the bottle of Excedrin and plop out a couple of gel-caps into the palm of my hand. A sip of wine from the half full glass left on the counter earlier that night will smooth the pills progress into my stomach. ~*~*~*~ Cancer Man told me Samantha was dead. I knew I couldn't believe Cancer Man. That shadow creature, at every turn, has tried to stall our progress in any way conceivable. I should have kicked Cancer Man out, but I hoped to find an expanded version of truth. Mulder was right. His mother was trying to tell him something. I won't vilify his mother, but I am convinced that Teena Mulder knew where Samantha was located until her second disappearance and subsequent death. Arbutis Ray experienced a brief portent for a child-woman she did not know. I wonder if Teena Mulder also foreshadowed her daughter's death? Samantha has been an all-consuming obsession with Mulder: Connecting with her, finding her again safe and whole. Mulder's someday was now, and it was unlike his lifelong vision. The diary of her thoughts, found in that eerie house, and an embrace with a ghost in his arms, so real to him, were the catalysts in his final acceptance of her death. It was the end of his road. ~*~*~*~ The throbbing is above my right brow, occasionally throwing a stabbing pain into the right eye. I pull away the washcloth from my face and glance at it. At least it's not covered with blood. The tightness on the right side of my neck is beginning, along with that side of my face. ~*~*~*~ Why wasn't Emily taken into the starlight? My small beautiful little girl who was never truly a part of me. A little girl never meant for this world. Her sweet soul was just as precious. Her suffering was just as agonizing. Her body did not disintegrate like one of the alien hybrids when death occurs. Her body did not liquefy, oozing her green blood, bubbling like acid melting metal. Her body was just gone. Maybe she was in the starlight with the walk-ins. Wherever she is, she is dead, like the womb inside me. What do I believe? I believe in God. I believe Emily has a soul. I know she is gone and wherever she is, she is in a better place. I know all the other children are in a better place. I know Samantha is there also. I believe in Mulder. Where does that leave me? ~*~*~*~ I pick up the ringing cell phone and answer it. It will be Mulder; only he would call at this time of night. "Yes. I'm fine. My head hurts. No I don't need anything. Thanks, but no. Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow." ~*~*~*~ I'm glad Mulder has found his closure. I'm glad the wound open for twenty plus years has begun to heal. I'm glad the peace he deserves is within his reach. I'm glad he has accepted her death. I'm glad he believes and he understands what happened, because I don't. "I'm free." He said. He looked free. His head tilted, staring as if through belladonna-laced eyes at the billions of stars shining down upon us. At the time I had the irrational urge to reach out and steady him, though he was standing still his feet firmly planted in the cement. The unsteady gait he traveled during this confusing period has gradually abated. And though I was with him physically, his isolation was apparent. He found his balance without my help. With his lifelong quest resolved I can't help but wonder where he will lead us when we resume our journey. Together we will walk taking the steps and paths into an unknown future. Leading to a place I hope will bring my own closure. ~*~*~*~ The head pain is gone. My eyes are still closed and still covered by the compress now warm against my face. The room temperature is chilly from the earliness of the morning. Dawn is breaking, I imagine the myriad of colors chasing the blackness away. I remove the towel from my face, seeing the day shoo away the night. I grab my phone, tapping the autodial. I bring the phone to my ear, waiting for the ringing to stop. A sleepy growly voice answers with dire threats. I can't help but chuckle. "It's me, want to go to breakfast?" ~*~*~*~ Beta thanks to Michelle and Laura! Author's note: I couldn't get past Scully's expression at the end of the episode. Yes, there's love and compassion, but there's also a hint of disbelief. Thanks to Scullyfic for the migraine nightmares, it was inspiring! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Ximina's address: http://members.theglobe.com/ximina/default.html Scully, I love you.- Mulder (Triangle)