From nojorojo@aol.com Wed May 28 19:41:10 1997 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: NEW: "Number One Crush" (1/1) by NojoRojo From: nojorojo@aol.com (NojoRojo) -------- Number One Crush (1/1) by NojoRojo@aol.com (written 5/22/97) DISCLAIMER: The characters presented here are the property of Twentieth Century-Fox and Ten-Thirteen Productions. No copyright infringement is intended. "#1 Crush" by Garbage is also used without permission. The lyrics are posted at the end of the story. SPOILERS: "Gethsemane" and, to some degree, "The Blessing Way." SUMMARY: Scully's reaction to the events in "Gethsemane." This is not a happy story, folks. RATING: PG AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm donning my flame-retardant jammies now. I'm writing this with the assumption that Scully was *not* in on the "plan." OK to archive anywhere; just keep my name attached please! Thanks as always to Cafe UST. On with the show... ~~~~~~~~~~~ I fumble in my pocket for the keys to his apartment. I'm not really sure why I came. Maybe to erase the memory of the last time I walked through this door; I don't know. I finally find the key and insert it into the lock. I'm dimly aware that my hand is steady, and this surprises me somehow. I twist the key and nudge the door open. Once inside, I set the bottle of wine I'm carrying on the kitchen counter and go in search of a glass. No, that's not exactly right. I'm not searching. I *know* where the glasses are. I know this apartment almost better than my own, a testament to the countless late-night vigils I've spent here after he ditched me, trying in any way I can to help him. I remember the futile calls to the Lone Gunmen, the desperate masking-tape X's, the bitter tears cried on the leather sofa. Well, one more night for old times' sake. I find a tumbler, open the wine, and carry both to the couch. The late afternoon sun filters through the blinds, illuminating motes of dust as they spin through the otherwise still room. What stirs them? A ghost? The breath of the dead? Is he here? I pour the wine and raise a silent toast to the unseen. I drink deeply, and am slightly amused at my flight of fancy. He would smile at me, were he here. I wait for the wisecrack that will never come. I pick up the bottle. Merlot. The same wine Eddie Van Blundht brought me. I wonder at my reasons for selecting it. A way to feel closer to *him*, I suppose; only it wasn't him, was it? Another red herring, another imposter, another lie. But as close as I'll ever get to what might have been. I drain the first glass and pour another, sitting back to savor it. I hold it up to the fading light, studying its hue, deep purple with ruby glints. The color of passion. I feel prickling behind my eyelids. You gave up too easily. What was going through his mind, in those last few moments? Did he hate me for exposing the lie? Did he really want to go on believing so badly, at any cost? But you never really believed in *me*, did you? You bastard. I did it all to save you, not to hurt you. I gave you everything I had. I gave you what wasn't mine to give. I make a fist and slam it into the leather. It feels so satisfying that I do it again. And again. And again and again until I taste salt. Tears slide down my cheeks and into the corners of my mouth. I swipe at them impatiently and my hand comes away red-stained. Another fucking nosebleed. Damn it, I wasn't supposed to outlive you. You gave me the strength to go on trying. You wouldn't let me give up. You forced me to face the most horrifying of spectres, to carry on with you, to never leave you. But you didn't show me the same courtesy. "You're a damned coward." I speak aloud to the empty room. My stomach clenches like a fist. The problem is, I don't know if I'm talking to him or myself. There have been no midnight visitations this time, as there were after New Mexico. No eloquent dream speeches heralding an imminent return. I have been abandoned yet again. But this will be the last time. "Will you wait for me? I won't be far behind you." But even as I say the words, I picture him, eyes gleaming, running off on the ultimate adventure into the unknown. I believe there is something beyond the life we know here; it's been ingrained in me from birth. But more than that, it's been something I've clung to these last few months, in the hope that I'll be able to continue with him after my passing, looking over his shoulder, helping in some small way. I want to believe I can still whisper my skeptical rebuttals in his ear, keep him on track, even if he can't hear me. Did he ever hear me anyway? I want to believe that he did. I want to believe that he hears me still. I want to believe. "Damn it, Mulder." My voice breaks on his name. "I would have died for you." I *am* dying for you. Is this how he felt, with the knowledge of the cancer eating my life away? Was it finally too much for him? Is this my fault somehow, too? I sigh. My eternal fate seems to be to fail the men I love. The sun is dying. Deep pools of darkness spread through the room. The wine is almost gone. I walk to Mulder's closet and pull out his favorite sweatshirt. I pull it over my head, seeking to banish the chill that seems to be seeping into my very bones. I inhale deeply. It smells of him. My heart breaks anew. I curl up on the couch once more as the last of the sunset slips below the horizon. A vague bluish glow from the streetlamp outside chills the room. I pour myself the last of the wine and raise the glass with tears in my eyes. "I love you. Forever." My service revolver is a comforting weight in my palm. I caress it with my thumb as I trickle the last drops of Merlot down my throat. I push the barrel past my lips, between my teeth. It feels strange. My salvation is cold, hard steel. I'm coming, Mulder. Wait for me. The last thing I hear as I squeeze the trigger is the familiar trilling of my cel phone. ~~~~~~~~~~ In an undisclosed location, a man at a pay phone sighs impatiently. "Damn it, Scully, answer your phone." THE END. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ There. I told you it was horrible! Feedback to NojoRojo@aol.com. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ #1 CRUSH I would die for you I would die for you I've been dying just to feel you by my side To know that you're mine I will cry for you I will cry for you I will wash away your pain with all my tears And drown your fear I will pray for you I will pray for you I will sell my soul for something pure and true Someone like you See your face every place that I walk in Hear your voice every time that I'm talkin' You will believe in me And I will never be ignored I will burn for you Feel pain for you I will twist the knife and bleed my aching heart And tear it apart I will lie for you Beg and steal for you I will crawl on hands and knees until you see You're just like me Violate all the love that I'm missin' Throw away all the pain that I'm livin' You will believe in me And I can never be ignored I would die for you I would kill for you I will steal for you I'd do time for you I will wait for you I'd make room for you I'd sail ships for you To be close to you To be part of you 'Cause I believe in you I believe in you I would die for you -- Garbage, 1995, from the soundtrack to "Romeo + Juliet."