From: Felix27@aol.com
Date: Fri, 30 Jan 1998 01:36:11 EST
Subject: 

Title:          Petrification
Author:         Odessa
E-mail:         HTWGM@aol.com
Rating:         PG
Category:       V
Spoilers:       Paper Clip
Keywords:       Alternate Universe 
Summary:        Melissa Scully is dead and the last scene of 'Paper Clip' didn't 
happen.


Disclaimer:  Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox own the Scullys and Mulder.  I own the 
Goose lady in this story.

Author's Note: E flat.
Just to clarify, in this story the scene where Scully tells Mulder of her sister's death 
doesn't happen.  That's basically the premise.  (oh and forgive me if I can't spell 
Serento right. I have no idea what the correct spelling is)




"God!  I wish it had been you.  I wish to every god I don't believe in it was you.  Why 
can't you be dead?  For that matter why couldn't you have just left me alone?  Why 
did you give her to me only to take her away like that? Why? Why? Why?!  GET 
OUT!!"

The bottle in his hand flew across the room.  Scully stood like a mountain as the 
sound of shattering glass exploded a foot and a half to the right of her head.  Her 
movements were fluid and her eyelids sunk down like lead shields to protect her 
eyes.

The numbing shock that had come with Mulder's unexpectedly wild grief at her 
sister's funeral had worn off two minutes into that morning's outburst.  She had felt 
the shards embed themselves into the side of her face.  What she hadn't felt was any 
physical pain.  Inside she was stone cold.

Her emotional and somewhat sensory petrification had begun at the moment her 
eyes had met her mothers.  Her eyes had met cold eyes and the feeling of crystalline 
stiffness had invaded her.  It started at the back of her eyes and swiftly traveled the 
paths of her unshed tears to the back of her throat. She could neither cry nor speak 
words of comfort to her family.  Comprehension failed her as the depth the 
relationship between her partner and sister was brought to light.  His drowning eyes 
and shining cheeks had told all.

They screamed as opposed to spoke to her.

'Your fault.  Your fault.  All your fault.'

They chanted those words while at the same time sobbing broken paragraphs about 
how she was to blame for his knowledge of happiness and hope.  Of how she was 
his twisted eve, bringer of knowledge better left unknown.  To him she was the devil 
who brought pain by allowing him to find peace in the form of her sister.  Those 
same told her how she made it possible for him to differentiate between the two 
feelings...

The blaming went on and on.

As did the scenery racing past her window.

As did the train carrying her closer and closer to her new home.

As did everything in life.
Without regard for individual grief or need for a man's love.




The crowds hustled and bustled from station to train and vice versa.  They pushed 
and shoved, jostled and grumbled their way to whatever destination they had fixed 
in their minds, but even those primitive beings who had only their on goals in mind 
stepped away from the woman approaching the newly arrived train.




Dana looked out the car's doorway and saw the crowds part.  Their movements 
were unconscious yet precise.  They created a perfect path to the entrance of the 
car.  The form that stood before her smiled and offered Dana her hand.  "Welcome 
to Serento, Dana.  I'm Goose.  I'll be your supervisor from here on out."

Hands shook and...


...And the good times began.



To be continued in: Good Times



Reply to HTWGM@aol.com