From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 30 Oct 2002 21:52:25 -0000
Subject: Pluto by Oracle
Source: direct

Reply To: apollostemple@yahoo.com


Author: Oracle
Title: Pluto
Classification: VA 
Rated: PG
Key Words: MulderAngst, implied MSR
Spoilers: Seasons 7 through 9, but set post-NIHT 
and pre-The Truth.  
Disclaimer: I do not claim to own these 
characters. I'm just a puppeteer. 
Archive: Gossamer, please. Email me before 
archiving elsewhere. I don't see why I'd refuse.
Summary: He has reached his distant planet now,
after searching for so long.


Comments: This story has not been beta-ed, 
because I didn't have time. It's short, it's 
weird, it's angsty, and it might not make sense 
to everyone. In fact, it might not make sense 
to anyone! <g> 


--------------------------------------


"o come, terrible anonymity;enfold
phantom me with the murdering minus of cold..."
- e.e. cummings




This is the way stories end, Mulder thinks.

Sitting somewhere along a pier, in the moonlight. Silently 
waiting for nothing to happen. 

The night is a silver vision, cool and vast. He watches 
gentle waves break on the beach, his eyes following the 
lacy ripples as they sink into the sand. The ocean is 
spread out before him - an inviting, silken universe. 
But he knows it would be cold as Pluto. 

He has reached his distant planet now, after searching 
for so long. 

Stooped over the sea like an old, weary fisherman, 
Mulder is drenched by epiphany. There are no answers 
to any questions, no balms to any wounds. There is 
only this night, encircling him, choking him with 
gentle icy fingers. The day does not matter at 
this hour.

Even Scully seems remote. After all, even the brightest 
star is billions of miles from earth.

Scully once held him in the fading glow of passion, and 
told him she would never be with another man. Even if 
you were gone, she said, I wouldn't do it. I couldn't do 
it, she said. And he kissed the soft hollow behind her 
ear, not sure how to reply.

Much later, hundreds of people learned that Scully was 
carrying his child. At the time, Mulder was not one of 
them. Mulder was dead.

John Doggett, on the other hand, was very much alive.

Sitting on the pier, Mulder wonders just how cold the 
sea would be. He remembers it takes four minutes for 
a person to drown. What would it be like, to pass out
in the gloomy water? 

It would be salty and gritty, he thinks. Unbearably 
dark. 

There's no way he can do it. Scully might be far away, 
but she is still just as warm, just as vibrant. He 
has already drained enough of these qualities from her. 

Mulder once said something to Scully that he shouldn't 
have. He once accused her of something, and now he can 
never take it back. 

His words lurk in his mind. They seem sordid, almost 
slimy. A line from a soap opera. A line from his own 
father. "Did you sleep with him?" 

After doing so much wrong in his life, Mulder wonders 
why he was born. But this seems ridiculously melodramatic, 
and he feels even worse. He has no wish to be the anti-hero 
or the Greek tragedy. He just wants to be safe and happy, 
with Scully. 

Mulder thinks - there must be a remedy somewhere. How can 
the world really be this hard to live through? Once it 
seemed so hopeful and beautiful, especially in summer, 
when the worst thing he could do was dribble popsicle onto 
a clean shirt.

Then, somehow, life degenerated to profiling serial 
killers by day and watching dirty movies by night. He 
lost his family, his friends and his reputation, and 
now he feels himself losing hope. What little hope 
remains, anyway. 

What he needs is a way to redeem himself. Only then could 
he be at peace in this peaceful setting. Only then would he 
truly believe, 'This is the way stories end'. At the 
moment, however, there is no end in sight.

He's been searching for his own redemption all along, 
above anything else. 

This is more selfishness, leading to more guilt. Mulder 
smiles bitterly, shaking his head. One day his burdened 
back will break.

For now though, it is night. A man on the run has little 
chance to think, so Mulder savours the moment. His pain 
comes and goes like the tide.  

-------------------------------------------------

This story was written as a Haven Challenge Fic (for
the October 2002 challenge). I hope I've filled out
the requirements (I was a bit...subtle. Yes, subtle,
that's a nice way of putting it <g>).

Okay, let's play "Find the Challenge Elements" 
(it's like "Where's Waldo?") -

Mulder's birthday
A popsicle
Pornography
A "bump" got visible
Someone or something lurking
The moon (or mooning)

If you can find these, tell me where they are by 
writing to apollostemple@yahoo.com. Or you could
just send feedback :)
