From: William and MarySue Bowen Date: Wed, 01 Mar 2000 13:34:36 -0330 Subject: story submission- "princess" MSR Source: direct "Princess" By Birdie- starshine314@yahoo.com Classification: MRS (like i'd write anything else) Angst Disclamer: Scully and Mulder (sadly) are not mine. They are the property of Chris Carter, Fox, and 1013. BUT, Brie is completely mine, so if Chris trys to steal HIM, i'll be ready with a big fat law suit! hehehe... Summary: i think it's a good story, so read for yourself and find out! **** It was so sad. Even after all he had seen her go through, all the suffering and the pain, it still tore at something inside when he had to watch her like this. He was gazing upon this morose scene, invisible to his charge. The petite woman was lying on th e couch, curled up against herself. Her chin length auburn hair falling in a messy tousled fan over her tear-streaked face, her large cerulean eyes reddened with the liquid anguish. She was shivering from an unearthly cold, and had wrapped herself in a worn leather jacket. With that thought, her angel, watching undetected from her side, suddenly realized she was sobbing softly into t he soft leather. Almost inaudible, they were, but the ethereal sounds of grief reached his trained ears. Gently, he reached out a translucent arm and rested a hand on her cheek. "Don't cry anymore, not today. Sleep now." And she did. Reluctantly, the woman fell into a dreamless sleep. Murmuring the familiar name that once was only a source of joy, and now c aused her so much pain. "Mulder..." **** He had been with Dana since her first breath. Her first struggling breath, it had come difficult to her, as would so many things in the years to follow. But he had stood by her, his princess; the one he was to watch over until the time came for her sweet release. When she was still a little girl, and could see him, she called him Brie. Of course, her parents assumed he was an imaginary friend, and now that she was older she thought the same. Still, he had always thought of himself by that name. And, somet imes while she was sleeping, she would call out to him "Brie...Brie..." When she was younger he had stood by her through skinned knees, and lost friends, moving from base to base. And now that she was grown he was watching her struggle with the happiness that was (for reasons unknown to him) kept ever elusive. The abduction, her cancer, Emily, Antarctica. He had watched tears escape those beautiful blue eyes so many times, and every single time he fought the urge to look heavenward and ask "why?" This time was no different. If anything, he questioned the everlasting even more for what had befallen her now. She had been so happy. After never being the popular one, or the pretty one s he met someone who lit her up like a candle burning from the inside. She called him Mulder, though his sources told him that his first name was Fox. Brie really liked the guy, anyone who could make her happy like that. He had even come to think they were soul mates, even though he had never believed in that sort of thing before. Although they took quite a long time in admitting it (that almost drove B rie to the point of insanity) they both knew they loved each other. They saved each other- from loneliness, from sadness, from pain, from everything. Then this Mulder guy had "seen the light," and to be added to the list that said they were partners and best friends, they were to be married. It seemed like they were two pieces of a larger puzzle that somehow found each other, and fit together just righ t. And then he died. Just like that, no warnings or precognitions. Killed in the line of duty. He had gone after a lead alone in the dead of night without backup. And now he was gone, and Brie sometimes thought that now Dana was gone too. When they had told her he was standing there, watching her. It's hard to describe... the light went out. The part that he had brought out in her turned around and retreated back into the depths, taking anything remaining of her with. She just stood there, all pale. The fluorescent light from her hallway illuminating the tears that had begun to flow down her cheeks. "Mulder?...muldermuldermulder..." She just kept saying his name over and over. Brie hadn't seen her smile since. She call ed out the name again in her sleep. On good days she would get up and go through the motions, wandering through her life like a stranger. He didn't think he would have done any different. But on the bad days...Today was a bad day. She'd st ay home, sleep until noon, curl up in a safe place with that old leather jacket that still smelled of him faintly, and cry until she fell asleep again. Hope that the dreams didn't come. Brie knew about the dreams, he could see them if he wanted to. He did once, and then he didn't want to anymore. It was a gray world, a horrible world. She would see her lost love, and run to him, only to have him disappear in her arms, leaving her screami ng at nothing. "Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!" a piercing shriek filled the air and knocked Brie out of his reverie. It took him a few moments to realize that she had awakened from her sleep and was screaming, waking this time, at nothing. She stopped howling and had begun to gaze fixedly at Brie. No, no she was staring at something just behind him, on a little end table by her couch. As if in a trance, she pushed a strand of copper back behind her ear and stood up. Dana walked evenly over to the picture and picked it up. It was a black and white picture of the two of them on a park swing, he had her in his lap and the were looking at each other with so much love...it was a beautiful picture. Dana was eyeing the photo like it was the holy grail. "Oh, Mulder." With those words she clutched the picture even harder in her small hands and charged into the bathroom. Then Brie was by her side, standing in front of the bathroom mirror. She was just staring, so blankly, at her reflection. The way she was staring he di dn't think she could see it anymore than she could see his. Slowly, so slowly, she reached out a thin shaking arm and opened the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. She reached inside a found the treasure she was looking for, a brand new bottle of aspirin. "For that hard to kill pain" the label said. "Please don't... please don't..." he said, knowing full well there was only one who could hear him, and it wasn't her. She began to sing. The words flowed eerily, effortlessly from her mouth. He wondered briefly if she was even aware that she was singing them. Come Josephine in my flying machine, In the air she goes There she goes... Languidly, or maybe the world had slowed down, she opened the cap. Only humming now, a sad little verse to no one in particular, for she didn't know anyone was listening. She let the framed picture slip out of her hands and crash to the floor. The glass shattered, making tinkling noises as the fragments scattered on her bathroom tile. She didn't notice. One by one the little red and white oblong pills fell into her palm, and one by one she put them in her mouth and swallowed them down. Swallowed them all. He just gazed after her now, watching her stumble her way back to the couch. Walking over the broken glass from the picture, back to the beloved jacket. Humming all the while. He watched in horror as she lay down and closed her eyes. He doesn't know how long he watched her. He noticed detachedly that the humming had stopped, and he was being pulled away. He spent his last moment on earth wiping away a tear he hadn't realized had fallen down his face. Come. Say, let us fly girl. Away to the sky girl. Up, Up a little bit higher. Oh my, the moon is on fire...