From: Dryad Date: 7 Jun 2001 02:50:48 -0700 Subject: Remind Me To Smile by Dryad V, R, MS, SA, Mulder/other Source: atxc Disclaimer: Alas, alack, they are not mine. Yadda, yadda,yadda. Title: Remind Me To Smile Author: Dryad@neilclan.madasafish.com (address good 'til July '01) Rating: R, V, MS, SA, Mulder/other Spoilers: none Season: any after 5 Archive: Yes, a note as to where would be nice Summary: It ain't happy. In fact it's very dark. Note: Further commentary at end. Feedback: Be brutal. You know you want to. "Remember, I need others Remember, I need oxygen Remember, I need lovers Remember, I need to forget Remember, I am human Remember, I feel just like you Remember, I had reasons Remember, I had friends like you" Gary Numan/Remember, I Was Vapour/Telekon Sometime in the future Night time Scully's apartment "You have no new messages." He hadn't called. Special Agent Dana Scully leaned forward on the couch, elbows on knees, head in her hands. He hadn't called, and her glass heart was going to shatter from the pain of it. No, that wasn't true, her heart had shattered long ago, and she'd been slowly bleeding to death ever since. A thousand different paper cuts. She straightened, brushed her hair out of her eyes, toed off her pumps. God, she was tired. Exhausted, really, and they hadn't even traveled recently. Hadn't gone haring off into the boonies, tripping over logs and falling into swamps, sliding on slick rocks and chasing monsters. Her mental state, ah, now that was a different matter entirely. Clothes hung on her. Food held no interest, and when she did manage to choke down half a sandwich or some yogurt, it made her stomach hurt. She'd become adept at using foundation and powder to hide the shadows under her eyes. Blush put artificial warmth into the hollows of her cheeks, and white eyeliner and mascara made her sunken eyes look bigger than they were. Press-on's and colored varnish hid weak and brittle nails. There wasn't much she could do about her hair, which had started falling out as the months had passed. She knew she looked bad, yet she couldn't summon up the energy to care. Unbidden, tears sprang to her eyes. He hadn't called. Again. Someone knocked on the door. She sat and listened to it, wished whoever it was would just go away. The knocking stopped, started again after a moment, continuing insistently, then stopping once again. Scully heard the scrape of a key in the lock and sighed heavily. Since she had changed the lock, only one other person had a key. Behind her the door opened, allowing light from the hallway to spill into the dark room. "Hi mom," She wearily called. " "It's me." She twisted around violently at the sound of his voice. "What are you doing here? How did you get a key?" "I have my ways," Mulder closed the door and approached the couch, sat beside her. "Why are all the lights off?" "Because I haven't turned them on." "Are you okay? Jacqui said you weren't looking too good when she saw you in the cafeteria." Shouldn't he already know that? Didn't they work together on a daily basis? How could Jacqui notice, and not him? He continued on. "I know I haven't been as present as I could be - " Understatement, that. "I've just been...involved." And her name was Jacqui, who was a tall, intelligent, and attractive brunette. Scully glanced up at him, her night vision having returned, yet unable to see him for the tears. Her voice was far too tight as she asked, "What do you want me to say?" That she never thought he'd leave her? That she needed him as plants needed sun, rain, soil? That her life was meaningless without his involvement in it? He made no reply. Perhaps he didn't know what to say. God, but she hurt. She tasted coppery bile on her tongue, felt the burn of stomach acid in her esophagus and swallowed hard. Vomiting was not an option. Nor were any of the things she wanted to scream at him - Can't you see how much I hurt? Can't you comfort me, just a little? Don't you know how grateful I would be for that, for a single touch of your hand on my back? "I'm fine," She finally said, when the silence had gone on a little too long. "Go home. Jacqui'll be waiting." When he had left, without saying a another word, Scully turned on the nearest lamp and walked around the apartment, making a note of her favorite things. She didn't have much to show for her experience on the earth, did she? Well, apart from scars? She should have painted the walls a different color, something really wild like violet or sunshine, lime or coral. Should have dated more often. Made other friends. After a few minutes of aimless wandering, she went into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of the big black garbage bags that she'd bought at the corner store a few weeks back. In her bedroom she ripped them in half, spread them out over the bed, laid down on top of them, in the darkness. He hadn't called. Again. He'd become a whole person when she wasn't looking. She hadn't noticed. And Jacqui was a good person, kind, and generous, loving Mulder, although not half as much as Scully did. Mulder had made his choice, and now she would make hers. He would be alright. Scully put the muzzle of her gun against the roof of her mouth. Pulled the trigger. Note: Yeah. While I don't think Scully would ever get to the point where Mulder was the end-all and be-all of her life, and I certainly don't think she would ever commit suicide, I have no doubt that she does get depressed, and depression does funny things to your mind. I should know, I've been a depressive for over half my life. Anyway, Mulder seems like the more likely suicidal candidate, yet he would have Scully's support in the same situation. Then I wondered what would happen if their suicidal roles were reversed, and he wasn't there for her. Believe me, this was as painful to write as it is to read. I'd contemplated writing a longer story, but quite frankly, I just can't handle it. I like the characters too much, and it would be too agonizing, dredging up emotions and patterns of thought that I'm perfectly happy not to have to deal with at the moment. If you, dear reader, are depressed, hie thee to the alt.support.depression newsgroup and talk it out. You'll find you're not alone. Dryad 6/07/01