From: eponine119 Date: Sun, 19 Oct 1997 13:16:15 -0700 Subject: NEW: Searching In Vain 1/1 Disclaimer: The X Files, its characters and plotlines belong to Chris Carter, 1013 and Fox. Not me. Author's notes: This is an odd, twisted story. I based it on my mom's theory about the X Files and its ending. While this is definitely *NOT* what I would want to see, it's so wonderfully dark I couldn't resist. This is also my 100th story to post to this group, and I've been here just over two years! Thanks for the great stories, everyone, and the comments and friendships and everything. __________________ Searching in Vain by eponine119 eponine119@att.net __________________ "They've found her." He looked up, already cringing at the words. He waited. "She's dead." His eyes closed slowly. "Well, at least this way you know." It was an offer of hope to try to make him feel better. "It won't be another lifetime of waiting and wondering. And searching in vain." "Please." "It's the not knowing that's the worst. You know that." "Just go." And then he was alone. He didn't feel any better. * Fingers moving through disturbed earth over bone. He couldn't look and yet he had to. The right size. The right injuries. Including that final, horrible one. "It looks like her skull's been fractured, Mulder." Scully at his side, speaking grimly. Her fingers dug deeper and he wanted to grab her and stop her, but he couldn't move. "Yeah," Scully sat back on her heels, agreeing with herself. She looked up at him. "Her nightgown's soaked with blood." His shoulders slumped and the first of the tears dripped off the end of his nose, plunking quietly into the earth. Scully got to her feet and put her hands on her hips, surveying the land beneath the still-dim sky. "I'm surprised they didn't find her before this. So close to your father's property." She sighed. "But I suppose if the storm hadn't pulled up the tree, she never would have been found." Mulder sobbed. She looked at him. "I'm so sorry," she said in a soft voice, placing her hand on his shoulder. "It's my fault," he whispered, his eyes oddly clear now. "No. No," Scully told him fiercely. "We are going to find the men who did this, Mulder. They will be brought to justice." "Can't we just...let her rest?" He was crying again. Scully put her arm around him and walked him back to the car. She couldn't help taking a final look behind. Someone had killed a little girl and put her in that ground. Someone had ruined a young boy's life with guilt and longing and fear. She'd die before she let that person get away with it. * "It's my fault." The nightmares were back. In the dreams it was true. There wasn't a bright light. There hadn't been aliens or men. Just him. He'd killed her. The dreams were so real. * She was surprised to see him, yet there he was, sitting at his desk just like it was any other day. "You shouldn't be here," she told him before she even set her briefcase down. He looked at her then and his eyes were haunted. She wanted to reach out to him but she couldn't. A lifetime of hopes and dreams had been shattered. His work and everything he valued - gone in an instant. "I need to work," he said before he looked away. At least he still needed something. * She was so small and he was so big. She wouldn't listen to him. And it occurred to him, a fleeting dangerous thought, that he could _make_ her listen. He grabbed her and shook her. She shut up, finally, and her huge terrified eyes met his. He had her attention. But it didn't stop there. * "Have you spoken to your mother about this?" she asked, interpreting his need to work as a need to find the people who had killed his sister. "Of course." He would have avoided it if he could. But she'd been on the scene before he was. She'd seen. And she knew. The look she gave him reminded him of his guilt. He hadn't been good enough. He hadn't stopped this. He'd let her down. And in the end, he hadn't even been the one to find her. Nature had done that for him. "I mean...about the people who might have put her there," Scully suggested gently. "I don't want to know." His eyes had gone blank again as though he were back there with her now. "Of course you do," she told him. She knew how he felt. He didn't think she did; his grief was blinding him, but she knew. "Just let it go!" he shouted at her. She jumped and stared at him. "Mulder -" "Leave it alone! Let her rest!" He slammed out of the office. Scully just sat there. He needed time. * He was panicked and rational at the same time. It was strange how clear his thoughts had become after that black fit of rage. His heart was pounding but he could plan. It was so easy. The shovel in his hands moved the earth out of the way. She was tiny and it was shockingly easy for him to carry her outside. Bones so delicate they might shatter beneath his fingers without his even turning his mind to it. The earth covered her without a struggle. No one would notice the disturbance beneath the weeping willow that flowed down to the ground. Besides, there had recently been a storm. And it had done untold damage... * She went alone. Because when she admitted it to herself, she was the one who had to know. She hadn't planned what she was going to say, but his mother didn't seem surprised to see her. "He didn't come with you?" she asked. "No." Eyes downcast. Ashamed of him. "It's always been so hard for Fox," she said. "I'm trying to find out who might have done this," Scully couldn't avoid the words. "I don't suppose you..." She shook her head. "If I knew, I would have done something long ago." Scully nodded, trying to find the words to apologize. His mother wasn't visibly upset. A little angry, perhaps. But she had already had the time to mourn. It made Scully wonder why Mulder had reacted so strongly, after so much time. But she knew. It was guilt and despair at having done nothing. She knew the feelings. Though she calmly buried them as his mother had. "My husband knew. I have no doubt he knew what happened on that night. He knew what Fox could not allow himself to remember." His mother looked at her then. "Fox has his things. I think it's time we all found out." "It's past the time for the truth to come to light. Long past," Scully vowed. "Thank you." Scully looked at her, questioning: what for? "For helping my son." * It had been such a silly squabble. But the anger...the fury..had welled up. It had truly been uncontrollable. Still, he should have tried harder. He was supposed to protect her. But the years-old resentment was a powerful thing. She was charming and more clever than he. She did things properly. Everyone loved her. She was accepted. She was always right. This one time he had to win the argument. * He wasn't home, but she had a key. He wouldn't mind, she told herself as she went into the small apartment. There was only one closet, in the hall, and she found the box in there behind the trenchcoats and basketball shoes. She pulled it out and sat on the floor to look through it. If there were answers in here, Mulder would have already found them. She set aside the pictures without looking at them and found his father's log. Not even really a journal - it recorded sunrise and sunset and temperature and precipitation. One night, it recorded his daughter's disappearance. There was a page missing. The inside of the book was scorched as though it had been burned out with a lighter. "The tree..." it said at the bottom of one page. He knew! Had he killed his own daughter and Mulder saw? It was so horrible, he'd blocked the memory? But why would a murderer record it at all? Why not cover his trail more completely? The next page after the break. "...will never suspect. I will protect him at any cost from the harm and the horror of what has happened. He already says he remembers nothing. It is safer for him that way." His father had her killed. The government men he worked with had done it and Fox had seen, she thought. But then she read it again. The door opened behind her. * So much blood. It soaked them both. Where had it all come from? Already he was beginning to forget. Head wounds bled a lot - she'd said it before. Or - someone had said it before. He didn't know who or when. He was starting to be scared. He was starting to feel panic. Anxiety. Where was he? He was covered in blood. Blood was on his hands. How had it gotten there? He didn't know where he was or how he'd gotten there. He was so scared. He was crying because he'd lost something but he didn't know what. How could he look if he didn't even know what he'd lost or where it had gone? * "Mulder." She got to her feet. "What are you doing here?" He slammed the door, glaring at her angrily. "Looking for answers." "What answers?" He was getting closer but she stood her ground. "What happened to Samantha?" * She wanted to watch some stupid movie. A girly movie. With kissing and love and stuff. Mom and Dad wouldn't let her watch if they were home. She acted like she would win just because she was a girl and she was cute. But it was time for his favorite show. * "What happened to your sister, Mulder?" "She's dead." * He was so tired of this. She was always right. She always won. Mom and Dad always took her side. They'd let her win if they were here. They couldn't help it. Well, they weren't here. He was. * "How did she die? You know, Mulder." "I don't know." "You were there. You're the only one who knows." "I -" * He knew it was stupid. He shouldn't be so angry. She was just a kid, she didn't know any better. He shook her. She stopped talking and looked up at him, scared. But he didn't stop there. * "I killed her." Her voice shook. "Why, Mulder? How?" * He could make her listen to him. He knew where Dad's gun was. He'd show her. He'd scare her. Then she'd listen to him like she was supposed to. She watched him. Scared. He felt bad that he was scaring her, but he couldn't help it now. He couldn't stop himself. She must have seen the box wobble - Dad kept the gun in a locked box up on the shelf, but Dad didn't realize how tall his son was now. Fox could reach it. He didn't care that he didn't have the key. "Fox!" Her cry startled him into rationality. His thoughts cleared. But it was too late. The box fell. * "It was an accident." "You need help, Mulder," Scully said, suddenly scared. This was Mulder and she trusted him, but he had an odd look on his face. He'd spent his life searching for a sister he already knew was dead. He'd blocked it out until only the guilt remained. "I was mad at her." "It's going to be okay." Her head was telling her to run, but she had to help him. He was her friend and none of this was his fault. "I'm going to call someone who will help you feel better about this," she told him, edging toward the phone. "No." She looked at him. His gun was drawn. He'd held it on her before, but not like this. Not distraught and lost in decades-old buried memories. "I told you to leave it alone, Scully. But you didn't listen. Like she didn't listen. I didn't want to remember, but you made me. I didn't mean to kill her." "Mulder, listen to me, you're sick but we'll get you he-" She was talking fast, too fast. "No, _you_ listen to _ME_!" "Mulder -" "No!" Their voices mixed. But it was too late. * So much blood. She was so light. It was dark outside. Except for the tears, it was no trouble at all to bury her. The body barely made a bump beneath the tree. * "No, Mrs. Scully, I don't know where she is." Why was he crying? He missed her. Why had she left him? "Don't cry, Fox." "I can't help it. This is - it's all my fault." "No, it's not. Dana's got a good head on her shoulders. She wouldn't get into anything she couldn't handle." He just cried. He didn't know where she'd gone. But he had the terrible feeling she wouldn't be back. ***the end*** now if I've done my job, you'll want to read it again and see if it seems any different this time. comments? email me: eponine119@att.net