Date: Thu, 1 Jul 1999 18:36:02 -0500 Subject: Story: The Truth We Seek From: Vger Date: 6/10/99 Subject: MSR/Post Episode Vignette Title: The Truth We Seek Author: Vger Reply to: Vger@colint.com Rated: No rating Spoilers: End of Season Six Summary: Scully has Mulder and new insight into their relationship Archive: Anywhere by request - I'd like to visit your web page if I know about it. Author's Note: I love Mulder and Scully and occasionally I can't resist exploring male/female relationships through them. The Truth We Seek We have searched for the truth often finding fragments that offered more questions than reassurances. And for this toil a great price has been exacted, leading us to wonder at times if it was too dear for the journey we had undertaken. I can't truthfully answer for all of the reasons he has not turned back, although I am convinced of the pain that it has caused him. I can only take responsibility for the choices I have made in the face of my own suffering. Some of my peers have thought it was a joke and would dismiss that the work has been difficult. "After all", they say, "How hard is it to chase little green men around all day?" My family has all but disowned me for the curse that it has brought to us, and would angrily argue that the work was far from humorous. And, of course, there are those who look on with eyes of envy, viewing my partner with lustful goals for their own gains. But no one really knows the truth. No one can have real empathy or insight into the invisible tapestry that has been woven between us. I suppose I should've left him a thousand times over - turned my back and walked away to a normal practice without a second glance. I didn't, and I'm not sure if it was loyalty or stubbornness that kept me rooted there. After all, I had my father's words to live down, and something to prove to Mulder about my competence. But unknown or denied, I'm not sure which, my reasons for staying slowly changed. I called it dedication. I called it scientific exploration. I called it my gift to the future of our race. I called it everything but what it is, and, sadly, I realize that I have been ashamed of the truth. The soft sound of his steady breathing fills the silence of the motel room, and I'm distracted and strangely comforted by its slow, rhythmic flow. He seems unaware of me sitting next to him on the bed just now with my journal propped on my knees, carefully penning these words in the amber lamplight. It was pure hell to see him in the hospital beyond my reach and at the mercy of so many deceitful hearts and hands. Now I can hardly watch him closely enough to be sure that he is still the man I have grown unable to live without. I pray that they will not find us before our work is done. Now that I have seen for myself the truth it is clear that it can longer be hidden from the world if we are to survive as a race. We are truly born from the stars, and if we cannot reconnect with our ancestral genesis we will fall prey to extinction. Mulder understood this. He reacted to the tracing as was intended for the keepers of the ancient ways. He had always known that it was his destiny to seek this truth out. He just didn't know how deeply this destiny was rooted in his very blood and bones. Even as I write this I feel an electrical tingle course through my body. I am affected as well. Perhaps it was the artifact that I came in contact with, or perhaps my connection to Mulder has evolved to an incredible degree. The scientist in me struggles to find the answers, but whatever the cause I now hear the unspoken, growing more capable each day to consciously seek out what I want to know. If I grow quiet enough even now I could hear his dreams - but I won't. My eyes travel back to him with confusing feelings, as I remember the first impressions I experienced from him. With great difficulty I had freed him from his psychiatric imprisonment, immediately overwhelmed by the relief and pain he was feeling. There was no question that he was on edge but our contact seemed to balance him, and, as we fled in the car, I began to realize that I could sense his thoughts. It sent me into emotional directions I could hardly contain at first, but somehow I managed to get us to this safety, understanding that he needed to rest. I suddenly realized that I needed it, too. Something has changed with us, though. As I found myself helping him undress for bed his tired mind spoke to me of longings we have skillfully avoided these years together. How very strange it is to know of his desire of me, be affected by it, and be unable to shield myself from revealing my unspoken responses. I sensed his tiredness as well as satisfaction as he burrowed into the pillows, but I realize now that we will never be the same again. It offers the chance for perfect empathy when you can feel what another feels, and yet there is no hiding or wearing masks to cover the vulnerability. He stirs and I wonder if he's heard me in his sleep. I flush at the thoughts I have entertained in these hours since our arrival that I haven't even brought myself to write down on these pages. I know that I am in love with him and that I am also loved by him, and strangely this new affirmation has left me alive with desire. It's hard to maintain a focus on the journey ahead of us as I finally acknowledge the truth between us. " Turn out the light, Scully," comes his sleep roughened voice. I hesitate in surprise before laying the journal on the nightstand and reaching for the light switch. My heart is pounding as now as I sense the heat unfurling in him, and I prepare myself to face the truth - our truth. "How are you feeling?" I ask softly as I pull the shirt over my head and stand to shake off my jeans. He watches me in the darkness studying my white briefs and tank T-shirt, which faintly glow in the moonlight that creeps around the edges of the drapes. I crawl under the covers with him carefully, fully prepared to be drawn into his arms, as his unspoken reassurances wash over me. I relax against him without resistance knowing I am safe with him. "Better now," he groans an answer softly into my ear. "Don't leave me, okay?" I don't answer this request. I know that he has already searched out the truth in me, knowing just how incapable I really am of leaving him. Perhaps if I didn't also see the truth in him it might be unbearable to be so naked to his probing mind. Instead of mustering more control I allow myself to let go, to free fall into the depth of him. He touches me with a gentle hand but it's our souls that are brushing against one another. I have never known such pure connection and love as it radiates between us like a newly formed entity. I can hear his heart speaking to me through the silence. I hear him. I become him. He becomes me. I finally understand this finely woven web of connectedness that glimmers between all life, patiently awaiting our awakening. What is unfolding between us now is far more than sexual pleasure. We have merged for a moment into one blissful being that knows no boundary between physical contact and the joining of souls. How ironic that the truth we have sought out these many years would be so far reaching. We thought to find explanations, which then whispered for justice. Unexplainably the search turned to the salvation of humankind, and yet, unexpectedly, has come down to the salvation of ourselves. We could scarcely have known that fate would lead us to this consummation of mind, body, and soul, and yet, having finally arrived, it would seem as though no less was ever expected. The truth lies on the horizon for all of us if we dare journey out from our carefully cocooned existences, and face the fact that the truth we really seek is the truth about ourselves.