From: realbgirl Date: 18 Jan 2003 19:02:28 -0800 Source: atxc Title: Waiting to Die Author: Realb Distribution: Suit yourself. Classification: VA Keywords: Mulder POV, M/S Implied romance Rating: PG Spoilers: All things, and beginning of the so-called 8th season Disclaimer: 1013 owns them. Thanks: Li'l Gusty and Ann K. Notes: Carter pulled Mulder's neurological illness out of his Ass, but the muse was insistent. Summary: Mulder believes he's dying. Can he make peace with his destiny? XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Lately, as I slowly and secretly wait to die, the usually minor things in life have become the most important. It's said the devil is in the details and, interestingly enough, in the details I have found salvation, absolution, peace. In the grand scheme of things, my life has been unimportant to say the least. My dreams and aspirations incomplete. I am incomplete, a shadow of what I could've been. But all in all, there are moments of bliss, and those are the things I'll take with me when my time finally comes. Those are the things I'll leave behind. Now I can find pleasure in my daily activities as I never have before. I no longer go running to stay in shape, instead I go running to feel alive, to assure myself that my heart still beats, my lungs still need air. Drinking a strong cup of gourmet coffee brings me delight. The caffeine rushing through my dying neurons and revitalizing my brain, giving me that sharp edge that has been mostly natural in the past. Porn no longer holds my attention and music makes me want to dance and celebrate the little time I have left. Even Scully has caught me dancing, and I feel no inkling of shame. But of all of the things I've come to appreciate, the vision in front of me is the most beautiful one. One of the little, precious things that, although momentous in itself, bind me to earth with a vengeance. She sleeps like a child with her mouth slightly open, making wonderful little noises while she breathes. I capture all the little details of this moment, trying to brand it in the marrow of my being, hoping for the slight chance I can take this memory with me. I memorize the way her hands curl around the sheets, the way tendrils of dark hair fall around her face reminding me of a halo of fire. I know her hair is red, and not for the first time, I wish I were able to see and distinguish the different shades of it. Instead I can imagine with my mind's eye the power and furor of the fire that is Scully. And I'm supposed to be afraid of fire... We shouldn't be involved. Not when so much is at stake, and I'll make her suffer not only due to my death, but because of my duplicity, because of the last secret I've kept from her - and as usual, I just want to keep her sane. To keep her from suffering when there's nothing she can do. But in my defense, we only go through life but once, and I could no longer sublimate and avoid what is meant to be. God, when did Scully become the center of my life? When did I start to assess the value of my days based on a flash of a rare smile? Or on the occurrence of a raised eyebrow, or on the indefinable sound of a stifled giggle? As I count the days I have left to live, the nuances of Scully's life, her personality, are as important as ever. I know things about her she'd never suspect or admit, as I know she knows me. Underneath her power suits and no nonsense facade, Scully is all woman. She enjoys spending money on expensive lingerie. She gets a manicure every week, whenever one of my wild goose chases doesn't take us out town. She spends hours every morning blow- drying her hair, so that it's always impeccable and professional. I also know she allows herself to indulge in Ben and Jerry's ice cream every once in a while. She told me she would get fat with all the ice cream I've been bringing over lately. I guess I just can't get enough of the delight I see in her eyes while she eats straight out of the cartoon. That sparkling light that will never cease. Her essence will always be alive with me, or at least that's what I hope. In a way, I'm a lucky bastard. I get to see Scully without any of the walls she has built around herself to survive the boy's club that is the FBI. I see all of her, but not for very long anymore. I long for a future together. I long for what might have been. I long to grow old together, to give her the life outside the car she's wanted so much. It's amazing how one's priorities, wants, aspirations can shift and change when time is limited. I spent years running after the elusive truth, while truth was running right beside me. But you see, you can't hold something so perfect forever, and my time is limited. I can feel the end beckoning me. Taking me away little by little. But until then, I'll just hold Scully close to my heart, and wait to die.