Disclaimer: The X-Files and characters contained therein are the property of Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Production, and Fox Broadcasting; the characters of Mulder and Scully are brought to life by David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, respectively. No copyright infringement or otherwise acts of offense intended. There is no money being made off of this, by anyone, s'far as I know of. Rating: R for language. Warnings: Main character death. Numerous profanities. Lotsa lotsa angst. No romance though. Constructive criticism, comments, and questions are always more than welcome! (My e-mail's at the bottom of each installment.) +-------------------+ When The Sky Falls by Persephone Part 1 of 5 "Afterwards" +-------------------+ "The more I think on you, the more I think long If I had you now as I had once before..." -- Loreena McKennit She had, for the most part, been spared pain in her death. She had, supposedly, died quite quickly and without thought to the matter. Or so they told him. He didn't allow himself the comfort of believing their words. On the night of the accident, and for many weeks to follow, he lay sleepless, unable to rid his mind of the painful speculations festering therein. What had it been like, he asked himself relentlessly, those last few seconds, caught like a deer in the headlights? Blinded and then paralyzed, brief knowledge of what had happened and, perhaps, of her forthcoming death? He had cried himself to sleep until there were no more tears left to shed. Work came again the next week and he returned as though completely recovered. Work was money, people were mortal, and life went on. In the cold privacy of his basement office, he placed his face in his hands and wished it were that easy. Wished that this city wasn't so huge and lonely. That he could live happily without the life and the woman he had once took for granted would always be there. "Agent Mulder?" Mulder looked up, wiping a hand across his moistened face. The young female looked flustered. "Sorry sir, your door was...was unlocked." He waved away her concern. "What do you want?" His voice was low and tired, but kind. "I...AD Skinner wishes to see you. He couldn't contact you on your telephone." Mulder nodded sheepishly to the unplugged phone cord, then looked up at her again. "Would you tell him I'll be there in ten minutes or so?" "Of course." The woman smiled briefly and turned to leave. For a moment as he gazed upon her back, he could almost pretend she was Scully. Then she was gone and with her, the illusion of a ghost. * * * Comments? mara@pacificrim.net Disclaimer: The X-Files and characters contained therein are the property of Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Production, and Fox Broadcasting; the characters of Mulder and Scully are brought to life by David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, respectively. No copyright infringement or otherwise acts of offense intended. There is no money being made off of this, by anyone, s'far as I know of. Rating: R for language. Warnings: Main character death. Numerous profanities. Lotsa lotsa angst. No romance though. Constructive criticism, comments, and questions are always more than welcome! (My e-mail's at the bottom of each installment.) +--------------------+ When The Sky Falls by Persephone Part 2 of 5 "Crossing" +--------------------+ "The night in silence under many a star, The ocean shore and the husky whispering wave whose voice I know, And the soul turning to thee O vast and well-veiled death." -- Walt Whitman The nighttime sky was the clearest and darkest he had seen this year. There was nothing in the air to suggest tragedy, to forewarn of pain and sorrow. Mulder grimaced as his coffee spilt over his fingers. He raised them to his lips to lick the hot liquid away. Inside the AM/PM, Scully stepped out of the tiny bathroom and brought the key to the counter. She grabbed a stale-looking muffin and tossed a dollar bill next to the key. As the cashier began to punch the buttons on the register, she was already nearing the door. "'Scuse me, ma'am? Your change?" With one foot out the door, Scully turned on her heel. "Keep it." When he protested: "Please." The teenager shrugged and picked up his magazine. The bells above the door jingled as it slid shut. The empty store creaked and sputtered; the refrigeration cabinets turned on their second shift. Cars rushed by on the neighboring Interstate. Scully glanced to her side as the wind began to blow. Beyond a cement wall to her left lay the main highway. Fields and pastures stretched out forever in all other directions, once you looked past this initial cluster of new buildings. The sky towards the Interstate glowed with the harsh luminiscence of artificial lights. Her hair blew wildly in her face despite attempts to hold it back. She could barely see Mulder's silouhette in their car across the street. It was the only parked car, for all she could tell, in this entire vicinity of parking lots, fast food and cheap gas stations. The neon Mister Donut sign reflected off the Jeep's rear windows. Scully looked both ways, cursing the sharp turn to her right for any psychotic drivers it may be hiding from her. She didn't worry too much, however, as she hadn't seen many vehicles on this stretch of road the entire week they had been in town. Just a logging road, the sheriff had assured them, and it's the end of the season. Mulder looked up from his bag of doughnuts to see his partner stepping onto the seemingly deserted road. His first thought was that he should have driven over to the AM/PM to pick her up. His second thought came several moments later, as Scully was more than halfway across the road, approaching the parking lot entrance. She was so close he could see the blond highlights in her red hair. He could also see something she couldn't. He saw the logging truck. As it barreled drunkenly down the road, he started, dropping his doughnuts and praying fervently the driver would have enough sense to slow down at the turn. It gained speed. The moment seemed as though it were locked in slow motion. Mulder couldn't open the door fast enough, his fingers fumbling for the knob in the neon shadows. He threw the door open. "*SCULLLYYYYYYYY!*" His voice, to him, sounded weak, lost in the wind. Lost in the rumble of the truck, which echoed larger than life inside his mind. But Scully heard. And she saw the truck. She had seen it as soon as it sped around the bend. All the common sense she had ever learned, irretrievably vanished within the course of several seconds. Her vision was lost in the magnificent glare of the headlights, her coordination a moment later. She ran. Her mind told her to get the hell out of the road, her body didn't know which way to go. She stumbled. She fell to her knees. In the parking lot of the Mister Donut, Mulder began to scream. Timothy Chartier, the driver of the logging truck, license plate 334-COQ-76, state of Michigan, thought he saw someone in his headlights. The truck was going too fast to slow down. Starting to press the brakes, he felt a bump under the wheels. And then he saw a man run yelling toward the road. He had one thought before the night surrendered to chaos. He thought about how much he would miss his wife in jail. The teenage AM/PM cashier heard Mulder's curses and glanced out the window. At first it looked like a truck had run out of gas in the road. And then he saw an arm. A leg. A man kneeling beside the body. And as the truck backed up even further, he saw the blood. With shaking hands, he dialed 911. * * * Comments? mara@pacificrim.net Disclaimer: The X-Files and characters contained therein are the property of Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Production, and Fox Broadcasting; the characters of Mulder and Scully are brought to life by David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, respectively. No copyright infringement or otherwise acts of offense intended. There is no money being made off of this, by anyone, s'far as I know of. Rating: R for language. Warnings: Main character death. Numerous profanities. Lotsa lotsa angst. No romance though. Constructive criticism, comments, and questions are always more than welcome! (My e-mail's at the bottom of each installment.) +--------------------+ When The Sky Falls by Persephone Part 3 of 5 "Gone" +--------------------+ "It was then I felt the crossroads of time." -- Loreena McKennit Mulder knelt by his partner's fallen form. He couldn't stop shaking. There was blood everywhere. Too much blood. Her body was literally shattered. Arms and legs twisted grotesquely; bones protruded from her flesh at the elbow and neck. He was repulsed; yet he couldn't stop touching her face. Futilely, he supposed later, begging her to awake. The worst part was her eyes. They were open. *Open and dead,* he thought with a sob, the first of many, rising in his throat. They were glassy and staring; accusingly empty. "Scully!" He whispered. Again and again, shivering with grief, he mouthed her name. Her corpse lay responseless on the cold pavement. This had once been Dana Scully; it was no longer. Mulder felt a shadow upon him. He spun around to face Timothy Chartier, the trucker who now stood, awkwardly, a few yards from Mulder. "Ith she okay?" The man's slurred voice enraged Mulder. His anger erupted. "She's *DEAD*!!!!" he shouted, drawing his gun. "You son-of-a-bitch, drunk *ratfucker*; she's dead, she's beyond dead, she's fucking in PIECES!!" He smashed the truck window with the gun's barrel. "In pieces, you here me???" He was crying now, and he held a trembling finger on the trigger. Chartier backed away. "I'm going to kill you, you ratfucking bastard." Mulder glanced at the boy standing horrified in the AM/PM doorway. "But first I'm gonna smash your motherfucking skull in like you did to *her* and ask *you* how it feels. Sound good? And if you're lucky I'll shoot you then." Chartier continued backing away. They both heard the police sirens wailing around the corner. The cars parked and four officers stepped out. "Drop your weapons!" The call was more familiar to Mulder than his own apartment. "I'm gonna kill him!" Mulder shouted back. "I'm a federal agent. He killed my partner!" "No one's going to kill anyone," came the calm female voice. "Too late!" Mulder yelled, laughing hysterically. She ignored his comment. "Now drop your weapon, please, so we can take this man into custody." He didn't. "Drop your weapon, please, or we're going to have to use a lot more force." Sobbing, Mulder slowly lowered his gun. "Thank you." A male officer gently took his gun away and helped him into a waiting car. He collapsed into the seat, weak from fury and tears. Outside the car, he heard the trucker being read his rights. He pressed his face against the window and watched as Scully's broken body was lifted onto the stretcher and covered with a white sheet. The paramedics carried her (*Her*? Or it?* His face twisted in agony once more.) into an ambulance and shut the door. "Gone." he murmured, blinking away the wetness. *She's gone.* "What was that?" The cop asked distractedly. "Nothing." Mulder started to cry again, hard, and disconsolately. As he gazed out of the window past the neon signs, the police officer stared straight ahead. He hadn't ever seen a man cry before. * * * Comments? mara@pacificrim.net Disclaimer: The X-Files and characters contained therein are the property of Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Production, and Fox Broadcasting; the characters of Mulder and Scully are brought to life by David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, respectively. No copyright infringement or otherwise acts of offense intended. There is no money being made off of this, by anyone, s'far as I know of. Rating: R for language. Warnings: Main character death. Numerous profanities. Lotsa lotsa angst. No romance though. Constructive criticism, comments, and questions are always more than welcome! (My e-mail's at the bottom of each installment.) +--------------------+ When The Sky Falls by Persephone Part 4 of 5 "Reverie" +--------------------+ "If you understand or if you don't If you believe or if you doubt There's a universal justice And the eyes of truth Are always watching you." -- Curly M.C. Mulder was hiding. He knew Skinner wanted to see him. He knew Margaret wanted to talk with him about her daughter. But it was all too much. Too much hurt, too much to do so soon. So he hid in his apartment, with the door locked and the phone off the hook. It had been two days since the accident. He knew this wouldn't last; he couldn't shut himself up like a recluse forever. But he couldn't talk to anyone, either. Not now, at least. He didn't think he could stand another person's company without breaking down or blowing up. Neither of which were behaviors he was particularly proud of. He was tortured by one persistent thought, a thought that he imagined would slowly beat him to death over the course of his lifetime if he wasn't driven to do it himself. *You could have saved her.* He knew it was true. *You could have shouted to her sooner. She might've made it.* *So what do I do now? Hate myself? Kill myself? I don't have the energy to hate, and I'm too much a coward for suicide. So who exactly is that knowledge saving?* Mulder sat the edge of his couch, staring at his reflection in the coffee table. Eyes too tired to cry, eyes that hadn't slept for days. *"You're in a very dark place. Darker than my sister."* The late Melissa Scully's words sounded as clear as if she had been in the room with him. Ghosts. He had ghosts in his head. "Yeah, and where are you now, Melissa?" he asked dryly. "Tell me, is it dark?" He picked up a magazine from the table and leafed through it, the pictures and words a nonsensical blur. "Is it dark, Melissa? Or is there a beautiful-fucking-bright light?" He paused, no longer feeling the need for sarcasm. He whispered, "Is your sister that light?" Somewhere on the street below, a dog barked. The windows he could see beyond his darkened oasis were lit up with a warm, cheerful yellow. They stirred painful memories of a loving friendship; of more innocent times, innocence long gone. Innocence that he could no longer hope to possess after having, not one, but *four* loved ones stolen away in front of his eyes. The stars were invisible, competing with the light of D.C.'s downtown streets. Beyond the apartment walls a city breathed. "Are you happy, Melissa, wherever you are?" he murmured softly, indeed wondering. "Or rather, is Dana?" The room was silent. His thoughts held him prisoner in their tight, bruising embrace. * * * Comments? mara@pacificrim.net Disclaimer: The X-Files and characters contained therein are the property of Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Production, and Fox Broadcasting; the characters of Mulder and Scully are brought to life by David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, respectively. No copyright infringement or otherwise acts of offense intended. There is no money being made off of this, by anyone, s'far as I know of. Rating: R for language. Warnings: Main character death. Numerous profanities. Lotsa lotsa angst. No romance though. Constructive criticism, comments, and questions are always more than welcome! (My e-mail's at the bottom of each installment.) +-------------------+ When The Sky Falls by Persephone Part 5 of 5 "Confessions" +-------------------+ "That's not the beginning of the end That's the return to yourself The return to innocence." -- Curly M.C. He wore his best suit to the church. Black, the mourner's color, so many black suits he owned; but did he ever think he would be wearing one to *this* funeral? Did he ever think he would be *attending* this funeral? *Memorial,* Mulder corrected himself. Scully wanted to be cremated, not buried. Margaret Scully smiled warmly at him from across the aisle. He returned it, glancing briefly at the two teary-eyed men, Scully's brothers, standing beside her. "Dana Katherine Scully was a beloved daughter, sister, friend, and colleague. All who knew her felt graced by this woman's kindness, sincerity, beauty and intelligence." The priest paused and looked out across the pews. "We will all miss Dana, the person. When I say that her spirit of love, honesty, and devotion will remain in our hearts, I say it with the understanding that it is not the same as having her by our sides. "Yet Dana, in her unselfish nature, would have wanted us to go on with our lives. Grieve, for it is natural; cry if you must, for it too is natural. But please, don't bring harm to yourselves. Please, don't let yourselves die in spirit as Dana has in body. She is in a better place, free of suffering and pain. We musn't feel as though we have to bear the burdens of suffering for her." Mulder rubbed a hand over his face. It came away dry. "Dana was taken from us in youth and good health, without any apparent reason. The injustice of this may bring anger, tears -- loss of faith. Why, we ask ourselves, why the young and full of life? "But the Lord is mysterious in His ways. Find consolation in the knowledge that He will always protect her. "We all loved Dana and are saddened to see her leave us so unexpectedly. May her soul find peace in Heaven." The priest looked about and stepped down from the altar. Margaret beckoned to Mulder to come join her. He stepped carefully around unfamiliar weeping faces and made his way to the Scully family's pew. "Fox. I'm so glad you could make it." She held his right hand tightly in both of hers. Numbly, he let her embrace him. "Fox," she whispered, "they told me what you did. That you -- you almost killed the man -- the drunk driver -- the man who --" Her voice cracked. He nodded, unsure of her intent. "They stopped me. I still feel like...like four years in jail isn't enough..but..." "Just that you cared...so much...about my daughter -- I feel as if you're part of our family, Fox. I wanted to thank you for caring; for loving her. I know she felt the same way about you. I know that she...she trusted you with her life." *"She trusted you with her life." And you didn't try quite as hard as you could have, did you?* "Mrs. Scully," Mulder began. *How are you going to tell her? *Why* are you going to tell her?* "Mrs. Scully," he tried again. She looked at him curiously. He started to cry. "Oh, Fox." She put an arm around him. "Come on. Let's talk outside." He pulled away. "No...no...you don't understand." "What don't I understand?" Ohhhh, God, if you're really up there, help me out. "Scully was, I mean, your daughter was...she was all I had. I don't...I -- there's no one else." "Fox, love, I understand perfectly." She held him while his shudders subsided. "No, no, that's not it. I -- I -- I could've saved her. I didn't warn her quick enough, it was, I was -- I saw the truck -- I didn't yell right away --" His words were broken up by sobs. "Mrs. Scully -- I wasn't quick enough, I could've warned her -- it's just -- just, I thought the truck would've slowed down -- I had no idea..." He stared into her eyes. She stared back incredulously, keeping a hand on his shoulder. "Oh my God, Fox. You can't tell me you were *blaming* yourself for Dana's death!" She shook her head, looking down at the ground. When she looked up again, there were tears standing in her eyes. She grabbed his wrists. "It was a horrible, sad thing that happened. Dana was an incredible girl. But Fox, it was a drunk driver behind the wheel of that truck. Not you." She paused. "Not you. "You blame yourself because you can't accept that something this freak could happen without one of you being involved in the cause. You can't accept that things like this happen -- that it's not your fault she isn't with us today. I don't know why you do this; but I know you blamed yourself when Dana was abducted. And you cite yourself not trying hard enough as the reason your sister is still missing after all these years. He began to protest. She silenced him gently. "Sometimes things happen. Things that we have absolutely no control over. Call them what you will. Some people will label them acts of God. I don't know. But these things are completely out of your grasp. Just as you wouldn't blame yourself for a plane crash two states over, you shouldn't blame yourself for these same kind of things that happen before your eyes." Mulder attempts to stop crying were hopeless. "Do you hear what I'm saying, kiddo?" He laughed humorlessly, sniffling. "I've always been like this, you know." He referred to his tears. Margaret looked concerned. "Do you hear what I'm saying, Mulder?" "You called me Mulder." He seemed slightly astonished. "Were you *listening* to what I was saying, Mulder? Fox? Can I trust you to keep my words in mind all the time? Can you promise?" He bit his lip. "Yes." "Because I care about you as if you were my own. I don't want to see you hurt -- inside or out. Okay? You were the best friend Dana ever had. You keep her spirit alive, Fox." Mulder put his arms around her once more, and this time she was the one to cry, and he to comfort. * * * End. * * * * * * Comments? mara@pacificrim.net