I love the song "Photograph" by Ed Sheeran. Hearing it reminds me of MSR. I hope you enjoy this short little one shot. Feedback is appreciated for this song fic.
Summary: Scully and Mulder revisit photographs.
Disclaimer: I don't own anybody or anything.
"Loving can hurt
Loving can hurt sometimes
But it's the only thing
That I know
And when it gets hard
You know it can get hard sometimes
It is the only thing that makes us feel alive"
Scully slowly turned the pages of the photograph book. This was one of those days she was feeling the loss of William. Her son. Their son. Yes, the hurt made her feel alive. I'm tired of bleeding pain, she thought. What could have their lives been like...if only. Scully cleared her throat and turned the next page. She loved looking at William. Sweet little baby cheeks. Big toothless grin. She had never felt that much love for their little guy. She cherished the picture that Byers took of the three of them that night. Right before Mulder left them. She stroked the picture, feeling the cold plastic on her fingertips.
"We keep this love in a photograph
We make these memories for ourselves
Where our eyes are never closing
Hearts are never broken
And time's forever frozen still"
Mulder thought about calling her again. She asked for her space. It's too hard, he thought, as he put down the phone. He picked up the picture of the three of them that he kept close. The edges were worn from being held by his hands. He told himself to stop caressing their faces, or they might fade away. He wondered constantly what she was doing. Was she ok? That last night together, the things that were said, the things that were unsaid, tore at his soul. She needed to heal, she told him. She gave him one last kiss and walked out the door. The look in his eyes, seeing the face of her baby, reminded her of what she had done. He had forgiven her, so why couldn't she forgive herself? William would be a teenager now. Mulder cursed himself for not being there for them during that time he was away. His selfishness tormented him. He slowly unraveled the threads on his ripped jeans. Why not, he mourned, I have nothing else to do. She told him she'd come back home. He slammed his fists into the couch and took another gulp of bourbon.
"So you can keep me
Inside the pocket
Of your ripped jeans
Holdin' me closer
Til our eyes meet
You won't ever be alone
Wait for me to come home"
Scully finally got off the couch and decided to take a warm bubble bath. William. Why? Why did life have to turn out that way. It's not what she planned. She'd always wanted a life. A family. A husband. Mulder. Her husband. She shook her head as to shake his memory from her brain. But that memory would forever be in her heart. Was she wrong for wanting to heal alone? At the time, she thought she did. She always heard that time will heal all pain. So what's taking her's so long?
"Loving can heal
Loving can mend your soul
And is the only thing
That I know (know)
I swear it will get easier
Remember that with every piece of ya
And it's the only thing we take with us when we die"
Echoes of footsteps filled the house. That was the only sound Mulder heard. No banging of dishes in the kitchen. No laughter of her running around the house as he chased her with his Stonehenge shirt – trying to make her wear it. No voice of reason urging him to never give up. The photographs lined the hallway. Each one bringing back a faded memory. The last one was his favorite. The one on the right, by the door. He touched her face on that picture and smiled back at her frozen smile. He walked to their bedroom and looked around. How long will this wait be? He took another drink waiting for her to come home.
"Oh you can fit me
Inside the necklace you got when you were 16
Next to your heartbeat
Where I should be
Keep it deep within your soul"
The bubble bath soothed her body, but not her heart. In sickness and health, for better or worse. Till death. They had faced and conquered death many times. Why couldn't she allow him to help her face this? She picked up her locket that had his tiny picture placed inside. Her father got her the heart locket on her 16th birthday. She hadn't worn it in years – until now. Her cross necklace and his photograph never came off her neck. Now that she was away from Mulder, she kept that picture in the locket. She picked up her wedding ring and felt the engraving of the inside. Forever. Forever it said. What was she doing? Why was she doing this? They deserved better. Dana you are stupid! That man loves you. And you love him. Their last anniversary was spent at the lake. He showered her with her favorite flowers and even made supper that night when they got home. He vowed he'd love her forever. His touchstone, he called her, yet once again. She placed the ring back on her finger.
"We keep this love in a photograph
We make these memories for ourselves
Where our eyes are never closing
Hearts are never broken
And time's forever frozen still"
Dust enveloped the photograph on the side table. Mulder laid down on the bed, remembering the nights of love they made here. The softness of her body, the smell of her hair. The way she looked coming out of the shower. The way she watched him when she thought he wasn't looking. How free they felt around each other. Inside this house, they were all that mattered. No one else was in their world. Except the words left unspoken of William. She promised she come back, but it had been so long, he had given up. The bottle was empty. He needed more. Alcohol and sunflower seeds were his constants. The empty shell of a home surrounded him.
She looked at the photograph of their wedding day. The happiness in her eyes shown brighter than the sun. The way he gazed at her let her know that she was the one and only. He had forgiven her, so why couldn't she forgive herself. The only sound in the room was the thump of her heart. William was fine. He was taken care of and loved. She knew she did the right thing for that precious baby's safety. He deserved a life and she couldn't give him that. All she could give him was love. That love for his life made her make that decision. He would have had a life of terror and unrest. Her love gave him a stable life. Her unselfishness was not selfish, it was an act of love. This realization hit her hard in the heart. She made the right decision. Now she had another to make.
The buzz of his cellphone woke him from the drunken sleep. He turned to look at the photograph of her before he got up. His grogginess didn't allow him to see the name on the screen.
"Yeah," he growled. The smell of the alcohol from his breath slapped him in the face.
"I'm coming home" was all heard as the lock turned on the door. The photograph fell to the floor as she reached up to place her hands on his face.
"When I'm away
I will remember how you kissed me
Under the lamppost
Back on 6th street
Hearing you whisper through the phone
Wait for me to come home"