TITLE: Truth
AUTHOR: Sam23
EMAIL: samcole23@aol.com
RATING: G
CATEGORY: angst, revelation, Mulder POV
SPOILERS: Season 9
SUMMARY: Mulder uncovers the truth, and finds out his world is not what it seemed
DISCLAIMER: Although they really don't deserve them anymore, Mulder and Scully still belong to Chris Carter and Fox. A shame.
AUTHORS NOTE: A friend (hi Nikki!) told me about the first episode of season nine and I was in total shock. I hate what they did to Mulder. This is my way of dealing with everything that is happening right now. I don't know if this story works or not. It was just an odd idea I had. What if Mulder found the ultimate truth? What if his world was not what it seemed? It's a pretty weird piece of Fiction, but it is dedicated to all ff-writers out there. As my friend Nikki has put it: Preserve the memories!
Truth
Fox Mulder got in the car, slammed the door shut and closed his eyes. This was it. It was over. Forever. The taxi-driver took the last suitcase and put it into the trunk. Mulder looked over to the house. He would never see it again. He would never see her again. Tears welled up in his eyes and for a brief second he thought the pain would kill him right now, right here. Game over. This was it. And why? Because life wasn't fair. Because everything that counted in this world was money, power, good looks and high ratings. That was why.
It was not fair. He loved her. More than he had ever loved anyone before in his life. And he loved his son. He had a family. For a brief moment he had found total happiness. And now? Now he waited for the cab to take him to nowhere-land. Literally.
Fox Mulder wasn't afraid of what was going to happen now. He doubted that he would even feel it. One moment he would exist and the next he would be gone. Like dying in your sleep. That was at least what he thought it would be like. Naturally no one had told him what was going to happen now, but he knew. Somehow he knew. It was over.
It was not fair. Fox starred at his reflection in the window. He looked so much older than nine years ago. But that was no surprise, given what he had gone through during the past years. Why had they made him do all those things? Why had they made him endure so much pain, suffer so much injuries? He had passed all the challenges they had set for him. And this was what he got in return? They just wrote him out of the script. They wiped his existence away with one sentence, probably written during lunch break or late at night on a computer.
It was not fair. He still didn't understand it. Fox wiped away the tears, before the cab-driver could notice him crying. The truth. He had finally found the truth. He really had. And it had blown his mind. This was more bizarre than anything he could have imagined in his wildest dreams. He knew the truth now and as he had always believed - it had set him free for a brief second, before he realized that he had been a prisoner all these years. If he hadn't found the truth going away would have made perfect sense to him. He would have climbed into that cab and never looked back. He would have done what the script had called for.
A wave of anger washed over him and in order to release at least part of it, he hit the window.
"Whoa, man, slow down, buddy, okay?", the cab-driver shouted and turned around to face his passenger.
"Breaking my window won't bring her back, mister."
"What?"
"A woman. That's what it is, right? I can see it in your face. It's a woman. It always is", the cab-driver explained.
Mulder shook his head. This wasn't about a woman. This was about someone who was playing god and getting away with it. Someone Mulder had never met in his life and would never have the chance to meet. Someone powerful. Someone who made a lot of money fooling around with Mulder's feelings. But how could he explain that to the driver?
"What's your destination?", the man asked. Mulder started laughing bitterly. A destination? He didn't know, because this was not his life. This was not what he, Fox William Mulder, had planned for today. This was what someone else made him do, just as that someone had made him do all sorts of things during the last years.
Mulder tried to remember the first time he realised something was wrong. Oh, there were a couple of things, that he found pretty weird. Like the fact that he and Scully could get badly hurt one week and be perfectly fine the next. Like the fact that he could remember everything work-related really well, but had no idea what he did in his spare-time. Like the fact that he hadn't known the name of his fish Molly until recently. Like the fact that for a long time he had no idea why he always slept on that very uncomfortable couch. There were times when he had thought to himself: "This can't be real." Now he knew he had been right about that.
He remembered the night everything had changed forever. New Year's Eve. He had kissed Scully at midnight. And it changed his life forever. It was like in a fairy tale, only much more cruel than that. His thoughts travelled back in time . . .
. . . he didn't want this kiss ever to end. This was bliss. This was total happiness. For a moment Fox Mulder felt as he had never felt before. He was at the right place at the right time. He felt alive. He didn't want the kiss to end and was terrified when he realised that he was the one who stepped back. He smiled at Scully, but he didn't feel like smiling. He opened his mouth and wanted to tell her how much he cared about her. But instead he said: "The world didn't end?"
That was not what he had had in mind. Literally. The words he spoke were not his words. They were words someone had written down for him to speak. Just then he looked up at the TV. Wondering. And that was when he found the truth. The ultimate truth. None of this was real. He didn't exist. He was nothing more than a character in a movie.
Or a TV-show.
Mulder looked back to the house, ignoring the impatient cab-driver. His life was fiction. And in a few seconds he would loose it. They terminated his screen-life. As soon as the cab would leave, he wouldn't be part of this story any more.
He had thought a lot about why they decided to kill him off. Maybe "God" aka "the creator" thought he was too boring. Maybe the audience didn't like him anymore. Maybe the actor that had given him a body wanted to move on to other projects. Maybe he wanted to become a big movie-star or something. But Fox couldn't really blame him. This actor-guy could never know that he was terminating the existence of a living, conscious being.
Cause that was, what he had become since that new year's night. Sometimes he hadn't realized he was doing things other people wanted him to do. Maybe on those occasions his own actions were exactly what the script had called for anyway.
But especially when it came to his personal life he didn't agree with anything they made him do. It hurt. It hurt so much. There were times when he wanted to scream out loud, because they made him do things, he would never have done.
For example on the day, he had said good-bye to Scully before he had been abducted. She had begged him to stay. Not to go back. And he had agreed. No way he would go back there. All he wanted was to smile at her and invite her to lunch. But they had made him leave anyway.
What made him really angry was the fact that they toyed with his emotions. They didn't want him to be happy. He was not supposed to be happy. Happy people are boring. Happy people don't have the potential for conflict, and without conflict there is not story. Happy people are much harder to write for, because the writer has to come up with other ways to put them into emotional distress. Making someone cry because someone else killed of their brother/sister/mother/father was so much easier than to come up with creative ideas. So that was what they did. Killing of everyone he loved. He wondered why they hadn't killed Scully, but figured that the actress probably had a long running contract.
Scully. It broke his heart to think of her. They would make her suffer. He knew it. That was what they did. They would make her think that he had just left her. Without giving any reason. Without once looking back. And when they were satisfied with the storylines that emotional distress produced they would make her forget he ever existed.
"Are you planning on leaving or staying here?", the cab-driver asked. Mulder blinked. He didn't want to leave.
"Then don't"
Mulder tilted his head. The cab-driver was looking at him.
"It's complicated", Fox replied. The cab-driver shrugged.
"That's life."
Mulder closed his eyes. Right. This was what life was like. Really like. He made a decision and got out of the car.
"I'll be staying here", he told the cab-driver.
Suddenly he felt a presence. A force that was trying to block his path, to make him go back to the car. Mulder clenched his fists and pulled up all his strength. He took one step towards the house, than another. This is my life, he thought. And I won't let anyone control me anymore.
Mulder flinched. He could see the street behind him starting to dissolve. The cab was already gone. The ground he was standing on, was turning black, as was the sky and everything around him.
Too late, Fox Mulder thought, as the darkness embraced him. He couldn't see a thing. Everything was black. The house was gone, as was the street, the sky and everything else. So this is the end, he thought and tears started streaming down his face. This wasn't fair.
Mulder closed his eyes. Suddenly he heard a sound. He tilted his head. That sounded like someone hitting the buttons on a keyboard. Someone was typing something. The sound was echoing in his ears and it seemed to come from every direction.
Mulder blinked. Suddenly there were images in his mind. Him and Scully at the beach. Dancing at a party. At the ballpark with Doggett and Reyes and William. Sitting on a bench, watching the sun go down. He knew for sure that those things had not happened, but still, they were so real. Mulder shook his head and opened his eyes.
Most of the world around him was still black, but the house and the small walkway leading up to it were back. Mulder took a step forward. Then another one. When he reached the door, he turned back and looked into the darkness that was retreating with every second that passed. The typing- sounds grew faint, but he could still hear them. And somehow he knew that he would never forget them. That they would be a part of him from now on. Somehow he knew that the person who had caused all this suffering was no longer in control of his life. He wasn't sure who was right now. He wasn't even sure if it was a single person or a million. But he knew that they cared about him And that was all he needed to know.
Mulder opened the door. His family was waiting for him.
The end
Weird, uh? Very metaphorical. I still don't know what to make of it myself, even though I wrote this thing. Just wanted to add one thing: I am German, hence not a native speaker, so please excuse any mistakes I made.
AUTHOR: Sam23
EMAIL: samcole23@aol.com
RATING: G
CATEGORY: angst, revelation, Mulder POV
SPOILERS: Season 9
SUMMARY: Mulder uncovers the truth, and finds out his world is not what it seemed
DISCLAIMER: Although they really don't deserve them anymore, Mulder and Scully still belong to Chris Carter and Fox. A shame.
AUTHORS NOTE: A friend (hi Nikki!) told me about the first episode of season nine and I was in total shock. I hate what they did to Mulder. This is my way of dealing with everything that is happening right now. I don't know if this story works or not. It was just an odd idea I had. What if Mulder found the ultimate truth? What if his world was not what it seemed? It's a pretty weird piece of Fiction, but it is dedicated to all ff-writers out there. As my friend Nikki has put it: Preserve the memories!
Truth
Fox Mulder got in the car, slammed the door shut and closed his eyes. This was it. It was over. Forever. The taxi-driver took the last suitcase and put it into the trunk. Mulder looked over to the house. He would never see it again. He would never see her again. Tears welled up in his eyes and for a brief second he thought the pain would kill him right now, right here. Game over. This was it. And why? Because life wasn't fair. Because everything that counted in this world was money, power, good looks and high ratings. That was why.
It was not fair. He loved her. More than he had ever loved anyone before in his life. And he loved his son. He had a family. For a brief moment he had found total happiness. And now? Now he waited for the cab to take him to nowhere-land. Literally.
Fox Mulder wasn't afraid of what was going to happen now. He doubted that he would even feel it. One moment he would exist and the next he would be gone. Like dying in your sleep. That was at least what he thought it would be like. Naturally no one had told him what was going to happen now, but he knew. Somehow he knew. It was over.
It was not fair. Fox starred at his reflection in the window. He looked so much older than nine years ago. But that was no surprise, given what he had gone through during the past years. Why had they made him do all those things? Why had they made him endure so much pain, suffer so much injuries? He had passed all the challenges they had set for him. And this was what he got in return? They just wrote him out of the script. They wiped his existence away with one sentence, probably written during lunch break or late at night on a computer.
It was not fair. He still didn't understand it. Fox wiped away the tears, before the cab-driver could notice him crying. The truth. He had finally found the truth. He really had. And it had blown his mind. This was more bizarre than anything he could have imagined in his wildest dreams. He knew the truth now and as he had always believed - it had set him free for a brief second, before he realized that he had been a prisoner all these years. If he hadn't found the truth going away would have made perfect sense to him. He would have climbed into that cab and never looked back. He would have done what the script had called for.
A wave of anger washed over him and in order to release at least part of it, he hit the window.
"Whoa, man, slow down, buddy, okay?", the cab-driver shouted and turned around to face his passenger.
"Breaking my window won't bring her back, mister."
"What?"
"A woman. That's what it is, right? I can see it in your face. It's a woman. It always is", the cab-driver explained.
Mulder shook his head. This wasn't about a woman. This was about someone who was playing god and getting away with it. Someone Mulder had never met in his life and would never have the chance to meet. Someone powerful. Someone who made a lot of money fooling around with Mulder's feelings. But how could he explain that to the driver?
"What's your destination?", the man asked. Mulder started laughing bitterly. A destination? He didn't know, because this was not his life. This was not what he, Fox William Mulder, had planned for today. This was what someone else made him do, just as that someone had made him do all sorts of things during the last years.
Mulder tried to remember the first time he realised something was wrong. Oh, there were a couple of things, that he found pretty weird. Like the fact that he and Scully could get badly hurt one week and be perfectly fine the next. Like the fact that he could remember everything work-related really well, but had no idea what he did in his spare-time. Like the fact that he hadn't known the name of his fish Molly until recently. Like the fact that for a long time he had no idea why he always slept on that very uncomfortable couch. There were times when he had thought to himself: "This can't be real." Now he knew he had been right about that.
He remembered the night everything had changed forever. New Year's Eve. He had kissed Scully at midnight. And it changed his life forever. It was like in a fairy tale, only much more cruel than that. His thoughts travelled back in time . . .
. . . he didn't want this kiss ever to end. This was bliss. This was total happiness. For a moment Fox Mulder felt as he had never felt before. He was at the right place at the right time. He felt alive. He didn't want the kiss to end and was terrified when he realised that he was the one who stepped back. He smiled at Scully, but he didn't feel like smiling. He opened his mouth and wanted to tell her how much he cared about her. But instead he said: "The world didn't end?"
That was not what he had had in mind. Literally. The words he spoke were not his words. They were words someone had written down for him to speak. Just then he looked up at the TV. Wondering. And that was when he found the truth. The ultimate truth. None of this was real. He didn't exist. He was nothing more than a character in a movie.
Or a TV-show.
Mulder looked back to the house, ignoring the impatient cab-driver. His life was fiction. And in a few seconds he would loose it. They terminated his screen-life. As soon as the cab would leave, he wouldn't be part of this story any more.
He had thought a lot about why they decided to kill him off. Maybe "God" aka "the creator" thought he was too boring. Maybe the audience didn't like him anymore. Maybe the actor that had given him a body wanted to move on to other projects. Maybe he wanted to become a big movie-star or something. But Fox couldn't really blame him. This actor-guy could never know that he was terminating the existence of a living, conscious being.
Cause that was, what he had become since that new year's night. Sometimes he hadn't realized he was doing things other people wanted him to do. Maybe on those occasions his own actions were exactly what the script had called for anyway.
But especially when it came to his personal life he didn't agree with anything they made him do. It hurt. It hurt so much. There were times when he wanted to scream out loud, because they made him do things, he would never have done.
For example on the day, he had said good-bye to Scully before he had been abducted. She had begged him to stay. Not to go back. And he had agreed. No way he would go back there. All he wanted was to smile at her and invite her to lunch. But they had made him leave anyway.
What made him really angry was the fact that they toyed with his emotions. They didn't want him to be happy. He was not supposed to be happy. Happy people are boring. Happy people don't have the potential for conflict, and without conflict there is not story. Happy people are much harder to write for, because the writer has to come up with other ways to put them into emotional distress. Making someone cry because someone else killed of their brother/sister/mother/father was so much easier than to come up with creative ideas. So that was what they did. Killing of everyone he loved. He wondered why they hadn't killed Scully, but figured that the actress probably had a long running contract.
Scully. It broke his heart to think of her. They would make her suffer. He knew it. That was what they did. They would make her think that he had just left her. Without giving any reason. Without once looking back. And when they were satisfied with the storylines that emotional distress produced they would make her forget he ever existed.
"Are you planning on leaving or staying here?", the cab-driver asked. Mulder blinked. He didn't want to leave.
"Then don't"
Mulder tilted his head. The cab-driver was looking at him.
"It's complicated", Fox replied. The cab-driver shrugged.
"That's life."
Mulder closed his eyes. Right. This was what life was like. Really like. He made a decision and got out of the car.
"I'll be staying here", he told the cab-driver.
Suddenly he felt a presence. A force that was trying to block his path, to make him go back to the car. Mulder clenched his fists and pulled up all his strength. He took one step towards the house, than another. This is my life, he thought. And I won't let anyone control me anymore.
Mulder flinched. He could see the street behind him starting to dissolve. The cab was already gone. The ground he was standing on, was turning black, as was the sky and everything around him.
Too late, Fox Mulder thought, as the darkness embraced him. He couldn't see a thing. Everything was black. The house was gone, as was the street, the sky and everything else. So this is the end, he thought and tears started streaming down his face. This wasn't fair.
Mulder closed his eyes. Suddenly he heard a sound. He tilted his head. That sounded like someone hitting the buttons on a keyboard. Someone was typing something. The sound was echoing in his ears and it seemed to come from every direction.
Mulder blinked. Suddenly there were images in his mind. Him and Scully at the beach. Dancing at a party. At the ballpark with Doggett and Reyes and William. Sitting on a bench, watching the sun go down. He knew for sure that those things had not happened, but still, they were so real. Mulder shook his head and opened his eyes.
Most of the world around him was still black, but the house and the small walkway leading up to it were back. Mulder took a step forward. Then another one. When he reached the door, he turned back and looked into the darkness that was retreating with every second that passed. The typing- sounds grew faint, but he could still hear them. And somehow he knew that he would never forget them. That they would be a part of him from now on. Somehow he knew that the person who had caused all this suffering was no longer in control of his life. He wasn't sure who was right now. He wasn't even sure if it was a single person or a million. But he knew that they cared about him And that was all he needed to know.
Mulder opened the door. His family was waiting for him.
The end
Weird, uh? Very metaphorical. I still don't know what to make of it myself, even though I wrote this thing. Just wanted to add one thing: I am German, hence not a native speaker, so please excuse any mistakes I made.