Ever wonder why Doggett is so adamantly against digging up Mulders grave. Why he insists that Scully doesn't need this "false" hope. Well wonder no more…

I know this is going to sound morbid, but sometimes I enjoy walking through the graveyard. I like to read the tombstones. I like to make up scenarios, pretend like I know the people buried there. Make up lives and stories for them. It gets my mind off my own shit, for awhile.

Today was different. I walked with purpose, like I was being drawn to a certain grave. That wasn't my intention when I decided to come here. I had every thought that this was going to be like every other time I had visited a cemetery. As I walked I didn't even stop to look at the headstones. Didn't read any of them names like I usually did, just walked right on by.

Finally I found myself stopping in front a headstone. I looked up to read the names, and was surprised at what I found there; an entire family. Mother, father, and by the dates marking their births and deaths their children as well. How sad; an entire family lost. Death had occurred for them at different times, but they were all returned to one another for their final resting place.

The plot was well kept, and there were flowers resting against the stone. Someone had been here recently to mourn their lost loved ones. The flowers were simple, nothing extravagant. I couldn't tell you what type of flowers they were, but to me they looked sad. Almost as though they were weeping. Like the flowers themselves, were crying at the tragedy that had become this family. I starred at them, and found that tears were welling up in my own eyes. It was then that I noticed the envelope; tucked between the stems of the flowers. My curiosity was piqued. I know I shouldn't, after all it was none of my business. My time spent here was to observe and "make up" people. Not try and find out who they really were. Unfortunately, I'm only human any mu curiosity got the best of me.

I nonchalantly looked around me, to ensure that whoever had left the envelope was indeed gone. Once
I was sure I was alone, I quickly reached down and plucked the envelope from the stems of the flowers. It did not appear to be addressed to any one specifically. I wondered which member of the family this was meant for. Well I guess there would be only one way to find out. I glanced around again, and then slowly carefully opened the envelope. Inside it appeared to be a letter. I unfolded the paper, and found that my guess had been right. It was a letter; a handwritten letter on simple plain white paper. The handwriting was neat, but clearly written in haste. Maybe someone in a hurry or someone who couldn't get the words out as fast as the thoughts and emotions were coming. Was I really going to do this? Was I really going to invade someone's privacy like this? I glanced at a few lines in the letter, and decided yes evidently I was. Well I might as well start from the beginning.

Mulder,

I'm sorry I can't be here myself to say these words to you, but it's just too hard. I haven't been able to bring myself to return here since your funeral. It hurts too much. So instead I sent this with my mom. I don't know anything about faith anymore, so I don't even know if these words will ever reach you. But I can't not say anything, so I can only hope that the god that I learnt about in church, the loving merciful being will somehow let this get to you. .

I miss you.

I miss you so much. I miss your smell, your smile, your wry humor, your dry wit, your intelligence. I miss everything. Not a day goes by that I don't think about you. I thought that by now you would be out of my mind. That I would finally have found a way to learn to live without you. Time heals all wounds right? Well I've been waiting, and the time goes by so slowly, but nothing has changed. I immerse myself in work trying to move on. I thought by now there would be a hundred things to do that would keep me from thinking of you, keep my heart from missing you.

But it doesn't work that way, I've still got your face painted on my heart.

You know my new partner, has made it clear that he is interested in me. I took up his dinner offer one night, and went out with him. I figured it would do me no harm to get out and act like a normal person. As we were eating that I night, I tried to picture myself with him. I tried to picture him and me together. But I kept comparing him to you. Everything he said; the way he moved; the way he laughed. Nothing he did was good enough. HE was not good enough, because he wasn't you. Instead of going home that night, I went to your apartment and slept in your bed. Yes it's true, I have kept your apartment, and I feed your fish. Its sick I know and I know it's not helping the grieving process. But dammit I can't get it out of my mind that you're coming back. I know Mr. Psychologist, that's not helping either. I talk to you when imp there, at your apartment. I discuss my day, our work; I talk like your still there sitting next to me. Do you ever hear me? Can you hear in my voice how much I long for you? And that even though I've tried everything to get my heart to forget you I just can't seem to.

I've still got your face scrawled upon my soul. In every part of me, every fiber of my being, there is still a part of you.

I have so much to tell you, but I can't bring myself to write it down in some letter. I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise. There I go again thinking you're going to come back. I can't let go of that fantasy. I sleep in your bed at least three days of the week. I love that I can still smell you when imp lying in your bed. Although sadly your scent is slowly being replaced with mine. The first time I realized that I spent the whole night crying. Sometime the only thing that helps me sleep is thinking of our last night together. That night in Oregon. You lay spooned up behind me. Telling me some nonsense, about how it's not worth it and I should go home. I never got the chance to tell you wrong you were about that night. I wasn't feeling sad or lost or scared. That night was one of the most content nights I've ever had. So when I find it hard to sleep, when I have had a nightmare I bring myself back to that night. And only then can I find enough peace to finally fall asleep. Do you know what I have nightmares about? Not about monsters, or the horrific things they did to you while you were missing. I dream about the last time I saw you. Standing in the hallway outside of the Skinners office. When we decided that you would go back without me. I dream I can see you standing there, looking at me with such love and concern. I can literally feel the love coming off of you. Then you start to disappear. And I can't feel it anymore, and I can't hear you anymore…it's that image the tears me from sleep. I wake with tears in my eyes and sobs in my throat. That look in your eyes still haunts me. I know that no matter how hard I try and escape you, that I will never chase you from my mind.

Your face is etched upon my memory. I've got your kiss still burning on my lips. I can still feel the touch of your fingertips. I can still feel your love so deep inside me.

I feel in my heart, that if you were really dead that I would feel it. So there you have it Mulder I have denied scientific proof. I believe that whether I seen your body or not, I would know deep inside me if I was meant to live without you forever. So I wait. And I will always be waiting. So come home to me soon, because I miss you.

Love,

Scully

I starred at the note for a long time. Reading some parts over again. Feeling the emotion of it wash over me. She needed to forget, she needed to move on. This wasn't healthy.

At that moment, I was startled by a vibration in my pocket. Torn out of my reverie I answered in a low voice.

"Hello?"

"Agent Doggett, is that you?"

"Yah Scully it's me, what's up?"

"I just finished that autopsy of the second victim, and I think you should come and look at these results."

"Mmm alright, give me an hour or so though, I just have to finish up some things."

"Sure, no rush John…Are you ok?"

"Yah of course, I'm fine. Actually I was going to ask you the same thing, after we had dinner last night you sort of ran away from me, and I have barely heard from you since. Was there anything you wanted to talk to me about Dana?"

"No actually I am feeling much better. Better than I have in a while that's for sure. I seem to have acquired some inner peace. I had been trying to force something to happen. Something that didn't need to be happening. Once I accepted the inevitable, well I could literally feel the peace washing over me."

"Really? That doesn't sound like something you would say. Care to elaborate?'

"I know it doesn't sound me, but I have a renewed sense of faith, a renewed hope. It's only a matter of time, and I can wait."

"Dana…?'

"Don't worry about it John just be happy I'm doing ok, that's all I need from you. Listen I'm going to let you go, I will see you when get here…ok? Bye"

"Bye"

I placed my phone back in my pocket. Hmmm all she needed from me eh? Well she was going to get a lot more than that. I folded the letter perfectly and placed it in the envelope. Careful to not change anything about the appearance. I placed it back between the stems of the weeping flowers. I starred at the grave again. I had never met Fox Mulder, but apparently he had made quite an impact on Scully. Right then and there I made it my personal mission, to help her get through this. To give up this fantasy. I would be her partner, and her friend. And in time maybe something else. She would forget about Fox Mulder I would make sure of that. I starred for one last moment at the headstone, and then I turned and walked away.