Nothing
By Elysia
I know what all this really boils down to is that I deserve this. One way or another. I actually thought he was coming back. I never should have counted on anything. Of course they would have never let him live. He knew more about them than they did themselves. He just forgot to look where he was going.
And it killed him.
Skinner told me to stop thinking the worse, and so I did. I let my emotional guard down for five minutes, and what do I get? I get a dead best friend, and no chance of ever really being happy again. My mom would say, "You still have the baby to look forward to…" God, if I only I could believe that the baby is even mine, I guess it would be enough to keep me from going crazy. But I don't even have that insurance. I cannot even begin to fathom what will happen the day I give birth, but I don't even care.
I'm screaming at the sky, the people from the other room pooling around the doorway, watching the short, redheaded woman cry and shout to what ever she thinks is listening. Do I care? I wouldn't care right now if Dad and Melissa came to me and told me everything would be fine. I don't care if someone puts a gun to my head.
I'm still screaming. Skinner and Doggett have pushed their ways through the crowd of people. I'm all of the sudden quiet. I am wrapped in the arms of one of the few friends I have left. I am crying softly into Skinner's jacket. I really have nothing left to live for. Not the X-Files, not the Truth, hell, not even the thing I'm supposed to be the mother of.
So here I am, enveloped in the protection in one of the two people in my life that I can trust, crying out what seems to be centuries worth of grieving. I have noting, not even the "child" that gestates in my womb.
I guess I must deserve it.
By Elysia
I know what all this really boils down to is that I deserve this. One way or another. I actually thought he was coming back. I never should have counted on anything. Of course they would have never let him live. He knew more about them than they did themselves. He just forgot to look where he was going.
And it killed him.
Skinner told me to stop thinking the worse, and so I did. I let my emotional guard down for five minutes, and what do I get? I get a dead best friend, and no chance of ever really being happy again. My mom would say, "You still have the baby to look forward to…" God, if I only I could believe that the baby is even mine, I guess it would be enough to keep me from going crazy. But I don't even have that insurance. I cannot even begin to fathom what will happen the day I give birth, but I don't even care.
I'm screaming at the sky, the people from the other room pooling around the doorway, watching the short, redheaded woman cry and shout to what ever she thinks is listening. Do I care? I wouldn't care right now if Dad and Melissa came to me and told me everything would be fine. I don't care if someone puts a gun to my head.
I'm still screaming. Skinner and Doggett have pushed their ways through the crowd of people. I'm all of the sudden quiet. I am wrapped in the arms of one of the few friends I have left. I am crying softly into Skinner's jacket. I really have nothing left to live for. Not the X-Files, not the Truth, hell, not even the thing I'm supposed to be the mother of.
So here I am, enveloped in the protection in one of the two people in my life that I can trust, crying out what seems to be centuries worth of grieving. I have noting, not even the "child" that gestates in my womb.
I guess I must deserve it.