AN: another x-files fic written in high school. Enjoy :)
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully
belong to Chris, yadda yadda yadda...
Spoilers:Tunguska/Terma, The Blessing Way, One Breath, etc
Summary: Scully Thinking to herself in solitary confinement
***
Honesty is not always the best policy.
She had learned that some time ago, but now it seemed most evident.
Honesty
A simple word; to be truthful, open, without pretense.
Truth
It was the Truth that kept her in here, inside this white box with only a small window to remind her of the outside world. It was the Truth that brought Mulder to Russia, where he may be injured or dead.
The Truth had eluded them for the past four years. Had seen them in pain , in fear, had had her kidnapped, had taken Mulder's sister, killed hers, and yet they still search with no end in sight.
She hadn't really lied to them. The same panel that knew all of the answers they presumed to seek had held her in contempt for hers.
Silence
Much like what she was hearing now.
Silence had been her answer. She couldn't tell them. If they knew he was in Russia they would hunt him as fervently as he hunted for his little grey men.
As she stared up at the ceiling thinking, she wondered how many other women had been in her cell. How many other people had been punished by simple isolation.
She was alone now. She had been at that hearing. He wasn't there.
*When did this happen * She thought, *When did my definition of 'alone' evolve to be 'when Mulder's not there'?*
She knew very well when it happened. When They took her and she was being tested by God only knows who (or what), and she awoke -alone. When her last real memory was of talking to Mulder's answering machine and then suddenly she was in a hospital hooked up to four different machines. Her first thought was that he wasn't there.
She was alone
Even with her family, she'd felt alone.
Now she prepared herself to be alone fore a very long time- possibly forever. If he'd gotten himself killed out in Russia, she didn't know if she could ever go on.
Or if she would want to.
*please be okay* she thought, hoping that somehow he could hear her. *don't leave me here, I can't do this without you*
Suddenly she was hit with memories. Memories of them working together, him handing her his gun, and her covering his hand with hers, him rescuing her from Pfaster, her talking with him while they were *stranded* on a rock, her sitting by his bedside after he went looking for his sister in Alaska, him checking her mosquito bites. She remembered everything, the past four years re-played themselves in her mind, but one image, out of place from the others, refused to let go. That of her, kneeling beside a grave.
Alone.