A/N: This was written during a series of incredibly boring physics classes, and it is a product of me challenging myself to write from Mulder's POV because I've only written Scully until now. Also, I didn't have a beta... So that is why there are probably typos galore, and tense problems. If you find them, point them out to me if you want, just be nice. Write a review too, because it makes me very happy to hear from you, even if you have something negative to say!

This is a story about what I see Mulder doing if Scully had died from her cancer. This is set directly after her death. I don't know how well I write angst, so maybe it's a touch over dramatic... OKAY, it's really overdramatic, but don't judge me.

Disclaimer: I'm Chris Carter, so I own this stuff. Ha, I wish, don't sue me. The idea for Mulder's little epiphany type thing at the end was taken from another fanfiction on the website, called The Day Your Hair Turned Red, by EstreyaStar. I took things in a way different direction, so I hope no one gets mad, I just love the idea!

Enjoy:)

The air in your apartment is still. I gulp it in, hoping that one last trace of you is here, but there isn't. There is nothing.

You are gone.

I'm alone.

Somehow I find myself on the ground. I'm clutching at the carpet.

Why, why, why?

I can hear myself sobbing, hear myself screaming your name, but my mind is a million miles away. As if I'm dying my life flashes before my eyes.

That's when I realize that somewhere along the line, you became my life.

When did "going down to the X-files" become "going down to see Scully"? When did "want some coffee Scully?" turn into "here's your coffee Scully"? How did "what do you want on your pizza?" change into "I got our usual pizza order"?

The thoughts face and my mind is blank.

I'm haunted by you Scully.

The silence of the room threatens to enclose me.

The cacophony of my unsaid words cuts through me, and when I bleed, unspoken thoughts flow from my wounds.

Your beautiful hair wraps around my neck like a noose. Your cold, soft hands clutch mine so tightly I can't move. Your perfume, once so intoxicating, suffocates me.

I try to call out for you, but I'm drowning in a sea of my own beautiful lies.

I want to wake up from this nightmare, but this is my new reality.

That's when you come to me.

Scully, you look like an angel. I breathe out your name.

You smile. "I've missed you Fox." I must've involuntarily crinkled my nose because you smile wider and say, "Mulder."

I find my voice. "Scully! I need you! Come back to me! You are my everything, I-"

"Mulder."

"Scully."

"I'm so sorry that I left you. I did everything I could think of to try and prepare-"

"Nothing could've prepared me for this." As soon as I say these words I regret them. They make you look so sad. Your face completely changes. The dark circles return and with them come the worry lines, the puffy eyes, and the slight frown.

I try to back pedal.

"Scully, this is my fault. I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm the bastard that took everything away from you, including, now, your life."

You continue to stare at me.

"Please! I know I have no right to, but I'm begging for your forgiveness! I don't know if I can live with this..." I search for the right word. "I can't live with this guilt."

You raise your eyebrow and that's my breaking point. I begin to cry.

"Mulder", you let my name hang in the air for a moment. Something is changing about you.

"Mulder, why would I forgive you for loving me?"

You knew. How long had you known?

I close my eyes, lost in my own memories. I open them again when I feel your lips brush mine. Your eyes are two pools of blue and they stare straight through me.

"I love you."

"And I love you."

I could stare into your eyes forever, but you're already fading.

You still look as thought you're changing though, is it... Your hair? I try to get a grasp on what I seem to be seeing, but just like that you're gone.

I'm alone.

For the first time since your diagnosis I sleep soundly. I don't stir at the slightest noise and I don't toss and turn. My sleep is dreamless and full of unrest. I wake up more tired than I fell asleep.

My eyes feel puffy and your ceiling looks blurry when I wake.

Coming here was a mistake. This place is not you. It's just a place. It's a location. A spot on a map.

I'm unsure of where exactly I should go now, because I can't stay here any longer.

My place? It's empty there.

The bar? I check the time. 11:06 AM. That's definitely not happening.

Mom's? She has enough pain in her life without having mine to bear as well.

It dawns on me that I quite possibly have absolutely no where to go. Then, I have an idea.

Mrs. Scully's.

I've never deserved her support or care, but somehow she always gave it to me. At the very least, we can wallow in our grief together.

I stand on unsure legs. They don't seem to want to support the added weight of my guilt. My regret. My sorrow.

My body takes only simple commands.

Open the door.

Walk to the elevator.

Walk inside.

Press the 1.

Wait.

Step out of the elevator.

Walk to the door.

Open the door.

It's sensory overload when I step outside.

Sunlight burns my skin and blinds my eyes. Birdcalls assault my ears. Car exhaust invades my nose. It's just another day.

How could they not know? How could these people not know?

Scully, you're gone! Don't they realize what this means? Why don't they understand, everything that held me and my world together is gone?

But, how could they?

As my own world crashes down, they don't realize anything is wrong. I'm struck by the extreme normalcy. It's surreal.

The hurricanes attack only my body. Earthquakes shatter only my heart. Monsoons only fill my eyes.

When I reach my car I go into autopilot. During the drive I think about my vision of you last night. Towards the end something was changing about you. Your hair... It looked...

Different.

I can't quite put my finger on it. Whatever the change was, it made you look even more beautiful, if that was even possible. I think about it the entire way to your mother's house.

I pull into her driveway. It crossed my mind that Bill might be home. I shuddered involuntarily. There was no turning back now. The moment before my finger pressed down on the doorbell the door swung open.

Your mom looked so sad.

We stood for a couple seconds, taking stock of each other.

"Oh Fox", she whispered, and caught me in an embrace. There were so many things I wanted to tell her, but true to my form, I was silent.

She seemed to sense my desire to speak because she muttered, "I know Fox, I know."

"It hurts so much", I rasped, my throat sore from crying.

She held me closer. "Why don't you come in and stay for a while", she said, although it was unneeded.

Somehow I ended up inside on her couch with a mug of tea warming my hands. Your mother stared at me from across the room. She seemed to be reading my thoughts. A question broke the silence.

"Did you ever tell her?"

"What?" I ask. I'm thrown off by her inquisition.

"Did you tell her you loved her?" Her face, rather than portraying anger, blame, or even frustration at my hopelessness, remains neutral. She is genuinely concerned for me and interested in my answer.

In all my years of secret self-loathe I have never wanted to end it all so badly. I shook my head slightly.

She nodded her head, as though she expected that. "I know it doesn't help, but", she came close and touched my hand, "she knew."

"No", I murmured. I set down my mug. She's right. It doesn't help at all. Scully, you and I spent years ignoring it. We reassured each other and showed our love through simple touches, gestures, and gazes. Those things mean more than words I could ever speak, I know that. A part of me is crying out in despair though, 'It isn't enough!' I let my head fall into my waiting hands.

"Yes, yes she did." I can feel your mother giving me a look of pity.

I shake my head, still in my hands. "She just, she just." I can't find the words. "She just didn't understand..." I trail off. The words explode into my head.

Goddamn it, I love you Scully!

I love your plump, full lips, your dignified nose, your deep blue eyes. I love your cheekbones, your jaw line, your shoulders. I love your breasts, your soft porcelain waist and hips. I love your legs and your little feet, and even those ridiculous heels!

I love when your eyebrow shoots up, your eyes widen, and the corners of your mouth twitch. I love watching your eyes laugh.

You should've smiled more Scully.

Any day you blessed me with a laugh was an amazing one.

I love the feeling of your hand in mine, and your warmth pressed against me.

I love the way you never questioned my intelligence, only my beliefs. I love the way you defended me without even being sure why, or if I was right.

I love being in love with you Scully.

I feel your mom's hand slip into mine. I've spoken my thoughts aloud for once. I lift my head at the sound of my name.

I made your mom cry.

"Fox, Dana knew. I'm telling you, she knew then, and she knows now."

God how I wish I could believe that. I tell her as much. I would've given anything to not have been talking to myself. I know that you can't hear me anymore though.

I stand up. It's time to be a big boy now and face the emptiness of my apartment. It shouldn't bother me as much as it does. It's not like you had ever moved in with me. Maybe it's the fact that you're no longer a phone call, or a short drive away.

Maybe it's because now, instead of just being alone in my apartment, I'm alone in my life.

My voice sounds hollow as I push her away and stagger to the door. "I'm sorry."

"Never apologize for loving someone", I hear her say fiercely, but I'm already lost in thought.

I'm outside. I look to my feet and notice peculiar details. A small bug in the sidewalk crack. A leaf blowing across my foot. The rock I almost step on. The red roses your mother has planted just beyond her walkway.

I almost fall flat on my face.

Red?

Red?

Red!

"Mrs. Scully!" I scream hysterically.

She rushes out, "What's wrong?"

"Red!" I scream, completely dumbfounded. She doesn't know how to respond. "Are these roses red?" I gesture wildly at the flowers in question.

"Yes, they are", she says, worried. "Do you need to sit down Fox?"

"Mrs. Scully! I'm red-green color blind! Or at least"- I trail off as a sprint back into the house. "The mug is red!" I shout, pointing. "The throw pillow!" I whip around to find that she'd followed me back inside. "Your shirt!" Her eyes were wide with confusion and disbelief.

"Oh my God." My knees give out. I'm kneeling on the floor.

Your hair. Scully, your hair.

Red.

I flash back through my memories. Instead of muddy brown, it's a firey crimson. I suppose I had always known that is was red, but I never acknowledged the implications. I never thought about how you would never truely be yourself to me.

Except now, in my memories.

You had beautiful red hair.

You aren't gone. I will never be alone, because I will always carry the memory of you with me.

Only when your mother reenters the room do I realize she ever left. She holds something out to me. It's a small golden cross on a thin, delicate chain. Your cross. I stand back up.

Silently I take the cross in my hand. I nod, mostly to myself and thank her with an embrace. "She knows", she whispered. I believe her.

I walk out the door once again, feeling... Not quiet peaceful, I still miss you, but less miserable. The red? I know that with the red I will somehow be able to bear this pain. I get in my car and drive to my apartment. At every stop sign and red light I shake my head, in awe.

So much red.

Thank you Scully.

For the last time, you have saved me from myself.

Thank you for everything.