I was watching Wetwired and this little piece came to me – I wrote most of it on my phone on my way to and from work. I'm stretching out the timeline just a little bit here so humor me. Characters are obviously not mine. Reviews are most welcome.

Too Soon

It was the longest drive of his life.

From the moment he had received the phone call, time seemed to slow down, finally stopping altogether as he killed the engine at the county morgue parking lot.

The morgue. Otherwise so routine in his line of job, the word now sent a violent chill down his spine. He grabbed the steering wheel until he felt slightly more grounded. Even his hands were shaking, he noticed then. He took a deep breath, then another, forcing himself to calm down. Hastiness wouldn't help in the slightest. He didn't yet know for sure it was her. That was the whole point of him being there.

Only what if it was her? Everything they had been through together, chasing shadows and uncovering conspiracies, only to end up in an insignificant morgue in Nowhere County, Maryland? She was too good an agent to have such pitiful ending.

His cell phone rang, momentarily shaking him out of his reverie. It might be the Gunmen, asking what was going on, or Mrs. Scully, but he couldn't bring himself to pick up. An overwhelming sense of grief washed over him; if he wasn't sitting down he would have been dizzy for sure. He had experienced it before upon finding his father dead on his bathroom floor, upon realizing his sister was not his sister after all. And yet this time... The sensation was different in essence somehow. He felt completely paralyzed by it. This was not how she was supposed to go, not like this. Not yet.

The ringing finally stopped, but the silence that resumed was significantly more piercing. Taking another shaky breath, he was thinking back of their partnership, trying to figure out at which point along the way his feelings towards her had altered so completely. He was so suspicious towards her when she was first assigned as his partner, but then, somehow, she had become the most important person in his life, the only one who really had some sort of hold on him. And knowing that, how could he possibly let her go? What the hell he was going to do now if she's really...

No. It wouldn't be her. It couldn't be her. It was too soon. It was not her time yet.

Only it might be.

God, he would have to tell her mother. The thought of facing Mrs. Scully terrified him. He could already picture her eyes misty with tears she would hold back with all her might. He could barely face her back then, when Scully was taken, and that was early days as far as their acquaintance went. He would never admit it to anyone, but he had a soft spot for Mrs. Scully. She was the only one allowed to refer to him by his first name apart for his own mother, if that was any indication to anything. What was he supposed to tell her? That her daughter, the only one she had left, was dead, possibly by the hand of the same government that had got her older daughter killed?

A gasping sound started him. It was another moment before he realized the sound was coming from deep inside his chest, that he was sobbing. He became aware of the warm tears against his cheeks, drooping into his collar. He laid his head against the steering wheel as he cried, unsure if it was a result of sorrow or desperation. It was easy to sink into it. She wasn't discovered in some hospital, comatose, with the slightest chance of being saved. The very concept of a morgue had a chilling finality to it. There was nothing he could possibly do for her; nothing but hunting down the ones responsible and knowing for the rest of his sorry existence that he had failed her.

But then again, said a voice at the back of his mind, there was more he could do. He shouldn't allow all this negativity to consume him. She once told him she'd had the power of his beliefs, that other time when he was convinced he had lost her. If he so blindly believed she was dead now, then he had already failed her, for there was nothing for her to hold on to. Besides, she couldn't be dead. She was too fiery, too vital. There was so much she still needed to do, so much he still needed to...

He wiped the tears angrily with his sleeve, his eyes burning with new resolve. He had to get a grip. He had to be practical. That what she would have done had the tables been turned and it was her being summoned here to identify his body. He owed her more than sitting here and falling apart.

He grabbed a box of tissues from the glove compartment and cleaned himself up the best he could. He straightened his tie and ran his fingers through his hair. His hand was still shaking, but he paid it no mind now. It was too soon to fall apart. There was no point, not until he knew for sure.

He got out of the car. His legs were unsteady; he held on to the hood of the car for a moment. Then, pushing every grim thought to the very back of his mind, he rushed forward, nearly missing the car that came to a sudden halt right in front of him.

Heartbrokenness shifted into wrath in a matter of seconds as he caught sight of the driver. Despite his fury, a shred of hope sipped in. He was going to get his answers alright, and he now knew where to start. Whether or not it was his partner lying dead in that morgue, this man was responsible for their being on the case in the first place. He would get him answers for her sake. It was the least he could do for her.

He forced her image away from his mind as he clenched his fists and geared himself into battle.