Title: A Journey's End
Author: Dana E. Vassy
Rating: PG
Category: Mulder POV, mytharc, hinted MSR
Spoilers: Anything is fair game up to season 6. Closure
has happened, Requiem has not.
Disclaimer: Sometimes, I just have to interfere. My
good friend Chris understands this. Therefore, 1013 and
Fox, let me meddle for a few pages, and all will be
returned, relatively unharmed. (The way these characters
are treated normally, I doubt a few more bruises would
make much difference)
Feedback: This is where you pucker up and hit the reply
key. It's scullys_no_slut@viceprez.fsnet.co.uk thank you
very much.
Distribution: Just tell me where...
Authors Notes at the end.
The streetlight cast an eerie glow into the otherwise
dark living room. The dull leather of the couch was
swathed in its cold light; the dark mass of the desk
decorated by the occasional metallic glimmer. A gentle
hiss of rainfall pattered against the smeared window
pane. It made a fitting accompaniment to the almost
silent breathing that punctuated the stillness of the
room.
Fox Mulder stared at nothing in particular as he let the
chaotic thoughts collide inside his head. Images of pain
he had repressed for so long, interspersed with a montage
of happy memories. Worst of all was the battle raging
between his pride and the deadening sense of failure,
constricting his chest until it felt certain to implode.
And then he just let it all go.
The fear, the dread and the anxiety abated. A rare
moment of clarity existed in their place. It was over,
nothing more to say or do.
But as quickly as it had diminished, the depression once
again cast its spell. The day he had assumed would
never arrive was upon him. No deal, nor any act of mercy
would change this harsh reality.
In 1973, on an otherwise nondescript November evening,
Mulder's life had been changed forever. How he hated to
stray into that hyperbole, but it had been perhaps the
single most defining moment of his existence. That night
of the twenty-seventh, the child,Fox Mulder had lost a
sister. Thus emerged, the too-soon adult Mulder who had
gained a lifelong quest. How much had changed in those
precious few minutes. A timespan that had multiplied
into too many years of folly and regret.
And so, for twenty-seven years, he had made his goal to
uncover the truth about extraterrestrials, hoping to find
his sister in the process. Not once had he believed she
was dead, not until he was presented with the final
evidence of sorts. Rejected by, and untrusting of his
parents, Mulder had learned to live without love. He
trusted no one, and valued each casual affair as much as
his latest video acquisition. To him, they were fun, but
always dispensable. On the rare occasions he had let his
guard down, he had been left with yet another gaping
emotional wound. So with time, those defences had been
fortified, so as to be practically impenetrable.
Mulder had always thought his dedication would get him
anywhere, but that belief had weakened through time. He
enjoyed the liberty of taking risks, justifying it with
the mantra that he had nothing left to lose. Yes, he
lost the respect of countless superiors and peers - good
men who gave up on his brilliance, because they couldn't
entertain the unconventional package came in. Besides,
it was easier to play the martyr if you could point out
all the people turned against you. Show off the
obstacles as an excuse for not reaching the finish line.
Dwell on what might be, instead of what there is not.
That had never been clear before, hidden behind the mask
of nobility. Bloodlust tends to blind a man to his
greater failings. Then, he had never felt pig-headed: it
was steely determination. He could wail about injustice
as often as he liked - it only enhanced his martyrdom.
Mulder had ignored the fallacy of his single-mindedness.
Anyone could, as long as they had the will to fight.
And that was what had ground Mulder's crusade to a halt.
The desire to go on banging his head against a brick wall
had faded. It was corroded by the numerous blows to his
pride. And it was more than that: he no longer wanted to
live in a world without love. Two, ten and twenty years
ago he had been inspired. Now?
Well, he had found his sister, after a fashion. Nothing
to do with the aliens. The men he had blamed, who had
caused him so much pain, were more elusive than ever.
The same men who had impeded his progress at every turn,
and treated him like nothing more than a preferred pawn
in their game. How it sickened him to know the
atrocities they had condoned, yet never be able to bring
them to justice. And that had finally laid his
inspiration to rest. He was too old, too saddened, and
too tired to resist any longer.
Mulder had dropped the torch, let somebody else pick it
up and keep running.
Daylight began to make its weak entrance through the dark
Alexandria skyline. The long night was over.
But Fox Mulder's life, like this day, was dawning afresh.
It was time to leave behind the regrets and the pain, and
find a new direction. And he had never been more certain
as to what that direction was.
One person, for eight years, had been the purest contrast
to all that was malignant and wrong in his life. One
person could be trusted enough for him to surrender the
barricades around his heart. He knew now that she loved
him, she had told him not twelve hours ago. But they
both knew he couldn't give her the devotion she deserved,
not while he carried so many deadweight emotions.d
Now that he realised the journey of crisis and
destrcution was at its end, he could embark on a far
happier course. No more bitter isolation, just blissful
companionship. With Dana Scully, Mulder could at last
enviasge a pleasurable and more normal situation. It was
only from this new state that he saw how much he wanted
that life. Truly content for the first time since
Samantha's abduction, he headed off to tell the most
important person in his life the most important news.
The empty apartment slowly filled with early morning
sunshine. As it did, one small photograph formed a
natural centrepiece on the newly illuminated desk. Those
carefree smiles, peculiar to children, symbolised times
of greater peace and laughter. Finally, times like those
were about to reoccur in the rollercoaster life of one
Fox William Mulder.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Authors Notes
* * * * * * * * * * *
I thought I might plan a series from this - sort of
suburbian Mulder and Scully. But I don't know if it will
work without the X-Filish content - what do you think?
This piece was inpsired by the song 'Gethsemane' from
Jesus Christ Superstar. "Then, I was inspired / Now, I'm
sad and tired." I just thought the Mulder/Christ
comparison could have a new twist. One where he decides
to take the other path, putting happiness before duty.
The photograph at the end is the one of Mulder and
Samantha we frequently see. The abduction dates are
taken from the One Son video. I'm not saying I want
Mulder to give up, just that he could make that choice,
and turn out happier.
Author: Dana E. Vassy
Rating: PG
Category: Mulder POV, mytharc, hinted MSR
Spoilers: Anything is fair game up to season 6. Closure
has happened, Requiem has not.
Disclaimer: Sometimes, I just have to interfere. My
good friend Chris understands this. Therefore, 1013 and
Fox, let me meddle for a few pages, and all will be
returned, relatively unharmed. (The way these characters
are treated normally, I doubt a few more bruises would
make much difference)
Feedback: This is where you pucker up and hit the reply
key. It's scullys_no_slut@viceprez.fsnet.co.uk thank you
very much.
Distribution: Just tell me where...
Authors Notes at the end.
The streetlight cast an eerie glow into the otherwise
dark living room. The dull leather of the couch was
swathed in its cold light; the dark mass of the desk
decorated by the occasional metallic glimmer. A gentle
hiss of rainfall pattered against the smeared window
pane. It made a fitting accompaniment to the almost
silent breathing that punctuated the stillness of the
room.
Fox Mulder stared at nothing in particular as he let the
chaotic thoughts collide inside his head. Images of pain
he had repressed for so long, interspersed with a montage
of happy memories. Worst of all was the battle raging
between his pride and the deadening sense of failure,
constricting his chest until it felt certain to implode.
And then he just let it all go.
The fear, the dread and the anxiety abated. A rare
moment of clarity existed in their place. It was over,
nothing more to say or do.
But as quickly as it had diminished, the depression once
again cast its spell. The day he had assumed would
never arrive was upon him. No deal, nor any act of mercy
would change this harsh reality.
In 1973, on an otherwise nondescript November evening,
Mulder's life had been changed forever. How he hated to
stray into that hyperbole, but it had been perhaps the
single most defining moment of his existence. That night
of the twenty-seventh, the child,Fox Mulder had lost a
sister. Thus emerged, the too-soon adult Mulder who had
gained a lifelong quest. How much had changed in those
precious few minutes. A timespan that had multiplied
into too many years of folly and regret.
And so, for twenty-seven years, he had made his goal to
uncover the truth about extraterrestrials, hoping to find
his sister in the process. Not once had he believed she
was dead, not until he was presented with the final
evidence of sorts. Rejected by, and untrusting of his
parents, Mulder had learned to live without love. He
trusted no one, and valued each casual affair as much as
his latest video acquisition. To him, they were fun, but
always dispensable. On the rare occasions he had let his
guard down, he had been left with yet another gaping
emotional wound. So with time, those defences had been
fortified, so as to be practically impenetrable.
Mulder had always thought his dedication would get him
anywhere, but that belief had weakened through time. He
enjoyed the liberty of taking risks, justifying it with
the mantra that he had nothing left to lose. Yes, he
lost the respect of countless superiors and peers - good
men who gave up on his brilliance, because they couldn't
entertain the unconventional package came in. Besides,
it was easier to play the martyr if you could point out
all the people turned against you. Show off the
obstacles as an excuse for not reaching the finish line.
Dwell on what might be, instead of what there is not.
That had never been clear before, hidden behind the mask
of nobility. Bloodlust tends to blind a man to his
greater failings. Then, he had never felt pig-headed: it
was steely determination. He could wail about injustice
as often as he liked - it only enhanced his martyrdom.
Mulder had ignored the fallacy of his single-mindedness.
Anyone could, as long as they had the will to fight.
And that was what had ground Mulder's crusade to a halt.
The desire to go on banging his head against a brick wall
had faded. It was corroded by the numerous blows to his
pride. And it was more than that: he no longer wanted to
live in a world without love. Two, ten and twenty years
ago he had been inspired. Now?
Well, he had found his sister, after a fashion. Nothing
to do with the aliens. The men he had blamed, who had
caused him so much pain, were more elusive than ever.
The same men who had impeded his progress at every turn,
and treated him like nothing more than a preferred pawn
in their game. How it sickened him to know the
atrocities they had condoned, yet never be able to bring
them to justice. And that had finally laid his
inspiration to rest. He was too old, too saddened, and
too tired to resist any longer.
Mulder had dropped the torch, let somebody else pick it
up and keep running.
Daylight began to make its weak entrance through the dark
Alexandria skyline. The long night was over.
But Fox Mulder's life, like this day, was dawning afresh.
It was time to leave behind the regrets and the pain, and
find a new direction. And he had never been more certain
as to what that direction was.
One person, for eight years, had been the purest contrast
to all that was malignant and wrong in his life. One
person could be trusted enough for him to surrender the
barricades around his heart. He knew now that she loved
him, she had told him not twelve hours ago. But they
both knew he couldn't give her the devotion she deserved,
not while he carried so many deadweight emotions.d
Now that he realised the journey of crisis and
destrcution was at its end, he could embark on a far
happier course. No more bitter isolation, just blissful
companionship. With Dana Scully, Mulder could at last
enviasge a pleasurable and more normal situation. It was
only from this new state that he saw how much he wanted
that life. Truly content for the first time since
Samantha's abduction, he headed off to tell the most
important person in his life the most important news.
The empty apartment slowly filled with early morning
sunshine. As it did, one small photograph formed a
natural centrepiece on the newly illuminated desk. Those
carefree smiles, peculiar to children, symbolised times
of greater peace and laughter. Finally, times like those
were about to reoccur in the rollercoaster life of one
Fox William Mulder.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Authors Notes
* * * * * * * * * * *
I thought I might plan a series from this - sort of
suburbian Mulder and Scully. But I don't know if it will
work without the X-Filish content - what do you think?
This piece was inpsired by the song 'Gethsemane' from
Jesus Christ Superstar. "Then, I was inspired / Now, I'm
sad and tired." I just thought the Mulder/Christ
comparison could have a new twist. One where he decides
to take the other path, putting happiness before duty.
The photograph at the end is the one of Mulder and
Samantha we frequently see. The abduction dates are
taken from the One Son video. I'm not saying I want
Mulder to give up, just that he could make that choice,
and turn out happier.