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Summary: V, G - Scully waits and wonders...
The Waitingby Sheryl Martin
She was going to kill him.
No, that would be too quick. She was going to slowly torture him until he died an agonising death. This time. Like last time.
Dana Scully blinked.
Of course, that was if he wasn't dead already.
She stared at the phone, wishing it would ring.
So she could yell at him. So she could listen to his wild explanation about why he did what he did; thoughts and theories. So she could snap back at him with her own thoughts and theories; based in fact and science.
So he would come back.
She stared at the phone again; reminding herself about the watched pot never boiling and all that crap. Finally she stretched out on the couch, one hand inches from the receiver as she closed her eyes and let her mind wander.
The shadows grew in the small room; lengthening across the floor and creeping over her as she lay on the sofa. And as she dozed on and off in a troubled state of half-sleep, the same questions raced through her mind; invading the quiet space of silence.
Why did she keep on doing this?
Putting her career; her life on the line for this man. Making sure that she would be followed for the rest of her life, forever intertwined with Fox Mulder and the X Files. Sure of never attaining any high position in or out of the Bureau with the stain of her past in full view like a Scarlet Letter on her chest; declaring her loyalty to one man. And the truth he sought.
Why?
Her lips moved in twilight dreams; answering her own question.
Because she had to. She had to follow him and support him; stand by when she hadn't the nerve to go that far and wait for him to return; and to pick up the pieces when he came back from those far places, broken and worn down from the battle.
And to wait.
Wondering if one day there would be another voice on the phone; official and sad with the details of her partner's demise.
It had almost happened already.
Her sleepy mind spun with the fear of that phone call; reminding her of the last time she had thought him dead. Ripping open the old scars and letting the emotions run rampant through her dim nightmares, of truly being alone in a world where she could tell no one of what she knew or had seen. And the truth came to her in a dream; telling her why she did what she did and what held the two of them together...
The phone rang.
Sitting upright with a jolt, she stared at it in a stupor. The dream disappeared in a rush of adrenalin and of shock.
It rang again; demanding and shrill.
Closing her eyes, she picked it up; unaware that she was holding her breath.
She listened.
And smiled.
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ÒThe bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each otherÕs life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.ÓRichard Bach -- ÒIllusionsÓ