Summary: or Five Times Fox Mulder Fell In Love. A one shot in five parts, with spoilers mainly for season 7 onwards.
Disclaimer: I don't own The X-Files or any of the characters (though I would love to hug all of them) - Chris Carter holds that honour.
A/N: Another Five Times fic, this time for the other fandom that owns my heart. The title is Greek for love, and each part is named after a type of love that the Ancient Greeks identified (I've done my research, trust me.) I'm planning to post one or two of these a week rather than posting them all together, mainly to give myself the time to finish (oops). Spoilers for The End, Dreamland, Amor Fati, season 7 and The Truth. Reviews are much appreciated, I hope you enjoy!
As a side note, this first chapter was incredibly difficult for me to write without committing mass murder. I hope most people sympathise.
Agapi
I: Eros
eros (έρως): A love founded on physical longing, tremendous passion and sexual desire. The intensity of this love can be dangerous as it impairs judgements and leads to dependency on the other.
The first time, he will come to realise, wasn't love.
But at the time he had never fallen in love before, and he didn't know what it entailed. He didn't know that love is not a desperate need for someone, anyone, to fill the hole left by your absent family, not a lie you tell yourself so that you can pretend that nothing's wrong. Love is deeper than an instinctive, primal need for passion and lust and fulfilment, and love should probably be reciprocal.
(But he doesn't come to realise that until later.)
(And that's another story for another time.)
So, for all intents and purposes, the first time Fox Mulder falls in love it is with an intelligent, attractive and perceptive fellow FBI agent called Diana Fowley, who, in a way, will be the starting point for the whole journey yet to come.
Finding the X-Files with her in the basement was like a gift, a blessing in more ways than one. There in the basement, Mulder (but no, he's not Mulder yet, he's still Fox) spends countless hours reading a re-reading the hundreds of identical brown folders, searching for any clue as to what happened to Samantha that night, and finding things that only prompt more questions.
And he's not alone- Diana is there with him, asking more, searching deeper, finishing his own ideas before he's even finished thinking them. In many ways, Diana becomes a counterpart, the only person who truly believes him, as much of his new life as the X-Files themselves. He cannot separate her from them, and as such he falls in love with her as he falls in love with the basement, or what it represents.
Safety, acceptance, knowledge… and the truth.
So yes, he falls in love with her, and she pretends to fall in love with him.
There are days spent flirting in the basement, evenings spent drinking some expensive brand of wine at her apartment, nights spent in a heated fever where he is driven half-mad and giddy with desire. While it lasts, Fox never pauses to consider the future, or how long this can continue. He doesn't do that until it's too late, when she comes into their office and tells him she's leaving. Permanently. Going to Africa to investigate terrorists, or something along those lines. Fox honestly can't remember hearing the rest of her explanation.
His first thought is that some external force are taking her away from him- the FBI know what's down here, and are stopping them from continuing their work together. But she tells him it's not like that, this is her decision. It's nothing personal.
(I'm sorry, Fox.)
He didn't believe her to begin with, but she left almost before he was aware it would happen. He can't remember saying a proper goodbye. He didn't even see her off at the airport. He was surprised by how quickly he could adjust to life without her by his side. It was as if that betrayal had always been inevitable, and his heart was already prepared to cope with it.
In time, he will come to forget how much it hurt, and how much he blames her. But even when she reappears so suddenly into his life, he does not give her what she wants. An admission that he's missed her. A teasing half grin or wink. He does not give her his blind adoration, but fights against it with all he can.
(The second stab of betrayal, when she takes partial ownership of the cases that have dominated his life so entirely, is the pain of losing both her and the truth. Again.)
He learns, after the screaming voices in his brain and the journey through an alternate life are just half-forgotten dreams to his damaged mind, that Diana may have saved him. Not only saved his life, but given hers in exchange. He expects the knowledge to burn like acid through his heart, the way he remembers it happening in that other reality, but there is nothing.
Sadness, regret, maybe a little guilt, but no soul-crushing grief.
(He knows who his real saviour is.)
