TITLE: Back To One
AUTHOR: Samantha Leigh Star_Tracer@hotmail.com
SUMMARY: Based on (sort of) Brian McKnight's (I THINK that's his name)
"Back To One" video.. Hence the title.. Yeah, I know, not much of a summary
if you're not into the pop music scene, but just read it.. =D
RATING: PG-13?
DISCLAIMER: They ain't mine, but I'm going to blatantly disregard copyright
laws and say they are anyway. Please don't hurt me, Chris Carter.
SPOILERS: None. but that episode where Mulder's mother died (what the hell
was the name of it? I'm so awful with episode names) didn't happen, k?
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Listen up, kiddies, this is what comes from not paying
attention in classes (mostly math and Environmental Science - which I won't
need anyway, so.). Also, I'd just like to say that I wrote this story many
moons ago (as you may be able to tell by the inspiration), and I just
recently found it. Given September's events, I was hesitant to type it up
and even more reluctant to post it. But I decided that life must go on. I
mean NO DISRESPECT by this story whatsoever. I live in New York and was
touched by this tragedy as well. This story is intended, as all of my
fanfic is, to entertain. I understand if you don't want to read this now,
or possibly ever, but I felt that by not posting I was allowing the
terrorists to win (not to sound cliché, of course). I hope that you and all
your loved ones are safe and sound and I pray (in a purely non-
denominational way) for those actively affected by 9/11. I would also like
to dedicate this story to all those who perished in New York, Washington
and Pennsylvania. May you not have gone in vain. Thanks for listening to my
ramblings.
Here we go. hope you enjoy the ride.. **** Dana Scully lay alone in her bed, wishing that her partner Fox Mulder was with her. But he was in Southern New York, about an hour away from a connecting flight that would land him back in her arms.
She rolled over, wishing that she could call him, but a couple of days ago, he had been attacked by some slimy beast and was waiting for his replacement cell phone.
Almost on cue, her bedside phone trilled and she scooped it up before it finished its first ring.
"Hello?"
"Scully." Came the answer.
She could barely keep the smile off her face. "Mulder. I miss you."
"I miss you too, babe. How are you?"
"Fine. I'll be much better when you get home though."
There was a sigh from the other end of the line. "That's the thing, Scully. I may not make my flight."
"Why not?"
"I have a ton of paperwork to finish up." She could almost hear his sheepish grin through the line. "It's a bitch when you're not here to do it."
She sighed and sat up. "Is there anything I can do?"
"No, just some stuff I need to sign, ya know, for my cell, and then the usual stuff. I'll be fine, I just didn't want you to worry."
"I'll let you get to it then. See you soon."
"Hopefully." There was a slight pause and then a whisper: "Love you."
She grinned. "Love you more."
"We'll see about that."
"Not if you don't make your flight." She laughed.
"Alright, I get it. I'll go try and finish up. Love ya."
"You, too." Gingerly she set down the phone. It was going to be a much longer night than she had anticipated. **** This time Scully answered the phone on the second ring. "'Lo?"
"Scully."
"Mulder? What's wrong?"
"Nothing.took some..phone.pretty mad about. going to make.. -"
"Mulder, I can't hear you!"
".rry. conn.ions bad."
"Mulder?"
".ing to make.. ight. home.."
"Mulder!"
".ve you."
"I love you, too."
".ye."
Scully hung up the phone. Suddenly, the night seemed a little less long. **** About a half-hour later, Scully was still awake. Finally she turned on the all news channel, hoping the newscaster's monotonous drone would bore her to sleep. She was finally dozing off when an "emergency news situation" woke her.
A flight from New York to Washington had crashed.
She was instantly and fully awake, the newscaster's voice no longer boring in the least.
".Flight 1121 from New York to Washington has crashed on the border of.."
Scully's eyes flew to the notepad on her night table, containing Mulder's flight information.
Flight 1121 was scrawled across the pad in Mulder's messy handwriting.
"Oh my God." Scully's hands flew to her mouth and she knew if she moved them she would start screaming and not stop. "Oh God, no."
One of her hands found the phone and dialed her mother's number.
"Hello?" came the groggy voice after three rings.
"Mommy?" Scully's voice cracked.
"Dana?! What's wrong, honey?"
".Mulder."
"Fox?" Margaret was fully awake now. "What happened, Dana?"
The tears were beginning to fall. "His plane. his goddamned flight."
"Dana, what's going on?!"
"Channel one.. It's on TV.. Oh God."
"WHAT'S on TV?"
But Dana was sobbing openly, now and couldn't answer her.
Margaret switched on the news and caught the tail end of the story that was so upsetting her daughter.
".Again, Flight 1121 from New York to Washington has gone down. Death count is, as of now, not confirmed. Officials are not expecting any survivors. Family and friends who suspect their loved one may have been on this flight can call the number at the bottom of the screen."
"Dana." Margaret's voice quavered. "Was that Fox's flight?" it wasn't a question.
"Yes!" Dana wailed. "Oh God, Mommy, he's dead, he's dead. Oh my God."
"I'm on my way, sweetie." **** Margaret let herself into Dana's apartment, quietly. "Dana?" she called out. "Honey?" there was no answer and Margaret listened carefully and, hearing sobbing from Dana's bedroom, made her way there.
"Oh, Dana." Seeing her youngest daughter weeping uncontrollably broke Margaret's heart even more than the news that had brought her here and she lowered herself to the bed, placing a comforting arm around Dana.
"He's dead, Mommy. Oh God, he's dead."
"Dana," Margaret started. "We don't know that, maybe he didn't make the flight, maybe the flight information is wrong, maybe."
"No!" she wailed. "No, it was his flight and he made it, he CALLED me. he. " her protestations dissolved once more into tears.
There was nothing more for Margaret to do but hold her daughter while she grieved. **** Scully rolled over in bed and groaned. She was too old for these late nights. Opening her eyes to glance at the clock she gasped and sat upright. It was 10.13! Mulder's flight was due in over an hour ago, what was she doing in bed? She shoved the covers off and stood, heading for the bathroom, but she stopped about halfway there when it hit her with such a force that she had to grab onto the dresser to keep upright.
Mulder's flight wasn't coming in. It had gone down. He was dead. He was gone.
Oh God.
She felt the stinging of tears behind her nose, but they didn't come. She had cried herself out last night. Now she had to be strong. She forced herself to stand up. Grabbing a robe, she made her way to the kitchen. She had to keep a level head. There were things to be done, people to notify, plans to be made. She rounded the corner to the kitchen and found her mother sitting there, sipping coffee.
"Hi Mom." Her voice was much weaker than she had intended.
"How are you feeling, honey?" Margaret rose and strode to the counter to pour her daughter a cup of coffee.
Scully felt a momentary flash of completely inane anger. What was her mother thinking? How did she feel? How did Margaret THINK she felt? She had had a piece of her ripped away violently and without notice. How did she FEEL?
But as quickly as it came, it passed and she sank into a kitchen chair. Scully wasn't angry at her mother. She was mad at the airline, or the pilot, or fate, or whoever's fault it was that Mulder was never coming home.
At that thought, Dana buried her head in her hands. Mulder wasn't coming home. She wasn't strong enough to do this.
"Dana, it's going to be alright." Margaret placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Alright? Nothing will ever be alright! Mulder's dead. How can anything be alright again?"
"Trust me, Dana. It hurts, I know it does, but it WILL get better. One day at a time."
Scully flew up out of the chair. "No. Don't give me that pacifying bullSHIT. I LOVED him and he's dead."
"Dana." Margaret's voice was sharp and it halted Dana halfway to the hall. "It's not bullshit. I know what I'm talking about, Dana."
Scully closed her eyes. "Mom, I'm sorry, it's just that." she closed her eyes and blew a breath out, to steady herself. "I need to make arrangements. There are people I need to notify. I can't talk right now."
"Dana." but she had disappeared down the hall. **** Scully was alone in the apartment, her mother having gone to buy groceries. She was seated at her desk, knowing what she had to do, but unable to do it. She had a list in front of her of the people she needed to notify.
Mulder's mother.
The Gunmen: Frohike, Langly, Byers.
Skinner and the FBI.
The list seemed woefully inadequate.
Mulder was such a wonderful person and no one realized it. No one had cared. And now they would never get the chance.
Scully reached for the phone for the fifth time, but her hand dropped halfway there once again. She couldn't do this. Her anguish was a palpable pain. She couldn't draw a full breath. But she HAD to do this. She reached once again for the phone and, this time, picked it up.
The Gunmen would be the easiest. She could talk to Byers. She could do it. She had to. She dialed the number from memory and it rang once and she slammed the phone down. Immediately chagrined, she reached for it once again, but it rang before she could touch it and she picked it up and replaced it, knowing it was the Gunmen, having retrieved her number from their caller ID. She looked at the phone for what seemed a very long time, then picked up the receiver and placed it on the desk.
She couldn't deal with this right now. She strode purposefully back into her room, climbed into bed and pulled the covers over her head. **** An hour later, Scully was still alone, and under the covers. She buried herself deeper under the comforter and screwed her eyes shut. What she wouldn't give to go back and keep that plane safely in the sky. Or, she selfishly thought, to have Mulder missed the plane. She would prefer his being a couple of hours late, to his being only identifiable by his dental records and perhaps a couple of fingerprints.
God. She missed him so much. She wished he was there so much that she could almost hear him, smell him, that unique Mulder scent that was his alone and she would never smell again.
She wondered if it had hurt, if he had been scared. She wondered if his last thought had been of her. She wondered what it had been like. Had there been turbulence? Had there been a warning? Had the pilot come onto the intercom and assured them that they would make it home okay, that they would see their loved ones again?
She could almost see it. Mulder would be sitting alone, as it was a late flight, there probably hadn't been that many passengers. He had probably flirted with the flight attendant, as he always did. Had he realized it was the end? Maybe he had been reading, perhaps going over case files, or thinking of her. He had probably been listening to the CD player she had gotten him last Christmas, snacking on his stupid, messy sunflower seeds and sipping his favorite: orange soda. She smiled sadly, she had always teased him that orange soda was for kids.
Had the oxygen masks come down? Had there been fire, smoke? Had he tried to help comfort his fellow passengers? Had he been alone at the end? Or was there someone he had talked to during the flight, someone to hold his hand as the plane crashed down through the night sky?
God she hoped he hadn't been alone. That had been one of his biggest fears: dying alone.
She turned her face into the pillow and started sobbing openly.
They had had plans, goddamnit, plans! They were going to do the whole domestic thing: kids and a dog and a Plymouth Voyager. Baking cookies and first steps and soccer games and ballet recitals and all that family stuff. How dare he leave her alone?
Through her crying she heard a key in the door and sat up quickly, wiping the tears from her face. Her mom was home.
"Mom?" she called.
There was an answer but she didn't hear it and she got out of bed, knowing that her mom probably needed help with the groceries. She rubbed at her eyes furiously and, blinking away tears, she made her way down the hall. About halfway down, she looked up, at the front door and stopped in shock.
She wasn't seeing what she thought she was seeing. It wasn't possible. She was seeing things. There was no way that what she thought was at the front door was at the front door. She was afraid to speak, for fear the vision would vanish and she would, once again be left alone.
The vision spoke first. "Scully?"
And she knew. She didn't know how, she didn't know why, but she knew. It was real, and she was whole again. ******
Sorry, for the rather anti-climatic ending(?), but I just couldn't kill him off. I love him too much. Anyway. I hope you guys like this (I can't imagine why you wouldn't . after all, *I* wrote it =D). I love feedback. By the way, in case you care, the song I had on repeat while I wrote this was "I Will Be Your Friend" by Coco Lee. Just so you know. =D Comments? Questions? Mulder in Saran Wrap? Star_Tracer@hotmail.com "Noooo.. not my tie!!! Eeet gives me pooower!!"
Here we go. hope you enjoy the ride.. **** Dana Scully lay alone in her bed, wishing that her partner Fox Mulder was with her. But he was in Southern New York, about an hour away from a connecting flight that would land him back in her arms.
She rolled over, wishing that she could call him, but a couple of days ago, he had been attacked by some slimy beast and was waiting for his replacement cell phone.
Almost on cue, her bedside phone trilled and she scooped it up before it finished its first ring.
"Hello?"
"Scully." Came the answer.
She could barely keep the smile off her face. "Mulder. I miss you."
"I miss you too, babe. How are you?"
"Fine. I'll be much better when you get home though."
There was a sigh from the other end of the line. "That's the thing, Scully. I may not make my flight."
"Why not?"
"I have a ton of paperwork to finish up." She could almost hear his sheepish grin through the line. "It's a bitch when you're not here to do it."
She sighed and sat up. "Is there anything I can do?"
"No, just some stuff I need to sign, ya know, for my cell, and then the usual stuff. I'll be fine, I just didn't want you to worry."
"I'll let you get to it then. See you soon."
"Hopefully." There was a slight pause and then a whisper: "Love you."
She grinned. "Love you more."
"We'll see about that."
"Not if you don't make your flight." She laughed.
"Alright, I get it. I'll go try and finish up. Love ya."
"You, too." Gingerly she set down the phone. It was going to be a much longer night than she had anticipated. **** This time Scully answered the phone on the second ring. "'Lo?"
"Scully."
"Mulder? What's wrong?"
"Nothing.took some..phone.pretty mad about. going to make.. -"
"Mulder, I can't hear you!"
".rry. conn.ions bad."
"Mulder?"
".ing to make.. ight. home.."
"Mulder!"
".ve you."
"I love you, too."
".ye."
Scully hung up the phone. Suddenly, the night seemed a little less long. **** About a half-hour later, Scully was still awake. Finally she turned on the all news channel, hoping the newscaster's monotonous drone would bore her to sleep. She was finally dozing off when an "emergency news situation" woke her.
A flight from New York to Washington had crashed.
She was instantly and fully awake, the newscaster's voice no longer boring in the least.
".Flight 1121 from New York to Washington has crashed on the border of.."
Scully's eyes flew to the notepad on her night table, containing Mulder's flight information.
Flight 1121 was scrawled across the pad in Mulder's messy handwriting.
"Oh my God." Scully's hands flew to her mouth and she knew if she moved them she would start screaming and not stop. "Oh God, no."
One of her hands found the phone and dialed her mother's number.
"Hello?" came the groggy voice after three rings.
"Mommy?" Scully's voice cracked.
"Dana?! What's wrong, honey?"
".Mulder."
"Fox?" Margaret was fully awake now. "What happened, Dana?"
The tears were beginning to fall. "His plane. his goddamned flight."
"Dana, what's going on?!"
"Channel one.. It's on TV.. Oh God."
"WHAT'S on TV?"
But Dana was sobbing openly, now and couldn't answer her.
Margaret switched on the news and caught the tail end of the story that was so upsetting her daughter.
".Again, Flight 1121 from New York to Washington has gone down. Death count is, as of now, not confirmed. Officials are not expecting any survivors. Family and friends who suspect their loved one may have been on this flight can call the number at the bottom of the screen."
"Dana." Margaret's voice quavered. "Was that Fox's flight?" it wasn't a question.
"Yes!" Dana wailed. "Oh God, Mommy, he's dead, he's dead. Oh my God."
"I'm on my way, sweetie." **** Margaret let herself into Dana's apartment, quietly. "Dana?" she called out. "Honey?" there was no answer and Margaret listened carefully and, hearing sobbing from Dana's bedroom, made her way there.
"Oh, Dana." Seeing her youngest daughter weeping uncontrollably broke Margaret's heart even more than the news that had brought her here and she lowered herself to the bed, placing a comforting arm around Dana.
"He's dead, Mommy. Oh God, he's dead."
"Dana," Margaret started. "We don't know that, maybe he didn't make the flight, maybe the flight information is wrong, maybe."
"No!" she wailed. "No, it was his flight and he made it, he CALLED me. he. " her protestations dissolved once more into tears.
There was nothing more for Margaret to do but hold her daughter while she grieved. **** Scully rolled over in bed and groaned. She was too old for these late nights. Opening her eyes to glance at the clock she gasped and sat upright. It was 10.13! Mulder's flight was due in over an hour ago, what was she doing in bed? She shoved the covers off and stood, heading for the bathroom, but she stopped about halfway there when it hit her with such a force that she had to grab onto the dresser to keep upright.
Mulder's flight wasn't coming in. It had gone down. He was dead. He was gone.
Oh God.
She felt the stinging of tears behind her nose, but they didn't come. She had cried herself out last night. Now she had to be strong. She forced herself to stand up. Grabbing a robe, she made her way to the kitchen. She had to keep a level head. There were things to be done, people to notify, plans to be made. She rounded the corner to the kitchen and found her mother sitting there, sipping coffee.
"Hi Mom." Her voice was much weaker than she had intended.
"How are you feeling, honey?" Margaret rose and strode to the counter to pour her daughter a cup of coffee.
Scully felt a momentary flash of completely inane anger. What was her mother thinking? How did she feel? How did Margaret THINK she felt? She had had a piece of her ripped away violently and without notice. How did she FEEL?
But as quickly as it came, it passed and she sank into a kitchen chair. Scully wasn't angry at her mother. She was mad at the airline, or the pilot, or fate, or whoever's fault it was that Mulder was never coming home.
At that thought, Dana buried her head in her hands. Mulder wasn't coming home. She wasn't strong enough to do this.
"Dana, it's going to be alright." Margaret placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Alright? Nothing will ever be alright! Mulder's dead. How can anything be alright again?"
"Trust me, Dana. It hurts, I know it does, but it WILL get better. One day at a time."
Scully flew up out of the chair. "No. Don't give me that pacifying bullSHIT. I LOVED him and he's dead."
"Dana." Margaret's voice was sharp and it halted Dana halfway to the hall. "It's not bullshit. I know what I'm talking about, Dana."
Scully closed her eyes. "Mom, I'm sorry, it's just that." she closed her eyes and blew a breath out, to steady herself. "I need to make arrangements. There are people I need to notify. I can't talk right now."
"Dana." but she had disappeared down the hall. **** Scully was alone in the apartment, her mother having gone to buy groceries. She was seated at her desk, knowing what she had to do, but unable to do it. She had a list in front of her of the people she needed to notify.
Mulder's mother.
The Gunmen: Frohike, Langly, Byers.
Skinner and the FBI.
The list seemed woefully inadequate.
Mulder was such a wonderful person and no one realized it. No one had cared. And now they would never get the chance.
Scully reached for the phone for the fifth time, but her hand dropped halfway there once again. She couldn't do this. Her anguish was a palpable pain. She couldn't draw a full breath. But she HAD to do this. She reached once again for the phone and, this time, picked it up.
The Gunmen would be the easiest. She could talk to Byers. She could do it. She had to. She dialed the number from memory and it rang once and she slammed the phone down. Immediately chagrined, she reached for it once again, but it rang before she could touch it and she picked it up and replaced it, knowing it was the Gunmen, having retrieved her number from their caller ID. She looked at the phone for what seemed a very long time, then picked up the receiver and placed it on the desk.
She couldn't deal with this right now. She strode purposefully back into her room, climbed into bed and pulled the covers over her head. **** An hour later, Scully was still alone, and under the covers. She buried herself deeper under the comforter and screwed her eyes shut. What she wouldn't give to go back and keep that plane safely in the sky. Or, she selfishly thought, to have Mulder missed the plane. She would prefer his being a couple of hours late, to his being only identifiable by his dental records and perhaps a couple of fingerprints.
God. She missed him so much. She wished he was there so much that she could almost hear him, smell him, that unique Mulder scent that was his alone and she would never smell again.
She wondered if it had hurt, if he had been scared. She wondered if his last thought had been of her. She wondered what it had been like. Had there been turbulence? Had there been a warning? Had the pilot come onto the intercom and assured them that they would make it home okay, that they would see their loved ones again?
She could almost see it. Mulder would be sitting alone, as it was a late flight, there probably hadn't been that many passengers. He had probably flirted with the flight attendant, as he always did. Had he realized it was the end? Maybe he had been reading, perhaps going over case files, or thinking of her. He had probably been listening to the CD player she had gotten him last Christmas, snacking on his stupid, messy sunflower seeds and sipping his favorite: orange soda. She smiled sadly, she had always teased him that orange soda was for kids.
Had the oxygen masks come down? Had there been fire, smoke? Had he tried to help comfort his fellow passengers? Had he been alone at the end? Or was there someone he had talked to during the flight, someone to hold his hand as the plane crashed down through the night sky?
God she hoped he hadn't been alone. That had been one of his biggest fears: dying alone.
She turned her face into the pillow and started sobbing openly.
They had had plans, goddamnit, plans! They were going to do the whole domestic thing: kids and a dog and a Plymouth Voyager. Baking cookies and first steps and soccer games and ballet recitals and all that family stuff. How dare he leave her alone?
Through her crying she heard a key in the door and sat up quickly, wiping the tears from her face. Her mom was home.
"Mom?" she called.
There was an answer but she didn't hear it and she got out of bed, knowing that her mom probably needed help with the groceries. She rubbed at her eyes furiously and, blinking away tears, she made her way down the hall. About halfway down, she looked up, at the front door and stopped in shock.
She wasn't seeing what she thought she was seeing. It wasn't possible. She was seeing things. There was no way that what she thought was at the front door was at the front door. She was afraid to speak, for fear the vision would vanish and she would, once again be left alone.
The vision spoke first. "Scully?"
And she knew. She didn't know how, she didn't know why, but she knew. It was real, and she was whole again. ******
Sorry, for the rather anti-climatic ending(?), but I just couldn't kill him off. I love him too much. Anyway. I hope you guys like this (I can't imagine why you wouldn't . after all, *I* wrote it =D). I love feedback. By the way, in case you care, the song I had on repeat while I wrote this was "I Will Be Your Friend" by Coco Lee. Just so you know. =D Comments? Questions? Mulder in Saran Wrap? Star_Tracer@hotmail.com "Noooo.. not my tie!!! Eeet gives me pooower!!"