A/N: I got most of my insperation for this fic from the song: Set The Fire To The Third Bar by Snow Patrol (and Martha Wainright) It's a great song and I'd suggest you listen to it :) I've put the lyrics at the end, and if you read them you'll probably see where the insperation comes from. I may add some more to this, I don't know yet, but please tell me what you think :D
By the way, I haven't really done more than spell check this, so please point out any mistakes and I'll try and change them :)
Set The Fire To The Third Bar
By kenikigenikai
Her finger dragged slowly across the slightly rough surface of the photograph. It traced their faces, happy and smiling. Open. The sigh that escaped her lips was silent. So were the tears that slipped from her eyes. They continued their noiseless trail down her cheeks before dropping onto the picture. The splash seemed to echo, although logically she knew it was inaudible to her ears. The small pool of water spread slowly across the laminated surface. Another tear rolled down her face, across the line of her jaw, before dropping to join the first, helping to expand its circumference. As the tears began falling faster, the corners of her mouth curled down, suppressing the sob that was aching to get out. The desolate cloud of emotion seemed to lower, like a fog, clouding her mind and senses.
He closed his eyes in a futile attempt to stem the flow of liquid; the photograph was already warped by the amount of tears it had soaked up. He pressed a gentle kiss to it, imagining it was really his partner and son. He could replay the single memory he had of them as a family, the three of them all in Scully's bedroom, hugging as he and Scully shared their first kiss in what felt like months, but was really only months. It felt like he was there all over again, but deep down he knew they weren't there, that it was just his imagination, coupled with the almost overpowering desire to see them again, playing tricks on him. It felt as though he needed to see them, like he would die if he didn't, but on top of all that he knew if he gave in, and just visited them, they would all likely wind up dead.
She didn't realise it was possible to miss someone so much. It was like the loss of a limb. Like the loss of all her limbs. Part of her was missing, that seemed relatively obvious. What was less apparent was the dent this took on her sanity. She had come to depend on him, mentally as well as physically. He was always there, and it was like a huge empty chasm inside of her. Like death but worse, because she knew he was out there somewhere. What she didn't know however, was whether he was cold. Hungry. Tired. In pain. Dead. That was the worst part. The unsurety was better than knowing he was dead though, she couldn't handle hearing that again.
He knew she missed him as much, he knew she was equally as desperate to see him, he knew she knew the risks, and he knew she knew that he knew. This made him feel marginally worse, if that was possible. This would be so much easier if he knew Scully wasn't suffering too. In a selfish minute or two, his jealousy had taken over, and his anger had begun telling him that at least Scully had William, she'd got it easy compared to him, later he hated himself for thinking, or even considering these thoughts. But the severely independent, and distrusting part of him occasionally caught up with him, when he was least expecting it. Scully stopped it, that was one of his favourite parts of her, she made him a better person.
She brushed the tears away. He would be upset to know she was crying, over him, again. Just as she would be to discover he was crying over her too. The same time, the same reason, different places. All they wanted was to be together. She didn't think it was too much to ask after seven years, but yet again a government conspiracy of some kind stood in their way. She just wanted it all to be over. They both had the answers they'd set out for, however much they'd wished they'd been different. They couldn't change them, Samantha was dead. She had been years before Mulder had even started looking. If she was feeling especially pessimistic she could say Melissa had died for nothing, her abduction had had no purpose, Emily's creation and subsequent death was of no use anyone. It was all worthless. This just made her cry harder.
To his knowledge, all of the syndicate members were dead, so there was obviously something very bad going down. Would it be easier to take Scully and William and run? Would it even be possible? Was it worth a try? They would all be happier, he was sure. Scully's family wouldn't be for sure, but could they accept it if they knew it would keep her and baby William safe? If he established contact with her again, there was a possibility they could orchestrate it without being found out. That was his new plan. Take his little family somewhere safe.
But through all the pain she had Mulder, and William, and she wouldn't trade them for anything in the world, because they were her world. Mulder understood her in a way no-one else had ever done before, she was no longer the black sheep in her family, because her family had changed. Her loyalties now fully lay with Mulder. She couldn't care less about what her family thought of him, she loved him, and in all fairness, that was all that mattered.
His fingers danced across the keys, each letter seemingly releasing all the pain and anguish he had bottled up, and allowing it to drain away. As he wrote, he could almost see her reactions, they smirks at the almost dirty remarks, the eyebrow raising at the more endearing comments. He could imagine her playing with William while she read, keeping him entertained instinctually. He couldn't wait to watch them interact, and become part of it. He had already missed so much of his son's life, but he intended to make up for it.
Scully carefully put the picture away, she had lasted seven years, she could last another couple of months. There was no doubt it would be hard, but she could do it. She would have to. Mulder didn't need to come home to find her some sort of emotional wreck. One day, hopefully soon, it would all be fine, and they finally have their happily ever after.
Lyrics:
I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from 'A' to where you'd be
It's only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I'd find your face
My fingers in creases of distant dark places
I hang my coat up in the first bar
There is no peace that I've found so far
The laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science
Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like music to me
I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
I, I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms
After I have travelled so far
We'd set the fire to the third bar
We'd share each other like an island
Until exhausted, close our eyelids
And dreaming, pick up from
The last place we left off
Your soft skin is weeping
A joy you can't keep in
I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
And I, I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms
I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
and I, I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms
