A life in pieces
It felt like the world around her was cracked and any little thing could send it shattering. No one else saw it, nor did they care. She was her own atlas, left alone to hold up her own minor world.
She thinks of herself in pieces, Dana before and Scully after.
Dana before the basement office, before the mysteries and the ones who always seemed to chose her to target before the oil and bees and conspiracies and vaccines that Dana was alive in a way she no longer thought she was
back when the toughest decision on her mind was what shoes to wear that day when the cases didn't make her jump at shadows and nightmares were a rarity, those days friends were just friends and coffee was just coffee
It's hard to think of before it was to faraway and to long ago filled with things unsaid and undone.
Scully, after being assigned to Mulder and The X-Files, that Scully who never realized how simple her life had been up to that point. The X-Files had given her plenty of heartache true but it also gave her adventure and purpose and a friend who would go to the ends of the earth for her,
They'd found a soul mate in each other, they were, are in love. they'd played by the rules for so long that they sometimes lost sight of each other but it was never long before he found his way back to her and she to him, their love had given her a precious gift,
She misses them both and she tries not to think or wish for them though it hurts her heart to do neither. She catches herself wishing all the same, though she can never quite decide if she would change anything,
To knock on the door or not is her plight.
_(X)_
Its three-oh-seven-am when she sleepily looks at the clock, she shrugs into a robe and makes it all the way into the kitchen before reality catches up with her.
She can't quite catch her breath as she stumbles back to her room, perched at the end of her bed she tells herself in a firm, stern voice, that it was a dream, there is no baby so how could she have heard him crying.
She doesn't get any sleep that night and try as she might she can't quite stop thinking of the validity of an X-File, were people reported hearing their children or loved ones cries of distress, from miles and sometimes continents away.
"It was just a dream" is her refrain through the night, though it doesn't keep the doubt from whispering in her ear. "It was just a dream. Just a dream."
_(X)_
The TV is never off these days and she wonders how she ever thought silence could be relaxing or comforting.
she thinks she should take a break for once and leaves the papers on her desk, she sinks into the couch and tries to focus on the endless stream of media running across the screen and for a moment her over taxed brain slows and she smirks at an obscene ad for an upcoming sci-fi movie "Sharktopus" she starts to turn "Don't even suggest it M..."
She's off the couch faster then she can process the thought, the remote is shaking in her hands or is it hands that are shaking? she's not sure she cares, all the same she moves to the comfy chair and pulls her knees to her chest, as she studies the new program "Math and its Complexities" she decides she doesn't much like the couch, it's much too big.
_(X)_
It's easier to go back to work then she thought, she thinks she's doing well but then again she'd always been one to focus on facts and logic, to work in the here and now.
When they ask she tells them she's "fine" in the way people who aren't say "fine". Her smiles start seconds later than they normally would. She knows she should laugh at the small jokes they make, she even thinks their funny, but the action is lost on her. She tries not to think about the last time she laughed, the gurglely smiles that accompanied her are painful, so she smiles and hope that's enough for her friends.
Her eyes never focus on anyone for too long. She finds herself losing minutes and it scares her, one minute she's talking about theories and conjecture and the next she's telling them she's fine, "just thinking" but about what she doesn't remember.
She doesn't see the looks of concern that pass between her friends like a game of hot potato; they know she's not as fine as she claims.
_(X)_
She's numb most of the time and she worries not because she feels numb but because she's not concerned that she doesn't feel anything. She wonders if she should talk to someone.
John maybe, he would understand more than anyone how she feels, maybe from him she could stand to hear what she can't from others, but when he walks in that morning she loses her nerve. She finds herself studying him instead.
he dismisses their outlandish ides with a skepticism she use to have, his enthusiasm is not unlike her own when she started, she finds it easy to trust him though she's extra careful to keep pieces of herself tucked away, she's not a open book anymore, they'll only be one person who can read her.
_(X)_
Johns not an overtly open person but she notices the way he talks more freely with Monica then herself, she's not jealous but maybe a little envious. The small smiles they share, the easy way he rest a hand on her arm or her hand on his shoulder.
The way his hand use to rest ever so lightly on her back as he lead her from a room. after the first week at work she had deduced that physical contact was inherent with him, not every touch had an ulterior motive behind it she had grown accustom to his ways, even longing for the familiar touch of his hands when she was unsettled by a case.
Her heart skips a beat and she hears her name being called, when she looks up John's eyes are filled with concern before he can speak and undoubtedly say something to break through her fragile wall, she smiles and shakes her head. "I don't think I get what you mean Monica can you explain?" Monica looks confused she didn't think the other was paying attention, her eyes flick to John briefly before elaborating on her idea. She doesn't recognize the lie hidden in the simple catch all sentence. Dana decides it's not safe to let her mind wonder, she won't talk to john after all.
_(X)_
It's a bad night; it's been a bad day all together.
The TV is on along with a radio but neither helps. she's cleaned and re-cleaned, organized and reorganized its kept her busy, only focusing on the task at hand, that black stain on the bathroom wall is finally gone and her music and books are arranged to perfection.
She thinks if she cleans one more thing she'll go crazy but she's afraid of what's lurking in the back of her mind. She circles the apartment. Once: maybe she'll read or go over her paper work again. Twice: or rearrange the furniture or repaint the kitchen…
With a weary sigh that comes from the bottom of her soul she apprehensively heads down the hall, when she opens the door it's with mixed feelings of sadness, regret, happiness and anticipation. The room is empty now, though she recalls long hours spent at various stores shopping for the perfect items to welcome a baby home with.
she can feel them in this room, like ghost their presents linger here, as freighted as she feels she steps into the room, she's too tired to back out now, she reluctantly admits to herself that maybe she needs this, whatever this is, delusions she says in a whisper, she whispers because she wants them all the same, whatever they are.
She moves to the window seat, the glass is cool when she leans her back against it, the steady drumming from the evening rain seems to pulse throughout her body, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
The smell of baby power is thick enough to taste and when she opens her eyes she's no longer in the present, the dark and dusty room she walked into is bright with the morning light and William is snuggled contently against his father's chest.
Mulder looks up at her and the wonderment and aw in his eyes makes her chest light with happiness; he kisses her good morning and asks if she slept well and if she's gotten enough rest. She assures him she's fine and in this moment she truly is. His eyes are relived but he admits he would have woken her if William fussed "I'm not equipped to handle the needs of a hungry baby" he tells her with a smirk. he makes her laugh and William does his happy gurgle, as she takes Williams tiny body into her arms Mulder pulls them both into his embrace and he leads them into a small slow dance before kissing his son, her eyes close as his lips move slowly with hers, neither of them are in a hurry, they have all the time in the world.
She opens her eyes to a silent, empty, dark room and desperately clutches her knees to her chest she makes no effort to stop the tears and each sob pulls at her chest making the gnawing emptiness ever greater.
Dana wonders how long she can last like this before everything becomes too much to bare and she's like this room, empty with only ghost to keep her company.
_(X)_
Ok first I own nothing, nothing but the story itself, mine hands off oh and please no re posting my story.
Revised! (If only a bit) I don't know what to do with the beginning, I had it perfect, lost it and this is my failed attempt at the rewrite oh well ill just keep working.
Well here it is started and finished in one day, I know the grammar punctuation is horrible but I've given up on getting it perfect long ago. I wrought it in a piecemeal fashion, rearranged the paragraphs an so forth. I do think it need a little bit more but of what I don't know, like I said I'm not caught up on much so I'm hoping the characters are not too far off from fact, but as it is I like it, I can always go back an fix it later.
Sharkopus is real people! I swear I laughed for a half hour when I saw it Sharktopus haha!
iv recently rediscovered the series and slowly going crazy with the fact that there is very little on it anymore so I'm saving up to by the DVDs fan fiction is keeping me occupied for now thus the inspiration.
I will say that I think I gleamed this…style…flow of how the story is written from another author but I can't for the life of me find the person or story, whoever you are thank you for inspiring me. (And before everybody and their brother starts messaging me I know it's not in x-files fanfic that limits it to the only other fanfic I do read.)
Ok thanks for reading and reviewing if you do, I think I've got one more idea floating around my brain, I tell you obsession is never good, ill post (obviously) if I get anywhere on it.
By for now.
Illyria