Mulder took one last glance at his locked bathroom door before picking up his knife, and examining it. Several scars littered his hips from when he was much younger, the result of an ever-present ache in his chest. Taking his knife, he pressed and dragged it along his hip, cutting deep into his skin, causing blood started to leak down his leg. It helps, he told himself, that this caused the pain to feel real, validated, he wasn't alone in this, and that it wasn't all in his head. Mulder knew better, that he needed help, and that this relief wouldn't last. Yet, he cut into his skin several more times, while tears began to well in his eyes. Followed by a soft sob, and the knife dropping to the floor, he allowed the sadness to overcome him, soon following the knife's place on the floor. Soon, he told himself, soon it will all be over.