Don't Let Me Go
Summary: "Blinking back tears, she sends up another prayer that he returns to her, to them…"
Author's Note: X-Files is what introduced me to fanfic way back in 2002, so I am forever grateful! I have been re-watching the entire series from the beginning because I received the Ultimate Collector's Box-Set for Christmas and have been quite inspired! This is just a little vignette/drabble looking at Scully's POV during Mulder's abduction/death in Season 8. It's my first X-Files fic, so I'm kind of nervous to post, hope you enjoy! Oh, also, I listened to The Fray's Never Say Never when I was writing, it's a beautiful song, you should listen!
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully do not belong to me and they never will...sadness…
She stares up, eyes wide and unblinking. Gazing up at the stars, she feels so tiny, a speck in the vast, unending universe. Somehow it is a comfort to think that he too is somewhere out there, he is a speck up in that inky sky. She wraps her arms around herself and her unborn child. Blinking back tears, she sends up another prayer that he returns to her, to them.
She can feel it, a sharp and searing pain in her chest, her heart shattering as she weeps over his tortured body. Her sobs are loud in the oppressive silence. Nobody moves, nobody knows what to say. Later on she stands alone with his cold body and she cries, whispering all the words she could never say and now never will. She leaves her soul beside him in the ground, it's always belonged to him and he will keep it safe.
She dreams of his kisses on her skin, lips pressed against the curve of her shoulder in the early morning light. She wakes with tears slipping down her face and the stinging burn of his phantom touch. Her hands stroke her belly as she attempts to calm her racing heart and the baby quickening within her. She wishes, and not for the first time, that it could be his hands gently soothing their child, his voice singing a whispered lullaby.
She stares around his apartment, everything looks the same yet irrevocably different. The ache of missing him threatens to overwhelm her and she has to bite her lip to keep from screaming his name or breaking down in anguish. Even though she doesn't want to, she can't help but wonder what kind of God brings them together only to tear them apart?
She almost doesn't answer the phone, she is exhausted and weary. The child within her is restless tonight and keeping her awake with his kicking and turning. She very much wants to ignore the ringing and close her eyes, but her hand reaches out anyway.
The drive to the hospital is a blur, she knows she's speeding and she might have put her shirt on inside out but it doesn't matter. It echoes in her head, a constant chant as the car races down the nearly empty streets- alive, alive, alive, alive.
They don't try to stop her as she pushes past them, desperate to see him breathing for herself. For the men who have seen her spirit crushed with grief and despair, the hope shining in her eyes is a blessing. She reaches a trembling hand to his chest, sobbing with relief at the rhythm of air moving in and out.
She waits faithfully by his side, one hand absentmindedly rubbing against the swell of their child in her womb, the other traces circles against his palm. She is impatient for his eyes to open. Hasn't she waited long enough? Time seems to move so slow, the minutes have been hours, the months like years. His fingers move and her heart stops. She holds her breath as his eyelashes flutter and his eyes open.
Her world, the one that stopped the day they found him lying in that field, begins to spin again and this time when she sobs against his chest, they are tears of joy, tears of hope, tears of love…