Spoilers: US4 (Unruhe)
Disclaimer: The fictional characters of Dana Scully, Gerry Schnauz, and Fox Mulder belong to 1013 productions, Fox Entertainment and Chris Carter. They are used without permission, but no harm is meant. I'm making no money from this.
Author's Notes: I really liked the character of Gerry Schnauz. He seemed to be a sensitive and caring sould despite his insanity. In my opinion, the actor that played him gave him depth and humanity--even with the wacked out eye thing.

Morning howled from as far as two blocks away, chasing newspaper, and fallen leaves into the center of the city, whipping the grays and yellows and browns of them into a howling funnel of shapes over the final resting place of many, including one Gerry Schnauz.

Dana Scully leaned over the curb and looked down into the shallow pool of stagnant water. Her reflection peered back at her, backed by the liquid's almost black. Below her image she could make out the borders of a pot hole and within that a round mat of weeds submerged roughly in its center. Even the weeds moved with a lazy, aimless motion.

She leaned forward, searching her eyes with restless eyes, searching for signs of unrest.

Another wind came flaring up, blowing leaves and bits of dried flowers from the ranks of grave markers ridging the gentle hill behind her, blowing them into her face and hair.

Dana Scully closed her eyes and relaxed into the moment, allowing the wind to push at her and through her and in her.

She opened her eyes again. The reflection in the puddle shivered. Slips of water shone white around the shivering image of her melting face.

Not unlike the howlers in Schnauz's pictures. They, however, did not scream. The wind did. A leaf which had been floating along in the puddle jumped up and scraped itself on the asphalt.

She closed her eyes.

When she opened them she was staring at a pair of big feet, walking towards her.

Mulder.

"We can catch the 7:30 home, if we leave in fifteen minutes" he said.

"How'd you know I'd be here?"

"I'd a been here."

She looked up at him.

"Well, I followed you." He qualified.

She nodded once reflexively and straightened up.

"See anything?" Mulder asked.

"Nope," Scully replied.

She stepped away from the curb, turned slowly away from him and walked towards the cemetery.

No family members had attended Gery Schnauz's burial. His remains lay near those of his father and sister. Dana Scully walked slowly to Schnauz's tombstone.

Mulder kept pace behind her.

He spoke, "Do you want me to stay back here?"

Scully ignored his question, "Did you ever wonder why cemeteries are so pretty, Mulder?" She walked past him, her shadow reaching Schnauz's grave first.

She squatted. The gradual shift of her weight forced the balls of her slick soled shoes into the soft earth.

She traced the name of Gerry Schnauz with her finger, remembering his finger on her head. She shivered. Her tongue flicked out to whet the corner of her mouth and then she spoke:

"I'm very sorry for what happened. I wish you were alive so that you could get help. I think, I think you were a good man, Mr. Schnauz, just confused, and I'm sorry, I'm sorry, we met this way. I'm sorry for everything." She got out before falling silent.

Mulder watched Scully, for once his attention focused solely on his partner.

She might have been praying.

He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, straining the already thin lining. They ached with cold though his breath stayed invisible in the morning air.

Mulder stepped up to his partner, "You ready, Scully?"

She nodded, then looked up at him, her eyes wide, the muscles around them tense with suppressed tears.

"He wasn't really a monster, Mulder."

"Yah," He agreed.

Tentatively, he placed a hand on her shoulder and squeeezed. She grabbed at him with both of her hands, pulling herself into a his arms, and squeezed back strongly, her arms reaching as far as they around his back. He hugged her back, his hands cramping against the chill bulk of her damp coat.

Leaves swirled behind them, making a tunnel of white, an empty avenue bordered by leaves as if the blind eye of dun and mustard led out of the cemetery and into the waiting world.

"Permission to leave, Uber-agent?" asked Mulder before releasing his hold on her.

Scully nodded.

They parted, and turned back the way they'd come, Scully walking ahead of him, well away from the reach of his guiding hand.

"I'll drive," she said as they got into the car. The leaves swirled in the wake of their departing car, howling silently in the street.

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