RAIN
Fox Mulder entered the graveyard, nodding a brief greeting to the other people milling aimlessly about. He walked with bold strides, heading to a place he had never been, but one he would often return to.
Stopping at the sight of an ivory marker, a delicate stone angel perched atop it, he slipped over the low fence and looked at the gravestone more closely.
"Dana Katherine Scully," he whispered, reading the inscription aloud. "An angel undercover." The last part suddenly escaped him, though it was not written down. He mouthed the final words, words he did not see chiseled there, but wished he did: "My angel."
Mulder bent down, and placed a single red rose on the grass, beneath which his partner's body lay in eternal repose and silence. Gently reaching out to brush some moss from the headstone, he sighed and rocked back on his heels, staring at the grave wordlessly.
Narrowing his eyes, he looked up at the cloudy November sky, then back down. "Oh, Dana," he murmured, running his fingers over the headstone, tracing over the head of the praying marble angel. "I thought you said you would be waiting."
He reached into his canvas bag and pulled out the black silk robe. Folding it deftly, he let it slip to the emerald carpet, pressing it firmly against the jade grass. "You will come back, won't you?"
There was no response. Shrugging, Mulder sighed, having not really expecting any.
A voice whispered in his ear, a few words from a song-he didn't remember where he had heard it-
"...And when the rain comes down..."
Fox Mulder looked up. It had started to drizzle slightly.
Fox Mulder entered the graveyard, nodding a brief greeting to the other people milling aimlessly about. He walked with bold strides, heading to a place he had never been, but one he would often return to.
Stopping at the sight of an ivory marker, a delicate stone angel perched atop it, he slipped over the low fence and looked at the gravestone more closely.
"Dana Katherine Scully," he whispered, reading the inscription aloud. "An angel undercover." The last part suddenly escaped him, though it was not written down. He mouthed the final words, words he did not see chiseled there, but wished he did: "My angel."
Mulder bent down, and placed a single red rose on the grass, beneath which his partner's body lay in eternal repose and silence. Gently reaching out to brush some moss from the headstone, he sighed and rocked back on his heels, staring at the grave wordlessly.
Narrowing his eyes, he looked up at the cloudy November sky, then back down. "Oh, Dana," he murmured, running his fingers over the headstone, tracing over the head of the praying marble angel. "I thought you said you would be waiting."
He reached into his canvas bag and pulled out the black silk robe. Folding it deftly, he let it slip to the emerald carpet, pressing it firmly against the jade grass. "You will come back, won't you?"
There was no response. Shrugging, Mulder sighed, having not really expecting any.
A voice whispered in his ear, a few words from a song-he didn't remember where he had heard it-
"...And when the rain comes down..."
Fox Mulder looked up. It had started to drizzle slightly.
