From: darkstar Date: February 12, 1998 11:34 PM EST Subject: Mulder angst

Title: Cold Truth Author: Lord Vader Spoilers: A slight spoiler of the Pilot, and of Triangle but nothing else. Rating: PG-13 for disturbing imagery. Definitely not for the shy sensitive type. Classification: Vignette, Mulder angst of a dark sort Keyword: Vignette, Angst

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they belong to CC and Fox Productions (may the force be with them)

Summary: Mulder chases memories of Scully.

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"They sent you here to spy on me, didn't they ?" Those were his first words to her, he mused. "I must have sounded so....paranoid." No, Mulder decided. Paranoid didn't quite make it. More like stupid. He was in a contemplative mood tonight. Probably had to do with the pills he had taken. Or the amount of them anyway. "I wish I hadn't said that. I wonder what she thought of me ? Probably thought I was an idiot. I wish had said something better. Anything. Something like hi, or are you my new partner ? Anything but an accusations." Hi head hurt trying to think of the perfect thing to have said. And so many memories. A host of them flooded Mulder's mind. Some were good; some not so hot. He remembered losing her. That one hurt a lot. He remembered the overwhelming sadness of losing something, and not realizing how you loved it, until it was gone. He recalled wondering if there had been something he could have done to prevent her abduction. Then the sweet memory came of regaining what had been thought lost forever. The joy of reunion with that which he so desperately needed. Then holding her when it seemed that he return had just been a cruel twist of fate meant to taunt. But the lightning chose to strike in the same place twice. Scully wouldn't die after all. Oh the tired relief and joy he had felt. And then it had happened again. What had he, and she, done to deserve such awful luck ? "God, why do you hate me ?" He wondered aloud. His heart throbbed with the memory of the almost-kiss outside his apartment; the sinking feeling as she went limp in his arms. She had been taken away from him again ! Would it ever end ? Around her he could relax, could smile, knowing that she would be there if he needed someone. She was gone again. And that was all he could think until he had gotten her back. This time he hadn't waited on God or anyone else. He had gotten her back himself. Rest had come, complete with the knowledge that he had saved her; that she was his again. He slept like a baby on that frozen plain with her warm body beside him. And then, back to reality, back to work. The kiss on the ship with her in a past life. He had told her he loved her when he returned to *his* time, but she had just laughed. Maybe she remembered; maybe she didn't. But that didn't matter. He loved her. And that was all he could remember after that. He *loved* her. What had happened after that was all a blank. He wished with every fiber of his soul that he knew if they had been married, or if she had been able to have his children. Why couldn't he remember ? Did They keep him from knowing ? Or did he keep himself ? "I WANT TO KNOW !" he screamed, the emotion pouring with the tears down his face. "I want to know...." he whispered, softer than the rattle of dry leaves. "I want to know.... I want to know.....I want to know........" The door opened. For a handful of heartbeats he thought it was her. Then he saw the person standing in his doorway. No trouble remembering this person. Judas. Betrayer. Krychek. A myriad of curse words flooded his mind, so that he couldn't decided which one to use and was silent. Krychek stood, watching the dim light from the hall flood the nearly pitch black apartment. His eyes shone with something close to pity at the man he had once upon a time both feared and respected. Now, nothing was left but an empty rotting shell that wore the skin and face of Fox Mulder. Sad. He looked at the objects in the lunatic's hands. One dirty, bony fist clenched a small golden cross. And the other object.....Krychek shook his head sadly. The other object held at eye level in a Hamlet-style pose..... Was a skull. With little tufts of bright copper hair. Sad. Cold. The truth had caught up with Mulder.

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