Chris Adams
chris_adams031@yahoo.com
Summary: For seven years Mulder & Scully have searched for the truth. Soon, they'll realize why, and wish they'd never decided to look...
Keywords: Season finale
Distribution / Feedback: Feel free, as long as my name stays on it! Oh, and drop me an e-mail so I can say thanks! And I devour feedback like Tooms devoured livers. Well, that's a proverb waiting to happen.
Archive: Yes please
Author's Note: The world of The X-Files has almost become a reality. Characters with histories, feelings, emotions, fears, preferences, habits and homes appear each week on our screens. These characters are almost real to the millions who watch. Fan fiction is the make-belief within that reality. Where does the reality, between our world, The X-Files, and fanfiction end, and the make believe begin?
What would happen if our world and the world of The X-Files momentarily overlapped?
This story is written in the style of the final episode of The X-Files.
This isn't how I want it to end. In fact, this is one of the worst possibilities.
In this story, I never quite explain exactly what happened. I haven't dared. Not only to prevent the mobs of angry X-Philes turning up at my house and yobbing rocks at my windows, but because that's up to Chris Carter, the god of the world that is The X-Files.
I only write endings that feel right to that particular story. And this ending felt right. I didn't plan to end it like this, it just happened as I typed. In a couple of stories I type something and realize that the story is finished, just like that. Done.
Fanfic only works when you can imagine the characters in the story. When you can see Mulder and Scully saying this dialogue, see Mulder grinning as they joke about the FBI coffee, see Scully walking down that particular path in the snow...
I hope you can.
I hope you enjoy the story, and don't get too annoyed with me :-)
Enough of my random typing, I think we have an office to visit in the basement of the FBI building, Washington...
---
Scully stared at her hazy blue reflection. In front of her, Mulder stared too. The whirr from the innards of the computer continued intent on slowly sending Scully to sleep. She wondered, how, considering the computer they had sounded like a faulty jumbo jet every time it had to perform even the simplest of actions. Here they were, saving the world from monsters and mutants and all they had as thanks was a stone age computer. Perhaps it was the original computer. Sometimes she wondered.
Mulder typed. Scully, behind him, hand propping up her chin, yawned.
"Anything?" she asked.
"Nope. Not a gosh darn thing."
"What's wrong with the good old reference library anyhow?"
"The net's faster, easier..."
"...but you still haven't found anything and you've been typing for half an hour, at least."
"I'm getting somewhere. I know I am. I just have to type in all the variations and try all the search engines. That's all."
"What even makes you think there'll be a website about African insects anyhow?"
"I think you'll be surprised at some of the stuff here Scully."
"Surprised? Moi? Somehow, I doubt that. You don't find this kind of thing incredibly boring Mulder?"
He replied to her question with a sarcastic grin before sighing loudly.
"I guess I would rather be out in the field. I guess all the aliens are busy or something. Special deal on at UFOs-R-Us or something. Want a drink or something Scully?"
"What?"
"I'm going to get a drink? Coffee?"
"Whatever. But not the machine stuff. Ugh. From the counter."
"As you wish, ma'am. Perhaps some caviar and fresh salmon with that too?"
"You're funny, Mulder. Maybe a yoghurt would be nice."
"From the machine or from the counter?!"
"Get outta here before I die laughing. And stay away from any vending machines."
"Ha, ha."
She smiled back at him as he left the office. She got up, stretched, sat back down and sighed. She looked at the screen. "Hmmm."
She swivelled the chair in the right direction. "Can't hurt to try."
She hit a few keys and up popped the familiar shapes of the search engine Mulder frequented.
She grinned like a child in a chocolate factory, as if about to perform some death-defying dare. Stupid, stupid, stupid. When you gonna grow up, stupid? said the smarty-pants I-know-everything Little-Miss-popular little voice in her head. Scully ignored it, and reached for the keyboard.
S C U L L Y she typed in the search box. The cursor flashed.
For some reason her heart pounded with each blink on the screen.
The search engine returned a long list of subjects.
Her heart missed a beat.
Every result, of the ten shown, had her name.
1. DANA KATHERINE SCULLY
Welcome to Scully's Profile Page. Scully joined The X-Files in order to deb...
Scully's mouth opened wider. She shut it as she noticed the faint reflection of herself in the monitor's glare. What did I say, huh? taunted the bitchy little voice. Now, then, won't you be in trouble? She clicked the link.
This time, it wasn't her reflection that looked back at her, but a colour picture. In it, she sat, looking slightly scared, arms crossed in front of a blue background.
"Wha.."
"Special delivery!" Mulder announced in a little tune from behind, like a radio announcer. The two cups of fresh coffee he carried clinked together. "Sorry, your majesty, but they were all out of..."
"Mu..Mulder. Look...at this..."
Mulder sat beside her.
"What? That looks like...you. But with your...old hair. It is, isn't it? You made your own site!! Wow, Scully, I never knew..."
"No, I...it..." she hit the back button on the top of the screen. Mulder saw the list of her name.
"What the hell?" Scully clicked another link and was greeted with nearly thirty small images of herself in various stances and poses. In some, she was with Mulder. The thing was, she never remembered posing for any of them. In some she was seated, some standing, several saw her looking towards a bright light or looking upwards.
What did I tell you? You've done it again, haven't you? Got yourself in another fine mess came from the ditsy, show-off voice in her mind.
"Mulder?" she asked cautiously. She felt like she was about to cry.
Mulder looked a mixture of angry, confused, and like someone had thumped him hard in the stomach.
He swallowed.
"How..."
"It says my name everywhere. And someone else, Gillian...Anderson....who is..? It mentions The X-Files. And you...look."
A list of links graced the bottom of the web page.
THE X-FILES || SCULLY || MULDER || SPOILERS || EPISODES
Mulder reached for the mouse Scully held. She let go, and Mulder hit his name.
A similar page to the last appeared, this time Mulder looked back at nearly fifty mini-Mulders. In some, he looked much younger. In one, he appeared to be dressed in drag. Mulder frowned. He too couldn't remember having any of them taken, although many were deliberately posed for the camera.
They were almost like
(promotional photos)
an advert for something.
In some he stood with Scully, looking up, looking forward, mostly illuminated by a light to the side of them, or above them. Some had an X in the background. Or a file cabinet. They were rarely smiling but more often looked...alarmed.
Mulder clicked a button with EPISODE GUIDE written on it.
Here, his life had seemingly been titled.
SEASON ONE
1. PILOT
2. DEEP THROAT
3. CONDUIT
4. SQUEEZE
"Mulder, these are our first cases." Scully said as she read some of the descriptions beside each title. Mulder withdrew a breath; he had almost forgotten Scully was behind him. He clicked the link labelled PILOT.
"I know. Look." Pictures of Scully, long hair, dressed in a grey tweed jacket and carrying a brown case file, smiling nervously were on the screen now. Another of her sitting in front of a desk, opposite Section Chief Blevins. Her assignation to The X-Files.
A man leaned against a file cabinet amid a cloud of his own cigarette smoke.
She never told me
(he was there)
about her first meeting, Mulder realised.
"Mulder, there was no photographer in that room!" he she wagged a finger at the screen as if to try and prove she was telling the truth. Mulder thought Scully sounded like she was on the verge of tears. Maybe she was.
---
Scully sat, Mulder behind her, staring intently at the screen. Both reading the text. Scully swore she could hear Mulder's heart beating in his chest inches behind her head.
Scully was scared. She had almost learned to deal with being scared but now the feeling returned. Her mind whirred with questions. Why? She didn't know. Perhaps because, oblivious to them, the world knew about her. About Mulder. About The X-Files. Everything. How? Was this some kind of a set up? Must be. Were they the victims of some weird, elaborate joke? Candid camera? Some kind of time warp? Think rationally Scully, she thought. That was what she had been taught to do, after all. Rationally. How could all these people know about her? They couldn't. It was as simple as that. TV, Dana! What if they saw you on TV?! Maybe they've been filming you all the time! What was that movie called Dana? Remember! It was that voice again, the one that sounded so much like her own.
Mulder asked questions too. Why and How. But he also asked what. How much did these people, all these people, whoever they are, know about?
How far do these web sites go back?
Before
(Scully)
The X-Files started? His whole life?
What if the knew about
(Diana)
what happened before Scully arrived?
He tried to dismiss the questions in his mind but couldn't help wonder what he would see after the next mouse click.
SPOILERS - SEASON FINALE Tentative title: "Fiction"
Looks like the usual stunning quality, but an extra special outing for the agents in the finale of the show we all love, although it seems the bad rumours were true...
Written by Carter himself, we join the agents as they sit in their office reading a case file on the computer.
They are sitting in silence.
Mulder and Scully sat in silence, reading the computer screen.
Outside their office, a dark figure emerges from the shadows of a corridor.
Outside their office, a dark figure emerged from the shadows of a corridor.
Oblivious, they continue staring at the screen. What are they reading? We don't see. Scully asks Mulder something, I couldn't quite hear what, but she looks scared.
"What does it mean, Mulder?"
We cut to the figure outside, advancing slowly, almost lurching, down the corridor. He stops. High angle shot - we see his face! It's someone we recognize! A caged light on the wall lights up the side of his face. Camera pans downwards - he has a gun in his hand.
"I don't know...it's like...the whole world knows us. Who we are. What we do..."
"But..!"
M&S are obviously alarmed at what they see on the screen. A case file of some sort? It doesn't say on the script, but judging from their expressions, it's bad.
Cut back to outside. The man is just outside the office.
Outside, the man, dressed in a long black trenchcoat and carrying a 9mm Smith & Wesson handgun, turned his head to see the nameplate on the door.
He looks at the nameplate on the door. Did I see a grin? Couldn't tell. He grips the door handle. The door opens a crack.
Mulder and Scully stared at the screen, it emitting a faint light across their confused faces. A tiny squeak notified them that their door has been opened.
They turned their heads quickly in the direction of the office door and their mouths open in shock at what they see.
The man enters the office, closing the door behind him. Lifts his arm.
"Wha...?" Mulder manages to ask. Scully grips his arm. "No! It can't...It doesn't..."
Shot of the closed door from outside. All we hear is the ringing of a gunshot as the screen fades to black.
That's all I know.
---
It is snowing.
Dana Katherine Scully walks through the snow, black coat wrapped up against the dark blue scarf around her neck.
She sniffs. Cold? Or something else?
The snow is getting thicker as she walks down the long path.
Faintly, oh so faintly, through the sheets of white, dark figures emerge from the ground. Spikes driven from the surface of the earth as reminders of what has gone.
Dana Katherine Scully raises her hand to her eye. And sniffs again.
Snowflakes rest on her tousled hair as she walks, slowly, oh so slowly, along the dark path.
She passes us. We see her eyes, surrounded by red blotches. Cold? Or something else?
The brilliant snow contrasts vividly with her black coat. Like the girl on the Christmas card he once gave her. 1995 it was, although she kept them all. In a shoebox, with the letters from her father. She kept the shoebox in the drawer by her bed. All her important possessions HEY! Remember!! Remember Dana! Or I'll remind you!
Two children and two parents, the children wrapped up warmly, giggling through the soundless snow, throw snowballs at each other playfully. The parents, arms interlinked, smile.
Scully passes. can't help looking. Sniffs again. Cold? Or something else?
Another glance to her left. The dark figures still there. Through the silent, fluffy snow. Reminding her. Tormenting her. They will always be there to remind her, whenever she thinks she has forgotten.
Think you'll forget in time, Dana? Forget it wasn't you? Forget you read it before it happened? That you could have stopped it? Think so, huh? Wrong! I'll make sure of that!! Even if I have to keep on shouting like this forever!! sang the voice in her head. Then it laughed.
The two parents sit on a snow-layered bench in front of a snow-layered holly hedge.
Dana Katherine Scully walks on. And on. Hardly able to see through the continuous snow falling all around her. Her figure fades from black to grey to white in the distance.
Never forgetting, always reminded.
Fade to black.
Cut.
The End
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