1 Summary: Mulder does some thinking about his deepest wishes
2
Spoilers: TrustNo1, Existence, several others, but it's only bits and pieces of them.
3 Rating: G
Disclaimer: I've checked the mirror many times-I'm not Chris Carter, so I guess that means that the x-files and all the people in it belong to him and ten-thirteen productions, not me.
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The snow fell around him in the park, furthering his isolation. He knew he shouldn't be wide out in the open like this, anyone could find him, but the cold crisp air and the muted sounds gave him a chance to clear his muddled head.
Some birds were pecking through the blanket of white on the ground, searching for the slightest hint of something edible. He could relate. Searching was his life. He was consumed by it. If he had some sunflower seeds with him, he would have given them to the birds. He would have been their hope-giving them just enough to survive, to live for. Like them he needed hope also. Unlike the birds though, he, didn't have a real home to go to at the end of the day. He didn't have their nest. No place that felt warm and safe, protected from the dangers and secrets that lurked around the next corner. He was alone and separated, with no one that he could turn to without putting them in the peril that he lived with everyday now.
A couple walked by hand-in-hand several feet in front of him. He watched them disappear into the veil of snow, out of sight. A pang of loneliness hit him. He turned to look at the empty stretch of bench that was being slowly enveloped by the snow. He knew who should be sitting there now, who he wanted to talk to, in person. Emails weren't enough, but meeting was too risky. Just seeing her flaming red hair right now would bring him hope, strength, just as it had before when he saw her out the train window.
He glanced at the tree to the side of him. There was a single leaf that fluttered down to the ground. It was the one bit of color in the dull glare of snow that was the world. It reminded him again of her. She was the bright color in the center of his life. Yet it also reminded him of his son and how he came to be. She had been bare, and frozen by the fact of it, and then that small miracle had come. Like the leaf, the boy was also a bright light in the middle of a blizzard of confusion.
He dwelled on the thought of the child. He could imagine taking care of him and all the joys that would come with it. Watching him take his first steps, speak his first words, his first day of school, seeing him grow up, along with all the other bits of happiness that come out of being a parent. There was that barrier stopping him though, the people that made his life feel like a game of hide and seek in hell. They were like the cars that drove by in the distance, beyond the park. The snow hid them, but you could still hear them. They didn't show themselves, but they were there, proving it from time to time.
He looked again at the birds. They had found a large spread of seeds beneath the snow and were now diving at it with a new, fresh hope. A hope of making it through the storm, of surviving. A spark of hope blossomed in him also. There was always hope. He would make it through the storm.
2
Spoilers: TrustNo1, Existence, several others, but it's only bits and pieces of them.
3 Rating: G
Disclaimer: I've checked the mirror many times-I'm not Chris Carter, so I guess that means that the x-files and all the people in it belong to him and ten-thirteen productions, not me.
############################################################################ ###############################
The snow fell around him in the park, furthering his isolation. He knew he shouldn't be wide out in the open like this, anyone could find him, but the cold crisp air and the muted sounds gave him a chance to clear his muddled head.
Some birds were pecking through the blanket of white on the ground, searching for the slightest hint of something edible. He could relate. Searching was his life. He was consumed by it. If he had some sunflower seeds with him, he would have given them to the birds. He would have been their hope-giving them just enough to survive, to live for. Like them he needed hope also. Unlike the birds though, he, didn't have a real home to go to at the end of the day. He didn't have their nest. No place that felt warm and safe, protected from the dangers and secrets that lurked around the next corner. He was alone and separated, with no one that he could turn to without putting them in the peril that he lived with everyday now.
A couple walked by hand-in-hand several feet in front of him. He watched them disappear into the veil of snow, out of sight. A pang of loneliness hit him. He turned to look at the empty stretch of bench that was being slowly enveloped by the snow. He knew who should be sitting there now, who he wanted to talk to, in person. Emails weren't enough, but meeting was too risky. Just seeing her flaming red hair right now would bring him hope, strength, just as it had before when he saw her out the train window.
He glanced at the tree to the side of him. There was a single leaf that fluttered down to the ground. It was the one bit of color in the dull glare of snow that was the world. It reminded him again of her. She was the bright color in the center of his life. Yet it also reminded him of his son and how he came to be. She had been bare, and frozen by the fact of it, and then that small miracle had come. Like the leaf, the boy was also a bright light in the middle of a blizzard of confusion.
He dwelled on the thought of the child. He could imagine taking care of him and all the joys that would come with it. Watching him take his first steps, speak his first words, his first day of school, seeing him grow up, along with all the other bits of happiness that come out of being a parent. There was that barrier stopping him though, the people that made his life feel like a game of hide and seek in hell. They were like the cars that drove by in the distance, beyond the park. The snow hid them, but you could still hear them. They didn't show themselves, but they were there, proving it from time to time.
He looked again at the birds. They had found a large spread of seeds beneath the snow and were now diving at it with a new, fresh hope. A hope of making it through the storm, of surviving. A spark of hope blossomed in him also. There was always hope. He would make it through the storm.