Title : The Trap
Author: Claire
E-mail : spookyeldarion@club-internet.fr
Rating: PG-13
Classification: Angst/Action
Spoilers: None than I can think of
Summary: Mulder tells Scully what happened to him after a disastrous bank robbery. Lot of
Angst.
Disclaimer : Not mine, go ask CC if you want them...
Author's Note: My first attempt at writing a long story... I already know what I would like to
write and how the story will evolve, but all your possible remarks and comments will change
my point of view. The rating (PG-13) doesn't have to be taken in consideration yet... I'll
warn you when it'll get bloody... ;)
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I woke up with a start, still frightened from the nightmare I'd just had. I know I'm
gonna be alright though, and I smile despite the terrible screams that I can still hear ringing in
my ears; because the very person who terrified me in my sleep with those yells is right next to
me, his arms lazily wrapped around me.
I can feel warmth radiating from him; I can touch his hand, gently resting on my hip; I can
hear him babbling funny incoherencies in his sleep; and I can still taste him on my lips.
I feel free. It's been two weeks now, and for the first time since he came back, I have the
impression that all the things we've been through, especially him, will stop hurting us.
His scars and bruises will always remind us of what took place, and I know we'll still cry
about it sometimes but now, the time has come when we have to live. I need it, and Mulder
needs it, more than anything else in the world.
As I watch him sleep, and witness that all worry has escaped from his face along with the dark
bruises on his cheeks, eyelids and neck; I wonder if it really happened: if he really suffered,
cried, ached, screamed and prayed for death to take him in that room.
But his words are rooted in my mind forever, and they will never let me go, just as I will
never let him go: not after that, never.
I remember when he wouldn't talk about it, I really felt for sometime that I would never
know, that he would never tell me and that he was lost to me forever. I begged, I cried, I bent
on my knees for him to confide in me.
He finally did, but he needed time. Time to clear his mind, time to take a deep breath, and to
realize that he was indeed not dead; even if I know he wished he was during those five
horrible days.
Sometimes, I just have to stop myself from thinking about what happened: it's unbearably
painful. It makes me want to yell at God's face, for the evil he unleashed, the evil embodied
by those men.
Those men. If I ever find you I'll make you scream, as loud as Mulder did. But beware if he
finds you first: you wouldn't have time to utter a single word.
He still can't sleep on his back, that's why he's facing me.
When he told me everything, he was even closer than that, holding my head in his hands:
because he knew I would crumble, and I did. I felt my own heart stopping, my own mind
almost breaking the thin line of sanity, my own soul dying.
But he was there, drying my eyes from burning tears, while his were almost drowned in a pool
of love, mixed with compassion and pain.
I was the one crying and suffering...whereas he had to live it. I felt miserable because of my
behaviour, but he understood, and he was there right along with me.
Every single word he said in his deep, no longer broken voice, had the power of thousands of
needles in my heart, although the only thing I could think about was how to get any closer to
him.
"I love you Scully..." he said first "...and because of that, or maybe thanks to that, I know
that you want me to tell you everything. I wish I didn't have to, but not telling you would be
like living a lie. I can't lie to you - just as I can't just erase all that from my mind, from my
eidetic memory. I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to crush your soul, but what I'm
about to tell you is going to be hard. Harder for you than for me, because I've already been
through it all: I simply lived and then plainly told it to all the people who needed to know it. I
don't know if you need to know it, and perhaps you'll think I'm selfish, but what I do know is
that I need you to know it."
He then paused, and looked deep into my eyes, searching for a kind of answer. I nodded,
trying to imagine the worst he could possibly tell me: it was worse even than that in the end.
He smiled sadly, understanding that I had asked him to carry on, and started: "It all began
with the three letters...
TO BE CONTINUED
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
So?????? You wanna know what those mysterious three letters are?? And what exactly
happened to Mulder?? Well, you'll discover it in the next chapters, that I'm writing as fast as
possible!!!!!!!!
All reviews are welcomed!!
Author: Claire
E-mail : spookyeldarion@club-internet.fr
Rating: PG-13
Classification: Angst/Action
Spoilers: None than I can think of
Summary: Mulder tells Scully what happened to him after a disastrous bank robbery. Lot of
Angst.
Disclaimer : Not mine, go ask CC if you want them...
Author's Note: My first attempt at writing a long story... I already know what I would like to
write and how the story will evolve, but all your possible remarks and comments will change
my point of view. The rating (PG-13) doesn't have to be taken in consideration yet... I'll
warn you when it'll get bloody... ;)
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I woke up with a start, still frightened from the nightmare I'd just had. I know I'm
gonna be alright though, and I smile despite the terrible screams that I can still hear ringing in
my ears; because the very person who terrified me in my sleep with those yells is right next to
me, his arms lazily wrapped around me.
I can feel warmth radiating from him; I can touch his hand, gently resting on my hip; I can
hear him babbling funny incoherencies in his sleep; and I can still taste him on my lips.
I feel free. It's been two weeks now, and for the first time since he came back, I have the
impression that all the things we've been through, especially him, will stop hurting us.
His scars and bruises will always remind us of what took place, and I know we'll still cry
about it sometimes but now, the time has come when we have to live. I need it, and Mulder
needs it, more than anything else in the world.
As I watch him sleep, and witness that all worry has escaped from his face along with the dark
bruises on his cheeks, eyelids and neck; I wonder if it really happened: if he really suffered,
cried, ached, screamed and prayed for death to take him in that room.
But his words are rooted in my mind forever, and they will never let me go, just as I will
never let him go: not after that, never.
I remember when he wouldn't talk about it, I really felt for sometime that I would never
know, that he would never tell me and that he was lost to me forever. I begged, I cried, I bent
on my knees for him to confide in me.
He finally did, but he needed time. Time to clear his mind, time to take a deep breath, and to
realize that he was indeed not dead; even if I know he wished he was during those five
horrible days.
Sometimes, I just have to stop myself from thinking about what happened: it's unbearably
painful. It makes me want to yell at God's face, for the evil he unleashed, the evil embodied
by those men.
Those men. If I ever find you I'll make you scream, as loud as Mulder did. But beware if he
finds you first: you wouldn't have time to utter a single word.
He still can't sleep on his back, that's why he's facing me.
When he told me everything, he was even closer than that, holding my head in his hands:
because he knew I would crumble, and I did. I felt my own heart stopping, my own mind
almost breaking the thin line of sanity, my own soul dying.
But he was there, drying my eyes from burning tears, while his were almost drowned in a pool
of love, mixed with compassion and pain.
I was the one crying and suffering...whereas he had to live it. I felt miserable because of my
behaviour, but he understood, and he was there right along with me.
Every single word he said in his deep, no longer broken voice, had the power of thousands of
needles in my heart, although the only thing I could think about was how to get any closer to
him.
"I love you Scully..." he said first "...and because of that, or maybe thanks to that, I know
that you want me to tell you everything. I wish I didn't have to, but not telling you would be
like living a lie. I can't lie to you - just as I can't just erase all that from my mind, from my
eidetic memory. I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to crush your soul, but what I'm
about to tell you is going to be hard. Harder for you than for me, because I've already been
through it all: I simply lived and then plainly told it to all the people who needed to know it. I
don't know if you need to know it, and perhaps you'll think I'm selfish, but what I do know is
that I need you to know it."
He then paused, and looked deep into my eyes, searching for a kind of answer. I nodded,
trying to imagine the worst he could possibly tell me: it was worse even than that in the end.
He smiled sadly, understanding that I had asked him to carry on, and started: "It all began
with the three letters...
TO BE CONTINUED
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
So?????? You wanna know what those mysterious three letters are?? And what exactly
happened to Mulder?? Well, you'll discover it in the next chapters, that I'm writing as fast as
possible!!!!!!!!
All reviews are welcomed!!