When You're Too Tired to Dream
Rose G
Disclaimer - All characters are the property of Chris Carter and I am making no money from using them.
A/N - This is my first ever attempt at X-Files fiction; I was too young to see the first showings in the UK, and I am now trying to catch up by viewing out of sequence third repeats at unearthly hours and reading the novels. Any errors are mine alone, but obviously, this is an alternate storyline for Mulder.
I'm tired - so very, very tired. If I slept right now, it would be that deep sleep of exhaustion without dreams. Only I'm not going to sleep - I'm leaving, to a place where there are no dreams. Ever. No past - no future. A place where I can sleep and not wake covered in cold sweat.
No hopes of finding the truth; yesterday, I found out as much truth as I ever wanted to know. No dreams of finding Sammy - she's better off where she is now. I'm too tired to carry on fighting, hoping, living.
I've chosen to leave in my office for a reason. It's my home. I'm peaceful, safe here. Scully's picked up her phone; I can hear her soft breathing and somehow, she knows that it's me calling her.
'Mulder? What do you want?'
That's something that I'm going to miss, if I'm conscious of missing anything. 'I want you to see something, now.' I drop the phone and glance around my haven. I yawn loudly, cracking my jaws and then sneak a look into the shadows in case something that X allowed to arrive is standing nearby. Or him - the man who could be my father. I never want to find that out for certain.
Dana's precise footsteps clack down my corridor - she and I have done so much together for three years. If I could, I'd kill her, face eternity alongside of her, but I can't. Never, ever hurt her. Not Dana.
Waves and waves of weakness sweep over me, shaded with terror. My mind is all hazy... I pick up my Walther and fire it once - not anywhere immediately fatal because I don't want to die right now. I'm not that stupid.
Her footsteps are hurrying now, running almost. Silently, I urge her on - I ain't got that long left. Hurry. Hurry. She throws the door open and after that, I can't think any more.
Aliens and monsters and being inside a starship. Rotten flesh and lake creatures and laughing with the Gunmen. Oh, hell, I never said anything to you guys. Hey, I'm sorry. Beam me up...I can taste blood even though I've done my chest. Don't know how exactly. Scully looks down over me, reddish hair tickling my face. I feel sick. I want to cry for the first time in years.
'Mulder? Why?'
She doesn't try to help me because I'm dying. Or am I only dreaming that I'm dying? Wish I knew. Her face is so comforting, the nearest I'll ever get to a vision of Heaven. Why has it taken me so long to realise that she's one dream that I actually caught three years ago? I found some-one who loves me; I'm too tired to keep her now.
'Because I'm tired. No more dreams. And - and - thank you.'
Her face fills my vision like it always used to; it's all of my world, and I never realised. Too late now of course - there's blackness all around. There's no aliens in the blackness, no shadowy figures with guns and no Dana either. I want to hear her speak just once more. Dear God, out of all your creation I deserve the least because I failed her, but let me hear her voice just once more so that the darkness isn't so black.
'Oh, Fox. You were always the one I trusted. Always. I won't let you down now - I'll give the Gunmen your love.'
She kneels then, reciting something that sounds like the Last Rites and just as my sight fails, she presses her fingers against her lips and brushes them against mine. Her face is the last thing I shall ever see; her voice the last that I shall ever hear.
'Goodnight, Fox.'
And after that, I don't have to dream anymore.
Rose G
Disclaimer - All characters are the property of Chris Carter and I am making no money from using them.
A/N - This is my first ever attempt at X-Files fiction; I was too young to see the first showings in the UK, and I am now trying to catch up by viewing out of sequence third repeats at unearthly hours and reading the novels. Any errors are mine alone, but obviously, this is an alternate storyline for Mulder.
I'm tired - so very, very tired. If I slept right now, it would be that deep sleep of exhaustion without dreams. Only I'm not going to sleep - I'm leaving, to a place where there are no dreams. Ever. No past - no future. A place where I can sleep and not wake covered in cold sweat.
No hopes of finding the truth; yesterday, I found out as much truth as I ever wanted to know. No dreams of finding Sammy - she's better off where she is now. I'm too tired to carry on fighting, hoping, living.
I've chosen to leave in my office for a reason. It's my home. I'm peaceful, safe here. Scully's picked up her phone; I can hear her soft breathing and somehow, she knows that it's me calling her.
'Mulder? What do you want?'
That's something that I'm going to miss, if I'm conscious of missing anything. 'I want you to see something, now.' I drop the phone and glance around my haven. I yawn loudly, cracking my jaws and then sneak a look into the shadows in case something that X allowed to arrive is standing nearby. Or him - the man who could be my father. I never want to find that out for certain.
Dana's precise footsteps clack down my corridor - she and I have done so much together for three years. If I could, I'd kill her, face eternity alongside of her, but I can't. Never, ever hurt her. Not Dana.
Waves and waves of weakness sweep over me, shaded with terror. My mind is all hazy... I pick up my Walther and fire it once - not anywhere immediately fatal because I don't want to die right now. I'm not that stupid.
Her footsteps are hurrying now, running almost. Silently, I urge her on - I ain't got that long left. Hurry. Hurry. She throws the door open and after that, I can't think any more.
Aliens and monsters and being inside a starship. Rotten flesh and lake creatures and laughing with the Gunmen. Oh, hell, I never said anything to you guys. Hey, I'm sorry. Beam me up...I can taste blood even though I've done my chest. Don't know how exactly. Scully looks down over me, reddish hair tickling my face. I feel sick. I want to cry for the first time in years.
'Mulder? Why?'
She doesn't try to help me because I'm dying. Or am I only dreaming that I'm dying? Wish I knew. Her face is so comforting, the nearest I'll ever get to a vision of Heaven. Why has it taken me so long to realise that she's one dream that I actually caught three years ago? I found some-one who loves me; I'm too tired to keep her now.
'Because I'm tired. No more dreams. And - and - thank you.'
Her face fills my vision like it always used to; it's all of my world, and I never realised. Too late now of course - there's blackness all around. There's no aliens in the blackness, no shadowy figures with guns and no Dana either. I want to hear her speak just once more. Dear God, out of all your creation I deserve the least because I failed her, but let me hear her voice just once more so that the darkness isn't so black.
'Oh, Fox. You were always the one I trusted. Always. I won't let you down now - I'll give the Gunmen your love.'
She kneels then, reciting something that sounds like the Last Rites and just as my sight fails, she presses her fingers against her lips and brushes them against mine. Her face is the last thing I shall ever see; her voice the last that I shall ever hear.
'Goodnight, Fox.'
And after that, I don't have to dream anymore.