Things Left Unsaid

by Felicia

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this story and I never will. The story idea belongs to me and I seek no profit.

Scully was a woman on the edge, no doubt about it. For five months she had fought her grief with everything she had. Now she was weak and broken and out of fight. She had made the trip to Raleigh, alone and broken and near tears for the better part of the way. She parked the car and made the long trek to the semi-isolated grave – to his final resting place. Her first moments there were spent in silence, thinking back on their time together. She then placed a bunch of flowers on his headstone and bowed her head in prayer. She was praying for his soul to be resting more peacefully than it lived, praying that his death had been as quick and painless as possible, praying that he was watching over their unborn child, praying for their unborn child, and finally praying for herself and that she would soon get past the pain of this loss. But she had come for a purpose, intentionally picking a day and time when most would be working and weren't likely to visit the graves of their late loved ones.

There were a lot of things she never had the chance to tell him and a constant emotional storm brewing inside her. Scully had thought of putting everything in a letter but decided it wasn't the same, she needed to give her thoughts and feelings a voice before she could move on to the next stage of grieving. And since she couldn't call his cell phone and speak to him or leave a voice mail that he would listen to the minute he got it, she went to him, or to the only place that seemed to make sense. Scully traced his name engraved in the smooth, polished granite. She could stay here for a year and it would never become real to her. It would always seem like a nightmare she needed to wake from.

"Damn it, Mulder," she sniffed. "You have the worst timing in the world, do you know that? In the same second I find out the future is looking bright for us, I have to find out that you've disappeared, swallowed by the truth that you so desperately sought. And just when I have hope that you'll be coming home to me, you die and my last hope for saving you is picked up by the mother ship." The snow that had been present during his funeral had melted, giving way to green grass and hard ground. As she knelt next to his grave she began speaking with a little more venom than she had intended. "How could you do this, Mulder? How could you leave me? I didn't die on you! I never even thought about it! I wanted to come back to you, for you, for us before there ever was an us! But you . . . you're gone for months and when you come back you die! I thought you loved me, Mulder! What happened to never leaving me? To spending our twilight years together? I know how you suffered, I saw you . . . I saw the tests, the torture, I felt the pain you were going through. When you were returned I saw your scars, the proof of all I had been witness to."

She began to sob as she thought back to the nightmares she had had. "We've fought so hard, Mulder. We've fought for everything we've ever done and so often we've come out of the fight empty handed." She rested her head on his headstone, "why, Mulder? I just need you to tell me why it was so damn easy for you to leave me . . . just when I needed you the most." One hand clutched his grave marker while the other hand caressed her slightly swollen abdomen. Her tears trickled down the headstone and pooled onto the base. "I love you, Mulder. I love you and I miss you more than I've ever missed anyone, and I needed to tell you that so I can move past this feeling of denial and the anger. Bye, Mulder. I'll be back in a couple of weeks." Scully used the marker to pull herself up off the ground, pausing only to run her fingertips over the face of the stone. She fished her car keys from her coat pocket and turned to walk back to her car.

Scully hadn't even considered driving to her own apartment. Instead she went to Mulder's place, and even though no one had lived there on a day-to-day basis for some time, the familiarity it provided and the memories it held were comforting and much needed. She picked up his paper, fed his fish, thumbed through the mail she had picked up on the way in, and went to his bedroom to borrow another shirt from him. This would become her routine. Every time she visited Mulder's final resting place, she would come to his home to water plants, feed fish, and pick up his mail, just as she had done countless times when he was only out of town. She missed him more than she could have ever dreamed and ached for him in such a way that she couldn't even begin to put into words. But this time he wouldn't need a ride home from the airport or be calling her from across the country at two-thirty in the morning because he was having trouble sleeping. This time all she had were his old t-shirts and an apartment full of memories.

For the most part his apartment was exactly how he had left it. She had been forced to clean out the refrigerator and make a few other minor changes, but couldn't bring herself to change much about the place that had been her second home for so many years. The place that had been his home for longer than she had known him. Everyone told her she should let the apartment go. Pack up his things and put them in a storage building until she felt she could part with the bits and pieces from his life. Scully usually responded to the suggestions with a soft snort before turning on her heels and walking away. No, she would keep this place as long as possible because she couldn't say goodbye.

Completely overcome with exhaustion, Scully kicked off her shoes, went back to Mulder's bedroom, pulled on one of his shirts and slipped between the sheets of his unmade bed. There was something comforting about sleeping on his pillow in his room of his apartment. It made things seem for the briefest of moments, like he wasn't really gone at all. As she drifted off to sleep, Scully dreamed of Mulder and their all to brief time together.

When she woke a few short hours later with an undeniable craving for sunflower seeds, Scully crawled out of bed and began searching the apartment. She began with the kitchen, the most logical place, and continued all the way through until she returned to the bedroom. It was in Mulder's night stand drawer she found an unopened bag of sunflower seeds. Scully smiled and for the first time since they met, she thanked Mulder for his addiction. Under the bag of seeds she found an envelope with her name scribbled on the outside by Mulder's hand.

She debated for several minutes before opening the thick envelope and reading the pages inside, despite the fact it was addressed to her. She still felt as though she were prying in some way. Scully popped another seed in her mouth and carefully opened the letter. The first thing she noticed about the letter was that Mulder had dated it for the day before he left for Bellefleur. That alone brought a tear to her eye but she continued on despite the water-blurred vision.

My Dearest Dana;

I couldn't leave for Oregon without telling you exactly how I feel about you, though I hope you know. Seven years ago you walked into my office, our office, and challenged me from that first minute. I knew then and there I was in trouble, because if anyone else had tried that I would have started driving them away post haste. But you were different. I sensed something in that moment that told me you weren't leaving that easily, and not long after that, I sensed things in you that I hoped would rub off on me over time and make me a better person.

I've loved you, Dana. I've loved you from that first minute and I'll love you until my last breath. You've awakened things in me I thought I had forgotten how to feel, and loved me when I thought no one could – even when I didn't love myself. Your love and willingness to follow me in my quest, your friendship and your trust in me, has changed my life for the better. Hell, Dana, you taught me how to live and love again. And what have I given you in return? Because of me, you've lost your sister and your ability to have children. You've almost died more times than I care to count of, more illnesses than I care to think about. You were abducted and had some sort of chip planted in the back of your neck that cost you so much. And for what? To help me search for a truth that I never found?

Dana, I'm so sorry that you've wasted your last seven years on the X-Files and on me. If you're reading this, it probably means I didn't make it back from Oregon. So please, Dana, give it up. Let them close the X-files so you can move on with your life. Find someone that will love you the way you deserve to be loved, buy that house with the yard, adopt the kids and the dog, live that normal life that you couldn't have with me. And please know that if I've not returned, I didn't leave you by choice, I would never leave you willingly. I've loved you from that first minute, Dana, and I'll love you until eternity is no more.

F. Mulder

When Scully finally stopped sobbing, she scanned the remaining pages and found specific instructions on how she should proceed with things should he not return. She folded the letter and other papers, and stuffed them back into their envelope. She put the envelope back in the night stand and closed the drawer. "Damn it, Mulder," she squeaked partly out of frustration and partly for old times sake. This was the sweetest Mulder had ever been, directly, so it was only fitting that he was searching for the truth in the afterlife.

Absently rubbing a hand over her abdomen, she curled back into Mulder's bed and pulled the covers over her. It was now apparent that they had both left things unsaid"Goodnight, Mulder," she whispered into the darkness, "I love you, too."

The End