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The characters herein are the property of 1013, Fox and Chris Carter. No infringement on their copyright is intended. Their usage here is for entertainment purposes only.

RATING: PG

Author's notes: Thanks as always to Am, for a quick response. Thanks to Medawyn for telling me my story wasn't stupid. And thanks to Susan for reminding me that everything isn't about guilt.

August to October 1999

She turned from the bodies and began walking toward the house, hoping to find the clear signs of struggle that would put this case to rest. She knew, without a doubt, he would linger behind. The wheels of self-loathing would start churning in his head and he'd wonder what he could have done differently, how he could have saved them, how he could take all the blame and add it to the growing pile in his soul.

The dogs howled and grunted in confusion as she pulled open the door and slipped inside. They knew she wasn't the one who belonged here, just as she felt her intrusion in the prickling of the hairs on the back of her neck. It was night, but the room had been just as dark the last time she was there. Dim lamps led her up the stairs and into the woman's bedroom, where she found nothing but broken glass and billowing curtains. No struggle. It had been a sacrifice, then. Again she knew her partner would somehow believe the sacrifice had been made for him.

Pulling out her cell phone she made the appropriate calls to the sheriff's office and the paramedics, cleanly giving them the facts in her cool, even voice. She was strangely unaffected by the death of those in the yard below. Maybe it was because she hadn't been focused on them at all during this case, instead wrapping herself up in the wildly careening emotions she hadn't been prepared for: jealousy and suspicion and insecurity.

At the bottom of the stairs her eye lit on the poster hidden in the far corner. It had consumed more of her thoughts in the last few days than any other reason she had for being there. What did it mean if he had given it to her? What did it mean that she kept it, nestled in the corner with her own nest of newspaper clips and photos? What did it mean if she had sought one out on her own? She would never have the courage to ask any of those questions. Inside she knew she had made a big enough fool of herself over this, and that she wouldn't be finding the courage to discuss it anytime soon.

Still, seeing it there, she ached at its familiarity. Its declaration meant such different things to her partner and this woman who needed him�who wanted to believe he might tell her it was okay to need him.

Without thinking she hurried over to the wall and carefully unpinned the edges of the poster, spreading one hand at the top corner to keep it from rolling in on itself. Placing the awkward object on the desk, she quickly jotted out a note to leave with it.

*-*-*-*

He sat back to regard the image before him. She had handed him the cardboard mailing tube as if she knew nothing about it, too nonchalant for him to believe her. And now she stood quietly in the hallway, watching him as he tried to figure out what the words meant to him now. After so many months of starting over and learning new truths, he wasn't sure what there was left to strive for other than completion. The thought exhausted him.

He didn't need to turn his chair around to see the worried look on her face. The furrowed brow, just above her stunning blue eyes. She had tried to make peace with him, offering kind words about the woman she had regarded before with such distrust. He should have told her there was nothing to forgive.

"There's no need to study me from afar, Scully," his voice rasped out in the darkness, hoarse from hours of tension and choked tears. When she didn't immediately answer, he thought she had gone after all. Strange, because he could still feel her.

The low clunk of her shoes signaled he was right, and soon she was perched on the desk next to him, resting her slight weight in the palms of her hands. They took moments to stare at the poster together, completely comfortable in the silence that hung around them.

"It seems right, that it would come back to you," she said minutes later.

"Does it? I'm not so sure anymore."

She sighed deeply and her mouth worked into a frown she hoped he wouldn't see.

"We're quite a pair, you and I," she noted, keeping her eyes on the blurry saucer shape in front of her. "You guilty because you believe she died trying to protect you, me guilty because I wanted to hate her for caring enough to do just that."

"That's ridiculous, Scully. You had no reason to feel threatened by her."

"Did I say threatened?"

His quick glance told her she didn't have to. His mouth had worked into a frown of its own.

"It's ridiculous, Mulder, that you would assume it's your fault every time something bad happens to someone close to you."

"Did I say it was my fault?"

She chuckled softly, a sound that had the power to change the entire mood of the room. Even a room as full of guilt and pity as the dank basement office.

"Seriously, Scully. When I found this poster the first time, I knew absolutely nothing about what my life was going to turn out to be. Sure, I always knew I would continue searching for Sam, and I always knew there would be people to stop me. But the things we've seen�all the lives we've seen wasted because of inconsequential things�Now, I just don't know. It's not about believing anymore."

She turned to face him, bracing her hip against the desk. His honestly was both elating and frightening. He looked old to her, then. His handsome face betrayed the years of struggle to conquer countless demons, his shoulders drooped and he seemed suddenly too thin. She wanted to reach out and smooth the lines from his forehead, but feared her touch would drive him back inside himself.

"What's it about now?" she asked smoothly, careful not to sound patronizing or motherly.

"You shouldn't have been worried about her Scully. She knew what you were. What you are."

Another sigh escaped her. When she rolled her body back toward the wall, he stunned her by following her, placing his arms on either side of her.

"Do you know?" he questioned her.

She did know, but wasn't ready to say it. Instead she stepped further into his arms, resting gently against him, breathing him in as he closed around her.

END

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