Title: A Burden Carried 

Author: Jade  (CmdrJade@aol.com) 

Rated: PG-13 

Timeline/Spoilers: No spoilers and no real time period, although anything 
that goes along with the 8th season has not happened. 

Category: A, First person POV 

Keywords:  *Major character(s) death(s) 

Archive: Anywhere, please let me know where! 

Disclaimer: None of the characters mentioned here belong to me.  I'm not 
making any money off of this, I just really enjoy writing these characters. 

Summary: Skinner thinks of his last couple days and everything that occurred 
in them. 

Author's Notes:  Ok, I know there are a TON of inaccuracies in here, about 
how it would really work out and all.  But when I wrote this story, I wasn't 
too worried about how accurate it really was.  I just wanted to tell a story. 
I hope that doesn't bother you too much...  All the mistakes are solely mine. 

************************************************* 

I sat in the dank bar, quietly thinking without taking a drink of the 
beverage that sat in front of me.  I thought of the past few days and the 
loss and grief that had come with them.  I sighed, not quite believing it, 
although I had witnessed it all. 

Every case is dangerous and this one was no exception.  Although the pair was 
good, I had a bad feeling about assigning Mulder and Scully to the case.  
Something bothered me.  But, as fate would have it, they ended up being my 
only choice.  So they were assigned. 

Now that it's all over, I blame myself for everything that happened.  My mind 
flashes back as I lay my head on the tabletop, remembering everything. 

                                      ****************************** 

"Scully, you can't go in there alone," Mulder protested.  Scully sighed. 

"Mulder, I'll be fine," she reassured him.  "He's not even home, I don't need 
an army behind me to clear the apartment.  Besides, you need to cover me from 
out here, too." 

I stood by the back doors of the car, watching the argument.  I was growing 
tired of it. 

"Mulder, we can watch from right here while she goes in.  There's more of a 
threat right here than in that room.  We'll go right in if anything looks out 
of place," I finally said.  He looked up at me, then back at Scully, chewing 
his lower lip. 

"She shouldn't go in alone," he said. 

"No one can stay out here alone, either," I countered. 

"We need more back-up," Mulder replied. 

"I'll turn the light on when it's clear," Scully said, more to me than 
Mulder.  I nodded.  Scully put a hand on Mulder's shoulder before drawing her 
gun and walking away. 

She was going into the main suspect's apartment at a time we had been assured 
he wouldn't be home.  Mulder obviously wasn't too happy about her going in 
alone.  Truthfully, neither was I.  But she had made it clear numerous times 
that she could handle it. 

"C'mon, Mulder," I said, gently pushing him back into the car.  Mulder was 
watching Scully's every move, until she left his line of vision.  He sat in 
silence, staring straight ahead.  We waited, looking for the light. 

"It's been too long," he suddenly said.  I glanced over at him, seeing the 
worry in his eyes.  "She said she'd turn the light on." 

"Mulder," I started, wanting to give her a little more before rushing in.  
But the feeling was back, the same one that told me not to assign Mulder and 
Scully to the case.  "All right," I conceded.  "Let's go." 

We opened the car door the same time a shot rang out.  Mulder was off at 
breakneck speed in an instant.  I followed close behind. 

We ran until we reached the suspect's apartment door.  It was hanging ajar 
and a crowd was beginning to form.  Mulder pushed his way to the front, 
myself right behind him. 

He stopped as soon as he got front and center.  I nearly ran into him from 
behind.  I saw his face pale and I shifted to see around him. 

I don't think anything could have prepared me for the sight that I saw.  
Sure, I had seen plenty of violent crimes scenes, plenty of blood, and many 
deaths.  Fellow agents had died right beside me.  It all came with the job. 

Scully lay on the floor, her blood forming a pool beneath her.  I faintly 
heard someone call 911, but I could already tell it was too late.  I looked 
over at Mulder. 

He stood in shock, right where he had stopped coming in.  He moved toward 
her, looking as if he expected her to get up.  I moved to talk to him, but at 
that moment he kneeled down to Scully's side.  He ignored the pool of blood 
that was staining his shoes and pants and took Scully's lifeless hand in his. 
I kneeled down next to him, putting my hand on his shoulder, knowing it 
would not be enough to comfort him. 

"Oh, God," was the only thing he choked out.  His eyes remained on her face, 
the tears rapidly forming.  He let them fall freely down his face and soon 
after, sobs racked his body.  "Oh, God," he whispered. 

"Please, Scully...please don't go," he started murmuring.  The crowd outside 
the door began to disperse, sensing the night was over for them.  The 
paramedics arrived, but knowing they could do nothing, gave Mulder his room.  
In the back of my mind, I knew I should be trying to catch the guy that had 
done this, but I couldn't tear myself from the sides of my two best agents. 

Mulder was cradling her head, crying hard but silently into her hair.  He 
muttered the same few things over and over.  "Please don't go, don't leave me 
here alone," was mostly what I could make out.  An occasional "I love you" 
could be heard as well.  Hearing him whisper so brokenly to her brought a 
dagger to my heart. 

I choked back my own tears, unsuccessful as a lone tear streaked down my face. 

                                         ******************************* 

Another tear fell on the table of the bar.  I had watched two agents die that 
day.  Scully with a bullet, Mulder with her death.  He had made it through 
three days before his letter of resignation hit my desk.  I approved it, as I 
felt I had to. 

But I kept an eye on him, as he moved out.  I felt everything was my fault, 
and I knew Mulder was also blaming himself.  I didn't want him to do anything 
stupid. 

I got the call a few days later.  I immediately went over to his apartment. 

I had to turn away from the sight.  Mulder was lying on the floor in front of 
his couch, his gun still loosely gripped in his hand.  Bottles of alcohol 
littered the room and the whole apartment reeked of it.  His television and 
other material valuables were shattered.  Mulder's face was stained with tear 
tracks, where I was able to make them out. 

There was a note he had left on his computer desk.  It was short and 
scrawled.  The ink was smeared all across the paper. 

           'Scully was my life.  She's gone now.  I can't live without her, I 
don't want to.  
            Life doesn't matter anymore.' 

I had left his apartment and found myself in this bar.  Mourning the deaths 
of my two best agents.  Wishing I could go back and change everything.  
Cursing myself for not watching Mulder more closely, not going in with 
Scully, letting them be assigned in the first place. 

I sighed and stood up, leaving the bar without ever taking a drink, my mind 
still haunted.  I pulled out my cell phone, clutching Mulder's note in my 
hand.  I dialed Margaret Scully's number and told her of Mulder's sudden 
suicide.  She immediately started crying, though through her tears she 
offered to help go through his stuff.  I agreed, knowing she was the most 
rightful owner of both his and Scully's things. 

I hung up with Mrs. Scully, the sudden loss of human contact blowing into me. 

And that's when it all hit home and started feeling all the more real. 

******************End******************** 
Thanks for reading all the way through.  Drop me a line and tell me what ya 
think.  This story makes me think of how things like this happen to people 
right now, but all of us are so totally unaware of things that don't happen 
to someone we know.  There's so much going on with every person you come 
across.  Anyway.... 

                        -Jade 
"You've got to dance like nobody's watching and love like it's never going to 
hurt." 
"It's a drum corps field.  We just let the football players use it in the 
offseason." 
"The man who says it cannot be done should never interrupt the woman who is 
doing it." 
"Music can bring about a change from mere existence to life." 
"A musician cannot move others unless he himself is first moved." 
"People who throw kisses are hopelessly lazy." 
"To believe in something and not live it is dishonest