Title: The Large Curveballs of Life Author: Jade (CmdrJade@aol.com) Rating: PG-13ish (for dark subject matter) Spoilers: Gethsemane Category: Angst (big time), sorta MSR Archive: Anywhere, but please tell me, so I can visit :) Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. You know who does. Summary: What if Mulder really had committed suicide that night? Author's notes: Been a long time, eh? :) More at the end. Feedback: Any type, whether good or bad, is always appreciated. :) ************************************* I feel my walk away from his apartment. Feels more like floating, really. It's all surreal, it's all a dream. A disembodied feeling from the world The elevator doors open and Skinner steps out. His face remains expressionless as he sees me. I know I should say something, but the dazed fog won't go away. "Scully?" he mumbles, touching my shoulder. The contact startles me and I involuntarily move away. He pulls back. "Is it true?" he asks. I raise my eyes to his, but I'm starting past them. Reality has not yet sunk in and memories are flashing before my eyes. "Scully?" Another mumble pulls me back. He touches me again. I don't respond this time. I'm too numb. "Yes," I whisper, stepping into the elevator. Skinner watches after me, concerned. Rightfully so. The doors close, shutting me off from the world of police tape and detective work. As they open again, I step out, wondering where to go. I want to escape. I need somewhere where I can sleep, where nothing real can touch me. It's useless really. No matter where I go, I'll still be thinking about him. His lifeless body, his blood staining his floor. It will haunt me, even in sleep. I realize I'm at my car. Climbing in, I instictively start the car and begin driving. What if I had called? Could I have prevented it? Why didn't I think to call last night? Why? I desperately hope it wasn't because of me, the cancer. I should never have told him. I hope he didn't blame himself. I know he did. I don't. A surge of guilt washes over me. What if he did it because of me? Selfishly, I find a new train of thought. He left me. Left me alone with my cancer. I was going to die alone, without his presence by my side. Why did he leave me? Didn't he know how much I need him? I suddenly realize that, actually, no, he didn't. I had never told him. Never once told him how important he was to me. How much he had brought to my life. How much I was in love with him. I never even told him I loved him. Now I never can. I'm sure he knew, I try to tell myself. But if he had known, he might still be here, another thought taunts me. I realize I've driven to my mother's. Bill is still here and it looks like Charlie even made it for a visit, from the extra car in the driveway. I pull in and shut down, climbing out of the car. I need to cry and I need someone to hold me. I knock on the door and Bill answers. He doesn't look too pleased with me. I slide past him. "Dana," he says, shutting the door, "you didn't come back for dinner. Or even spend the night." I guiltily look at the ground. The tears are pricking at the corners of my eyes and I fight for control. I can hear footsteps coming from the other room. "Why're you letting Mulder run your life?" Bill asks angrily. I almost lost control at the mention of his name. Mulder. I'm never going to see him again . "Dana!" I hear Charlie exclaim, and suddenly his arm is slung over my shoulder. I look up and he grins. I see the grin slowly fade as he immediately notices something is wrong. I see Mom out of the corner of my eye and she also has a concerned expression. "Are you going to answer me, Dana?" Bill asks. "Dana?" Mom asks, stepping forward to put her hand on my arm. All I can see is Mulder's face, grinning at me, eyes twinkling, in my mind's eye. The memories of his lopsided smile torture me, never straying from my mind. I'll never hear him laugh again. I'll never see him smile again. Never. The finality of the thought breaks me. My control breaks in a painful sob. I fall to my knees, the tears pouring out. I hurt so bad and no one will ever understand. No one can make it okay. I almost collapse, but I break my fall with my hand. It's now I realize I still have my trenchcoat on and it's restricting me. My mom and brothers rush towards me at once. Bill grabs my arm, trying to support me. Charlie rests his hand on my back while my mother kneels to make eye contact. I can barely see her through my blurred eyes and I try to wipe the tears away. The act is futile; more keep pouring out. "Dana, what happened?" Mom asked, sounding more than a little panicked. I shake my head. I can't say it. To speak it makes it real. I don't want this to be real. The gun beside him. His blood pooled on the floor. His very life seeped out of him. I wasn't there to save him. Charlie and Bill move to the couch. I bring my feet up and curl into a fetal position, the sobs still wracking my body. He can't be gone. He was my everything. "I couldn't save him," I forced out. I regained a little control and my cries slightly weakened. "Save who, Dana?" Charlie asked. "Mulder. He's," I pause, another sob working its way out. "He's dead." Mom starts in shock and Charlie's eyes widen. Bill didn't react, except to walk out of the room. "I never even told him," I whisper, closing my eyes. "I never will..." ************** I awake on the couch and glance at my watch. 1:00 AM. For one glorious moment, my mind was blank. Suddenly, I remembered the day's events in a flood. It hadn't been a nightmare. I really did have to deal with it. I pushed myself up and headed for the door. "Dana, wait," Bill's voice stopped me as the door opened. I turned and found him in the sea of black. He stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder. "How'd it happen?" he asked. I paused, refusing to meet his eyes. "Suicide," I answer after a moment, feeling the tears come back. I felt the shock affect Bill physically. He pulled his hand away. "Oh, God," he said softly. "I--uh...why?" I bit my lip and didn't answer, beginning to walk away. "I'm sorry, Dana. Really. Please call if you need anything," he said. I wonder if it was hard for him to be sincere. I just nodded in response. I heard Bill close the door and tears silently flowed down my face. It was too hard. Too hard to handle. I didn't want to go through this alone. Not this, not my cancer. Again, my thoughts turn selfishly inward. Why'd you leave me, Mulder? Why didn't you call? Damn it, Mulder, I hate you for doing this. My head was pounding as my thoughts spiraled downward, as I went deeper and deeper into my depression. I began to feel dizzy as I got in my car. I closed my eyes, leaned my head against the headrest, and wiped the tears from my face. I opened my eyes to find my hands stained red. My head pounded harder and my dizziness grew. I saw darkness creeping up at the edges of my eyes. God, Mulder, I thought, before the darkness overtook me. I hate you so much for leaving me. I hate you so much. ********************************** The End Author's Notes (cont.): Sorry for all the depressing stuff guys, but I just recently went through something like this... A lot of the story is my own personal feelings on the subject of suicide and Scully basically handled it the way I did. On a little lighter note (well, maybe not to some of you), I'm back again! I hope to post more than I have been! :) (The last time was what...sometime in June?:) So thanks for reading this far and *please* tell me what you think!