DISCLAIMER: They're mine! All MINE!!! Only joking. Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, Phoebe Green and Samantha Mulder are the sole property of Chris Carter, 1013 productions and Fox broadcasting network.
RATING: R, for a little nasty language.
CLASSIFICATION: Definite Mulder Angst, a hint of MSR
SPOILERS: Duane Barry, Ascension, and One Breath(Duh)
DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere and everywhere as long as my name stays firmly attached and the story isn't altered in any way.
FEEDBACK: Send to [email protected]
My computer is always hungry for e-mail, please feed it!
SUMMARY: Mulder evaluates his life while Scully is abducted.

This is dedicated to my partner in crime, Lee Forman (G-Woman2). This is my first fanfic and it was written during a particularily boring English class, (but revised later of course ), so please be gentle!

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

One Last Breath
Jessica (a.k.a.G-Woman1)
28/5/97

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

Nothing mattered.
Nothing.
Since they had taken her, those fucking sons of bitches, since that night, nothing had mattered to Fox Mulder.

His strength. His guiding light. His beacon in the dark, had been swallowed by the very darkness that she had kept at bay.

Damn them.

He shifted restlessly on the couch, his body numb and tired. The muted television flickered, showing one of his many videos. A man and woman were writhing together on screen, their desperate sounds of passion silenced. Those sounds were too painful to him at the moment, they just reminded him of what could've been. He only had it on to keep the dark of the night at bay.

He raised the bottle to his lips and took a large swallow. The putrid liquid burned a trail down his throat to his belly, where it radiated a heat throughout his body. He wiped his mouth with the same hand, scratching it on the 48 hours worth of stubble that had grown there. He couldn't have cared less.

He had walked through his door last night, grateful to be away from the brightness and movement of the bureau. Loosening his tie, he had thrown it and his jacket on the disaster that was his floor, crossing it in four long strides, before collapsing on his well-worn couch. He had moved just twice since then, once to go to the bathroom and to get the whiskey, and once to get his gun.

He held it now in his hand, it's heavy weight a perverse comfort.

It had been almost 2 months since he had stood on that mountain, staring up at the sky into which she had been taken. Since then, his life and his work had deteriorated at an alarming rate, to the point where he wasn't sure whether he should continue to struggle along, or just give into the siren song of death.

Tonight, he had made that decision.

A single tear escaped his eye and blurred his vision as he slowly raised the hand holding the gun to his head, and placed the muzzle against his temple. He let his eyes fall shut, and in his mind, he silently said the words which he had been so afraid to voice to her when she had been by his side.

'I love you Dana Katharine Scully.
More than anyone, anything, I have ever known before. More than my parents, definitely more than Phoebe, and, yes, even more than my beautiful little sister Sam. Certainly, I love you more than this existence, which is why, without you, there is no point in dragging myself through the mess that is called life. I hope you will forgive me, love, for not having the strength to continue without you.'

As his finger tightened on the trigger, he squeezed his eyes shut tighter. His voice came out as a choked whisper, 'I'm sorry, Dana.'

Brrrrriiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnngggggg!!!

His body convulsed, and he gasped, sitting up straight. His eyes flew open, and it took several seconds for the ringing of the phone to register in his confused brain before he leaned forward and grabbed it.

'Mulder.'

'Hi.'

His body relaxed slightly, some of his tension dissipating at the sound of that familiar voice.

'Hi yourself,' he said, his voice shaking slightly.

'Mulder, what's wrong?'

His face stretched slowly into a wide grin at hearing the familiar, instinctive concern in Dana Scully's voice.

'Nothing, Scully, nothing at all. I just had a nightmare, that's all.'

'Do you want to talk about it?'

'No.... But, Scully?' He took a deep breath, 'Can I come over anyway? There's something I need to tell you.'

FIN

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1