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
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One Last Breath
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Nothing mattered.
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.
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
Jessica (a.k.a.G-Woman1)
28/5/97
Nothing.
Since they had taken her, those fucking sons of bitches, since that night, nothing had
mattered to Fox Mulder.
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.'