Author's Notes: All of a sudden, I find myself writing X-Files again, boy has it been awhile. Let me know what you think of my latest attempt. :-)

Disclaimer: Straight simple and to the point: Mulder and Scully are property of FOX Television, 1013 Productions, Chris Carter, and probably a bunch of other people. If I owned them, I wouldn't need student loans. :-)

On an overcast grey day Fox Mulder found himself drawn to the sea. He had never been one to run to the coast when his problems grew to heavy to bear. That had changed over the past two or three years. For as long as he knew Scully, she had found peace in the ocean. Every once in a while she felt the need to reconnect with the sea she so loved. He never really understood that desire, to return to a stable presence.

It was only after she left that he realized she was his stabilizing presence. However, then it was too late. Now, with his world lying in the rubble beneath his feet, he had begun to see peace from something that he felt provided a link to her.

After she had walked away from him and the x-files he was angry. He had grown bitter and withdrawn, even more so than during his hellish years working with Bill Patterson. Speculation abounded within the J. Edgar Hoover building as to what had finally driven Scully away.

In time, anger turned to grief. An all-encompassing sadness enveloped Mulder. He still reeled from what he believed was Scully's betrayal of him, even months later. A.D. Skinner even went so far as to issue Mulder a warning: Snap out of it, or you're on desk duty. As always, Mulder paid the warning little mind.

For once, Skinner followed through on a disciplinary action against Mulder. Exactly six months after Scully had last walked out of their shared basement office, Mulder was restricted to desk duty. Skinner had expected a reaction, an outburst that would break Mulder out of his detached state. His concern only grew when Mulder silently accepted the assignment. Skinner knew that for as brilliant as Fox Mulder was, he was equally as talented at finding trouble, desk duty or not.

Over the next few months Mulder had found himself driving out to the coast more and more often. It took nearly three years for him to finally understand and acknowledge why. He needed Scully, he always had. He cursed the stubborn pride that prevented him from running after her when she'd revealed her decision to leave the bureau.

While his body sat on the sun-warmed sands of the Mid-Atlantic coastline, his mind returned to the fatefull morning that had emptied his existence of all light. His photographic memory cursed him to never be able to forget every moment of that Tuesday.

She had entered the office, dressed immaculately as always. He had been waiting to go over a new case with her, but she stopped him with a look. When he studied her more closely he could tell she was having to work at staying calm. Her breathing was measured, and her hands kept clenching into fists and relaxing over and over.

"I'm leaving. I've resigned - effective immediately." No preliminaries, no "Hi, Mulder. How's it going? By the way, screw you!" Just like Scully to get straight to the point and go for the jugular. He never knew how long he sat there, slack jawed, staring at the petite redhead that stood across from him. His mind couldn't form thoughts, but it was just as well seeing as how he couldn't breathe enough to allow his throat to from words.

She looked torn as if wondering whether to run like hell while she had the chance, or stay and try to convince him of her reasons. For once in her life, Dana Scully took the low road. Known for her strength, logic and science, she couldn't find the strength to face his emotion with her logic.

When she left, Mulder had yet to say a word. He simply sat and stared. The last sight he had of his partner was her turning into the hallway. He listened to her heels tapping on the tile floor until the sound was gone. Only then did it hit him. He was alone, and he'd done nothing to prevent it. He felt he deserved it somehow, somehow it was his fault.

In his memories, he gave in to the tears that were boiling in his eyes. The man on the beach did the same. Although both were literally Fox William Mulder, they were in essence two different people. This new Mulder cared for no one, a hardened shell of the one who'd lived before. Hazel eyes once expressive now gazed across the grey water, dead.

Mulder's down slide had eventually stopped, much to Skinner's relief. Still, a rebound never came. The truth no one knew was Mulder had learned to hide his emotions. The result was the change in his eyes. Anyone who had taken the time to know Mulder knew hta t his eyes were billboards revealing his emotional state. But the one that might notice the difference was the one who had caused the change.

Mulder was resigned to the fact that his numerous retreats to the sea were of little consequence, accomplishing nothing. His soul still felt vacant, as if suffering from a mortal wound dealt by Scully's betrayal. He truly believed nothing could save him now, and why should it? Scully was gone, Samantha was safe and didn't need him. He was truly an orphan lost in the wind.

He could feel the cold metal of the weapon resting comfortably in his hand. His only thought being to end the misery he could no longer endure or bear alone. He wished there would be someone left behind to miss him, but they were all gone. Besides, he'd said his goodbyes to those few people who might one day take notice of his absence. He had written and mailed the letters a day or two before. For some reason, he couldn't remember exactly when he'd sent them.

Slowly, he brought the weapon up to his temple. Mulder was just starting to squeeze the trigger when he heard his name.

"Mulder!" The voice cried.

The exclamation was followed by an alarmed, "Fox! No!"

Startled by the voices, his hand jerked and the bullet just grazed his forehead. Shaken, he looked over at the two women who were nearing him cautiously. Mulder stared, unable to believe it was actually his ex-partner standing there. He shook his head to clear it; regretting the action when blood trickled down into his eye, blurring his vision. Beside Scully was her mom, both looked close to panicking.

His mind close to overload, Mulder again found himself unable to speak. He didn't actually believe the visions were real until they sat down, one on either side of him. Scully gently removed his gun from Mulder's hand and the two women pulled him into a group hug. Both Mulder and Mrs. Scully were taken aback by the sight of tears in Dana's eyes.

Finally, Mulder reclaimed his voice. "Scully?" The one word held so many different questions and statements. Hazel eyes, so recently void, shot off flares of buried emotion.

"I'm here. I should have never ran away." As she spoke, she dabbed at the cut on his forehead.

Confusion mixed with disbelief on his features. "How?" Silently he cursed the fact that his conversational skills had dwindled down to one word questions.

Scully looked across to where her mother was sitting with one hand resting on Mulder's shoulder. It was Mrs. Scully who answered. "Your letter. It came this morning. I got scared, needless to say. I guessed that you would come here from things you'd said the few times we've spoken. I called Dana and we rushed here." After a pause she continued, "I'm. We're just thankful that we made it in time. I've lost one daughter Fox, I can't bare to lose a son, too."

He risked a glance over at Scully while she was speaking, but he looked over at Mrs. Scully confused by her last statement. It took a moment before he realized that she really meant him. He blinked slowly, whispering "I'm sorry."

Near tears, Margaret Scully pulled him to her, rubbing his hair and saying "Honey, there's nothing for you to be sorry for. I'm just happy that you're safe."

Scully sat a small distance away, watching as her mom comforted Mulder. She could see a drastic difference between the man she had known and this virtual stranger. Worst of all, she knew she was at fault for the change.

Having convinced herself that he didn't need her, she went on with her new life away from him. After a while she could actually go for days without thinking about him. Yet even after almost three years, he was never terribly far away from her thoughts. Her mother's frantic telephone call had sent her running without a second thought. Sitting right in front of her was evidence of the consequence of her hasty action. It was multiplied by the fact that she never had an actual reason for leaving. She had simply wanted an easier out. He might miss her, but he'd be all right. She had been wrong.

Glancing at her daughter, Margaret could guess what Dana was thinking. Even though the former partners sat less than a foot apart the distance might as well have been immeasurable.

"Dana, I think we should take Fox back to my house." Seeing a look of protest forming on Fox's face, she countered with, "And no arguments from you, either." Dana glanced from her mother to Mulder and simply nodded her head.

The ride back inland was spent in silence. Neither Scully nor Mulder wanted to be the first to speak. Each were scared of what the other might reveal. For her part, Margaret drove, casually glancing over at her daughter and back at Fox; her concern not having abated merely by avoiding this potential disaster. This could only be cured if and when both of the stubborn ex-partners and former best friends finally spoke to one another.

Late that night, Scully broke the oppressive silence. "Why?" She was surprised by how small her voice sounded.

Mulder almost jumped at the feather light sound. Composing himself, he countered. "Why? Why not?" His eyes determinedly avoided hers. When she didn't respond, he continued. "My life lost its purpose somewhere along the line. Samantha is safe, with a family of her own and no desire to have me as a part of her life. The only other part of my life that had any meaning at all was my work with you. After that was taken away from me, as well, I tried to lie to myself and go on, but the lies grew to be too much Why, you ask? Why not, I ask you. I grew tired of feeling guilty for always bringing everyone I care about pain and misery. So why not stop the cycle before I hurt you or someone else even more?"

Scully had been staring blankly, listening to Mulder attempt to rationalize his near miss suicide, until the last part. She had always hated Mulder's need to consistently take the blame, and this time she snapped.

"Mulder, damn it, don't you see?" No matter what bad may have happened to me or us over the years, it only made each of us stronger. Or so I thought. I know that because of knowing you grew as a person. Don't you dare feel guilty for that. I should be apologizing to you for the way I walked away from you with no explanation. I couldn't have given you one, because I didn't have one. Besides, don't you see? Your life isn't defined by me. You are a wonderful human being, who truly feels and cares. The world needs more like you, not less. You can't just give up, I need to know that you're safe. I need you in my life." Scully had started pacing during her speech, and finally settled down onto the couch near Mulder. She looked at him, awaiting his response.

'You need me in your life?" His tone was almost mocking, but softened. "*You* cut *me* out, Scully. Not the other way around..."

He was cutoff by Scully saying. "I know that. Damn you, Mulder! Why can't you just let me admit my mistake?" She was close to tears, but didn't care anymore.

Mulder almost gave in, but held back. "Three years is a long time, Scully. Betrayal settles cold on the stomach. It eats up your insides until the heart is a hollow place. It grows until the only salve for the spirit is to hurt the very one who hurt you. To make them see what it is like, or to just leave it all. Forever." A look of saddened rejection filled her features. Upon seeing her eyes register a hint of despair he relented. "But I don't think I have the strength to go through with the former."

"Then what..." She began to ask.

"Do we do now?" Mulder finished her question. It was like sliding back into a familiar groove. "I don't know. This is a start I guess. I've missed you so much, Dana."

"Only as much as I've missed you, no matter how hard I've worked at denying it."

Standing just inside the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, Margaret Scully smiled for the first time since reading Fox's letter. It wasn't an ending, she surmised, but it was a definite new beginning.

fin

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