| Mulder�s Apartment Arlington, Virginia 4:27 A.M. It hurt. Every little thing he did reminded him of Sundance somehow. If he took a shower, he was reminded of the times when Sundance bathed. How the bathroom would be such a mess afterward, but seeing her standing there in a shaft of sunlight from the window with beads of water on her feathers made it all worthwhile because every time she would stand still for several moments, fluffed as much as a bird can, and just let the sun dry her. The water beads would shimmer as she breathed, giving the illusion that she wasn�t real. If he watched television, he was reminded of the times when he would relax on the couch, his feet propped on the coffee table, and Sundance would--mindful of the leather--lie perpendicular to him, her head in his lap, cooing contentedly as they watched some really gory B movie that should never have been made in the first place but was a neverending source of entertainment anyhow. She always came up with the best pun or joke or something to fit the scene. Finally, he grabbed his jacket and left, trying to escape the memories that pestered him at all hours. As he stepped out the door he saw his car and remembered how Sundance had been unable to fit completely in the back and Scully had made the straight-faced suggestion of sawing the bird�s legs and tail off. It was a joke, of course, but Sundance had frantically squirmed until every part of her fit, no matter how uncomfortably, in the seat. Growling, he headed down the dark street. Away from the memories, away from Sundance. He tried to divert his concentration to the most recent case and succeeded, but when he realized he wasn�t moving anymore he looked around to find out where he was. The cemetery. Though Sundance wasn�t a human, she thought and felt like one. Her thought processes were hardly distinguishable from a human�s; her emotions were just as numerous as any human�s. In every sense of the word, she was human. Only her form prevented her from being labeled as one. He stared down at the granite headstone, then sat and leaned against the corner of it so he wasn�t sitting on her. Just a consideration for her, though she was dead. He tilted his head back and rested it on the cool stone, his eyes closed. � Here I am again, still coming and going even though it�s been four months and I should�ve gotten over this--over you--by now. Can�t get away from you, can I? Ironic. You used to be the one following me everywhere I went, and now it�s the other way around. Man, I miss you. You opened up the world for me just by being there. Pointing out things I never would have noticed or thought of.� He dropped his head and opened his eyes, remembering those last few painful moments, and nodded slightly. � Father. I guess so. I did feed you and give you a nest to sleep in. Not that you couldn�t have gotten it on your own, but I suppose that my providing you with that constitutes being a fatherly figure, if nothing else.� He again let his head fall back and his eyes shut. � I wish you could be here now. This case is really tough. We�ve found several patterns, but not the one that matters. I know it�s there; I can sense it. I just can�t find it. It�s driving me crazy. I don�t want another innocent to get hurt because of this guy.� There was some silence, then a gentle voice. � I knew you�d be here.� He looked around curiously, finally spotting the figure standing by a leafless tree. � What are you doing out here?� � Couldn�t sleep.� She sat in front of him. � I was worried about you.� � I�m okay.� � It�s nearly five in the morning, Mulder. That�s strange even for a night owl like you. You�re not okay.� He looked down at the grave. � I was just thinking about Sundance.� She carefully took his hand between hers and looked him in the eye. � You know she wouldn�t want you to worry about her and waste away like you are. She wouldn�t . . . And I don�t.� She gave his hand a tug as she stood. � Come on. I�ll buy you some ice cream.� � Orange Fudge Sundae?� Sundance�s favorite. � Sure, Mulder.� He got up and brushed loose grass off his pants, then took a long look down at Sundance�s grave. � I think this�ll be the last time I visit for a while. Don�t miss me too much, birdbrain. I�ll come back.� A soft breeze stirred and both felt the distinct rub of a hard beak on their cheeks and then a loving nibble. Pressure from what felt like an upper wing joint forced them to step closer together and there was very quiet laughter all around them. I will be here. And here, the wind added, touching the spot where their hearts were. I will always be near when you need me. And without me, you will defeat every obstacle together. Nothing can separate you. The breeze died and they wordlessly headed out of the cemetery, their fingers tightly laced. Once out, she asked, � Are you sure that wasn�t just a breeze? Our imaginations gone mad?� � Scully, just ditch the science and realism and accept it. Sundance spoke to us. That�s all there is to it.� He looked up at the stars, wondering which one belonged to Sundance. � I just wish she were here so we could start again; show her more things, like snow--she never saw snow, let her pick out all the obvious things in the cases that we missed . . .� Somewhere in Montana... It could hear the humans digging just outside its shell. If they weren�t careful, they would crack the egg. But the life inside the shell was not afraid and knew it would not take revenge this time. No. Not this time. This time, it was on a mission. It wriggled mightily, finding a more comfortable position inside its too-small enclosure. This time, it would find them and learn new things. Things that would make it happy and sad and angry and all the other emotions it possessed. It wanted desperately to learn. Learn anything they would teach it. It shifted again and pecked at the shell in annoyance. It was so cramped in there! Wait . . . Is that a crack? The creature pecked and fought the shell, finally forcing the thing to release it into clear, open air. It stood and ruffled its wet, barely formed feathers. It would take time to grow large enough for travel, but it would make it in time. I will find you, Father, Mother. Wait for me. Author's Note: See? Much nicer. Much more promising for the future. But don't worry. There probably won't be any sequels. <--Division 8 X-Files Index--> |