Walking Through Doors 

Author: Straylighter 
Spoilers: DeadAlive
Keywords: V, A, maybe a little MSR 
Classification: Mid-Ep, Scully introspective 
Summary: Can Scully afford to let herself believe when she hears 
the news? 

Feedback: Chrished at big_empty_space@hotmail.com    

Notes: M'eh. No betas here, wouldn't want to suject any 
unwilling soul to this torment . Inspired by the upcoming 
DeadAlive rerun. I hadn't read anything talking about how Scully 
felt after she heard the news. If someone else has something 
like this, any similarities are purely coincidental. To be quite 
honest, I'm only posting this to see if I can actually figure 
out HOW to post. Thus, it's my first. Be nice? :) I find flames 
amusing...

Disclaimer: I'm VERY glad you're sticking around CC. You haven't 
been so good with 'em in recent times, but I s'pose I'll let you 
keep them. Not mine.

WALKING THROUGH DOORS

Three months. He's been dead for three months. The bastard. 
Three whole crying-- mourning--sickening--thisisnothappening- 
months. I buried him, went home, and sat in my living room 
watching other happier people live their lives as mine had just 
ended. 

I ate for the baby. 

I went through the motions of _being_.

And as the threat of sinking into an utter and inescapable 
depression diminished as my waistline expanded, the one single 
thing I was not prepared for has happened. 
I got a phone call. He's alive. 

But my heart still didn't start beating again. 
I wouldn't allow it.

And my world which had consisted of eating, sleeping, crying 
futile stinging damning _staining_ tears was turned upsidedown. 
How very typical of Mulder to taunt me with death for three 
months. 

The rage abates as I gain control over my dancing pre-natal 
hormones. 

And the shaking starts. I can't hope. I can't possibly let 
myself hope. 

But, God, if he is alive. If he can breath and feel and touch my 
belly and sooth my empty tear-stained ache...

If it's true. Please God let it be true. 

Skinner's standing in the corridor when I get there. 
He's going to stop me, he's going to say something; the first 
words out of his mouth will be 'It's not true. Sorry' and I'll 
just turn, and leave and go home to my empty apartment. Maybe 
pull out his shirt, the one I wore home that night such a long 
time ago. And I'll just...

Skinner does stop me. I'm desperate. I ask if it's true. 

I ready myself for his negative response.

It doesn't come. He tells me to slow down. 

I could laugh if my heart weren't jammed up my throat. 
Slow down. He wants me to fucking SLOW DOWN when my life is 
spinning, spinning like some tornado spinning dancing whirling 
crying--

I can't breathe, dammit.

"I need to see him" 

And I do. Whether he's dead or alive. I want to see him. I need 
proof. Of whatever it is that has brought me here tonight. 

Skinner won't let me go in. He's protecting me. And, for a 
moment, I fear what is in that room, and he has the advantage, 
taking my arms, telling me I can't go in. So I just fall, and 
I'm so desperate, I'm pleading. Let it be true. Please, let it 
be true.


Doggett comes out. Hilarious, this man doesn't even know Mulder. 
And HE gets to see him. Logic isn't really getting through to me 
right now. 

The look on his face. Like it's not true. But it is. 

Doggett wishes I wouldn't go in there. I almost don't want to. 
But I need to. Three months. Mulder, please. I believe in 
miracles, Mulder. Mulder. I believe.

I want to believe.

And I walk through the door.