Title: Desperately Seeking
Rated: PG-13, for a naughty word.
Category: Mulder Angst, POV, Vignette
Spoilers: Duane Barry, Ascencion
Summary: Mulder works out his pain in a Journal as he looks for Scully.
Feedback: Willingly taken into consideration at firstname.lastname@example.org
Archive: Gossamer, any other nice home. Please ask.
Disclaimers: Chris Carter, Ten thirteen and Fox Studios own Mulder, Scully and The X-Files. No money is earned on my part, and I intend no copyright infringement.
Here goes. They say keeping a Journal helps a person keep things in perspective, and that when you read the things you wrote at a later date, you come to grips with things that have bothered you, and remember fondly those things that were precious, happy, or enlightening.
Perhaps this will help me sometime when I need to understand how this fits into the equation of things. I have been on a personal crusade for so long, I've lost sight of many things most people take for granted anyway, and I have definitely not stopped to smell the roses.
I feed the fish, clean out the filter once in a while, and check on the pH balance. Still, much of the time, they are here and I am out either on a case or looking for... looking for... Scully.
She was brought in to watch me and she stumbled upon something that was meant to be hidden. But everything she has seen so far began to persuade her that there was some merit to the things I have long thought to be going on with the D.O.D. and the N.S.A.
Courtesy of Duane Barry "they", whoever "they" are, have either killed her or are holding her for some reason I have yet to find. I wonder sometimes if she is with my sister, Samantha. I also wonder if she is alive.
Since she's been gone, I don't think I've felt alive. It was the same feeling as when Samantha disappeared, or was taken. I felt the same numb feeling when Scully was taken by Duane Barry. Now, everyday I search for her, and I keep my eyes and ears open. I put out word almost every damn place in the country that I am looking for this woman who has become increasingly essential as a colleague, as well as a friend.
There is a frightening sense of grief I feel when I go to the office and spend a whole day without seeing her, without being opposed on some issue. I feel empty.
I filled the emptiness for one brief night with a woman who thought she was a part of some un-holy trinity. For one night I felt alive again, and she and her house went up in flames. Ironically, the little gold cross of Scully's survived that fire, and it was returned to me. A sign not to stop searching for its owner.
On I go. Day to day hoping that I will someday be able to give that gold cross to Scully. Perhaps her mother believes I will find her more than I believe it.
A part of me can't help but wonder if someone is holding her, or has killed her, to punish me. Make someone I'm getting close to dissappear, and maybe I'll forget the reason I took this job at the X-Files Office. Well, I won't let anyone believe they have punished me for peering through the blinds of deceit and manipulation of information I so desperately want to tear open.
I owe a lot to Scully. I owe it to her to find her and hopefully find her alive. If those bastards have hurt her in any way I will hunt them down like wild game. There is not a place I wouldn't look for Scully, and there is no place the culprits can hide.
Each morning, I rise, look at myself in the mirror, and I know I face a rough road ahead. The journey is already taking its toll. For each time I find a new path that may lead me to find that woman, it is also a chance to find peace. Some day, I hope I will find even greater peace when I find Samantha.
I want to believe Sam and Scully are alive. I want to believe that there is a rational explanaton for all that we have seen; for all that has happened. I want to believe that there is a just end to thier suffering, as well as my own.
Until then I am desperately seeking.
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