Date:   October 1998
Category: V; A, M/S UST implied, Muldersadness.

Rating:   PG 13 -  for mild violence and disturbing thoughts.

Spoilers:  A slight one for 'Duane Barry', but come on, who hasn't
seen that?!!
Archive:  Archive anywhere, as long as you keep my name attached.
Please let me know.

Summary:  Hum. It's a short vignette about Mulder's fears realized.

Dedication:  This one is for Catatonia, a British band whose song
"Mulder & Scully" is a must. (available on the record "International

Disclaimer:  Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, are the property of The Master
Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, Fox Television, as well as writers and
actors. No infringement is intended.

Feedback:  Please, feel free to drop me a line. Nice comments and even
flames will be appreciated. I believe in constructive criticism and I’
m open to any suggestions: Email me here:
Comments: Oh, you guys are gonna hate me for this one but read until the end (it's short enough, you can do it) for closure. *** *** CATATONIA (1/1) by Lili Blue Mulder slumped down on the rumpled mattress then winced from the pain as his catatonic eyes remained unfocused. His long fingers traced furrows in his tick hair and he scratched a tiny wound at his hairline. Blood smeared his fingertip and he was soon rewarded with the nasty memory of Scully's abduction. He had actually had her blood on his hands before. Now, figuratively as well as literally, he had his partner's blood on his hands. He remembered her vividly, as if he had just taken her life away two days ago. But it had been 2 weeks. And 9 failed suicide attempts later. Her hair was deep red and smooth, although he could not really see it properly due to his color-blindness. He wondered how long it would stay that way now that she was in her grave. She would never grow old enough to look gray for anybody now. Just for him. He looked down at his shaking hands and remembered that her blood poured black against the luminous blue steel of the blade he had twitched inside her. He had felt the pain of her betrayal every day, every second of his miserable existence. So he had come to confront her, to murder her lover, the promised husband he loathed to extremes. And get her back. Walking the thin line that separated a driven workaholic from insanity. He had tripped down. Scully had always been brave. And bravely she had thrown herself in front of her fiancée to save him from the madness of her beloved partner. Looking at her lover on the floor, knocked unconscious, then at the face of her murderer, her questioning eyes focused on his liquid hazel pupils, she had slowly died in Mulder's arms. He had cradled her face tenderly then let her go, softly, tears dripping from his face and mixing with her flowing blood. He had called 911, waited for the police to take him to Hell and hadn't uttered a word since then. Now, sitting on this old bed, keeper of other inmates' secrets, Mulder felt his throat tighten and hoped the vision of Scully clasping her small hands around it would be enough for him to die, right there, right now. He began to choke, holding his breath, suffocation was next door - come on, Mulder, you can do it, drown yourself into your regrets but you try to go up, go out, at the surface, at the surface, near… "Ugh!" Fox Mulder woke up with a start. Sweating, choking. Such a horrendous, mad nightmare. And like always, the urge to call Scully overcame the nightly hour. The buzz lasted forever. Then a rough voice. "Hello?" Silence. "…Mulder?" "I…needed to know you were alright." Ruffled sounds and an alien voice. In Scully's bed. "Shh…Mark!…" Her voice covered. "I'm here Mulder. It's almost one in the morning…Are you okay?" Barely concerned. "Yeah, yeah, I'll see you tomorrow." Stoic. "Try to get some sleep, okay." Sure. Fine. "Whatever…" he mumbled before turning his phone off. Mulder slumped down on his rumpled couch then winced at the pain as his catatonic eyes remained unfocused. FIN *** *** Yeah, yeah, I used an old device but, eh, premonition anyone? Comments?

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