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The morning after Mulder and Scully escape the
military prison and the pueblo hwere the Smoking Man hid and died, Mulder ponders what comes next.
Spoilers: Seasons 1 through 9, "The Truth"
Summary: The morning after Mulder and Scully escape the military
prison and the pueblo where the Smoking Man hid and died, Mulder
ponders what comes next.
Archive: Fine, okay, whatever. Gossamer preferred.
Feedback: patfiler2016@outlook.com
Disclaimer: Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Television own
the rights to the X-Files title, premise, original Myth-Arc and
original characters. I intend no copyright infringement and make
no money writing fanfiction based on these characters or the series
of which they are a part. This disclaimer shall herein apply
throughout the entire series.
5:30 a.m., Roswell, New Mexico.
The L'il Ale-i-Inn Motel Room.
The sun rises purple, red, then tangerine toward another hot New
Mexico day as I watch you sleep safely by my side. You think I'm
your Ahab to your Starbuck. If I'm Ahab, and you, as you well know,
are my compass, then where do I sail you to from here?
The seas have been rough these past few years. High waves, terrible
sea monsters and pirates in our wake.
Treasures along the way are now a mere memory, save for a couple.
We have some allies, I do believe, in Skinner, Reyes, Doggett, even
maybe Kersh. Your mother... Lord, Scully, we can't even tell your
mother you're all right. Someone else may have to most carefully tell
her of our voyages now.
At this time, YOU are my treasure, red locks across one eye, as the
sun gleams upon you. My guardian angel, my compass, my touchstone.
And you say you'd do it all over?
All the pain, rejection, abduction, dead-ended searches and casualties
that my quest created for you, for the both of us. You'd walk that road
for me? I don't DARE think I deserve that much devotion, unless you
say I do. I'd sail the seven seas forever to take back the pain, the
loss, the suffering, and the terrible ghosties that haunt your nights.
I heard one of them spoken of in your dream last night. I am a haunted
and haunting figure. I may or may not be your dream man.
For the treasure we value most, William, the miracle you have long
prayed for, is untouchable at this time. I wish I could kiss and hold
him, too, Starbuck. Dare we even look for the golden boy, we may
endanger him and ourselves. I watch you inhale and exhale, roll over,
and I see your cross.
Last night we sought the guidance and comfort of the Redeemer, the
Father's blessings and intervention in the days to come. In an effort
to fight the future ahead of mankind, it will take a higher power to
save us all. You... you have never really doubted that. Even when
university and medical school tried to educate you out of it, your
faith has remained. Your faith in God, and in me, saved me.
"Why do I even deserve it," I wonder. I find myself speaking aloud.
"Mulder?" You groan my name and open your eyes.
"Morning, Scully."
"Why do you deserve what?"
"Umm..." I struggle, but the words can't come out.
"My love? Mulder, that's old hat. Go back to sleep and stop doubting
yourself, okay?"
"You love me?" I ask. She'd never actually SAID it! I'd always known,
but never heard it from her lips.
"I do. Now go to sleep. You already told ME you loved me three years
ago from a hospital bed, and I knew anyway. Close your eyes, Ahab. Rest."
"Where do I sail us to now, Starbuck?"
"Let God be your compass this time."
She said she loved me. She will have to be now not simply a compass,
but my only love. Even before sunflower seeds and pencils on dark
basement office ceilings.
Where DO I sail us to, Starbuck? Think I need to sleep on it.
END
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