Date: Fri, 13 MAR 1998 00:26:11 GMT From: gaga Subject: NEW - Shallow Water (1/1) by G.Anderson TITLE: Shallow Water (1/1) AUTHOR: G.Anderson (gaga) E-MAIL: fountain@interlog.com RATING: PG CATEGORY: V, A, MSR SPOILERS: Vague 4th season ARCHIVE: Freely, just keep me posted. I'm a protective mommy and I like to know where my children are playing. DISCLAIMERS: Fox Mulder doesn't belong to me, he belongs to Dana Scully Actually, both he and Scully belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, Fox Television, etc. I have lovingly borrowed these characters for my own selfish needs and I promise to return them when I'm done (Well, maybe not Mulder. I might keep him ). "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" (which appears twice in this piece) belongs to T.S. Eliot, but he's dead so I don't think he'll mind much if I borrow his little masterpiece for a while. SUMMARY: A look into the mulderpsyche via a dream. THANKS: Many thanks to my wonderful and talented editors, Hindy Bradley, BeckyD, and Sabine. DEDICATION: To my soul sister Sabine - "We were made from the same batch of star-stuff" *** "Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare eat a peach? I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me. I have seen them riding seaward on the waves Combing the white hair of the waves blown back When the wind blows the water white and black. We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed in seaweed red and brown 'Till human voices wake us, and we drown." *** I believed the lie. And in my ignorance I became a willing participant in the duplicity I so arrogantly fought to uncover. A misguided prophet preaching the faith of demons. Devoting years of my life, of Scully's life, to the pursuit of an illusion. Running at breakneck speed down a clouded path in search of 'the truth'. A fruitless chase that has flung me further back than forward. And it was neither the momentum of the pace, nor the promise of some heroic victory, that kept me running for so many years. It was simply faith, blind faith that, in the end, I would find the answers I sought. The answers I wanted. So blinded was I by this Faith that when the voice of reason whispered in my ear, I failed to hear it. A selfish journey at the end of which I found only pain, and suffering, and a belief shattered by a truth I did not wish to find. I am now left the shell of a man, paralyzed by the fear that I no longer know where I am going. Paralyzed by the knowledge that in my foolish wisdom I chose this path, and brought pain to the one I fought so desperately to protect. Paralyzed by the fear that my journey begins anew. That the journey is meaningless, and that the journey may leave me utterly alone. *** For the past several months my life has been led in a state of catatonia - a numbing of the senses in atonement for my sins. I watched Scully's life being torn asunder by a disease whose name I can now only mention in a penitent whisper. I watched her bravely piece together the shattered remains of this life, only to see it ruptured once more by a small child - a daughter - whose fate was always in death. I watched as the consequences of my conceit unfolded before my eyes. Left impotent by the guilt I have carried ever since Until I realized I had never really *seen* the sea. *** "And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! Smoothed by long fingers, Asleeptiredor it malingers, Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me. Should I, after the tea and cakes and ices, Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed, Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter, I am no prophet-and here's no great matter; I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker; And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, And in short, I was afraid." The methodical routine, which consumed my days, also filled my nights It began as a night of anxious serenity. With each passing moment, every nerve in my body was acutely aware that the calm found inside this dream was fleeting. Wishing it would last forever, knowing it would soon be torn away. And as I stood at the end of a rocky pier, I prayed that the slick rocks beneath my feet would support the weight of a body burdened by time. Of a darkened soul in a graying watery landscape. A solitary figure, under a sky of torn silk fixed above a sea seemingly hesitant of which direction it should flow. If somehow, someone had chanced upon this dream world, surely they would have thought it an ominous sign. But to me, this was a night that held questions posed in riddles, and an answer that came as a revelation. Desolation held my salvation. And there I stood for what seemed an eternity, looking out, and beyond, the sea. The salty mist piercing my eyes. Testing my resolve and distorting my perception. Creating an impressionistic vista of muted tones. A bleak vista broken only by the hypnotic quiver of copper streaked along the water's surface. My eyes pursued the copper trail, seeking the origins of this shocking stain. And as my eyes began to focus I realized that the sight before me was of my Scully's hair, tranquilly bobbing across the water's edge. Perhaps in a fit of newly found skepticism, I dismissed the image as another illusion. Until a pale face and eyes of crystal blue turned to meet my stare and I realized that Scully was drowning. Aphrodite rising from the stormy sea, only to be callously pulled back down again. Out of my reach. And in an instant I was by her side. Frantically clutching. First a hand, then an arm. And just when I thought I had her firmly in my grip, she slipped away. Her face serene as the tempestuous surf engulfed her. I let my body fall limp, surrendering to the undertow I had so desperately fought against. And in this watery deep I found my Scully, the trace of a smile playing across her face. Her delicate hands reached out and caressed my face before sliding along my arm and resting in my hand. And as she took hold of me, she began to stand. Lost in my vain illusions, I had failed to realize that it was only shallow water. *** Now I stand here, at the end of a rocky pier, looking out upon an endless expanse of water, beyond the horizon, towards the rising sun. I can feel her near, her hesitant approach. She's coming to meet me here, on a cold winter morning, at a time when we should both be in bed sleeping. She's coming to meet me simply because I called and asked. Without question, she comes. "Mulder?" Her voice is as hesitant as her pace. I turn to greet her and am met by a beatific face taut with worry. And eyes, always searching. Perhaps for a sign that I've finally lost it, fully and completely. And then she sees it, the change, and she knows. A faith restored. Not a word needs to be spoken; she's seen it before, in herself. She knows. And her smile is heavenly. "Mulder?" A question remains. No one deserves the answer more than she does. And with the clear voice of a man who knows he speaks the truth, I tell her "I just realized that the water only looks deep". Her hand reaches out to meet mine and I know she understands. *** I have heard the mermaid singing. She sings for me. THE END