From: RaValliano Date sent: Tue, 10 Mar 1998 01:28:11 EST Subject: Through the Mist (1/1) by Amy I did not write this. Please direct all feedback to Amy at Idealist@sprynet.com Title: Through the Mist Author: Amy Emial: Idealist@sprynet.com Rating: R for disturbing subject matter Category: MSR(yeah like I'd right something else?) Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully and all things X belong to the god himself, Chris Carter, David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, well, and Fox and 1013 too if you wanna get technical, which they do! Note: I really want to thank Karen, my human credential, for putting up with my general bad attitude and crazed obsession, you really are the best friend person could ask for. And what note would be complete with out a huge thank you to my cyber credentials, Rachel and Gertie. Gertie, you are the brightest star I have ever known. Rachel, you are my kindred spirit (hope that wasn't too insulting!!) and I thank heaven and Mulder that I found you, always remember the love is out there and the truth is in you. Summary: To me the tragedy isn't in the dying, its in being the one that's left behind. Note: I do not per se think that Mulder would ever do this, but I think that if it were in him, only the loss of Scully to his life would prompt it. I can feel your spirit approaching me through the mist. It occurs to me momentarily that I should be slightly more cognizant of the events that are occurring around me. Documenting them, gathering evidence and proof for you, but I am incapable. I had imagined death often, and throughout the majority of my life it held no power over me. I was aware of my mortality and although I loved my life, I did not fear my death. It is shocking to me how much the addition of one person to your life can change you. I have feared my death since the day we met, the day that you had made it abundantly clear that you expect those you trusted, those you cared about beyond all others, to leave you. I made a silent promise that night, many years ago now, that I would heal you, that I would teach you to trust. Fate is cold, fate is uncaring, fate weakens even the strongest of wills. I can feel you approaching and even in this transitive state I fear for you. You must be right outside my room. I can almost see you I feel you so strongly, and yet I can not go to you. Believe me, I do try. It must be to soon, I must still be bound by the earthly constraints of space and time. It feels so familiar, it's exactly as in life. It's as if we are in a vast and crowded hall and our souls search for each other exactly the ways our eyes did in life, and once we find each other in the mist, there is no force that can interrupt our path. You have found me, although I can't quite yet see you, and you have begun that ever forward path. I wish I could stop this from unfolding before you. I never wanted to fail you. I know that you know that that was my worst fear. Just as yours was failing me, well, failing me and this. None the less, powerless, I can feel your spirit approaching ever closer. I can hear your voice, it comforts me as it strikes panic in me for you. Your tone is light. I knew you would not expect this, not today. Everything so average. We had separated early in the case, having learned long ago that while as a team we are unstoppable, we each have our strengths and the shear presence of time dictates that we must part and pursue those separate avenues . I had complained admonishing that I had not eaten all day, you of course had shouldered the responsibility for my lack of self preservation; I had never meant to insinuate it was your fault. You had promised that when we rejoined each other, you would take me for pizza. A date you had called it. Cynically I had replied that although fate would subject me to live through countless horrors with you, a date would never be one of them. Lacking a reply, you chuckled lightly as you turned you back to me and headed towards you own destiny.I wish I could have known, could have had any idea that the moment where our destinies cease to be conjoined had been upon us. I have to believe, I choose to believe, that you know everything I could have told you in that moment. Your voice is getting louder now, although its tone remains light, you are not prepared for this. I hear you ask for me. God I fear for the man you are talking to. He has no idea that he is about to destroy you. Although I can not hear his voice, only yours, he must have told you that I am gone. You don't understand, you don't accept. You ask where I went, why I didn't wait for you, if I should be driving. Classic Mulder, you can manage to make me laugh through my tears even now. Yes souls can cry, one of the many things I now know. The doctor must have explained that he had meant that I had moved on. I wonder if the medical profession that I had so proudly called myself a member of in life will ever apply the same detailed precision to their phraseology when dealing with the living as they do with the sick and the dead. Whatever he has said to you this time must have forced some understanding within you. I can feel the most horrible fear I have ever felt, it is not my fear, it is yours, it is your fear that you have finally and enequivicably heard the truth. Then the fear is gone. Damn you are good, so good at denial and repression. You do not want to believe. Your spirit is once again approaching ever closer. I sense rather than see the door to the hospital room open.. I seek blindly for you, I need to see how you will take this when understanding finally dawns for you. Then suddenly you are here, I can see you so clearly, the haze has lifted from before me and I am back with you. For a moment I allow myself to wonder if your claim on my soul is actually strong enough to have brought me back to you, back to our life. As my eyes adjust to the harshness of reality I realize that I am here as a third party, and it's a party you have already begun. You approach my body. I expect to find shock, horror and sadness etched within every line of the face I know better than my own. Instead you are smiling, you approach me as you have every other day of our friendship, your eyes take in my body with reverence, a small smile is dancing on your lips. Your arms are held behind your back and as you approach the bed I can see the little game you have intended to play. A date. The remembrance of the word is almost unbearable. Your smile grows as you present my corporeal self with the bouquet from behind your back. I can hear you lightly mocking me, laughing at the fact that I had said that fortunes would come between us and normality. You are out to prove me wrong, not out of vengeance or spite, but because that is how you and I grow and move forward. We have learned so much from each other through life, each argument, each concession made and battle line drawn broadening both of our minds and souls. Your soul is younger, I know that now, perhaps I always have. This is a lesson you need to learn to progress your soul. I thank all the heavenly forces I am still not certain exist that I had learned the lesson of loss long before our souls connected. You are far stronger than I, for it is a lesson I believe I would have never learned if it had been you that were my teacher. You have lifted up my body and propped it against your lean frame and walk me out of the room. Let me go, it is time. I have never wanted anything in life as much as I want to release you from this hell. You drive me to your apartment talking lightly and insisting that I nap on the ride home. Once convinced of my slumber you do not speak again. This is too much. You have propped me up in your chair and I can hear you ordering that pizza I had asked for in life from the other room. There were times in life when I wondered if you knew me as well as I liked to believe, if you knew my likes and dislikes, my fears and desires. I know now that you knew my to the most intimate detail. The pizza arrives and you graciously tip the deliver and usher the box to the table. You make far too big a display of presenting me your meager offering and I ache at the thought that in some deep recess of yourself you think that if you give me all that I desired in life you will be worthy enough of our trust and our commitment to bring me back. I feel a pain tantamount to the deepest earthly heartache as you prepare my plate and offer it and yourself before me. I can hear every word you say now, I am becoming more ethereal and more capable of fully experiencing my soundings.This scares me for I fear that as my ties to this earth weaken so too will my connection to you. Perfectly on cue you shift the direction of your conversation from my body to my soul. You had been explaining to me the details of your case and filling the silence with the meaningless chatter that allows you to not think, to not process what is going on around you. You were speaking to my body, occasionally mocking that fact that I should be indulging more in your recent pizza offering, especially since you made the concession to top it with all my favorites, an event that I would have classified as an x-file in my life. Yes you know me, know me well enough to know my basic tastes and well enough that your soul is able to communicate directly to mine. It is something that we took for granted in life, our silent, unspoken communication, but it is a gift that transcends both life and body. In the midst of your tirade about your case, you can bear no more and you need to know. I feel your soul seek me out as I watch your eyes find my lifeless ones longing to reaffirm that they still house the soul yours is seeking. Finding nothing, your eyes being a tireless dance around the room searching for any object to fixate on long enough to recover. Soul speaking to soul I hear you begin your search for comprehension. I hear you explain to me that the doctor had tried to tell you that I had died. That's right Mulder, I am dead. I want to coddle you to soothe you through this. I try so hard to conceive of your peace and your comfort, of wrapping you in the shelter of me and protecting you against all of it, all of the pain you have ever felt. You must feel some of the tranquillity I am attempting to instill within you for you have the strength to continue. You are walking towards my body now, your soul continuing its conversation, one that you speak audibly in the room to allow you to continue with the illusion you want to believe. You would have known if I were dead, you insist as your body approaches mine with a distance and a reverence I have rarely seen. You reach out to touch one lock of my hair, to smooth the side of my face as you painfully whisper that you would had to have known the moment I ceased to be in your world, because that would be the moment that your world would have ceased to function. Nothing would be the same would it baby, you ask me through recently formed tears. I want so badly for you to hear my answer, but I know that deep within you too know that the most painful aspect of life is the fact that at its most basic level it is immutable. Your soul has changed, your fate has changed, your life is exactly the same, you breath the same air, you live the same corporeal existence. This you are not yet willing to concede. You are whispering to me some nonsense about how they wouldn't have delivered pizza were I not in this world. Again you have made me laugh. I ache anew as that one utterance fills my soul so completely with pure emotion for you, adoration, love, respect, the word is not the issue, the fact that it is the most powerful feeling I have even known is. I am confused as I watch you take my hand in yours and bring it up as tough it were going to strike your face. Panicked that I had missed some sign of self reproach over my death I realize that you have been apologizing for calling me baby. You think that I would have slapped you had I been within myself? I would not have. How do you not know this? I am your healer, I would never consciously hurt you. Know this, please know this. I need to see that the last five years of our friendship you have understood what you meant to me, the role I have picked for myself in your life. As always you know my need and meet, exceed, it. You have stopped yourself from inflicting pain with my hand, and instead have brought my hand to your face and are stroking your cheek with it, comforting and soothing yourself, believing that I am the source of your comfort. I have never been so jealous in life as I am of my own body in death. I watch you lower my hand and climb into the chair beside me. you have completely wrapped yourself around me as you try to prop my arms around your back. You want me to hold you. I want that too, with a fierceness you can not even conceive of. I try so hard to hold you within my spirit. You are crying and the words are jumbled, I think you are still rambling about the pizza, but you have begun to understand. I am helpless in a room of tears and an unfilled promises. The mist is returning, and I will fight against it. I have not fulfilled my promise either. Even as I wage this war, I know that it is one I can not win. The mist is getting increasingly dense and your form is retreating in my souls vision. I know however that even if I am never again as close to this physical incarnation of you that I will never stop fighting for you. As I feel myself retreating into the mist I wage a war against haven and earth and good and evil, all that we fought against side by side in life, t hat we will return to our collective fight and continue our journey. Ever forward together through the mist. hate it, hate me for writing it? either way, let me know: idealist@sprynet.coom