Title: Forget About Me (1/1)
Rating: PG
Author: Janna
Feedback: PLEASE!!!  raptorguts@yahoo.ca
Disclaimer: Characters of Mulder, Scully, Skinner, and Doggett belong 
to Chris Carter and 1013
and Fox.  Everything else is from my own mixed up life, which is, by 
the way, a nonprofit
organization :)

Notes: MSR, SDR. AU  In this story, "TINH" and everything after it, 
in fact, did not happen.
It's safe to say that the only spoilers here are for "Without".  This 
is my take on Mulder's
homecoming.  Mulder POV

Pre-Story Liner Notes: My first real fanfic!  Anyway, I normally am 
the MOST FANATICAL
fan of Doggett!  I can't get enough of the guy, but this story just 
wouldn't leave my mind, so
even though it is SDR, I have to admit I'm not altogether kind to him 
here.  Robert Patrick,
wherever you are, please forgive me.  I still love you.

********************************

I open my eyes, and they burn from the lack of light.  Why is it so 
dark here?  Why so dark? 
Where am I?  Where.....  Scully!   Scully!

"Scully!"  I cry her name into the darkness.  Slump down onto my 
knees.  Claw at the ground,
begging to be let free.  I can't see my hands, am not even sure I 
feel them any more.  Maybe it's
just air around me, and I'm falling, falling, falling away.

"Scully!"  I shout again and again, not noticing that my voice does 
not echo back to me a
thousand times over.  I'm not there anymore, but I don't know that 
yet.  I don't know anything. 
I don't exist anymore.  I close my eyes, and it feels brighter.  I 
wrap my arms around my naked
body, and curl up on the ground, if there even is a ground below me.  
Don't feel a ground.  Just
the burning all over me.

I think I fall asleep, although maybe I wake up, and the rest was a 
dream.  I can't tell the
difference anymore, because both my dreams and my reality revolve 
around one word - Scully.  I
don't know anything else.  I speak her name over and over again, when 
I'm awake and when I
dream.  Maybe I'm really not awake or asleep.  Maybe I'm living in 
that place in the middle, that
place just before you fall asleep, and you become afraid that you 
won't wake up ever again.  I
think that's it.

I lift my hand to rub my eyes.  They still burn, but not as much.  Is 
that good or bad?  I'm afraid
to answer myself.  I think I open my eyes and look up, although it is 
so dark, so dark, I don't
really know what I am doing, or where I am looking.

"Scully!"  I don't know any other words.  I'm afraid they will 
return, and take away my voice so
I can't say her name anymore, but I'm more afraid I will forget how 
to say it, so I scream
anyway.  
I wonder if I'm dead.  Maybe I'm supposed to be.  

My throat burns, feels blistered and raw.  I don't think I can scream 
anymore, but I will try. 
"Scully!.......  SCULLY!"  I feel myself fall to the ground, and feel 
dirt crowd beneath my
fingers.  It is cold, but not as cold as the air, which moves through 
me.  I lay on the dirt, try to
cover myself with it, but am only able to crumble a few handfuls on 
my stomach before I forget I
have hands and give up.  I stare upwards, knowing that somewhere up 
there is the sky, even
though it hides itself from me.  Then I see it.

I blink my eyes once, twice, suddenly wishing I knew if I was awake 
or not.  I must be awake.  I
would never dream something this amazing.  

I see a pinprick of light.  A small spark of good in all this 
darkness saturating me.  It takes longer
than it should for me to realize it is a star.  "Scully..." I whisper 
softly.  She heard me, and sent
me a star.  I smile, and feel my whole body come alive again.  Scully 
is here, close by.  I will find
her.

I stumble to my knees, then slowly stand up, only to fall down 
again.  I feel like a child, taking
my first steps, except now there is no one here to hold me and help 
me.  Scully is too far to take
my hand and walk with me.  I have to walk to her.  Looking up at my 
star (it looks so much
brighter now), I stand again, and slowly take my first step.  Then I 
take another, and another. 
The ground beneath me is cold and hard.  No longer dirt.  Something 
else.

I look up again, whisper her name over and over.  I don't see the 
lights behind me until it's too
late.  A loud noise.  I turn, and am paralyzed.  They found me!  I 
want to run, but am unable to
feel my body.  I don't know how to move.  I close my eyes, and the 
lights get brighter.

Then they're gone.  They're gone.  They never were here.  I turn, and 
see a large truck backing
up toward me.  A door opens.  Too bright.  Too bright!  I bring my 
arm up to cover my eyes.

A large, beefy man with a moustache that is too small looks out at 
me.  His face is so big it looks
comical.  "Hey, buddy!" he calls.  "You all right?"

I'm not dreaming.  I'm not dead. I'm home. These sudden thoughts rush 
through me with such
force that I fall to the ground.  I barely see the man jump from his 
truck and rush to my side. 
Suddenly I can see everything.  Scully's star is not the only star in 
the sky, but there are hundreds
of sparkling souls, all of them waving.  But it's nothing compared to 
the million lights of the city
on the horizon.

The man has removed his jacket and placed it over my shoulders, is 
rubbing my back, talking to
me in words I had almost forgotten.  "You okay?  Can you speak?  Do 
you know who you are?"

I open my mouth, but can't speak.  I wave my hands, trying to say all 
that I wanted to.  He nods. 
"Can you stand?" he asks.  I lean on the man, and slowly, once again, 
get to my feet.  He grabs
me around the waist and walks me over to his truck.  The back of his 
truck is overflowing with
stuff.  A TV, a vacuum cleaner, a card table, sports bags, bike 
helmets, boxes upon boxes. 
Propping me up against the passenger seat, the man rummages though 
the back of the truck, then
comes back with a beer and a garbage bag.  

He snaps open the beer and hands it to me, and I drink like I've 
never tasted liquid before.  It fills
my throat and I feel it travel through me.  The man smiles at me, and 
I wonder if he has another
beer. He speaks, "I should probably give you water or something, but 
I'm afraid I'm just a beer
kinda guy.  Don't carry much else."  My voice comes back.

"Thanks," I say, and my throat hurts again.  I quickly finish the 
beer, and the can slips from my
fingers.  He smiles again, then rips open the garbage bag to reveal 
clothes.  I am naked.  I had
forgotten, and suddenly feel embarrassed. He hands me a pair of baggy 
black sweats, an ugly
orange sweater and an old pair of Nikes.  They fit perfectly.  

As I pull his jacket back on, he asks, "So, what happened?"

I open my mouth to tell him, then freeze.  If I tell him, he may 
think I'm crazy.  He may leave me
here.  I need Scully.  Scully! I hesitate, then say the only thing 
that makes sense to me.  "I think I
got kicked out of a bar."  It sounds lame, and I wait for the man to 
laugh and kick me back to
the side of the road, seeing right through me, but he doesn't.  He 
helps me into his truck, climbs
in himself, and says, "Looks like you got it rough."  My brain spins, 
thinking of a story that
would work.

We start driving toward the city with the million lights.  "I was 
just having a beer after work, nice
and easy," I say, "when I see my girlfriend walk in with some ugly 
idiot.  I tried to convince him
to leave," I wave down at myself, "but I guess he was determined to 
be there."

"Tell me about it," the man says.  "Happens to me all the time."  I 
stare at him, more than 250
pounds, and laugh.  "I'm Tom, by the way," he said, offering me a 
hand.  I shake it with as much
energy as I could grasp.

"Fox Mulder."  I haven't heard my name in what seems like forever.  
It sounds strange and
foreign.  Scully is the only name that matters.

"So, where are we, anyway?" I ask, scared of the answer.

"Just outside the city," he responded.  "I'm staying the night in 
Georgetown, and am off to New
York tomorrow.  Why?  Where're you headed?  I'll drop you off."

There is only one place.  "Georgetown."

******************

It is almost morning when we pull up outside Scully's apartment, and 
I stop breathing.  I feel her
so close.  I feel her breath.  I don't need to breathe when she is so 
alive, breathing for the both of
us.  I vaguely remember turning and thanking Tom, shaking his hand.  
I don't notice that he has
put a twenty dollar bill in my hand, even though I put the money in 
my pocket.  I don't remember
getting out of the truck and him driving off.  All I know is Scully.  
Her face.  Her eyes.  All of
her.  That's everything in me.  

I look at her apartment window, and see her shadow walk past it.  All 
of my injuries are gone.  I
walk faster than I tell myself to.  I am at her door before I even 
realize the front steps.

The door to her apartment is my favorite door in the world.  I can 
live forever by this door,
because I know what is on the other side.  I forget how to knock.  
Instead I just stand there,
reliving every moment I have ever stood here.  I think I have stood 
in this hall for hours.  She
never knew how many times I would just stand outside her door, afraid 
to knock, but more
afraid to leave.  It was my haven, my safe place.  It still is.

I remember how to knock, and raise my hands, rapping on the door 
three times.  I don't know
how to prepare myself for this moment.  Waiting here was like dying.  
The door opens, and I see
her brilliant red hair.  My favorite color.  I stare at her face 
and...... it isn't her.

It isn't her.

My heart cracks in two.  My brain separates from my body.  I fall to 
the ground without actually
moving an inch.  Before me stands a young woman, mid-twenties.  She 
has Scully's hair, but is
taller, rounder.  Her lips are thinner, her nose different.  She 
isn't Scully.

"Can I help you?" she asks.  I stutter, my world falling apart.  I'm 
more lost than I have ever
been.  Her face changes.  "Are you okay?" she asks quietly.  I try to 
shake my head yes, but end
up just wobbling.  She grasps my hand, and her touch burns like a 
poison.

"You're freezing!  Come inside."  She pulls me in.  It's not Scully's 
apartment.  It is, but it isn't. 
The place is done in blues, with green couches and some striped 
walls.  The TV is bigger, the
carpet smaller, no plants.  She pulls me to the couch, pushes me 
down.  I look around, feel dizzy. 
Everything blurs.  A steaming cup finds it way into my hands.  I 
drink without tasting.  It's not
that strange.  I'm living without feeling.  

She sits down on the coffee table opposite me, pushing papers to the 
floor.  She asks again. 
"Are you okay?"

I say the only words I know.  "Dana Scully?"

She smiles, and rests her hand on my knee. I vaguely recall thinking 
that she was flirting with me.
"I'm Sara.  I got this place from Dana Scully three years ago.  Can I 
help you?"

I'm too shocked to be offended by her patronizing tone.  Three 
years.  Three years.  Three years! 
I shake my head, not believing.  This is not how it's supposed to 
happen.

I try to smile, try to look normal, try to look like my life doesn't 
hinge on the answer to what I
am going to ask.  "I feel kind of stupid.  I came straight here from 
the... airport.  Do you know
where I can find her?"  She stands up and walks to the kitchen.

"She left me one of her cards with her new address on it.  It's funny 
you stop by, actually."  She
starts rummaging through drawers, one at a time.  I pick up my drink 
and sit down at the kitchen
table.  "She left me her address saying that she was sure she forgot 
to tell people she was
moving, and wanted them to be able to find her.  She made it sound 
like I would be getting
hundreds of people looking for her, but you're the first."

I try to smile casually, but can't get over three years.  "That was 
three years ago?" I ask, still not
sure of what I heard.

"Yeah, when she got married."

I wonder how many times a man can die inside while his body stays 
alive.  I have lost count of
the number of times my body has ceased to function, my heart quit 
beating, my lungs no longer
take in air.  This is the only time I'm afraid I will not recover.  
And still Sara talks.

"She and her son moved to her husband's place in Falls Church."  She 
started to go through a
new drawer, shuffling and pulling out three years of papers and 
junk.  "What was his name?....  I
can't remember his last name."  She laughed to herself, as if it was 
truly amusing.  "You'd think
I'd remember.  It was such a crazy name."  

I sipped from my mug, realizing it was hot chocolate.  I don't know 
it is was good or not.  I
don't care.  I need to know.  I smile at Sara, try to act normal, try 
to act as if everything around
me is not crumbling away.  "What happened?"

She turns to face me.  She looks more like Scully now, in the 
kitchen, relaxed.  Her nose is the
same after all.  "Well, they got married a week before, I think.  
Anyway, she was set to move out
on the last day of the month, and I guess I was to move in on the 
first.  But I was 24 and a
student and, of course,  oblivious to reality that surrounds me and 
showed up on the morning of
the thirtieth.  As you can imagine, they were surprised to see me."  
She turned to continue
looking for the card, and resumed her story.

"Anyway, she had her husband... John, I think.... and a bunch of 
friends, and I was all by myself
in a new city, so I helped her moving her stuff out in the morning, 
and they all stayed to help me
unpack in the afternoon and evening.  John even helped me put up my 
shelves and set up my TV,
while Dana practically organized the rest of the house.  They were so 
nice.  I couldn't believe it." 
She turned to me, as if wanting me to reaffirm how perfect they 
were.  I smiled.  "You see, I was
new in the city, for the first time really on my own.  I imagined 
people here to be horrible and all
murderers or rapists or something.  It was a great shock to find them 
to be normal.  Aha!  Here it
is." 

She pulled out a small card and handed it to me.  It was one of 
Scully's business cards.  The FBI
logo was blazoned across its corner, with the name "Dana Katherine 
Scully" in bold print.  On
the back, in Scully's beautiful handwriting, was her address.  "I'll 
just copy it down for myself,"
Sara said, smiling too much, taking it back and jotting down the 
information on a small notepad
with kittens on it. She was definitely flirting with me.  She 
finished, handed the card back to me,
and stuffed the paper back in the drawer, to be lost again.

"How old was her son?" I ask. I was afraid again.

"I dunno.  He looked about two, I would say."  I am suddenly 
desperate to know what date it is,
but know I can't ask.  My eyes scan the room for a calender, and see 
one, tacked to the fridge
door.  September, 2006.  Which means that she had her son almost 
right away.  Which means it
could be....

I want to cry, but don't want to stay here anymore.  "What was his 
name?"  I choke out, feeling
the tears come.  I turn my face.  She notices anyway.

"William, I think," she says softly.  "They all call him Will."  I 
raise my hand to my eyes, and find
once again that they are burning.  Sara walks over and rests her hand 
on my shoulder.

"Will you get there all right?  Do you need some money for a cab?"  I 
say nothing, but she walks
away, and returns with fifteen dollars.

"Good luck," she says, and I know she understands.  I look around the 
apartment once more,
seeing all of my memories under this new exterior.

"Thanks," I say, as she walks me to the door.  Impulsively, I turn 
and pull Sara into my arms for
a brief moment.  I need the contact.  I need to hold someone in 
Scully's apartment one more
time.  I know I will never be here again.

"Thanks," I say again, and walk out the door.

*************

I check the address three times from across the street.  It can't 
be.  The place before me is a
house.  Scully lives in a house.  She got her dream.  It is a house 
with a fence.  She has a family
now.  She has everything I did not give her.  The sun is setting 
beside the house, and it almost
looks like heaven.  It looks perfect.

A red truck pulls up, and a man steps out of the driver's side.  He's 
an average build, average
height, average haircut. Well dressed.  Normal.  I know without any 
other proof that this is John.
A man gets out of the passenger side of the truck, carrying a grocery 
bag, and I am somehow not
shocked to see it is Skinner.  I don't think much else will surprise 
me now.  The front door to the
house opens, and there she is.

Scully.

My beautiful Scully.

I have never seen her more beautiful.  Ever.  Her hair practically 
shines in the setting sun.  She
wears a light green V-neck shirt and blue jeans and sandals.  She is 
smiling like she never smiled
for me.  I hear her call out, "Did you get everything?  Everyone's 
waiting."  Her voice is angels
singing to me.  Skinner calls out something I cannot hear, then John 
pulls Scully, my Scully, in
his arms and lifts her up in a hug, twirling her around until I hear 
her laugh with joy and the
sound pierces my heart and I think I bleed inside.  They kiss, and I 
turn away, unable to watch. 
They all disappear inside the house and I cry.

I can't stay still.  I start to walk, not thinking where I'm going, 
but knowing full well where I was
headed. My body starts to ache all over.  I'm not sure if it is from 
before, or if it is from my heart
melting away.  I turn the corner and walk down the alley until I am a 
short distance from her
back yard.  It is a barbeque.  A real normal people back yard 
barbeque.  Scully is there, and John
and Skinner, and other people I can only assume are the perfect 
friends Sara told me about and
there.....

In Scully's arms is a boy of about five years old. He has brown hair, 
and is wearing a white shirt
under blue overalls with a patch on the knee.  William.  Scully's 
son.  My son.  Scully walks over
to John, and Will reaches out to him.  He holds him close, both of 
them close, and I hear their
laughter and see them and realize I can stand no more.

Scully!  My wonderful, amazing, unstoppable Scully.  Don't you know 
I'm here?  Don't you
know that not a second went by when I wasn't thinking your name?  You 
are my whole world,
universe, stars and heavens.  I never forgot about you.

Why did you forget about me?

I turn and walk away, knowing I will never come back again.  Maybe 
I'll go to New York and
find Tom and drive in his truck forever.  Maybe I'll go back to 
Sara's and never leave that
apartment ever again.  Maybe I'll just walk and walk and not stop.  
It doesn't matter anyway.  

I'm already dead.

************

FINIS


Well, that's it.  If you like it, PLEASE let me know!  
raptorguts@yahoo.ca  If you hated, it, you
can keep your comments to yourself.

And, just as a final reminder, I do adore Doggett, but I have adored 
Mulder for seven years, and
thought I should consider him as well.