TITLE: Here We Stand
AUTHOR: Spooky Jr.
EMAIL ADDRESS: CuteAndCudly@Yahoo.com
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Anywhere. Just keep my name and 
addy attached. 
SPOILER WARNING: SUZ. Before "Closure"
RATING: PG
CLASSIFICATION: V/A
SUMMARY: Fill in the blanks for SUZ. Takes place before 
Closure aired. Scully's POV.
FEEDBACK: Is cherished! It'll only take a minute, please 
let me know what you think!
SPECIAL THANKS: To my editor Melinda. You rock!


Without further ado...

"Here We Stand"
by Spooky Jr.



I stand beside him now. My hand, small and comforting, 
clutches his.

We stand here together. Alone. Side by side we take up 
silent vigil of the newly dug grave.

The funeral ended for Tina Mulder almost a half
an hour ago and yet we still stand.

We are mere inches from each other, but I think our 
thoughts couldn't be further away.

Even with the faith of my beliefs, and the abiding
rule to forgive those who trespass against us, I shall 
never forgive Tina Mulder for the emotional scars she
has left upon Mulder. Scars that will forever dig into
his soul.

I look at him and see the shell of a man that he once
was, so alive and vibrant. The light that once shined
off him so bright, now dulled into nothingness.

I gently squeeze his hand in silent plea to please
leave. To leave this grave that holds too much
hurt. Too much despair and lies. I wish I could drive
Mulder away forever. Drive him away from all this hurt
and stop the emotional rollercoaster that he is on.

When no recognition flashes across his face, I gently
begin to speak.

"Mulder?"

He turns his head and his eyes lock with mine and I almost
inaudibly gasp. There is so much hurt in those deep 
hazel orbs that it's drowned out the spark that once 
resided there. 

At that point my heart shatters and I swear I could
almost hear the pieces as they crumbled.

"Let's go home, Mulder," I say, turning and tugging lightly
on his hand upon which I still hold. 

He nods, looking back once more at his mother's
grave before retreating and following me away from the
site.

We make it to where the car is parked, ours being the 
only one remaining.

All the other's who had attended, which weren't
many, had long ago left. Went home and carried on with 
their lives. All but us. Mulder's life will never be the 
same and for that reason, neither will mine.

The ride to Mulder's apartment is an uneventful one. 
I glance at him every so often, but his position stays the 
same; staring numbly out the window, unseeing to the world 
passing by before him.

Even as we arrive at his residence he is oblivious to 
anything and everything. His body has become like an 
automatic robot, putting one foot in front of the other 
until we finally reach his apartment door.

I watch silently as he tries relentlessly to insert the key 
into the lock. The trembling of his hands making it almost
impossible and I watch as once again the key slips and 
nearly falls from his grasp.

My hand glides over his, giving it a light squeeze. His 
shaking hand calms instantly and I gently pull the keys 
from him.

"It's ok," I tell him softly. God how much I wish it were.

I let us into the apartment and watch as he instantly
heads for the couch and flops down heavily. Laying back
as if all the strength had been stripped from him.

I watch as he leans forward resting his head in his 
hands. I stay back a few moments to give him some 
time alone. Only when I hear the slow shuddering 
sobs that emanate from him do I stride over there.

His shoulders are quaking and the tears instantly well
up in my eyes. I blink quickly to hold them back, I cannot
breakdown. He needs me too much right now, I tell myself.

I kneel down in front of him, resting on my knees right 
in front of his legs. My hands slowly glide up
his arm, all the way up to his hands which still hold his 
head.

I gently pry his hands away and lean up to kiss him
tenderly on the forehead.

He looks down at me, the same hurt still residing him
his eyes. 

"Mulder, we'll get through this." I tell him softly.
Those words sound so weak to my ears. So shallow and 
I realize that no words can just wipe away the pain.

He shakes his head slightly and I expected him to repeat
the all to familiar words, 'she was trying to tell
me something.' Instead he doesn't and says something
that was very unexpected.

"I can't take this anymore."

Oh Mulder, I think, but only when he sighs and looks
at me do I realize I have spoken aloud.

"I can't, Scully. I just can't." And with those words 
the tears from his eyes begin to cascade down his
cheeks. 

Almost automatically, I reach up and brush away
the fallen tears and pull him to me. I wrap my arms 
protectively around his shaking form and hold him
tight.

This position feels all too familiar as the flash
of the night before pops into my mind; me holding him
as he cries on my shoulder.

"Mulder," I whisper, my voice slightly distorted by the 
collar of his shirt. No response from him except more 
muffled sobs.

I give up for the moment and opt for rubbing his back
in slow circles, trying to give him some comfort. Some
semblance of something to hold on to. His nerves
are like thin shreds right now and at the moment
I am grasping at them, grasping at something, anything to
keep him from going over the edge. To keep him
from falling into the dark abyss of despair and hopelessness.

We sit, as time turns fluid and I no longer care to
keep track of it. We sit silently as it passes us by
mere minute by mere minute. I sit rocking him gently,
our positions never changing.

"Mulder, look at me." 

I say it gently, I need to break this silence that has 
passed between us. 

He looks at me, his eyes almost pleading. Pleading to answer
all the questions stirring in his mind. Why'd she do it. 
Why couldn't she just tell him. His guilt forming heavily 
on his already hurting heart. 

I change positions and sit down on the couch beside him, sliding
my right arm behind his back and rest my head lightly
on his shoulder.

I close my eyes for a few brief moments and I notice I am 
unconciously rubbing his arm. I stop and lift my head
off his shoulder, taking a good look at him. 

He looks so weak right now, fragile and worn out.

"Mulder, why don't you go lay down?" I suggest.

He shakes his head no, "I can't sleep, Scully."

His voice cracks on my name and the tears in my
eyes that I thought I had gotten rid of are back.

"Please try, Mulder. For me, please try. Why don't you at
least just lie back on the couch. You don't have to go to
sleep, just lay down and relax."

He nods slowly and I stand up in order to
give him room to lie down. He stretches out on
his back, the length of his frame taking up
the whole length of the couch.

I softly sit down beside him on the couch,
running my fingers through his hair. His eyes look
up and lock with mine once again. I can see the sleep
in his eyes and I can see his struggle to stay
awake even against his feeble protests.

"Sleep, Mulder," I whisper, running my thumb
lightly over his forehead. His eyes close slowly,
his eye lashes flutter as he relents and falls into 
slumber. He breathing almost instantly evens out and
his breaths become slow and steady.

I lean down and give him a tender kiss on his forehead,
whispering "sweet dreams," into his ear. 


The End.

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