TITLE: Flying Casual
AUTHOR: Rhetta
RATING: PG-13
CLASSIFICATION: Vignette; Mulder POV
DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just let me know.
FEEDBACK: pindaran@hotmail.com
SPOILERS: 'The Truth'
DISCLAIMER: Mulder and the rest of the 'X-Files' belong to Chris
Carter, 1013, and FOX. David Duchovny belongs to himself.
SUMMARY: What's there to fight for, besides the future?
AUTHOR'S NOTE: A big thanks to sallie for the great beta help.
**********
"Keep your distance, though, Chewie, but don't look like
you're
trying to keeping your distance...I don't know. Fly casual."
-Han Solo 'Return of the Jedi'
**********
It's not her. I know that. And I readily accept the fact that
no
amount of wishing can make it her. But still, like some Pavlovian
dog, when I see red hair I turn toward it.
NotScully smiles at me. It's a polite smile meaning nothing.
It
doesn't reach her eyes. I can't blame her. Mine doesn't either.
She's just another faceless person in a sea of faceless
people.
I couldn't even tell you what color her eyes are. I'm staring at
her
and I couldn't even tell you. They're all starting to bleed
together.
That should worry me. It used to.
All I know is it's not Scully. None of them are.
I still don't know why I'm doing this. Why I don't just scrap
it all
and go back to get Scully and William. To hell with the Future.
Let
it fight for itself.
Then again, William is the future. He's our son. I can't just
sit
back and let the world end because it doesn't go the way I want,
can
I?
I wasn't there for the pregnancy. I wasn't there for the
birth. But
I held my son in my arms when I did get there, and held Scully
while
we both cried. I know what's worth fighting for. Who is worth
fighting for.
Maybe the world isn't worth saving now. Maybe I'm not worth
saving.
William is. And Scully.
I'll fight for them.
Or, as the case usually is, get my ass kicked for them. I've
gotten
pretty good at it over the years. I'm about ready to turn pro.
Today will probably be a big step in that direction. I got a
cryptic
message saying I'd find what I'd been searching for at the Mount
Weather Complex in Bluemont, Virginia. They sent a map and code
key,
even an ID and a few passwords, mentioned a good opportunity to
go
too. Now I'm not an idiot. I know it's at best a dead end, at
worst a trap. Hell, it might even be a clever combination of the
two.
Either way, I don't care. I'm going anyway. Besides, I haven't
had
my ass kicked in a few weeks. I'm due.
With fatherhood comes responsibility. And apparently the loss
of
common sense.
After all, what if it's what I've been searching for, what
Scully
and I have been searching for? I would say it might even be the
key
to everything that's in the X-Files, but then so was Gibson. So
were
a lot of things, a whole lot of things.
Fact is, I don't need to find the key anymore. I just need to
find
the damn door to use it on.
Which is where NotScully and her List Of Those Who May Pass
comes in.
She glances down at said list. A frown appears. "Only five
people
are listed here." She looks back at me with a raised
eyebrow. It's
not even close to Scully's little maneuver. She probably has that
thing patented. "What was your name again?" NotScully
asks.
I sigh in a pretty damn good approximation of weary annoyance
and
take out my new Consortium-Friendly ID. Either this will get me
on
the helicopter, or it will get me killed. I couldn't tell you
which
I'm rooting for at the moment.
NotScully leans closer to get a better look. Her eyes widen
after a
moment and she looks back at me. "Oh." She straightens
quickly. "Mr.
Grant, I'm very sorry. I wasn't aware this was a special trip. No
one informed me. I'll add you to the list immediately." She
motions
me towards the large doors leading to the field.
I smile and head outside. I guess it's a Consortium-Very Friendly ID.
By the time I reach the helicopter, everyone else has boarded.
I nod
at the others as I strap in.
I came back from the dead with nothing to show for it and
nowhere to
fit in. I let the X-Files slip away from me without a fight. I
didn't see the point anymore. They got me without even having to
really try. Hell, I helped.
I look out the window as the helicopter rises. Finally, some
progress is being made. It's been a year of wandering in circles.
A year with no hope. A year without Scully and my son. That
changes
now.