You Are Here
By RocketMan

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SPOILER:::::US5::::::THE END::::::POST (again, I know, I know)
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"No longer what we were before
But not all that we will be. . .
Tomorrow, when we lock the door
On all our disbelieving. . .
I'm caught in between
The Now and the Not-Yet
Sometimes it seems
like forever and ever."
--Amy Grant, "The Now and the Not-Yet"
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When I walked in and saw it, I finally, finally, understood one basic
truth.

The X-Files are, were, my life.

And now that life is gone.

It's completely, utterly, totally gone.

Gone.

It's still echoing in my head like a bad catchy song that you hear when
you wake up in the morning.

Mulder is standing there looking just as lost as I am, but there is also
something very wrong changing in him.

He's not merely shocked and outraged, he's . . . he's gone too.

I want to touch him, let him know not everything is gone. I hold his
arms, tightly, wishing I could squeeze some life into him. I want to
shake him.

Instead I lay my head against his chest.

I can't pretend to be the strong one anymore.

I just can't.

And he can't be strong either.

It hurts when he doesn't move to comfort me. It hurts that he doesn't
even notice me.

It's like my soul has been gutted along with this office. Earlier,
listening numbly as Skinner told me that people were out to get us, that
people wanted the X-Files closed, there was always the hope that the
X-Files would always be here. That they would be waiting for us to come
back, open their depths and discover their truths. There were many
truths in those files, not only relating to Mulder's family, or my
cancer, but to science and life in general. Truths about spirituality
and beasts and genetics. Truths about things most people don't want to
even look at too closely.

And now, those are gone.

Where do we go now? Where are we headed for now? 

What nice little trip to the woods awaits us now?

I want him to answer me, to be strong and hopeful for me. I've had the
strength of his beliefs and his beliefs are me.

He is me.

And we're both dying.

The acrid stench of destruction and hell comes at me and I pull away
from Mulder this time. I pull away and head for the door, but I can't
leave.

If I actually leave, then this will actually have happened.

I stand just outside, slumped against the wall, hating my fear, hating
this sense of becoming "unstuck in time" here. I am here, and yet I can
see everything we have done and everything we should have done
unraveling before me.

I feel my knees unlock and I slide down the wall to the floor.

I can't be the strong one anymore.

I can't see a way out of this, I can't see that light at the end that
tells me we've fought the good fight.

We are nothing without each other, and "we" doesn't happen without the
X-Files. 

I let my head fall to my hands and try not to breathe in too deeply.

I always knew that this would end someday, but I hadn't really thought
it would be like this - in a flaming downward spiral.

I thought the end would be triumphant, with Mulder and I bonded together
forever, and maybe even more.

I thought the truth would be revealed and everything would change: I
could trust the government once more, we could be who and what we
wanted.

We are nothing.

I am nothing.

I am without a map in a foreign land that twists and turns and caters to
the whims of its ferocious, native beasts. The X-Files were our guide,
and Mulder . . . Mulder was the adventursome spirit that said "Don't
give up."

He has given up and I don't think I have the strength to continue.

I feel like I have lost another child.

Another . . . 

Where I am going? Where am I? Caught between this horror and the
inevitablity of the future.

And nowhere to run. No one to turn to. Truly, utterly and completely
alone.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and I look up.

"Scully, come on. Let's go home." His face is still stone.

My first thought is -- whose home? to do what?

I shake my head and push off his hands.

He squats down and there is nothing in his eyes.

"Scully . . . I need you . . . you can't give up."

I want to kill him. "You have. Why can't I afford that luxury?"

His face contorts. "I don't want to give up. I want to . . . I want to
figure out where this is going, what I want to gain from this. But
Scully, is it worth it anymore? I need you to tell me it is."

His words are anguished, brittle.

"I can't tell you that Mulder. Is it worth my life? It's not worth
yours, it's not worth losing you or me, or life, or love, or happiness,
or faith. But maybe, if we gain peace. . . maybe this can be worth
something."

He takes my hands and kisses them, just as he did in the hospital.

"It's not worth some things, but it is worth picking ourselves up off
the ground and fighting this."

"What are we fighting Mulder?"

He shakes his head. "The future . . . "

I watch his lips ghost out the words and I shiver. "But I don't want to
be stuck here . . . "

His smile smirks and I avert my eyes.

"Wherever we are, Scully, it's okay, as long as we do this together.
With us, we can do anything."

"Can we fight the future with just us?" I say and feel my doubt slip
back in.

He smiles and picks me up off the ground.

"We have to."

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end
adios
RM