***DISCLAIMER***: All "X-Files" elements and references in this story belong to Fox Broadcasting, Chris Carter, and 1013 Productions, and I am making no money from it. ARCHIVING: Link only, please! ========== Answers: The Choice by shannono shannono@iname.com Vignette, Mulder Angst, Mulder/Scully UST Rated PG Spoilers through "The Red and the Black" Summary: Mulder considers his options. Companion piece to "Answers: The Dream" ========== Answers: The Choice by shannono Fox Mulder lay on his back, staring at the fake stucco ceiling above his head, illuminated by the blue light streaming from the television. His eyes glazed over as he studied the play of light and shadow bouncing across the textured surface. Only because he was trying to avoid the conversation he'd been having with himself in his head. He blew out a long breath, then paused at a noise from the room next door. He concentrated, then realized it was running water. *Scully must've gotten thirsty,* he thought. He considered going over to the adjoining room's door and knocking, just to check on her ... He stopped himself. "Yeah, Mulder," he muttered under his breath. "You *know* how she feels about that." He sighed again and turned onto his side, studying the patterns on the cheap motel wallpaper. He was itching to move around, but the tiny motel room didn't allow room for pacing, and he didn't really feel up for a run. He blew out another breath and squeezed his eyes shut. *Why is it that every time I think I know the answers, somebody goes and changes the questions?* he thought. Pictures played across the insides of his eyelids, the curse of a photographic memory. He'd seen too much, endured too much, and his brain was reaching overload. He could no longer shut down. Sleep might be overrated, but he sure did miss it when it wouldn't come. Resigned to another long night, he pushed himself upright in the bed, propping a pillow behind his back as he leaned against the headboard. He stared, unseeing, at the infomercials running on the television. In their place, he saw ... lies. Lights in the sky over a secret Idaho military base. An empty chamber which had supposedly held an EBE. Shapeshifting men. Clones. A boxcar full of bodies. A tiny metal chip in a tiny metal vial. Mulder dropped his head to his chest, sliding his eyes shut again. Had everything he and Scully had uncovered in the past five years been a lie? Had everything they'd lost been for nothing? Mulder's head snapped back up, and his jaw clenched. "No," he said aloud. "Not for nothing. I won't let it be for nothing." He knew. Suddenly, he knew. They had a choice. They didn't have to take it. But ... not they. He, alone. She had already told him there were some places she couldn't follow, and he could never ask her to go with him. Not there. He couldn't ask her to quit the Bureau. But he could do it. He considered the thought. He had some money saved up. His salary was good -- not great, but good -- and his father had left a bit when he died. He didn't spend much, beyond some decent suits for work. He rarely cooked, and most of his meals were eaten on the road and charged to his expense account. He could do it. He could spend a few weeks doing research, gathering as much information from the X-files as possible, then he could turn in his resignation and go it alone. The Gunmen would always be there to help him out, and he could probably convince Scully to do some occasional forensic work for him on the side, when it was necessary. It could work. He'd be free to go and do what he needed to, without worrying about conforming to Bureau policies. He'd have to be careful; the Consortium would likely be less concerned about taking out a private citizen than they would be about targeting a federal agent. All this went through his mind in a matter of seconds. But his mind caught on one last thing. Scully. He'd have to leave Scully. Scully would understand, he tried to convince himself. Or would she? ==========END==========