Title: Crying Author: Michelle Shuttlesworth E-mail: mshuttlesworth@yahoo.com Distribution: Anywhere, just tell me first. Rating: G Classification: V, UST Keywords: Character death Summary: Scully's thoughts on Mulder's death. Author's notes: I make mention of 5 years, but it could be at any time really, that was not meant to be case specific. Also, at the time when I wrote this, my grandmother had just died which is why it's so sad. Don't read it if you don't want to be brought to tears. That being said, I hope you like the story. Why is the world so difficult? Everything was so simple years ago. Work up the ladder at the FBI while finding a husband and having a couple kids. When did things become so complicated? I already know the answer to that question. Mulder. What is it about him that made me willing to give up my plans and my dreams? Love. I love him. I have admitted as much to myself over the past few months. At some point over the past five years, he stole my heart and never returned it. Not that I mind. It just makes his death that much more difficult to bear. Why did he die? It was a waste. In life, he was brilliant, unusual, stood out in a crowd. In death, he is cold, white, the same as anyone. Where is the justice? They told me to forget him. Forget him?! They might as well tell me to forget my body, my soul, my mind, because they are his. They have been for years, yet I try to forget anyway. I went to visit the old office yesterday. Our office. He was there. I could feel him. He was watching me. They had left it the same way it was when he last set foot in the door. As if it was a shrine to a famous, well-liked man. Instead of the office of a thorn they had been trying to dislodge from their side for years. Why did they leave it this way? They tell me to forget, yet leave the office untouched? I sat down in his chair and looked over his desk. My eyes caught on a picture of Samantha. She looked so innocent and beautiful, I had to cry. I cried over the loss of a girl and her innocence. I cried over the loss of her brother's innocence and happiness. I cried over the loss of a grown man's life. And I cried over the keeper of my heart. My eyes settled on the files and I cried for the absence of justice and truth. I cried for the hurt, pain, and deaths that I had born witness to. I cried for the families, friends, and loved ones of those people. I opened the drawer to see the sunflower seeds, and I cried for missed opportunities. I cried for never saying enough. I cried for not having told him how I felt. I cried for doubting. I cried for every time I hurt him. I cried for every time we fought. I cried for every mistake I had ever made. I cried for his death. I cried for his absence. I cried because he was not with me. I called my mom today. She asked me how I had been doing. I told her, "Yesterday, I cried." ===== Poems are windows to the soul. They are the glue that holds the rest of the world together and they are the helping hands that put our lives in perspective. You can survive without poetry, but you cannot really live until you feel its presence for poetry is in every action, it is in every word, every phrase that falls from a human tongue. It is in the movement of the oceans and the songs of birds. It is in the air and in the sun. Poetry in motion is what makes the days seem brighter and the stars look more radiant. You are poetry whether you realize it or not, you are beautiful.