I'm confused. Where is 'you-killed-my-father-you-rat-bastard' Mulder? I
search his expressive eyes for signs of hostility or distrust, and find
none. All I see is a calm, measured gaze full of curiosity. I'm not ready
for this.
"Alex?"
Put up or shut up, Alex. "I'd like to get out of here. It's not safe to stay
in one place for too long. I have a place nearby we can use for a few days,
until you decide what to do next."
Mulder's lips twist into an amused grin. "Me?"
My sigh is long, deep, and oh, so honest. "You. I'm not playing games,
Mulder. It's all gone to hell again, and you're the only one with the
intuition and smarts to sort it out. I've pieced together all sorts of
information, but you decide what to do with it."
This statement earns me one of those rare, heart-stopping Mulder smiles.
Eyes crinkle and shine, lines disappear, and I'm stunned by the brilliance.
All too quickly, the smile disappears, and I almost get whiplash from the
mood swing. The man next to me is now quiet, introspective, and, for lack of
a better word... lost.
"What if I make the wrong choices, Alex? I haven't been exactly... stable,
recently. A few days ago, I was dead in the worst possible way. These past
few months were a horrible mixture of pain, hopelessness and fear. What
makes you think I am remotely capable of doing this?"
God. How do I reach him? I can't goad him into this, and humor would only
depress him more. I'm gonna have to go with the truth, which will tell him
far more than I want to reveal. Fuck. I hate this!
"Why do I think you can do this? Because Fox Mulder is intelligent.
Insightful. Determined. He's perceptive and intuitive, dedicated and
tenacious. He's dealt with physical trauma, emotional blackmail, betrayals
and lies, and fought back each time."
Breathe, Alex.
"Fox Mulder is a man who believes, against all hope, against all odds. And
I believe in him."
When I was dead, it was never this silent. It's not that I don't have
anything to say, far from it. I'm full of words, suffused with emotions, and
they are all fighting for release, caught in a tangle, leaving me
speechless.
Alex won't even look at me now. He resembles a young boy who has confessed
to breaking the living room window, waiting for the coming anger and
punishment.
I could really hurt him now, without raising a fist. I have often used words
as a weapon, sharper and colder than any blade. Those scars don't fade. I
know. I learned that lesson at an all-to-early age. I bet the Consortium
taught him that, too.
Instead I slowly rise from the bed. That gets his attention. I make my way
to him, my legs unsteady, but my confidence returning. He doesn't move, his
face shows a mixture of confusion and longing. I bet mine does as well.
It feels so comfortable as I put my arms around his neck. It feels so
natural to pull his body to mine. It feels so right to close my eyes and
surrender to the warmth and strength and feel of Alex. All of my
hesitation and doubt slide away easily, banished by hope.
We can do this. We can do this.
Resurrection and Redemption IV
by Ann H
"So, Alex, what do we do now?"
