Post Traumatic Stress by Eddie Edora a.k.a. XFManic
Disclaimer: "The X-Files" and the characters of Mulder and Scully are not
mine. They belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen and Fox Television. I'm
just borrowing them for the fun of it. No copyright infringement intended.
Category: V, A
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Post-"Elegy"
Summary: Scully contemplates the events in "Elegy".
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Scully's Apartment
May 4
6:37 p.m.
The phone kept ringing. It had been ringing for the past half-hour. There
would be a five-minute pause and then a whole minute of ringing.
It finally stopped. Dana Scully sighed. I'm going to have to tell him to
quit calling me, she thought. She was referring to her partner, Fox
Mulder. Who else would be that obsessive?
Scully sat on her couch staring at the medical reports strewn all over her
living room table but really wasn't interested. She couldn't get the
images from the Harold Speuler case out of her head. Seeing
"ghosts" or whatever they were did not particularly sit well. It also
didn't help that Mulder was upset at her for not telling him the truth.
But what was the truth? From what Mulder surmised, only people who were
dying saw the victims' apparitions. How in the world could she believe
that? It goes against everything that I believe in, she thought. There
are no such things as ghosts. But denying that, Scully also denies to
herself that dying is very much a part of her life.
She hadn't yet told Mulder that her cancer was spreading faster than anyone
expected. It's only a matter of months now, though she refuses to give up
searching. Scully knew that Mulder would be overly concerned and *that*
didn't sit well with her. She never wanted attention paid to her if it
meant pity or regret. During this whole trauma, Scully had taken very few
sick days.
The phone started ringing again. Maybe it's time to start taking some sick
days, she thought. "Damn, Mulder," she spoke out loud. "Don't you ever get
the hint?"
Of course not, she thought. Otherwise he would have noticed how distressed
I was through that whole case. He would have noticed that I felt
uncomfortable confiding in him. He would have noticed how...ashamed...I
was for not...trusting him.
The phone stopped ringing.
It was the worst feeling in the world. I let him down, and he was upset
with me. That's why I couldn't tell him about my cancer spreading. It
would have seemed as though I wanted him to forgive me for my lack of
faith. It's not what I wanted.
The phone rang again. She picked it up this time. "Scully."
"Hi, Scully, it's me." (Gee, what a surprise, she thought.) "Are you okay?
I've been trying to call you for the past hour."
"I'm fine, Mulder," she replied. "I've been...busy."
"Oh."
"Mulder," she began. "I'm glad you called. I've decided to take a couple
of weeks sick leave. My stamina is starting to be affected by our long
hours. I need a break. I also think it's a good idea if we just not call
each other for awhile."
"Do you...are you checking into a hospital?"
Scully was sincerely touched by his concern. "No," she replied. "I just
think that I need a break from us. *We* need a break from us."
Silence.
"Did you hear me, Mulder?"
"Um...yeah."
Silence.
"Mulder, if that's all you have to say, I need to go."
"Okay, Scully."
She almost had the receiver back in its cradle when...
"Scully!"
"What is it, Mulder?"
"I...I hope you feel better, and...I'm sorry."
Scully felt a tear roll down her cheek.
"Thanks, Mulder. I think...I *need* to go."
"Okay, Scully. I get the hint. Just promise that you call me if you need
anything."
"I promise," Scully whispered. "Goodbye."
"Bye."
She hung up the phone and promptly stared at the wall in front of her.
After a few minutes, her emotions finally expressed themselves as she
quietly cried on her sofa.
THE END
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