Sent: Tuesday, August 01, 2000
Folded Like A Saint
"The Present Implies Pesence"
Spoilers: post-Requiem, but not really
Let's pretend the 8 th season won't happen.
Archive: Sure, just let me know so I can visit!
Disclaimer: Hey, guess what? They don't belong to me! Bummer.
Feedback: Pretty please? This is my first attempt and
I want to know if I should write some more!
Thanks: To Melissa, my Beta and fellow writer who inspired me.
Also to Velvit for more inspiration.
Summary: Introspection in the future leads to a shock form the past.
Time is a universal invariant. It does not
change and it cannot be rewound or made to go
faster. When my life changed irrevocably ten years
ago, I thought for sure my world, as I knew
it, would change forever and time would certainly
reverse for me, just once. But time did not
change. Or even pause for one brief second and
I was forced to move forward.
As the unexpected life in my body grew,
I hoped and prayed reverently that the one who is my
constant, as I am his, would return to me.
He did not. And as days turned into weeks and weeks
turned into months and the months in turn turned
into long years my memory began to dim and
the hope for any hope at all soon vanished.
My children grew and the quest to save
the world from the end waned. I wondered if those
men were right. Or was the end of the world
only for me? When he did not return my world
ended. My work is more mundane now,
I am a pathologist at Quantico and have a small group
of friends who pretend that the father of
my children died before they were born. If only that
My introspections of how my life has
gone came to a glass-breaking halt one day in the
brightness of a summer sun. My doorbell
rang at 1:33 on a Monday afternoon. Funny how I
always aligned him with the darkness
and the hide-and-go-seek nature of
nighttime. Melissa answered the door.
When I heard her call my name, her still
child-like voice seemed to deepen,
as if she knew this would be a pivotal
moment in time. I came down the stairs a
naive mom fumbling through the world
of the young. When I saw who was at
the door my mind clicked and
transported to ten years in the past
to when a future with him in it was
remotely possible. How I
felt; how I live, all forgotten for
a second seemed an eternity.
I felt the blood drain from my face and
Missy rushed to my side. She called for her brother.
William came from the kitchen where he was
cleaning his lunch dishes and asked what was
wrong. Funny how with their names I still
clung to the past. I said the only thing I could think
of, laden with past promises: "Mulder?"