Title: Haze Author: Susan E-mail: touchstone98@tx.rr.com Classification: post-colonization vignette, a moment of hope in a world of chaos Episode: none, though I envisioned this taking place a few years after The Truth Rating: PG for disturbing images Archive: No archive without permission. Disclaimer: These characters belong to each other, not me. Notes: It's been years since I wrote a post-col vignette or even thought about writing one. It's sad and dark but hopeful, and it's what I've been feeling in my own life a lot lately. Even though it's short, I hope you'll give it a try. More notes at the end. Summary: He wouldn't run, he wouldn't, not if there was the possibility that he could do something to change things. **************************************************** Haze by Susan ~~~~ She stood on the corner, waiting. It was late in the afternoon, and she was standing on an empty corner in an even emptier city, waiting for him to come sweep her off her feet and take her away from it all. At least that's what she'd been telling herself for the past two days. When he'd gotten the call and left her then, she knew he'd come back for her, knew he'd find a way to deal with Them, then come rushing back and pull her into his arms and kiss her kiss her kiss her until her lips were bruised and her head felt dizzy. And he would tell her that it was all over, that they could live their lives the way they'd wanted to for years and finally get their son back again. But that was two days ago when the sky wasn't filled with a dusty orange haze and the streets weren't littered with ashes and death. And that was when she'd agreed to stay behind and help distribute the vaccine to as many people as she could because she was a doctor and it was what she did and who she was. And it was two days ago when he'd agreed to meet with Them and sacrifice something, anything, but not their son. Never their son. She told him then that he was the bravest and most honorable man she'd ever known and that if he didn't come back to her after two days she'd kick his ass and then she'd playfully pushed him backwards onto the bed and climbed on top of him, wrapping her body around his so tightly she could barely breathe. At night they'd slept in each other's arms that way, and when morning came he'd slowly slid in and out of her warm body, whispering how much he loved her into her ear, pressing the words into her cheek. An hour later, he was gone. Now here she was waiting alone among the remains of a city whose sidewalks were once humming with the voices of weary businessmen and busy Christmas shoppers. Waiting, waiting. During the last 36 hours, she'd given as many vaccines as she could to the people still left in town, but then all hell had broken loose and she found herself running like everyone else, her unsteady legs moving faster than they ever had before, her eyes frantically scanning the streets for someplace safe, someplace where she could escape the flames of fire falling from the sky. Finding an empty dry cleaning store, she'd tucked herself behind some boxes of plastic bags and wire hangers and wondered if he was hiding somewhere too, then cursed herself for even considering the notion. He wouldn't run, he wouldn't, not if there was the possibility that he could do something to change things. And she shouldn't have run either, but he and their son were what she had left and what she needed to live for and so she stayed crouched down on the dirty floor between two stacks of boxes, one hand clutching the gold cross hanging around her neck, the other covering her mouth to keep from breathing the fumes. It seemed like hours, but then suddenly it was over, the clouds of fire, the clash of metal, the piercing pressure in her ears, all gone now. She'd looked down at her watch then, wondering if it had also stopped, but it was still ticking, still moving forward and she had to do that now too. He'd told her that he'd meet her on the corner of Bosh Street and Vines at 4:30 today no matter what happened and she believed him. And so she'd slowly made her way out of the store and over to the street corner, her eyes desperately searching for the man she loved, the man she trusted with her life and everyone else's. "You can't leave me here, Mulder, you can't," she said, her eyes burning with tears as she tried not to look over at the three charred bodies lying next to what was left of a pickup truck. "You promised." "And you promised not to kick my ass if I came back to you," he replied, his voice startling her from behind, his dark form quickly moving towards her through the thick haze. He pulled her into his arms before she could say anything in return and kissed kissed kissed her until her lips were bruised and her head was even dizzier than she'd imagined. "It's over, Scully," he said, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks as he leaned in and kissed her again. "It's finally over," he said softly, pressing his forehead against hers. Closing her eyes, she let his words sink in, let her emotions flow through every part of her being as she immediately thought about the innocent little boy who'd been thrust into the middle of this storm, the same little boy she'd desperately longed to hold in her arms again for years. But now it was over. There were souls to grieve and lives to rebuild, but right now they were both alive and she was holding him and he was holding her and telling her that it was over. And she believed him. Stepping back from him then, she looked up into his eyes, the same beautiful eyes their son had, then squeezed his hand and whispered, "I think it's just beginning." ~end~ This post-col scenario is implausible, I know, but I've always thought that William was the key to something greater and that once the aliens were defeated, he would no longer be in danger and Mulder and Scully would be able to get him back again. Thanks for reading. It felt good to be writing again. possibilities http://possibilities.bravehost.com/ Originally posted November 2009.