TITLE: Here We Stand
AUTHOR: Spooky Jr.
EMAIL ADDRESS: CuteAndCudly@Yahoo.com
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Anywhere. Just keep my name and addy attached.
SPOILER WARNING: SUZ. Before "Closure"
RATING: PG
CLASSIFICATION: V/A
SUMMARY: Fill in the blanks for SUZ. Takes place before Closure aired. Scully's POV.
FEEDBACK: Is cherished! It'll only take a minute, please let me know what you think.
SPECIAL THANKS: To my editor Melinda. You rock!
Without further ado...
"Here We Stand" by Spooky Jr.

I stand beside him now, my hand, small and comforting, clutches his. We stand here together, alone. Side by side we take up silent vigil of the newly dug grave.

The funeral ended for Tina Mulder almost a half an hour ago and yet we still stand.

We are mere inches from each other, but our thoughts couldn't be further away.

Even with the faith of my beliefs, and the abiding rule to forgive those who trespass against us, I shall

never forgive Tina Mulder for the emotional scars she has left upon Mulder. Scars that will forever dig into his soul.

I look at him and see the shell of a man that he once was, so alive and vibrant. The light that once shined off him so bright, now dulled into nothingness.

I gently squeeze his hand in silent plea to please leave. To leave this grave that holds too much hurt. Too much despair and lies. I wish I could drive Mulder away forever. Drive him away from all this hurt and stop the emotional rollercoaster that he is on.

When no recognition flashes across his face, I gently begin to speak.

"Mulder?"

He turns his head and his eyes lock with mine and I almost inaudibly gasp. There is so much hurt in those deep hazel orbs that it's drowned out the spark that once resided there.

At that point my heart shatters and I swear I could almost hear the pieces as they crumbled.

"Let's go home Mulder," I say, turning and tugging lightly on his hand upon which I still hold.

He nods, looking back once more at his mother's grave before retreating and following me away from the site.

We make it to where the car is parked, ours being the only one remaining.

All the other's who had attended, which weren't that many, had long ago left. Went home and carried on with their lives. All but us. Mulder's life will never be the same and for that reason, neither will mine.

The ride to Mulder's apartment is an uneventful one. I glance at every so often, but his position stays the same; staring numbly out the window, unseeing to the world passing by before him.

Even as we arrive at his residence, he is oblivious to anything and everything. His body has become like an automatic robot, putting one foot in front of the other until we finally reach his door.

I watch silently as he tries relentlessly to insert the key into the lock. The trembling of his hands making it almost impossible and I watch as once again the key slips and nearly falls from his grasp.

My hand glides over his, giving it a light squeeze. His shaking hand calms instantly and I gently pull the keys from him.

"It's ok," I tell him. God how much I wish it were.

I let us into the apartment and watch as he instantly heads for the couch and flops down heavily. Laying back as if all the strength had been stripped from him.

He leans forward resting his head in his hands. I stay back a few moments to give him some time alone. Only when I hear the slow shuddering sobs that emanate from him do I stride over there.

His shoulders are quaking and the tears instantly well up in my eyes. I blink quickly to hold them back, I cannot breakdown. He needs me too much right now, I tell myself.

I kneel down in front of him, resting on my knees right in front of his legs. My hands slowly glide up his arm, all the way up to his hands which still hold his head.

I gently pry his hands away and lean up to kiss him tenderly on the forehead.

He looks down at me, the same hurt still residing him his eyes.

"Mulder, we'll get through this." I tell him softly. Those words sound so weak to my ears. So shallow and I realize that no words can just wipe away the pain.

He shakes his head slightly and I expected him to repeat the all to familiar words, 'she was trying to tell me something.' Instead he doesn't and says something that was very unexpected.

"I can't take this anymore."

Oh Mulder, I think, but only when he sighs and looks at me do I realize I have spoken aloud.

"I can't Scully. I just can't." And with those words the tears from his eyes begin to cascade down his cheeks.

Almost automatically, I reach up and brush away the fallen tears and pull him to me. I wrap my arms protectively around his shaking form and hold him tight.

This position feels all too familiar as the flash of the night before pops into my mind; me holding him as he cries on my shoulder.

"Mulder," I whisper, my voice slightly distorted by the collar of his shirt. No response from him except more muffled sobs.

I give up for the moment and opt for rubbing his back in slow circles, trying to give him some comfort. Some semblance of something to hold on to. His nerves are like thin shreds right now and at the moment I am grasping at them, grasping at something, anything to keep him from going over the edge. To keep him from falling into the dark abyss of despair and hopelessness.

We sit, as time turns fluid and I no longer care to keep track of it. We sit silently as it passes us by mere minute by mere minute. I sit rocking him gently, our positions never changing.

"Mulder, look at me."

I say it gently, I need to break the silence that has passed between us.

He looks at me, his eyes almost pleading. Pleading to answer all the questions stirring in his mind. Why'd she do it. Why couldn't she just tell him. His guilt forming heavily on his already hurting heart.

I change positions and sit down on the couch beside him, sliding my right arm behind his back and rest my head lightly on his shoulder.

I close my eyes for a few brief moments and I notice I am unconciously rubbing his arm. I stop and lift my head off his shoulder, taking a good look at him.

He looks so weak right now, fragile and worn out.

"Mulder, why don't you go lay down?" I suggest.

He shakes his head no, "I can't sleep Scully."

His voice cracks on my name and the tears in my eyes that I thought I had gotten rid of are back.

"Please try Mulder. For me, please try. Why don't you at least just lie back on the couch. You don't have to go to sleep, just lay down and relax."

He nods slowly and I stand up in order to give him room to lie down. He stretches out on his back, the length of his frame taking up the whole length of the couch.

I softly sit down beside him on the couch, running my fingers through his hair. His eyes look up and lock with mine once again. I can see the sleep in his eyes and I can see his struggle to stay awake even against his feeble protests.

"Sleep Mulder," I whisper, running my thumb lightly over his forehead. His eyes close slowly, his eye lashes flutter as he relents and falls into slumber. He breathing almost instantly evens out and his breaths become slow and steady.

I lean down and give him a tender kiss on his forehead, whispering "sweet dreams," into his ear.

The End.

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