The Closest

Author: DSc1110 (DSc1110@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: I don't own them, never have never will. Don't sue.

Distribution: It's the highest form of compliment, in my opinion. So definitely, please do; just pretty please leave me name and email addeys on it. Spooky's . . . of course.

Keywords: MSR, V

Rating: PG

Spoiler: It can be set any time after mid season 5, but if this becomes a series it'll have to be in Season 7. If that helps any… and that takes me to…

Author's Notes: I came about this concept as I was thinking about my own relationship with my brother. So, this musing is more for me and anything or anyone else. No, I'm not married, heck I'm not even dating anyone, but that doesn't mean I don't think about stuff like this -- often. It's one subject on which I can get really deep and drawn into myself. The article Scully supposedly read, I read myself, though I can't tell you where or when. I really wish I could find it again, though. Anyway, if this story is accepted and if you would like, I propose this to be a slight series. I'd like to do one from Mulder's POV, Mrs. Scully's POV, Samantha's POV, Melissa's POV, and Bill's POV. If I'm EXTREMELY adventurous, I'll do one from Charlie's. They'll all be a look at Mulder and Scully's relationship. The only way I'll take the time, though, is if any of you are interested in it. Please let me know via e-mail or on ATXFC. (Yes, It's a pathetic plea for feedback.)

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I read once that your siblings are the people closest to you up to the point in which you get married. No one else has the same parents, the same genetics, the same memories or experiences, and no one knows your personal idiosyncrasies as well as your brothers and sisters.

For years, this was possibly the most apparent in my family. The children of a naval captain, Bill, Missy, Charles and I were the closest any group of siblings could ever hope to be. We moved often, and following these moves, as we settled into our new home, we were each other's only friends. For days sometimes weeks, school would be near agony as you were the new kid in town, noticed, whispered about and then ignored, until some kind soul took a liking to you and became your friend.

Bill and Charles always seemed to be the first to make new friends. I'm no psychologist, though in this job I often have to attempt to be, but I believe it's "a guy thing." Boys seem to be more adept to making new friends. They are less judgmental and more open to new things. I think I always made friends faster than Missy, though, because she was always a bit out there. She had her beliefs and they often clashed with others. She was popular with the guys though. Maybe it was what she would call her aura, but she had this beauty to her that many boys found themselves attracted to. I know this was frustrating to her. She was my sister -- I was the person she was the closest to. Eventually, though, she would find someone who could appreciate her and accept her for who she was. Suddenly my big sister didn't need me any more, because she had new friends. Thus the story goes. We all would make friends . . . and then we'd leave 'em behind.

The bond these moves created lasted through the college years and into the beginnings of our careers. I have the old phone bills to prove it.

Bill got married. Charles got married. Missy just disappeared for awhile. We'd get a postcard now and then. We had all begun to grow apart. By this time, I'd met the person who would become the person closest to me. Then I disappeared for awhile.

But I didn't send any postcards.

When I returned, so did Missy. She seemed to need me in that old way again. Or maybe she thought I needed her, but I didn't. As I said, I'd already become closer to one person than I'd ever be to her again. Only he could truly attempt to grasp what had happened to me. When everyone around me wanted to just forget about that time, only he cared enough to try and find out. When Missy was killed, he was the person who held me in my grief. He stood by me. He knew -- he knows -- what it is to lose a sister. The person you were once the closest person in the world to.

He's not my husband. Maybe someday, but not now.

We have the same memories and experiences -- experiences no one else has experienced, or even dreamt in their worst nightmares. We've stood together through sickness, through health, through fights, through death, through the worst shit the men who brought us together have dared throw at us. We've weathered it all, side by side.

My phone bills are smaller now. I don't keep in touch with my two remaining siblings like I did in the past. After I almost died of a seemingly incurable disease, I tried. I tried to regain something that resembled the closeness we'd once shared. Charles could never understand. He lives so far away, and no matter how we would try, we could never come to grasp each other's new lives. Bill -- Bill, doesn't understand, and doesn't care to try. He's formulated his opinion of my life, my choices, my world without all the facts. He believes he knows what is best for me and would be happy to tell me how to "fix" my life. He's made my bed, but I refuse to lie in it.

Mom has stood by me through it all. She has accepted my life and the relationship I have with the man I am closest to for what it is.

The question is… what is it?

That can't be answered to its fullest potential. Best friends? Definitely. Lovers? In one sense of the word, yes. I love him and he loves me. That I know and don't question.

Perhaps the best word, though, is partners. Webster's dictionary defines it as

1 archaic : one that shares : PARTAKER
2 a : one associated with another especially in an action : ASSOCIATE, COLLEAGUE b : either of two persons who dance together c : one of two or more persons who play together in a game against an opposing side d : either of two people living together; especially : SPOUSE

"Shares," yes we share. It has come to be that what is mine is his and what is his is mine. We are two halves of a whole.

"Associated with another in an action." Of course. This is the basic definition of any FBI partnership.

"Two persons who dance together." We dance everyday in our own way, and we both know the steps extremely well. They have been perfected through our years together. We have long since passed the stage in which we step on each other's toes.

"Together in a game against as opposing side." We don't and can't fully know or comprehend who or what all encompasses the opposing side, but the battle lines have been drawn.

"Either of two people living together." Maybe not in physical residence, but we do live together in a world that is composed of aliens, mutants, bees, and men who are above the law. A world no one dares to try to penetrate for fear of these unknowns we stare at everyday.

Though no one can anger me more, annoy me to no end, or cause me more agony I wouldn't give him up for no one can bring this feeling of peace, accept my short comings, or give me greater joy.

No matter what the circumstances, there is one thing I know:

Mulder is and always will be the closest.

FIN