The Note

By Brandon D. Ray
publius@avalon.net


DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT:  Anywhere is fine, so long as my name stays on
it and no money changes hands.

FEEDBACK:  Go ahead; knock yourself out.

Ephemeral: *FEEDBACK*publius@avalon.net

SPOILER STATEMENT:  Sein Und Zeit

RATING:  PG

CONTENT STATEMENT:  TeenaMulderAngst

CLASSIFICATION:  VA

SUMMARY:   Fill-in-the-blank for Sein Und Zeit.  Apparently there was
a Scullyfic challenge a while ago where you were supposed to have one
character write a letter to another one.  I'm not on Scullyfic, but
since all the cool kids are doing it, I had to write one, too.  ;)

THANKS:  To Sharon, for the quick runthrough.

DISCLAIMER:  In my dreams...


The Note

by Brandon D. Ray


Dear Miss Scully,

I must begin by asking your forgiveness for my presumption.  Sending a
letter such as this one is intrusive and upsetting even when the
author is familiar to the recipient, while you and I are essentially
strangers.  But I find myself needing to unburden myself to someone,
and upon reflection I've decided that there is really no one other
than you who might understand.

I suppose you will be wondering why I'm not writing this letter to my
son, and that's a reasonable question to ask.  Unfortunately, I don't
have a good answer.  Fox and I have not related well to one another
for a very long time; not since Samantha was taken from us.  And in
all honesty, I am to blame for most of the distance that has grown
between us.

I know that Fox has felt responsibility for our estrangement, as he
has for so many other things, but through the years I've lacked the
strength to offer him the comfort he needs and deserves.  Worse, I
have allowed him to accept those feelings of guilt, for the selfish
reason that it permitted me to exculpate myself for so many of my own
failings.  I am not proud of how I've conducted my life, but it's far
too late for me to undo it.  I can only ask that you believe me when I
say that I always knew in my heart that Fox was blameless, and that I
will carry the weight of my sins against him to my grave.

There are so many things I wish I could say to my boy before I take my
final leave of him.  I tried to call him, the night I heard about the
little girl who disappeared in California.  I thought perhaps the
geographical distance and the ephemeral nature of a telephone call
would allow me to say things that I was finding it impossible to put
into writing.  But he was distant and distracted, and had no time to
talk.  Or at least, so he said.

Were you there that night, Miss Scully?  Were you sitting next to Fox
when he received my phone call?  I shall never know the answer to that
question, and I don't suppose it really matters.  But there was an odd
tension in his voice, a tone that suggested someone important could
overhear him.

I couldn't help but wonder who was listening, of course.  As I'm sure
you're aware, there are any number of people who might have been
monitoring his phone conversations -- or mine, for that matter.  But
for some reason, I am convinced that the person who was making him so
self-conscious was you.

But as I say, it doesn't matter.  What does matter is that I lacked
the character to press the issue with him.  Even though I had already
made the decision to end my life.

Now, as I sit here at my kitchen table with the medicine bottles lined
up in front of me, I'm not sure what I would have told him, even if he
had been willing and able to listen.  We have kept so many secrets
from each other, and I've told so many lies, that I wouldn't even know
where to begin, if I were to attempt to set things right.

Perhaps things cannot be set right at all.  Perhaps matters between my
son and myself have spiraled so far out of control that any such
effort would be doomed to failure.

One thing I do wish to make clear is that my death is unrelated in any
way to my husband's work.  As I'm sure you will know by the time you
receive this letter, I am suffering from Paget's carcinoma.  I trust I
need say no more than that for you to understand my motivations in
this matter.  I choose not to spend my last months in the disfiguring
agony that my physician has described to me; it's as simple as that.

I know it will be difficult for Fox to accept my decision.  I know it
will also be hard for him to believe that in this, at least, things
really are no more than what they seem to be.  I hope that through
your medical training you will be able to help him to understand.

And now I come to the real reason for this letter.  In a few minutes I
will be leaving this earth.  I will finish my note to you, I will seal
it in an envelope, and I will walk half a block to the mailbox and
send it off.  Then I will return home and take the necessary measures.

In doing this, I am leaving a great many matters unresolved, both for
myself and for my son.  It has been a very long time since I believed
in storybook endings, but somehow I can't keep myself from wishing
that all the loose ends of my life could be tied up in neat little
knots.  Most especially, I wish that in easing my own pain, it was not
necessary for me to make an orphan of my one remaining child.

Please take care of my son, Miss Scully.  I know that I have no right
to ask anything of you.  Coward that I am, I have deliberately kept my
distance these past seven years, so that I would not be too familiar
with the harm that would inevitably come to you and those you care
about as a consequence of your association with the Mulders.  But
still, I have to ask.  Please take care of my son.

In closing, let me once again apologize for intruding in this manner.
And since I was unable to accept the responsibility of addressing this
letter directly to Fox, I shall leave it to your judgment how much of
this to share with him.

Please believe that I always loved my son.  And if you should see fit,
please try to make sure that he understands this, as well.

Respectfully,



Teena Mulder

--
It's a story of romance, rebellion and household appliances!  --
Hardware Wars
==========================
And yes, my fanfic *does* include romance and rebellion:
http://www.avalon.net/~publius/MyStories.html
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http://www.avalon.net/~publius/MyRecs.html