4 Works by sproutingsun in The X-Files
Listing Works
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Maybe he had dreamed it all.
The way she entered his bedroom as if floating an inch above the floor, each step gliding towards him with a tangible conviction he had only seen before in times of crisis, when it was crucial that a goal was met. The way she hung over him and how when he asked her what was wrong she replied only with “thank you.”
“For what?” Mulder had asked, taking her hovering face in his hands.
“Everything,” she said.
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Mulder thinks about dying a lot. He thinks about it a lot less when she’s in the room.
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He doesn’t have to ask. “I’m okay,” she says. “Just a bad dream.”
He looks back to horizon and nods, not quite believing her.
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"We had a home here. And I left."
"I'm so, so sorry."