Title: Adam's Song Author: Elizabeth L. Iacono Rating: PG Category: Vignette, Angst Keywords: Pre-XF Spoilers: None Summary: A rainy day in England. Decision time for Mulder. As the title says, this is inspired by 'Adam's Song,' by Blink 182. While I'm not a usual fan of the group, this song really caught my eye and the whole fic was inspired by it. What turned my opinion of the song around (because I used to dislike it) was that I realized that it had a somewhat happy ending, which spawned on this fic. Also, this fic is shipper and Noromo safe. For some reason I think this fic would work better if M&S's relationship is ambiguous, so I'll leave it up to the reader to decide if they're just friends or more than that. In other words this fic is Ashley and Nif safe. ;-) Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully are not mine. Adam's Song belongs to Blink 182 Feedback: I would love it. RhiaRamsay@aol.com And if you want visit my Website: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Meteor/7124/index.html (it's under construction at the moment though) Archive: Anywhere and everywhere, Gossamer, Spookys, and Xemplary especially. Started and finished August 3, 2000. Adam's Song Elizabeth L. Iacono 'I never thought I'd die alone I laughed the loudest, who'd have known? I traced the cord back to the wall No wonder it was never plugged in at all I took my time, I hurried up The choice was mine, I didn't think enough I'm too depressed to go on You'll be sorry when I'm gone I never conquered, rarely came 16 just held such better days Days when I still felt alive We couldn't wait to get outside The world was wide, too late to try The tour was over, we'd survived I couldn't wait 'til I got home To pass the time in my room alone I never thought I'd die alone Another six months, I'll be unknown Give all my things to all my friends You'll never step foot in my room again You'll close it off, board it up Remember the time that I spilled the cup Of apple juice in the hall Please tell mom this is not her fault I never conquered, rarely came 16 just held such better days Days when I still felt alive We couldn't wait to get outside' Adam's Song Blink 182 Oxford University England 1980 Very Early Morning Winter in England was very cold, and very long, Fox Mulder mused as he stared out the window in his small dorm room. The sky was overcast in what little pre-dawn light there was, the clouds hanging low with what could be either rain or snow. It looked like one of many winter days since he had arrived at Oxford. But then, England wasn't known for spectacular weather. Come to think of it though, he didn't care anymore. He didn't seem to care about anything anymore, that was the problem. Though he was doing well at Oxford, making top marks in his courses, even earning a spot on the university's soccer team, he didn't care about any of it. It was all just going through the motions now. Mulder thought he would begin to care more about things, now that he was overseas and far away from his family. But it didn't happen. He just became more and more apathetic until he was left wondering what was the point of getting up anymore. He wanted to see things in color again. Before Samantha was gone, things were bright and full of color. The sea surrounding the Vineyard was a blue-green color, the little flowers in the windowbox bursted with little pink and purple blooms. His mother's favorite dress was a deep red, the same shade as a good wine. And Samantha's hair glowed dark brown, like the glossy coffee table she liked to dance on. But after that night when Samantha had disappeared from his life, things began to fade. In his eyes, the sea became muddier, the flowers wilted, the dress was moved to the back of the closet. They kept fading and fading until the only colors he could really see anymore were shades of grey. Dull, lifeless variations of grey that he felt matched his dull, lifeless self. He wanted to see those colors again, wanted to feel alive. But he couldn't figure out how to get them back, to recapture the colors and the liveliness that he so desired. That was what had led him to today, the early morning of yet another cold winter day. Mulder looked over at the razor blade lying on his desk. It wasn't one of the cheap disposable blades, but a real one, taken from a barber shop somewhere. The long metal blade glinted as the clouds moved outside and sent grey patches of dim light against it. This one blade, this piece of sharpened metal, seemed to hold his fate, he thought. He picked it up by the handle and tested its weight. In reality it wasn't very heavy, but to him it felt like a block of lead sitting in his hand. He vaguely wondered if it would hurt as the blade sliced through skin and vein, splitting open the vessel that contained the liquid that kept his body running and spilling blood that was once red but now grey in his eyes over the green comforter. He shook his head to clear it of its wandering thoughts. He hadn't bothered to leave a note, the blood pouring from his wrists would be clear evidence to the cause of his death. And his family members would certainly know why he did it. They were the ones who blamed him for Samantha's disappearance. They would probably be grateful that the bane he placed on their lives would be gone. Still carrying the blade, he moved over to the small bed and sat down on it, propping himself up against the wall. Mulder looked down at the razor, and at his left wrist, facing up towards the paint-cracked ceiling. Now was the time, there was no turning back anymore. There was no reason to. Mulder adjusted his grip on the blade and touched the cool metal to his even cooler skin. He sucked in a breath, not really knowing why, and pressed the blade down. Only the tip actually dug into his skin and made a minute split in the flesh, but that little cut was all it took. He stared at the small slice with the drop of blood welling out of it, and he saw something he hadn't seen for a long time. The drop was red. Not the dull grey color everything else had taken on, but a vibrant, alive red, standing out sharply against his pale skin, a result of self-imposed exile from the sun. It almost had a certain glow to it, shiny and slick, slowly trickling down his arm. And at that moment, Mulder realized he couldn't do it. That one glowing drop of red blood was like a message being driven into his brain, saying that even though on the outside things seemed grey and lifeless, inside things were still in color, they were still alive. He still had a chance to make things better. He placed the razor down on his night table, resisting the urge to throw it out the window like he really wanted to. He pushed himself off the bed and went over to his desk, rummaging around until he found a roll of gauze and some medical tape. Mulder wrapped the gauze around his bleeding wrist and held it tight with the tape, stopping the flow relatively quickly. Then, he pulled a sheet of loose-leaf paper out from the pile on his desk. While he had staved off the inevitable for now, he couldn't say what he would do in the future. So he wrote himself a note, recording what he had almost done, and making himself a promise. He gave himself twenty years. If things had gotten better, or rather than saying better, saying his life had acquired a purpose, then things would be fine. If not though...then he didn't see the point of living past that moment. Mulder folded the note up and placed it on top of his desk, to serve as a reminder. Things might not be good, but he couldn't take the chicken shit way out and just end it. It would take a hell of a lot more courage to stay alive, in his opinion. And he felt he owed it to himself to try. He stared out the window, seeing another rare sight. The sunrise, feeling that today it didn't want to be deterred by grey clouds, was poking its way over the tops the old Oxford buildings, suffusing the sky with red-gold light and burning itself into Mulder's memory. For the first time in a long time, the colors were coming back. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 'The world was wide, too late to try The tour was over, we'd survived I couldn't wait 'til I got home To pass the time in my room alone I never conquered, rarely came Tomorrow holds such better days Days when I can still feel alive When I can't wait to get outside The world is wide, the time goes by The tour is over, I've survived I can't wait 'til I get home To pass the time in my room alone' Adam's Song Blink 182 The years went by and the note had slipped into the background, eventually being forgotten amidst all the other things in Mulder's life. Events occurred that made him look at things in different ways. People passed in and out of his life, some only remaining there for a brief time, and some, like one Dana Scully, setting down roots into his life and not letting go. The note ended up being buried somewhere, under a pile of old things that hadn't been touched in years. Until another grey, rainy day when by some strange twist of fate Mulder felt he had to clean out some of the old boxes cluttering up his bedroom. Scully was there helping him too, out of either the goodness of her heart or because of his pitiful whining the day before, saying that he didn't want to go through the mess alone. But she came, and they actually had a little fun while they did it. They had laughed over some old photographs of his childhood years, and cringed at the old gym socks at the bottom of one box. The day became less about cleaning and more about getting to know one another. Mulder had his head buried deep in a different box when he heard Scully's voice from across the room. "What about this, Mulder?" "What is it?" he called back. "It looks like a note. It's got a date on the front of it, February 27, 1980." Mulder froze, recognizing the date and what exactly was contained in said note. He hear the rustle of paper, strangely amplified by the box around his head, and then a couple of seconds later, Scully's sharp intake of breath. He sat back on the floor, staring at nothing in particular with his fingers fiddling with the frayed edge of the cardboard box. A few short minutes that could have passed for a lifetime later he heard a shuffling sound behind him and felt Scully's hand on his upper back. "It must have been a really hard time for you," she said softly. "Oh, yeah," Mulder sighed, unconsciously leaning back into her hand. "Did you ever find that purpose?" she asked even softer. Mulder turned around to look her in her eyes, which were looking back at him sympathetically, sadly, curiously, and with plenty of other things he couldn't define. "I think I did," he whispered, his head slightly nodding. "Yeah, I did." Scully didn't say anything, just reached out to take his hand in hers. She intertwined their fingers and squeezed tightly, knowing that words wouldn't convey what they were feeling. And just like it had twenty years ago, the sun broke through the clouds once more, bringing splashes of color to a grey world. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Feel free to make your own assumptions as to what Mulder's purpose is. I know what I believe. :-) I also know that I've played around with this idea before, but this is a much more serious and realistic attempt than my last one, so I hope that no one minds it. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 'True love, it's the greatest thing in the world.' Miracle Max The Princess Bride XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 'Men will fight bravely and be heroes, but for a last ditch defense against any odds, get a mother.' The Defender High Wizardry XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 'This is the Fish Patrol in 201. Our flying fish has flown away. In fact, things are so rotten around here that even the pigs won't stay! But we'll fight to the bitter end! Beware The Fish!' Bruno Walton Beware The Fish XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX --------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- The X-Files Creative Mailing List Archived at http://www.xemplary.com To subscribe, go to http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/xfc-atxc To unsubscribe, write xfc-atxc-unsubscribe@onelist.com Check out the XFC Feedback list http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/xfc-fdbk ---------------------------------- Imported to ATXC courtesy of NewsGuy news service http://newsguy.com