Disclaimer: No, these characters aren't mine.

Category: VRA 
Classification: MSR
Rating: PG 
Spoilers: Up to sixth season
Archive: Gossamer. Spookys. Others let me know.
Feedback: Knock yourself out. 
Summary: Scully finds an outlet for her emotions. 
Thanks: Shannon and Paulette for all their suggestions
and comments.


"Incomplete" (1/1)
by Lisa  
(haven599@msn.com) 

    This journal I used as a catharsis. A place to be honest. 
To tell the truth.  The truth of those months when worry and 
fear threatened to take over my life.  
    I'm not sure if I can read through this right now; the emotions 
are too fresh.  But I'll try. I can always put it down and start 
again later.  I know how it ends. That's the most important thing. 


****
August 10, 1999 - entry #1

    I started writing a journal some time ago, but felt in its pages 
would be the thoughts and feelings of a woman who had given up and
was letting a disease consume both her mind and body.  This time,
however, it is out of necessity.  I need to have a place for my 
thoughts, feelings, and worries about Mulder.  He is gone and I 
am left all alone.  I have no one to turn to - no one to tell the 
pain I am going through in not knowing if he will be coming back 
to me. And in what condition.  
    I was informed by Skinner about two weeks ago that Mulder is 
on an undercover assignment.  I can't help but think back to the
last time he did this and the danger he faced.  I was angry with 
him at the beginning, but time has passed and my anger had begun to
change to worry and fear. Skinner tells me Mulder wanted it so I 
knew what he was doing this time, but wanted me left in the dark 
about the details. Apparently, it's pretty risky.  So, of course 
Mulder would be involved, right? 
    Skinner told me I could continue to work on the X-Files in 
Mulder's absence or be assigned to other cases commensurate with
my background and skills.  I decided to work on other cases during
this time, although in doing so I feel like I'm betraying Mulder.  

****
August 16, 1999 - entry #2

    I'm glad I didn't stay on the X-Files. It would have been 
too . . . weird, for lack of a better word.  I'd have to have 
another partner - it would be a lot of change all at once.  
Anyway, I've prided myself on doing the best I can in my work.
If I attempted investigating them, I wouldn't be giving my full
attention - doing a half-assed job - which is not going to help
the situation at all.  

****
August 22, 1999 - entry #3

   I've tried to be nice. Today I got upset at another agent. He'd 
been making comments, jokes, rather about Mulder.  I let the first
couple slide by.  This time I was ticked off.  Reynolds had put him 
down enough.  I told him never to say anything negative about him 
in my presence ever again.  I defended Mulder and his abilities.      
    I've heard similar jokes before about him.  Being a young 
agent, I laughed at them, but that was before I knew Mulder. 
Before I became his partner.  Before I liked and respected him. 

****
September 2, 1999- entry #4
 
   I asked Skinner about Mulder. He wouldn't tell me anything. I 
can't just stand there and demand answers.  I'm in no position to do
that.  He won't even tell me if Mulder's Ok.  Damn him.  Doesn't
he know what this is doing to me? 

****
September 5, 1999 - entry #5

    I have been able to attend church regularly for a couple months
now. I pray for Mulder, now more than ever.  I pray that he hasn't
put himself at risk unnecessarily. Sometimes I know he doesn't use
particularly great judgment. I hope this time he hasn't gotten
himself killed.

****
September 10, 1999 - entry #6

    I had a dream last night. I was standing by a freshly dug grave
crying softly.  I heard a noise and looked up to see the Smoking 
Man leaning against a nearby tree, lighting a cigarette.  He walked
over to me, saying: "I know the people who killed him." 
    I woke up scared and upset.     

****
September 22, 1999 - entry #7
 
    I have begun to take my journal with me when I'm travelling.
Of course, I forget to write in it a lot. I'm usually tired at 
the end of the day and have to get up early for the next day's 
activities, meetings, etc. 
    Most times, I'm back in my hotel room after dinner and am in
for the night. Sometimes I go out to dinner with other agents and
we all get back around 10 or 11 o'clock. The conversations usually
center around work, but can turn to spouses and family.  I never
have much to add, which separates me even more from others around
my age.  It feels good to socialize again, but at times I just want
to be alone, not with other agents. 
    Is this what it's like to have a normal life? 

****
October 7, 1999 - entry #8

    I had one too many glasses of wine with Laura, an agent I'm
working with on a kidnapping case, in her hotel room last night.
Oddly enough, it was "girl talk" which I don't think I've done  
since Missy's death. Missy always wished I'd done more of that  
with her, but she always had to coerce me into it.  
    Inevitably, the conversation got around to Mulder. I was just
waiting for another joke, insult, or general negative comment about
my partner. She surprised me by saying she admired his profiling 
skills, since she herself had worked in VCS before. It was nice to
hear a positive comment about him said by another agent for a 
change. 
    I wonder what Mulder would say about me getting a little drunk.

****
October 13, 1999 - entry #9

    It's Mulder's birthday.  I realized I've never even gotten him
anything.  Not even a card.  I'm going to get him one tomorrow
and save it until I see him again.  I pray it will be soon. 
    Happy Birthday, Mulder. 

****
October 20, 1999 - entry #10

    Skinner told me today that he could get a letter to Mulder. I can
tell he's doing this as a favor to me, that's all. He should know by
now how much I care about him.  
    I can send the birthday card.  What else should I tell him? 
Should I say how much I'm scared for him? How much I miss him?

****
October 22, 1999 - entry #11

    I gave Skinner the letter today and he promised to let me know
if Mulder sends something back or asks about me.  It took me awhile
to decide what to write.  I considered writing a long letter about 
what I've been doing these past couple months, but nixed that idea,
deciding to come straight to the point.  I decided to be honest 
with him, telling how much I'm afraid for his safety.  How much he
needs to be careful.  I told him he needs to come back to me. 

****
October 27, 1999 - entry #12

    I'm so impatient.  I hope each day that Skinner will call me to 
his office with a response from Mulder.  I need some kind of 
assurance. 

****

November 3, 1999 - entry #13

    That assurance came in the most wonderful form.  I awakened in
the middle of the night to the sound of Mulder's voice, the touch of 
his hands.  I was disoriented at first, thinking it may be a dream.  
I quickly fumbled to turn on the light, throwing my arms around him.
He was cold and damp from the rain outside.  We held each other 
tightly not saying a word for a long time. 
    I thought he had fallen asleep in my arms, so I let my guard 
down and began to cry. Mulder asked me what was wrong, startling me. 
I told him I was afraid for him in a weepy voice that didn't sound 
at all like me. I sounded defeated. I had a whole explanation and 
reasons why he should be careful all outlined in my head, but I 
never had a chance to voice those concerns. 
    Mulder never gave me the opportunity.  His unexpected kisses 
reassured me.  They made me not think or worry about anything 
else, if only for a little while.  I remember him staying with me
until I fell asleep. 
    The next morning, I woke up alone in my apartment except for 
a note on the kitchen counter that read: "I will come back 
to you."     

**** 
November 18, 1999 - entry #14
 
    I wake up in the middle of the night at the slightest noise and
look around my room to see if he's here.  He never is.  I'm always
a little disappointed.  It always takes me awhile to fall back to  
sleep after that.  

****
November 27, 1999 - entry #15

    I told Mom about Mulder.  I didn't want to bring it up, but she
knows when something's on my mind.  The worst part was her bringing
it up during Thanksgiving dinner and Bill made some comment about
little green aliens.  I didn't talk much at all the rest of the 
meal.  It was after Bill, Tara, and Matthew left when I was helping
Mom finish the rest of the dishes that my emotions got the best of
me and I began to get upset.  I didn't want to; it just happened.
I told her about Mulder.  The worrying I have been doing lately. 
How it's consuming me.  She tried to persuade me to take some time
off work.  I told her I needed the work. It kept me busy, my mind
focused on something else.  I need the one thing I can't have right
now. 
    I need my partner back. 

****
December 3, 1999 - entry #16

    I clearly remember watching the snow fall out of my bedroom
window. I left the curtain open specifically for that purpose. 
The moonlight illuminated the small snowflakes as they landed on 
my windowsill. I believe that's what lulled me off to sleep. 
    The next thing I remember was being awakened with soft, gentle
kisses. 
    Mulder. He's here. Mulder. 
    I said his name once or twice.  He asked me if I had any other
men awaken me with kisses in the middle of the night. 
    He felt cold and I asked him to come under the covers with me.
He hesitated, but I wouldn't take no for an answer. I had so many
questions to ask him, but also just wanted to lie here close with
him. In the safety of my apartment.  It could end all too quickly.
But I grew restless with the silence and kissed him.  
    That's how it started. 
    The kisses became harder to stop. 
    I was the one who undid the first two buttons of my pajama top. 
    Mulder asked me if I was sure.  If it was what I wanted. 
    Now who's the one second guessing who? 
    I was able to see his body courtesy of the light of the winter
moon. 
    I began to wonder if this would be the first and last time we
made love.  But dwelling on that possibility would distract me from 
these wonderful sensations. Mulder made me forget the worry and
fear. He made everything disappear for at least tonight. 
    I felt thoroughly loved. 
    The alarm went off the next morning. Of course, he was gone.
    The space next to me was still warm. I allowed myself the 
indulgence of snuggling into the warmth left by his body for a
few moments before starting the day. 

****
December 7, 1999 -entry #17

    I'm feeling lonely. Tired.  I thought I saw Mulder today. 
From behind, the man looked very much like him.  I knew it couldn't
be, but I was disappointed anyway.  
    I hope I'll see him soon.  Maybe tonight. 

****
December 9, 1999 - entry #18

    I dreamt that Mulder and I were making love on his waterbed 
at his apartment.  I was so upset with myself for waking up. I 
very much wanted to linger in that world as long as possible. 
    This was the second dream about him. The first centered  
around his death. This one centered around love and happiness.
    Reality is somewhere in between. 
 
****
December 11,1999 - entry #19

    I wonder how much more I'll write in this journal before 
Mulder comes back.  If he doesn't, I don't know how I'll cope with
it.  I don't know what I'll do with this book of memories then. 
Perhaps read only the good parts. Perhaps not be able to open it
for a long time. 
    I hope it's as hard for him as it is for me. This is probably
what it was like for him during my abduction, except he didn't 
know if I was dead or alive.  And he blamed himself.  
    This particular situation was of his own choosing. However, that
offers me little comfort.  It even hurts more.  I've cared for him
so much and for so long now, but things changed since we made love.
I knew they would for me.  I love him. 
    If he knew this, would he try to come back any sooner? 

****
December 16, 1999 - entry #20

    I don't want to spend Christmas alone.  I'll go over to Mom's
house as always and be with my family, but I want to spend it 
with Mulder. Now more than ever. 

****
December 21, 1999 - entry #21

    I woke up this morning with Mulder asleep next to me. I watched
him sleep.  I only had the pleasure for a few minutes before he
awakened and said the words I so wanted to hear about his undercover
assignment: "It's over." 
    I snuggled closer to him, enjoying the warmth and feel of his 
body against mine on this cold day near Christmas.  

****
December 23, 1999 - entry #22

    We've decided to go away together for a couple of days.  Not
sure exactly when.  Christmas is two days away and I'm going to 
Mom's for a day and Mulder's going to spend some time with his 
mother, too. I think I may be pushing it if I ask to have Mulder
come with me, especially since Bill will be there. I know Mom would 
welcome him as always, but I don't know if I want to share him 
just yet.  
    Mulder won't tell me why he took this assignment. I don't 
know if it had something to do with his sister, my cancer and 
abduction, or his alien-human hybrid theories. I doubt he'll ever
tell me.  I know the experience took its toll on him. I can see 
it in his eyes.  There will always be a part of him I can't reach.
    If I had to give this journal a title, I think I would use the 
word "Incomplete." That's how I feel when I'm not with Mulder. 

****
December 30, 1999 - entry #23

    I've decided to add this one last entry. We're going to leave
pretty soon. I managed to find a hotel up in Maine - a bed and 
breakfast- that wasn't all booked up for the millennium celebration. 
I had to plan something. We can't just drive around and stumble
upon something as Mulder suggested. 
    I managed to get through reading this journal with only a few
tears shed.  It helps when you know the man you love is coming over
soon.  I guess he had a few last minute errands.  
    I'm actually a little nervous about this trip. I want him to 
understand what I went through during these months. I need him to
understand. I hope I can work up the courage to tell him how I 
feel about him.  I'm not very good about sharing my feelings and
emotions. I wish I didn't hide them so much. If only Mulder could
know what I was thinking during . . . 
    I better let Mulder know when he gets here that I'm going to
be driving.  He's got something to read. 

**** 

END (1/1)