Unforeseen Complications Epilogue

by Nikita

Title: "Unforeseen Complications, Epilogue"

Author: Nikita

Spoiler: everything...

Warning: Slash, if you don't know what that means chances are you don't wanna know, go watch an x-file repeat and stay safe from my twisted version. Contains m/m hurt/comfort, romance, schmoop, and sex...at some point or another.

Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Files or any characters or plot lines associated with it. Chris Carter and the wonderful actors (especially Duchovny) do. I'm not making any profit off this story or the characters within. Don't bother suing, I'm a grad student with lots of student loans...I haven't got a penny.

Author's warning: This is the final part of Unforeseen Complications. I warn you, this is a tear jerker ending, after all...that's how CC left it. We always knew that was how it would end. BUT - it may get a sequel... Do you want one??? XXX

He told me many things... He told me he wanted to believe. He told me he was trying to help me... He told me he was my friend. He told me not to trust him.

And I shouldn't have. But I did. I would tell myself over and over not to trust him, but something...something would always sway me into making a fool of myself. Perhaps it was his eyes, they spoke of tenderness, desire, love, despair. I looked into those eyes far too many times, trying to understand him. I don't. I never did. And the more I found myself wanting to believe him, wanting 'him'. The more I hated myself. Hated him.

The love that could have been was replaced by a deep seated hatred that kept us forever at odds. In the end...did he hate me as well? He tried to kill me. Held the gun to my face and tried to squeeze the trigger...but he couldn't. I could see that. I knew it. So did he. But he kept trying.

Would he have finally killed me? If Skinner hadn't appeared out of no where and blew him away? Would he have finally squeezed his finger and ended our possibilities? Somehow, I don't think so. He kept reaching for the gun, even after his only arm was injured. Kept struggling. Even tried to convince Skinner to shoot me. All I could do was stare stunned. He was raving, mad, desperate beyond all reason. Not making any sense. I called him a coward, told him he was trying to save his own skin...

And then...after Skinner killed him...I hopped in the car and drove away, desperate to get to Scully.

Not a tear, not a glance, not a hint of emotion for the man I had once loved dead on the cold cement floor.

He'd looked at me after the bullet hit him between the eyes. He glanced at me one last time before dying. God, it is that look that haunts me at night. Far worse than anything my father ever did to me. Worse than any monster I ever chased.

His green eyes, turning, dazed at me. Then he fell. And I didn't react. I didn't shout. I didn't scream. I didn't do a fucking thing.

Why? Shock. Desperation for Scully's well being. Adrenaline. All of the above? None of them? I don't know. To this day, I don't know.

I only know that if I could do it all over. Go back to the very beginning...when I first met him... I don't think I could have done anything to stop this. It was doomed from the beginning. We both were.

Now I lay on rock hard motel bed. Scully asleep beside me. I think back to the last time I saw him...

I remember seeing him...a ghost. He helped me. I asked him why...why would he help 'me'? I asked him many times...his answers never enough. Finally...finally he told me. He loved me. He never stopped. He told me that I should stop feeling guilty. That it wasn't my fault...

That isn't true. Too many times I had him within reach and didn't tell him...didn't tell him that he was the 'only' one. The only one I loved. Could ever love. That no matter what he did...no matter how much I hated him...I still loved him.

He knew this...possibly he read my mind, I don't know. All I know is he reached a hand to me, and though I didn't feel a physical hand, I felt a mental brush. A warmness. Sweet, sad and lonely.

He told me he'd wait for me. That one day we'd meet again.

I want to believe...

I look at my gun, sitting on the bed next to me. I listen to Scully breathe. I cannot do this to her. Not now. She is close to the edge. She fought for me to live. If I kill myself now it will all be for nothing. Without me here, she will be alone.

I glance at the gun again.

Someday...soon.


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