From: susanf34@comcast.net   
      
   *NO ARCHIVE*   
      
      
      
   Title: Hollow Places   
   Author: Susan   
   E-mail: susanf34@comcast.net   
   Classification: Scully angst, a "what if" series   
   of journal entries   
   Spoiler: various season one episodes, season two   
   abduction arc   
   Rating: PG   
   Archive: No archive without permission.   
   Disclaimer: On paper, these characters aren't mine.   
   In my head, they are.   
      
   Summary: What if things were different after   
   Scully's abduction?   
   **********************************************************   
      
   Hollow Places (1/2)   
   by Susan   
   ~~~~   
      
   ----   
   one   
   ----   
      
      
   It's been two years since I was abducted.   
      
   I still have nightmares about it.   
      
   I also still have regrets. About how I treated my   
   family when I was returned.  About how I pushed   
   everyone away.   
      
   But mostly about how I treated Mulder.   
      
   At the time I was taken we'd been partners for a   
   little over a year, and during that time we'd   
   formed a bond I thought would never be broken.   
      
   I trusted him, and he trusted me, and though we   
   often disagreed on a lot of things, we shared a   
   deep respect and fondness for each other that   
   went way beyond any other relationship I'd ever   
   had before.   
      
   But then everything changed.   
      
   Duane Barry kidnapped me and took me to Skyland   
   Mountain, where I was then drugged and taken   
   somewhere else.   
      
   I don't know where they brought me, and now, two   
   years later, I still don't know.   
      
   The only thing I do know is that I was gone for   
   eight months, and when I was returned not only   
   had I changed into someone I didn't recognize,   
   but Mulder had changed too.   
      
   The man I remembered from before I was taken   
   was intelligent, witty, sensitive, passionate,   
   and obsessed with finding out the truth about   
   his sister's disappearance and the government's   
   efforts to conceal it.   
      
   When I came back, he was none of those things.   
      
   He was cold and hard and rough, and though he did   
   encourage me to try to figure out what happened to   
   me during my abduction, it wasn't with the same   
   passion I once knew.   
      
   As for me, I became bitter and depressed, closing   
   myself off from everyone who cared about me and   
   becoming a shell of the woman I once was.   
      
   Consequently, my emotional descent took its toll   
   on him, and he eventually ended up quitting the   
   X-Files.   
      
   I think the thing that hurt me the most though   
   was that he didn't even say goodbye when he left.   
      
   He just went to the office one night, packed up   
   his things, and left town. No phone call, no note.   
      
   Nothing.   
      
   In hindsight, I should've seen it coming.   
      
   After all, I was the one who pushed him away, the   
   one who refused to get the psychological help he   
   wanted me to have.   
      
   And I was the one who didn't believe him when he   
   told me that he spent every day of those eight   
   months I was gone searching for me.   
      
   And I still can't believe it, that a man I'd only   
   known for a year would spend eight months looking   
   for me when everyone else considered me dead.   
      
   I should've known that he would've done anything   
   and everything to find me, and yet I had no idea   
   that he'd go to such extreme lengths, that he'd   
   risk his life for me.   
      
   And I had no idea that he did it because he loved   
   me.   
      
   Had I known, I would've done things differently.   
      
   I would have let him fill the hollow places inside   
   of me and help me become whole again.   
      
   And I would've loved him back.   
      
   But I didn't know, and now I'm alone.   
      
   Sometimes, on the nights I can't sleep, I go outside   
   and look up at the stars, and I think about him.   
      
   Did he ever find the truth he was looking for, or   
   has he become even more cold and distant?   
      
   Is he working at a job he loves, or have his days   
   become meaningless like mine?   
      
   Does he ever look up at the stars and think about   
   me too?   
      
   I wonder.   
      
   And I wonder if some day he'll come back into my   
   life and want to start all over again.   
      
   I want so badly to believe that he will.   
      
   But does he even want to?   
      
   I can only hope.   
      
      
      
   ----   
   two   
   ----   
      
   I've been writing in this journal for the past six   
   months, and it still feels strange to me, seeing   
   my thoughts written on paper.   
      
      
      
   My therapist suggested that I type them into the   
   computer, but that just seems so cold and impersonal   
   to me.   
      
   And so I'm writing down my innermost thoughts and   
   deepest fears with a black Bic pen in a wide-ruled   
   spiral notebook instead.   
      
   How ironic.   
      
   I can spill out my emotions onto a damn piece of   
   notebook paper, but I can't share even one of them   
   with Mulder.   
      
   No wonder he left me.   
      
   I've always found it difficult to get close to   
   people and let them see the real me, but I really   
   took it to the extreme with him.   
      
   All the disturbing cases we worked on that first   
   year, all the times we both came close to death,   
   all the times when we only had each other to trust,   
   and I still couldn't open up to him.   
      
   And then when I was returned from my abduction,   
   I closed off from him even more, thinking that   
   if I didn't actually remember what happened to   
   me while I was gone then it would eventually go   
   away.   
      
   That was a mistake.   
      
   I don't think it's ever going to go away.   
      
   Just as my feelings for Mulder never will.   
      
   You know, looking back on it now, I guess I even   
   had feelings for him on that first day we met.   
      
   Grant it, they weren't feelings of love, but from   
   the moment he looked into my eyes and shook my   
   hand, then proceeded to challenge every word I   
   said, I felt something stirring inside of me that   
   I hadn't felt for quite some time.   
      
   Passion.   
      
   And he was also so different from anyone else I'd   
   ever worked with.   
      
   Spray painting a big X in the middle of a road   
      
   while we were investigating our first case even   
   though he said it was "probably nothing"?   
      
   Claiming that a boy who'd been in a coma for four   
   years was able to leave his hospital bed because   
   he was summoned by an alien impulse?   
      
   Jumping around in the middle of the pouring rain   
   claiming that we lost nine minutes of time?   
      
   Even now, it all sounds completely ridiculous,   
   yet somehow Mulder made it seem like it could   
   be real.   
      
   And he continued to do that throughout the first   
   year that we worked together.   
      
   Case after case, he challenged and intrigued me,   
   annoyed and frustrated me, and opened my eyes   
   to a world of possibilities I never would've   
   known existed if I had become a doctor instead   
   of joining the FBI.   
      
   And for that I'll always be grateful.   
      
   So, why the hell did I push him away after my   
   abduction?   
      
   Because I was afraid, that's why.   
      
   I was afraid to remember what happened to me,   
   afraid that if I did remember the horrendous   
   things that were done to me and I told them to   
   Mulder, he would be disgusted by me.   
      
   And I was afraid that he wouldn't want to work   
   with me anymore.   
      
   It's foolish, I know, especially since he'd proven   
   to me many times over that he cared about me, but   
   the more he pushed me to recover my memories, the   
   more I closed up.   
      
   And the more I closed off from him, the more he   
   started to avoid me.   
      
   At first I thought that he was just giving me time   
   and space so that I could process everything that   
   had happened to me, but then the times he stayed   
      
   away from me became longer, the phone calls fewer,   
   and eventually, even the time we spent together at   
   the office dwindled down to only a few hours a day.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
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