Written- 11/??/98 Posted- 1/25/99 Desperation- Prolouge Author- Araxdelan (krycekluvsmulder@hotmail.com) Rating- R- Warning- Character Death (Ba Ba Bum!) Pairing- M/K Summary- Suicide! Disclaimer- If *I* owned them, maybe they wouldn't be suicidal. Prequel/Sequel- This prequel is meant to be read after the original story, *Desperation*, as an explaination of events in that story. There is a sequel to *Desperation*, and that can be read before or after this story, it doesn't matter. Notes- I'll try and write a happy story one day. And a sex scene. I’ve never been a patient person. Maybe that’s why I’m doing this. Now that my patron is dead, I'm of no use to them anymore, and they won't hesitate to be rid of me. The thought of waiting for them to decide it’s time, waiting for them to send some thug after me, the thought of giving them that power makes me sick. I decided only an hour ago that I’d beat them to the punch. Get myself before they do. I don’t have any reason to stay alive anymore anyway. Nothing in my life. My preparation for this moment was an attestement to this. I first bought the antique, ivory handled hunting knife that had been drawing my attention whenever I walked by the pawn shop near the motel I was living in. I then took the small knapsack of personal possessions I owned, and burned them into non-existence, leaving no trace of myself in this world, save my body, and my destruction. That was it. Nothing more, no one to say goodbye to. Except one man who wouldn’t want to hear me speak. Who wanted me dead. That was when I decided where I would die. Before that moment, I had no idea where I would end my life. A motel room or a back alley seemed seedy. But I could think of no place else to go. I had nowhere special. Until I realized Mulder should know that I’m gone, that one more of his "enemies" has parished. So he could rejoice in the fact that I was dead. And the worst part is that I love the bastard. He's a smart ass, brilliant, passionate, and quirky. And very paranoid. Always a plus, as far as I'm concerned. But he hates me. I had considered going there, saying my own personal goodbye to him, silently, after he'd fallen asleep. But this, this could be my apology. He would never know, and wouldn't forgive me if he did, but I'm not looking for forgiveness. I know I'm going to hell. So I broke into his apartment, quietly. I turned to his couch, expecting to see him in his usual position, and was surprised to see it empty. I walked down the hall, to his bedroom, and found him sleeping there. He looked sweet in his sleep, his body sprawled out before me. The body I longed for. The body I will never have. I took off my jacket, and quietly sat on the bed. Mulder was sleeping so soundly, that I thought, at first, that someone had slipped him something. But I then realized that he had probably collapsed into this rare deep sleep out of exhaustion. I kissed his lips, very lightly, and touched his stubbled cheek, for the first and last time. I briefly toyed with the thought of leaving a note, explaining why I left, but not even Mulder would care what happened to me. I sit here now, and smile grimly at the thought of what he'll do with my body. Probably dump it somewhere. So now I take the knife between my teeth, the intricately carved handle of the knife smooth against my tongue. Just like I imagine he would be. I drag my wrist across the blade. It's so sharp, it doesn't hurt at first. Then the wound burns. I can see the blood flowing, flowing, down my shirt. I let the knife drop from between my lips. "Goodbye Mulder." I whisper. I feel a bit light headed now, and as the blood begins to stain the sheets and flows to stain his skin I begin to wonder if I at least should have tried to make some peace. I close my eyes, and I can no longer move my body. Can't call out for Mulder to help me. I'm rising, rising above myself and I'm no longer me. I can see nothing. All I hear is the faint call of Mulder's voice, screaming my name. My name, saying he loves me. And I'm not anywhere. This, this is my punishment. An eternity knowing his love, but never being able to feel it. My own private hell. *-^-^-^-^-* The End *-^-^-^-^-*