Feedback: hquilley[at]gmail[dot]com
E-mail: Helen Quilley
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Fox etc.
Spoilers: SUZ and Closure
Summary: a typical day will be anything but typical for him.
Everything on the street seems so normal. The lawns of the
quaintly manicured homes are so perfectly green, they appear
painted on. The leaves, each moving independently in the breeze,
somehow also manage to move together in symphonic harmony. The
sun glows brightly over everything. He wishes he could immerse
himself in this simple perfection and aches because he can't.
He notices a young couple with their baby - a girl, he
thinks -
walking their dog and enjoying the lovely morning. The couple is
doing their best not to look at the hearse parked along the
curb, but can't help doing so out of respect - or at least
acknowledgement that today, while a typical day for them, will
be anything but typical for someone else.
He stares solemnly out the window of a bare, third-floor
room,
hands in his pockets, feeling desperately alone. He knows now
that his sister is dead, his father is dead, and now his mother
is dead, too. The nakedness of the room he stands in befits him,
as he feels stripped of any protective armour he may have once
worn. Instead, he feels exposed and vulnerable.
He wasn't especially close with either of his parents
as an
adult and wonders if they knew that what drove him all these
years was the search for the security and comfort he knew for
such a short while with them and his sister. He feels regret
like a sunburn now and closes his eyes wishing he were anywhere
but here.
When his eyes open he sees Scully approach the driver
of one of
the vehicles parked behind the hearse and has a brief
conversation with him. He notices how tiny she looks and
fleetingly wonders if others see her that way when she's
standing next to him. He sees her turn to look up at the window
of the room she left only minutes earlier. It's his cue that
they're ready to make their way to the cemetery. Slowly, he
pulls himself away from the spot he's been rooted to and moves
his leaden feet, carrying his leaden heart along with him.