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viviti

'IF I CLOSE MY EYES FOREVER'
By: Truthwebothknow

NOTE: I wrote this piece for another character in a different genre, then I heard this song and decided to rehash it for Mulder. There isn't much to identify the character until the end so I thought, what the hell. I'm on an X files kick here and this would not go away!!!
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Heaven is in the palm of my hand
And it's waiting here for you
What am I supposed to do
With a childhood tragedy.
If I close my eyes forever
Will it all remain unchanged
If I close my eyes forever
Will it all remain the same.


He stared blankly at the sky. The acrid smell of scorched fuel and a sickly odor of cooked flesh invading his lungs , burning a red-hot trail down his throat as his brain attempted to make a connection with his body. No movement, no sensation......

NOTHING!

The sun took on a hazy surrealness through eyes filled with clouds of blood. His mind screamed out urgent instructions, a series of demands that his battered body could do nothing about so they went ignored.

There was no memory, not even an inkling of his past life, no indication of reasoning for this personal tragedy that left him lying here, a discarded piece of flesh just left to rot.

Something tore at the peripheral of his consciousness, parting it forcefully, intricately until it had his body in rigors of fear.

A VOICE!

His eyes grew wide as he strained, ignoring the sting of blood mingled tears for maximum vision. Not that he could make any sense of his surroundings.

As the voice grew more distinct, so did his fear until he was a trembling, petrified mass. His whole body shrieked at him for relief, which never came and although a scream formed in his tortured throat and lodged there, unable to make the transition into anything audible. Not even the weakest noise escaped him. Through the pain, the confusion and general chaos lighting up his body like a Christmas tree, he sensed his strength ebbing away from him.

MUST KEEP AWAKE!

There must have been some minute vestige of spirit left in his body, for as he tried to lift his head he was rewarded with the slightest movement. He paid dearly for it when a dizzying kaleidoscope of colors and visions swept over him, making his skull smash back down on the hard, compacted earth, knocking all remaining air forcefully out of his body. Some of the blood cleared in his eyes, replaced by the eye's own natural saline and he was able to focus at last.

Through his agonized breaths and rapidly increasing dizziness, he stared down at the sticky, crimson stream meandering in the dirt, twisting away from his body like a fleeing wild serpent. He didn't know how much time had elapsed since he had come to lie there. All he knew was that feelings of any sort had long deserted his frail bleeding body. He then wondered how it was that he had reached conclusion of this implication with such disturbing, calm but his brains felt as fried as his body right then and it slammed the door on any tangible answer with swift effectiveness.

THE VOICES AGAIN!

They grew louder, the sounds hammering in his brain, clear as a bell now, many times amplified. Distorted beyond sense. Terrifying. He tried holding his breath. Pain and nausea overcame him at once as his body gave up on him again and forced his lungs to suck inward, creating a fresh dimension of sheer excruciating pain. Hopelessness ambushed him without mercy.

The sun above was strong and unrelenting as if it were actually laughing at his predicament, and just lying there on the ground he could see no end to his torture except for death. He found himself praying that it wasn't too far away. If I close my eyes forever, just close them and let go......

He had an ugly perspective now. One that had him pleading against the awful realization that he didn't remember who he was, no good memories to bid him farewell, no familiar family faces to take comfort in now, his darkest hours.

Nothing at all. It wasn't death he was afraid of but the fact that he had no identity, no name for his epitaph, no one to cry at his graveside. It scared him rigid.

So this is what it was like to die with his mind wiped clean. What a dreadful indictment on someone's life. Surely there was nothing worse than this? He clung to a desperate hope that he would remember something. Anything, even, ....even if it was in the penultimate second before his heart gave up on his pathetic broken corpse.

A large predatory bird sat on a sharp overhang of rock above the sad figure below. It watched with indecent interest as the flies picked and buzzed around what was to be its next meal. It just sat there, exercising its bizarre pre-dinner ritual by swaying and gently undulating its scaly, bald head, waiting for the inevitable to happen. It screeched loudly, smelling its prey's impending death in the air. Tearing flesh, picking bones clean. It's mood more impatient with each fresh scent picked up from its intended victim, its yellow beak gleaming in the fierce sun. Suddenly without warning, it let out an ear splitting screech! Lots of smaller birds nearby took flight in terror, scattering in all directions. Their combined exodus creating a maelstrom of flying loose rock, dust and feathers...., Which cascaded down on the frail, motionless figure below.

He made an abortive effort to shield his eyes as the thundering rocks competed loudly with his pounding heart. The dust and debris raining down all over him made him choke and gasp.

There was no defense he could offer against the relentless falling rocks that impacted with his body; one by one they hit him, his face, his hands becoming red pulps, feeling the warm eerie gush of blood run down his body, layered on top of what had already slicked out all over him after the crash. As he prayed for death the rocks continued to fall covering half of his body, turning his dark hair to chalk white. His clothes torn like bloody rags, indistinguishable from the rest of the chaos of smashed bone, crushed organs and blooded earth. Despite all this, he sensed he was still alive, but just barely.

Breathing was almost impossible. He had survived but he no longer felt any pain from the rocks that still fell against his body. How was that possible? Flashes of people's faces fought their way into his troubled mind. Smiling faces that he thought he should recognize but didn't. He saw the warm eyes of a woman with an angelic smile and flaming red hair, calling him by a name he couldn't hear. Pictures without sound, faces without names, just like him. If this was the past, it was devoid of any clues. He heard a woman's frantic voice, "Mulder? Oh God, Mulder......" then nothing more.

Suddenly, he was aware of a new sensation. Not pain but a strange, almost tranquil consciousness. He felt as light as a shadow on the wall, just floating and swaying, seeing nothing, feeling nothing.

He opened his mouth to speak but no words came from it. Time passed .The floating persisted, just like the crashing of his heart - some malevolent being fighting for room in his chest. There was no panic, just a sickly warmness about everything that should have unnerved him. His brain was curiously telling him to be afraid in direct contradiction with his body, almost if they had been separated somehow. He found himself thinking it was strange, and then the thought struck at him: Was he already dead? Was this some sort of odd nightmare of his brain's own creation? He had known way of knowing. It was as if his mind and soul had taken leave of his body and was being propelled at light speed through space and time. He took comfort in that notion but couldn't fathom why.

Then the sensation changed again! After the floating, he became increasingly surprised and alarmed to be so still again. He clawed desperately at the sanctity of the remaining calm in his body but it finally abandoned him, tossed him aside like a lost cause, not looking back and finally he slipped, still fighting it, into the dark eeriness of unconsciousness.

"Mulder?" That gentle voice he'd heard before in the midst of his nightmare cut through the blaring monitors, that sterile odor that told him he was languishing in his favorite hotel, the ICU, each syllable stroking his raw heart and easing its trembling.

He felt cool peppermint breath against his cheek, so close to him now. Warm

fingers barely stroking his temple. Strands of hair tickling his face as his Demerol heavy eyelids felt compelled to try and open. For her.

His eyes were gritty, blurred, but then there she was, he focused on perfect deep blue orbs as they swam into view. She smiled nervously and something broke open inside of him.

Her eyes said how much they loved him and he felt his battered lips pull into a shaky semblance of a smile. A single tear caught the light and spilled down her cheek.

"It's going to be all right, Mulder, You are in Denver University Hospital. You had a car accident. Someone ran you off the road and forced your car into a ravine. You were hurled through the windscreen. The girl you came to see, the psychic, she dreamed... or said she dreamed where you were. It's a good thing she did, or we would have never found you. You were out all night, its been touch and go. "

She sighed and looked away, catching her breath, everything came out in a stream, momentarily locked in a hell that he had no memory of but could see in her eyes, in the way she breathed. "Its bad Mulder, your like a broken doll. You've been here comatose for three weeks. I won't lie." She took a deep breath. "You really outdid yourself this time. You have multiple serious injuries that read like a grocery list. You broke just about everything, Mulder, what you didn't break you lacerated or dislocated. Legs, ribs, pelvis. A couple of vertebrate. Your spinal cord is bruised and you have a skull fracture. They iced you to bring the brain swelling down. Then you kept trying to die on us." She blinked, barely holding on to control. " But you are here, you're alive and you have more metalwork inside you than "T2" Airports are going to be fun from now on. It's going to be rough, Mulder, this will be a long haul and there's just no getting out of here in a hurry. Together we will get through this. I Promise." Warm fingers squeezed his hand, the only part of him he could feel.

More tears.

"Who am I, Mulder? Do you recognize me?" Eyes that were filled with love also harbored so much fear.

" ...Scully" he mouthed silently around the myriad of intubations. If he tried really hard, he could just move his middle finger against her warm palm. He felt his hand brush against her cheek as she lifted it to her lips and kissed him, each swollen finger.

She was the only thing that made sense. Her eyes had called him back from the abyss. Anything else they said with their eyes negated the use of words. He was safe and she was by his side. Fingers that worried lightly against his heavily bandaged chest reiterated that to his heart. Nothing else mattered but that knowledge.

"Shhh, Sleep now." Her voice was barely a whisper as she pressed her lips lightly to his, carefully avoiding the tubing. "I'm here." Soft fingers gently stroked his hair, his tension sliding away with her loving touch.

Mulder tuned out the monitors concentrating only on her soft words as they caressed him; his breathing and heart rate easing him back into sleep. Despite everything, he relaxed, relief tumbling inside him like butterfly wings. Now he could close his eyes. Not forever.

Just for now, just for a little while, safe in the knowledge that the only bright light of his existence would be shining there when he opened his eyes again.

 

End

 

Baby, I get so scared inside
And I don't really understand
Is it love that's on my mind
Or is it fantasy.

Heaven is in the palm of my hand
And it's waiting here for you
What am I supposed to do
With a childhood tragedy.
If I close my eyes forever

Will it all remain unchanged
If I close my eyes forever
Will it all remain the same.
Sometimes it's hard to hold on

So hard to hold on to my dreams
It isn't always what it seems
When you're face to face with me.

You're like a dagger and stick me in the heart
And taste the blood from my blade
And when we sleep would you shelter me
In your warm and darkened gaze.
If I close my eyes forever
Will it all remained unchanged
If I close my eyes forever
Will it all remain the same.
Will you ever take me
No, I just can't take the pain
But would you ever trust me
No, I'll never feel the same, Oh.

I know I've been so hard on you
I know I've told you lies
If I could have just one more wish
I'd wipe the cobwebs from my eyes.
If I close my eyes forever
Will it all remained unchanged
If I close my eyes forever
Will it all remain the same.
Close your eyes
Close your eyes
You gotta close your eyes for me.
........................................~'Close My Eyes Forever' Written by Lita Ford & Ozzy Osbourne (1992)

 

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Disclaimers: A long time ago in a Galaxy far, far away, lived a blonde surfer dude called Chris. He created two of the best characters ever to grace the silver screen but he was a spoilsport and wouldn't let them out past bedtime or have any fun. I'm liberating them because it's about time they came of age. I'm only borrowing them to amuse myself and shut up my muse. They are still owned by Fox and 1013 and of course Chris, though he has neglected them of late.. Mulder and Scully belong to each other and William. I'll give them back after I've finished playing with them. No David Duchovnys were harmed in the making of this fan fic but I shamelessly did the deed to his alter ego. Suing would be a pointless exercise as I am as stony as a Biblical execution!!! LoL


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