The Dion Files

All By Myself

By Jeannine Ackerson


Feb 4, 1997

Rating: PG for adult content of minimal levels.

Disclaimer (and all lawyers please take note): The X-Files and the characters portrayed therein are property of C. Carter, FOX & 1013 Prod. Celine Dion's song, "All By Myself" is also used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

Relationship: Mulder ANGST! I can't say this any more plainly than

that. Plus some Mulder/Scully romance.

Summary: Mulder feels the isolation of his life weighing on him after Scully stops speaking to him.

Hi all! Alright, here's another Dion File for you all. I noticed that when Jadar and I split these up, Somehow I got most of the Mulder Angst songs. (Must have been subconscious on my part. <g>) Anyhow, on to the story . .

With reckless indifference, Fox Mulder threw open his apartment door and walked in.

Kicking the door shut behind him, he tossed off his coat and jacket, letting them pool on the floor as he went. Next he attacked his tie, yanking at the knot with all the anger within him. It went flying off toward the couch as he continued to stalk into his place with the moves of a caged, agitated tiger.

It had been another long week of chasing shadows and getting his ass kicked by the Consortium. They'd led him around and he'd followed. Just like always. And when he thought that he'd finally got Them, They just turned the tables and changed the rules. And they'd lost every piece of evidence this time.

Not like they didn't always lose the evidence he swore to himself mentally.

No, what really was bothering him was the fact that he and Scully had fought the entire investigation. Not disagreed. Fought.

And now she wasn't speaking to him.

That wasn't really true. She just wasn't returning his phone calls. And was refusing to answer her door. And had called in sick the last two days instead of coming to work.

Ok, he admitted resignedly, she wasn't speaking to him.

He'd wandered over to the stereo and flipped on the radio. Turning it up loud enough to hear it in the kitchen, he wandered in to scrounge up something to eat. Maybe there was some leftover pizza or take out in there. All he knew was that he had to eat something.

Because if he didn't, he knew he'd be drinking on an empty stomach. Which would only make him sick, drunk and miserable. Tonight he just wanted a drink or two to dull the ache. To figure out how to fix things. To try and figure out why he kept pushing everyone he cared about away from him.

He wanted to figure out why he kept trying to ruin the best thing in his godforsaken miserable life.

A rock song had just finished on the radio as he found a carton of Chinese that he'd bought before this last trip. Sniffing it and throwing it in the microwave, he went about finding the bottle of vodka he'd saved for just such an occasion.

After a long search, he scrounged it up from the upper cabinet in his kitchen. Grabbing a glass, he began to pour, the only sounds in the room the chugging of the liquor, the humming of the microwave, the car advertisement on the radio and his own heavy breathing.

With a beep, he heard the microwave go off, and walked over with a fork and his glass. Shoving the fork in the mixture of noodles and chicken he picked it up and took it with him back to the couch.

Just as he sat down and was starting to take his first sip the DJ on his station came on. The guy announced that next up was going to be a new remake of an old Eric Carmen song, and they were playing both versions, the new one first. Then the song cued up and began to play.

It wasn't really rock. It was pop, and he grumbled about them playing it on *his* classical rock station.

The woman who was singing voice's was like velvet, and the words were rough in comparison. They punched him as solidly as if he'd been physically struck.

"When I was young

I never needed anyone

And making love was just for fun

Those days are gone"

He couldn't help let his mind flash for a minute to Phoebe, and the way she'd used him. Made his love for her a joke. How that experience had nearly wiped away his dreams of really falling in love.

Being in love forever.

"Livin' alone

I think of all the friends I've known

But when I dial the telephone

Nobody's home"

Then he thought for a moment of how he'd become "Spooky" Mulder, the Bureau outcast. How he'd been shunned and ridiculed for his ideas. Those people who might have admired him ignored him, those who didn't understand him feared him and his skills. All in all, he had no one to call friend in the Bureau. Or anywhere else for that matter.

His inattention had lost him any real friends he'd had before the X-Files. His life had become so focused, it left no room for anyone or anything else.

"All by myself

Don't wanna be

All by myself


He'd been alone for a long time now. And he had never thought that it would change. He never thought that there would be days when he desperately needed someone. Anyone . . .

"Hard to be sure

Sometimes I feel so insecure

And love's so distant and obscure

Remains the cure"

With a curse he berated himself for the unwitting lie. He knew who he needed. Who he wanted. The one person who had never treated him like a curiosity or with disdain. Hell, who trusted him even when he didn't trust himself. Who gave a damn about him even when he was rushing headlong into some stupid caper in the hopes of exposing the dark government that played games with him. With them.

"All by myself

Don't wanna be

All by myself


All by myself

Don't wanna be

All by myself


He didn't want this. Being alone like this. He wanted her back. He needed her to talk to him, forgive him. They had to work it out, because he didn't know how to go on without her. She was his . . . everything.

"When I was young

I never needed anyone

And making love was just for fun

Those days are gone"

Yes, those days were long gone, he thought. He wasn't the idealistic youth that he once was. After all the years and heartaches he had learned what he wanted and needed love to be.

And he was sure that she had everything he needed. Down in the bottom of his heart and soul he knew she was the one person who could change everything for him. Change him. And she had already begun to do that.

She had helped make his cause, his pursuit of the truth mainstream, acceptable. Had given him more strength than he could have ever had alone. Had supported and defended him, even against her better judgement.

She had made him more responsible for something bigger than his "truth". He wasn't just hiding in the basement, chasing after imaginary foes. He had a purpose beyond his own search. Now the answers to her questions had become as important to him as his own.

And she had made him a better man. He knew now what it was like to have everything and loose it, only to regain it again. Without realizing it, she had become as important to him as his "truth". As important as air.

"All by myself

Don't wanna be

All by myself


Suddenly the woman's voice hit a surprisingly high note and it brought his mind back to the words. Listening closely, it was like listening to the small part of his soul that he'd never allowed himself to hear.

"All by myself

Don't wanna live


Don't wanna live

By myself, by myself


By myself



As the song began to fade away, his photographic memory told him that there was supposed to be a few more lines, so he focused all his attention towards the stereo and strained to hear them.

"All by myself

Don't wanna live

I never, never, never

Needed anyone"

No, he never needed anyone. Except her.

He put down the drink with a thud on the coffee table. Getting up he threw the switch to turn off the radio. Then he had the phone in hand. With the punch of a button he had the speed dial calling her house. On the fourth ring the machine picked up. But he knew she was there.

"Dana, its me. I'm on my way over. Don't go anywhere, ok. I need to talk to you. I want to apologize for this week and I can do it much better in person. Just wait for me, please."

Grabbing his jacket and keys, he hit the door at a dead run. There wasn't any more time to waste. Not when the truth was staring him in the face.

And the consequences of not acknowledging it were so high. Too high.

Driving to Scully's was a blur. All he could do was try and piece together what he was going to say to her when he got there. Finally as he pulled into the lot at her apartment complex, he thought he had an idea. Shutting off the engine, he jumped from the car and headed straight into the building. Skipping the elevator, he opted for the stairs instead, taking them in leaps and bounds.

When her door came into view, he slowed to subsonic speeds and again reformulated what he was going to tell her. Tentatively he knocked a few times on the door. He wasn't just going to barge in if she'd open it for him. Standing there, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, worried that she wasn't home. He was hoping, praying that she was there . . . that she was willing to listen and accept his apology.

Just as he was about to reach for his key, the door eased open revealing the form and face of Dana Scully. The annoyance still showed in her features and posture. She stood there, leaning on the door, giving him one of her looks. The one that made him the most uneasy. It was one of indifference.

There was an unsettling silence around them. Mulder was waiting for an invitation inside, and Scully wasn't issuing one. With a slight sigh of resignation, she simply walked away from the door. Slipping inside, he shut it behind him and followed her to the couch. While she sat, staring intently at him, he stood, still feeling uncomfortable. Pacing a bit, he finally felt ready to enter the lion's den.

"Scully, I'm really sorry about this past week. My attitude was totally reprehensible and the way I treated you was way out of line," Mulder confided, glancing towards Dana, looking for a reaction. But she simply continued to stare at him, as if saying 'Yes, I know this. Go on.' with her eyes.

So he did.

"But I know you know I know that already. I try not to run over your opinions. You know how much I value them . . . how much I value you. It's just . . . dammit Scully, I'll say whatever you want me to, just talk to me! Tell me you're not leaving me!"

At that her eyes widened and her brows shot up, the realization of his words and fears hitting her suddenly. Her face fell, her eyes closing in pain and embarrassment.

"I'm not leaving Mulder," she said finally, her eyes meeting his. "I just hate when you treat me like a sidekick, not a partner. Like I can't pull my own weight. As if I can't take care of myself. And after five days of that, I just couldn't take it anymore."

"Don't you mean four years of it?"

"No Mulder. Ok, I admit that sometimes you forget there's anyone else on the planet besides you. Including me. But I know you never mean to exclude me. Or when you try to protect me. It's not because you don't think I can do my job, it's because you feel responsible for me. My well being. It's just the way you are."

Walking over to her seated position, he knelt down beside her. Taking one of her hands in his, he held it tightly. Almost afraid of what came next if he didn't have her hand in his to reassure him.

"I don't want to be a loner like that anymore Dana. I don't want to be by myself. I need you with me. Always," he admitted softly.

"No more running off or turning away when you get scared?" she asked suspiciously. He shook his head no. "No more ignoring me or being over-protective of me when we're working?"

"No more ignoring you or being over-protective or *anything*. Period. I've finally figured out how important you are to me. To my life. I'm not going to take you for granted ever again Dana Scully."

With that she smiled at him, a few happy tears streaking down her cheeks. The whole fight had started when he'd tried to protect her from a dangerous situation on their last case. And he'd been worse than ever. She knew why too. So as he ran over her abilities and her opinion, she'd ended up threatening him with losing everything. Because she wasn't going to live like that.

So when he'd refused to relent, she'd thrown his engagement ring in his face and stormed out.

"I love you Mulder. I really do. But you just have to let me take care of me. Ok?" she said quietly, laying her free hand over their joined ones.

"Alright. But you know I do it because I love you, and that I don't want to lose you," he explained.

"I know."

With that, he smiled his lopsided grin at her and fished his loose hand in his pocket. Finally he came up with what he was looking for . . . her ring. Which he'd had in his pocket for three days now.

Taking great care, he picked up her hand and slid the diamond and gold band back where it belongs. Then he looked up into her eyes, the pain and sorrow for everything he'd put her, put them both through showing in them. She then put her hands on his cheeks, tilting his face close to hers.

With that she kissed him lightly on the lips, with all the promise of their future in it. Then she pulled back and looked at him seriously.

"You're not going to be by yourself anymore Mulder. Not ever again."


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