Title: Loup Garou X - Farewell
Author: Lycanthrophile (lycanthrophile@imadethis.org)
Fandom: The X-Files
Spoilers: Season 4
Disclaimer: Most of them belong to TenThirteen Productions. No copyright infringement intended.
Rating: PG13 for language
Summary: Jess ruminates at Mulder's funeral.
Word Count: 1,168
Archive: Please inform me


You selfish bastard.

I'm standing in front of your grave. And no matter how hard I try, I keep having these sad and angry thoughts. The sad ones are appropriate. The angry ones I can't express here, at your burial.

You went off and left her alone. You pulled the ultimate ditch on Dana, didn't you? All because you couldn't face the truth, you son of a bitch.

Or what you thought was the truth. Maybe what you thought was the truth was no more than a new lie.

And I can't believe you made her tell them. She barely had time to ID your body before she had to rush off to the hearing. I wish to a God I barely believe in anymore that I had got that call and not her.

But she was your partner, she should have done it. But I would have spared her that. I would have been willing to identify your remains, so she wouldn't have to remember seeing you with half your head blown off. Yes, it would be a burden to live with, seeing you like that, but I would have done so willingly, if to spare a dear friend from such pain. After all, I am, I mean was, your close friend.

And I do love you.

Not romantically, although once I thought I did. But I love you like a brother. And I know in a lot of ways, I substituted for Samantha in your mind.

Are you with Samantha now? Is she really dead like you feared? Are you with her and at peace? Or are you still wondering? Or are you asking 'why' like we are? Why did I/he give up? Why couldn't have I/they helped? Why didn't I/they see this coming and prevent it? Why did I/he leave them/us?

I stood in front of your mother, to 'comfort' her during the funeral as the tradition is. I know she never thought I was good enough for you when we dated. Doesn't every mother think that about her only son's girlfriend? But she was always so distant, so wounded and so defensive around me. I think she didn't like me because she saw so much of herself in me, but along a different path. I know she saw me at the service, but didn't didn't so much as blink at me. Only when it is my turn to 'comfort' the grieving mother, and we saw each other's pain did she not turn away from me. It's a small step, but a step.

And he was there too. The Cancerman. Always in the background, hiding among the shadows. But for once, I saw real human emotion on his face. No tears, that would be seen as a weakness, but a contained sorrow. He was genuinely sorry to see you dead. I caught his eye at one point, and nodded to him, showing that I knew he was there, even if no one else knew why. He greives your loss also, Mulder, but could never publicly show it. I think, in some twisted shadowy way, he did care for you. And somehow, I get the feeling that he was not directly involved in this, that he was unable to stop it.

And believe it or not, it looked like three quarters of the FBI turned out to pay last respects. Not only Skinner and Blevins, but many of the agents you butted heads with over your theories, the same ones who called you Spooky. Now they are here, honoring the brilliant man who so often gave them the clue that helped them solve some of their cases, but didn't want the credit. All you wanted to do was stay in the basement and pursue the truth, be it about an alien abductor or an all too human murderer.

The Lone Gunmen were here too. They were all subdued, in shock like the rest of us. Frohike sidled up to me at one point. He told me that he was looking for the one who caused this and asked if I wanted a piece of the man who drove you to suicide. I looked at him, about to make a cutting remark to the effect that this had better not be a sick pick up line, when I saw he was serious. I nodded. You may have put the gun to your head and pulled the trigger, but someone put the thoughts in your head that made you pick up the gun. That's murder as far as I'm concerned. I am a firm believer in an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, life for life.

I kept putting off going over to Dana. Talking to her would be putting the final nails in your coffin. She has been standing with her family, so brave, not letting out your final secret. Afraid that even in death, it could be used to hurt you. She has been mourning like a friend and partner, but not allowed to mourn as a lover. That will be done later, privately.

I finally got the courage up to talk to her. I put my arms around her neck and hold her close. "Dana, I am so sorry," I whisper. And then I lose control and begin to sob like a hysterical child. She holds onto me, greiving but controled. Looking at us, you'd think I was the lover and she was the best friend. Maybe it is better for people to think that, if it helps hide your secret. And you've kept mine for so long, this is the least I could do for you.

Now your casket is being lowered into the grave. I have one last act to perform. I loosen the ribon holding the boquet I brought to the funeral and toss it onto the casket, so the flowers scatter into the grave. Many had wondered at it since it was made of white and purple Digitalis purpurea and yellow Anconitum lycoctonum - foxglove and wolfsbane.

Hell, I thought it was fitting. I had to spend half the night on the phone before I found a florist who had them, so I wasn't going to let them go to waste.

It is almost time for me to leave, my friend. Lindy, brave soul, tried to come, but couldn't make it. She doesn't want to think that the first man she remembers who didn't try to take advantage of her is gone forever. And maybe I should have forced her to come, to face reality but I couldn't find it in my heart to do so. Alex wanted to come, but couldn't, not with the place crawling with FBI. It may be your funeral, but I'm sure some agents, looking for a commendation, would have made it his also. He will come tonight and mourn by the light of the full moon.

As will I. But for now I must say goodbye.

You selfish bastard.

The End.