Author: Becca.
Leave III: Empty
Rating:G
Not mine, cc's, all situations fictional etc.
Archive wherever, just let me know.
Feedback is lovely at nightgarden@hotmail.com
Part three of a three part series. Really helps to have read the first two.

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Empty.
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You're not coming back.

Now I realise that and it is as terrifying as my worst sweaty nightmares, as grim a realisation as I could ever have.

I'm scared, Scully.

How the hell am I supposed to make it without you?

And I'm angry.

Angered that you didn't tell me, didn't even have the courage to say it to my face.

You did once. In my hallway, in the half light, with shadows crossing your face. And then you stayed.

*You* were scared, weren't you? Frightened that if you told me I would only make you stay. I wouldn't even have to say anything; just take your head in my hands and dip my lips to meet yours. And we'd be lost in each other and then you could never go.

You know what made me finally realise? I went to your apartment. I wouldn't do that normally, would never go just to nose around. But I had to. I had to try and reclaim a little piece of you for my memory. To tide me over until I saw you again.

I was never prepared for what I found.

Empty.

Floors scraped clean of carpet, furniture packed away somewhere else. Every single item of clothing you owned gone. The curtains had even come down.

Almost empty.

You had left, in the middle of the bare floorboards, a photo of us. In a plain pinewood frame.

I remember that being taken. It was Frohike and his new camera- some souped-up thing for surveillance. We've both got a little half smile on, the ones that we wear when we're trying not to laugh. Funny how similar we look there.

And I know why you left it.

So I didn't think that this was all a conspiracy, so I didn't decide that they'd taken you again.

You left it as a goodbye.

And I couldn't think of any more fitting, more *you*, way to say it.

Didn't stop me from crying again, though.

I've never cried so much for anybody as I have for you.. You do that to me, Scully; rip my insides apart.

I sobbed with the realisation that this was it, that I would probably never see you again. Ever.

I hope you have a good life, Scully. I hope you go be a doctor, and that you find the guy who can make you happy, and adopt hundreds of little kids. I hope you make the life I could have never given you, however much I wanted to. I hope that sometimes, you will remember me, and tell tales of your old partner to those kids.

I hope you come back. I want you to.

But I don't think you will.

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end.
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