Title: Surfacing:Building A Mystery

Author: Romantika

Spoilers: None really, a few references to Samantha+stuff...

Disclaimer: M+S belong to Chrissy baby and the title+all songs belongs to Sarah McLachlan...(who rules by the way!) Don�t worry, this isn�t Song Fic, it�s just the whole thing is based on the ideas formed in my mind while listening to Sarah�s album "Surfacing". (Ta for the inspiration Sarah!)

Author's Notes: I wrote this between the hours of midnight and 3:30am on 27-28th December in the middle of a thunderstorm, listening to...you guessed it, the "Surfacing" album. I hope it turned out OK--I want feedback!!!

Summary: Mulder's disappeared again and Scully has to find him in his world of darkness.

Part 1/10

-Building A Mystery

~~~~~~~~

This part is based on the song by Sarah McLachlan:~

You come out at night
That's when the energy comes
And the dark side's light
And the vampires roam
You strut your rasta wear
And your suicide poem
And a cross from a faith
That died before Jesus came
You're building a mystery

You live in a church
Where you sleep with voodoo dolls
And you won't give up the search
For the ghosts in the halls
You wear sandals in the snow
And a smile that won't wash away
Can you look out the window
Without your shadow getting in the way?

Oh you're so beautiful
With an edge and a charm
But so careful
When I'm in your arms

'Cause you're working
Building a mystery
Holding on and holding it in
Yeah you're working
Building a mystery
And choosing so carefully

You woke up screaming aloud
A prayer from your secret god
You feed off our fears
And hold back your tears

You give us a tantrum
And a know it all grin
Just when we need one
When the evening's thin

Oh you're a beautiful
A beautiful fucked up man
You're setting up
Your razor wire shrine

'Cause you're working
Building a mystery
Holding on and holding it in
Yeah you're working
Building a mystery
And choosing so carefully

~~~~~~~~

Scully awoke suddenly. Sweat was streaming down her face and her memory was etched with images of a nightmare that occurred almost every night since her recovery from cancer. In her dream, she would be reaching out for Mulder, but he was falling, falling into a deep, dark abyss that nobody could pull him out of. Except maybe her. But she couldn�t reach him and she didn�t know how else to get through to him, to help him come back to her. Mulder. Suddenly, she had a terrible feeling Mulder was in trouble. It wasn�t often she did anything on a hunch, however, she reached for the phone and pressed speed dial #1. The answering machine picked up.

"Mulder! Are you there? Please Mulder, if you�re asleep, wake up! Mulder, please!" If he was there, he would have picked up by now. Her brain told her to go back to bed, but something told her otherwise. *Help Mulder.* In a fit of worry, she ignored her brain and grabbed her trenchcoat.

She stepped outside the building. It was typical of Mulder to go missing on a stormy night with gale force winds. Gusts of wind tugged at Scully�s hair and the rain began to fall, only drips at first, but within a minute, sheets of rain were slicing through the cold December air, slapping onto Scully. Unnerved, she pulled open the car door with a great deal of effort, fighting against the wind. She drove a little too fast in the direction of Mulder�s apartment, the wind rocking the car dangerously now and then, but Scully bravely ignored it. When she was getting close, the rain was so heavy, she had to squint to see the road she was so blindly driving along. She hadn�t seen one other car since she�d left her own apartment. No-one else was crazy enough to drive in such a storm.

She finally reached his apartment building and ran up the stairs until she came to Door 42. She didn�t bother to knock, but just used her spare key and ran into the apartment. "Mulder? Mulder? It�s Scully! Are you home? Mulder!" she cried in vain, scanning the rooms quickly. Where was he? She wasn�t gonna give up just yet. "Can you keep it down? Some of us are trying to *sleep*!" She heard somebody from across the hall yell. She ran towards the direction of the voice and knocked on the door until an extremely grumpy-looking man with a beer belly opened it.

"What do you want?" he said gruffly.

"Um, my partner lives in the apartment across from you and he�s disappeared. I don�t suppose you know where he went?"

"Tall-ish with brown hair?"

"Yeah."

"He left about an hour and a half ago. I remember thinking how weird he is, always going out at strange hours. Why are you so worried now?" Scully realised what a state she must look like. But funnily enough, she didn�t care.

"Just...a hunch." The man lifted up his eyebrow. "Did he take his car?"

"No, I don�t think so. Look little lady, he probably just went jogging like he usually does. I�m not here to keep night watch. Good night." The door slammed in her face. She ran back downstairs and out into the storm once again.

She tried to empathise as Mulder. OK-Mulder. Not able to sleep, because he�s...thinking about...the government. Samantha. Krycek. The cigarette man. Melissa. My cancer. All Mulder�s ghosts that haunt him day and night. But it�s not until night that he has enough time to process all the guilt inside. It must just build up inside him until he can�t take it anymore, so he releases it, temporarily, by running. Running away from his ghosts. But he�s killing himself, if not physically, emotionally. His guilt is never permanently released, it just stays inside, knawing at him. She couldn�t let him slowly and painfully commit emotional suicide. She had to find him. But where was he?

She turned her head to look at all the landmarks within her vision, within running distance. Some shops. A park. A school. A town hall. A church. Somehow, despite Mulder�s anti-religious stance, the church seemed the most likely. She walked towards it and soon broke into a jog, which became a run, until she was sprinting as fast as she could towards the small building, recognisable as a church solely by the small cross which sat atop. Within a few minutes, she reached the door and surprisingly, it was open. Without a second thought, she assumed it to be one of those "open-24-hours-a-day-whenever-you-need-to-feel-close-to-God" churches. The old, cracked, wooden door creaked open slowly and Scully stepped inside.

As she came into the main room, she saw Mulder immediately, despite his bowed head. To anyone else, he was but a dark shadow lurking on a pew, but to her, he was Mulder in pain, which caused *her* more pain than the canccer ever did.

He heard the door creak open, but he didn�t need to turn around, he knew who it was. He knew she would find him eventually, as she always did whenever he needed her to. But despite his overpowering need to have her close, he didn�t want her to find him. He was vulnerable that night and knew that at this point, she could break down all his emotional barriers by just looking into his eyes. And he was scared. Scared of her, scared of his naked soul being exposed, scared of all his ghosts, past and present. And then, she was there.

He turned his head up towards her slowly. "Hey Scully. Fancy meeting you here. Small world, huh?" His light-hearted words were inappropriate in the current situation. He knew it and she knew he knew it. She squeezed into the pew, to sit next to him, their arms barely touching, but the contact was there nevertheless. She sat looking at him and an uncomfortable, seemingly lengthy silence fell between them. "How did you find me?" he asked softly. The five words echoed around the church.

"Guy from across your hall said you�d left without you car. I saw the church and I figured."

"Figured?"

"I figured you feel like you can free yourself from your ghosts, cleanse yourself of your worries with," she looked around her, "holy water." He looked at her in wonder and silently contemplated the possibility that they were long-lost twins. A sudden burst of wind hit the small church and threatned to rock it from side to side.

"Bad weather, huh?"

"Yeah, it was hell driving here."

"Sorry," he said sincerely, looking at her nose, her chin, her lips, anything but her eyes.

"Mulder. Look at me."

"I am."

"No. *Look at me.*" He looked into her eyes reluctantly. "You can�t keep letting your ghosts haunt you Mulder."

"I..." he paused momentarily, "...can�t let go of them either."

"You can�t let go of them?"

"Well, not all of them."

"Samantha?" He nodded.

"If I stop letting the "ghost" of her haunt me, then I�ve stopped looking. And I won�t ever stop looking for her, Scully. I *can�t* stop looking."

"But you�ve got to remember Mulder, that it�s not your fault that she was taken from you."

"But it would be my fault if I stopped looking for her."

"You�ve not stopped looking and I�m not saying you should. I�m saying you can�t keep taking all the blame for everything that�s happened to you, to me, to the world. �Cause eventually it�ll kill you, Mulder. And I�ll be the one taking the blame for not being there to help you when you needed me."

"You�re always here when I need you."

"Always," she repeated and he pulled her into a long, tight embrace. A second turned into a minute and a minute evolved into an hour and they didn�t let go, finding protection and warmth in each other�s arms. After a time, she looked up at him to see a soft smile on his face. His smile would never be washed away from her memory, but it erased all memories of her recurring nightmare. She had reached him.