Title: Folded Like A Saint
Author: kim1013
Category: V
Spoilers: post-Requiem, but not really Let's pretend the 8th season won't happen.
Archive: Sure, just let me know so I can visit!
Disclaimer: Hey, guess what? They don't belong to me! Bummer.
Thanks: To Melissa, my Beta and fellow writer who inspired me. Also to Velvit for more inspiration.

Summary: Introspection in the future leads to a shock form the past.

Time is a universal invariant. It does not change and it cannot be rewound or made to go faster. When my life changed irrevocably ten years ago, I thought for sure my world, as I knew it, would change forever and time would certainly reverse for me, just once. But time did not change. Or even pause for one brief second and I was forced to move forward.

As the unexpected life in my body grew, I hoped and prayed reverently that the one who is my constant, as I am his, would return to me. He did not. And as days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and the months in turn turned into long years my memory began to dim and the hope for any hope at all soon vanished.

My children grew and the quest to save the world from the end waned. I wondered if those men were right. Or was the end of the world only for me? When he did not return my world ended. My work is more mundane now, I am a pathologist at Quantico and have a small group of friends who pretend that the father of my children died before they were born. If only that were true.

My introspections of how my life has gone came to a glass-breaking halt one day in the brightness of a summer sun. My doorbell rang at 1:33 on a Monday afternoon. Funny how I always aligned him with the darkness and the hide-and-go-seek nature of nighttime.

Melissa answered the door. When I heard her call my name, her still child-like voice seemed to deepen, as if she knew this would be a pivotal moment in time.

I came down the stairs a naive mom fumbling through the world of the young. When I saw who was at the door my mind clicked and transported to ten years in the past to when a future with him in it was remotely possible. How I felt; how I live, all forgotten for a second seemed an eternity.

I felt the blood drain from my face and Missy rushed to my side. She called for her twin brother. William came from the kitchen where he was cleaning his lunch dishes and asked what was wrong. Funny how with their names I still clung to the past. I said the only thing I could think of, laden with past promises: "Mulder?"


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