Do You Want This to End? by Agent_410 Email: box9missingno@hotmail.com Rating: PG to PG-13 Spoilers: Season 10 A week had gone by before Mulder had noticed that she had gone. He didn't think she'd actually follow through on what he had said ("Do you want this to end?", he asked her. She sighed and said, "I'm not sure what I want anymore, but I do need to have some space. I'm worried about you, you have been distracted by so much lately that I'm not sure if you love me anymore or if you even care about our relationship." He looked at her and told her that he did love her and that their relationship meant everything to him, but he wasn't sure that it was enough anymore.). He looked out his bedroom window and wished that he could take it back, so that she'd stay. She wanted him to get help, he refused, said that he wasn't depressed and that he wasn't obsessing over how 2012 didn't pan out like he had been told. That what he had been lead to believe in wasn't just a lie, a farce. He felt that his whole life had become a bad joke. He'd seen more than his share of charlatans both on TV and heard them on the radio. Seen them be far more successful than he ever was. He wondered why they had made it, why they were believed, and Scully told him that it didn't matter, that at least they had tried and that she believed him, even if things didn't work out or turn out in the way that he expected. Life had handed him a decent hand, but now it seemed as if it was a glass that was half empty, that it had passed him by. He thought of how she had tried to get him to take some writing classes and was willing to take them with him if it would help him move on. He tried, but instead of helping him, it made him more frustrated. Nothing he wanted to write about would ever have half a chance to ever get published, he thought. Scully let him know that it isn't the complete truth. Other writers have gotten published, writing similar stuff to what he had experience in and knew about. He told her that he'd have to lie about it, and that it wouldn't feel right. She said that it wasn't a big deal, that it was better to do that than to risk their lives at the expense of getting the whole truth out there. Better to do it in bits and pieces than to get too much attention. "Why?", he kept asking himself. "Why is it that others can get away with doling out information about the truth, but when I try to do so, I get ridiculed, spit on and kicked in the face?" This question has eluded him, even after Scully told him about how they did. He ruminated about it. And by the end of their relationship, he figured that he was worthless. Scully had started packing her bags and was getting ready to move out and he didn't make a move. He could have kicked himself over not trying to get her to stay. For being so down on himself, that he felt that there was nothing that he could have done to try and save their relationship. Time was moving like molasses these days, and the depression that he had felt was covering him like the black oil that had once infected him. He looked up ways to try to get help, but most of them seemed too complicated. He called up a local psychiatrist to set up an appointment, but once the day arrived, he was so busy that he'd forgotten about it. He tried again another day and made it there, only to find out that the doctor's office was closed. He was tired of feeling like a failure, that nothing that he tried to do seemed to work. That he was just running around in circles, and nothing felt like it would help. But at least he was moving again now. Depression be damned. He picked up the phone to get help, if nothing else it would be a step in the right direction. This time he planned on making it to his appointment, to get the help he needed and to try to get Scully back in his life again. He wasn't going to give up that easily and he wasn't going to let depression win. He wanted to be with her again, and if that meant going to get help, then so be it. It was better to swallow his pride and go forward then to live in helplessness.