Designed by Hugo Borchardt c.1893 and manufactured until 1902 in small numbers by Ludwig Loewe & Co in Berlin, Germany. 7,65x25mm Borchardt 8-round removable box magazine, toggle-lock short-recoil semi-automatic, detachable stock/holster. The predecessor to the Luger Parabellum pistol, first selfloading pistol to be mass produced and one of the few toggle lock firearm out there. Arguably the sexiest.
The two of us, we assume that we’re just friends. Just friends. But whenever I look into your eyes, you tell me that we’re more than just mere acquaintances. Our eyes love to acknowledge each other, always wanting to lock eyes. When we make eye contact, you can’t just tell me you look at all your friends the same way as you look at me. Though neither of us utters a single word to each other, I could tell what you were telling me with every glance you made towards me. And I thought I was shy, too bashful to reach out to you, however, you were also as shy, only communicating to me with your eyes. Though you were never the guy that anybody would ever label as unconfident, always loud and talkative with your close friends. But only with me, you were enveloped in your introverted circle. Why does love have to be so complicated? We know our feelings for each other, yet both are too scared to do anything. Nether less, you wouldn’t consider us just friends right? We share too much enigma to just classify us only as just friends. Let’s just label us as lovers with unspoken words. Because we don’t need words when the heart is purely true since love can be heard even in the deadliest silence.
NOTE: I might not be able to answer or comment for the next few weeks … going on vacation in Italy but I’m gonna try this scheduling thing to see if these will continue to post while I’m gone :) …
She’d shown up on Maggie’s porch a few days after
Thanksgiving with a carefully packed suitcase and pain so evident on her face
that her mother cried while Scully stood quietly in her arms.
It wasn’t until two days later that Maggie, nearly
asleep, felt the mattress dip and her youngest daughter crawl under the covers
with her, seeking refuge in the familiar embrace of the one person in the world
she had left to trust.
Twenty minutes later, Maggie continued rubbing her
daughter’s back while Scully took a deep breath, whispering out, “I had to
“Did he stop taking the medication?”
Shaking her head against her mother’s arm, “He’s
been throwing out the pills or throwing them back up. He says he doesn’t like
how they make him feel, like he’s dead inside but when he doesn’t take them, he
stops doing anything.” Sniffing, then clawing for a Kleenex behind her from the
nightstand, “this time it’s been nearly two weeks since he showered and he
hasn’t written anything for months and when he does get up, he locks himself in
the basement on his computer looking for what he missed.”
“What he missed?”
“Why it didn’t happen? What clue or evidence did he
not pay close enough attention to? When did the date change? Will it happen
tomorrow or today or in a month? When will it happen now?”
The abrupt way her daughter stopped made Maggie
believe there was more. Pulling Scully closer, she kissed the crown of her
head, asking in a whispered voice, “but what happened to make you suddenly
appear on my front porch?”
Slipping from her mother’s arms, she stood, wiping
her nose before her face crumpled again, fresh tears racing down her cheeks,
“he, um … he decided that the new date would be last Friday and when I got home
from Thanksgiving dinner here, I found the house shut up and locked which,
while not unusual now, I also found him sitting on the stairs just inside with
a shotgun, waiting for me or whoever else may show up before I did, unannounced
because the invasion had begun.”
Maggie, sitting up by now, covered her mouth, “did
he fire it at you? Dana …”
Holding up her hand, “no, he didn’t but he dragged
me downstairs and kept me down there for two days while he waited for the end
and,” embarrassment was driving her tears now, “I argued and I yelled and he
wouldn’t let me leave and I just … I can’t do it anymore.” Pacing now, “I can’t
have him pulling me out of bed because of a new theory. I can’t take not knowing
what I’m going to find when I come in the front door. He won’t listen to reason
anymore and … … and I told him, once he let me back upstairs, that I was
leaving … for good … and when I did, he didn’t even come to the steps.”
This last part twisted the knife in Maggie’s heart.
She loved her Fox but Dana came first and letting
her anger explode in one expletive puff of rage, “that God-damned asshole needs
to grow up and realize he is useless, worthless and hopeless without you!”
Scully’s laugh burst out, a wet, hitching,
heart-breaking, wry sound that segued immediately into sobbing, propelling her
back into bed, this time her head on Maggie’s lap, “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
He was better off without her there to distract him.
He had things to do. He’d been trolling chatrooms, archives, hacking as best he
could, learning his way through systems, tracing would-be clues, listening to
police bands and military chatter, talking to a man who reminded him so much of
Frohike that he began to believe that maybe the Gunmen weren’t dead after all
but just hiding deep, deep underground, waiting for their moment to materialize
back into the real world.
Two days since he’d heard her call downstairs that
she was leaving.
Or maybe three.
Did he eat today? There was a dirty dish in the sink
but it may have been hers … or his … from before.
He needed more paper for the printer.
What was that smell?
Shouldn’t she be home from work by now? Maybe she
was. Maybe he’d just missed her.
She must be here. There’s a pile of dirty dishes
now, in the sink and on the counter. Why hadn’t she done the dishes? It was her
week to do them.
He thought it was anyway.
Was it possible that the invasion had been just a
year off? Maybe the ships had been delayed? Oh, God, what if they were coming
Scully, where the hell was Scully?
Fumbling for the phone, he heard a clicking now and
immediately hung up. Land lines were bad. Land lines could be bugged.
He had a firewall and scramblers and could talk over
his computer if he needed to.
She wasn’t at the hospital. She didn’t work that
day. Why did the staff sound suspicious of him? Did they know he knew something
they didn’t? Where was Scully?!
Maggie. Maggie might know. She should know. Maggie.
Maggie. Maggie. Call Maggie.
“Fox, she’s not here right now. She’s out doing some
Breathing easier, “good,” then hung up.
She would be back in an hour and they’d sit down and
talk about the new date.
What is that smell? Was that him?
Had she come home yet?
Looking through the cupboards, he saw them emptier
than before, no vegetables in the drawer, no milk in the carton. Why hadn’t she
said ‘hello’ to him when she got back after shopping?
He needed to lie down, the headache encompassing him
driving him to the couch, the world spinning, the world closing on him, the
world melting into fiery chaos then dripping in darkness, terrifying,
Why wasn’t she home yet?
“Scully, where are you? You didn’t come home
yesterday from grocery shopping.”
Nearly dropping her phone in the doctor’s lounge
where she was forcing down a salad and sandwich, “Mulder?”
“Yes, it’s me. Who the hell else would it be? Where
“I’m at work, Mulder. What’s wrong?”
“You need to come home right now. We need to prep
the basement some more. The new date is going to be the 21st. I
think we just got the year wrong. You need to come home and help get ready.”
Shutting her eyes, she fought to keep the tears from
dropping, “Mulder. I’m at work right now and then I go back to Mom’s. I told
you last time you called that I was staying there now, remember?”
He sure as hell did not remember! He’d have
remembered that conversation and telling her that in no uncertain terms, he
heard her say good-bye, then hang up.
He needed to lay down.
Washing a dish when he needed it, he ate something.
He hadn’t slept in two days but he had boarded up
the back windows. The back door. Barricaded so nothing could get through
without a lot of assistance and a battering ram and even then, it would take
awhile. Moved out Maggie’s chair. Took up too much room. He needed the room. He
needed the space for the camping gear, the propane tanks, the extra sleeping
bags, the sandbags for shoring up walls.
He grew weary of calling Scully. He did it every
hour on the hour or … was it once a day? Twice a day? Time didn’t pass right in
the basement. Climbing up the stairs, he took a shower, wondering where her shampoo
Why didn’t she just say ‘hi’ to him when she got
The bed was made so she must have done that before
she went to work.
“Scully, you need to come home right now! I don’t
want you on the roads when it begins.”
“Why are you crying? We’ll make it through. We
always do. We’ll come out of this and we’ll beat them all and we’ll have a
planet all to ourselves.”
“I have to go to work, Mulder.”
Ten minutes later, against her better judgement, she
answered the phone while in the car, knowing it was him but still not able to
ignore him, “what is it, Mulder?”
“Will! We have to go get Will! There’s no one to
protect him! He doesn’t know what’s going to happen!! We need to go get him,
bring him home! We only have a day left, Scully! We need to go get him!”
Nearly running into the car stopped ahead of her,
she slammed on the brakes, pulled onto the shoulder and hung up the phone,
turned it off, smashed it on the steering wheel, slammed it on the dashboard
for good measure, then pitched it out the window, watching until at least three
cars had sped over it, scattering a minimum of 38 pieces of cellular nonsense
across four lanes of traffic.
She finished her shift in peace, the only things
keeping her together and distracted were her patients, who needed all the brain
processing power she had left. Driving back to Maggie’s, she kissed her mother
on the cheek, then curled up in her old bed, staring at the wall until far into
the night when, exhaustion winning, she drifted off, restless and scared.
The next morning, the hospital called politely
asking her if everything was okay and to tell her that someone had been
bothering them all night with calls asking for her. Apologizing profusely, she
emailed Mulder a simple, “I am not at work. Do not call me there. I will get
fired. See you on the other side of the apocalypse.”
After removing the last line, she sent it to him,
then popped Maggie’s phone off the hook and went back to bed.
He was overwrought that she wasn’t with him. She
would die out in the open and he would be alone in the world. There would be no
point to anything after that. All this had been for her. To keep her safe. To
keep her alive. To keep her with him forever.
What that a plane overhead?
That low thump outside?
Was she home?
Did she come home because she believed?
Could he take the risk of unlocking the doors to let
What if it was them?
What if they had silently taken over the world? Were
coming for him?
What if they had Scully already?
One. Two. Three. Four.
That’s how many walls there were.
One. Two. Three. Four.
That’s how many socks he had on,
One. Two. Three. Four.
He collapsed on the couch against the wall, the rows
and rows of canned goods swimming, weaving as he passed out from lack of food
and terror at what might be happening above.
Scully slept through December 21st.
She stretched herself awake on the 22nd
and made breakfast for her and Maggie.
She stared out the window at the cold, clear blue
sky, bare trees whipping in the frigid wind, sun bright but far away, summer
yellow having faded to pale tones, near white, warmth meager but making a valiant
effort to thaw her just a few moments at a time.
They set up her mother’s Christmas tree that day,
decorated the house, prepped for Christmas Day dinner, 15 people strong, not
counting Mulder, which she had done accidently twice now, her heart skipping a
beat whenever she realized he wouldn’t be there beside her.
Bill, Tara and the boys arrived on the 24th
but didn’t ask about Mulder, having been appropriately warned by Maggie to, in
politer terms, shut up about him.
She tried her best to be social, to be present and
accounted for but when the first wave of her panic attack hit, she quietly
disappeared up to her temporary living quarters on her mother’s floor, having
been de-roomed by her nephews. Shutting the door, she took ten minutes to get
herself back under control, her breathing less erratic, her heart still
thumping hard but the light-headed feeling lessening.
Changing her sweat-soaked shirt, she washed her
face, took a deep breath and reciting the periodic table, symbol, atomic weight
and at least two characteristics for each element, she returned to her family,
waving off her mother’s questioning look and Bill’s angry one.
Christmas Day was no better. In theory, more people
meant more distraction but reality screamed at her that he wasn’t there, that
he might be dead somewhere in their house, that he hadn’t tried to call
Maggie’s house once since she’d emailed him.
Presents were unbearable, the happy faces of kids
and adults twisted like hot knives through her soul, each laugh, each giggle,
each thank you and exclamation another icepick stabbed to her brain, the
pressure headache building behind her eyes to the point where she excused
herself to vomit from the pain.
Drugs didn’t touch it and finally, she was forced to
admit defeat, retreating yet again upstairs, puking a second time before
folding herself in the corner of the room, knocking her head lightly against
the wall, an old trick she hadn’t resorted to for years in attempts to distract
one major pain with a steady stream of minor ones.
She fell asleep there eventually, only to have
Maggie wake her by shaking her shoulders, “Dana? Honey? Are you okay? Why are
you on the floor?”
Having slipped to the ground sometime after drifting
off, she sat up, her headache down to a quietly manageable roar, “I was
knocking the wall to help with my headache.”
Knowing this was one of her daughter’s coping
techniques for pain, she didn’t inquire about it further, “we’re eating dinner.
Would you like to come down or would you like me to bring you a plate?”
She wasn’t hungry in the least but she had a clarity
about her next actions, “I’m okay. I’m not hungry but if you could save me a
plate, I’ll eat when I get back.”
With a sad smile, she combed her fingers lightly
through Scully’s hair, “are you going to go check on him?”
It felt like defeat, like retreating, like giving in
when she should be steadfast and strong, “I have to make sure he’s okay. I
won’t stay but I can’t abandon him. Not right now. Not ever probably.” Sighing
deeply, she only met her mother’s eyes when Maggie tilted her head in her
direction, “but I don’t know that we’ll ever be your Fox’n’Dana again.”
Maggie pulled her into a hug, “I’ll love him anyways
and always. Make sure he knows that.”
It was fairly late by the time she pulled up to the
house. It was dark and silent once again, but this time, the windows were
boards and the motion sensor didn’t turn the porch light on. Cautiously, she
used her key, opening the door slowly and calling his name, fearful she’d find
him with his shotgun on the stairs again.
Instead, everything was normal.
Except for the smell of rotting trash and sawdust.
Not worrying about that, she made for the basement
steps but noticed his feet hanging over the end of the couch in the living
room. Beelining there instead, she saw his matted hair, three week old beard,
dirty white shirt and holey socks. Not sure she could, should or would wake him
up, she watched until she was sure he was breathing, then gently set her gift
on the coffee table in front of him.
Noticing he hadn’t decorated, she was almost
grateful, not wanting to think about past Christmas’s and definitely not
wanting to see their ornament collection judging her for abandoning both it and
Sneaking back out, she locked the door behind.
The following afternoon, once Mulder had woken up
from his liquored stupor, he noticed the holiday gift bag sitting in front of
He couldn’t bring himself to look but he didn’t
throw it away either.
He instead tucked in a drawer in the rolltop desk
and returned to his half-bottle of Jack Daniels.