Welcome To The Harem

Divergence by Emily M.
Summary: Deslea's rec: "A bittersweet Diana POV on a painful choice. The ties that bind her to Mulder and threaten to tear her apart are exquisitely drawn in this quiet moment of loss." Summary: "Two choices. One will destroy you, the other will save you from everything but a broken heart." Mulder/Diana, pre-XF.

Title: Divergence

Author: Emily M.

E-mail: simply.me3@verizon.net

Feedback: Begging is undignified, but I won't let *that* stop me.

Rating: PG

Category: VRA

Keywords: Pre-XF, Mulder/Diana Romance

Spoilers: Nah.

Summary: "Two choices. One will destroy you, the other will save you from
everything but a broken heart.

Thanks to the amazing Deslea for the beta. You rock! :)



by Emily M.


It's one in the morning and he's awake again. You woke up when he did. Felt
the bed shift and heard the soft sound of his feet as he walked to the
bathroom. Heard the sound of water running. Heard the TV go on in the living
room -- loud at first, then quickly turned down until you couldn't hear in
anymore. You know he's out there now, shuffling through papers, obsessive as
always. A little kid with a favored toy. Except this toy could hurt him,
maybe even kill him.

You didn't know that at first. You were so happy when he found those
files -- so happy because they made him so happy -- you supported him all
the way. After years of being the FBI's wonder-child, brilliant and exalted
and miserable, here was finally something that he was passionate about. Not
the dangerous, all consuming obsession that he brought to his profiling
cases, but a kinder passion. One that didn't keep him up nights, didn't make
him wake up screaming your name or the name of the latest victim.

That was at first.

Then he started staying up nights again, and having nightmares. Only this
time it wasn't your name he was screaming, it was his sister's. Over and
over and over until you shook him hard enough to wake him. Sometimes he
would collapse into your arms and cry himself back to sleep. Other times he
would reach for you and make love to you and get himself back to sleep that
way. Either way when his breathing evened out and his muscles relaxed, you
were left wide awake, feeling your stomach twist into knots.

You started to wish things would go back to the way they were before. Then
you'd see the look of pure childlike wonder in his eyes when he talked about
his new project. Still, you wished you didn't have to watch as he went from
exalted to ridiculed and took you with him. He might not care, but you had
something invested in your career. It didn't matter in the end, he took the
basement office and you followed. Followed him as he tore into those cases
with the single mindedness and passion that first excited you and later
frightened you. Listened to stories about werewolves and vampires and
aliens. Oh, he fell in love with those aliens. And you fell in love with him
all over again.

After his "experience" in Maryland those damned files took on new meaning to
him, they became personal. It goes back to his sister. He told you all about
her. How she disappeared and was never found. A simple story by you know it
goes deeper than that. Her kidnaping was the end of his childhood. His whole
world fell apart. He never fully recovered, but he was coping. Emphasis on
the was. Suddenly he was talking about finding her. He said he found
something, something locked deep inside his mind, that could save her. He
started talking about hypnotic regression sessions and alien abductions and
government conspiracies. You grew more frightened every day -- and not
because you thought he was wrong.

You wanted to. You wanted to dismiss all this nonsense and drag him to a
shrink and make him forget all about the aliens and the X-Files. You wanted
to dismiss this as a figment of his overactive imagination. You can't, not
anymore. Not since you were called for a meeting in an office that reeked of
cigarette smoke and informed of certain...concerns that some in the
administration were beginning to have. The X-Files held some sensitive
information. Most of it was inconsequential, but there were certain things
that shouldn't be investigated. For the good of the country, of course. They
spoke to you in thinly veiled threats. He couldn't be reasoned with, but you
seemed sensible. It was simple, they said. Keep Mulder grounded, they said.
Let him play all he wanted, but also make sure he left certain things alone.
You weren't happy being viewed as his nanny, even less so with being led
around on a leash, but they made it clear that your cooperation was to your
benefit. And his. A man could get hurt, maybe even killed, sticking his nose
where he wasn't supposed to. So you played along and kept the both of you

Slowly, you started to learn things, things that you never wanted to know.
Secrets that altered your perception of the world. You learned things that
made you afraid. You learned things about Fox and where he came from that
you couldn't tell him because he simply wasn't ready to know. All this
knowledge you never wanted has come at a price. The more you learned the
more they drug you into their world and the more they drug you into their
world the more you learned. You know too much to ever be innocent again.
You're in too far to ever get out. You're desperately afraid and have no one
to share your fears with. You're more alone than you've ever been before.
They control you now. They've taken one half of your soul.

Fox, he holds the other half. You gave it to him freely. Once he held all of
it and he hasn't even seen it slipping away. You love him. Love him
desperately and beyond reason and it's eating you inside. You can't tell him
what you know and you wouldn't be able to make him understand even if you
could. Fox lives in a world of blacks and whites and you're learning that
there is nothing but ever-shifting shades of gray. Eventually he'll realize
that you see the world so differently than he does and that you've been
keeping so many things from him. On that day, he will hate you. You cannot
bear to see that happen.

Recently you began to understand the breadth and scope of what's happening.
You're more terrified than ever before and more certain that staying with
Fox will only kill both of you in the end. The most obvious solution
presents itself to you and taunts you with its cruelty. With your
connections, you could disappear. Go somewhere overseas, maybe. Anywhere
away from Fox. The only other choice is to stay and quietly await your
destruction. Two choices. One will destroy you, the other will save you from
everything but a broken heart. You know which is correct, but that doesn't
make it any less painful.

Sighing, you toss back the covers and walk toward the living room. You don't
bother to put on a robe, even though all you're wearing is an old, ratty
T-shirt you bought in Florida. In doesn't matter, he's seen you in just
about everything. The reminder of that intimacy sends a sharp pain through
your chest, but you ignore it. You've gotten very good at ignoring things.

Fox is watching an evangelical show on TV. It's a strange viewing choice for
a vocal agnostic with a grudge against whatever God might exist, but Fox
always wanted to believe that there was good in the universe and he's not
finding much of it in humans these days. He turns to you and smiles. He knew
you would join him eventually, you always do. There's that pain again,
lancing through you with enough intensity to make you want to double over.
Instead you smile back and he scoots over and offers you half the blanket.
You slide in next to him and marvel at how well you fit together. How easy
it is to forget the huge gulf that's slowly growing between you.

He idly fingers the soft cloth of your shirt. "You got this at that gift
shop in West Palm. On our honeymoon." He speaks softly, not disturbing the
calm in the room. In the background the preacher's voice drones but neither
one of you is paying attention.

Your reply is a soft "Hmm," but it seems to satisfy him. He pulls you closer
to him. You rest your head on his chest. He slips his hand under your shirt
and starts rubbing small circles on you back, but realizes that you don't
want to take it farther than that. Not yet.

Later, you'll take him back into the bedroom and make love to him for
possibly the last time. Tomorrow you'll start looking for a way to leave and
you may never see him again once you do. But for now, in this moment, you're
just *here*, with him, and it's enough. It has to be.


Completed June 17, 2002

Love it? Hate it? simply.me3@verizon.net