Drabble: The X-Files: Regrets: "The Night It Happened.
Title: The Night It Happened.
Word Count: 199.
Character/Pairing: Scully.
Disclaimer: Don't own X-Files nor the characters.
Rating: PG.
Author's Note: Sometimes I wonder why Scully never moved after all the shit that happened there.
When she finally returned home, the blood stain wasn’t there. She didn’t know who removed it, or how, but she was never going to ask around and find out. It wasn’t important, but she was grateful for the consideration.
The police report held all the details she could ever want to know. They were called after the report of a gunshot fired. Her sister was found in front of the door, bleeding from a head wound.
Scully left the light off as she locked the front door. She scanned her apartment and wondered where it was the gunman had hid himself from sight.
Her tears began to fall without her even realizing it. She lowered herself to the floor slowly. Sobs began from deep inside her and she put her cheek to the cool surface of her hardwood floor, the place where her sister’s blood had formed a puddle.
Scully cried herself to sleep there and woke the following morning with bloodshot eyes and the taste of salt on her lips. She gathered herself up, showered, and tried to move on.
But she wouldn’t ever fully recover. She wasn’t there for her sister.
And now, she never could be.
Word Count: 199.
Character/Pairing: Scully.
Disclaimer: Don't own X-Files nor the characters.
Rating: PG.
Author's Note: Sometimes I wonder why Scully never moved after all the shit that happened there.
When she finally returned home, the blood stain wasn’t there. She didn’t know who removed it, or how, but she was never going to ask around and find out. It wasn’t important, but she was grateful for the consideration.
The police report held all the details she could ever want to know. They were called after the report of a gunshot fired. Her sister was found in front of the door, bleeding from a head wound.
Scully left the light off as she locked the front door. She scanned her apartment and wondered where it was the gunman had hid himself from sight.
Her tears began to fall without her even realizing it. She lowered herself to the floor slowly. Sobs began from deep inside her and she put her cheek to the cool surface of her hardwood floor, the place where her sister’s blood had formed a puddle.
Scully cried herself to sleep there and woke the following morning with bloodshot eyes and the taste of salt on her lips. She gathered herself up, showered, and tried to move on.
But she wouldn’t ever fully recover. She wasn’t there for her sister.
And now, she never could be.