27 February 2012


It's a difficult thing, feeling like every waking second of your day is spent staring down two ticking time bombs.  

I think Scully knows.  No amount of trying yesterday would get her to take her medicine.  All I wanted to do was make her comfortable, to make sure that her last days were spent in the best possible way.  I think she knows what's going on.

Mulder is clueless.  He's still the same adorable bastard that he's always been, but he has a time stamp glowing over his head like a video game avatar.

But today is the day.  It has to be done.  I feel like my heart is manually ripping itself in half right now.  I can barely stomach coffee, smoking is curbing my body's craving for food even though there's no appetite whatsoever present.  I have a nausea that won't cease, just a longing progressing further and further that this is only a dream.

That it isn't happening.

That we don't have to do this.

But, it's the right thing to do.  It's the humane thing to do.  It's the only choice to make.

I'm going to miss them so fucking much.


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