Archive: Sure, just ask me.
Category: K/Ma, Angst, character death
Summary: Marita mourns for Alex in her own way. Author's note: I wrote this story in German and translated it after I wrote my first two stories in English. Sometimes the english expressions fit better, sometimes not. Hope you like it anyways. And thanks to the Harem of X-Files other women defenders, especially Karo my fellow German, Deslea for founding the Harem and MaidenJedi for the incredible fast and good beta.
They had left.
Both of them had just left.
And so did he.
Her head understood what had just happened, but her heart couldn't. He had only come here to explain, and somehow had run into the arms of two men.
He didn't come to kill Mulder.
She came to kill Mulder. And he had known it and wanted to prevent it by convincing Mulder of their goals.
Their goals. Their goals didn't exist any more now.
Her task was to get into the Hoover Building, to search for Mulder and to kill him. Something she would have done for the first time.
As Mulder spoke with him and just didn't want to understand that they had the same intentions, she wanted to do nothing but pull the trigger. But then the first shot could be heard. A shot rang out, but it didn't come from her gun, and it wasn't Mulder who fell to the ground.
He spoke before the next shot could finish him off, asking for what she wanted. He asked his murderer to kill Mulder so that she wouldn't have to do it; he knew that she would get the order to do so the second he died.
She already had this order.
Slowly she raised from the place in the garage where she had been waiting for Mulder's car and walked towards the corpse. The bullet had hit him directly between his eyes, there was no chance that he had survived. At least that was what her common sense told her. Her heart had to make sure he was dead.
It was only then that she noticed she wasn't crying. She wondered why she didn't cry for her husband, the father of her child. He was dead, and she thought that was a reason for crying.
But there was nothing, nothing at all.
She was afraid to touch him. He lied there peacefully and if it hadn't been for the wound between his eyes, he would've looked as if he slept. She remembered the countless times she had watched him sleep. She thought that in his sleep he always looked peacefully, like a child. But he always notices when someone watches him.
No, he noticed, if someone watched him she corrected herself. Past tense.
She didn't feel any pulse at his neck.
And now the tears appeared.
Not just a few but an unending stream of them.
Several minutes she just sat there, kneeling close by his corpse and crying. Crying for all the hours she had spent with him. Crying for their plan to stop the colonisation from beginning. Crying for her child.
And with that thought another one arose.
The wish to follow him.
Mulder had put it the right way. In a world where black turned to white and good to evil there was no God.
And she would take herself out of such a world.
The weapon felt cold in her hand. She wondered if it would've been harder for her to kill someone else and not herself and her child.
She didn't know. She hadn't killed until now.
It seemed impossible that a piece of metal that tiny could cause so much damage.
But this thought quickly vanished as she pressed the weapon against her temple.
There it felt even colder than in her hand.
Her other hand clutched his. She decided to name the bullet. She had once heard that would help to pull the trigger. She didn't believe it, but did it anyway. Mulder would kill her. Had done it a little bit every day before. It seemed paradox to her that Skinner and not Mulder had shot him. No thought stayed inside her head for long whilst she pulled the trigger slowly and closed her eyes. But her last thought was one of her husband.
A shot echoed through the car park for the third time this day and Marita Covarrubias' body fell over Alex Krycek's.
They were reunited forever.
Reunited in hell.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Eilan
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