Life Was Easy When it was Boring

©MMI T h r e a d s

John crouched, on bended knee, tying his shoelace. It was 5:30 am.

Like every morning, he was getting ready to go for a jog, before he went to work at 9. He didn't need three-and-a-half hours to go out for a run, but he also had to shower, eat, sit through rush hour and with still enough time to arrive a little early.

He got back upright and adjusted the leg of his gray track pants as he made his way for the front door.

It was the same routine every morning. Through rain, through snow, he would always go out for a run. For some reason though, it had all changed after he had been assigned to the X-files.

John slammed the door without ever thinking of locking it.

No, his morning routine had never differed in anyway, but it felt different now. He never minded change, but this change he was leery of. He had heard a lot of rumors about that basement office, and a lot of names to add to that. He didn't mind working with Agent Scully at all, she challenged him a lot, and he liked that in an Agent.

Though she could also be stubborn too.

John made his way to the end of his driveway and nodded as the paperboy walked by.

He cracked his neck, and stretched his arms before picking up his legs and running off down the street, south.

It was her partner that he was curious about. Agent Mulder was quite a piece of work. He had sworn he would find him for her, and he had, just as he had promised. He just wished Agent Mulder had been found alive; John hated a manhunt that ended in death… he also wanted to see Agent Scully smile for once. Now Agent Mulder lay six feet under for almost a month. He had tried to be there for Scully, but he wasn't sure what to do. She was a strong woman, not like his ex-wife…

John jumped mid stride off the sidewalk and into the middle of the street. The lamplights began to flicker as dawn slowly broke on the horizon to his side.

If only he had known what that call Kersh had made to him would have meant. When he had picked up the phone receiver that late night, he had not thought much of it. Kersh was doing him a favor, though John was the best, it never hurt to improve his record. He had drove slowly to the office for some reason, he didn't know why. Maybe deep within his mind, spiritus mundi had whispered in his thoughts what finding a member of the X-files would mean.

How it would change his life, his views forever.

He stopped suddenly and turned around as he realized he had passed the side street he always ran down everyday. He was always getting distracted it seemed.

When he had mailed Monica the 'good' news, she said she'd laughed at the thought of him chasing after aliens… she'd heard of the X-files before. She also had told him how envious she was of his new position; at least it would keep him on his toes. For some reason, he had been a little annoyed at her reaction, he wasn't sure why. He also knew that she was being sincere, and hadn't meant it as insult.

He missed working with her; she had to leave the day after the funeral; so they hadn't had much time to catch up. That, and he was afraid to leave Agent Scully alone, even though AD Skinner had promised he would look after her.

John had only visited Mulder's grave once since Agent Mulder had been buried. Even though it was in Raleigh, he'd made the drive one weekend. He wasn't too sure what had motivated him to do so, still, it was the least he could do. When he arrived, and made his way to the Mulder plot, he could see a form crouched over in the distance. Scully. He had watched her silently for a moment before turning around, back to his car, and driving home.

John quickened his pace as he found his way back onto the sidewalk. His breath rose thick in the cool March morning.

Agent Scully was another thing he had never anticipated.

John's stride lengthened.

She was something he thought he would never see again. Something he thought he'd lost. There was her pregnancy too. He suspected Mulder was the father, but she had never offered to tell, and he had never asked. Part of him was afraid of what the answer would be.

It was always the same thing in the office everyday. The same awkward formality, the same restrained friendliness. John hated it. It was neccessary though, for him at least.

Every day was with Agent Scully, down in the basement, all alone ... he couldn't help but notice.

John jerked forward suddenly as his foot got caught in a break in the sidewalk and he fell to the cold concrete slabs. He hit it with full momentum, rolled once and fell down into a deep gutter of grass, next to the path.

He blinked a moment; then swore.

He sat up quickly from the frigid ground and breathed in deeply. John winced as a numbing pain shot through his left knee. He pulled up the partial-torn pant leg to reveal a large, forming bruise, and a long patch of road rash down the outside. He swore again before getting to his feet. He stepped back up onto the sidewalk and began to pace slowly to make sure his knee was still functional.

If it were on his arms, or face, someone would notice at the office, Agent Scully would probably ask what had happened. But it was on his knee, where nobody would see, or find out.

John glanced at his watch. It was 5:51 … he should head back soon if he wanted to keep to schedule. He also wanted to take a long shower. Part of him longed to call in sick; sometimes he just couldn't take the long elevator down to the basement, to the FBI's most un-wanted. But he would feel bad if he abandoned Scully like that, even for a day, and even though she had done that to him numerous times before, and without explanation. He was stuck with the X-files now.

John stopped his pacing and bent over to catch his breath.

Maybe that was why he his morning run always felt so different. That he wanted to run away from all of that, back to his old position where he investigated murders done by humans.

Or maybe it was because no matter how far he ran he would always end up back in the same place. He could never run away.

He brought the end of his faded navy shirt up to his face and wiped the sweat from it. He ran a hand over the back of his neck as he turned to go back, but stopped.

John felt bad about the X-files… maybe that was it. Mulder's legacy was his now, and deep down, every day; he knew he was letting Mulder down. In that dark office there were cabinets and cabinets of case files about alien abduction, ancient legends and curses, religious testimonial … all of it unexplained phenomenon. He had even been shot and killed, but awoke alive. How could that be explained?

Yet still, John doubted. He needed the facts; he couldn't look to the skies for comfort. To him, it seemed an escape for Mulder, a way not to deal with the real truth about things. That humanity was a beast ready to swallow, a beast ready to follow. A cruel, abusive monster. Maybe Mulder just couldn't accept that.

John's blue eyes scanned the street before him. Cars lined the driveways in perfect row; the sun crept down the street and illuminated the clouds; a few houses began to stir with life. His brow creased as he examined the scene before him.

The world seemed so still, so silent.

He blinked twice before heading back home. The X-files couldn't wait anymore.

FIN

.back.