*********************************************************************** Jennifer Maurer's e-mail address has changed to: jenbirdscully@yahoo.com *********************************************************************** From jenbird@earthlink.net Sun Mar 09 17:34:06 1997 Subject: "The Burden of Wondering" by Jennifer Maurer From: Jennifer Maurer <*new* email address: jenbird@earthlink.net> Date: Sun, 09 Mar 1997 18:34:06 -0500 -------- Natasha & Adam: This is a stand-alone story, not part of any series, ok to post to Gossamer. Thanks! --Jennifer -------- This is not part of my "Us" series, so don't panic when you see the warning below. I just needed a break, and this story was one of those inspirations that came out of nowhere. It just poured out of me, and has a lot more dialogue than I usually write, so be gentle. DISCLAIMERS: Aw, gee, Mr. Lawyer Man, do I have to? Okay, okay... Mulder and Scully don't belong to me, they belong to CC, FOX, and 1013 (The Holy Trinity, as a certain enigmatic friend says). SPOILERS: References to the abduction trilogy. References to Momento Mori. RATING: PG-13 WARNING: !!!!CHARACTER DIES!!!! I never thought I could write a story like this, cause I'm usually the first to bail when I see that at the beginning of a story, but this one seemed to work. CLASSIFICATION: Mulder story/flashback. Some implied romance. Angst. SUMMARY: As the executor of Scully's estate, Mulder makes a surprising discovery that heals an old wound. Set in the future, has nothing to do with "Momento Mori." BACKGROUND WHICH MAY SEEM UNIMPORTANT BUT YOU SHOULD READ ANYWAY: I work in a bank, and was recently asked to assist with the drilling of a safe deposit box for nonpayment of fees. Usually when boxes are abandoned it means the owner has died and their estate was unaware of the box, in which case the contents are considered escheated and held for 7 years. I was fascinated by the bits and pieces of someone's life, left behind in this tiny box, and of course my busy brain made an X-Files connection. COMMENTS: Welcomed with open arms at <*new* email address: jenbird@earthlink.net> For my grandmother, Marjorie Call (1906-1994). Thanks to Chris for the trauma advice. THE BURDEN OF WONDERING By: Jennifer Maurer September 28, 2000 Carter Savings & Loan, Inheritance & Tax Division Washington DC 8:58 am Fox Mulder sighed and checked his watch again. Two minutes until nine, when the office opened. He would be early for his appointment but he'd been too antsy to stay home. He rocked back on his heels and shoved his hands in his pockets. he thought Not that he could ever forget Dana Scully. In the two years since her death, Mulder had done little else but think of her. Not that he had much choice, as Scully had named him executor of her estate. A small task, but one that had kept him focused in the terrible months following her death. Scully's mother had helped him, of course, but the bulk of the work Mulder had accepted willingly, a labor of love. As time had gone on, instead of Scully fading from his memory, she had remained constant, a loving presence in his heart. Only the pain receded somewhat, something Mulder hadn't thought would be possible at first. He fingered the small gold cross beneath his shirt. It had been hers, he was as familiar with it as the blue of her eyes, the red of her hair. He had wept the night Margaret Scully placed it gently in his hand, not to give back to Dana but to keep this time. He hadn't taken it off since he'd clasped it around his neck, the morning of Scully's funeral. His thoughts were interrupted by the guard who came to unlock the door. The young man held the door wide for him, the only person waiting in the hall. "How are you this morning, sir," the guard said politely. "Fine, thanks. How do I get to the department of Escheated Accounts?" "Take the elevator to the third floor and make a left." "Thanks." Mulder followed the directions and soon found himself in a bland lobby. He approached the young woman sitting behind the desk. "I'm Fox Mulder, I spoke to a Maureen Simmons about recovering some property from an abandoned safe deposit box." "I'll let Mrs. Simmons know you're here, sir, why don't you have a seat?" Mulder dropped into the boxy chair and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He reached into his pocket to make sure he had the necessary documents with him. The woman he had spoken to the on the phone said she needed Scully's death certificate and the short certificate, confirming that he was indeed her executor. Mulder pulled both papers from his trench coat pocket, opening them slowly. The short certificate he'd glanced at once, when he'd had it notarized, it stated only the DANA KATHERINE SCULLY had appointed FOX WILLIAM MULDER as sole executor of her estate. The death certificate he had read a million times, every word was ingrained in his brain. He hadn't used all the copies he'd ordered from the funeral director, some had remained. Kept carefully in his personal files, a manila folder labeled only "DKS" where he stored the necessary paperwork. He read it over so often that at one point he'd cynically considered framing it and hanging it on his wall, for everyone to see. A kind of scarlet letter, his evidence that he had let Scully down in a final way. Mulder thought sadly. Her Bureau file, her tax returns, her few personal letters, stored carefully in a shoebox in her closet. None of those papers had made up the whole Dana Scully, only fragments of her. Now those pieces were all he had left to look at and touch, to prove to himself that she really *had* been there, he really had been lucky enough to have her in his life. he wondered, not for the first time. He'd be flipping through his files, looking for something else entirely, and that bile green would jump out at him, as if to say: by the way, Scully's dead! Haven't forgotten, have you? Didn't let your thoughts drift elsewhere, did you? Well, here's a little reminder! Mulder slid his eyes over the page, reading again what he already knew by heart. THIS IS TO CERTIFY THAT THE INFORMATION GIVEN IS CORRECTLY COPIED FROM AN ORIGINAL CERTIFICATE OF DEATH DULY FILED WITH ME AS LOCAL REGISTRAR. THIS ORIGINAL CERTIFICATE WILL BE FORWARDED TO THE STATE VITAL RECORDS OFFICE FOR PERMANENT FILING. NAME OF DECEDENT: Dana Katherine Scully SEX: Female DATE OF DEATH: April 22, 1998 AGE: 34 DATE OF BIRTH: February 23, 1964 DECEDENT'S USUAL OCCUPATION: Special Agent, Federal Bureau of Investigation KIND OF BUSINESS: U.S. Department of Justice MARITAL STATUS: Never married PLACE OF DEATH: DOA, Cincinnati General Hospital MANNER OF DEATH: Homicide TIME OF DEATH: approx. 10:20pm Mulder squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears that suddenly blurred his vision. No matter how many times he read it, no matter how much time passed, it still hurt. His eyes would be skimming the page, but his mind always wandered back to the car, waiting impatiently for Scully to hurry up so they wouldn't miss their flight... April 22, 1998 Joe's Gas, Route 30 Cincinnati, Ohio 10:02pm "Mulder, I need to stop." "Why?" Scully shot him one of her inscrutable glances before answering daintily, "I have to powder my nose." Mulder cackled at such delicate language coming from a seasoned FBI agent. "Come on, Scully, I think we've reached the point in our relationship where we can be honest and open with each other. You can come right out and say it: you have to take a leak." She rolled her eyes and said nothing, making him laugh even harder. "Okay, okay...here's a gas station coming up, will that do?" Scully wrinkled her nose in anticipation of a vile gas station bathroom, but agreed. Mulder slowed and pulled into the gas station, stopping next to the building. Scully got out of the car and started for the office. "Hey," Mulder called out to her, reaching for his wallet, "if they sell Slim Jims in there will you get me one?" Scully turned back to the car and leaned down to peer into Mulder's open window. "You know what those things are made of?" "Um...no. And please don't enlighten me. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss." A red eyebrow arched. "This from the man whose life is dedicated to finding the truth?" Mulder gave her a crooked grin. "I have to draw the line somewhere." Scully snorted. "Mulder, you've never drawn a line in your life." "Maybe not, but isn't that just another endearing facet of my personality?" he teased, giving her his toothiest grin. Scully smiled and answered, "I'm not going to even *try* and answer that one, Mulder. Slim Jims coming up. No, keep your money. You'll need it for bypass surgery." Mulder laughed as she walked away, picturing the smirk on her face. She went into the office and emerged a few minutes later with a key and headed around the corner of the building. Mulder sighed and let his head fall back against the seat. They had been booked on an earlier flight but tying up the loose ends of their latest case had taken longer than they'd anticipated. They'd managed to get seats on the last flight leaving that night, an 11pm out of Cincinnati. Mulder glanced at his watch. Seven after ten, they had less than an hour to get to the airport. He was starting to feel drowsy and wanted to be settled on the plane before he actually fell asleep. he thought. Mulder heard but didn't see the car pull into the lot and stop directly in front of the office door. In his light doze, he never saw Scully round the corner and walk into the office to return the key and get his snack. He didn't know anything until a popping sound awakened him, a sound he was instantly familiar with: gunshots. September 28, 2000 Office of Escheated Accounts Washington DC 9:32 am "Mr. Mulder?" Mulder jerked to attention, startled out of his reverie by a pleasant female voice. A woman in a dark suit stood before him. "Uh, yeah, hello." "I'm Maureen Simmons," she said, extending her hand. "It's nice to finally meet you. We spoke on the phone." "Oh yes," Mulder recalled, shaking her hand. "Why don't we go into my office and we can get the paperwork out of the way first. Just follow me." Mulder followed Maureen down the hall, looking around curiously. "I never knew they had a separate office for this kind of thing." "Yes, as the central office, we're responsible for all the escheated accounts for all of our Washington DC and Virginia branches. Everything from abandoned safe deposit boxes comes here to be stored until it's claimed or absorbed by the bank." Mulder winced at the word "abandoned" thinking how perfectly it summed up his relationship with Scully. He'd spent the better part of their partnership abandoning her. He shook his head to clear those thoughts and concentrated on their conversation as they entered her office. He took the seat she indicated. "Do you get a lot of stuff? I mean, if something's important enough to put in a safe deposit box, I can't imagine forgetting about it." "You'd be surprised, Mr. Mulder," Maureen answered, "Most of the time what has happened is the renter has died and the estate is unaware of the box. If they learn about it later, they come to us, which I assume is the case with you." She checked the file folder in front of her. "It says here we tried to contact Ms. Scully several times concerning the nonpayment of the rental fees, and received no response. Her other accounts were closed by the estate, except for the safe deposit box." "Yeah, things were kind of...hectic after she died," Mulder said in a low voice, feeling the need to explain himself. "I understand. Running around looking for everything is the last thing you want to concentrate on. Unless the box needs to be searched to find the will, it's often forgotten." "We found the will in her desk." "I see. Well, let's get started. Do you have Ms. Scully's death certificate and your short certificate?" He was slightly startled to find he'd been clutching them in his hand since he'd left the lobby. He pushed them across the desk to her. She looked them over, then nodded. "Fine. Let me just go make copies. You know how bureaucracies are, they want 3 copies of everything." Mulder smiled at her remark as she left the office. Yes, he remembered red tape. When he and Scully had the X-Files they'd constantly been entangled in it. He sighed, the only sound in the quiet office, and let his mind wander again... April 22, 1998 Joe's Gas, Route 30 Cincinnati, Ohio 10:10pm Mulder jerked awake at the sound of gunshots, automatically reaching for his own gun even before he was fully awake. He looked around wildly, trying to find the source of the noise. No one was in the lot, but light spilled from the office door. Praying she was still safely hidden in the ladies room, Mulder silently crept up to the door, gun in his hand. He heard an angry voice, demanding money. The bang of the cash register drawer opening, the frightened clerk stuttering. "Shut up, damn it, and gimme the money!" The guy sounded strung out. Mulder dared a peek around the doorjamb. In the shoplifters mirror he could see the whole thing happening. Someone already lying on the floor, the robber's first victim. A woman. Mulder's heart contracted painfully until he could ascertain that it wasn't Scully. A spot of red caught his eye---Scully's hair, her warped reflection just on the edge of the mirror. Mulder silently begged her. The red spot moved slowly. She wanted to try and help the woman who had been shot, Mulder knew. He cocked the safety on his gun, ready to jump in there shooting if necessary. "What're you looking at, bitch?" "Look, you can just walk out of here, no one else needs to get hurt..." Scully said calmly, although Mulder could detect the slightest tremble in her voice. "Shut the fuck up!" And then the gunshot. September 28, 2000 Office of Escheated Accounts Washington DC 9:51 am "Okay, Mr. Mulder, looks like we're all set," Maureen said as she walked back into the office. Mulder started in his seat, his thoughts interrupted. "I'm sorry, did I startle you?" Mulder forced a smile. "No, just wool- gathering." "I imagine you writers do a lot of that. I've read one of your books. I understand you used to be with the FBI?" "Yes. Dana Scully was my partner. I left the Bureau after..." he waved his hand in a gesture meant to finish his sentence without words. Maureen nodded. "Oh, that's a shame. Such a young woman. Well, Mr. Mulder, we're almost through here, then you can pick up the box and be on your way." "What else do you need?" "Just your signature at the bottom of these forms, and a check for the amount of the drilling and rental fees." Maureen sighed, "It's a shame, to ask people for money at a time like this, but I'm afraid it's the rules." "I understand." Mulder quickly scrawled his name at each "X", not bothering to read the documents. He reached into his trench coat pocket and slowly pulled out the checkbook he hadn't touched in almost a year. ESTATE OF DANA K. SCULLY. FOX W. MULDER, EXECUTOR. Scully's lawyer had told him opening such an account was the easiest way to go, since he hadn't been a joint holder on any of Scully's regular bank accounts. Mulder had used it to pay for the funeral, her remaining bills, for the cemetery marker. He'd never closed it, even after all the official business was done. He liked seeing their names together on the checks. If he covered ESTATE OF and EXECUTOR, he could almost pretend...he clenched the pen tighter to stop his hand from shaking. His signature was sloppier than usual and he ripped the check from the book quickly, shoving it across the desk as though it burned his hands. "Okay, we're all set. If you'll just follow me, Mr. Mulder, we'll go pick up Ms. Scully's things and you can be on your way." Mulder followed Maureen out of her office and down the hall to a huge steel door at the end. He glanced around once inside, shivering at the sight of rows of gleaming steel drawers. he thought idly, remembering the look he and Scully had exchanged in New Mexico, looking down a similar hallway of file cabinets. That time they had found Scully's file, with her immunization records. What would he find in here? His stomach twisted at the thought. Mulder wasn't so sure all of a sudden. The jangling of Maureen's keys as she struggled to find the right one grated on his nerves. He was just starting to wish he still had his gun so he could blow the lock off when she finally wrestled it open. She pulled out a cardboard box with seals stuck on each side. "Here we are. Dana K. Scully. Box drilled December 20, 1998." "Mr. Mulder?" "Oh, thanks," Mulder said, taking the box from her. "The box was inventoried by two bank employees, their initials are on the seals," Maureen pointed out. "Everything is just as she left it. We have private rooms, if you'd like to look through the contents in there, you wouldn't be disturbed..." "No, thank you, I'd rather take everything home." "All right, then. Let me show you out." Mulder followed her back through the winding hallways until they'd reached the elevators. He tucked the box under one arm to shake Maureen's hand. "Thank you for your help. It means a lot to me, knowing that Dana's things were safe until I found them." "You're very welcome, Mr. Mulder," Maureen answered, smiling at him, "I'm always glad when we can give some of these lost things back to their rightful owners." The elevator dinged, and with a final nod of his head, Mulder stepped inside. The doors whooshed shut and he was alone...with this box. He clutched it to his chest as if it had been Scully herself. He and Mrs. Scully had cleaned out her apartment lingeringly, pausing over each of Scully's belongings. Mulder had been torn apart by it, but this was different, somehow. The things they'd taken out of the apartment, Scully's clothes and other personal belongings, had been things he'd seen every day. His favorite outfit of hers, a sky blue pants suit, hung in his closet now. Her cross hung around his neck. He had made a pile of all the pictures with Scully in them and split them with her mother. He had his favorite framed on his dresser, a candid shot of the two of them, taken at her mother's house on her last birthday. He was leaning over her shoulder with a maniacal grin on his face, watching while she tore the paper from his gift, her mouth open in a laugh. Mulder thought as he exited the elevator, Mulder gave the box a gentle shake before laying it carefully on the seat beside him. What kind of things had Scully felt the need to keep hidden away? And if he'd known her so well, why hadn't he found them? On the drive home, Mulder thought about Scully's mother. She'd been his rock in the terrible months right after Scully's death. Mulder had been worse off than ever, because this time he knew she wasn't coming back. She had died right in his arms. April 22, 1998 Joe's Gas, Route 30 Cincinnati, Ohio 10:14pm "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Mulder burst through the door before he'd finished screaming. The crack of the gunshot mobilized him, made him forget about sneaking in or controlling the situation. He was just in time to see Scully fall. The robber turned to him, frightened by his scream, but Mulder was much faster. With perfect aim that later brought to mind his target practice in the Pusher case, Mulder emptied his entire magazine into the man's chest. He was dead before he hit the ground. Mulder stood over him, breathing hard, and stared at him. He had to make sure he was dead. He stood, transfixed by the sight, until he felt a tug on the cuff of his pants. Mulder turned his head; Scully was lying on the floor near him, reaching out to get his attention. "Mulder..." she whispered. "Call an ambulance. NOW!" he screamed at the horrified clerk. Mulder holstered his gun and knelt down beside Scully, trying to get an idea of how badly she was hurt. He ripped her navy jacket open and froze at the sight of her blouse. The white silk was completely colored red with her blood. "Oh God, Scully..." he murmured. He tossed off his trench coat, then his suit jacket. He needed something to stop the blood, she was bleeding all over the place. "Mulder, help me," she implored, looking up at him. September 28, 2000 outside of Alexandria, VA Mulder's car 11:02 am Mulder squeezed the steering wheel in a white- knuckled grip, forcing his thoughts back to the present. he told himself Margaret Scully had told Mulder much the same thing, over and over, as she watched over him after Scully's death. Mulder had completely fallen apart. He left the Bureau, despite Skinner's insistence that he stay. Everyone told him Scully would have wanted him to stay, but his heart just wasn't in it without her. He had even abandoned his search for Samantha for awhile, struggling to accept the fact that Scully had been ripped away from him. He'd always thought he would be the first to go, murdered by some shadow consortium or just vanishing like Samantha. Scully would look for him, he knew, but then she would go on. She was the strongest person he knew. It was funny, Mrs. Scully had pointed out, Dana had said the very same thing about him. Mulder had found a way to go on, and even continue his work in the paranormal. But it was now as a writer and researcher, not an FBI agent. The X-Files had closed the minute Scully's heart stopped beating, he told Skinner. She was all the heart he'd had. Mulder carried the box up to his apartment, and carefully set it down on the coffee table. He tossed his jacket aside and sat down. For a long time he did nothing but sit and stare at the box. Mulder reached over to the side table for the phone and dialed the number he'd learned by heart. "Hello?" "Mrs. Scully, it's Fox Mulder." She laughed softly. "Fox, when are you going to start calling me Margaret?" He smiled. "I don't know. Maybe never. It's this thing I have, never calling the Scully women by their first names." "How are you, it's been awhile since we talked." "I'm fine. Look, Mrs. Scully, there's a reason I called. It's, um, about Dana's estate." He heard Margaret's sharp intake of breath. Although they often spoke of Dana, it was always of happier times. Margaret had helped him settle Scully's estate but he'd sensed she'd been glad to leave most of it to him. She never spoke of Dana's death, only her life. "What about it, Fox? I thought everything had been settled long ago." "So did I, until recently. I found out that Dana had a safe deposit box we never knew about. When they couldn't get in touch with her at home, they tried to track her down at work and Skinner got in touch with me. The box was opened because it hadn't been paid for, but all of Dana's things were safe. I picked them up today at one of the bank's offices. I was wondering if you'd like to go through the box with me. I have it here but I haven't opened it yet." "Thank you, Fox, but no." Mulder's eyebrows shot up in surprise at Margaret's answer. "No? Are you sure, Mrs. Scully? There might be important things in here..." "I'm sure there are, Fox, which is why I'm leaving it to you. Dana had complete trust in you to handle everything. I do, too. I have the things of Dana's that I want. I've lost two daughters now, I have more of their possessions than I ever wanted." Margaret started to cry softly. "You keep everything, Fox. I know Dana wanted you to have whatever is in there. She knew you'd find it eventually." Mulder said goodbye and set the phone back in the cradle. He sat watching the box for awhile longer. he thought to himself, wanting to stretch the moment as long as possible. Once he'd opened this box and seen everything, wouldn't he have to say a final goodbye? There would never be anything left to learn about her after this. He'd have to let go. Mulder reached out a hand to the box and stopped, surprised to see it tremble. He drew back and buried his face in his hands, unable to stop the tears that had been stinging his eyes all the way home. April 22, 1998 Joe's Gas, Route 30 Cincinnati, Ohio 10:17pm "It's okay, Scully, you'll be fine." He told her, trying to reassure himself as well. "Oh, shit, Mulder, it hurts," she groaned. "I know. It's gonna hurt a little more because I have to put some pressure on it to stop the bleeding, okay? Just stay with me." "It's no use," she sighed, closing her eyes. Mulder was shocked at how pale she'd become. He yanked off his dress shirt and wadded it up into a ball. "Don't say that, Scully, you're going to make it through this. I'm going to press down now, okay?" Scully only nodded, looking up at him with wide blue eyes. Mulder's hand with the shirt hovered above her chest for an instant. Then he pressed down. The white fabric bloomed red. Scully let out one raw cry of pain with a ragged breath. "I'm sorry, I know it hurts, but you're bleeding too much." Mulder glanced over his shoulder, out the open door. "Mulder, will you hold me?" He gaped at her, unable to answer for a moment. "I do *too* know what I'm saying, don't give me that look. I don't want to die lying on this dirty floor, can you please just hold me?" "Scully, you're not---" "Mulder, just shut up and do it, okay?" "Okay." He shifted so he was sitting down next to her and gently slid one arm beneath her back. His free hand held hers. "Lift me off the floor, let me lean against you," she wheezed, "It'll be easier for me to breathe that way." Slowly, wincing in the anticipated pain he would cause her, he lifted her up and slid her body back slightly so she rested against his chest. Her breath hitched once, then she relaxed into his body. Mulder leaned back and wrapped both arms around her, still pressing the ruin of his shirt against her wound. Her hands sought his and clutched them. "Thanks. Much better." "How did you know I thought you were in shock?" Mulder asked her. Scully shifted around so she was leaning more into his arm and less against his chest, enabling her to tilt her head back and look into his eyes. "I just did. Mulder there's something I want to tell you---" "Shhh. Just stay quiet. The ambulance will be here soon." Scully's eyes were starting to close, she was losing consciousness. Her breathing grew more labored, and Mulder's shirt and hands were soaked with her blood. "Goddamn it, let me finish. I want to say...Fox..." Her voice trailed off and she looked into his eyes silently. Mulder could see the light in them fading. He heard sirens and the walls started to flash red and blue. He looked up, waiting desperately for the paramedics to come running in. A gentle touch on his cheek turned his gaze back to Scully. She had reached up to touch him, her palm rested against his face, her thumb stroking his cheekbone. She gave him a look of such love that Mulder's heart almost stopped. They had shared many moments of silent communication over the years, but none spoke as clearly as this. Everything she wanted to say was in her eyes, and she smiled at him even as tears slipped down her cheeks. His own eyes filled, making her image blur, and he hastily blinked. Two drops fell on her face and he tenderly wiped them away. Scully searched his eyes, and finding his answer there, let her own slip closed. "Mulder..." she whispered, as her hand dropped from his face. Mulder took it in his own and lifted it back, kissing her palm gently before holding it against his face. "I know, Scully. I know." Scully smiled and peeked up at him under her eyelashes. "Good. Don't forget." "Never," he promised her. And with a sigh, she was gone. September 28, 2000 Mulder's apartment Alexandria, VA 3:35 p.m. "Scully!" Mulder screamed, bolting upright on the couch. He panted, covered in a cold sweat, looking around wildly. He was home. Nightmare. He swung his legs around and stretched his back. He didn't even remember lying back, much less falling asleep. He had slept even less than usual the night before. Mulder sighed and turned his attention back to the box in front of him on the table, still unopened. Mulder sighed and raked his fingers through his hair wearily. He hadn't had a nightmare that vivid in a long time. He gazed down at his hands, half-expecting to find them covered in her blood. He clenched them into fists to stop the shaking. The paramedics had come in to find him doing CPR on Scully, begging her to hold on in between blowing air into her lungs. They'd had to pry him off her before they could get to work, putting an oxygen mask on her and IV's into both arms. Mulder slid away, still on the floor, unable to hold back his sobs. He knew she was gone, even if he didn't want to accept it. He'd seen her eyes slide closed, watched her chest fall as she let out her last breath. After everything they had been through together, it had ended here, on the floor of a gas station. No words. Only one last look into each other's eyes that said everything for them. he told himself. Mulder reached out and tore the seals from the box, lifted the lid. A manila envelope rested on top. He took it from the box and bent the metal clasp back, letting the papers inside slide onto his lap. Scully's birth certificate. Mulder smiled, imagining her as a baby. Red curls and big blue eyes. Margaret had shown him pictures once, much to Scully's dismay. He'd shown great interest in the naked bath pictures and Scully had snatched them away from him, but not before he'd gotten a good look at her sweet baby smile. The same smile he sometimes caught on her face. Baptismal certificate. He thought of the cross she'd always worn around her neck. He had worn it since her death, hoping that in some small way he could capture her faith, perhaps make it his own. He had asked Mrs. Scully once why, if Dana was such a skeptic, she wore that cross. "I gave it to her for her 15th birthday," Margaret had replied. He understood immediately. It was something precious to Scully because of the love with which it had been given. It was a sign of faith, yes, but first and foremost a sign of love. Margaret had passed it on to him as such, and that was why he wore it himself. Scully's college diploma and her medical degree. "You pick the brains, and she picks the bones," someone had once said to him. He'd laughed agreement at the time but also thought that such a simple statement didn't even come close to describing his relationship with Scully. It went so much deeper than that. They'd been paired because they were such opposites, it was thought she'd be able to counteract his wild impulses. It didn't work. Over the years of their partnership, they had come to trust each other and form a bond that no one could break. They were the perfect complement to each other, making a balance of skepticism and believing. Mulder thought sadly Scully had respected him, he knew that without a doubt. After her death he had thought often of the look she'd given him before she died. "I know, Scully," he had answered her, but did he? Could he have been right about that? He'd told her he'd understood, keeping his doubts to himself so as not to upset her. Yet the doubts remained: did she really love him? Had she been *in* love with him? For his part, Mulder knew he had loved her. He loved her still, death couldn't change that. He had been aware of it on some level since her return from her abduction, when he'd had to watch her lying there in a coma, knowing that next time he might return to visit and find her gone. After she'd woken up, however, there was always a reason to put off telling her. She wasn't strong enough, they were too busy, they were arguing. Then came those horrible months when they'd learned about her brain tumor. Mulder had come closer than ever then to telling her. He would never forget those few moments in the hallway, when he'd held her after Penny Northern died. She wrapped her arms around his waist, clinging to him, while he buried his nose in her hair. Then he'd taken her face in his hands and gently kissed her forehead. She looked up into his eyes...then blinked and eased away from him. So again the words had gone unsaid. The night of Scully's funeral Margaret had come over to his apartment to find him drunk and sobbing, with his gun in his hand. He'd had every intention of putting that gun in his mouth and blowing his head off. Blowing the pain away. He'd had every opportunity to tell Scully that he loved her, and he'd let them all go by. Now there would be no more chances. Not ever. Margaret had sat down beside him gingerly, as if afraid he would explode, and slid the gun out of his hand when he tipped over to lean against her. She cradled him like a baby, while he poured out all his anguish. Finally the worst of the sobbing passed, and Mulder raised his head to look into Margaret's red-rimmed eyes. "I never told her. I never told Dana that I loved her." Margaret shushed him, stroked his hair. "She already knew." "I wish I could be sure." She smiled gently. "You can be, Fox. Dana knew." He didn't ask how Mrs. Scully had known. It was enough that she did. It had carried him through. That, and knowing Scully would want him to go on. Mulder shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and slid Scully's papers back into the manila envelope. "The *enigmatic* Dr. Scully" he said aloud to the empty room, remembering when Max Fenig had called her that. He said her name again, liking the sound of his voice saying it. "Scully. Dana Scully. Scully, Scully." Her name had become his mantra for awhile, he would rock back and forth singing it under his breath until he fell asleep sometimes. It soothed him better than the TV ever had. "Dana Mulder," he sighed, then pushed those thoughts aside. Next was a small velvet bag, black. Something jingled inside. Mulder loosened the draw string and a gold charm bracelet fell into his cupped hand. Real gold, from the look of it. Something he'd never seen her wear, a piece of jewelry she kept safe because it was special. Mulder turned it in his hands, examining each little charm. A miniature record player, that really spun. He grinned, imagining a teen age Scully learning to dance. A Girl Scout medallion. A pair of hands clasped in prayer. A smiley face. A tiny crystal, from Melissa, no doubt. A stethoscope. Even a minute badge. A charm for every important event in her life. Mulder suddenly felt sad, wishing he'd known about this bracelet. He wished he could have given her a small gold memento of their time together, a piece of this special thing. There was one thing left in the box, a flat package wrapped in several layers of bubble wrap. Mulder lifted it from the box and read the note taped to the front. "Mom, if you get this, it means something has happened to Mulder as well. Please just destroy this tape, because it's only for him to see. I love you, Dana." Mulder ripped the wrap off, struggling with the heavy tape. A plain video tape in a plain box, the kind you could buy at any store. Labeled in Scully's neat handwriting, "Mulder." He slid the tape out of the box. Nothing else on it to indicate the contents. Mulder rose from the couch and walked over to the VCR. Slowly, he switched it on, then the TV. He was startled to find his heart pounding. This was Scully's final word to him, he knew. Whatever was on this tape, whatever she wanted to show him, was so important that she'd gone to the trouble of making the tape, and locking it up. It was also something so close to the bone that she'd never mustered up the nerve to say it to him personally. He preferred to think of it that way, and not wonder if she'd been afraid to tell him anything. But if she'd taped it, why not just tell him? he said to himself, and shoved the tape in the VCR with one decisive motion. He returned to the couch and picked up the remote in sweaty hands. Mulder took a deep breath and pushed play. His TV screen lit up blue, then the picture came on. Scully's apartment, the camera showing her empty couch. "Okay, there," he heard her say softly, then she walked into the frame, obviously from behind the camera, and sat down on the couch. Mulder hit the pause button, greedy for the sight of her. She was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt, a half-smile on her face. Mulder's pause had caught her in the middle of a blink, and she looked very peaceful. His mind went back to all the times he'd watched her sleep during stakeouts. She looked like that now. After studying every detail, he started the tape again. "Hi, Mulder," she said, reaching up to tuck her red hair behind one ear. "It's me, obviously." Rewind. "Hi, Mulder..." Rewind. He got up off the couch almost unconsciously, creeping closer to the TV until he was sitting on the floor right in front of it. "Hi, Mulder," she said, reaching up to tuck her red hair behind one ear. "It's me, obviously." Pause. Play. "This is kind of weird, talking to the camera like this. But there are things I need you to know, Mulder, just in case...well, in our line of work, you never know. I admit it, I'm making this tape for you in the event of my death. Morbid of me, perhaps, but this is the second anniversary of Melissa's death, and I've been thinking about her. About how she was taken from me so suddenly. I never got to say good-bye to her, Mulder. I never got to say a lot of things. It was the same way with my father. I almost got you killed trying to get his approval from Luther Boggs." Scully paused here and raked her fingers through her hair, sweeping it back from her face. "Anyway, right about now you're probably asking yourself, why didn't I ever tell you these things to your face? The only answer I can give is that it's not time yet, Mulder. Not for either of us. Everyone likes to think they have all the time in the world, but we both know that's not so. So I wait, until the time is right. Maybe it never will be, who knows. In either case, I want you to have this, these words I am about to say, to comfort you in case I'm not here when our time comes around." Mulder pushed stop, shutting the tape off. He dropped the remote and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "...in case I'm not here when our time comes around." he thought, "I can't do this, Scully," he moaned aloud, removing his hands and watching the dots swim before his blurred vision. "I can't, don't ask me to. It was hard enough to go on without you, but if what I think is true..." her soft voice spoke in his head, Mulder sighed and pushed play again. "First off, Mulder, I want you to know that you are without exception the finest FBI agent I have ever worked with. We may not have often agreed..." Scully paused and chuckled, "Okay, maybe we *never* agreed, but that in no way diminished my respect and admiration of you. In fact, it made me admire you more, for standing firm in your beliefs even in the face of my ever-lasting scientific logic. Those beliefs pulled me from a dark place once, Mulder. They kept me going, more than you know. And even though I worry about what will become of you if anything ever happens to me, I know your beliefs will see you through, as well." Scully took a deep breath and shifted on the couch before continuing. "Now for the more personal stuff, Fox." She smiled mischievously at him. "I couldn't pass up the chance to call you that without having to worry about an evil look. Besides, you always called me Dana when you wanted to get my attention, so it's only fair I get to use your first name for the same purpose. Fox, you have come to mean a lot to me. Expressing my emotions like this is difficult, to say the least. You understand that. There have been so many times when I've left things unsaid. I imagine there will continue to be such times. I'm fighting this instinct now, Mulder, because I want to get this out, even if only to the camera. Someday I hope I have the strength to tell you myself, when it feels right. For now...Mulder, what I'm trying to say is that...I love you." Rewind. "Someday I hope I have the strength to tell you myself, when it feels right. For now...Mulder, what I'm trying to say is that...I love you." Rewind. "Mulder, what I'm trying to say is that...I love you." Rewind. "I love you. I, uh...this is scary, Mulder, and you're not even here. But I know someday you'll hear these words, whether from this tape or my lips. You are my best friend, my confidant, the only one I trust. Over the years I have worked beside you, fought with you, laughed with you, cried over you. I think I first realized how I feel about you when I thought you were dead in New Mexico. I went to Mom and cried on her shoulder, told her everything. After you came back, she couldn't understand why I didn't tell you that I loved you. She told me she knew you felt the same way about me, she'd known that since my abduction. I believe she's right, but I told her you would tell me yourself when you were ready. We both time more time for this, Mulder. Someday, one of us will work up the courage to not only reveal these feelings, but actually acknowledge them completely to ourselves. When we do, I know we'll be happy together. If we didn't, and you're watching this tape because of that, don't blame yourself, please, Mulder. Don't beat yourself up for all the chances you let get away. I had just as many chances to tell *you*, and maybe I never took any of them. But I'm telling you now, for the future, that I love you with all my heart, Fox Mulder. And I know you love me, too. We've told each other in a million little ways. If we never get around to saying the words, well, that's as it will be. Mulder...thank you. For everything. Everything I can't express, everything you've done for me. Thank you. I love you, Mulder." Scully rose from the couch and walked out of the frame. The recording ended, followed by nothing but snow. Mulder pushed fast forward, wanting more of her. The tape stopped with a click and began to rewind. "Oh, Scully," he whispered through his tears, "I love you too. Your mom was right---you did know. I love you so much, Scully..." The rest of his words blurred into muffled sobs. Mulder ached with regret for their unspoken words. It was a lesser pain than the burden of wondering he'd carried for the last two years. Now he knew, and from that knowledge took what comfort he could. *************** End 1/1 Not everything dies... Let me know what you think: *new* email address: jenbird@earthlink.net