Subject: DRIFT AWAY--Marguerite
From: marguerite@swbell.net
Date: 2 Jan 1998 15:46:55 -0500

Title:  Drift Away
Author:  Marguerite
Classification:  MSA
Rating:  PG
Spoilers:  Gethsemane
Keywords:  Mulder/Scully friendship--deep and abiding
WARNING:  CHARACTER DEATH
Description:  Mulder, who has been hidden away after his faked suicide,
comes in from the cold to let Scully know he's alive

Archive:  Anywhere, but please e-mail me and let me know
All feedback, for good or ill, is welcome--how else can I learn?

marguerite@swbell.net

Disclaimer:  The characters I am about to torture belong to Chris
Carter, 20th-Century Fox, etc.

I couldn't resist a little New Year's Eve angst.


							DRIFT AWAY

	"It's a good thing you got here when you did, sir," said the floor
nurse, a gentle-voiced woman in her forties.  "She's been declining
steadily the last few days.  It could happen any time."  She opened the
door to a small private room and showed him in.  "She's been unconscious
off and on.  We've got her on the maximum amount of morphine we can give
her."  A comforting hand went on his arm.  "It was a courageous fight."
	Mulder, gritting his teeth against the fear that was sweeping over him,
nodded at her.  "I know you did everything you could," he said softly. 
"I'm very grateful to you."
	"I'll leave you alone with her.  Call if you need me."
	Amidst the tubes and bandages, Scully was nearly lost from view.  Only
her scarlet hair broke the monotony of the white bed with its white
occpuant.  Mulder had to draw very near to make out his partner's face,
lines of pain around her mouth and between her eyes even as she slept. 
With a heavy heart he took one paper-thin hand and held it to his lips. 
"I'm here," he said softly.  "I'm here."
	There was no response.  The shallow breathing was regular and the
impossibly pale skin was cool, but the person inside was far, far away. 
A heart monitor registered slow beeps.  Bending low over her, Mulder
touched the bandages on her forehead and kissed them very tenderly. 
"I'm so sorry.  I wish someone had told me sooner; I would never have
let you go through this alone.  I got here as soon as I could."  Still
there was no sign of recognition, and his heart nearly broke.  "Please
try to hear me.  I came to say goodbye.  I wanted to see you--to hear
your voice one last time.  Please..."
	Scully stirred faintly, a tiny moan of pain escaping her lips as she
struggled to break the surface of consciousness.  With a great effort
she opened her heavy eyes.  It took a moment for her to recognize him,
confused as she was with morphine and the sight of a manshe knew to be
dead, and she blinked silently for a few moments.  At last she smiled
through cracked lips.  "You came back for me," she whispered.
	"I came to see you," he corrected gently.
	"Aren't you going to take me with you?"  Her voice was plaintive.  "I'm
ready to go.  I've missed you so much."
	"Oh, Scully, I've missed you, too.  But now I have to tell you
something.  Can you understand me?"
	As she awoke fully her eyes were bright even through the haze of
discomfort.  "I don't know if I ever understood you, Mulder."
	"I know," he said, laughing a little, yet still at the verge of
breaking down.  "I wanted you to know...that night in my
apartment...that wasn't my body you saw."  There was bewildered
silence.  "It was a construct, Scully, made by the same people who made
the alien corpses.  Skinner found it when he was checking on
Kritschgau's story.  God knows what they were going to do with it."
	"Then you didn't--you didn't commit suicide?"
	"I wanted to.  I intended to.  Then Skinner turned up; he confirmed
what you said about the conspiracy giving you cancer to make me
believe."  The green eyes spoke eloquently of his misery.  "I was insane
with guilt.  Skinner told me that your only chance at survival rested on
my death--that maybe the cabal would keep you alive if I were gone.  We
were wrong."
	"Mulder.  All this time you were alive?"  She tried to reach for him,
but her hands were too weak and fell limply at her sides.  "I've grieved
for you, Mulder.  You should've told me.  I'd have kept the secret."
	"I know."  He took the fallen hand and held it close to his heart as he
continued.  "Skinner thought it best that you really believe I had
died.  For your own protection.  He's hidden me away since that night,
mostly in Mexico.  But yesterday I heard...he called to say..." At last
his voice cracked and the tears began to fall.  "I didn't want to let
you suffer alone, but Skinner never told me how sick you were.  I'd have
come back in an instant if I'd known.  If only I'd known..."
	"Don't.  It's all right.  I'm just sorry you have to see me like this."
	He looked at her, at the colorless face dominated by her huge aqua
eyes, made larger by the dark circles beneath them.  She was thin, her
body a fragile porcelain cocoon from which her soul longed to burst.  He
shuddered.  "I never should've let Skinner put me into hiding.  I
should've been here with you, Scully."
	"They did everything they could--including some pretty radical attempts
at surgery.  But now it's over and I'll finally have some peace."  She
laughed, then coughed, wincing.  "I was looking forward to seeing you on
the other side, so you could finally tell me how right you were."
	"I've seen it, Scully.  I was dead for a few minutes in Mexico, after I
was in a car accident."  He touched her face, looking deeply into her
sad eyes.  "You don't have to be afraid.  You'll be with your father and
Melissa again.  I saw my father.  And Samantha."
	"Then she's really...I'm so sorry, Mulder."
	"At least now I know."  They were silent for a few moments, thinking,
then he asked:  "Is there anything I can do for you?"
	"Is it morning or night?" was the seemingly irrelevant question she
used as an answer.
	"Early evening.  Why?"
	"Would you take me outside?  I haven't seen the sky in so long." 
Suddenly she hissed as the pain returned in a crashing wave.  "Wait." 
She pressed the button on the morphine pump, moaning at the burning
sensation of the liquid entering her body.  "My veins are worn out, but
it doesn't matter any more.  I want this to be my last dose.  I'm ready
for it to be over."  She appealed to him with her eyes.  "Will you help
me."
	"Scully."  Miserable, he watched helplessly until the drugs soothed her
agony and she smiled weakly at him.  "I know you're tired," he said
softly.  "You've been very brave for a long time, Scully.  If this is
really what you want..."
	"It is," she said firmly, her eyes fixed on Mulder's.
	He nodded.  "Then let's go."  He unplugged tubes and monitors, waving
away the nurse who had rushed immediately into the room.  "Please--just
let us be," he begged, and the kind-hearted woman nodded her consent,
touching Scully's hand as she removed the life-sustaining equipment and
wrapped her in a blanket.  With incredible gentleness Mulder lifted her
in his arms; she felt almost weightless, as if she were nothing more
than the spirit that was slipping away.  The nurse opened the doors for
them and they found themselves in the hospice's garden.  Mulder seated
himself on a park bench, holding Scully across his lap with her head on
his shoulder.
	"It's nice here," she whispered.  "It smells so fresh."
	"It's been a pretty spring.  Can you smell the cherry blossoms?"
	"I think so."
	He reached up a long arm to pull down one of the graceful branches,
taking a flower in his fingers and stroking her cheek with it.  "It's so
soft," Scully murmured.  "Mulder, would you mind holding my hand?"
	"Of course not," he answered quickly, taking her hand in his and
stroking it, mindful of the bruises where the I/V lines had taken their
toll.  "You have such little hands.  When you first introduced yourself
to me, I was afraid of breaking your hand when I shook it."  He smiled
wistfully at the memory.  "I didn't know then just how strong you really
are."
	"Not any more.  I'm so tired, Mulder.  I don't know how I lasted this
long.  Maybe I was waiting for you."
	"Maybe."  He cradled her closer, feeling her exhausted body clinging to
the last moments of life.  "What're you thinking about?"
	"My mother, and my brothers.  I wanted to say goodbye to them."
	"I'll tell them," he promised.  "They'll be comforted that you've gone
to a place where there's no more pain."
	"That's what's so strange--there isn't any pain now.  It just seems to
peaceful."  She paused.  "I'm still a little scared, though."
	"That's okay.  I'll help you."  Adjusting his position, he was able to
look directly at her.  "Just keep looking into my eyes.  Focus on them,
and think back on the things that made you happiest.  You don't have to
tell me; just think about them and look into my eyes."
	Even through her fear she could see his anguish.  "Mulder, are those
tears?"
	"A few," he admitted, trying to smile for her sake.  "Just relax.  I'll
help you find your way home.  You're going to be all right now, Dana."
	"Dana?" she queried archly.  "Now I know I'm dying."
	They both managed to laugh; Mulder put his hand on the side of her face
and looked compassionately into her eyes, memorizing them.  He was
surprised to find himself so composed at watching her prepare to leave
him, her lips forming a gentle smile as she let her friend's comforting
face ease her terror.  She found that her own eyes felt heavy and she
struggled to stay awake.  "Don't try so hard," Mulder told her.  "When
you're ready, just let yourself drift away.  I'll be here, holding you."
	"I'm sorry," she whispered.  "I want to stay with you, but I can't hold
on any more."
	"I know, I know."  He kissed her forehead.  Stifling the sob that rose
in his throat, he put his cheek next to hers and whispered, "We'd better
say goodbye, then."
	"Goodbye, Mulder.  Fox.  Thank you for--everything."  She pulled
together all her strength and squeezed his hand.  "Last favor?"
	"Anything," he promised in a voice full of sorrow.
	"Please--kiss me."
	With his whole soul on his lips, he took her head in his hands and
pressed his mouth to hers, lingering until he felt the rush of her last
breath and she fell limp in his embrace.  "Goodbye, Dana," he wept,
still holding her tightly with his tortured face turned to heaven.  "Oh,
God, please, if You're really there...help me...take care of her..." 
The evening chill turned his tears to stinging frost, but nothing felt
as cold as the body he sheltered so lovingly.
	It was dark, stars shining brilliantly against the night sky, when
Skinner came up from behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.  Mulder
did not move.  "Agent Mulder."  Skinner sat on his heels, looked at
Mulder's face, and swallowed hard.  There could be only one explanation
for what he saw.
	"'Now cracks a noble heart,'" he quoted softly.
	For they had drifted away together, never again to be parted.


END