From: "Diadem" Date: Mon, 10 May 1999 16:46:52 +0100 Subject: The End by Diadem MSR Title: The End Author: Diadem Rating: Nothing bad: PG, maybe? Category: MSR,A,*Characters die* Archive: just let me know first Spoilers: None specifically, but Scully's cancer has either returned, or it never went away in the first place. Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully do not belong to me, they belong to CC, 10:13, and Fox. No infringement intended: I am not making any money out of this: if I did, it could end up as an X-file of it's own! Notes: OK, there's a bit of stuff needs explaining here. I don't like reading stories where our heroes die, so I don't blame you if you bail now. I am one of those people who enjoy reading and writing about every possible way M&S could get together. However, I don't think it would work in the show, until the end. So, this is my version of the end. PLEASE NOTE, this has nothing to do with the episode that has a similar name to the title of this story (!): I'm just not a very imaginative person. Feedback greatly appreciated (I won't stop writing unless by popular demand: but please, be gentle!) The End "173 Broad Street. 22:10." Mulder glanced down at the scrap of paper he held. He was definitely in the right place: he had checked at least a hundred times during the day, and probably twenty more since he got there. He looked down at his watch. 22:31. Probably another hoax, set up by one of the Agents who seemed to get a kick out of winding Spooky up. He scrunched the slip of paper into a ball, and headed for the exit of the derelict building. "Why," he mused, "can no one give out classified information from a nice, comfortable hotel room, or something. Why does it always have to be these God forsaken dumps that could come crashing down on my head at any minute." His thoughts were interrupted as he almost crashed into a pile of boxes. "Oh, for..." "Agent Mulder?" a female voice interrupted him. "Yes." "I... I don't quite know where to begin." She took a deep breath. "I have obtained some information. I think you may be interested." "Why should I be interested?" He studied the woman as she stepped out of the shadows. He gasped. "Scully?" "No." "But..." "Sometimes, Agent Mulder, you just have to believe in coincidence. I am not your partner, she is at home, sleeping." "Sleeping?" He glanced at his watch. "Agent Mulder, your partner is sick." "You dragged me all the way out here to tell me that? Don't you think I know that already?" He started to advance on her. It struck him that this woman could not be his partner: she couldn't have been more than about eighteen years old. It was the haunted look in her eyes that had confused his judgement from a distance. This girl knew far more than she should do. He stopped about two feet from her. "I know she is sick. It was my fault." The girl's features softened, and for a moment she looked just like Scully had on that fateful morning when she had first walked into his office, naive and innocent. "It was not your fault, Agent Mulder. You can not go on believing that if you want to find the truth." Mulder resisted the temptation to look down at his feet, and stared straight at her, defying her scolding. "But there is much more that you don't know." she continued. "Agent Scully's tumour has metastesised, spread into her blood stream. I know she hasn't told you yet. She may not even know it herself yet..." "Then how do you know?" Mulder's voice had turned threatening again. "It doesn't matter." "It matters to me!" The girl stepped back from him. "Agent Mulder, that is not what I came here to tell you. What I came to tell you, is that, if you are at the summit of Skyland mountain two days from now, you can find out your truth. They will take you, to the same place they took Agent Scully, and your sister. You will find all your answers." "How do I know you're not just trying to get me out of DC?" "Agent Mulder, I am seventeen years old. When I was eight, I was abducted. I know your sister, Agent Mulder. She is still there. She is too valuable to be returned. When they find out I have spoken to you, they will kill me. I have nothing to gain by giving you false information." "Why tell me at all? It sounds like you have more to lose than gain." She turned her back, and walked away. Mulder stood, struggling to grasp what he had just been told. Scully. His sister. That damned mountain, again. "Wait!" he ran after the retreating figure. "Where can I find you again?" "Agent Mulder." The girl turned back to face him, a sad smile on her face. "I am dead the minute I get out of here. There will be no point finding me again." She paused, and thrust her hand deep into the pocket of her coat. "If things get too bad, take this." She handed him a small plastic bag, with a white capsule inside. "Goodbye, Agent Mulder." He thought he heard her voice crack, as she exited the building. He regarded the package carefully, then slipped it into one of the many inside pockets his trench coat concealed. As he did so, he heard a gunshot from the street, followed by the screech of tyres. Almost without thinking, he followed the sound, sprinting out onto the street. As he had suspected, all that was left was a slight bloodstain on the sidewalk. Dana Scully's Apartment 23:02 It was raining. Dana Scully rolled over in her bed, only dimly aware of the weather. She had been sleeping more and more lately. A usual day would be eight or nine hours at the office, an hour to commute, and twelve or thirteen hours sleep before the routine began again. She was grateful that she had been able to keep her new sleep patterns from Mulder: he would undoubtably make her stop working if he knew how ill she really was, and she couldn't let that happen. She needed her work. She needed him. All it would take, though, was one case: just one case, one stakeout, one long car journey, and she would no longer be able to keep him in the dark. If she fell asleep on duty, her career would be over. Oh, Mulder wouldn't tell, but she couldn't put him in that kind of danger. She would have to turn herself in. The wind had changed direction, pounding the rain against the window of her bedroom. With a resigned sigh, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, heading towards the window to pull it shut. This accompished, she started to draw the curtains back, but stopped for a moment, and just stared at the sky. Anapolis was a big place, and the millions of streetlights reflected off the clouds, making them appear orange. The colour was a little brighter in the east, making it clear to someone who knew the sky like Scully did, that there was snow on the way. She found herself wishing for snow: lots and lots of snow. If they were snowbound, there would be no question of leaving Washington. Much as she hated driving in the snow, she knew it would be easier that way. She sighed again, and flopped down onto the bed. She was just rolling herself under the covers again when the phone rang. So much for the snow. "Scully." She was not surprised to hear Mulder's voice on the other end. "It's me. Can you be ready in twenty minutes?" Another sigh. "Ready for what, Mulder?" "I'll explain when I get there. Bring something warm." "Mulder, I really don't feel like skiing right now." Silence. "Mulder? MULDER!" A cough. "Uh, Scully?" "Yes?" "Did you see the doctor this week?" "Yes." Silence. "Everything's fine, Mulder." "OK. See you in a few minutes." Scully had to wipe a tear away from her eye as she placed the receiver back in it's cradle. How could she tell him? The tests had revealed that the cancer had spread. She had weeks, a couple of months at the most. But she doubted she could ever tell him. Resigned to an out of town trip, Scully began to dress. Across town, Mulder's thoughts were following pretty much the same track. How could he tell her. He knew in his heart that he never could, but the thought of lying to her... well, it was out of the question. He could only hope that the subject never came up. It was going to be bad enough trying to persuade her to go back to that mountain. No matter how many times she told him she was fine, he could see that she was getting weaker. There were dark rings around her eyes, and they no longer sparkled the way they used to. She had a haunted look, that he was used to seeing only on himself. She had lost weight, a lot of weight. But she was still Scully, she was still beautiful, and she was still trying to protect him. He wiped away a tear as he pulled up to her building. Dana Scully's Apartment 23:50 "OK, let's go." Mulder stared at her. "No, I think you forgot your lines. This is the part where you say 'Don't be stupid, Mulder' and make me leave. Not the part where you say 'OK, let's go.' That doesn't come for a couple of hours, at least." "Mulder. I am tired. It is obvious that I am not going to get any sleep here tonight. If I agree, I can sleep in the car, because you won't dare not let me." She glared at him, daring him to contradict her. "OK? So let's go." "Let's go." Mulder echoed. He bent to pick up her bag, and accepted her smile of thanks with a grin. Behind the grin, however, he missed the Scully that would have grabbed it out of his hands and insisted that she could manage to carry her own bag, thank you very much. He was grateful to her though, for letting him help her. It was something he was rarely able to do. He followed her out of the door, pausing as she stopped to lock it. "Mulder?" She sounded uneasy. "Yeah?" He put the bag down near his feet. "I... oh, it doesn't matter." "Are you sure?" "No." "Do you want to talk about it?" "No." He knew better than to push her. Instead, he put his arms around her, and hugged her close. "Whenever you're ready, Scully, I'll be here." She squeezed him tight. "I know you will. Thankyou." Somewhere dark 24 hours later "Mulder, you need to sleep. Please, let me drive for a bit." "I'm fine, Scully." "I know that trick." "You taught me that trick." "So let me drive. Just for an hour." "Just for an hour?" "Just for an hour." "Then you'll wake me?" "Then I'll wake you." "Promise?" "Mulder! Just stop the damn car!" "Promise?" "Promise!" "Well, OK then. If you're sure." "Mulder!" She had been driving for five hours. Having slept most of the day before, she felt rested, and knew she could manage more than an hour of driving. Hell, if she could manage eight hours in the basement, she could manage at least ten behind the wheel. Besides, Mulder was out cold in the passenger seat, and she didn't have the heart to wake him. It also gave her time to think. She had to tell Mulder about her illness. He had probably guessed already: she knew it was obvious that something was wrong. Well, wronger than it had been before. The problem was, she couldn't work out how to tell him. Straight out? That was probably the best way. But then, if he really was going to be taken tonight, he need never know. And that was the other thing. She was trying not to think about it, but she didn't want him to go. Of course she didn't, he was her best, and just about only friend. But she knew that this was something he needed to do. It was what he had been working for for so long. She couldn't stand in his way. She would rather he remembered her as she had been, rather than dying in a sterile hospital room. But even so, she had always imagined him there with her when the end finally came. The sky was starting to lighten in the east. "A new day," her mother had once said to her, "is a new beginning." A new beginning. No room for lies or deception. She had to tell him. If he ever came back he would need to know what had happened. She pulled the car over to the side of the road, and killed the engine. "Mulder?" She shook his shoulder gently. "Hmmm?" She smiled a little as he shifted in the seat, but did not open his eyes. "Mulder, wake up." "Oh." He sat up, running a hand across his face. "Sorry. My turn to drive. What time is it?" Scully glanced at her watch. "Nearly six." "Six? Scully," he scolded her, "You promised to wake me in an hour." "Come on Mulder, give me some credit. You need to sleep too. And anyway," she continued as she saw the protests approaching, "I didn't wake you because I was tired, I woke you because I... well, I think I ought to tell you something." Silence. He was just sitting there, waiting for her to continue, his eyes smiling encouragement. But there was something else there too, a pain, almost as though she had told him already. She took a deep breath. "Mulder, it's the cancer. It has metastesised, spread into my blood stream. I have a few weeks, and then..." Mulder remained silent. He had decided he wouldn't tell her, wouldn't let on that he knew. But she knew now, too. He couldn't protect her any longer. He turned and stared out of the car window. "Scully," His voice was hoarse, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Scully, if you don't want me to go, I won't." There, he had said it. He wasn't sure that he meant it, but he'd said it. "Mulder." Her voice was choked with tears, and he spun round, fearing what he would see. Scully never cried unless something was seriously, very seriously, wrong. "I could never stop you doing anything you needed to do. I couldn't do that to you." She lifted her head, and Mulder could see the tears in her eyes. Stubborn to the last, she refused to let them fall. He knew then that he had meant what he had said: all she had to do was say the word, and he would come running. He reached across, and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to him. "You have to go." She told him. "This is what you've been working for for all those years." "It's what you've been working for, too." He reminded her. "Yeah." She sighed into his coat. They sat there for a few moments, each thinking what the future might hold for both of them. "Do you think you'll come back?" Scully asked, her fear evident in her voice. Although he wasn't really sure, Mulder answered "Yeah. They could never keep us apart before. Why should this be any different?" He squeezed her to him for a second, and then let go. "Do you want me to drive?" He was thrilled to see her smile at this, even though he had only half meant it as a joke. "OK," she conceded. "But only if you wake me in an hour." They arrived at the top of the mountain with five minutes to spare. As Mulder stepped out of the car, he was amazed to see a crowd of people obscuring the view of the summit. As a young boy ran past, Mulder grabbed him by the back of his coat. "What's going on?" He demanded. "Only a flying saucer, Mister!" The boy's eyes were shining with excitement as he ran off into the crowd. As Mulder turned back to Scully, he saw that her eyes, too, were shining, although he doubted it was with excitement. She stood by the car door, leaning against it, with her arms crossed over her chest. "Go on." She gestured towards the crowd. "You don't want to keep your audience waiting." "Then you'd better come as well." He countered. "I can't go on without my leading lady." He held his hand out, praying that she would take it, and let him touch her just one more time. She blinked twice, and went to join him, but instead of taking his hand, she threw her arms around his waist. "I'm gonna miss you, Spooky." She whispered. "I'm gonna miss you too." He buried his face in her hair. "Whose going to keep me in line now?" She drew away from him, and unfastened her chain from around her throat, and held it out to him. "Take it." Hesitating only once, Mulder accepted the tiny cross, and fastened it round his own neck. "I have to go." His voice was hoarse. She could only nod, as he began to walk away. He knew it was a mistake. He should never have looked back. But he couldn't resist one more glimpse of her beautiful hair, her lovely face. What he saw, however, broke his heart. She stood there, tears pouring down her face, her hand held tightly over her mouth. What could he do? He reached her in seconds, holding her tight against himself, tears now flowing down his own face as well. After a few seconds, she pulled away slightly, and looked up into his eyes. "Oh, Mulder." Her face buried itself once again in the front of his shirt. "I love you so much." His heart skipped. Time stopped. He took a deep breath. "Do you really mean that?" He asked, his words catching. "Of course I do." There was silence as he hugged her again, then, as she pulled away, he leaned down and kissed her, softly, just once. "Come with me." He whispered. "Can I?" She asked. "I mean, will they let me." "I don't know." He answered, honestly. "But I can't go without you." She smiled as he wiped away the wetness from her cheeks. She took his hand, and started to follow him through the crowd. Suddenly, he heard a gasp, and felt her hand slip from his. He whirled around, just in time to see her crumple to the ground, her hands clutching at her head. "Scully!" He screamed, falling to her side. "Scully." He said it softly this time, as he pulled her into his arms. "It's OK, it's all right." But she couldn't hear him, and he knew it. He looked down at her, then at the "space ship." He had no choice. "Some one call for help!" He shouted, to no one in particular. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and tossed it to a young woman who was standing nearby. "Call 911!" But even as he pulled Scully into his lap, he knew it was too late. Sometime later Room 142 Everyone had gone now. No doctors, nurses, neurologists, EMTs, porters. All of them had gone, leaving them alone. Alone. Mulder stood at the window, staring out into the night. He had never felt so alone. Scully was still alive, technically, but only with the support of the machines, and not for much longer. Had it really only been two days ago that this had started? Everything had been normal - well, as normal as it ever got for them, but that was part of their job. They were Mr and Mrs Spooky. Now it's just Spooky, Mulder thought. He supposed he should call Mrs Scully. She should be there. He reached inside his coat to retrieve his phone. It wasn't there. Must have left it up on that damned mountain, he realised. Mulder was about to withdraw his hand, when his fingers brushed against plastic. He closed his hand around it, and pulled it out. With a start, he realised that it was the capsule his mysterious Scully-esque informant had given him. Almost without thinking, never stopping to consider, Mulder crossed the room to where Scully lay. He picked up a lock of hair, and ran it through his fingers, allowing it to drop back onto the pillow. He leaned down, and pressed his lips to her forehead. Then he drew back, and turned around. Slowly, methodically, he flipped the switches on her life support machine. Taking a long last look at her, he lay down beside her, and placed the capsule in his mouth. It began to take effect immediately. When the night nurse poked her head round the door ten minutes later, she found two people, one with his arms around the other. Neither were still breathing. * She was waiting for him. As he stepped into the light, she was there, smiling and as beautiful as ever. She reached for him, and he took her hand, letting her lead him to their future together. End AAARRRGGGHH! I've done it again!!! Tips on how to write un- corny endings, as well as any other feedback to me at Diadem@cwcom.net (yes, it has changed!)