From: Xfilenutz@aol.com Date: Sat, 23 Oct 1999 17:33:13 EDT Subject: "Fading Endlessly" Source: direct Fading Endlessly- By Claire Kooyman Summary: This is me exploring Scully and Mulder's relationship during the time Scully had cancer. Timeline: April 1997, around Dedication/Thanks: I need to thank a few people first and foremost. They would be Shipperchick- for the excellent, informative, appreciated, editing! And for being a great friend!- , Kaila -for being a great, funny, supportive friend. Ich Liebe Dich-, Ang -for being the wonderful frog that you are! I love you!-, The entire PPoS -for all the laughs and moral support-, and last of all, everyone involved in the making of the X-Files - except TFO! OF COURSE!!-. (Also, I really appreciate Adam Duritz's incredibly inspirational music. ) Disclaimer: Neither the X-Files nor the song "Mercury" belong to me. I someday hope to create things this wonderful and intelligent, but until then, I'm just playing with *their* ideas! Got to start off with the right mentors! Author's Notes: It took me QUITE a long time to write this, so PLEASE , if you enjoyed it, let me know @ this address : Darkness_falls_@yahoo.com...and if you hated it, well, "Sticks and stones may break my bones..." ~On with the show!~ ******************** "She is trapped inside a month of grey and they take a little every day She is a victim of her own responses Shackled to a heart that wants to settle And then runs away It's a sin to be fading endlessly Yeah but she's alright with me." "Mercury"-Music and lyrics by Adam F. Duritz, Counting Crows ********************* Another Sunday. I know Scully's religion considers this the day of rest. I wish I could just choose a day when I would allow myself to rest, but it seems I will never be able to. There is too much to be done, and too much I feel responsible for, for me to relax. Scully's dying. It's unbelievable that at the same time that she wilts in a hospital bed, the flowers in the garden outside her window bloom with the first signs of spring. Outside, the world is alive with color everywhere: blue, green; purples and reds. Inside, all is grey, all is hopeless. The one thing, (well, one of many things), that always scared me when it came to cancer was the treatments the patients were given. Chemotherapy seems to make the patient sicker everyday. In my many trips to the hospital, I sometimes saw cancer patients. I would wince, looking at their bald heads. I could only imagine the way they looked merely months ago. Most likely much better then they did when I saw them. Now it has become intensely personal. The sunken eyes are not unclaimed; they are her eyes. The hair missing, is not missed by a faceless patient with nameless loved ones. I am well aware of the grieving family and friends. I am one. Scully refuses to acknowledge her illness in an incredibly personal way. She has checked herself into a hospital because she knows she has to, but she still remains closed off when I try to talk to her about alternative cures. It's almost, as if, by not acknowledging the current situation isn't improving, she can hide her fate from herself and everyone else. I know her illness leaves her with little left to live for, and so many regrets. She has never said anything to me about them, but many factors make it easy for me to assume she wants something she can't reach when she's with me. I mean, a young woman: single, intelligent, beautiful, tolerant, and loving. That alone proves she deserves to be in a relationship with someone who loves her and treats her well. And then there's that look she gets in her eyes. She'll be staring out the hospital window, and sometimes I'll catch her doing that before she notices I've come in to visit her. Her eyes are haunting. Surrounded by the black bags the cancer has caused, her blue eyes are planets isolated in space; all the more beautiful because of the ugly landscape around them. After I notice her eyes, my gaze always flies to her chin, quivering. And as I look at her in all her pain and beauty, she always notices I'm there. Even when she's dying, physically and spiritually, her Mulder!Radar is still on. She can't allow herself to daydream around others, so when she sees me, more likely senses me, looking at her, she backs up as if burned. It's a sin to be vulnerable; "Thou shalt not hurt publicly" is her own personal commandment.
Today is one of these same days. She has just discovered me, so I'm now sitting in an uncomfortable chair beside her bed. And the room strikes me, not for the first time, as extremely impersonal. It angers me that she, who is very personal with those who she cares for, should be forced to exist in a room working against her. "I'll fix that someday," I think. But, then I brush this thought away, because fixing the room implies that she will be here for a long time, and, regardless of the outcome of her illness, I think morbidly, she won't be here for long. She speaks. --So Mulder, did you rent me a movie today? I'm getting really antsy in here. Almost stir crazy, I think. -- --You want a video, Scully? I have plenty of videos at home I could bring you...-- She smirks. --They don't allow *THOSE* here I don't think, Mulder.-- --You *know* I didn't mean those. What kind of movie *do* you want?-- --Something light. While you're at it, bring me some ice cream. I have a feeling the nurses'll give you hell if they see you taking it in...so be a good little smuggler and hide it when you come in?-- --So, now I'm not only your -Movie Man-, I'm also doing illegal things for you Scully? I don't think friends are expected to do this, even close ones.-- --Never stopped you from asking me, Mulder.-- --Ouch. Ok, I'm going already. Don't piss the nurses off while I'm gone.-- --If memory serves, I believe you're the one who's known to do that, not me.-- --Gone! I'm gone, Scully! Enough!-- She couldn't see me smiling, but I knew she'd know. I also knew that she had a similar smile gracing her face. If only all things in her life were as perfect as her smile. ******************** End part 1. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part 2 "She is leaving on a walkaway She is leaving me in disarray In the absence of a place to be She stands there looking back at me Hesitates, and then turns away She'll change so suddenly She's just like mercury Yeah, but she's alright with me." ~Mercury, Adam F. Duritz ~~~~~~~~ I leave quickly and quietly, slinking down the hallway, hurrying into an elevator. I thank whatever deities there are for the fact that it's empty. It is not deserted enough, however. I'm still surrounded by my thoughts. They take a lot out of me, these little conversations we have. She tries so hard to be "normal" and I'm forced to play along. So often I want to give up the masks we wear. So many times I have wanted to fall on my knees, begging her not to leave me. I still can't *believe* she's leaving. Leaving. Many times in the past, I have become paranoid, dreading the thought that one day, she would stop working with me. It strikes me now how petty those thoughts were, because the issue pales in comparison to the situation now. Now I'm worried that she will stop breathing the same air as I do. I'm worried about the moment she will stop breathing altogether. A random song lyric crosses my mind.... "But how strange, the change, from major to minor..." How does that line end? I make it to the deserted parking lot without incident. I hop into the empty car, and drive out onto the road. Now all I can feel is the utter loneliness around me. I miss driving places with Scully. Even when it was silent, there was never this feeling. This void. I pull the car over to the side of the road. Memories and a guilty conscience drag me across hot coals. Her pain fills me, until I swear my head aches like her's must. *But,* I tell myself, *your heart will never ache like hers. You never had to know exactly where your sister was, but not be able to go to her when she was dying.* Involuntarily, I shudder. I can't even imagine that. Nobody but no one understands the pain Scully goes through daily. As sobs storm through my body like tiny enemies, I am startled when I hear my cel-phone trill. --Mulder,-- I manage to choke out. --It's Scully. Hey are you all right?-- *Oh great, now I have her worrying about me. ~Which~ one of us is calling from the hospital?* --I'll be ok, Scully.-- I sound a little better, but I doubt I'm fooling her. --What did you call about?-- --Oh, it's stupid. I just wanted to make sure you knew which ice cream flavor to get. Chocolate.-- I laugh. Just what I would've gotten anyway. I can hear the smile on her face. --I just realized how pointless that sounded. I guess I just missed you, Mulder. What were you upset about when I called?-- I knew I couldn't get past her that easily. I pause to think. An entire minute passes. --C'mon Mulder, spill it.-- --I dunno, Scully. I guess the reality of our situation just hit me. Our cancer was getting to be too much, I guess.-- When did I start calling it that?
--Our cancer, Mulder?--
--It affects me, Scully. I feel like it's attacking me, like I'm fighting it with you. I know it's stupid.-- --No, it isn't stupid. I'm touched that you feel that way Mulder. I only worry that you let yourself get too involved...that you feel too much.-- --Too involved? I could never step away from this.-- --I know, I know. When I said that , I was just wishing that you wouldn't hurt for me. I want you to get out of this hospital, I want you to work. That's what you'd *expect* from me.-- --But,-- tears threaten again,--I can't. I just...can't, Scully. You mean too much to me.-- --Mulder.-- Her voice is a half exasperated sigh, half affectionate murmur. --Listen, Scully, I'm almost home. I'm going to get your ice cream from the store, and your video, and head back. Do you want me to grab you some dinner?-- It was almost 7:00 PM. --No, they enjoy making me eat the alien substance they like to call food....But ~you~ eat. And hurry back.-- --All right. Bye.-- She yawned, and then I heard her sigh again. --Bye,--she whispered. I pressed "End" on the phone, and pulled back onto the road. I drive quickly, and park in the supermarket's bustling parking lot. I go in, and search for the Frozen Foods section. Finding it, I look over the Ice Cream. There are a lot of interesting kinds of ice cream, but, she just said "chocolate." So, I pick up a Ben and Jerry's carton of chocolate ice cream out of the freezer, and head to the counter. After paying, I dash to "Movie Magic," the brown grocery bag still clutched in my hands. Searching through the movies, I just can't think straight. (*She said she missed me.*) Maybe "Casablanca"? Nah. She wanted something light. I finally ask a young ditzy-looking clerk, the only one there, to help me. --Light?--*Pop!* She blew an unsuccessful bubble. -- Hmm...how about 'The Good-bye Girl?' -- *Wow, I'm surprised she even knows that one. Must be on the list of funny movies to recommend by the employer.* I smirk. 'The Good-bye Girl' is a Robert Redford flick from quite a while ago. When I saw it a long time ago, thought it was almost tolerable, for a romantic comedy. Why not? The ice cream's melting, and I'm eager to leave this damn place, go home, shower, and get back to Scully. Maybe eat somewhere in between. Out loud I just say, --Sure.-- I pay and leave. I go home, put the ice cream in my freezer, shower , put the ice cream and the movie *back* in the car, and I'm off again. Lastly, I grab a hamburger from Burger King on my way over. *That'll make Scully happy.* I reach her room and clutch the bag with the ice cream and the movie tightly. Knocking, I let myself in. --Hey,-- I say to Scully, who is lazily reading the newest Stephen King. --Hey,-- she smiles. --It's movie time.-- Halfway through the movie, Scully dozes off. I think about leaving the movie on and just going to sleep right next to her, but my conscience won't let me. So I pad over to the VCR and stop the tape. I put it in it's case, and jam it into the same bag I brought it in. With the lights off, the room has the atmosphere of a deserted church. The scented candles Scully put around the room (she said they reminded her of Melissa...) light up the altar : her bed where she lies sleeping. Pure, knowing, loving, forgiving. By all accounts, Scully has to be in the running for Sainthood. But in my mind, she already is one. A flood of thoughts always come to me when I watch her sleep. Her face, figure, and strength are inspirational beauty, and I can't count the number of times that answers to problems I didn't even know I had until then have been solved, just by watching her rest. Opening the door quietly to leave, I stop where I stand when I hear her murmur, --I want to go home, Mulder.-- At first, it seems like she's talking in her sleep. But I quickly notice her eyes are wide open. All I can do is gape. THIS is unexpected. I mean, I knew these feelings were below the surface, but I never dreamt it would appear so suddenly.
--Scully...I..-- --I want to be in my bed, with MY pajamas on. I want to look out of my window, and see the moon looking over into the street. I don't want to be here, lying in a hospital bed with plastic for clothes, awake in the middle of the night looking helplessly at a moonless sky. I miss my job, Mulder. And I miss my home.-- Tears are shimmering in the corners of her eyes. --Where did this come from, Scully? I mean, you were fine up until now,-- I ask , knowing full well what has caused her reaction. It's a combination of too much stress, and not enough honesty between us. --I don't know, Mulder. I guess I'm just tired,and everything seems to be catching up to me. There's not even enough time in my life to say good-bye. At this age, I never expected to be saying that. And I miss the routine. I feel like I don't have a place where I belong. I'm as lost as those children on the milk cartons.-- She sighs, obviously depressed. I remember being taught by my mother that actions spoke louder then words. Although this was before Samantha disappeared, I always thought that the advice was more appropriate for my parents. I remember how she said it, her voice wistful. I know suddenly that nothing I can say to Scully will make her feel better. It's the actions that count between us anyway. So I go back to the chair beside her, and hold her hand. I've been sitting there with her for five minutes, and she hasn't said a word since her outburst. I'm rubbing the back of her hand with my thumb, and studying the shadow patterns the moonlight makes on the walls. Then I hear it. Quiet sobs emanating from her direction. I turn to look at her, and she nods. I wrap my arms around her hesitantly, then relax a little when she leans in, crying quietly. Together, we make it through another sleepless night in Hell. And as I am finally drifting asleep, somewhere between 4am and dawn, I remember. "But how strange, the change from major to minor. Every time we say good-bye." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End Part 2 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part 3 ~ "Keep some sorrow in your heart and mind For the things that die before their time. For the restlessly abandoned homes, The tired and weary rambler's bones, And stay beside me where I lie. She's entwined in me, Crazy as can be. Yeah but she's alright with me." I am dreaming. I know I am dreaming, because nothing in this tunnel of emotions and sensations feels real. In the fuzzy world of sleep, colors rush past my eyes- sapphire, emerald, turquoise, violet...and images. The images are faint pictures of what used to be, what might happen. It seems like my life is rushing past in still frames, and I am passive, unable to stop the bombardment of emotions that accompany them. People I know; acquaintances, friends, family- they all pass through this dream. I see Pendrell, Skinner, my mother, father, Melissa, Charlie, Bill, and lastly, Mulder.While most of the people I see are spinning downwards through this rabbit hole endlessly, Mulder is somehow suspended in the air, and my eyes are unable to leave his. It feels like my face is burning, the air is too hot, it simply swelters around me; the sensation is not unlike a lover's arms surrounding me. He opens his mouth to speak, and I look at him expectantly, but then he too has disappeared. Suddenly life experiences are rushing by. My 4th birthday with the funny party hats, the spelling bee in 5th grade, my first day of highschool in a new town; unfamiliar faces everywhere I look, strange, and unfriendly. Leaving home to go to Medical School; that look of pride in Ahab's eye as I drove off in the battered old car I used to drive. My first cadaver, and the shiver that runs through my entire body when I realize I am really going to cut into some person I don't know. My first day of the FBI, my first day with Mulder. Tooms, Betts, Ahab, Melissa, and suddenly it's as if whoever is controlling this morbid slideshow skips a few of the pictures, and stops at the present time. Cancer. Now I have this burning curiosity inside me. I look around at what used to be a room full of ghosts and memories. Now the room is empty. The entire atmosphere seems to suggest, "show's over." I can't accept that , and I scream, -What happens next? What happens next?- More upsetting than any answer I might have received is the echo of my own voice. ~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~! I'm stuck in a nightmare. I know it's a nightmare, because my nightmares always start off this way. I'm back at home, sitting in my room, waiting for someone, exactly who I'm waiting for is unclear. I'm an adult, but the vulnerability I felt as a child remains like a scar, a tribute to a bad time that will never go away. There's a pounding on my door, and I cower in the corner of my bed, fearing who will come in. I expect my father, drunk from a night at the bar, but instead my sister walks in. She too is grown up, but, as if to taunt me, wears her hair in braids the way I used to do it for her. It's the simple innocence in her hair contrasted with the look of pure menace and evil in her face that disturbs me. It's what I've always expected she would look like when she came back. She is silent, the glower on her face her only form of communication. She moves towards my bed...and I just stare, unable to speak. I gather the blankets around me in a protective manner, and hope she'll stop where she is. But she doesn't stop, relentlessly invading my space until she is inches away from me, her breath warm on my chin and nose. Then she asks me, her voice barely above a whisper (but too intense for me just the same, reminding me of how my father often spoke to me), -Why have you given up on me, Fox?? Why haven't you found me? I'm so lost, and I miss Mom and Dad. When are you coming for me?- I choke back a sob, and answer as I always do. - I haven't given up Sam...I haven't. All I want to do is find you.- -But that isn't *all* you want to do, is it Fox? Is it, Mulder?- Angular into heart-shaped, earth into sky, despair into desire. She changes, and she's Scully. I close my eyes in confusion. When I open them again, she has somehow crawled into my lap! I have no idea how or when, and I start. I reach with my arms to push her off of me, but as I disentangle her from me, she grabs me by the wrist. -Answer my question Mulder, answer it.- I forget what she asked me, and again, I close my eyes to try to clear my head. When I open them again, to my chagrin, I have Diana sitting next to me. Even if this is a nightmare, it is too confusing for my sleepy mind to even try to work out, so I let her control the situation. -Fox, Honey, I know you trust me. If you want, we could get rid of that Dana woman, and work together again. Then no one would contradict you anymore, and you would truly have the X-Files back.- I flinch as if burned, and turn around to leave the room. There's a hissing noise. When I glance over my shoulder, I see a snake where Diana had been. I look back at the door. It is glowing around the edges, and although I wonder at the wisdom of choosing to leave this room (since I never have in the nightmare before), I do anyway, and I don't look back. In spite of my reservations, I step through the door, never looking back. ~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~! I have been wondering how to get rid of the blackness, the emptiness. It seems as if there is no way out of this dream. Maybe, I think morbidly, I'm dead, and this is what being dead feels like. No one and nothing to disturb your eternal *rest*. Just as I've begun to get used to the darkness, and have moved on to contemplating the meaning of life half-heartedly, a door opens, and the room is filled with light immediately. I look up. Who else? Mulder. ~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~! When I open the door, I expect to step into the hallway of my house, but instead I walk into a dark, empty room. I glance around it confused, wondering how in the Hell I got here, and why. Just as I have started to get used to the darkness, I hear someone crying. No, it couldn't be her..-Scully?-
As my eyes adjust, I see someone running towards me...and hear someone scream -MULDER!- Time slows down, and then I see her running towards me like they always did in the old movies, arms outstretched, tears running down her face. I suppose it has to be a dream, because Scully would never behave like this, at least never with me. Her arms surround me like a vise, and I am lost again. Lost in emotion, lost in unimaginable confusion and ecstasy all at once. For once, it's enough to just be with her, with no questions of how I got here, or how she got here. We've found each other, and I yearn to just stay in this position in this moment for -

~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!

....All time. I could stay with him forever. That is the one thought that keeps running through my head. It's this embrace,this idyllic moment that make 4 years of confusion and paranoia worth it. The smell of him, the feel of his arms, and the tears falling into my hair... It's too good, too real, and I know I am forgetting something. What it is escapes me for a few moments, moments which I gladly spend thinking absent-mindedly, trying to put a label to the way Mulder smells. A dream. It's a dream. I finally remember this...and my heart sinks. I don't want to wake up, but I don't want to torment myself any longer either. But suddenly, the dream fades away, and the mist clears as I open my eyes. ~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~! Scully pulls away from me, and disappears, all within the span of 5 seconds. I stand with my mouth open in shock, then remember that it's a dream. I sit down, still feeling the acute loss, and wipe my eyes. I realize that I have been crying. I feel a pull inside me to wake up, and do something about the situation. Why continue to live in dreams what I could possibly have in life? So I force myself awake, shaking off the strange dream. ~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~! An irritating buzz pulls me completely out of my reverie. Damn phone. It has to Be Mulder It's Always Mulder Oh God it's Mulder what'll I do? ~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~! -Hello? Hello, Scully?- Come on, answer me Scully! Her voice sounds choked when she says..-What Mulder? It's 4AM.- -I'm coming over, ok?- I don't sound as assured as I'd like to, but, oh well. I need the reassurance that she's alive and well, and it sounds like she needs it too. I hang up. ~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~! He hung up. He told me he was "Coming over"....and then he hung up on me! Something must have happened. I try to calm myself as I wait. After what seems like forever he walks in quietly. He would look confident to most, but I know that he's making the face he always makes when he's nervous. He can't fool me anymore. ~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~! The drive over was endless. I felt like I was reliving every nervous moment I have ever experienced while speeding down the dark, deserted highway. Standing outside the door to her room, I still don't exactly know why I am going to her, only that I feel like the dream was trying to tell me something. Maybe Scully can help me to understand. She's rational, and she understands the demons I face at night. During the day as well, for that matter. The dream was disturbing. When I had finally found the "real" Scully, she disappeared. Just when we were finally happy. I was beginning to figure something out. But before the last piece of the riddle had been revealed, she vanished. It wasn't like Scully; even though it was a dream, it made me wonder if she was in danger somehow. It also made me question what I was trying to accomplish in my relationship with her. Despite our "just friends" status, I toss enough innuendoes to make people think I'm som e tacky boyfriend of hers. But somehow I felt, in the dream, that I was so much more, so much better then all that. I was raw, naked. Like so many times before. I felt fear, compassion, loyalty, and love. Love.
Love for Scully is no surprise to me. To avoid a cliche, I won't say I loved her the moment we met. Because it simply isn't true.
When I first met her, I was so messed up, so wrapped up in my own problems, my concerns. When I saw her walk in for the first time, my first thought was, -How can I get rid of this woman in the fastest manner possible?- I was blind, and I am still blind. But now at least, my eyes allow me to see one thing: her. Because of her all encompassing spirit and light, she forces all other things out of the picture, save Samantha; never Samantha. Now that I think about it, the first time that I consciously allowed myself to think about her in that way was when Pfaster tried to kill her. She trusted me then, trusted me enough to know that I would comfort her, do my best to make her feel safe. I realised I wanted to do exactly that all of my life. I wanted to comfort her, laugh with her, kiss her, hug her; love, and be loved. While it might someday be possible for me to trust others, I know Scully will always be the one who holds me in her hands, trying to figure out how to heal the bleeding heart of a crazy, lonely man. She'll never realize that the cure is as simple as just that. She makes me feel life like no one else has, and I love her because there is simply no other option. Her fire consumes me, making me choose: to join her in what will most likely be the most exciting, powerful journey I'll ever be on; or to be left in the dust, with ashes for emotions. Scully is definitely capable of burning me, but we have both made our choices, and that is how we ended up here. I'm so caught up in my thoughts, my decisions, I hardly notice that I have arrived in the parking lot of the hospital. Still thinking, I exit the car absent-mindedly. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~* He should be here now, where is he? Ever since he called me, I've been worried about him. The dream I just had was disturbing enough. Then he calls me in the middle of the night, says something vague, and hangs up.
Has he gone off on some half-assed theory, and gotten himself in trouble again? Has he pissed off yet another department of the government?
Worst of all, what if he's just scared and lonely? What if he's had a nightmare, and isn't right in his head?
Well, I suppose then we'd be equal, because I'm not either, that's for sure. It's not like me to be so paranoid.
What's probably causing my paranoia is that damned dream. Mulder looked positively distraught. Usually, I don't go for believing so faithfully in dreams, but I do think that sometimes they tell us more about something that we're thinking about subconsciously. It's obvious that I'm worried about my future, which is shaky at best, non-existant realistically. That's clear because I could see the past. But my brain can't handle the future (or lack thereof). I got frantic, and needed someone to comfort me. Of course, Mulder came to my rescue. As much as I could never tell him, Mulder will always be my security blanket of comfort, because he comes to love me with no strings attached, without thinking first, "what's in it for me?" Mulder is like the love I get from my family, with substantial fringe benefits. So that explains why he came. I know that I love him, and that he would never hurt me at a time like that. But that doesn't explain why I woke up so worried about HIM. What I remember about the dream has started to fade, but I do remember him looking very worn out, very stressed, that is probably why. I was just frightened that something had happened. In any case, he said he would be over, and I'm sure he will come. When he's here, I hope to have the strength to talk to him about this. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ I burst into the room, forgetting to knock. My eyes drop immediately to a very frightened Scully. Did I scare her? Oh God if it wasn't me, who or what was it?
Rushing over to her side, I have the urge to gather her up in my arms. The overwhelming need to make whatever it is that bothers her right again. I ask simply, -What?- Her eyes rise to look at mine, immediately breaking my heart with the sorrow that rests in them. -I was worried that something had happened to you again Mulder. You called me in the middle of the night, sounding anxious and frightened. So many things could have happened to you, and I was so helpless to do anything. A million scenarios ran through my head. -You could have run off and found some new 'source', you could have been attacked by some 'aliens', you could have been mugged...- She counted the different scenarios off on her fingers like she had been thinking about this a lot. -I really wasn't sure what to think...But you're all right?- Knowing now that I've fucked up again, I nod. Bowing my head, I mumble -Yeah, Scully, I'm all right. Don't worry about me. I'm a *manly man,* I can survive anything. I look up at her and grin partially. With a wistful expression that I can't comprehend, she says -So it seems.- She pats her hand on her bed gently. I take this to mean that she wants me to sit with her, so I place myself tentatively on the edge of the bed. Now she laughs. -Who told you that I bite, Mulder?- -I can't tell Scully. If you find out who devulged the information, I know full well that he should fear for his life.- She laughs again. -Cut it out Mulder. Come sit with me.- I grin. Scooting over so that we are touching shoulders at the head of the bed, a wave of affection washes over me. I tousle her hair. She looks at me, I think astonished by this rare show of Mulder intimacy. -What was that for?- -Just reaching out to affirm that there's someone out there Scully.- -Oh Mulder. Is there something wrong? Why *did* you come over?- -I don't know. I had a nightmare. Usually when it happens, I just turn over. If you'd had nightmares regularly since you were 12, it wouldn't really be a big deal. But this time when I woke up I wasn't thinking straight. I was so confused, because you were in this dream, in this pitch dark room....- Scully gasps. I look at her, startled. -What?- Her face is pale, and she looks pretty unnerved. -Hold on, Mulder. In your dream, did you come in from another room? One with bright lights?- I nod, mute. -Were we...-, a short pause while Scully looks uncomfortable, - Did we hug in your dream?- I grin. Turning her towards me, I pull her into my arms. =96Like this?- A soft mumble from somewhere around my chest says, -Yes.- -Yeah, we did that. Didn't feel half as good as it does now, though. Accept no imitations Scully.- She laughs on me, and the sensation of rumbling feels nice. Growing serious again, Scully says =96What happened in the beginning of your dream?- I explain the entire dream to her. She holds me tighter when I get to the part about my sister. Then she erupts with bitter laughter when I tell her about her climbing into my lap, and about Diana. -She turned into a snake? Sounds about right to me.- -Scully!- I jab her playfully in the ribs. -What? The woman sounds like she's evle incarnate!- Again, Scully laughs, and I laugh too, just because it feels so good. -You know what Scully?- I say jovially. -What Mulder?- Good ol' Scully. Always playing my straight man. -I think I'm in love with a beautiful, smart, very funny redhead. Problem is, I don't know how to tell her.- -Hmm.- Crawling up to kiss me on the tip of my nose, she says coyly,-Well, the first thing I have to tell you Agent Mulder is that flattery will get you nowhere.- With that, she places a chaste kiss on my lips, that somehow seems anything but innocent. -Nowhere?-, I gasp. =96If this is 'nowhere,- than I'd have to say that it isn't half as bad as I have been lead to believe.- Leaning more into her arms, I kiss her again gently. -I really do love you though. Scully,- I make sure she is looking at me, -Really.- -I never doubted you Mulder,-she says, grabbing my hands and looking at me. =96But we've known for a long time now, haven't we?- I smile. -I suppose so.- -You know, Mulder..you're damn lucky I love you too, or you'd be getting shot right about now.- Ahhh. Music to my ears. -Aww Scully,- I drawl, - You're too good for me.- She whispers in my ear seductively, - And don't you forget it.- ~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~! This time, unlike many nights before, we don't sleep alone, physically or mentally. Although it isn't the peaceful, sleep- filled night that we both need, it is a night when neither of us are afraid to hold the other close in times of fear or passion. And although I'm sure neither of us know where our paths are heading, we know that we are not alone, and it gives both of us strength. Strength to go on, strength to love, and strength to believe. And this time when I look out my window, I see a bright,full moon, shining over both of us, and I no longer fear for tomorrow. That's it! I'm thinking of continuing, but I'm going to need some support! Let me know what YOU thought!