From dfaonxa@aol.com Fri Feb 07 00:19:56 1997
FEAR
by Julie John (DFaonxa@aol.com)

Spoilers:  This is a post-Leonard Betts story, and contains slight
spoilers for Neisi, as well.  Mentions of Irresistible and One Breath. 
Other than that, though, it's clean <g>.  

Category: angst/romance

Rating:  PG

Disclaimer:  Fox Mulder and Dana Scully belong legally to Chris
Carter, 1013 Productions, and FOX Broadcasting Network. 
However, I feel that they also belong to David Duchovny and
Gillian Anderson, who are so wonderful in bringing them to life
week after week for us.  Also, I believe that they also belong in
spirit to the fans, who really make their continued existence
possible!

Dedication:  To all my wonderful friends who have joined me in my
obsession over The X-Files and fanfiction:  Jen, Abby, Paula, and
Allison, in particular.  Thanks so much for being such great friends!

This is my first time posting a story, so any and all feedback (got
that?  Feedback, not flames!) will be treasured and replied to.  


******************
Dana Scully's Apartment
2:08am

	Dana Scully tossed and turned on her bed as hard coughs
racked her body.  It sounded bad and felt worse, and when the bout
was finished Scully rolled over and turned on her light.  As she
looked down at her pillow she saw two small, dark spots on the
white pillowcase.  With some trepidation she reached down and
touched one, then slowly lifted her fingers to reveal fresh blood on
them.  A wave of fear washed over her anew as she recalled
Leonard Betts' words to her in the ambulance: *You have
something that I need.*  That had frightened her, as the words of
the MUFON women came back to her memory.  Yet she was not
ready to accept the word of a man such as Betts as proof.  But this-
this was hard to deny.
	She got out of her bed and hurried into the bathroom,
flipping on the light.  She looked in the mirror and was horrified to
see blood dripping out her nose.  A wave of fear so great that she
was hard pressed to remember an equivalent washed over her as
another bout of coughs seized her.
	She straightened up and saw more blood on her reflection's
face.  That face was deathly pale with wide, terrified blue eyes. 
Scully had had many terrifying experiences in her partnership with
Mulder, but most had been so outrageous that to Scully they almost
weren't real.  Her experience with Donnie Pfaster had terrified her;
he was human with nothing more abnormal than a warped mind. 
Yet her abduction did not hold the same fear, because the whole
experience had a surreal quality, and to her scientific mind, was
frankly unbelievable.  Though her missing three months, Mulder
would be quick to point out, was all to real.
	Her encounter with Leonard Betts had been one of those
strange experiences which she found incredible.  She had seen the
man die; how then could he still be alive?  The entire experience
had unconsciously been filed in her mind as something she did not
accept.
	But cancer- cancer was something that she as a medical
doctor was forced to accept.  She had never given a tremendous
amount of thought to the possibility of her body being ravaged by
cancer; while after hearing the MUFON women she had been more
cautious, it was still one of those things she did not really accept as
a possibility.
	Yet here she was, standing in front of her mirror with blood
dripping our her nose after a coughing fit, mere hours after a man
with an acute ability to sense cancer had told her she was infected.  
	Scully turned from the mirror and rushed into her room,
where she blindly pulled on sweatpants and a sweatshirt.  Almost
unaware of what she was doing, she slipped on some shoes and
grabbed her keys, making her way out to her car.  All she knew was
that she had to see Mulder.

	As she parked in front of Mulder's building, she grabbed a
tissue to wipe the blood from her nose.  She had had to stop twice
on the way over because of the coughing.  A tiny part of her brain
wondered at the speed with which the symptoms had surfaced, but
the rest was too overcome to care.
	She practically ran to the elevator and hit the button to level
four.  The elevator creeped upwards, finally letting her off where
she wanted to be.  She quickly walked to Mulder's apartment and
stuck her key in the lock.  She didn't want to wait even for Mulder
to rouse himself from sleep or TV to answer the door.  All she
wanted was to see Mulder as quickly as she could.
	As she stepped in she saw Mulder sitting alert on the couch,
staring at the door with gun in hand.
	"Mulder, it's me,"  she said in a voice unlike her own.
	"Scully?"  Mulder asked.  "What are you doing here?"  He
flipped off the TV and turned on the light by the couch.
	Scully was suddenly too overcome to say anything; she just
walked toward him as if pulled by a magnet, stopping just short of
the sofa.
	As she stepped into the light, Mulder saw her ashen face
and frightened eyes.  Then he asked the question that he had
conspicuously avoided earlier that night.  "Scully, what's wrong?" 
His voice rang with alarm.
	Scully took in a shuddering breath.  Mulder rose and walked
over, placing a hand on her shoulder.  
	"You remember how we determined that Betts needed
cancer to survive?"  she asked in a thick voice.  At Mulder's silent
nod, she continued.  "When he attacked me in the ambulance
tonight, he told me I had something I needed."
	Mulder was horrified.  No wonder she had been so shaken
and vulnerable earlier.  And he had been foolish enough to believe
that the experience had been too intense for her and had praised her
for her efforts.  He opened his mouth to say something when Scully
spoke again.
	"Then, tonight, I woke up coughing.  I coughed up blood,
Mulder.  I coughed up blood and I'm so scared,"  her voice hitched
and she could no longer hold in the sobs.
	Mulder reached out and held her close as she cried into his
chest.  He stared down in shock at her red head as her tiny body
shook in his arms.  He reflexively rubbed her back in a comforting
motion, but stopped when the sobs gave way to coughs.  He
loosened his hold on her but did not release her as her body now
heaved and shook with coughs instead of cries.
	As Scully's body was once again overcome by the coughs,
she reflexively, automatically overpowered her fear.  She had
allowed it a release -and what more comforting a release was there
than Mulder's arms?- so now she put aside the fear and drew upon
her strength to deal with reality and think practically.  The fear was
still there, but it was no longer debilitating.  Now she could move
past it.
	When the coughs were finally still, she lifted her head and
Mulder saw the blood.  A wave of horror and panic even greater
then what he had felt in the wake of her abduction engulfed him as
he stared at her face.  His long fingers came up and danced around
her upper lip, just skirting the blood.
	"It's true, isn't it,"  he asked, his fear evident in his voice. 
Scully nodded.  "Oh, Scully,"  he whispered, face and voice drawn
with emotion, "Scully, I'm so sorry,"  his voice cracked.  Scully,
through her own tears, saw his eyes grow gray with pain and a tear
fall out of them.  She reached up a trembling hand to brush the tear
away.  "It's not your fault, Mulder,"  she assured him in a tremulous
voice.  "None of it ever was."
	Mulder's eyes shut and then he was crying, trembling on her
shoulder much as he had done when his mother was dying.  Now,
however, his cries were laced with fear, for Scully was everything
to him; she was life itself.  He knew all too well that he could not
live without her.  Yet she was much more than life; she was sanity,
reality, and the only source of love that he had in his life.  How he
treasured that love; she didn't know how much, and he doubted he
did, either.  And he had never told her.  How could he be so blind,
so hard, to not realize that she could be taken from him in a second,
and he would never be able to tell her?  Did it take this... this death
warrant for him to finally realize that life could pass in the span of a
breath, too short a time for regrets?
	"Scully,"  he said into her shoulder.  "Scully.  I love you so
much, and I never told you.  I'm so sorry, Scully.  I should have
told you sooner, I should have realized..."
	"Shh."  Scully said, lifting his head off her shoulder and
wiping his anguished, tear-streaked face.  Now that she had gotten
over the initial, all-too-human fear of her own death, she realized
what her death would do to Mulder.  She knew that she was what
had allowed him to get to where he was.  She knew, though she
would never admit it, that if it wasn't for her Mulder would have
lost his job a few years ago and his life not long after that.  Now,
instead of fearing her death for herself, she feared it for Mulder. 
She had always hoped and prayed that he would go first, that he
would never have to go through this.  Her life would be empty,
miserable without him, but she knew that she had the strength to
stay alive.  Not that she thought Mulder was weak; she secretly
regarded him as stronger than herself.  He had been through hell so
many times, yet had still managed to keep his sanity.  Not only was
he sane, but he was one of the most sensitive, empathetic human
beings she had ever had the privilege of meeting.  Yet every person
had a breaking point, and she feared that her death would be
Mulder's.  She didn't want Mulder's life to end with hers.  There
was still too much out there for him to find, for his will to live to
die with one person.  Indeed, there was far too much for any one or
two people to learn.  Yet she felt that Mulder could make a
difference- had already, even.  His life had revolved around his
search for the truth- it should end in the same pursuit, not one
fateful night after she had been buried when Mulder ate his gun. 
Specifically, Scully could think of no more fitting a death for her
partner than in his search for his sister.  Mulder, however, did not
feel that way, so she had to be strong for him, so that perhaps he
could go on, to die a noble death for a noble cause.  
	Yet right now, it was not so much death that was important,
but life.  Her life was suddenly made mortal.  She had known that
everyone dies, but now her lifespan had been defined, and it made
her even more aware of what she still wanted and needed to
accomplish in her life.
	She led Mulder a couple of steps to the couch, and they
both sank down, arms around each other.  "I love you, too, Mulder. 
More than you'll ever know."  She spoke softly in his ear, his head
once again on her shoulder.
	"I know,"  Mulder responded.  "I know.  And thank you so
much for your love.  It means so much to me, Scully.  That's what's
kept me alive, kept me sane.  I don't know how I could live without
you."  He clung to her, his strength, his sanity, his link to humanity
that suddenly seemed far more frail.
	Then Scully spoke, her voice steadied by a strength that
surprised him.  "You'll always have my love, Mulder.  That's
something that will never die.  No matter what happens, you can
always know that I love you.  It'll be all right, Mulder.  It'll be all
right."
	And suddenly, inexplicably, he knew that she was right.

The End.

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