From: Dana Scully Date: Wed, 21 Mar 2001 20:11:41 -0800 (PST) Subject: Just Walk Away, by Dana Katherine Scully Source: direct Title: Just Walk Away Author: Dana Katherine Scully Rated: PG-13 Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance, Future, Angst, Abduction, Celine Dion Spoilers: Fight the Future, Requiem, TINH, Milagro, Paper Hearts, "future episodes," both abduction arcs, some cancer stuff, etc. Description: In 2006, Mulder and Scully make some revelations with the help of a song. Disclaimer: The characters in this story are not mine....yada yada yada......don't sue me I'm broke....."Just Walk Away" belongs to Celine Dion....In short, the only thing i came up with was the plot! Archiving: Sure, fine, whatever. Feedback: PLEASE!!!!! This is my third fanfic and the lack of feedback on any of mine has become somewhat depressing. *My others are "I Love You, Goodbye," and "Waltz Jumps." "Just Walk Away" 42 Hegal Place Arlington Virginia 11:21 PM, Feb. 20, 2006 Fox Mulder rolled off of the couch and groped for the phone. Its insistent ringing was disturbing one of the few nights in the past year that he'd gotten any sleep. "Hello?" he mumbled groggily. "Agent Mulder, this is A.D. Skinner. I need to speak with you immediately." "What about?" Mulder asked, instantly awake. There was a pause. "Just meet me in my office." "I'll be there in ten minutes." J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building Washington, D.C. 11:35 PM, Feb. 20, 2006 Mulder shuffled down the hallway. When he received the call from Skinner, he had woken up significantly, but he was still feeling his exhaustion. His white "wife beater" and black jeans were certainly not work clothing, but he hadn't had time to find a clean shirt (a process which took at least 30 minutes in the morning: in broad daylight). When he reached Skinner's office, he saw the A.D. waiting in his secretary's now empty cubicle, pretending to shuffle through some papers. He had a compact disc in one hand, and in the other was a piece of FBI paper. He looked up and saw Mulder just as the younger man passed by the window. "Agent Mulder!" he called. Mulder dragged himself into the office, and sat heavily down on the couch. Pinching the bridge of his prominent nose, eyes heavily lidded, he mumbled, "This had better be good." Skinner regarded him with guarded anxiety. "Agent Scully has disappeared," he finally stated tersely. Mulder was instantly awake. "What?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He stood, preparing for action as soon as he received the details. "She disappeared from her home an hour ago. The neighbors reported a bright light and heard Agent Scully screaming. The woman across the hall--my mother--called the police." He took a deep breath, as if he wanted to say something. Mulder's jaw was clenched tightly. "Sir?" he growled. Skinner realized he wasn't going to get away with a lie by omission. "The implant was found in a pool of blood on her counter top, Agent." Mulder turned abruptly and began to walk away, but Skinner barked, "Mulder!" The younger man turned, and Skinner saw the full force of his anger and desperation in his eyes. "My niece gave me a CD the other day. It's her favorite singer, Celine Dion. My mother tells me that the first song was the last song Scully heard before her abduction." Mulder nearly laughed. Personally, he wanted to burn everything and anything Celine Dion in the world. "Don't worry sir, I'm sure it's not fatal," he quipped darkly. Skinner suddenly forcefully grabbed Mulder's arm. "As your superior I am ordering you to listen to track 1." Skinner saw Mulder's eyes asking *Why?* "It was the last song Agent Scully heard before her abduction," he repeated. Mulder's voice became dangerously low. "Sir, I don't have time for this crap." "Agent Mulder I believe you'll find the song an important piece of evidence. It provides some insight into her mind set." Mulder roughly pulled the CD from his hand and mockingly asked, "Anything else I can do for you?" Skinner nodded. "Yeah. Watch your ass." Mulder simply stared hard at Skinner for a moment, then turned and left. Georgetown, Maryland Dana Scully's Apartment Two hours earlier Dana Scully sat on her couch sobbing as the last few bars of "My Heart Will Go On" played, Titanic's credits rolling. Her mascara all down her face and chest, Scully got up and switched off the TV, pressing rewind on the VCR as she did so. God she loved that movie. Made her cry every time. And that song! Who was that singer? A knock came at her door, followed by an old woman's voice. "Miss Scully?" "Coming Mrs. Skinner!" she called. The old woman had been bothering her incessantly lately; she was a devoted classical music fan but also loved a famous pop singer....What was her name? Something Canadian...... "Miss Scully, I came to give you a CD by Celine!" Mrs. Skinner called. Celine Dion! That was it! "I'm coming, one second!" Scully called from the bathroom as she wiped the mascara off of her face. The last thing she wanted to listen to was Celine Dion! My God, if Mulder was correct the woman could blow your speakers off the wall with her screams! She had asked him if he meant Mariah Carey, but he had replied (in a mock-French accent of course) "No no Mademoiselle, I am certain it was Celine." The memory made her smile. Mrs. Skinner called again, "Miss Scully! It's that Titanic song! My granddaughter put it on a CD for me with some other rare Celine songs!" Celine Dion sang "My Heart Will Go On?!" Mulder was wrong?! Wow! She made a mental note to rub it in his face, then raced to the door. "I'm sorry Mrs. Skinner," she said as she opened the door. "I was just watching Titanic; I had to get the mascara off of my face." Scully grinned. "Makes me cry every time." Dana Scully had to admit she liked the old woman. She was quite a modern thinker for her time, and since Skinner was her son, it was kind of her obligation to be nice to the woman. Mrs. Skinner smiled secretly. "My granddaughter Melissa thought you might like these songs too." Scully's eyebrow shot up at the mention of her sister's name, but she said nothing. "Just like your sister I suppose," Mrs. Skinner said thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, she was born around the time Missy passed away..." Mrs. Skinner's voice trailed off when she realized that the younger woman in front of her was rather upset. "Oh well. Let's not dredge up the past." Scully nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. Skinner," she said, less warmly. "I'm sure I'll enjoy it." Mrs. Skinner smiled. "Dana, are you having some trouble at work?" she asked. Scully was startled. "No, why do you ask?" she questioned, almost as if it was a revelation. "Well, you seem distracted lately dear. Oh, I'm sure you and your partner are fine. My old eyes are probably seeing something that's not there. Oh well. Good night Dana dear." Mrs. Skinner patted Scully's shoulder, then hobbled back across the hallway. Scully just stood in the doorway for a moment, then thoughtfully closed the door and turned to go back inside. There, sitting on the couch, she could swear she saw Melissa. Her breath caught in her throat. "Missy?" she gasped. "Dana," the ghostly image mouthed. "Help me...." "Why? What is it Missy?" Scully asked aloud, panic taking control. Missy's ghostly manifestation whispered, "They're coming." Then she was gone. The lights in the room flickered back, and Scully let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Had that been real? Was Missy's ghost really sitting in her living room!? No, it wasn't possible. And yet, as Dana crossed the room and sank into Missy's seat, she could feel her sister's presence. She closed her eyes thoughtfully, then opened them and inserted the CD into the stereo, suddenly needing to hear something other than her own rapid breathing. A few dark cords played, and a haunting hum floated across the living room. "I know I've never loved this way before And no one else has loved me more With you I've laughed and cried I have lived and died What I wouldn't do Just to be with you "I know I must forget you to go on I can't hold back my tears too long Though life won't be the same I've got to take the blame And find the strength I need to let you go "Just walk away Just say goodbye Don't turn around now, you may see me cry I mustn't fall apart Or show my broken heart All the love I feel for you So walk away And close the door And let my life be as it was before I'll never never know, just how I let you go There's nothing left to say Just walk away "There'll never be moment I regret I've loved you since the day we met For all the love you gave And all the love we've made I know I've got to find the strength to say "Just walk away Just say goodbye Don't turn around now, you may see me cry I mustn't fall apart Or show my broken heart All the love I feel for you So walk away And close the door And let my life be as it was before And I'll never never know, just how I let you go There's nothing left to say Just walk away Oooohhhh ooowwww "Just walk away Just say goodbye Don't turn around now, you may see me cry I mustn't fall apart Or show my broken heart All the love I feel for you So walk away And close the door And as you leave, I know I love you more And I'll never never know just how I let you go There's nothing left to say Just walk away" For the first time in her life, Dana Scully was struck speechless. No complete thought ran through her mind; murmurs of the past rushing with amazing clarity behind her closed eyes. <"You should get as far away from me as you can..."> <"Maybe [the FBI] is right, Scully, but for all the wrong reasons. It's the personal costs that are too high."> She remembered the times Mulder had ditched her, running off to the far corners of the Earth. She remembered the women that had pulled them apart, injured them. The birth of their.... thing. His subsequent withdrawal and affair with that witch, Marita Covarrubius. After Charlie's death, Mulder's insensitivity. A whirlwind of incidents, occurrences, feelings, and comments he had made with his eyes; a tornado raging behind her closed eyelids. The times he had "protected" her by leaving her. Tears leaked out of her eyes and slid down her cheeks, as a little thought crept to the forefront of her mind: Georgetown, Maryland Dana Scully's Apartment 11:56 PM, Feb. 20, 2006 Fox Mulder stared down at the CD in his right hand, refusing to acknowledge the note in the other. The CD matched the one the A.D. had forced him to endure on the ride over. The first song, "Just Walk Away," shocked him into running a stop light. Why the hell was Scully listening to this? He listened to the lyrics the second time through. Although Skinner had seen it as evidence, Mulder had seen it only as severely depressing and hitting too close to home. How many times had he told Scully to "Just Walk Away?" Why did he ditch her anyway? Love? The song had forced him to reexamine his actions; his motives, and he didn't like it. He wanted to leave things the way they were; friendly, "partnerly" banter, each knowing the other threw glances and thoughts, but never straying over the line; never admitting feelings. They had already seen how that turned out. Why now? Why, when her life was in serious danger? Knowing that he would have to eventually face the music, Mulder grudgingly looked at the dreaded note in his hand. "Mulder- "I know I've never loved this way before And no one else has loved me more With you I've laughed and cried I have lived and died What I wouldn't do Just to be with you "I know I must forget you to go on I can't hold back my tears too long Though life won't be the same I've got to take the blame And find the strength I need to let you go "Just walk away Just say goodbye Don't turn around now, you may see me cry I mustn't fall apart Or show my broken heart All the love I feel for you So walk away And close the door And let my life be as it was before I'll never never know, just how I let you go There's nothing left to say Just walk away "There'll never be moment I regret I've loved you since the day we met For all the love you gave And all the love we've made I know I've got to find the strength to say "Just walk away Just say goodbye Don't turn around now, you may see me cry I mustn't fall apart Or show my broken heart All the love I feel for you So walk away And close the door And let my life be as it was before And I'll never never know, just how I let you go There's nothing left to say Just walk away "Just walk away Just say goodbye Don't turn around now, you may see me cry I mustn't fall apart Or show my broken heart All the love I feel for you So walk away And close the door And as you leave, I know I love you more And I'll never never know just how I let you go There's nothing left to say Just walk away After all these years I'll be the one to Just Walk Away. You follow your course to its bitter end; I have finished my part of the journey. I hope you recognize the meaning and motivation behind this last desperate act. Goodbye." -Dana Scully The note was splattered with tears drops, the handwriting shaky. Mulder was speechless. "Scully..." he whispered, not believing the scenario that immediately came to his trained mind. She had staged it, for what purpose he couldn't be sure, but she had staged her abduction. So what? So she could kill herself and make it seem like an abduction? Because he'd believe the abduction scenario anyway? Mulder shook his head, violently dislodging the images of his partner killing herself. He was convinced that she was too strong for that, but what about 2001? When she had finished the pregnancy, when she had born that...thing. She had never fully recovered from it; maybe....no, she would talk to him, right? His mind spun, the thoughts violently pounding through his brain. The consistent throbbing reminded him of her cancer, the headaches she had endured. The nosebleeds, the radiation. The pain, all because of him. The memories threw themselves at him, hitting his muddled brain with the force of a hurricane. Scully smiling at him when he returned from the Arctic, Scully kissing his brow in the hallway, Scully tousling his hair after the Roche case. Tears threatened to explode from behind his eyes, but he held them desperately at bay. Darkness began to close in. Scully in the hospital when her cancer relapsed, Scully lying in her own blood after having her heart almost literally torn out, Scully frozen in an ice pod in Antarctica, Scully struggling desperately to breath on several occasions. Scully lying half dead in his arms after being shot in the shoulder in 2003, after she confronted Krycek. He slammed the thought from his brain. He had more important things to worry about. Mulder furiously paced the room, trying to convince himself that she was abducted, knowing he was lying to himself. In the end, he simply ran like a bat out of hell from her apartment out to his car. He didn't make it more than a mile before he had to pull over and vomit violently on the side of the road, then collapse into hopeless tears. With THEM Time unknown Dana Scully opened her eyes slowly as the pain in her neck became obvious. Her head pounded violently, and the bright white light wasn't helping any. Thoughts of her last abduction began to force themselves to the forefront of her brain, and she sorted through them gingerly, cataloging them for future reference. Ever the analyst, her still-adjusting eyes roamed the medical facility she was in this time. The primal fear of other abductees' experiences was being consciously forced to the back of her mind so that her analytical left brain could take control. But why? She wasn't so happy about living anyway. Maybe her death would knock Mulder to his senses. Hey buddy-ole'-pal, do better next partner! She was tempted to let the fear overtake her and force them to kill her, but then what would be the point? He would wander around searching for her for months, then sadly decide she was dead and get on with life. If he SAW her die, however, or saw her dead, maybe she would catch a parting glimpse of the last lesson he had to learn from her. A.D. Skinner's Apartment 12:21 PM, Feb. 21, 2006 Skinner was pouring over evidence from the investigation into Scully's disappearance when he heard a knock on the door. "Who is it?" he called tersely. "Agent Mulder," he heard. Fox Mulder did not sound good. His voice had a definite defeated tone, and Skinner wasn't sure what to expect. As he opened the door, the Assistant Director had to stifle a gasp. Agent Mulder's clothes were covered in vomit, and his face seemed eighty years old, although Mulder had only just turned 45. "She's dead," he said flatly. The red bags under Mulder's eyes clued Skinner in as to Mulder's apparent distress. "Agent Mulder how did you get here?" Skinner asked, hoping to God the answer wasn't that he drove. Mulder simply stood in the hallway, shoulders slumping. After a moment the question registered, and he replied, "I got a mile away from her house, fell next to the road, and barfed my brains out. A police officer found me a few minutes ago, lying in my lunch." Skinner pulled Mulder inside and shut the door. "Agent Mulder, even if she is dead, which I doubt, this is not your fault," he began. "She could have..." "Yes, yes it is actually," Mulder interrupted. At Skinner's puzzled expression, Mulder pulled out Scully's note by way of explanation. "I found this in Her apartment." He simply could not find it in him to say his partner's name, it was just too hard. "She wrote this note just before....*it*.... happened." He handed the note to Skinner, who gave it a cursory glance. "Have you had the handwriting analyzed?" he asked. Mulder shook his head. "That's Her handwriting sir." Skinner finally looked up at Mulder. "Agent Mulder you need some sleep. I'll go over this evidence if you'll get some rest here," Skinner rumbled, indicating his leather living room sofa. "That's an order, Agent." A dozen snappy comebacks flashed through his mind, but he couldn't bring himself even to smile. He simply nodded and lay down on the sofa. He pretended to close his eyes and sleep, but who sleeps when part of them is dead? Skinner's Apartment Four hours later Mulder felt as if he'd been lying awake for hours. When he pretended to stretch and caught a glimpse of the time. Four hours wasted, he thought suddenly, sitting bolt upright. Four hours that could have been spent looking for Her. his little cynical voice snapped. "Since I realized she was far more," he whispered aloud, trying to quell his growing desperation. He knew this was what began Mulder-denial. He started acting as if everything was normal; that he didn't know for a fact that She was dead. He knew if he allowed himself, took the easy way out, he'd end up spending his entire life searching for a dead woman. Somehow he thought that didn't sound so bad, but Goddammit he'd find Her alive!!! Skinner looked over at the sound of the leather sofa creaking as his charge sat bolt upright and mumbled something to himself. He was about to ask him what, but he bit his tongue just in time. "Agent Mulder," he said instead. "You've been out for four hours now." Mulder looked at him as if he had two heads, but didn't questions Skinner's insinuation that he had wasted precious hours on the luxury of rest. He knew the older man felt that he would have to get over it. But how do you get over killing someone? How do you survive knowing that you were the reason another person took their own life? How many suicides had they investigated? How many times had he made sick jokes about it with Her? Is that how She remembered him? As a sick-joke cracking wise-ass with an oral fixation? He knew he could be self-deprecating, but he felt that She was perfectly justified in being disappointed with him. Why had She stayed with him? Why!? Why didn't She get out when he warned Her!? He felt the tears welling up, but shoved them down. Fox Mulder didn't cry. Fox Mulder retreated into himself and blamed it all on aliens. Fox Mulder was a failure. She was a saint, driven to self destruction by the ultimate devil. Skinner saw Mulder's desperate bout with despair written on his face, and he sympathized with the man. He had himself experienced the loss of a partner early in his FBI career. Agent Wollison was a good man, a wonderful agent, and a great shot. Agent Skinner had been a junior straight from the Academy. During a shoot-out, he had panicked and blown his and Wollison's cover by running desperately into the crossfire; trying to be a hero. All that happened was that Wollison was attacked from behind; a bullet through his head. Skinner had been the one charged with informing his wife and two young children. The A.D. shook the memory from his mind. He had been a young man accustomed to the army; people died and you just kept on shooting. The FBI was different; people died, people answered for it. He had been through severe disciplinary action, but since that day he had been the model of Bureau behavior, and he was quickly elevated to A.D. Mulder was neither well behaved, nor well disciplined. Yet he and Scully had the highest case resolution rate in the Bureau. Well, they did. From what Skinner could tell, the song had given her the idea for suicide. She had written the note and everything. Yet it didn't explain how she staged her own abduction, or why. And why was the implant torn out? Her cancer couldn't just suddenly kill her, and if it did she would have been in her apartment. But maybe she had wanted the cancer to relapse, in turn killing her. Where would she be hiding while it took its toll? The phone jarred him from his haze. "Skinner," he growled as he picked it up. "Mr. Skinner?" asked a woman's voice. She had obviously been crying. "Is Agent Mulder there? This is Margaret Scully." Skinner's voice softened. "Yes he's here Mrs. Scully. Hold on." He gently set the phone down and said, "Mulder, Mrs. Scully's on the phone. She wants to speak to you." Mulder nodded and picked up in the living room. "Mulder," he mumbled hopelessly. Skinner hung up his end, a concerned look on his face. "Fox this is Maggie. What happened to Dana?" she asked, fear and anger lacing her voice. He couldn't help it. He burst into tears, crying hopelessly. Skinner took the phone from him and told Mrs. Scully that Mulder would be at her place in about 30 minutes, where they could talk in person. White Place Time Unknown Dana Scully opened her eyes again to see the dreaded drill bearing down on her, and in the excruciating moment before the tearing pain, she fleetingly wished that she would have stayed unconscious. Mulder's voice said in it's characteristic monotone. The increasing bitterness of her thoughts about him frightened her even as they empowered her against her emotions, but empowerment would always win out. She felt the drill begin to tear through her soft palate, and she gave herself over to pain. Mrs. Scully's Apartment 5:32 PM, Feb. 21, 2006 Mulder hugged Mrs. Scully in order to support her, and by giving her his strength he kept his own emotions at bay. Skinner had forced Mulder to confront the older woman face to face, something he had been dreading for a long time. His partner had told him that her mother was beginning to show signs of Alzheimer's disease, but that she was being treated with the new drug available and her brain deterioration was severely reduced. But she still looked so much older than before. Charles Scully had been killed in the line of duty in 2004, during the war with Iraq. His young pregnant wife had committed suicide days later. Maggie Scully had been through so much in the past five years that Mulder found himself admiring the woman who he had been so wary of in the beginning. Bless her heart; she had been the mother he never really had, and he grudgingly had to admit that it was a comfort to him. But now he had taken another daughter from her. First Melissa, now Her. He hated himself; when he looked at his hands he saw them as tools of death and suffering. "I'm so sorry Mrs. Scully," Mulder whispered through his tears. "First Melissa, then....then Her," he managed. Mrs. Scully pulled away for a moment. She stared him straight in the eye and said, "Fox, I can't imagine anyone who did more for Dana than you. Did you ever see her face when you walked into a room? Her eyes lit up and she almost glowed. Even after..." she paused, looking for the words, then tried, "Even after your failed attempts at normal parenthood, she saw you and became a better person. Where ever you were concerned she made career-, even life- threatening decisions in a heartbeat to follow you. Don't you ever forget that, even if you never heard her say it. She loved you. She did. And I know you loved her, although you'll never admit it to yourself. Let go Fox." She sighed. "Just let go, for Dana's sake." Mulder appraised her slowly. "I can't Mrs. Scully. I can't live knowing that I killed Her. Knowing I did that to you, to Bill. It was my fault; She said so." He showed her the note, and Mrs. Scully read it resignedly. Her eyes still glistened with more unshed tears, but she brushed them aside. It did seem to her as if Dana blamed Fox for her distress, and that she did indeed kill herself. But something didn't add up. "Fox, if she killed herself, why would she remove the implant from her neck?" Mrs. Scully asked. Mulder sighed. "I've thought about it myself. It's a reminder of me; the problem. She wanted to rid herself of the problem." He paused, then a revelation struck him. "Unless she wanted the cancer to kill her," he whispered. "Unless she's still alive." The White Place When? Dana Scully opened her eyes as her nose began to bleed. She could feel the blood running down her cheek, but for some unknown reason it was dark now, as if someone had turned out the lights. For a moment Scully seriously believed that she had been blinded, but she could make out the outline of he equipment being used to test her, so at the worst she was only partially blind. she thought. She couldn't think straight; maybe they had given her something. She felt fuzzy, like she was on a sleeping drug. Her heavy lids finally closed, but not before her betraying sentimental side fleetingly whispered, She angrily pushed Mr. Rogers away, but she couldn't keep him down, and as she drifted off into drug induced "La-La Land," she saw images of Mulder in situations that never happened. Holding her, kissing her, loving her. And she cried. Georgetown, Maryland Dana Scully's Apartment 2:23 AM, Feb. 22, 2006 Mulder had fallen asleep on his Partner's couch many times during the last months of her pregnancy, but since then he had avoided Her home. It brought back too many memories. Yet now, he needed something tied to Her when she was alive and well. Her couch was a perfect comfort item, but he had not planned to indulge in the luxury of sleep, and now he found himself jolted awake because of his guilt. A whisper of his nightmare floated into the edges of his mind, but he couldn't grasp it. He felt Her all around him. She haunted this place, as a ghost haunts its old mansion, as he haunted Her. And She had left, as he ditched Her; without any warning or a thought for Her well-being. Could She have thought that he hated Her? Was he just trying to get Her away as far as She was concerned? No, She couldn't believe that. Yet everything pointed to Her thinking that way. Oh God; could he really have been that thick-skulled? He inhaled Her unique scent (spiced apples and red roses, he had always thought), and it filled his lungs with the closest thing to purity he had ever known. He whispered Her name, and it floated through the air; echoing through his head, through his heart. he prayed, as he knew she would pray to God. Scully had given him the gift of her name once again. He shook the echoes from his mind, trying to recall his reason for invading Scully's home. Ah yes, to find clues, Detective. Mrs. Scully's Home Maryland 11:21 PM, Feb. 22, 2006 Mrs. Scully rolled over in her feather bed. She had put herself to bed at 8 o'clock in hopes of catching up on some much-needed sleep, but that man.....oh what was his name!!? She hated her Alzheimer's disease, even though Dana had told her that it was progressing far slower with the drugs, and that it had been slow to accelerate anyway, but Maggie still had trouble remembering things. Skinner, that was his name! Mr. Walter Skinner. Dana's boss. Dana. Dana was missing again, and again she'd had a ridiculous dream about her disappearing. Funny; mother's intuition. She had also had a bizarre dream about Missy this past night as well, come to think of it. Something about Missy's long-lost daughter or something. Maggie wasn't sure what it meant, but it had frightened her. Missy had been giving birth, but she never saw the child to whom she was giving life. As soon as it was born, the doctors had whisked it away, and Missy had cried heavily while Mrs. Scully held her hand tightly. She couldn't recall if Missy had ever gotten the baby back in the dream, but it was odd. Especially since she had never known Missy to be pregnant. Mrs. Scully's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone breathing heavily. She rolled over, and saw Walter Skinner standing by her bed, a strange expression on his normally stony face. "Mr. Skinner? Is everything alright?" she asked, clutching the blankets to her chest. She may have been old and wrinkly but she would NOT allow another man to see any exposed flesh on her body unless he earned it. Skinner visibly shook his head distractedly, then said, "Yes Mrs. Scully, everything's fine." He then quickly left the room, leaving Mrs. Scully to wonder about the purpose of his visit. White Place Time Unknown Dana Scully opened her eyes once again to unbearable pain and piercing light. The pain overwhelmed her in its intensity, and the first thing she screamed (without thinking) was, "MULDER!!!!!!!!!!!!" Georgetown, Maryland Dana Scully's Apartment 12:43 AM, Feb. 23, 2006 Mulder had searched the entire house for evidence of where Scully might go to let her cancer kill her. In the end, all he found was an invitation to her godson's high school graduation. he thought. he thought, before he remembered their attempts at having their own brood. She supposedly couldn't conceive, but when he had recovered from his abduction and subsequent....illness, in 2001, Scully had been seven months pregnant, with what they both knew was his child. But when it was born, it was not any normal human baby. Her despair tore his heart out, and he started to blame himself. He had convinced himself that she did too, and had an almost one-sided conversation with her before he went off and did the stupidest thing in his life. He slept with Covarrubius. Marita was killed a week later; he didn't care. Scully got a mild cold that day; Mulder waited on her hand and foot. The tiniest sneeze prompted him to wring his hands and rush for Kleenex. It was amazing what Scully had been able to do to him. He had thought he knew her so well, but recent events had shed light on a side Mulder had always avoided: her weaknesses, which apparently included a fear of being protected by anyone. But maybe her suicide had another motivation. Maybe she was pregnant again. Maybe she was hopelessly convinced that he would never stop ditching her. He didn't know what had motivated Scully to do something this horrible to herself. After 13 years of hell with him, maybe she had just decided she didn't want to live anymore. Maybe (God no) she had wanted to teach him a lesson about what his self- centeredness could do to people he considered close to him. But no, Scully would have talked to him right? Not killed herself. That just didn't seem like Scully. But then again, that case this year, when Scully had actually broken down over a mother's distress....that had been a sight Mulder never expected to see. They had questioned the mother of a young boy who had mysteriously disappeared in connection with a man who called himself "Hannibal the Cannibal," after the killer in "The Silence of the Lambs." Scully had been rather upset by the case in the first place, but that interview marked the first time Mulder had seen Scully really cry. As soon as they had returned to the hotel, and Mulder had taken a shower, he heard Scully in the room beside him. It sounded at first like she was struggling to breath, so he immediately rushed into her room. But she was only crying; crying harder than he had ever seen anyone cry. She couldn't speak at all, and her eyes were swollen shut. What had really panicked him was her gun. It was resting next to her on the bedside table, and she kept looking longingly over at it. Mulder had brought her a tissue and a glass of water, but all she had done was cling to him, wetting his gray shirt with her tears. Afterwards he had asked her about it, and she had sadly replied, "Because I have lost two children. Because I have held those tears inside of me for eight years. They couldn't stay any longer." Suddenly, he realized that today was her birthday. She would have turned 42 today. Somehow the thought of Scully in her early 40s saddened him. She had been 29 when she was first assigned to him. 29. And now she was 42. 13 years of her life had been spent being dragged all over the world with him. The 13 good years too. He wasn't a fool; he knew that she would likely never have children, especially at her age. He also knew that she would never again acknowledge the bond they shared. It had been 2001, five years ago, when she had last affirmed their bond. Right before she went into labor that year, she had awoken in the middle of the night from a nightmare. He had immediately woken up himself, and asked her about it. She had said, "Mulder I don't remember a word of the dream. I only remember that you were there, and the bond we share helped me to cope." He still remembered the smile she had given him. Radiantly, happily she grinned at him, and then her water broke. It was the last such smile he had seen from her. Washington, D.C. Lincoln Memorial 12:48 AM, Feb. 23, 2006 Dana Scully woke up dazed and cold. She was lying on a stone surface, and she vaguely recognized that it was sculpted. Her neck seemed healed, and her headache had vanished. They had seen fit to outfit her in a long white nightgown with a low peasant neck, something she thought must have come from K Mart. Pushing herself up on one arm, she felt how tense and strained her muscles were. She must have put up quite a fight. The roof of her mouth felt very tender, but she seemed otherwise unharmed. She had some stomach cramping, but nothing other than ovulation cramps. she thought skeptically. Yet it didn't feel like it. The thought briefly crossed her mind that they had repaired her ovaries, but it wasn't possible. Mulder had found her ova; they were not viable. It simply wasn't possible that They could repair them. And for what purpose? If her abduction had fitted the emerging pattern, she would be dead right now. Why was she alive? What did They want her to do? So many questions raced through her mind that she couldn't think straight. But finally the need for water overcame all else and she attempted to stand. Her shaky limbs finally succeeded in lifting her from the ground, but a new problem soon presented itself. She looked up and saw the stern face of President Lincoln staring out at the Washington Memorial, and she realized that she was currently standing atop a very important part of Mr. Lincoln's anatomy. Stepping gingerly aside, Scully looked around at the artificially lit panorama that had been her home for the past eighteen years now. The sight both encouraged and depressed her. Thirteen of those eighteen years had been spent with Mulder. Thirteen tumultuous years, full of death, suffering, kidnapping. Thirteen years of hidden affection, electric touches, ultimate trust, teasing innuendoes, moments when the world around them vanished. she thought, as she climbed down from the sculpture and started home. Dana Scully's Apartment Georgetown, Maryland 2:56 AM, Feb. 23, 2006 Sitting outside on the bench in front of her apartment, Scully couldn't bring herself to go inside yet. She knew Mulder was up in her apartment, the light was on and no one else had a key. She wondered what he was doing there. Probably investigating her "suicide." She nearly laughed; the morbidity of the situation keeping her from chuckling. She hadn't even really considered doing it in the first place. Well, that wasn't true. She had seriously considered it for a moment, but when she realized that the purpose of her desperation was to teach him a lesson, she had simply wanted to write a cryptic note and disappear for a while. Her mind replayed the terrifying events that ensued after she finished the note. The bright white light she had come to recognize as alien had suddenly illuminated the living room. She had tried to run, but in the end, all that had ended up getting her was another scar on the back of her neck. The creature holding her had tried to surgically remove the implant from her neck on the scene, but her thrashing and yelling had forced it to simply rip at the skin. She winced as she remembered the not-so-distant pain in the back of her neck. The implant was left in a pool of blood on her counter top. After she had been drawn onto the ship, her memories became vague. All she recalled was knowing that her cancer would be back without the implant, and it had frightened her to no end. And because of her staged suicide, she knew Mulder's support would be hard to get until she seemed fatally ill. Maybe he wouldn't even want to support her anymore. The thought filled her with a strange sense of impending doom, because the thing that frightened her the most was losing him. Her little lesson hadn't (she suspected) worked out the way she'd wanted it to. She had been taken before she could leave him a clue as to her whereabouts, her abduction a fact most certainly exaggerated to no end by her elderly neighbors. (The elderly [deaf] were the only people living near her anymore because all the strange and unexplainable things you couldn't imagine seemed to happen somewhere in the vicinity of Dana Scully.) Mulder was most certainly going to explode at her, and her mother! My God, her mother would die of shock. She knew somehow that Mulder had already spoken to her about the "incident." She hoped that her return wouldn't be too bad for her ailing mother, but she couldn't be sure. Sighing heavily and bracing herself, Scully proceeded into her building and ascended the stairs towards the most emotionally loaded confrontation the world will likely ever know. Maggie Scully's House Maryland 3:02 AM, Feb. 23, 2006 Maggie Scully sat bolt upright in bed, eyes clouded in a nightmare haze. From a chair across the room, Skinner's voice asked, "Mrs. Scully? Mrs. Scully are you alright?" Her eyes cleared, and when Skinner's question registered she replied, "I'm sorry, I had a bad dream." Skinner remembered the last time he'd heard that phrase. It was 2001. Mulder had been missing for almost a year. They had found some disturbing evidence in Montana, God was that a horrible case. It had been the first time he'd heard what he felt was a vocal expression of their love. <"It won't die that light. Maybe that's the only thing that never does. [Mulder] said that's where souls reside. I hope he's right."> Skinner vividly remembered the sheer terror and sorrow on Agent Scully's face. She had always held up a strong facade, even with Mulder (usually.) Skinner had known that he was witnessing the beginning of a deeper relationship between Mulder and Scully. He didn't understand how he had known that Mulder would be O.K. He just knew, the same knowing that kept him at Mrs. Scully's bedside. Watching the mother of his prized Agent sleep actually gave Skinner a sense of peace. His days at the Bureau were growing short; he was sixty-two, and planned on retiring and spending the rest of his life investing. But Mrs. Scully, herself only sixty-six, gave him something besides dentures to look forward to. He knew that she was comforted by his presence, but hell, he needed to get to know her outside of Dana's work. Then he would come a decision. "It's alright Mrs. Scully, I'm here now," he replied, voice barely above a whisper. Mrs. Scully looked expectantly at Skinner. When he said nothing more, she closed her eyes for a moment, then settled back against the pillows, butterflies filling her stomach. Walter Skinner had first come into her life when Melissa was dying. At first, Maggie had hated him, because he hadn't told her why Dana couldn't be there. But the man's bravery and assurance helped her through Missy's death in place of her daughter, and while nothing could replace Dana, Skinner had been an adequate substitute. They had shared some things at that time of her life that they had both agreed to forget. Feelings, not about each other but feelings for lost spouses, and lost children. Skinner's daughter had been involved in a fatal car accident at the age of five. Missy had just been shot. Mrs. Scully felt like she was again on a first date. She had loved Bill more than life itself, but she knew it was time to move on. 13 years was a long time, time that she had spent thinking about Bill Sr., crying for him, loving him. She'd never stop loving him, but perhaps she could love this man in a different way. Oh well. It was too late at night for such heady thought. Mrs. Scully curled up under the covers, and was soon asleep. Dana Scully's Apartment Georgetown, Maryland 3:01 AM, Feb. 23, 2006 Mulder heard the knock on the door and called out, "Who is it?" He expected Skinner, but he couldn't be sure. His gun leading, he moved to the door and peeked through the peephole at the same time as Scully replied, "Mulder it's me." The gun clattered to the floor as Mulder swung the door open. "Scully," he breathed, wondering if he was dreaming. His head screamed that it was impossible, that she was dead. And then another voice told him to get her the hell away from him before he hurt her again. Scully nodded, mute. Her throat was clenched shut, tears threatening to spill over. Her thoughts were muddled and incoherent. She felt her anger at him rising under her relief, and she tried to repress it. Mulder simply stood there for a moment, then invited her in. She stepped across the threshold, the whole thing seeming surreal. Her legs still hurt, and the emotions filling her weren't exactly helping. She sat down on the couch, never once meeting her partner's eyes. She knew that connecting in that most intimate way would surely send her into an emotional frenzy. Mulder wasn't sure how to approach her. She seemed beside herself, but his anger at her prevented him from trying to comfort her. That anger finally won out. "Why?" he asked simply. Scully cringed at his question, and her jaw clenched tightly. "Why what Mulder," she managed, although she knew very well what she was talking about. "Why stage a suicide?" he asked coldly, cutting right down to the chase. Her eyes closed to prevent any tears from escaping. Eyes still shut, she responded, "Because I was tired of being ditched, Mulder." Regaining her composure, she stood and crossed to him. "Because you never once stopped to think that by putting yourself in danger, you put me in danger as well." She stood and turned to face him, their eyes meeting. Scully felt the room explode around them at the connection. The battle of iron wills had begun. Mulder snapped, "How, Scully? How am I putting you in danger? Goddammit Scully I'm protecting you!" "And that's precisely what I don't need Mulder!" she bit back. "I'm not some fragile female heroine in a movie. I'm your partner, and I have been through everything that you have in the past thirteen years. I do not want to be treated as a weakling!" Mulder took a menacing step closer to his partner, locked in a stare down. "Scully you have NO IDEA what I have been through," he shouted, finally losing control. "I WATCHED YOU DYING!!!! I SAW YOUR SOUL LEAVE YOUR BODY!! For God's sake Scully, five years ago you gave life to an alien child and you have never recovered! You think I am immune to that pain? The baby you hoped you carried, I wanted it just as badly as you; more even. And you just withdrew from me afterwards!" He knew that wasn't entirely accurate; he withdrew from her just as completely, but his sense of his partner was being called into question, and he didn't like it. "Do you know what that's like Scully? To watch the only thing keeping you sane retreat into herself and simply never come out?" Scully's lip trembled, but she managed, "Yes I have Mulder. Every single goddamn time you ditched me and nearly got yourself killed. Every single time!!!" Her heart was wrenched by both of their bitter words, but the little voice in her head telling her to give it up was lost in the tornado of her rage. Mulder started to pace furiously. "Scully you can't do that kind of thing to people! You can't fake your own death and expect me to simply run back into your arms!" "You think I expected you to run back into my arms Mulder?" she asked, voice dangerously quiet. "You think I expected to be abducted?" Her voice rose. "You think I planned this?" Mulder recognized that tone. That tone was the last few ticks before the bomb went off. "Scully you pretended to kill yourself!" he exploded. "You wrote me a note telling me you were walking away! What am I supposed to do?" "Think Mulder!" she fumed. "Think! Why? Why would I have done something like that. Could it possibly be because of YOU!?" Mulder stared right back at her and bit out, "Scully, I have always blamed myself for all of the things you do to yourself. Everything that happens you is directly connected to me. You think knowing that has had no effect on me?" Scully dropped her head, her eyes studying the floor. She started to respond, but Mulder was already talking. "I'm sorry Scully, but you do not have the right to hurt any of us like that. Think about your mother, Scully. She's beside herself right now. Skinner's taking care of her for God's sake. What did you possibly hope to accomplish?" Scully looked back at him, and Mulder saw all the layers of steel he had broken through for thirteen years closing up again. "Go home Mulder," she whispered. He nodded, still seething, and replied, "Scully, you shut me out now and I'm out for good." His tone warned that he was serious, but Scully wouldn't have any of it. She nodded. "Just walk away Mulder." Mulder stared directly into her eyes, and whispered, "I may not see you, but I know you will cry." The door slammed, and the reference to the song had Scully desperately holding her tears at bay. She went into the kitchen and made some tea. When she had finished her tea, Scully went into her bedroom to get dressed for bed. She let the white nightgown slip off of her body, and the night chill immediately affected her. As much as she wanted to put something on, she let the cold instill a sense of control into her again. As she slipped under the covers and turned out the light the tears started, spilling onto the pillow. But she only allowed herself to cry for a second. She needed to keep her head about her; breaking down now would NOT be productive. She sat up on one elbow, picked up the phone as she checked the clock (3:41 AM), and dialed her mother's. Mrs. Scully's House Maryland 3:22 AM, Feb. 23, 2006 The pounding on the door seemed to Skinner to be the pounding of a madman, and he immediately knew who it was. He rushed to the door and threw it open, admitting none other than Fox Mulder. His face was streaked with dirt and tears, and his eyes seemed wild and hopeless at the same time. "She's back," was all he managed. Skinner's eyes widened, but he let Mulder into the house. Mrs. Scully was awake by then, and came into the hallway to see Mulder. "Fox what is it?" Mulder's eyes filled, and he whispered, "She's back Mrs. Scully." "Oh my God," the older woman gasped. "Where is she, Fox?" she asked urgently. "Her apartment," he choked out. Mrs. Scully desperately wanted to see her daughter, but Fox needed more immediate attention. She walked over to him and put a supporting hand on his back. "Let's get you cleaned up," she said, her voice the lilting voice of a mother whose son had a scraped knee in need of disinfectant. She led him to the bathroom, where she wet a towel and wiped the dirt and tears from his face. "Fox, are you alright?" she asked him as she washed his face tenderly. He nodded. Mrs. Scully wasn't convinced. She tried a different approach. "You and Dana have worked together for thirteen years. In those years I know that you've had your share of good and bad times, but Fox, if you give her up now it will all have been for nothing. Because the past thirteen years have not, at the heart, been about aliens and the paranormal. It's been about the both of you. Don't lose that now." Mulder looked over at her, his expressive eyes pleading for further elaboration. Mrs. Scully lead him to her guest room and sat him down on the edge of the bed. She sat down next to him when he put his head in his hands. "Fox, you and Dana have been in love for thirteen years. When Dana finished that pregnancy, you withdrew from each other. Reconnect with her Fox; she needs you desperately." She pulled a reluctant Fox into a motherly hug, and he couldn't hold back his tears any longer. For the first time, he cried in front of his direct superior, and in front of his partner's mother. More importantly, he admitted to himself that he was crying, and willingly let it continue. God knew he needed it. Twenty minutes later When the phone rang, Mrs. Scully rushed to answer it before it woke Fox. He had fallen asleep in the guest room, and she wanted to keep him that way. His tears had given her an opportunity to rethink her earlier plans to rush to her daughter, and she decided that Dana would contact her when she was ready to be seen. "Hello?" she said quietly. "Mom?" a teary voice said. "Dana," Mrs. Scully sighed, coming close to breaking down herself. "Are you O.K.?" Dana sighed tearfully. "Oh Mom," she said. "I made a terrible mistake. And this time *you'll* be ashamed of me." Knowingly, Mrs. Scully replied, "Fox thinks so too, Dana." Scully pressed her lips together and tried to keep her voice steady. "Mulder's spoken to you?" she asked hopefully. "He's asleep, Dana; in my guest room. Mr. Skinner is here too." Mrs. Scully smiled secretively. "Your boss has been quite a comfort." Scully quickly made a decision. "I'm coming over there Mom." Mrs. Scully whispered, "Take your time Dana. Fox knows you need each other." Before her daughter could reply, Mrs. Scully gently replaced the phone in its cradle. Dana's Apartment..... On the other end of the line, Dana Scully was shocked. Even after she heard the click of her mother disconnecting, her mouth tried to form a response. But how could she refute something so true? Truth was the one thing she cherished, yet she and Mulder had spent years avoiding that one truth which so affected both of their lives. She knew he needed her, and yet she denied herself to him. She kept feelings, opinions, ideas all hidden from him. And what about him? She didn't like to admit it but she now realized she did need him as well. When he hadn't tried to comfort her by holding her during their fight, her heart was torn out and trampled. She covered it like she always had; with cold steel, harsh words concealing a fragile interior. After her ordeal, she wanted desperately to be held, but she and Mulder both reacted badly to the situation. They had seen but not acknowledged the other' pain, and it had proved a nearly fatal mistake. She silently promised herself to apologize to him when she saw him. Rolling out of bed, she slipped into a pair of jeans and a cashmere sweater. After putting some things in an overnight bag, Scully left her building and got into her car. As she drove to her mother's home, she nibbled on her lip distractedly, until it was so dry she was forced to put Vaseline on it. It only took a few minutes to get to her mother's house, but in that time Scully convinced herself that she had some resemblance of composure. As she climbed the stairs to the front door of her destination, Dana Scully thought she was completely in control. Her mother opened the door, and Scully knew she was wrong. "Dana!" her mother cried, hugging her daughter tightly to her. Dana clutched her mother fiercely, stifling a sob. "Hi Mum," she managed. Her mother pulled away, saying, "Dana don't ever do that to me again." Her eyes searched her daughter's face, and she saw there her sorrow and confusion; the same sorrow and confusion Dana had tried to hide behind steel walls. "Oh Mum. I'm so sorry. I never thought it would come to this." She searched her mother's face for understanding, but her mother couldn't hide her question. *Why?* Before Scully could say anything more however, Mulder emerged in the doorway. Scully simply stared into his eyes, trying desperately to convey her apology. But he needed to hear it aloud before he could truly know, and she sensed that. "Can I talk to you?" she asked tentatively. Mrs. Scully slipped discreetly back into the house and took Skinner into the kitchen; out of earshot. Mulder nodded and stepped aside to admit her. She gingerly stepped inside, but her legs were shaking so much that she fell against him inadvertently. Mulder put his arms around her, at first to support her, but kept them there long after she had regained her balance. So they simply stood there, Mulder looking down at her copper-toned hair, and Scully with her eyes closed, trying to calm her breathing and the fluttering in her stomach while reveling in the feeling of his body against her back. Scully began to feel rather uncomfortable; with Skinner standing in the room next to them and Mulder's refusal to let go. "Mulder," she started, trying to step away. He let her pull away from his body and turn around, but his arms still encircled her waist. She tried gently putting them back at his side, but he would have none of it. Finally she sighed and said, "Mulder, I'm sorry about what I did to you. I wasn't thinking; I was feeling. I was angry at you, yes, but for choices you made in the past." Scully continued into a well-prepared speech, but Mulder put his fingers to her lips, which abruptly stopped her. "Scully, I should apologize to you. I know what it feels like to lose you, or for you to do something without telling me. I hated your doing that, and yet I justified my own leaving by saying I was protecting you." He shrugged, then smiled wanly and added in a whisper, "I couldn't accept that I was the wimpy one." He had come closer and closer to her during his own little speech, and now their faces were only inches apart. Scully's breath quickened, and her pulse speeded up. All she could hear was the sound of Mulder's own quickened breath, and her pulse pounding in her head. she thought. The thought made her wary even as it elated her. she kept thinking. Finally, the message got to her mouth, and she whispered, "Mulder, Skinner and my mother are in the other room, and I don't think we should..." Mulder nodded, obviously frustrated. He immediately turned away and walked briskly into the house. Scully breathed a sigh of relief. Another Scully-loses-control situation averted. Yet she was upset that it hadn't happened. Her logical mind told her that it was wrong, and even dangerous, because she knew once it happened it couldn't be stopped. But her heart screamed at her, berated her to no end. Now she was sure that they would never again feel that love that once burned so brightly. In 2001, when he was returned, supposedly dead, in a field in Montana, she knew the moment she saw his cold body on the ground that she would never love another. When he had recovered, they had ended up in his apartment. There, they had made love for the first and last time. But they never said "I love you." Never admitted what the physical act said. And now she regretted it; she didn't have that leverage, she couldn't tell him that it was still true, because she had never admitted it to herself either. Frustrated over this latest turn of events, Scully turned and walked inside herself, legs no longer shaking. Mulder felt like his heart had been ripped out and stomped on. He wanted so desperately for her to just give up her defenses; admit how they felt. But he couldn't just make her; he knew she had to figure it out on her own. Mrs. Scully's House Maryland 5:32 AM, Feb. 23, 2006 The night passed quickly. Mulder slept on the couch while Scully took up residence in the guest bedroom. She and her mother talked for hours that night. Many times, Mulder heard one or both of them crying. But he also heard some laughter, and was genuinely happy for Mrs. Scully that her Dana was coming back to her, especially since he knew it would take much longer for him to get Scully back. Well, maybe not, but it would require a lot of effort on both of their parts to get back on a comfortable level. At that moment, he realized that he had never (really) told her he loved her. There was that time in the hospital, but she didn't believe him; he was really drugged up. He had never admitted the emotion that went along with the physical act. The knowledge saddened him. Thirteen years of loving each other; thirteen years of trust. And they couldn't even get up the courage to lay their feelings out for each other. There had always been a bigger truth, there had always been the Bureau. There was always something they could use as an excuse, some little complication that prevented them from being completely honest. He had lived on fantasies about them saying the three words he loved the most, but never had they been realized. And she wasn't the only one not willing to admit it. Mulder knew that They would use it against them; to tear them apart and destroy them. But without the admission, they would fall apart anyway. And neither of them were getting any younger. He would turn 46 in October, and God, today Scully turned 42 at 4:27 PM. They were truly middle-aged now. It was disturbing; when his own mother was 46, he was in his third year at Oxford. He wanted to have a child with Scully, he wanted to be a Dad. It had sounded cliche to him years ago, but now he wanted to have the satisfaction of knowing he could make a difference in a child's life. And not just save them from a serial killer. He wanted to raise them, with Scully. He sighed. He needed sleep; Scully and her mother had retired nearly an hour ago, and Skinner had been snoring in Mrs. Scully's room since 4 AM. When he woke up, he decided, he would run down to the local bakery and get Scully a chocolate cake. He smiled. The thought of Scully with chocolate cake all around her mouth was very amusing, and somewhat endearing. It was with that final thought that he slept. New York City Alex Krycek turned to the older man, the bullet scar near his temple painfully apparent. He saw the older man wince and for the millionth time since his confrontation with Scully in 2003 he thought, . Krycek had threatened Scully because she and Mulder were very close to discovering how Scully's fertility could be restored, an occurrence which would have been disastrous for the continuation of the Project. Her fertility had to be restored at the right time, so that any children she might have would be young enough to receive the altered variola vaccine: the new way that people were being tagged. "And Agent Scully had been restored to health?" the older man asked, his eyes skeptical. Krycek nodded. "Yeah, our mutual friends did some internal reconstruction. She's fine." "Good. Then we must make the necessary preparations. You will see to it that these measures are taken." Mrs. Scully's House Maryland 8:54 AM Feb. 23, 2006 Fox Mulder tossed and turned on the couch, his nightmare surrounding him completely. "No, Scully no, no don't NO!!!" Scully immediately rushed in from the kitchen, saw Mulder thrashing, and knelt in front of the couch. "Mulder," she said, not so loud as to startle him. When he continued thrashing and calling for her, she said his name louder. "Mulder!" His hazel eyes opened, but she could see he was still in the throes of his nightmare. "Mulder I'm right here," she tried, her voice slightly louder than usual. His eyes slowly focused on her, and then he fell back against the cushions. "Scully," he whispered, eyes shut tightly. "Shhhh," she whispered, stroking his hair. "It's okay Mulder, I'm here." He relaxed as the gentle stroking motion of her hand continued. His eyes closed, but before he drifted sleepily off, he whispered, "Happy Birthday, Scully." Scully smiled at him to comfort him, and his eyes sleepily closed once again. she thought suddenly. For God's sake *she* hadn't remembered her birthday! Wow. she thought suddenly. The thought brought tears to her eyes. So much of their innocence, lost. Her faith in God, his hope of redeeming himself in the eyes of his family. They had blown away on the winds of truth long ago. Now all that they had left was what they had wanted originally, but now could not live with: the truth. Yes, there was a conspiracy; yes, it was to cover up the existence of extraterrestrials; yes, Mulder's father had been involved; yes, Samantha was dead; yes, Scully was barren because of the tests that were performed on her. No, her God seemed not to exist. Then a realization hit her. Of all the things taken from them, nothing had been as painful as knowing that Mulder would soon be taken from her as well, if she didn't act. After everything they'd lost, all they had was each other. Her eyes began to tear once again, and this time she let them flow, because she knew that if she denied their love any longer, it would consume them from the inside. The words "I love you," had never come easy to her. Even as a child, she had told her parents she "cared for them deeply." Only once did she say she loved them. Now, she was accustomed to telling her mom she loved her; her father's death had seen to that, but with men she never said "I love you." It was, in her book, taboo; not admissible by the rules of evidence. She didn't believe in emotions that overtook the mind and logic, but with Mulder that had all crumbled to the ground. Her walls, her beliefs; challenged again and again by his loyalty and devotion to both her and the X-Files. As she laid her head down on his chest, still shaking with tears, Mulder awoke. He sleepily regarded Scully, but the realization that she was crying jolted him awake. "Scully?" he asked worriedly, craning his neck to see her face. She looked up at him, blue eyes begging for forgiveness. Her mouth was contorted into something resembling a smile and a frown. "I'm so sorry Mulder," she whispered through her tears. He sat up, and Scully collected herself enough to get up and seat next to him. He kept his hands clasped in his lap despite a desperate urge to reach over and pull her into his arms. Instead he simply asked, "For what?" She inhaled deeply, calming herself. "For lying to you." Mulder looked shocked. "About what?" he asked, not believing. "About how I felt," she replied carefully, her own hands clasped tightly together. "How I still feel." He nodded, rather relieved. "Okay, feel about what?" he asked. Neither of them expected the next sentence. "I love you," Scully blurted out. Mulder's eyes fluttered shut, as Scully turned away, cheeks flushed. Thoroughly embarrassed, she stood to leave. But Mulder took her arm, and Scully knew he was asking her to stay. She looked back at him, then away again as she nodded. Sitting carefully down beside him, she sighed deeply. They sat side by side, staring straight ahead for what seemed like an eternity. Scully was far beyond tears now; all she wanted to know was if her feelings were reciprocated or not. If no, fine, they'd go on working together as before. If yes..... "Umm, Scully," Mulder finally said, carefully choosing his words. "I ah, I really care for you; you've been a great friend for all these years, and I umm, I wouldn't want to ruin that." As he rambled on about all the reasons why he couldn't (didn't) love her, Scully's shoulders slumped further and further. She laid her head in her hands, eyes too dry for crying. She had thought that she was ready to be rejected, but this gentle, condescending brush off really got to her. she thought. "But despite all the reasons I shouldn't say this, umm, Scully I love you too." Mulder bit his lip: hard. He was extraordinarily nervous, sweat was pouring from every gland in his body. Mulder thought. Scully heard his last words through her hands, and she suddenly looked up at him. His eyes nervously danced around the room, but immediately returned to her when she whispered, "Mulder?!" She couldn't keep the wonder and joy from her voice (or her face, for that matter). He shrugged, his face lighting up at her joy. She saw his expressive eyes change from nervous, hazy yellow to happy, brilliant emerald. Her own blue eyes, previously dark green with sorrow, had transformed into a beautiful sea-blue. She smiled at him, as if to say *Well, there you have it.* He returned her smile, but his eyes were screaming for some sort of action. So he leaned in a kissed her lightly at the corner of her mouth. Her entire body tensed as his lips touched the soft skin beside her full lips. Her eyes closed briefly, his lips lingered a second too long, and suddenly they were full on kissing. They did not move their lips at all at first; they simply wondered at how it was that for two people who had rarely ever kissed, they knew exactly what to do. Then he laid his hand on her arm. His touch sent a shiver through her, and she immediately pressed her lips to his. He responded by touching her lower lip ever so lightly with his tongue, and from there their bodies began the slow, passionate dance of a real kiss. She found herself with one hand on his back and another behind his head, pulling him closer and closer, deeper and deeper. His hands surrounded her; she wasn't sure how since she was so deeply involved in the exquisite feeling of their lips and mouths joined so intimately together. She knew he was thinking exactly what she was when he finally broke off the kiss and lifted her into his arms, bestowing another kiss upon her brow. "You, are coming with me," he whispered, emphasizing *you* and *me.* They shut themselves in the guest room, and were immediately lost in the abyss. 5:46 PM Feb. 23, 2006 As they sat down to one of Maggie Scully's famous pot roasts, Mulder and Scully felt like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar, although they both secretly enjoyed it. "How was your day, Fox?" Maggie asked cheerfully, a sly undercurrent in her tone. Scully looked at him nervously with a mouthful of string beans, but he simply winked at her, and then they both giggled like school- children. Mrs. Scully smiled as well. "Now Fox," she playfully chided, "Be honest. We wouldn't want Dana to have to tell me what happened, would we dear?" She smiled at her youngest daughter, and Dana shrugged sheepishly. Mulder chuckled. "We had fun I think?" he said, and Scully nodded her agreement. "Excellent dinner Mom," she said, trying to reroute the conversation. Mulder looked eternally grateful. Maggie beamed. "It came out better than last time. Do you remember that Dana? That first time I tried to make pot roast?" Dana thought for a minute, then laughed. "Oh yeah, that time base security had to come and show you and Dad how to use a fire extinguisher." Mulder laughed, disbelieving. "Seriously?" "Oh yeah," Scully said. "I remember the event vividly. As I recall, Dad was transferred soon after that." Skinner chuckled. "Yeah, when I was a kid my Dad used to teach us survival skills. I remember the time he put too much accelerent on the kindling and nearly burned the house down." Mulder and Scully looked at each other with shocked expressions. Skinner? Dad? Boy Scouts? WHAT? Mrs. Scully giggled girlishly, her gaze fixed on Skinner. Maybe it was new lover syndrome, but when they recovered from the shock of hearing Skinner talk like a "civilian," Mulder and Scully couldn't help laughing at them. The dinner passed quickly, and was finished by a short birthday celebration for Dana with a chocolate cake her mother had lovingly prepared from scratch. Afterwards, everyone retired to their separate bedrooms, but only Skinner and Mrs. Scully got much sleep. Dana Scully's Apartment Georgetown, Maryland A Month Later Dana Scully held the phone to her ear long after the person on the other end had disconnected. she kept thinking. As she picked up the phone and dialed Mulder, she thought of what to say. "Mulder," his voice said on the other end of the line. Because of a sudden total loss of words, Scully used her usual greeting. "It's me." Mulder saw right through her forced casualty and asked, "Scully are you okay?" All of the lines she was thinking about using flew from her mind. "Umm, you might say so," she said. "I think you'd better come over." Mulder sounded frightened when he replied. "I'll be right there." When he arrived, he found Scully waiting for him on her sofa, wrapped in a blanket. She looked both happy and frightened at the same time, but as she turned to greet him she put on her poker face. "Sit down," she invited, gesturing towards his favorite spot on the couch. She perched on the arm beside him and looked down at the floor for a moment. Then, gathering her strength with a sharp intake of breath she blurted, "Mulder I'm pregnant." His shock was evident on his face, and he asked, "How? And with what?" Scully looked over at him and sighed. "Mulder, the day I was returned was a day that I should have been ovulating, according to my cycle. Only, before, I never felt odd because nothing was happening. But that day, I had cramps." Mulder still looked shell-shocked. "Scully does that mean you're..." "Fertile? Yes." He shook his head in disbelief, then he thought of something. "Scully you want to keep the baby, correct?" he asked, keeping his tone level. Scully looked away for a moment, then nodded. "I think so." Mulder then asked, "Do you want to keep me?" Scully turned to him suddenly. "What do you mean?" He took a small jewelry box from his pocket, and Scully's eyes filed with tears. "Mulder," she whispered, his name caressing his ears. "I know that this comes thirteen years too late," he began. "But I hope that you will still accept my proposal. Will you marry me?" Her eyes spilled their crystalline contents down her cheeks, and in that instant Mulder knew that he would do anything for her. Scully nodded, mute. Then she finally managed, "I love you, Fox Mulder." Her lips pressed together before her mouth broke into that radiant smile Mulder hadn't seen since 2001. He then slipped the ring onto her finger and gallantly swept her into a kiss. When he pulled away, he pulled her into a dance as he whispered, "I know I've never loved this way before. And no one else has loved me more. With you I've laughed and cried, I have lived and died, what I wouldn't do, just to be with you." She wiped a tear from her eye as he added, "Don't walk away Scully." "Never," she promised. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Je Finis! Feedback to Dana_Katherine_Scully64@yahoo.com (Another part coming?)