From: Hiljean83@aol.com
Date: Tue, 13 Jul 1999 15:13:55 EDT
Subject: May You Find Some Comfort Here (1 of 1)

Title: May You Find Some Comfort Here
Author: Kurt
E-Mail address: Hiljean83@aol.com (this is Pennyroyal Tea's address; she's 
posting for a friend)
Distribution: Xemplary, everywhere else let me know
Spoilers: you have to know that Melissa Scully is dead
Rating: PG
Classifications: S 
Summary: Scully gets a peek at something ethereal.
Author's Notes: This is probably going to be a corny story to whoever reads 
it, but I wrote it late at night. Bear with me.
Disclaimer: I did not create the characters within this text. They have 
sprouted from the eccentric and twisted (and not to mention rather delicious) 
mind of Chris Carter. No infringement is intended. Please don't sue me, I 
have no money.


Mulder stood in the cemetery, silent, tall, sentinel, and watchful. Scully 
bent down to the grave before her. The cold winter night wind snapped at her 
cheeks and whipped about her legs, penetrating her paper thin trenchcoat 
she'd donned at the last moment before leaving the office. Mulder looked on 
as her red hair was tossed out of place into her blazing eyes and stuck to 
her moist, full lips. 

She placed the lilies in the snow below the letter M that was etched into the 
white marble headstone. A heavy sigh escaped her, which shivered and 
shuddered at the end. She kissed her fore and middle fingers, then touched 
them to the headstone. Two years, she thought, but it seems like yesterday. 

Mulder watched her then as she stood and turned to him. He took her hand and 
let their eyes meet for a moment, then he let go. They walked back to the car 
slowly, immersed in silence now, but words didn't have to be spoken. Mulder 
watched her walk ahead of him, his pulse seeming exceedingly slow, her 
strides exceedingly small, and the world seeming to be moving underwater. 

Then the sensation hit him; searing heat rushing through him, melting his 
lungs and boiling his blood. The ground came up at him suddenly when he 
realized he was falling. 

Scully turned at the shot and horror transfigured her face into something 
almost inhuman when she saw Mulder go down. Instantly her eyes studied the 
darkness around him, searching the night for a gunman. She saw him there ....

The Cigarette Smoking Man standing, his signature cigarette dangling between 
his lips that were turned up at the ends in  demonic grin. A gun in his right 
hand, smoke rising from the barrel, and dancing in the frigid air.  But as 
Scully pulled out her gun, ready to take his head off ...when she looked up 
again, he was gone. 

Mulder lay on the ground, heaving for air, laboring to get oxygen. She flew 
to his side, his hand already pressed to his chest, blood oozing profusely 
from between his fingers. In a flash Scully had her cell phone and called for 
an ambulance. 

Mulder's eyes were open to tiny slits, through which past his eyelashes, 
Scully could see the fear and pain. Don't die, Mulder, she felt like saying, 
but she held back. I need you, Mulder, here, now ... I love you, Mulder, her mind 
sang. But she dared not repeat the words running in her mind out loud. 

Sweat beaded his face. Scully hoped he hadn't been shot through the heart
 ... he wasn't, thank God, as she tore open his shirt to inspect him.

It was then that Scully saw something out of the corner of her eye. When she 
turned, it was gone, but when she brought her gaze back to Mulder, it was 
plain as ever. Mulder's eyes were closed in his pain, but his breathing had 
eased. Golden, white, and blue surges of energy surrounded his body, giving 
off a warmth that Scully remembered feeling back when she was a child....

A halo of light bathed his crumpled form. And then for one fleeting moment, 
Scully saw it. It seemed more like a shadow to her at first, and then it 
grew, into a thin transparent web of golden light. A wing. Then, the other 
formed and they stretched out, wide and full, giving off more and more warmth 
as they moved further out. Mulder's eyelids relaxed, and his pain was 
lessened. But Scully's fear took over. 

"DON'T DIE! DON'T LEAVE!" she screamed, tears flowing freely, hotly. Mulder 
opened his mouth slightly. "I won't," came a raspy, blood-soaked sound from 
his throat. And then she realized the sirens were very close, and upon this 
realization, the energy, the halo of light, the weblike wings, the heat, 
faded instantly. Mulder began wincing again and it hurt him to draw air. A 
second later he was on a stretcher, unconscious, and she was riding in the 
back of the ambulance, silent.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hours later. Scully walked into the room and saw Mulder connected to IVs and 
a ventilator. The sight of him made her shiver. She knew the future already. 
He would be all right in a few weeks, unless he wakes up and sneaks out of 
here tonight, she thought. 

She put her hand on his. He was cold. It scared her to feel his hand so cold. 
She checked the monitors. His heart beating steadily, his breathing being 
done for him, he seemed stable for now. Suddenly she heard him struggle to 
speak past the tube in his throat. "Still here," he said, then fell silent. 
She squeezed his hand. To her amazement, he squeezed back. The warmth 
returned to his fingers momentarily, and she knew that it was going to take 
much more than one pitiful bullet to kill off Fox Mulder.

The End