Subject:          Resurrection 1/1
From:             jodig2@juno.com (Jodi S Gawf)
Date sent:        Sat, 19 Jul 1997 21:41:13 EDT

Title: Resurrection
Author: Jodi Gawf
Rating: G
Category: X, little bit of SA
Spoilers: Gethsemane
Summary:  Possible ending of Gethsemane.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
T H E   X - F I L E S
Resurrection (1/1)
by Jodi Gawf
jodig2@juno.com


NOTE:  If you couldn't guess what this is about by the title, it's a
possible
ending to Gethsemane.  A possible cheesy ending that CC would never use. 
Which brings me to another point.  This is far too fluffy to be an
X-File,
so why would anyone think I was doing this for money?  I'm not and all
the characters herein belong to CC, 1013, and GA an DD.  I'm just playing
with them for awhile, and they will be returned to the shelf that is
summer reruns when I'm done.  I'd like to thank Megan and Stasia for
their editing help...Thanks guys!  Commenting is much appreciated, and
you can give this to anyone you want as long as my name and disclaimer
and the disclaimer are still attached.  Have a nice read!
************************************

Resurrection


	Scully walked out of the conference room, the tears of her
testimony still on her cheeks, but soon to be forgotten.  She quickly
dried them,
amazed at how  easily the panel had been fooled.  She guessed it was
because they didn't know Mulder like she did.  They didn't know that he
didn't easily give up.  He had been twelve when Samantha was kidnapped,
and how many setbacks had he encountered since then?  Was this latest one
going to cause him to kill himself?  Scully silently scoffed at the idea.
 She drove to her apartment, hoping to dear God that the police didn't
pull her over for her dangerous speed.  She would need to change clothes
and take a shower before she left, so the last thing she needed was
another delay.  How long had it been since she'd seen him?  Three days. 
Three *excruciating* days.  

	She almost started believing that he was dead.  The way people
looked 
at her in the hallway at the Bureau, the way they whispered when she was
around--the way they lightly tapped her on the shoulder, saying "I'm
sorry" in low tones--it was almost more than she could take.  But she
just had to keep the sad 
expression on her face for one more day.  Then she could see him. 
Finally.  She 
was worried, though.  Her last words to him were pretty harsh.  She was
angry, 
frustrated, and it just came out.  He probably felt guilty, really
guilty.  She wanted to take back the words, spoken in haste.  And she
could never do that.  Scully could apologize all she wanted, but they
would both know how she really felt.  Just like when she was little, Bill
had told her she was an accident when they were arguing once.  Sure, she
didn't believe him, but she couldn't help but wonder.  No, she couldn't
take the awful words she said back, and neither of them could ignore the
reality of the situation.
*****************
	Scully drove hastily from the airport to the secluded town in
Maine 
where they agreed to meet.  The scenery was beautiful.  The pines left a
light 
scent in the air, and the snow-topped mountains up ahead taunted her to
come closer and climb their jagged points.  They loomed large and ominous
in front of 
her, just like the impending confrontation with Mulder.  She dreaded it
more than 
her own death.  At least she had experienced death before and knew what
was 
coming.  
	Mulder, however, was not so predictable.  Why couldn't he just
believe her?  Why was it so hard to think that the government was using
him to cover up stuff?  They did it with everything else.  Use a lie to
cover a lie, and then confess to the first one.  That way the media was
obsessed with the conspiracy that was *designed* to be uncovered, not the
real thing.  She did know, though, why Mulder couldn't accept it.  It was
his whole life.  It *was* difficult, and she couldn't imagine dedicating
her whole life to something only to find out it was all for nothing. 
After she had delivered the final words about her cancer, she felt
terrible.  Scully had basically said that it was his fault she was sick,
and even she knew it wasn't. He had stormed off down the hall, but she
ran after him:
	"Mulder!  It was what he told me.  I'm sorry!" she shouted down
the hall.  "Please!  I want to explain!"
	"Scully, you don't have to explain anything, I know now what I
have to do."
	"What are you talking about?"
	"I have to leave, get away from my work for a little while, think
about some things.  If what you told me is true, I can't just hang around
here and play their little game.  I need to go think."  He looked
defeated; a broken man stood before Scully, and what she had to say next
would break him even further.
	"Mulder, you can't just leave," she said quietly, "They want to
kill you.  They can't use you to further their lies anymore and you can't
hide from them.  Even now, they know that you're here.  They know if you
leave here; if you stay here; if you go to Nevada, Mexico, Russia; they
*know*, Mulder!  I will die anyway, but you, you will still be a threat
when I'm gone."  At this moment, Mulder began to formulate a plan.  He
knew someone who would be willing to help him *and* Scully.
********************
One Week Ago

	Mulder walked down the hallway of the apartment building, looking
behind him nervously.  He knocked on the door of the unit he was looking
for.
	"Who is it?"  a friendly voice answered.
	"Agent Mulder, from the FBI.  Can I come in, Mr. Smith?"  There
was a long silence and just as Mulder was about to leave, the door was
opened a crack, and Mulder walked in, hoping that no one saw him.
	"What can I do for you, Mr. Mulder?"  Jeremiah Smith looked sad,
yet foreboding.  Mulder wondered if his proposal would work.
	"Well, I know that you can, um, heal people, and I was wondering
if you could help my partner and I.  We--"  The old man interrupted him
gently.
	The old man interrupted him gently.  "Ahh, Ms. Scully is it not? 
They did give her the cancer, correct?  Well, yes, I can help her.  But
I'm afraid that I don't get out much.  I have a feeling that I can only
bribe the Smoking Man once.  She will have to come here."
	"Well, actually, Mr. Smith, I needed your help also.  You see,
you have the ability to, um, change, right?  Into anyone.  I've seen them
do it.  I mean you, I mean, I've seen the change.  And, well, I need to
disappear."  Mulder stammered, not sure how to complete his request.
	"You need to die?  I assumed this is what you wanted when I saw
you at the door.  The Project has progressed far enough with you.  They
want to kill you, right?  Like them, I know what is going on in your
life.  I know that you must have trouble asking me to give up my life for
yours.  But, trust me, I knew it was coming.  Do you know what my life is
like, Mulder?  I sit here all day, not wanting the phone to ring, for
fear *they* have found me.  I hate getting visitors, for fear *they* have
found me.  I am still their pawn, even though I have exited the Project. 
I live every single day waiting for them to find me.  I could not bring
myself to end my own life.  Do you understand my power to heal, Mr.
Mulder?  It is the greatest gift anyone could have.  I can't waste it
just because I'm a coward.  This is the only way that my gift can be used
one final time.  And it wouldn't be a waste, Mulder.  I will help you." 
Mulder was stunned by Jeremiah's response.  He could barely speak.
	"I--we--I, thank you.  Mr. Smith, thank you.  Do you want me to
do anything?"
	"I want you to bring Dana here tomorrow.  I will heal her.  I can
guarantee that she will be completely healthy for the rest of her life." 
Jeremiah smiled at the prospect of healing Scully.
	"Thank you.  You don't know how much this means to me."
	"Yes I do Mulder, I do.  Two days after that, I will meet you in
your apartment.  I will assume your shape, then I will kill myself.  I
will need your weapon and some of your clothes.  I think that is all." 
Mulder could not believe the detachment that Smith spoke of his own death
with.  He could not believe that a man with so much power could be so
powerless.  It deeply saddened him.
	"Thank you again, Mr. Smith, this is...thank you."  Mulder walked
out of the apartment, confident that the plan would work.
****************
	Scully's heels echoed on the wooden steps of the cabin.  She
knocked on the door.  "It's me," she said, and Mulder opened the door. 
They hugged, and she was glad to finally feel his touch and smell his
smell again.  She whispered, "I'm sorry," into his jacket, and he pulled
away, holding both of her shoulders at arm's length.  She said, "I'm
sorry," again and he closed his eyes for a moment before responding.
	"Scully, I never meant for you to get so caught up in this.  I--I
want to 
believe that you have forgiven me, but I'm was causing you to die.  I was
killing you Scully, slowly and painfully.  I can't believe that you don't
hold a grudge at all.  I just can't.  I want to--"  Scully cut him off
abruptly.
	"Mulder, how can I hold a grudge against you?  First of all, you
fixed it, you fixed me.  Second of all, you've saved my life countless
times, and besides, it's not your fault.  I mean you--you didn't know. 
Sure, I was assigned to be your partner, but I was not assigned to be
your friend or help you find your sister.  That was my choice, not yours,
not anyone's but mine.  I am to blame as much as anyone for my tumor.  I
know that you don't believe that.  But I can't think of any way to tell
you any better.  You are my best friend, Mulder, and I cannot hold a
grudge.  Especially for something you did not, *did not* do."  After
Scully finished speaking, Mulder let the tears fall.  He leaned into her
arms and they stood there with each other for what seemed like hours.  "I
don't deserve you Scully, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,"  Mulder sobbed into her
sweater.  She simply stroked his hair and consoled him.  As they left
each other's embrace, Mulder once again apologized.  "That will be that
last time I hear you apologize to me for my cancer.  It's gone Mulder." 
He put his arm around her and they walked into the cabin, together.
**************************

T H E  E N D

Again, comments are very much appreciated...not to mention expected! :)
--jodig2@juno.com--

*******************************
Psalm 92:8, M&S, MCMC#6, R#18
"Chemistry is the root of all evil." Dina DeCoste
"I wish I felt nothing, then it might be easy for me, like it is for
you." The Wallflowers
"Elvis isn't dead, he just went home."  Agent K, MiB