Date: Sun, 17 Dec 2000 05:56:12 +0100 Subject: NEW Ruhe (1/2) Source: direct Ruhe (1/2) By Tinkerton Disclaimer: I do not own the characters portrayed in this piece of writing, they belong to Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions. No copyright infringement intended, I will not make any money with them. I will give them back as soon as I am done playing, er...writing. Summary: In the end, you may find something. Or lose everything. Category: SAR Keywords: MSR, Character Death Rating: R Spoiler: Post-Requiem, a bit into S8 Archive: Just keep my name and address attached to it, and don't change anything. Feedback: Hearing what other people think about my writing makes me a very happy person -tinkergonetotown@hotmail.com- Author's Notes: As you will notice when you read it, this story does not just start at point A and ends at point B. I made use of flashbacks, the stream of consciousness technique, inner monologues, and switches in time and place, adding to a certain - confusing - atmosphere. I dedicate this story to Jelka, who is such a wonderful person and a great friend. Here we go... -------------------------------------------------- As the darkness slowly commences falling and cool winds whisper their songs, the day comes to an end. A merciful night begins to spread its cloak over a scene of fear and dismay. Some things never change. But some do. The feeling of being under the spell of something much stronger than oneself overcomes the players in this final tragedy at the ending of this final day, being in fact only bystanders...watching whatever there is for them to watch. 'I trust in you...you will make it.' Scully's voice breaks as she is fighting to hold back the tears. 'You have to...' She helplessly looks down at her partner, his head resting in her lap, blood trickling down the side of his face, the shot wounds in his chest won't stop bleeding, no matter how much pressure she applies. Her hands are wet with his blood, her eyes are trying to trace a reaction to her words in his. But he does not hear her. He does not hear. When she closes her eyes now, she can still see him. The boy Scully gave birth to a few weeks after Mulder's return was his son. DNA tests had revealed that Mulder's and her genes somehow had been combined, with some DNA material added that could not be analyzed sufficiently. How in fact Scully could get pregnant at all remained a mystery as well. Fox Mulder dealt with this problem simply by denying it was a problem. He had learnt that some questions were not to be asked; after his return, a certain change about him had become so obvious it was undeniable. His wish to find the truth had diminished, he was not searching any more for whatever hidden truth there might be. He had found his own. Medical examinations conducted after his reappearance had given him the certainty that his illness was still there, but its effects somehow had been slowed down so that it would not kill him - at least not in the next 35 years or so of his life. He accepted that as a fact, resigned from the Bureau and the X Files, bought a house and took to writing. Whenever his dreams let him write. The searching look in his eyes had transformed into a slightly troubled expression. Mulder had obviously seen things that were too much. Even for him. He was supposed to be under constant supervision now, but so far he had been rejecting all proposals of treatment or psychological help. Scully seemed to be the only person understanding and accepting this decision. She took care of him now. Whenever he let her. ----------------------------------------------- Dana Scully had been transformed to the FBI Academy at Quantico at her own request. Special Agent John Doggett, however, kept on reporting to her about the X Files department and his cases. About A.D. Skinner, his direct superior. About his new partner. She had never asked him to do so, but was in a way grateful that he did. She taught at Quantico and raised her son, building up the illusion that her life was very normal and quiet. She had refused herself to be hurt by Mulder's decision not to live together with her and the baby, as a family. 'Time, Scully. I need time.' She knew she could wait. After having waited for so long. She knew what he was so afraid of. Although this closeness, this routine was all Scully had ever truly wished for, a perfect closeness to Mulder, their lives as one, she respected his yearning for distance. He could not afford loving too much, giving himself up again. Not for a personal quest, and not for the woman he loved, either. He was too afraid of losing it all over again. 'Scully, I am tired. So tired. I need to rest.' Nevertheless, they spent a great portion of their time together, sometimes even worked together at Quantico, shared their joy watching their son grow, two commuters between two households, carefully avoiding too much closeness, a too tiring routine. But she still would be holding him at night, when the nightmares came and the voices, too, when he was terrified by his memories, when all he could do was call her name in tears and when all she could do was hold him tight, letting him feel that she was there, at his side. Finally. She would hold him this time, at least, she thought. In such nights, Mulder would lie sobbing in her arms, slowly drifting back to a disturbed sleep, trembling and murmuring words and phrases that would break her heart as she held him and cried silent tears. 'Hold on, Mulder. Hold on to me. Don't leave me.' There were nights of love, too. Long nights of being close, of getting lost in the depths of happiness, fulfilment, completion. They would make love very slowly, tenderly, speaking to each other with their hands, their lips, and their eyes. The darkness surrounding them was like a soothing layer over them as they shared precious moments of perfect closeness. He would never let go of her hand. He would hold her all night, close to his body, close to his dreams, resting beside her and listening to her breathing. Just as Scully listened to his sobs in other nights. When he was holding her that way, when he could listen to her heartbeat and when the darkness around him was not too deep, he could even sleep without waking up screaming to one of his many dreams. Sometimes. A few days after Mulder was found in the Arizona desert, a local police squad turned up a horribly disfigured body in an empty apartment building in Phoenix. Identification of the remainings proved difficult, and it was not before Agent Dana Scully conducted an autopsy that the assumption of having finally found the body of "CGB Spender" was voiced. He had been dead for quite a while already before he was discovered. And yes, it really seemed to be him. Mulder showed no reaction to the news when Scully told him about the body. He looked at her, looked outside, opened the window to let in the cool air and silently watched his son sleeping peacefully in his cradle. When he had realized how distant that name was, how far away the man behind it and of how little importance all his doings were in the end, when there was so much more to it, when there was more than before, he could not help feel terrified. Next morning, with an expression in his eyes that testified his fear had again been stronger than his urge to sleep, he asked Scully to bring the boy to her mother's place. "He is not save here". "You...you have not slept at all last night, have you? What's wrong?" "He will be much safer at your mother's...and you shoud stay there for a while, too." "Why? What's going to happen? What are you so afraid of?" He reached out for her, not looking into her eyes but longing for the touch of her, for her hands on his body; he was longing for being held. But when their hands touched, he winced. His own personal quest, his searching for a truth he had needed so much, had changed this woman's life forever, had made it complicated and dangerous, there was so much at stake for her, she would never be able to lead a normal, quiet and peaceful life again. He felt guilty for loving her so much. 'I don't feel pain, I don't feel the ground beneath me. Everything is quiet around me. I can't move. But I don't know if I would want to move if I could. I am listening to you. To your voice. I don't understand what you say.' The dream seemed to be gone then. He did not repeat his plea to her. A few days later, Walter Skinner was found in his apartment. He had not come to work, had not answered his phone, nobody had seen him for three days. When Special Agent John Doggett called Scully to inform her about Skinner's violent death, he was sparing with the details. "Yes, gun shots. Several. No, no finger prints found yet. Yes, he must have let the murderer in through the apartment door. His laptop is missing, other than that, no. Nobody noticed anything. No ideas so far, no. Yes, I will keep you informed." Scully's thoughts started drifting back into the past. It had been a cold and rainy day, and the night did not seem to promise any changes. After a day at work with nothing but paperwork and regularities, Scully had come home, checked her phone calls (her mother had left her a message), changed into her running outfit and ran her rounds in the calming rain, letting the cool air and the water on her face soothe her feelings of guilt. That moment, she wanted to run forever, away from her thoughts and her feelings and her guilt and the helplessness. But she could not run away from reality. It was pitch dark when she finally came back to her apartment. Fighting the uncomfortable silence around her, she switched the TV on, took a long bath and with a blanket and a book settled down for the night on her coach. Maybe she would be able to sleep later on. How long has it been? A year? Two? Several months. Yes...The clock in the bedroom was ticking distractingly. 'He's in every thought I have. I can feel his touch wherever I am, when I close my eyes I see him looking at me, smiling. But I can't hear him. He never says a word...I can never hear his voice. Why does he hide in silence?' When she called her mother, she was relieved to find that their words were strong enough to suppress her thoughts. At least for a while. ---------------------------------------------- The ringing of the phone in the middle of the night woke her. She had finally fallen asleep to the rain drizzling against the window, on her coach, with the lights on. The moment she touched the receiver she knew that they had found him. "Yes." "Agent Scully, this is Walter Skinner." "Where is he?" "...he was found in Arizona, near that school. Gibson...he called local police from a telephone booth just a few hours ago and said something about a man lying in the desert and describing how they would get there. They wouldn't believe him at first..." "Where is he now?" "He's been transferred to Tucson General, he's still unconscious, 's far as I know..." "I'm coming." She didn't wait for an answer, she didn't care what Skinner might tell her, probably something about not getting upset too much or thinking of herself first. She was out of the door only minutes later, her heart pounding, tears streaming down her face, but she did not notice them, she did not realize she was crying and shaking all over. Both grateful and afraid at the same time, she just prayed silently that Mulder would break the silence. All the years came back to her as she walked down the cool hospital halls. It seemed so long ago. She passed nurses and doctors, visitors looking around uncomfortably, but she did not see them. Her thoughts were wandering back into a past that seemed so infinitely far away to her at that moment. When had she realized there was much more to lose than faith? She was afraid, shaking with cold and despair, but deep inside her she had that feeling, that strong certainty of being exactly where she was supposed to be, going exactly where she was supposed to go, of having had everything she needed for all those years, and even having lost that for a while could not weaken her belief now. She would regain everything that mattered to her. Everything seemed so clear now, so near and so easy. She believed. She believed in having made the right choices. She believed in being able to give whatever it took. She realized how close she had been to this thought through all these years. And yet so far away. She loved. 'I am weary, Scully. Let me rest. Let me sleep.' Nobody tried to hold her back as she entered the ICU area, where she found Skinner sitting uncomfortably on a little bench next to a glass door. He jumped to his feet when he saw her, speaking to her in a tired voice she never heard. Her left hand resting protectively on her abdomen, she opened the door and entered Mulder's room. -------------------------------------------------- End of Part One Ruhe (2/2) by Tinkerton The physical recovery had taken a few months. The wounds on his chest, his back, his legs had healed, he soon was able to walk again. Due to the punctuation of his palate and an infection in his nasal cavity, getting used to talking again took a bit longer. After a while, the scars on the back of his head were hidden under his hair that had grown rather long again, the ones on his forehead only slightly visible. He was left infertile, as tests had revealed, and Scully was suspecting some kind of radiation behind it. However, the actual cause remained unknown. He had lost considerably much weight, most of which he regained in the course of a special diet, but other than that, he seemed to be ok. Physically. But with that first look at him in the hospital room, when she saw his fatigued face and his limp body in the white sheets of the hospital bed, Scully knew he would never fully recover. 'Losing faith always means gaining something. Or forgetting.' She sat down by his side. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow. His hand was so alarmingly cold that she felt the urge to check his pulse at once. Yes, he was still there. He was still with her. He was still strong enough to hold on. She held his hand and with closed eyes stayed by his side, praying silently as the tears gathered in her eyes. After Mulder had opened his eyes, three days after his return, things seemed to happen very fast. The treatment, the examinations, the long healing process, the birth of Scully's son, Mulder's release from the hospital, everything seemed to blur into an unreal image of love and fear, of hope and hatred. Whenever she spoke to him, or watched him when she knew he was not noticing her eyes upon him, she felt helpless, distressed at his silent suffering. His world had changed forever, and he had come to accept that, it seemed. In silence. Weeks and months came and went. Time went by. Eventually, she even got past the point where thinking back was painful. And whenever she would remember the last night they spent together, the last moments next to him, Scully would never feel regret. She would not mourn him then. All she would feel in these moments was deep gratitude. And unconditional love. The memory of their last night would fill her with strength and warmth, giving her the power to carry on. No matter how long it would take. ------------------------------------------------ After some project work at the office, she shared the comforting evening after a cold day with Mulder at her apartment. As usual, he did not talk too much, casually mentioning a phone call he had received earlier that day, and that he would have to meet someone in the morning. He did not want to talk, but he longed to hold her. His hands touched her body and held her tight, smoothing her skin with his warm fingertips, his eyes speaking of love even as he was carefully avoiding every word that would disturb the silence in the bedroom. Scully could feel his breath softly on her face as he tenderly stroke her hair and rested his hand in the nape of her neck, only slightly touching her earlobe with his thumb.She was looking into his dark eyes and lost herself in them. He was so close to her now. The bedroom they were in, the darkness around them and the cool air from the open window on their bare skin seemed so far away all of a sudden, their past so distant and yet so overwhelming and near as their bodies touched and they felt a shiver arise. Scully rested her head on his chest, feeling his heart beat, and gently slid her hand into his. His warmth seemed to pour into her body and deep down into her heart, filling out every corner and easing the ache inside her. She breathed in his scent, felt his hand on the bare skin of her back and closed her eyes, falling into his embrace and his caress. Their eyes met. The dark green shade of his seemed softer than before to her. All she wanted now was to be next to him, feel him closer to her with every move, hold him all night. His gaze slowly dropped to her mouth. He leaned down to her, so carefully, so slowly that the anticipation of feeling his lips on hers became almost painful. When she felt his warm mouth, her lips parted. 'Mulder? Can you hear me? It's me, Scully. You will be alright...' 'Scully...? I'm cold.' 'I will get you out of here, Mulder, just hold on. I need you to hold on.' 'Scully, I am tired. So tired. I need to rest.' As she felt his sweaty body on her own, as his hips were between her hot thighs and he was inside her, deep inside her, filling every part of her body with his presence and his love and his tender thrusts, as her body arched upwards and met his, Scully felt the burning desire deep inside her slowly take control of her senses. She knew that when she let go now, when she lost control completely, he would be there, waiting for her, catching her when she fell and then holding her tight. She was not afraid to let go. The throbbing desire inside their bodies only slowly subsided, and was replaced by a soothing satisfaction washing away past and present, time and place. The morning's first light finds them snuggled together, Mulder embracing her from behind, her head resting on his arm and her hands holding his. She feels the peaceful rising and falling of his chest against her back and adjusts her breathing to his. Realizing that she doesn't think about the past or worries about things to come now, smiling silently and breathing in his presence, she closes her eyes and drifts away, into a bottomless sleep swallowing everything. The phone woke her. She realized at once that she was alone. Mulder was gone. She slipped through the cold apartment and found the phone which was still ringing impatiently. "Yes." "Agent Scully, it's John Doggett." "What is it?" "I was trying to reach Fox Mulder, but he is not answering his phone. I thought he might be with..." "No...what are you trying to reach him for?" "Well, I have reason to believe that he is going to meet with someone who contacted him yesterday. He said he wouldn't take the risk going there alone, but since I can't reach him..." "Who?" "Someone by the name of Krycek..." That night, she would be kneeling beside him. The dark night is glaring with the lights of police cars and ambulances. The wet streets are swirling with men, running around. They were trying to find a man with a gun, hiding in an empty factory building. Mulder had not consented to his plans. No, he would not infiltrate the FBI. He would not defeat them with their own weapons. How could he? Skinner had not, either. Having revealed his plans to Mulder, Krycek felt under pressure. An argument had led to the firing of guns. When it is raining at night, she sometimes finds herself standing at the window, watching the rain drops fall, listening. Rain drops falling on the already wet streets. The cold light reflecting in the puddles. Men running around. Shouting. She sees his face. He is smiling at her, calmly. But he does not speak. The flashlights came nearer. She blinked into the bright light. They had found Mulder. Krycek was hiding somewhere in that dark and empty building. He was wounded, too. She heard gunshots. He still had the gun. ---------------------------------------------------- I can't see. I can see nothing but darkness around me. Darkness surrounding me and swallowing everything. The light, the warmth. Your voice. I can hardly hear you. Are you there? I cannot hear you, but I think I can feel you. Your presence. Is it really you, or am I dreaming? Am I only wishing? It is so cold. I feel the wetness of my clothes. It seems warm on my body, warm and sticky. Dripping down, settling on my skin. When I shiver I feel the thick fluid on my body, and sometimes it feels as if a hand touches me and tries to wipe it away. Is that your hand? Are you here? I don't know if I am dreaming. I don't feel pain, I don't feel the ground beneath me. Everything is quiet around me. I can't move. But I don't know if I would want to move if I could. I am listening to you. To your voice. I don't understand what you say. The cold rises, it slowly creeps into my body now and takes possession of my heart. Where am I? Why am I here? Something is not right. I am lying on the ground, I cannot move. My chest feels numb. My shoulder hurts. Are you...are you there? Scully? Can you hear me? I shiver. I am cold. What is going on here? As I try to move, I cry out. It hurts, my shoulder aches, I can't feel my legs. Panic rises, I want to see, want to know what's going on here. Help me. Where...where is my gun? What happened? Where are you? Help me, Scully, please help. Why do you leave me? Are you there...? I am calling for you now. My throat hurts, I do not recognize my voice. Why can't I see anything? Help me! Scully did not realize what was going on around her. She was kneeling down on the wet street, whispering and desperately trying to hold back the tears. She was resting her partner's head carefully in her lap and pressing her hand on the shot wound in his chest. Don't go, Mulder, please, hold on. Don't leave me, can you hear me? Hold on. Mulder, I am here with you. Everything will be alright, we will get you out of here. Can you hear me? Mulder... Her tears were falling. Her hands were cold, she was afraid. He is going away, she thought. I can't hold him back. I have found him, found him at last, but he will not stay. I will lose him again. Scully...? Are you there? I am cold. It is so dark around me. Where am I going? She held his hand, squeezing it, rubbing his fingers. He moaned. Mulder? Can you hear me? It's me, Scully. You will be alright... Scully...? I'm cold. I will get you out of here, Mulder, just hold on. I need you to hold on. Scully, I am tired. So tired. I need to rest. Mulder... I am tired. As he opened his eyes and found hers, he smiled weakly. She was sobbing, clutching his hand. He had stopped moving. His hand was cold. He was going. I am weary, Scully. Let me rest. Let me sleep. She had no words. She cried as she watched him smiling thoughtfully, his eye lids flickering, closing slowly. Her hand was resting on his chest now, she was holding his head and could feel the warm blood trickling down her wrist. He was going. Peace, Scully. I need peace. He smiled again, almost guiltily, and his eyes began to close. His muscles relaxed, he sunk back into Scully's arms. Peace. As Scully saw him go, she prayed silently. Hold on, Mulder. Hold on to me. Don't leave me. Hold on. Mulder... Mulder? Don't... Mulder? Mulder? As the rain was dripping down, as the street reflected the hectic lights of the police cars and the flashlights, she watched her partner go. She prayed for him to find peace, she prayed for him - and for herself. As she felt him slip away, something deep inside her broke. Hold on to me. Don't leave me... I love you. Some things never change. But some do. As she closed his eyes for the last time, she had no tears left. ----------------------------------------------------- THE END "Ruhe" is German for peace, silence, rest. Please let me know what you think: tinkergonetotown@hotmail.com