From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: Sat, 9 Dec 2000 21:35:26 -0600
Subject: Something Left by Ana Hawkman
Source: direct

Reply To: anahawkman@hotmail.com


Title: Something Left
Author: Ana Hawkman
Category: Angst, MSR
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: anahawkman@hotmail.com
Archiving: Please. Just drop 
		me a line.
Disclaimer: Oh, I wish I were a 
Mulder-Scully owner/ That is what 
I'd truly love to be/ But since I'm 
not a Mulder-Scully owner/ 
Everything belongs to 1013.

Author's notes: Thanks to Meg McScully 
for no particular reason. And guys, 
BE AWARE THAT I DON'T WANT THIS TO 
HAPPEN, IT'S JUST A LITTLE ANGST 
SPLURGE I NEEDED TO GET OUT OF 
MY SYSTEM. PLEASE DON'T HATE ME, 
AND CHRIS CARTER: MAKE HER LOSE 
THE BABY, AND YOU'LL LOSE ALL THE FANS.




I can't handle this. 

Cold rain is falling out of a cold sky, 
and I feel so alone. I'm shivering, 
clothed for the sunny morning. Now, 
it is raining, and night time, and I am 
so cold. 

Everything has been taken from me. Mulder 
has been taken from me. I had one thing 
left to live for after that; Our miracle, 
our baby. It was probably part of a master 
plan in the first place for me to have a 
miscarriage, but it hit me completely off 
guard. And it hurts.

I have cried so hard that my eyes are nearly 
swollen shut. I am curled up on a ball, 
on the bench that Mulder used to sit on 
for hours when he couldn't sleep at night. 
It's cold and raining, but I don't have to 
worry about hypothermia. I don't have anything 
to protect any more. There is nothing left.

A shadow approaches me from the side. If it is 
Doggett, I swear I will beat him to the ground. 
I am so tired of him trying to comfort me, trying 
to make me smile. Things that Mulder used to do, 
that no one will ever do for me again. John can't 
take my partner's place.

"Scully?" That voice. I know that voice so well. 
I look up. A familiar face is standing before me 
in a black trench coat, the rain falling around 
him. He kneels down next to me, putting his hand 
to my cheek. He is so warm. "Oh my God," he 
whispers over the pouring rain.

I must be hallucinating. I know it isn't him. 
He's been gone for a year, now, he can't just 
appear. As much as I want him, need him right now, 
I have to stay on my toes. Either there 
is no one around, or I am too sick to distinguish
person really is.

Then again, I have nothing to lose if it isn't 
really him.

He reaches for me, beginning to scoop me into 
his arms. I jerk away, flinching. He pauses. 
I look up into his eyes, and begin crying again.

"Scully, sweetie, come here." His voice is quiet, 
gentle. I want it to be him so badly my chest 
hurts. He reaches for me again. He pulls me to 
a stand in front of him, and takes off his coat. 
As he wraps me in it, I look up at him. It is 
so wonderful to feel my neck crane to that 
familiar angle to meet his eyes.

"How can I be sure it's you?" I ask, my voice tiny 
and quavering. His face softens, and he touches 
my hand. I do not pull it back, so he holds it 
between both of his own. So warm. His fingers 
caress the ring on my left hand, a gold engagement 
ring that I found in the droor of Mulder's night stand.

"My partner, my touchstone, my life." He recites 
the words engraved on the indside of th ring's 
band. With those words, I crumble to the ground.

Some time later, I am in dry pajamas, wrapped 
in multiple blankets on my couch. There is a 
fire in the fireplace, and I'm drinking a mug of 
hot tea. I sniffle a little, in the aftermath of 
crying and being cold. We have been talking for 
a long time, and the combination of warmth and 
safety are making me drowsy. I nestle back into 
Mulder's embrace.

"Scully," he murmurs, and I tip my head back to 
look at him. "I'm so sorry." The tears in his 
eyes spill over, and he leans in to kiss my lips 
very gently. He hugs me close, resting his neck 
against mine. "I don't want to hurt you any more," 
he says quietly. I rest my head on his shoulder 
and breathe in deeply, loving the feeling of him, 
the smell of him, his voice. It's been too long. 

"Mulder." I say his name quietly, yet firmly. 
"Look at me." His beautiful, tearful hazel 
eyes meet mine, and I see the raw pain there. 
I kiss his forehead. "You've never hurt me, 
and I know that you never would. We're together 
now... quit worrying, okay?" I tenderly brush 
some hair out of his eyes. 

"I have hurt you, though, Scully. My God, look 
at how I found you. That was because of me. 
Because you lost our baby. You should have 
never come to the FBI. You could have had a 
normal life, with lots of healthy children. 
But I've taken it all away from you, Scully, 
either directly or indirectly. And I love 
you so much. I never meant to hurt you." He 
does not pull me back into his arms as I think 
he might, but rather holds my eyes and looks 
straight into my soul. 

"You are the best thing that has ever happened 
to me, Mulder, you can never doubt that. 
You're the best part of me. You make me a 
whole person." He smiles a bit through his 
tears at my repeating of his own words. He hugs 
me close, stroking my hair.  "I was going to 
name her Samantha Mulder," I whisper, and he 
hiccupps, crying hard into my shoulder.  

We both stop crying, finally, and move to my 
bedroom. Mulder turns down the blankets for 
me, and I crawl between the cool white sheets. 
He crawls in next to me, and I remember fondly 
the few nights we did this before his 
dissapearance. We had only slept together 
(in the same bed, that is) three or four times,
but it has always felt so safe and so natural, 
so safe. 

For the first time in months, I sleep. 



Finis
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