***************************************************************** This author's e-mail address has changed to: rn500@usa.net ***************************************************************** From: RN500 Date: 8 Apr 1998 10:47:24 GMT Subject: REPOST: "Treasures" by L. Phillips A friend talked me into dragging this one out of the vault. And remember... Scully's in *remission*, not cured... Title: Treasures Author: Linda Phillips Rating: PG Classification: S/A Keywords: Mulder/Scully UST , Mulder/Other Romance , character dies Spoilers: Memento Mori, end of season 4 Summary: After Mulder's death, his grown daughter discovers an old journal of Scully's Disclaimers: The X-Files and it's characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Television. I am only borrowing them for my own selfish purposes, of which making money is not one (though I wish it were) ~~~~~~~~~~~ Comments to Linda at rn500@ozline.net ~~~~~~~~~~~ The young woman sneezed as a cloud of dust wafted up from the boxes she was moving. She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, and wiped her sweaty forehead on her shirt sleeve. Opening the box on the top of the stack, she found more papers, files, newspaper clippings. She quickly rifled through them, closed the box and wrote 'TRASH' on the lid with her black marker, and stacked it on top of the other three that were marked the same. she thought. The next box was full of his old clothes. These she went through more slowly, memories flooding in as she recognized this shirt, or that tie. She lifted a scruffy blue sweater out of the box, the one that her mother had knitted for him years ago. The elbows were almost worn through. It had been his favorite. Lifting it to her nose, she breathed in deeply, hoping to find his yet. But her father had married late in life, and had been 44 years old when she herself was born. Still, his sudden death last year had been a shock to them all. She still missed him terribly. Thank goodness her mother was 11 years younger than her father, at least she wouldn't have to think about facing this again for a while. Untying her long brown hair, she gathered up the strands that had escaped and tied it back again. Leaning over, she pulled a small box to her, and lifted the top. This looked to be things of a more personal nature. Mostly junk, but a few things she and her brother might want to have. She rummaged around through the award plaques, old tie tacs, date books... "Well, I'll be damned." she said aloud. She held up an old FBI badge with her father's picture on it, as a much younger, handsome man. She had known that he was once in the FBI, but he had rarely spoken of it. By the time she was born, he was teaching at the University of Colorado, where he stayed until his retirement a few years ago. Putting the badge to one side, she continued looking through the box. A slim leather-bound book caught her eye, and she lifted it out of the relics. The cover was a muted blue. There was no identification on the outside of it, so she opened it to the first page and began to read the neat script. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ 'March 3rd It's so quiet here tonight. Nothing at all like the hospitals that I'm used to. When I was in my residency, doing 36 hour shifts, you were never quite sure what time it was when you were awakened for an emergency. The same noises greeted me at 3 a.m. as at 3 p.m. Monitors beeping, patients crying out, carts clattering. Is it any wonder I chose the specialty that I did? For someone who appreciates peace and quiet as I do, I would give anything right now to hear a few dogs barking, a siren or two, a loud television in the background. How did you know? Somehow, you did. When I picked up the phone tonight and heard your voice, I almost wept. How did you get through to my room at almost midnight? You managed to charm one of the nurses before you left tonight, I'm sure. If I find out which one it was, I'll give her a big kiss. Anyway, thank you. I think I'll be able to sleep now. I gave in and took the sedative the nurse offered me. You were right, tomorrow is going to be a rough day, and I need to get some sleep. I'm not looking forward to this at all. Regardless of my stoic facade, I don't enjoy being poked and prodded any more than you. But I will keep a positive attitude. I have to believe this will work, even though my knowledge of medicine casts a shadow over my confidence. I know this is my last chance. I promise I'll give it everything I have, because you asked me to. And because I want to live.' ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ The young woman realized that she'd been holding her breath as she read, and let it out slowly. What was this? And who was it from? Obviously a journal of some kind, obviously old, and obviously well read, as evident from the well thumbed pages and cracked binding. Part of her felt as if she were peeping into someone's bedroom window. But her curiosity was too strong, and she continued to read. ~^~^~^~^~^~ 'March 7 It's been 4 days. I can sit up a bit today without losing my cookies. Not that there are any cookies to lose. God, for a hamburger! I think that now, while my stomach isn't whirling like that carnival ride where the bottom drops out. But give me 5 minutes. I know it's hard for you to sit here with me while I'm like this. It's hard for me to have you here. That first day, when I was so sick and I told you to leave - thank you for not listening to me. In my sane moments, I wanted to crawl under the bed in embarrassment. But now, I so look forward to you being here. Not only for myself, but for my mom. In the female Scully tradition, she tries to act brave and take care of everyone. But I worry about who will take care of her? She needs you too, Mulder.' ********** 'March 11 I just woke up from dreaming of my father. I thought he was sitting on the edge of my bed. He was telling me a story that he used to tell me when I was a little girl, about a sailor who was lost at sea, and how his spirit came back to watch over the woman he loved. I was a grown woman before I realized why he would tell such a sad story to a young girl. He wanted me to know that if anything ever happened to him, he would always be watching over us. I still wonder what he would think of me now. How's that for a daddy's girl? Even at this age, I'm still looking for his approval. Would he be proud of what I've done with my life? The person I've become? I can only guess.' ************ 'March 14 If you could live your life over, would you do anything differently? I used to think that I lived my life purposefully, weighing all the alternatives, making the correct choices. I never wanted to say that I had regrets. I figured that if I thought everything out top to bottom, I would make the best decisions I could at the time, and I would never have to look back and doubt myself. Then I met you. And your realm of extreme possibilities. If I thought that you would be reading this, I would be worried now that you were thinking I regret meeting you. Nothing could be further from the truth. I wouldn't trade these last 5 years of my life for anything. If I were granted one wish right now, it would be to make you believe that. The things I've seen, the things I've done, they are more than a lifetime's worth of experience. You opened my eyes to all of it. Remember that first day? When I came knocking on your office door, and you said "nobody in here but the FBI's most unwanted." I don't have your photographic memory, but I'll never forget that. I was so full of myself, I thought I was really going to give you a run for your money. I guess I did, in a way. I cringe now to think that I was part of their plan to wear you down, twist your work into meaningless tabloid garbage. And yet, you trusted me. It took me a long time to realize what that meant, coming from you. It was the greatest gift I've ever received. I have no regrets. Except maybe one thing. I always wished that I'd had a child. Not now, of course. The thought that I might leave a small child behind is too much to even contemplate. But- if things had been different. Maybe I'll still get that chance.' *************** 'March 17 It's been difficult today. I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes on the goal. You help keep me focused. I think you know how much I appreciate it - and you. I'm so sick of being sick. I want to turn my head without my stomach threatening to come up through my throat. I want to go outside, walk in the park, eat a chili dog. I miss my bed. I miss our office, with your papers scattered everywhere, dust an inch thick, the bad coffee. I swear I'm going to shoot the next person who comes in here with a bowl of jello. Thank God there's only 2 more days to go in this round of chemo. Thank God.' ********* 'March 18 What is it about a woman's hair that causes us such distress? I never considered myself a particularly vain person, yet seeing my hair come out in giant clumps in my hairbrush practically made me come undone today. And to have you walk in on me like that, well, that was just the what I needed to push me over the edge. I can't remember the last time I cried like that. What must have been going through your mind? If you were surprised at my outburst, you didn't show it. You just held me. Oh, Mulder. I never would have imagined you seeing me this way. I wanted to run, to hide. Not because of my hair .But emotionally, I feel so exposed. I'm trying so hard to keep myself focused, to keep the reigns tight. I don't want to cause you all any more heartache than I have already. I don't want you to worry about me falling apart.' ************ 'March 20 No more chemo! For 2 weeks, anyway. I just wish I could go home. But I know that it's best for me to stay here so they can pump me up for the next round. I'm not going to think about that now - all I'm going to think about is that pizza you promised me tomorrow. Why do they put mirrors in a place like this? I don't want to look at myself. I made my mother put a sheet over the one in the bathroom. I really look like hell. How can you stand to see me this way? You must have to brace yourself before you come in every day, you never know what hideous new discovery you're going to make. Dana with half of her hair gone. Dana puking her guts out. Dana with the eyes that look like they've been sucker punched by Mike Tyson. Dana looking like she just stepped out of a concentration camp. Jesus! I really hate this shit.' ********** 'March 23 I haven't thrown up in 3 days. 3 days! I'm starting to actua ed this journal. I need to feel connected to you when you're not here. Sometimes at night, when I'm lying here awake, I pretend that you're here with me. I can almost feel you if I really try. I can't help but think, when I feel you the closest, that you might be thinking of me at that same moment. I must be going nuts. I can't believe I'm even writing this down.' ********** 'March 28 How dare you accuse me of giving up. You don't know shit Mulder! I didn't give up - it's there in black and white! It's not my fault that you can't accept it. Another doctor even reviewed all the tests, just to shut you up. It's right there. But as usual, instead of facing facts, you have to run off - that's not what I need from you right now, can't you see that? The way you looked at me - like I let you down or something. I'm a doctor for christsake, I know how to interpret medical data. There is no reason to continue the treatment. I'm not going to put myself through that again for no reason! Damn you! I hope you *don't* come back! I'm going home tomorrow, and that's that. I'm not going to spend what little time I have left in this hellhole.' *********** 'April 1 Where are you? I've been calling your apartment for 3 days. Don't do this to me. Not now. I'm not fine Mulder - I'm not fine! I need you! My life is upside down. I packed a few bags to go stay with my mom, but I don't know if it was the right thing to do. I keep catching her looking at me... she always looks like she's going to burst into tears any minute. She doesn't understand why I won't let her tell anyone besides my brothers. I don't want to be on display for everyone to stop by and cry over! Why won't everyone just leave me alone? Jesus I can't believe this is happening. Every time I wake up I think for a minute it was just a dream - a nightmare. Then I look in the mirror and I know it is a nightmare - and I'm still in it. Where are you?' ********* 'April 3 Do you know what I really wanted to do when you showed up on my mom's doorstep today? I wanted to grab you around the neck and hold on for dear life. Sorry I decked you. No, I'm not! You deserved it. I thought you would never let go of me. I didn't want you to. You don't look at me that way anymore. That look that says I'm just one more person who's going to leave you. That's what hurt me so much Mulder. I'm not like them. I don't want to leave you! I'm so worried about you, how you will recover from this. I've been praying every night for you. I know you'd scoff at that. But it's all I can think to do.' ************ 'April 7 How do I do this? There should be a manual somewhere. What to do when you're going to die. Step 1... I don't even know where to begin. I just stay away from everyone, so that I don't have to see their faces. I'm so sick of seeing sad faces staring at me. Nobody else knows what to do either. I don't know if it's better or worse to have time... it would probably be easier on everyone concerned if it were quick, over like a snap of the fingers. How do I look into the eyes of the people who love me, and I love, and try to fathom leaving them forever? This isn't right. It's not fair to do this to my mom again. I can't believe that a loving God would do this to her. To me. I don't want to hear how everything happens for a reason. There isn't any reason good enough for this.' ************* 'April 12 While we were out walking today, I actually forgot for a few minutes. The air smelled so wonderful, and the trees were beautiful, the new leaves like emeralds hanging from the branches. You took my hand. Mine were so cold, and yours were so warm. So full of life. It was all I could do to keep from blurting out how much I love you. But I won't do that to you, not now. I can't bear to add that sorrow to all your others. Besides, there doesn't need to be words for what we have. I know you won't forget me. If I were a selfless person, I would go somewhere alone, and not put you all through this. I've thought about it. I even have the right cocktail of pills saved up, so that I know it would work. But I can't do it. I want every last second with all of you. I'm sorry I'm so selfish! If I had my way your face would be the last thing I see. I think I wouldn't be as frightened then.' ************ 'April 20 As I write this, I'm watching you while you sleep. I lit a candle because I didn't want to wake you with the lamp. The flickering shadows across your face only make you more beautiful. Your features aren't classically handsome, yet you are such an attractive man, the way you move, so sure of yourself, your expressive eyes, and that smile that always lifted me. And now, while you sleep, your hair falls across your smooth forehead and I want to brush it away like I would on a child, sweet and innocent. I can almost forget what you've been through, that you haven't lived in an innocent world since you were 12 years old. When you lay down next to me tonight, my heart didn't jump into my throat as I always expected that it would. My palms didn't get sweaty, I didn't start to melt. It felt as if we had held each other before, so comfortable and easy. I didn't mean to keep you here, but of course, you knew that. I just couldn't let go of your hand tonight. The nights are so hard for me sometimes. All day I have my family and you to keep me busy, I can find things to do. But at night it's so quiet, I can't keep my thoughts from wandering where I don't want them to go. I get scared. Yeah, me. I don't want my life to be meaningless. I was once so sure of heaven, God, my place in the world. As the time draws closer though, I'm afraid - is this it? Will everything I know, and everything that is me, just disappear? Is there anything behind the curtain of death? Or just silence and endless time? In the daylight, I believe I have accepted this, and I am ready for whatever comes. But in the dark, I want to cry, and scream out NO, I'm not ready to go! There must be some mistake! You've always been able to save me, Mulder. But you can't this time. I know you feel so helpless. But I will take what you can give now, wrapping myself in your shelter for as long as I can. You'll never know what it means to me. ' *************** 'April 29 I can't read much anymore. The headaches get really bad if I concentrate on the small print for too long. Damn it! My lifeline, my most treasured pastime, is now too painful. Reading is how I always escaped, even as a kid. I could go anywhere, do anything, be anyone. I had a great imagination once upon a time. I was *in* the stories. I could feel the soft red clay in Scarlett's hand in 'Gone With The Wind'. I traveled through "A Wrinkle In Time", journeyed the world with Jules Verne. No more. Just my memories left, grown up ones at that. Grown ups can't go nearly as far. Except for you, Mulder. You're the only grown up I know who can still fly on your imagination. Sometimes I've looked down on you for that, wishing you were more 'mature'. Now I envy you so much.' ************ 'May 3 I saw Missy tonight. I mean, it seemed so real. She was in my room, looking just as I remember her. She didn't speak, but I knew she was telling me something. She told me not to be afraid. I woke up crying, reaching out to touch her. Am I losing my mind? Is it the tumor? It would be so easy to believe that she was really here. So comforting. I just don't know. The things I've seen with you Mulder, the things I've experienced - it makes me want to believe.' ************** 'May 8 I wonder - what do you see when you look at me? Can you remember who I was before the word "cancer " was stamped across my forehead? I don't know if anyone does, not even me. My dreams, hopes, thoughts - they've all changed. It's not enough that this damn disease has to take my lif e a lot of things to do yet, a lot of things to see, I don't have time for this. I need to see the sun rise one more time. I need to look up at the stars again tonight, and wonder if your answers are there. Or mine. It's hard to imagine answers when there are so many questions. What happened to me? Who did it? Why? Where? As I try to bring a sense of closure to this life, there is an empty space that aches to be filled with some kind of resolution. Some explanation. My only solace is that I believe whoever is responsible will have to answer for it eventually. I hope you live to see it Mulder. I've tried not to be bitter. I haven't wasted my time on wishing for things that aren't possible. But I know it's eating away at you, and I hope for your sake that you will be able to bring this part of your life to a close. I'm afraid it's the only way you will ever be able to think of me without pain. I don't want that to be the legacy that I leave you. You have enough painful memories, I don't want to be one of them.' ************** 'May 15 I worry so much about my mom. I can't imagine living through what she has, and is about to. She has aged so much in the past year. Will you stay in touch with her, I wonder? Or will the memories be too much for you both? I do so wish you would watch out for her. I know, I have two brothers, and they love her. But they don't share the same things that you do with her, the same bond. I know one of her greatest regrets is that you never became her son-in-law! She loves you, Mulder. Hang onto that, it's so precious. If only you'd had parents like mine, what would you be today? Happier, I hope. And you would believe that you are deserving of love. That your worth isn't measured by your efforts to change the past, and make right a wrong that you had no control over. I wish I could make you believe that, Mulder. I've wished so many times that I could take the torment out of your eyes, and let them see life, the beauty and lushness of it, all the things that are right there in front of you. I hope to God that you don't miss it all. I hope you let someone love you. You deserve to have that.' ************** 'May 18 I've dreamed of Melissa several times again. Or are they dreams? I feel her, Mulder - I feel her right next to me. Could it be possible? Do I dare believe that I will see her again? I'm less afraid when she's here. Though we don't speak, I believe she is trying to ease this journey for me. Can love cross such a boundary? I know you believe it can. Melissa believed. Maybe you two weren't so crazy after all.' ************* 'May 24 I've decided that I will leave this journal to you, Mulder. I have already instructed my mother to give it to you. I need to know that you are sure of your place in my heart, even though I was never able to express it. In another lifetime, things would be different. *Have* been different. Surprised? I didn't believe it then, or for a long time after your regression hypnosis. But when faced with my own mortality, I've been forced to look deeper, and admit that I felt it too. Perhaps this is when we all find our spiritual truth. I have given up trying to reconcile this with my good Catholic upbringing. All I know is that we will be together again, as has always been our fate. It comforts me. As you sat with me today, you asked if there was anything I needed, as you do each time I see you. As usual, I said no, and it was true. To feel you holding my hand as I drift into a drugged slumber, and to see you when I awaken, and to know you watch over me as I sleep, gives me a peace that is all that I need now. It gives me the strength to close my eyes when I know it may be the last time that I do. But there *is* something that I need. Something you can do for me now that you could not do when I was with you. And it is very, very important to me. You must promise me, with all the trust that I have in you, that you will do it. Find a way to stop blaming yourself. I can't bear the thought of you carrying this burden forever, and I know that's exactly what you will do. So I am asking, pleading, please find a way. I know you can, for me. Grieve for me,Mulder. And then pick up the pieces and go on with your life. I know how very precious each day is. I will rest easier knowing that you will read these words and try to do this for me.' ************ 'The moon is so beautiful tonight - it's like a beacon, the entire landscape is lit up. A cloudless sky, I can see millions of stars. I love this front porch. I can't tell you how many of life's crises were worked through on this porch swing! My mom had the patience of a saint, that's all I can say. It's fitting that my life closes here, in this house. I know it's hard for all of you, but I need to be here. Having the aide come in will help, she can do the dirty work with me, then I can enjoy my time with all of you. We're moving my things into the downstairs bedroom tomorrow, it's getting too difficult for me to go up and down the stairs - I didn't think I was going to make it today. Another passage to mark this journey. I pray for all of you, and for myself, for the strength we'll need to accept what comes. My mother has promised me that she will not try any last minute heroic gestures. Tomorrow I will ask the same of you. I know you understand, and will honor my wishes. I'm feeling so much more at peace now. I can't really explain it, but I know that when you look at the stars like I am tonight, you will think of me, and I will know. As long as you are alive, part of me will live too.' ************ 'I know it won't be long now. I'm so tired, I'm ready for this fight to be over. I will rest well, Mulder, feeling your love with me. I hope my love will ease your restless soul after I'm gone, even though it could not during my life. I don't want you to feel sad whenever you think of me. I know it will take time, but eventually I hope that my memory will bring a smile to your face. You are the best friend I ever had, Mulder. You should take pride in that. I know I do. Friendship is taken for granted so often, casually pushed aside for things we deem more important. We have been guilty of that, as well. But to our credit, we've learned the value of our relationship. We may not speak of it, but we both know the truth. We were meant to cross paths, you and I, that's the one thing I'm sure of.' ************** 'When you sit and read to me, the sound of your voice soothes me more than you know. Eventually I pretend I'm asleep so that you can stop. I know what you're giving up to be here with me like this. You are a good man.' ************* 'I don't think I'll be writing more. Thank you Mulder. Remember I love you.' ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ It was the last entry. She flipped through the blank pages, hoping for more, for an end to the story. As she reached the last few empty pages, something fluttered down into her lap. A folded card, faded and brittle with age. On the front the words "In Memoriam" were printed in blue script. Carefully opening it, a small snapshot stared up at her. She removed the picture, bringing it closer to her in the dim light. It was a woman, very pretty, and although the colors were faded she could make out the red hair and blue eyes. She placed the photo on her lap, and read the name on the obituary inside the card. 'Dana Katherine Scully' "What have you got there?" The young woman looked up with a start, and quickly slid the picture into the book, laying it down on the floor to her right. "Nothing, Mom. Just a bunch of old stuff, nothing too important." Her mother climbed the last step and came near. Her eyes were soft with understanding. "Laura, it's been nearly a year. You don't have to protect me, honey. I'm OK, really. Let me see what you found." The older woman stretched her hand down to her daughter. Grudgingly, the dark haired girl picked up the book and handed it to her mother as she watched for a reaction. She didn't have to wait long. The older woman brought her hand to her mouth as she whispered a quiet "Oh my!" Laura stood and put her arm protectively around her mother's shoulders. "Are you alright? Sit down Mom." As they both sat down on the chest, the woman's right hand lightly fluttered over the cover of the book she was holding, but she did not open it. Finally, she spoke. "It's Dana Scully's journal." she said without looking at Laura. "You know about this?" "Of course, Laura. Your father and I didn't have any secrets from each other." "But when...I mean, who is she? Who was she to Dad?" Mrs. Mulder's eyes were moist as she turned to look at her daughter. "She was once your father's partner. Long before I knew him. She died of cancer at a young age. Very tragic." "Partner? It sure sounds like it was a lot more than that," Laura ventured, her voice barely hiding the relief she felt at discovering that her father had not lived some sort of secret life. "Yes." The words came slowly. "She was the love of his life." Laura's eyes widened. "But, Mom..." she hesitated, waiting for an explanation. "Oh, Laura," her mother said soothingly, placing her weathered hand on Laura's smooth one. "Your father and I had a wonderful life together. He loved me." She looked up, gazing out the filmy attic window. "He did." Silence hung between them for a moment. Laura waited. Her mother turned to her again. "I knew all this early on. I had to make a decision whether I could live my life as a close second." She smiled at Laura, squeezing her hand. "Obviously, you decided that you could." Her mother looked away again, picking through memories like stepping through a garden, choosing which to avoid, which to admire. "Your father was an extraordinary man. She was a part of what made him into the man that I fell in love with. Eventually, I learned to be grateful to her." "Did you... ever read it?" The woman smiled, and a shadow of the beautiful woman that she once was flickered across her face. She looked down at the book again, and Laura saw her gaze mist over, the years fading back. "No. It wasn't... meant for me." "But... the fact that he kept this, all these years... didn't it bother you?" Laura asked. Her mother carefully handed the book back to Laura. "I had my moments. I'm not a saint, you know. There were times when I would find him alone, and he had this look in his eyes... like the rest of the world didn't exist in that moment... and I knew he was thinking about her. At first it hurt, and angered me." She sighed. "But I loved him as he loved her, and I learned to accept what I couldn't change." She looked into Laura's eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes that always made her catch her breath at the resemblance. "Laura, promise me... don't let this make you think any less of your father. He was a good man, and he gave me everything that he could. The days you and your brother were born were the happiest days of his life. He loved you both so much." Laura smiled as her eyes filled. "I know he did Mom." She wiped away a single tear. "I miss him so much." "So do I, sweetheart." It was Mrs. Mulder's turn to hug her daughter. "All right, I think that's enough packing for one day. Come downstairs and we'll have a cup of tea." Laura nodded. She stood to follow her mother down the stairs, when she remembered that she was still holding the book. "Mom? What do you want me to do with this?" She hesitated. "Should I get rid of it?" Her mother pressed her lips together thoughtfully, then looked at Laura again. "Why don't you keep it?" she said, a trace of sadness in her voice. "A love like that deserves to be remembered." Laura looked at her mother with admiration. "You're a remarkable woman, Mom." The older woman shrugged and wiped at her eyes. "He was worth it." she said simply. *********** End Feedback to Linda at rn500@ozline.net (be gentle!)