***************************************************************** This author's e-mail address has changed to: rn500@usa.net ***************************************************************** From: "RN500" Date sent: Thu, 24 Jul 1997 01:14:23 -0400 Title: GETHSEMANE, Part 1 : Waiting In The Garden Author: Linda Phillips Rating: PG Classification: S / A / R Keywords: MSR Summary: My version of a continuation of 'Gethsemane' Disclaimer: The X-Files and it's characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Television. Comments to Linda at rn500@ozline.net *********************** Day 1 She couldn't get it dark enough. All the blinds were closed, drapes drawn. She wanted it as dark as night. As dark as death. But the sun hadn't quite set outside yet, and there were stubborn slivers of pale light creeping in still. She watched them as they made their slow dance across the walls. She pulled the blanket close around her, unable to stop the shivering that intermittently overtook her. The doorbell rang. She looked toward the door, deciding to ignore it. A knock. Then another, more insistent. A familiar voice. "Dana? Please open the door, it's Mom." With a sigh, Scully got slowly up from the chair, every movement an effort, like walking through water. She opened the door, and somewhere in what was left of her conscious mind was surprised to see her mother with tears on her cheeks, her eyes red and puffy, like she'd been crying for hours. "Oh Dana! Honey..." , and with that Scully was wrapped in her mother's embrace, in a safe place that had soothed a thousand tears. But there would be no comfort there this night.There was no escape from this nightmare. Scully put her arms around her mother and held on for dear life.The pair moved to the sofa and sat down. "Dana, why didn't you call me?" Scully shrugged and shook her head, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I don't know mom. I just...how did you find out?" "Mr. Skinner called me. He told me..." Margaret Scully stifled a sob, took a deep breath, and continued. "He told me what happened. He said he was worried about you, he'd been calling all day and there was no answer. Oh, Dana, I just can't believe it. I just can't believe it." Scully stood and walked across the room, kneading her fingers as she spoke. "Well, believe it. I saw it with my own eyes. They called me to identify his body." "Dana, did you have any idea...I mean what happened last night that...." Margaret couldn't finish the question, afraid to hear the answer. She just kept playing the phone call she received last night over and over in her mind. < 'Mrs. Scully, please. I have to know the truth. I need to know about Dana's treatment...her prognosis...she doesn't tell me anything....I need to know...please.' > Mulder had sounded so concerned, so upset. She *had* told him the truth, even though Scully had specifically asked her not to. she asked herself for the hundredth time. "I don't know mom....I can't talk about it right now, I just can't." Scully closed her eyes and pressed her palms against them. No tears. Still no tears. It hurt too much for tears, there was no well that ran that deep. She had almost lost it earlier today, in front of the Bureau committee she had been summoned to. She had almost finished her statement to them when her eyes blurred, and her chin started to tremble. She had choked it back then. And now, when she wanted to weep and scream and grieve, her body seemed bent on torturing her by denying her that release. "But, Dana, there must have been something..." Scully kept her back to Margaret. "Mom, please!" How could she possibly put into words what had occurred in the last forty eight hours? How her life, and Mulder's, had completely come apart at the seams? How, without knowing it, she'd witnessed the destruction of the man she loved? And even contributed to it? How she kept asking herself, 'If only...I hadn't brought Kritchgau to him...I hadn't left him alone...I hadn't told him that they'd given me the cancer to make him believe...I had told him I loved him.' The list seemed endless. And pointless, now. Scully finally turned to her mother, who sat with her elbows on her thighs, hands clenched and tight against her lips, her gaze a million miles away. Margaret's trance was broken with Scully's movement. She looked up at her daughter, suddenly mindful again of Scully's sorrow. "Oh, Honey. I'm sorry." Margaret stood and went to her, wiping at her eyes. "Come and sit down. I'm going to make us some tea." She put her arms around Scully and carefully directed her to the sofa. Scully sat and leaned her head back, unseeing, her body as numb as the ice that had started this long road to hell. ************** Day 2 Scully woke with a start, pain shooting up the back of her neck as she jerked her head up from it's resting place on the back of the chair. "Mom?" She looked around for a moment before remembering that she had sent her mother home many hours ago. Massaging her stiff neck, she realized she must have fallen asleep in the chair. The apartment was dark except for a single lamp glowing dimly in the living room. Scully sighed. She stretched her cramped legs and stood up, walking to the window. The sun was starting to cast a pink glow to the east. Another whole day to get through. She didn't have a clue how she was going to do it. She went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. She poured in the chocolate almond flavored grounds, a tiny smile tilting the corners of her mouth as she remembered how Mulder hated this stuff. He use to tease her about her 'girly girl' coffee. The fragrance filled the kitchen, for a moment reminding her of a real home. Before it was finished she stuck a cup under the drip and filled it. The mug was warm and Scully held it tightly in both hands, hoping some of it would transfer to the rest of her shivering body. She walked to the sofa and wrapped the blanket around her again. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed her stack of photo albums on the lower shelf of an end table. Kneeling down next to the table, she pulled them out. As the pages turned Scully was occasionally transported out of her misery for a fraction of a moment , remembering a cheerful family occasion, a happy memory. She saved the most recent book for last. Photos from not so long ago, yet they seemed almost a lifetime away. A few from her early days at the academy. she thought. The next page she turned slowly, knowing what would appear. Mulder. She had brought him to her mother's home last Thanksgiving. Melissa was gone, and Dana had been the only Scully child able to be home for Thanksgiving. She knew Mulder didn't do much for holidays, and it had seemed so sad for him to be alone, with his mother gone out of town with friends. So he had come with her, reluctantly, not sure if he'd be comfortable spending a holiday "like normal people". Her mother had invited a few friends who were also alone for the holiday, and , as usual, had cooked enough food for the whole neighborhood. Mulder had fit right in, and later declared that he'd enjoyed himself tremendously. Scully remembered how she'd glanced at him secretly a few times during the night when he was engaged in conversation with someone, helping her mother clean up, eating another slice of pie...and had thought how nice it was. How...normal. Like he belonged there. Margaret Scully had always had a soft spot for Mulder, and she had treated him like a favored son, fussing over him. Mulder had lapped it up, she thought with a sad chuckle. Her mother had insisted on taking some pictures of everyone and there were several of Mulder. And her favorite, though she hadn't let on when she had shown them to him; a candid shot of the two of them on the sofa, wine glasses in hand, talking and laughing. She traced his form with her finger. She'd had cancer then, though she hadn't known it yet. Before cancer. Before Kritchgau. Before Mulder had given up hope. Now, the after. And, as only she and her mother knew, the after wasn't going to last very long. "Thank God." she said under her breath. Scully closed the book and placed it back on the shelf, the others on top. A hot bath. that would kill another hour. Then maybe a sleeping pill. Or two. Maybe that would get her through this day. She didn't want to think about tomorrow yet. Slowly struggling to her feet, she made her way to the bathroom and turned on the faucets. While the water ran, she opened a drawer in her vanity and reached all the way to the back. , pulling out a large prescription bottle. She read the label, knowing full well what it said. 'Nembutal 100 mg' she thought. She continued to stare at the bottle. She closed her eyes. Was it worth it? Who was she staying for? She knew the answer to that. Her mother. Although after she'd explained her final prognosis to Margaret not long ago, she really felt that her mother would understand, if it came to that. She wouldn't agree with it, but she would understand, and forgive, Scully was confident of that. Margaret knew her daughter so well, and Scully was sure that her mother understood that there was no worse ending for her than to be wracked with pain and completely dependent. But not now. Not yet. She took two pills out and swallowed them quickly, washing them down with the last of her coffee, and carefully stashed the rest away in their hiding place. Slipping into the tub, she let the water come up over her chin. She stayed that way for forty five minutes, until the water was getting cold, and blessed sleep was starting to creep into the edges of her consciousness. Barely drying off, Scully slid between the covers, with a silent prayer she knew there was no answer for. ********************** When Scully finally woke, it was late afternoon. She felt disoriented upon awakening, and it took several minutes for her to remember where she was and what day it was. There was a familiar aroma in the air, although she couldn't quite place it. It smelled wonderful. She turned over in bed and a wave of nausea overtook her. Stumbling to the bathroom, she retched over and over, but her stomach had been empty for ...a day? Two days? Then she noticed the drops of blood splashing into the toilet. Grabbing some tissues, Scully wiped the blood from her nose. She finally looked up to see her mother standing in the doorway, her eyes full of concern. Margaret quickly wet a washcloth and handed it to Scully, who wiped her pale face as she sat down on the floor. When Scully thought she had regained her composure, she tried to stand, but her legs felt like they weren't quite under her control. Margaret was instantly at her side. "Dana, what is it? What's wrong?" Margaret supported Scully back to her bed. "I think I'm just weak, mom. I'll be Ok. Just let me lay down." "Dana, when did you eat last? Or drink anything?" "Um, I don't know for sure..." Margaret propped Scully up in bed with some pillows. "I'm going to bring you something to eat. You stay put." "I'm not hungry mom." Margaret turned to her with her face set angrily, tears in her eyes. "Damn it Dana! I'm not going to let you do this to yourself. You can't bring him back by killing yourself! You're already weak, don't try to tell me different. I see what's been happening to you the last few weeks. You stay there, I'll be right back." Scully sighed and settled back into the pillows. In a few minutes Margaret returned with a tray with orange juice and her favorite homemade muffins. "So that's what I smelled." Scully managed a feeble smile. "It smells wonderful Mom. Thank you." She sipped slowly from the orange juice, not wanting it to come up again. Her mother sat on the edge of the bed while Scully picked at the muffins. She looked up at Margaret. "How long have you been here?" "An hour or so. I came earlier when you didn't answer your phone, but you were sound asleep, and I didn't want to wake you. I got worried when you still weren't answering so I came back a while ago. Have you been sleeping all day?" "Yeah- I took something." "I figured as much." Margaret sighed heavily. "I wish I knew what to tell you Dana. Something to make it easier. But I know from experience. There isn't anything, but time." Their eyes met, Margaret's clearly telling Scully that she wished she hadn't said that. Scully reached over and put a hand on her mother's arm. "It's Ok, Mom. It's Ok." They sat in silence for a long time, both lost in their own memories. Scully finally finished one muffin and drank the last of the juice. Margaret took the tray away, and Scully sank back into the bed. Margaret sat by her side, stroking her hair like she did when Dana was a child, trying to get her back to sleep after a bad dream. Eventually Scully's breathing became slow and regular. Only then did Margaret Scully let the tears fall. **************** Day 3 Journal Entry Well. You had the last word, didn't you Mulder. The final word. You ditched me again you bastard. Did you know that they made me come and identify your body? Who did you think they would get to do that besides me? I suppose you didn't think about that. But that's all I can think about. There should have been someone else, don't you see? But they called me. Were they thinking that I would come down and see you and say "yes, that's him" and go on about my business? Why didn't they call Skinner, or your mother? But you must have listed me as your emergency contact on some stupid card in your wallet or something. Why wasn't it an emergency before you pulled the trigger, Mulder? As hard as I'm trying not to do this to myself, my mind keeps going over and over and over...were you thinking of me? Did you want to call but you were afraid? That's what hurts the worst, to think that you wanted to call me, but your damn self imposed vault of guilt kept you locked away from me. Damn you! Damn you damn you damn you! You're so egocentric - you know, things DO happen in the universe without you being the direct cause. I should have talked to you more about it. I should have somehow made you believe that my illness wasn't your fault. It's their fault. Those bad men that we dreamed about when we were kids, the ones our mothers assured us would never touch us because they would always keep us safe. But how could they know, Mulder? How could they know such evil really existed in the world? You're mom learned eventually, by hard experience. But me? I never knew until I came to the FBI. That's when I discovered the depths that human wretchedness can reach. But you knew. You knew since you were 12 years old. It made you old before your time, and that's what I hate them for the most. It's been 3 days now, I think. The first day was a complete blur. After I went in front of the committee, I came home and I haven't left since. I had to tell them the truth Mulder. I had to tell them my truth. I feel no guilt about that, because I know that you would expect no less of me. Only incredible sadness. How I wish our truths could have been the same. My mom has been here several times. She wanted to stay with me, but I don't want anyone intruding on my misery. So she comes in, makes me tea, sits with me while my silence fills the room. She's such a wonderful mother. I'd always hoped I could be as good a mother as she is. She's been my only contact with the outside world. My answering machine is full of messages, but I don't have the slightest interest in listening to them. I did overhear one though, Skinner calling to tell me that the funeral is tomorrow. I'm not going. I can't imagine seeing you that way. I would break into a million pieces. There's no sense in me going just to make a scene in front of everyone. OK. How am I supposed to continue? How am I supposed to get up in the morning, and get dressed, and eat, and put one foot in front of the other? I can't do it. I know people think I'm strong, always so...cold, impenetrable, nothing shakes me for long. I bounce back, push it down, keep going. But you knew better. At least I thought you did. And now, there's no one left that knows me. You left me alone Mulder! How could you do it? I'm as much to blame. I couldn't tell you so many things. No, not couldn't. Wouldn't. Wouldn't let my guard down long enough. I was so afraid. I'm afraid to be weak, and to admit to someone that they mean something to you, well, you might as well show them where to stab you. And you mean so much to me. More than a friend, a colleague, a partner. Sometimes I would look at you and know that you knew what I was thinking. It was a crack, just a tiny crack, in my armor. But you found it, you looked for it. Words weren't always necessary with us. And I let that go. God, how stupid! How supremely senseless. To waste what time we had like that. If I could just have you back for 5 minutes! I would tell you everything. I would hold you and not let you go. The angels would have to take me with you. I love you Mulder. I keep trying to tell myself that you knew, but it's not enough! I want to hear me say it, and see you hear it. But that's not going to happen now. Forgive me. I had another secret from you Mulder. A secret that haunted me so, I couldn't tell you. I'm going to be with you soon. I don't know how long, but not soon enough for me now. That's what I'm holding on to. I don't care what the difference is in our religious views, I believe we will be together again. The first thing I'm going to do when I see you is kick your butt for doing this to me! Then I'm going to hold you forever. I have to believe. I'll believe enough for us both. Wait for me. Please wait for me. ************** "Dana, it's Mr. Skinner again. Maybe you should pick it up honey." Margaret said. "He's called at least three times today." Scully looked up at her mother, shaken from her meditation by Margaret's voice. She'd spent most of the day in this same spot, on the sofa, alternately staring out the window and fitfully napping. Her strength, which had been slowly dwindling in the past few weeks, now seemed at an all time low. It took too much energy even to talk, so she'd remained quiet most of the day, only speaking when Margaret asked her a question. "Mom, I told you, I don't want to talk to anyone." "But, Dana, it might be important..." "I know what he wants, Mom! I heard the message he left this morning. I'm not going to the funeral tomorrow." Scully turned her face to the window again. "I just can't." The phone rang again, only minutes after it had stopped. They both turned to look at it, then Margaret turned to Scully. "Dana..." "You answer it Mom. Tell him." Scully couldn't hear her mother softly speaking into the phone into the next room. But in a moment, she was back, her hand covering the receiver. "He insists on speaking with you. He says it's urgent." With a sigh, Scully reached her hand toward her mother, who placed the phone in it with a look of apology. "Hello?" "Agent Scully, it's Walter Skinner. I'm sorry to be so insistent, but it's very important that I speak with you." "I'm not going." There was hesitation on the other end of the line. When he finally spoke, Skinner's voice was soft. '"Agent Scully, listen to me for a minute. I would very much like you to go with me. I think that it's important that we...show solidarity now, show support...for Agent Mulder. The rumors are already flying. People are surmising all kinds of things, I'm sure. I just want them to see us together, to know that...we still believe in him. I think he deserves that." Scully couldn't speak for a moment. Skinner was right, of course. She would have to find the strength, somehow. "Alright. Will you pick me up? Yes. I'll be ready." ************** Day 4 The day was cool and cloudy, with a gentle rain falling intermittently. thought Scully as she sat watching out the window for Skinner's car. To Scully's surprise, Margaret Scully pulled up in front of the apartment. Scully got up to open the door for her. "Mom, what are you doing here?" "You didn't think I was going to let you go through this alone did you? Mr. Skinner won't mind." "No, I'm sure he won't." Scully reached up and wrapped her arms around her mother's neck. "Thank you. I love you Mom." Walter Skinner walked up to Scully's door as mother and daughter were still in an embrace. He cleared his throat. Scully looked over at him and stepped back. Their eyes met in mutual understanding. "Thank you for coming with me Agent Scully." Scully took his hand in both of hers. "It's I who should thank you." Skinner mumbled something about how they should get going. Scully held on to her mother as they walked to the car. ************** Scully correctly surmised that the church would be full, after noting the full parking lot. Assistant Director Skinner had parked the car, and they all began their long walk together. The rain had let up for the moment. As they approached the front doors, Scully felt her stomach roll. She slowed her pace without realizing it. Skinner looked at her, his eyes urging her on. They walked up the steps and through the huge doors. Scully thought almost angrily. Then her eyes went straight ahead, down the long aisle to where the casket lay. Her feet froze. Her heart was beating so hard it was drowning out everything else. She started to back away. "No..." She felt Skinner's hand firm on her arm. She locked her eyes on his. He placed her left forearm on his right and interlocked their fingers, all the while keeping his gaze on her steady, strong. "Do this for him Dana. I know you can." Scully nodded and turned to look forward. Leaning on Skinner's arm, she willed her feet to walk, her mother following close behind. She felt the eyes on her. she wondered. She could make out Mulder's face now. It was pale, with a barely visible swelling near the right temple. she thought. She came within arms length and stopped. Slowly moving forward, she reached out to touch him. She heard her mother gasp behind her. "Dana, no...", a hand on her arm. Scully shook it off without responding. She had to touch him. That's the only way she would believe it. Cautiously, she touched his hair, his cheek, then his hands, so serenely placed on his still abdomen. Cold. Soulless. she thought for the thousandth time. She brought her hand back and wearily turned to find a seat for the service. She took two steps, then stopped. "Wait..." Scully reached up and released the clasp of the chain around her neck, took it off and reconnected it. For a moment she fingered the small gold cross dangling on the end of the gleaming chain. Then, turning back, she gently placed it in Mulder's hands. Skinner's gentle tug on her arm pulled her back to the moment, and she followed him to where Mrs. Mulder sat in the front row, motioning for the three of them to join her. ************* "Mom, really, I'd rather be alone right now." Scully could barely contain the anxious edge to her voice. Somehow, she'd made it through the services, although it was mostly a blur. Skinner had driven them home, and walked she and Margaret to Scully's door. Scully had unlocked it, hoping that her mother wouldn't follow her in, but they both did. Skinner had retreated to wait discreetly in the doorway while Margaret spoke to Scully. "Dana, are you sure? Honey, I don't think it's a good idea..." "Mom, please. I promise I'll call you if I need anything." Her mother looked anxious. "Promise me you'll eat something." "I promise, Mom. I will." With a sigh, Margaret Scully took her daughters hands in her own, and kissed her on the cheek. With a last worried look, she turned to go. "I'll walk your mother to her car Agent Scully." Skinner said, fumbling for the right words. "Please call and let me know how you're doing, and if you....when you're ready to come back." Scully nodded. "I will. Thank you." The door closed quietly as they left. Scully leaned back on it and closed her eyes, remaining there for a few moments as she gathered her thoughts. She headed for the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator door, she felt her stomach churning. She closed the door and leaned on her elbows on the counter. Images were flashing through her mind.Mulder's still body on the floor of his apartment....the pool of blood...the gun near his hand... A tear fell, it's path burning down her cold cheek. "Oh God....", a whisper became a moan...."Oh God, Oh God..." Scully covered her face with her hands in a futile attempt to stop the flood and the cries. Four days of frozen emotions thawed and rushed to be released. Her legs grew weak, and she slid down to the floor, her sobs so loud that she didn't hear the knock on the door. The door opened and she heard Skinner's voice "Agent Scully? I think I left my umbrella..." She looked up, sight blurred by grief, to see him staring wide eyed at her. He came to her side and knelt on the floor, unsure of what to do or say, his eyes betraying his compassion. Finally, he put his arms around her, and she let herself be comforted by his strong embrace. He could barely make out her words, cried into his shoulder. "I want him back...I want him back..." ******************* The first thing Scully felt was the hand on her face, the touch warm on her cool skin. She opened her eyes to see a figure sitting on the edge of her bed. Curiously, she wasn't afraid. Squinting in the dark, she could make out his features. "Mulder?" No answer, but he took her hand in his. She remained still, trying to make sense of it. "What...you're dead! I saw you! How can you be here?" "But I *am* here Scully." "Oh God!" Scully sat up in bed, her heart beating out of her chest, gasping for breath. She looked around, knowing full well that there was no one there, and yet... "Mulder?" She made a conscious effort to slow her breathing. She felt her hand where she had imagined Mulder had touched her. With a sigh, she lie back down, with a tiny hope that the dream would come again. *************** Day 17 Scully was gently awakened by the doorbell, muffled through her bedroom door. She heard her mother talking to someone, her words low and restrained. Scully stretched and smiled a bit. She had been roused from another dream of Mulder. Although she hesitated to call them dreams, they were so very real. Since the first time he had appeared to her on the night of his funeral, the dreams had come almost nightly. And more recently, during the daylight hours while she catnapped, as she so often did now. Even though she knew, intellectually, that he couldn't possibly be alive, she always awoke with the smallest expectation that he would still be sitting there, watching her. At first she had analyzed the hell out of it, coming up with every possible explanation for the palpable feel of the dreams. Now, she no longer cared. It didn't matter if it was the tumor causing her to hallucinate, or if she was really going crazy. The dreams comforted her, and she welcomed them. Her mother gently opened Scully's bedroom door. "Oh - I didn't know if you were awake. Mr. Skinner is here. Do you want to see him?" "Yes. Yes, thanks Mom." "Ok, I'll send him in." "No! No. I'll come out there. Tell him I'll be just a minute." "Are you sure you're up to it Dana?" "Mom, I'll manage. I've got a little pride left you know." Margaret smiled. "I certainly know that," and she closed the door. Slowly, Scully made her way to the edge of the bed and stood up. It was that standing up part that was getting more difficult. Her head always swam for a moment, then slowly her vision righted itself. She put her robe on, and stopped at the mirror. she thought, as she took in her pale, thin face, eyes dark rimmed. She splashed her face with cold water, and ran a brush through her hair, it's once vibrant red now dull and dry. As Scully came out of her bedroom, she could see her mother watching her every move, waiting for another stumble in her gait. Scully moved slowly, holding furniture to keep steady. She kept her head up and her back straight, determined to keep some semblance of dignity in front of the man who had been her superior. Skinner rose when he saw her, stepping forward as she neared him and offering her an arm to lean on as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As they sat down, Skinner pointed to a box on the kitchen table. "I finally cleaned out Agent Mulder's part of the office." Skinner said. He always spoke as if he were fully expecting her to return to work eventually. "His mother took a few things, and I thought you might like to have the rest." Her eyes rested on the box and suddenly they were burning, holding back tears. She looked at him. "Thank you so much. You've been so thoughtful to me through all of this, sir. I appreciate it more than I can say." Skinner looked away, clearing his throat. "I don't think I've ever said this to you Agent Scully, but you and Agent Mulder are two of the finest agents I've ever had the privilege of working with. And two of the finest people." Scully smiled. "Thank you sir." Skinner stood and made his excuses to go. It was evident that he felt uncomfortable around her now that Scully's illness was so obvious. They made their goodbyes, and he was quickly gone. "Do you want me to bring this box over to you?" Margaret asked hesitantly. Scully took a deep breath and let it go. "Yes, please Mom." Margaret placed the box on the sofa next to Scully, then suddenly decided that she needed to go to the market right that minute to buy a few things. Scully was grateful that her mother was so considerate of her feelings, although , she thought with a chuckle. Scully waited until her mother had gone before she opened the box. Sadly, she thought of how unfair it was to have one man's life work reduced to some items in a box. She slowly went through the papers on top; some newspaper clippings; notes on open cases, now never to be finished. Chewed up pencils. A half eaten bag of sunflower seeds. Rubber bands, bent paper clips, all the usual stuff. She unrolled his "I Want To Believe" poster. she thought with a sigh. < I really did.> Some silly figurines of aliens, space ships, all the little things she had seen every day, so often that she really never noticed them. She reached into the far corner and pulled out a dried rose petal. The one she had left on his desk when she had gone to Philadelphia and met Ed Jerse. She clearly remembered throwing it into the trash when she returned from that trip, battered and bruised...and tattooed. It brought back such awful memories. There hadn't been another time when there had been such tension between them. Scully slowly turned it over in her hands. It was so delicate. Yet it had managed to survive from wherever it had come, to the memorial wall where she had found it, to her pocket, the trash can, Mulder's desk. Scully thought with a smile. She rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes. Another headache was closing in. She hoped it wouldn't be a bad one, because the pain medicine made her so groggy that she didn't like to take it too often. Leaning her head back on the sofa, Scully kept her eyes closed and let her mind wander. She had trained herself to only let pleasant memories in now, it helped keep her mind off the pain. Scenes from her past wound by her like a lazy river as she let herself drift off. The daydreaming was interrupted by Margaret's return. Scully opened her eyes and brought herself back to the present. Holding her hand up to her mother, Scully motioned for her to come to her side. "What is it honey?" Margaret asked, taking Scully's hand. "Mom, take me home." ********************** Day 20 Most of her time was spent here in bed now, in her old room. Margaret and her brother Bill had moved the bed so that she could look out the window, across the lawn and her mother's garden. She dozed off and on all day, somewhere between sleep and complete consciousness. Since coming home, her strength had drained dramatically. She no longer ate much of anything. It seemed too much effort. And sometimes just turning her head brought on such a wave of nausea that it made the thought of food unbearable. Her mother had encouraged her with all her favorite foods that first day. Finally , Scully had been able to make her understand that she was only making it worse. Scully was aware that there wasn't much time left. Her family floated in and out, and she heard a fairly constant buzzing of voices in the house. Mostly, mercifully, she slept. The pain wasn't unbearable. She was at peace. She was ready, as ready as she could be. Often, as she drifted off, wondering if this would be the time that she didn't awaken, her last thoughts were **************** Day 22 About 2 a.m. A light on. Her mother's face near her. "Dana...Dana, can you hear me? Honey, we're going to take you to the hospital, Ok? There's something the doctor wants to try..." Her own voice, slow, the sound not quite right. "No..no...Mom, you promised." "Dana, it's not like that. Mr. Skinner's here. He says there's a treatment that they've been holding out on you...something new." "No...not going to the hospital. You promised..." Her mother was crying. Then there was Skinner, leaning over her. What was he doing here? "Dana, it's Walter Skinner. You have to listen to me. Some things have happened. I'll explain to you later. But right now, you *have* to trust me. Please. Let me help you." Her mother's voice in the background..."Just take her, for God's sake!" Someone was lifting her, she couldn't fight. Carrying her to... where? The sound of her own voice: "Damn you! Damn all of you!" Then darkness, and silence. ********** Stay tuned for part 2 - "Field Of Blood"