From kelli@edgenet.net Thu Feb 13 13:01:42 1997 Oops, helps when you remember to attach the story! -------- POST MEMENTO MORI-- SPOILER ALERT "What Remains" by Kelli Rocherolle kelli@edgenet.net 2/97 Angst, angst, and more angst. What an episode. Those two just break my heart. And please tell me we didn't leave Mulder standing there in the hospital corridor fondling Scully's ova. The man has rescued what very well might be his future children... but just where is he keeping them?? In the fridge next to the take out cartons? "Excuse me, Mulder, but are those my ova in your refrigerator? I've been looking everywhere for them..." Oh man, you can see what this episode has done to me! Anyway, I was inspired to write this short story after watching and thought I'd share. Feedback is always welcome. Thanks. *The following story is based on characters copyrighted by Ten *Thirteen Productions, created by The Man, Chris Carter, and *who are the property of the Fox network and are used without *permission. No infringement intended. ****************************** What Remains It was a bad day. It hadn't started out that way; in fact, things were going well. They had just started on a new case and had spent a long day interviewing leads. Of course, once they got back to the office they could always count on a couple of hours of debate on which leads to follow. So, two sodas and a pizza later, they were ready to call it a night. And that's when everything started falling apart. "That's curious..." Scully's tone was light and teasing. "What is?" "Oh nothing, just this lead you're wanting to pursue taking us right outside of Memphis and it happening to be the week of the big 'Love Me Tender-- The King Lives' festival..." She was perched on the desk he was sitting behind. His eyes smiled back at her. "Striking coincidence, isn't it?" She smiled then, one of those full, bright smiles that he had come to treasure because of its rarity. And that's when he saw it. The blood. A thin trickle just between her nose and upper lip. She must have seen him pale, because she brought her finger up to see what he was staring at. "Oh--" Mulder was devastated. It had been months since they'd seen any sign of her illness... the initial leads they'd pursued had produced nothing but dead ends, and in that resulting state of helplessness, the time passed along quietly. And maybe in that time they'd let themselves pretend she wasn't sick. The blood was a grim reality- check. He watched as she reached for a tissue and wiped away the blood, staring at the bright red drops as they stained the tissue. "There." Scully tossed the crumpled tissue into the waste basket and glanced up at Mulder, knowing what she would see in his eyes when she did. "Mulder?" "It's uh..." he looked away briefly, "it's been a long time..." He was visibly shaken. She nodded. "I know. It's okay." He didn't look convinced. "Really Mulder. I'm fine." Whatever she said, she knew she would not be able to assure him. The best course of action would be distraction. "So, are you going to tell me what to expect in Memphis?" It hit her then, the second she tried to stand, a mass exodus of blood from her head that caused her to sway. For a moment, she thought she was going to hit the floor, the linoleum was rushing at her top speed... then she felt Mulder at her side, his and strength steadying her and helping her back to her feet. But his voice was panicked. "Scully?" "I'm okay," she said weakly. But this time, even she didn't quite believe it. **************************** "I need some help here!" Mulder yelled to whoever might hear him as he pulled Scully through the doors to the ER. She had been fading in and out of consciousness all the way over. The panic he felt had forged a solid lump in his throat. No no no... not yet, please not yet. He hadn't had a chance to say good bye... There was no excuse for it. Maybe it was denial, he didn't know. He'd had months to tell her... but never seemed to get around to saying it. And now, what if it was too late? He watched in shock and horror as Scully was helped onto a stretcher and wheeled away. He started after them, taking hold of her hand and walking alongside the gurney as they moved into a restricted area. A young man held up a hand to him. "Sir you can't come in here. If you'll just wait here someone will come out as soon as possible and--" Mulder shook his head at him. He would not leave her side. No way he was going to miss what might very well be his last chance to say good bye. He wanted to be there the next time she came to. God there had to be a next time. It wasn't until he was under threat of being physically removed by security that he acquiesced and retreated to the corridor. He brought both hands up to his face and watched through a window as she disappeared into an elevator. Not yet. Please, please not yet... NO. He would not let himself think that way, would not let himself believe this was it. ***************************** Giving information to the charge nurse was a necessary distraction. But as best he did to give her what little they knew about Scully's condition, he was finding it hard to focus on the questions. His concentration was shot and he kept looking over his shoulder at the doors to the restricted area. The woman was starting to lose patience with him and decided to turn to the demographic information. "Relation?" Mulder blinked at her. "Relation?" The woman waited for his response. "She's my friend." It seemed a horribly inadequate description of what she was to him. "Next of kin?" "Margaret Scully-- her mother." Mulder finished giving the required information and was instructed to wait in the nearby lounge. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long, and soon an aide approached and told him he could see her. Upstairs, the ward was quiet and dimly lit. Mulder went to her door and opened it slowly, the dread of not knowing what to expect making him tremble. Once inside, he closed the door and locked it behind him. He didn't want this time with her to be interrupted. She was awake. Lying in the bed as the soft light illuminated her, she turned to look at him. "I called your Mom, she's on her way." He ran a hand over his face. It was awful to see him this way; the pain he was feeling was evidenced in his red, swollen eyes, in his unsteady tone. "Mulder..." she outstretched a hand to him. He came to her, his posture slumped and defeated, and Scully worried for a minute that he would fall apart before reaching her bed. His hand was warm in hers. "Sit down," she said gently. He asked the question, denial concealing the answer he already knew. "What is it Scully? What does this mean?" "It means... the end is coming." The tears blurred his eyes and twisted his features. "No Scully," he whispered. "Yes Mulder--" "No." His voice was stronger this time. "Not yet. You're not ready to go yet." Her voice was gentle. "*You're* not ready, Mulder." "Scully--" "We knew this was coming Mulder." "It's too soon." "It's not too soon. It's been months... Penny, the others, they didn't make it past a year. We knew it could be sudden like this." "But it's different with you Scully. I told you-- the other women, their tumors were accelerated by those in charge of the project. You didn't undergo that treatment, you should have more time." Scully regarded him fondly. "You're always waiting for your miracle." She took a deep breath and fiddled with the edge of her sheet. "I've always admired your faith." A lot of good that faith had done him. He stared at her, her features calm and beautiful in the impending peace of death. She didn't look sick at all. But when her eyes met his again, he could see something not quite right in her eyes, something missing... some small part of her that was already slipping away from him. He leaned forward and reached for her, holding her face in his hands. Their eyes held. As much as she was trying to be strong for Mulder, she did not want to go either. The thought of him going on alone made her sick with worry. Who would take care of him? "I'm sorry, Mulder." Her voice broke, and she swallowed before continuing. "I'm sorry I can't be with you the rest of the way," she whispered. He shook his head at her, unable to respond as the pain constricted his throat. Even now, it was so hard for him to say it, to tell her how he felt. And so he showed her with a tender kiss to her cheek. He lingered there, relishing her warmth and her scent and his heart breaking with the thought of never being able to experience either again. He kissed the side of her nose, inhaling deeply, then her cheek again, and again, wanting to imprint the sensation in his memory forever. And then, almost without realizing what he was doing, he kissed her mouth. Scully closed her eyes as he kissed her face, the tears rolled back into her hair. And when his lips touched hers, it didn't surprise her; it felt right. But what she didn't expect was the feeling that followed. For while it seemed to start out in warmth and friendship, in a second it changed, and there was something distinctly sexual in the gesture. And it wasn't wrong. It was wonderful, because it made her feel alive. Mulder deepened the kiss through the heat of tears. He had surprised himself by kissing her that way but he knew, like she did, that it was right. In these last moments together he wanted to be as close to her as possible, and in those kisses he could be. His lips drifted down her throat, to the warmth of her neck. The more he kissed her, the more he was tortured by what might have been. Four short years. He had allowed himself to think about what things might be like for them, far in the future, never imagining he would be robbed of it so entirely. In his past, in his future, there might be sex and casual flirtations, but there never had been and never would be another Dana Scully. The desire he was feeling was a cruel, agonizing taste of something he knew he would never have. And now, the arousal that might have shown him such pleasure only brought him sorrow. He shifted down until his head was resting on her stomach and hugged her close. Her hands caressed his hair soothingly as he whispered to her over and over: "Don't go, Scully. Please don't go yet. I'm not ready, I need more time. Please. Please don't go." "I'm sorry, Mulder," she said thickly. "Please don't go." "I'm sorry." It was his fault. This was all his fault. When she'd come to him that first time after meeting the women in Allentown, he should've listened. He should've started investigating then. At the very least, he might have been able to buy her more time. How was he ever going to be able to live with that knowledge? He looked up at her, wanting to look into her eyes again, finding comfort there as he always had. But when he did, he saw her eyes were closed. His stomach fell through the floor. "Scully?" He touched her cheek. "Scully?" He was at the door in an instant, throwing it open and rushing down the hall. "Nurse! Nurse!?" A young woman hurried from around the corner. "What is it?" "Dana Scully-- room 1023..." She followed him down the hall and back into Scully's room. Mulder watched as she checked her patient and the monitors around her. He couldn't stop the tears now, they flowed freely down his face. "What's happening?" The nurse turned to him, grim-faced. "She's lost consciousness." The look on the man's face was something the nurse wondered if she would ever get used to. "You can still stay with her if you want." He continued to stare at the person in the bed, and she wondered if he'd heard her. After a moment, she slipped back out of the room. When the nurse had gone, Mulder went to her again, slipping his hand in hers and sitting in the chair just alongside her bed. He stroked her hair and brought his lips close to her. "I'm still here, Scully," he said lowly, "I'm not going anywhere." As if on cue, the nurse came back into the room. The man had sparked a compassion in her that she thought had hardened with the job. But when she saw him, and the way he looked at the woman in the bed, it touched something in her, and it was impossible not to feel the suffering he was experiencing. "I was wondering-- if you'd like I can bring you up a cot from storage..." Mulder looked at her over his shoulder. After a second, he nodded. She offered a sympathetic smile. "Okay. But I might need a hand..." Standing, Mulder turned and waited for her to start out of the room. When she'd gone, he leaned down to Scully and squeezed her hand. He spoke softly to her. "Wait for me." At the door, Mulder turned to look at her once more before he left. She was a lifeless shell lying there, a pale shadow of his friend, giving no indication of the person whose passion for the truth had rivaled his own, whose fire and dedication to this life had made his worth living. That was all gone. And this, he thought, this is what remains. ************************* The orderly returned to nurse's station and started to reach for the phone. Sensing suddenly that someone was at the desk, he looked up and was surprised to see a man standing there. He was immaculately dressed and soft-spoken, and at first the orderly thought he might have been a physician. But there were no doctors on the floor at that time of night. "I guess the nurse stepped away for a minute. Can I help you?" "Yes," the man said. "I'm here to see Dana Scully." "Sign in here." He pushed a clipboard towards the man and indicated for him to sign. "Room 1023." He watched as the man scribbled his name on the visitor's log. "You a relative?" "No," he said quietly, "I was sent here on business." The orderly eyed him curiously; maybe he had been right in the first place. "You're a doctor then." "In a manner of speaking, yes." He turned and started down the hall. The orderly watched as the man disappeared into 1023. Thirty seconds-- maybe 45, but definitely no more than that, the man came back out. Without a word, he passed by the nurse's station and left. The attendant looked after him... that was too weird. Nobody visited for that short a time, at least not that he'd seen in all his years on this ward. He reached for the visitor's log to read the name. It was the first and only entry on the list: Jeremiah Smith. End. -------- ************************************************************************** Kelli Rocherolle/kelli@edgenet.net/ap879@osfn.org http://www3.edgenet.net/~kelli Not tonight Honey, I have a modem.