From: WRITERGAL2000@aol.com
Date: Thu, 3 Feb 2000 23:58:01 EST
Subject: xfc: NEW STORY-Put to Rest (1 of 4)
Source: xfc
From: WRITERGAL2000@aol.com
TITLE: PUT TO REST
AUTHOR: writergal2000@aol.com
RATING: PG13 (couple of bad words)
CATEGORY: POST EP - AMOR FATI
DISCLAIMER: We know who owns 'em. In Chris' honor, I will try to be true to
the nature of the characters. My respects to all who are connected with the
series. We're just having a little fun here and the more we spread the word,
the more tickets are bought at the box office. Our only compensation is
feedback.
Thanks to Tara and Shanna for their help with my first fan fiction. Any
mistakes are entirely mine.
SUMMARY: On a snowy night, Mulder contemplates the meaning of his dream
sequences during his brain surgery. What he comes to realize is shocking not
only to his partner, but to himself. And he not only tells the truth, but
also hears some truth from the only person who really matters to him.
PUT TO REST
9:30 p.m.
Fox Mulder's Apartment
Special Agent Fox Mulder watched a light snow falling outside his bedroom
window. Since the brain surgery, he had found his bed easier to fall asleep
in than on the sofa. He was also still a little sensitive to light, so he
had a candle burning on the bedside table. The soft glow was comforting and
his thoughts drifted in a thousand directions.
His dreams, as well as his waking visions, had created questions. One of the
most disturbing was a vague memory of his mother being present at the
hospital, standing by his bedside with CGB Spender next to her. Try as he
might to remember what words she had spoken, it was as elusive as when he had
tried to focus on her one voice among the dozens that besieged his brain.
But she had been there - and she did nothing to help. She left him there.
He hadn't spoken to her since that day in the hospital. But he knew,
intuitively as well as telepathically, that Spender had discussed with his
mother the plan for moving him out of the hospital, and she went along with
it. The emotional pain that came with that realization was overwhelming.
Mulder closed his eyes and let his mind drift away from that scene, but it
was replaced with something equally as repugnant. Diana. The sequence of
memories with Diana almost made him sick to his stomach. What the hell was
that all about? How could his mind have wandered in such a demented
direction? As a divergent life unfolded to him -- the different path he had
chosen as he drifted in unconsciousness -- he was baffled as to why it was
Diana in the role. Why not Scully? For days he had pushed the thoughts from
his mind. But now, he decided to confront them, analyze why. He needed to
have answers to this underlying and disturbing puzzle.
And without very much contemplation, it started to become clear to him. Even
before Scully had entered his life, but more recently over the last couple of
years, he had been forced to question whether a different life could have
been possible for him. He questioned it, because Scully was the one who
occasionally prodded him to examine it, as she examined her own chosen path.
With him.
There was a time, long before Special Agent Dana Scully entered the basement
office for the first time, that Fox Mulder had the same desires in life as
most people. Home, wife, kids. He remembered his own family life - normal
in most respects up until he was 12. .
And even after that time, he witnessed normal family relationships with his
friends' parents. So he knew the typical ambitions of any man or woman in
life.
Then came the X-Files, and his hypnotic regression - then alienation from his
parents when he begged for answers to his newfound insight into his sister's
disappearance. And all hopes of following that conventional path ended.
As the years passed, and the struggles became more complex, Mulder heard the
little voice in his head, he felt the nudge from his subconscious that
tempted him to wonder about the life he discarded. He could even replay the
words, as rage framed the accusation from Diana that nothing mattered to him
but finding the truth. It was apparent that she was ready to take the next
step in their relationship. But he was not. And not just because of his
personal quest. He may have some doubt about the road that he was taking,
but he never doubted that he should take the journey alone. So he forced
Diana away. And although she continued to love him, she never forgave him.
Fox Mulder needed to have the final chapter revealed to him. Once and for
all, he needed to rid himself of the 'what ifs.' He was desperate to come
full circle, to put meaning to his mission. The true part of him revealed
itself by showing him that had he chosen another life, another fate, his
world be unrecognizable and upside down. If there was a world. But
most importantly, in his vision he saw his one true friend stepping into the
light, guiding him gently at times, harshly when needed. She his
savior, his touchstone.
Scully.
The woman who, despite her own convictions, her own self-doubts and
Mulder-doubts, stood by him in every storm. And Mulder knew he was a force
to be reckoned with at times.
Mulder rose from the bed and crossed to the window. He looked through the
reflection of his image superimposed onto the dark, wet night. On the street
below him, bare tree branches moved stiffly in the cold wind. Clouds of
moisture were forming around the street lamps; by morning there would be
heavy fog. A car cruised slowly down the street. Some brave soul with a
purpose out on a snowy night.
He was still plagued with questions. He asked himself again, why the
marriage, the children -- The answer came to him simply:
Scully wasn't with him when the course of his life was determined so many
years ago. When he contemplated how differently things might have turned out
for him, he had no choice but to exclude her from the picture, because she
hadn't existed for him yet. When the visions of his dreams unfolded, he
realized that the tragic consequences that he witnessed were not just the
result of choosing the creature comforts, but the of Dana Scully in
his life. The dreams revealed what might have happened had he never met Dana
Scully. They showed him
a future predicated on the past. He knew his own mind was telling the story,
his subconscious perhaps helping him justify all his sleepless nights,
wondering whether he was throwing his life away. But Mulder knew that one of
the keys to his own brilliance was his uncanny intuition, his insights, his
ability to put facts together to form a picture. In essence, he had profiled
his own life and come to a devastating conclusion.
He didn't know what to think about the world coming to an end
based on a cerebral stage play of past decisions, but he saw it as a metaphor
-- as his world coming to an end resulting from mundane choices
encouraged by the manipulations of another. The thing that surprised him was
that his subconscious doubts had played such a large part in his dreams,
because he could not ever recall seriously wondering whether he had made a
mistake when he sent Diana away. He supposed that she was simply a thespian,
someone needed to fill the role of significant other in his dream sequences.
But then again, his dreams were being influenced by those around him who were
fucking with his brain. The traitors. And Mulder had always known what the
end result would be if he were ever betrayed.
Listening to the soft slushy flakes hit the windowpane, Fox Mulder was
suddenly staggered by a revelation about his partner so profound it coursed
through his body like an electric shock, numbing his senses to finally allow
replacement of a deep inner peace. There was a reason Dana Scully was still
with him.
Unconditional love.
The truth he searched so relentlessly to find had always been standing right
at his side.
He closed his eyes briefly to trap the unshed tears. A gust of wind rattled
the window and Mulder looked over at the trees to gauge the force of the
wind. It was then that he noticed the car had pulled up to the curb across
the street from his apartment. Giving more attention to the vehicle, he
suddenly recognized it. The headlights shut off and the driver's door
opened. The occupant didn't bother with an umbrella, but as the hood of her
parka was pulled up to cover her head, he saw the familiar shine of copper
hair.
Mulder smiled to himself. Perfect timing.
End of Part 1
From: WRITERGAL2000@aol.com
TITLE: PUT TO REST
AUTHOR: writergal2000@aol.com
RATING: PG13 (couple of bad words)
CATEGORY: POST EP - AMOR FATI
DISCLAIMER: We know who owns 'em. In Chris' honor, I will try to be true to
the nature of the characters. My respects to all who are connected with the
series. We're just having a little fun here and the more we spread the word,
the more tickets are bought at the box office. Our only compensation is
feedback.
SUMMARY: On a snowy night, Mulder contemplates the meaning of his dream
sequences during his brain surgery. What he comes to realize is shocking not
only to his partner, but to himself. And he not only tells the truth, but
also hears some truth from the only person who really matters to him.
PUT TO REST (Part 2)
Mulder pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a clean white tee shirt. Then he
went into the living room and switched on the small desk lamp by his
computer, turning his head away as he did so. It gave just enough subdued
light from across the room to chase away the darkness without causing Mulder
any eye discomfort.
He waited patiently by his front door for only one knock before he yanked it
open. Scully's hand was raised to knock again and there was an expression of
surprise on her face. He allowed her the first comment.
"Not still reading minds are you, Mulder?"
"I wish," he teased, stepping back so she could enter.
With her back to him, Scully started to remove her coat. She felt it being
lifted from her shoulders as Mulder instantly assisted her.
"Thanks," she said, turning to face him as he tossed it over his desk chair.
When she turned to him, he recognized her familiar doctor-mode as her eyes
went to the bandage around his head. Gently she turned his cheek and leaned
around him, balancing with her other hand on his shoulder, so she could check
for any bleeding on the back of his head. The bandage was clean. He allowed
two seconds for her inspection, then took both her hands in his.
"Your hands are cold," he said, squeezing them gently. "I still have some of
that tea you brought over when I had the flu. How about I make some?"
"Maybe in a minute. You obviously weren't sleeping."
"I was laying there, just ..." he shrugged lightly.
"Thinking," she finished for him, her lips curled in that all-knowing smile.
He grinned. "Good thing, too. I don't think I would have heard your knock
if I'd been asleep."
"That was my intention. I didn't want to wake you, so I would have used my
key."
"I see," he said, motioning with his hand toward the sofa. "And for what
purpose? To borrow some of my videos, perhaps?"
"If I want to watch pornography, I can order it right from my remote in my
own living room."
Mulder caught her glancing down his hallway towards his bedroom before
sitting next to him on the sofa.
"Pornography? No-no-no," he answered playfully. "Pornography is back-alley
stuff. This is that I in a ," he
emphasized.
"I stand corrected."
A moment of silence gave Mulder the opportunity to admire his partner. She
was wearing a heavy pale pink sweatshirt that came to mid-thigh of her black
leggings, which were tucked into waterproof black boots. Her hair was pulled
into a short ponytail with softly curled tendrils framing her face. She had
removed her earrings. Her necklace caught a sparkle of light and, as had
become a habit of his, he hooked his index finger under the delicate chain,
moving it down to the tiny gold cross. Placing it on the pad of his finger,
he inspected the symbol of her faith as if it might hold answers for him as
well. Then he laid it back against her sweater, his fingers just brushing
the cotton threads. She looked absolutely stunning without makeup.
Scully was well aware of his scrutiny, but didn't comment. She was used to
it. Instead she nodded toward his bedroom. "What is that flickering in your
bedroom?"
"Candle," he said sheepishly, as if it weren't exactly a manly answer.
Scully's eyes narrowed with worry. "Still having trouble with pain from
light?"
His eyebrows raised as if preparing to deny it, but found he could not lie to
an expression of such deep concern. He nodded, "Yeah, but it's getting
better. It really is."
"We can turn that light off, Mulder," she said, pointing to the desk lamp.
"No, it's fine. Scully, why you come over here?"
She looked down at her hands and he saw her chest rise with a soft sigh. Her
hesitation was a familiar signal to him.
"Hey," he said, waiting for her to look up. "How about you accompany me into
the kitchen to supervise the tea-brewing? I don't navigate that well in the
dark." Then his eyes twinkled. "Well, at least not in the ."
Scully snickered and shook her head, but she was pleased that he was
admitting he needed her help.
"How about you wait here." She lowered her voice to a seductive whisper, " I
prefer navigating with the light ."
"Oooh," he moaned, "you know what I like."
"No, but it's safer that way," she said bluntly.
"Always the sensible, logical Dr. Scully. You and Mr. Spock would have been
perfect together."
"But Mr. Spock had no emotions," she said, standing up.
"Ah, but he did. The Vulcan side of him tried to deny the human side of him
by suppressing his emotions. There again, much like -"
"Don't go there, Mulder," she warned, pointing a deadly finger at him and
trying to look serious.
Mulder chuckled and it was music to Scully's ears. She hadn't expected this
kind of mood from him tonight and she was relieved. He watched her walk into
the kitchen, and when the light came on, he turned away from it on the sofa.
He could hear her opening the cabinets.
"Hey, Scully, question."
"Hmm?" she answered, unseen.
"Have you made any plans for New Year's Eve?"
"Not really."
"With your mom?" Mulder was glad she wasn't in the room to see his
anticipation.
"Mom's going to stay in San Diego through New Year's."
He heard the teakettle being filled with water and waited until she turned
off the faucet before commenting further. But she beat him to it.
"Why?" she asked.
"Well, normally I just hang out here on New Year's Eve, you know, another
night of crazies I don't need."
He heard her chuckle, "I hear ! It's why I didn't plan on being with
."
"Very funny. But after all, it is the millennium. I feel remiss if we don't
do different. What do you think?"
"I think idea of is scary."
"What'd you have in mind, Mulder?"
"Well, the FX channel is running an Alfred Hitchcock marathon that night -"
"I like Alfred Hitchcock."
"I know. So I thought ..." . "... we could hang out here,
or your place --your apartment would be nice with the fireplace -- get a deli
tray or pizzas or something, see which one of us can guess the episode by the
first scene."
Mulder saw movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head toward
the kitchen, squinting to minimize the light. Scully was standing in the
doorway, weight on one foot, an empty mug in each hand.
"You must be kidding. You have a photographic memory. How could I possibly
win, because I'm assuming you've seen every episode, and once is all it takes
with you because you never forget ... one ... single ... thing, unless of
course we're talking about putting the toilet seat down ...."
"Well, okay, forget that part."
She nodded and was out of sight again. He wet his lips and continued on.
"We could get a couple bottles of champagne ..." He hesitated, waiting to see
if she would appear in the doorway again. And, on cue, she did. He prepared
for her verbal assault on that little idea.
"Champagne, huh?"
He nodded pensively. Scully drew out the moment, obviously readying herself
to cut him down at the knees. When she spoke, it was the last thing he
expected. "Real champagne? Not two bottles of Cold Duck for five bucks?
Real champagne." She made the last part a statement, not a question.
Mulder was so ecstatic he was afraid Scully could monitor his heartbeat from
across the room, but he maintained his cool. "Real champagne. Let's make it
three bottles."
"Sounds good," she answered offhandedly disappearing once more into that
brain-slicing light, "but with our luck we'll probably get a case."
He sat there in shock for a couple of minutes, then heard the brief whistle
from the kettle and the click of the burner being turned off. A moment later
Scully flicked off the kitchen light and returned to him on the couch,
setting the tea on the table. Mulder carefully lifted the steaming mug and
caught a whiff of lemon. He wasn't partial to tea, but right now, in his
heightened state, she could serve him battery acid and he'd be eternally
grateful.
Their moments of playful bantering were over. They put some quiet distance
between their jesting and Scully's reason for being here. Mulder sipped
carefully, waited until she was ready. To his surprise, she kicked off her
boots, then turned toward him, bringing her feet up to sit cross-legged in
front of him. "I talked to Skinner earlier. He said he'd be glad to drive
you to the funeral tomorrow."
Mulder's face fell. He had been kidding himself. He knew sooner or later
they'd have to talk about it. But he didn't realize that Scully
misinterpreted his expression. She put a hand on his wrist but he was
quicker in responding.
"What do you mean? Have you decided not to drive? Is Skinner going to pick
you up first?"
Scully met his eyes and saw something else there, something beyond the grief
she expected. "Mulder ... I'm not going to the funeral tomorrow."
She thought she knew her partner pretty well, but she was seeing something
uncharacteristic of Fox Mulder -- an edge of panic in his demeanor. He put
the tea down, then turned to face her fully, placing his arm along the back
of the couch. His fingertips just touched her shoulder.
"Not going? Why?" he asked, his voice a harsh whisper.
"Because I don't belong there. You know that ... I never trusted her. I
disliked her immensely, and ..." Scully looked deep into his eyes, trying to
decide whether she should admit the truth. It was time, long overdue in
fact. "I was jealous, Mulder. Almost to the point of being unprofessional."
Mulder was shaking his head. His face looked so sad. Although she had tried
to prepare herself for his feelings for Diana, she was taken back by his
insufferable face. , she thought with utter despair etched on her face.
End of Part 2
From: WRITERGAL2000@aol.com
TITLE: PUT TO REST
AUTHOR: writergal2000@aol.com
RATING: PG13 (couple of bad words)
CATEGORY: POST EP - AMOR FATI
DISCLAIMER: We know who owns 'em. In Chris' honor, I will try to be true to
the nature of the characters. My respects to all who are connected with the
series. We're just having a little fun here and the more we spread the word,
the more tickets are bought at the box office. Our only compensation is
feedback.
SUMMARY: On a snowy night, Mulder contemplates the meaning of his dream
sequences during his brain surgery. What he comes to realize is shocking not
only to his partner, but to himself. And he not only tells the truth, but
also hears some truth from the only person who really matters to him.
PUT TO REST (Part 3)
Mulder read her like a book. Now, he needed to put it into words. It was time to make her
understand. She had deserved the truth a long time ago.
"No, Scully. What's happened - what you has happened, has clouded
what you knew to be the truth."
"I don't understand. But it doesn't matter. I would feel like a hypocrite
being there with you. She was your friend. I want you to be able to express
what you feel tomorrow without worrying about how I'm taking it. This is not
about me. And I'm so ..." Her voice began to quiver and she bit her lower
lip, closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to see her shame reflected in his
eyes.
Fighting tears, she felt a soft hand cup her cheek and she opened her eyes.
She didn't expect him to be smiling, his eyes bright. When he spoke to her,
his voice was soothing, calm, assured.
"Scully, we just made plans for New Year's. If I had lost ..." she saw
a flicker of terror which he blinked away quickly, " ... I wouldn't even want
to be alive in the new year."
Even though the statement was tragic, she knew what he was trying to say, and
she smiled as a lone tear broke from her constraint and trailed down her
cheek. Mulder's thumb brushed it away without his hand ever leaving her
cheek.
"Too many tears lately, Scully. But I think this is a new beginning for us."
She nodded again, not daring to use her voice yet. Mulder moved his hand
from her face, taking each of her hands firmly in his and resting them on his
thighs.
"I want you to listen to me. I needed to talk to you, but ... I didn't know
how to start ... where to start." He smiled at her. "You're so much better
at that than I am."
Scully saw his eyes drop to her lips, to her chest, as if constantly
reassuring himself that she was still there, in the flesh. His eyes locked
with hers once again.
"Have you asked yourself the question? question, Scully?"
At her puzzled face, he shook his head sadly, answering for her. "No?"
Mulder's jaw clenched and his eyes dilated slightly. Scully knew, both as a
doctor and as his best friend, that adrenaline caused that physical change in
Mulder. But in this case, it was not the rush of pleasure or excitement, it
was contained anger.
"What question, Mulder?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
She saw a shadow of pain pass over his face as he spoke. "How did Diana
Fowley know where I was?"
Scully had no answer. She realized that she hadn't really given it much
thought. She had been more concerned about Mulder's return and his recovery.
Mulder saw her eyes drift aimlessly to a point just over his shoulder as she
considered the question.
"Scully," he said softly, bringing her attention back to him. "How did she
have access to where I was being held?" he asked in the same soft voice, but
with an edge to his words.
"I assumed she got the information, somehow. Unofficial channels?" she said
with a weak smile, trying to ease the tension.
The almost imperceptible shake of Mulder's head sent chills down her spine.
His next words were spoken as if dipped in ice water.
"She was there."
Through Scully's hands in his, Mulder felt her body shudder.
"She stood right over me as they cut me open."
Her mouth opened slightly in horror and tears refilled her eyes. She was
still speechless.
"She didn't save me. She gave me to you when they were finished. You saved
me."
Mulder's eyes were glassy and his hands tightened around hers. "She betrayed
me. This person ... that you never trusted," he said, his words trailing off.
. Her tight rein on composure
crumbled. Scully's emotions burst forth. Her arms flew around her partner
and she hugged him tighter than she had ever held him. And she cried,
openly, without restraint. She finally felt what he felt, because in an odd
turn-around, she went from distrusting Diana, to crediting her for saving
Mulder's life, to sudden realization that Diana had lied to him and helped
perpetrate a dangerous, life-threatening invasive procedure. A roller
coaster of trust and deceit. She felt the betrayal
like a punch in the stomach. Scully knew, deep down inside, that Diana had
given Mulder reasons to trust her. But she had been filling two agendas at
the same time, and in the end, the trust he placed in Diana was twisted into
what he had come to expect from everyone ... everyone but Scully.
Mulder could hear and feel his partner's desperation. With one hand around
her shoulder, the other on the back of her hair, he held her head to his
chest and put his lips to her ear. He was somewhat startled at the magnitude
of her emotional reaction.
"Shhh, Scully, it's okay. I've dealt with it in my own way."
"Oh, Mulder -"
He pulled away from her and lifted her chin. Her lip quivered and tears ran
down her cheeks, but she looked him in the eye. He had never seen her this
upset. Their emotions were still raw, and this was too much. He knew her
tears were for him, knowing how few people he trusted, wondering how this was
going to affect him. Gently, he took hold of her shoulders.
"Honey, it's not the worst that could have happened."
The endearment slipped, but it got her attention and for an instant she
didn't know how to respond to it. But she didn't have to. Mulder went on;
what he had to say was important, no matter how he said it.
"Diana was someone I felt I could trust - ," he emphasized.
"It's the same with Skinner and the Gunmen, maybe to a little lesser degree
with them because I've known Diana longer. But it's not even the same
universe where you're concerned. What I have with you, Scully, I
felt with Diana or anyone. "," he repeated, gently gripping her by
the shoulders as he emphasized the word.
Mulder dropped his hands to her knees and she retained contact by holding his
wrists.
"Let's go back a little further. It's time I explained a lot of things." He
leaned his head closer, his eyes seeking permission to go on, his nod
encouraging her assent. She nodded. Yes, she needed to know things.
"When we got back from Antarctica, I wasn't the same man. I was scared.
I've known for a long time how dangerous this work is for you, but it wasn't
until I found you in the ice chamber that the full impact of losing you hit
me. It ..." Mulder swallowed and felt Scully's grip on his wrists tighten.
"I wasn't going home without you alive. There was no other alternative."
"You saved me. No one but you could have pulled it off."
"Yeah. time. What about the next time? That single thought haunted
me night and day. I battled with myself to let go, to let you do your job.
But that fear that I kept inside was affecting my decision-making, our
partnership. I know now why married agents can't be partners. But I knew
that if you realized what I was doing, you'd leave me."
Mulder saw her struggling with his confessions. She smiled through her
tears, as if relaying that he was wrong, when they both knew he was right.
Mulder went on, not concerned with the chronology of events, just the facts.
"The afternoon when I got the call that one of the female FBI agents guarding
Gibson Praise had been shot, I was frantic. The first report was that the
agent was possibly dead. I didn't know which of you had been with him last,
and I wasn't able to get any information. You weren't answering your cell
phone. I just knew it was you. I lost it, Scully -- literally. I ran in
the bathroom and threw up. When my cell phone finally rang and I heard your
voice, I almost fainted with relief. Ask Skinner. He said I went white as a
ghost and he grabbed me, making me sit down with my head between my knees.
When I picked you up to take you to the scene, I know I was harsh with you.
I can only imagine what you must have been thinking. So I'll tell you now.
I was feeling guilty because when I imagined you hurt and bleeding, maybe
even ... all I could say in my mind was . That's about as close to a prayer as I'd gotten in a long
time. So seeing that you were okay, I was rude. I could be rude because you
were safe and that's all that mattered. It was as if treating you badly
would somehow minimize how little concern I had for Diana."
Scully nodded, understanding. She glanced down at the discarded tea cooling
on the table and Mulder's words brought her focus back to him.
"But there's more."
End of Part 3
From: WRITERGAL2000@aol.com
TITLE: PUT TO REST
AUTHOR: writergal2000@aol.com
RATING: PG13 (couple of bad words)
CATEGORY: POST EP - AMOR FATI
DISCLAIMER: We know who owns 'em. In Chris' honor, I will try to be true to
the nature of the characters. My respects to all who are connected with the
series. We're just having a little fun here and the more we spread the word,
the more tickets are bought at the box office. Our only compensation is
feedback.
SUMMARY: On a snowy night, Mulder contemplates the meaning of his dream
sequences during his brain surgery. What he comes to realize is shocking not
only to his partner, but to himself. And he not only tells the truth, but
also hears some truth from the only person who really matters to him.
PUT TO REST (Part 4 of 4)
"But there's more. My worst nightmare came to life when the creature showed
up in Arizona. Whether you believed it or not wasn't relevant to my own
fears. It's not possible for me to even describe what images flashed in my
head, the all-consuming terror. On the highway that night, with you in the
back seat with Gibson, Diana pleaded with me to go with her to find the
creature at the nuclear plant. I should have gone with you to make sure
Gibson was safe, but I knew what would happen later. You and I would end up
searching for the creature. And I ..."
Mulder stopped and momentarily released her hand so he could rub his tired
eyes. Then he took her hand again and resumed.
"Again I made a choice, Scully: if my partner's going in there with me to
face my single most terrifying memory, and if my partner's life will be put
in serious jeopardy - which I believed with every fiber of my being it was -
then I want my partner to be Diana Fowley, not Dana Scully. I want Dana
Scully to be safe in a brightly-lit hospital, not following in my footsteps
to find a creature that will literally rip to pieces anything within its
reach. And again, I didn't explain it to you. How could I? How do I tell
my partner of six years, who's saved my ass more times than I care to count,
that for right now anyway, I want you as far away from me and danger as I can
put you, without you suspecting and thereby leaving me in a trail of dust on
your way to a transfer?"
Mulder took a deep breath after that long tirade and went on. "And then I
use my trust in Diana as the I need to do it over again, if it comes
to that. To put in harm's way instead of you."
She felt his hands tighten on her knees. "Don't you see? I was the one
being unprofessional." There was a tremor in his next words. "I've never
been that scared in my life."
Scully was speechless. Of all of the explanations she thought of for her
partner's behavior where Diana Fowley was concerned, she never considered any
of what he just said.
Mulder finally dropped his eyes, his chin almost resting on his chest. "I'm
so sorry. I knew that you were misinterpreting all of my actions, but my two
alternatives were to jeopardize your life, or tell you the truth and watch
you walk out on me. I knew that I hurt you, but I knew you were safe, and at
the time that's all that mattered. I just hadn't coped yet with what we had
been through, and I couldn't go through it again ... not with you. I just
couldn't."
He looked up at her, his face a mask of pain, beseeching her to understand
beyond his words. As his head dipped again, his voice cracked in whispered
torment, "I just couldn't come that close to losing you again."
Mulder felt relief at his confession, like a weight being lifted off his
shoulders, but he was apprehensive about Scully's reaction. He knew that his
partner had fought hard to get where she was. The last thing she ever wanted
was to be protected because of emotional reasons, not duty-bound ones. She
was his equal, and he had done anything but treat her as such.
Scully's fingers slid up his wrists, then back to clasp his hands and the
gesture made him look up at her. There was no anger in her face. Her eyes
glistened with tears, but he knew that face so well, the one she wore when
telling him, without words, that she understood him for who he was, and
that's how she accepted him. She had made that decision a long time ago,
like a marriage, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health.
"Mulder, you don't have a monopoly on guilt. I have my own confessions to
make."
His expression was pensive. Whatever his partner was ready to confess to, it
paled in contrast. Scully read this on his face, but continued to hold his
trembling hands tightly.
"I told you more than once of my suspicions about Diana Fowley. I even
for proof, getting the Gunmen to hack into overseas case files as
well as personnel files. You were right when you said I was making it
personal. At times, you did hurt me. I felt like slugging that
I-know-more-than-you-do smirk off your face. I prayed for the day when you'd
see for yourself that you'd been wrong all along about Diana, and that I'd
been right. I wanted to bring you down a notch with that, partner," she
said, her voice breaking on the last few words. "I wanted to see the look on
your face when I said 'I told you so.'"
Scully swallowed hard, and the shock on Mulder's face brought on a new rush
of tears. She let go of his hands, locking her fingers together behind his
neck, and bringing his forehead to rest against hers, as she had done in the
past.
"Now I would give anything to see that look on your face, the haunted
uncertainty behind your beautiful eyes. How insane for me to wish that upon
you, when I know that your pain is mine."
She felt him nod slightly. "Mulder, I just don't know how you hold on
sometimes."
Mulder pulled back slowly, taking her hands once again. She was surprised to
see him smiling, even though his eyes were weary.
"I heard a story once, Scully, about a man running for his life from a hungry
tiger. He ran until he reached the edge of a cliff. He looked behind him at
the tiger advancing on him, and below him hundreds of feet to the waves
crashing on the rocks. He made his decision, and he jumped. But on the way
down, he was lucky enough to catch a branch jutting out of the rock wall. He
hung there, realizing he could neither climb up, nor down. And the branch
was slowly pulling out of the rock. Just as he was about to let go, put
himself in the hands of fate, he looked over and noticed a big, red, ripe
strawberry growing on a vine just beyond his reach. Shifting his body
carefully, he stretched his arm. When he felt the branch loosening more from
the rock, he prayed for courage, and a few extra seconds of life. With his
free hand slowly inching up the face of the rock, he was able to bring the
vine down and pluck the strawberry between his teeth. As he chewed the juicy
morsel, he closed his eyes, savoring the sweetness. And his only thought for
those precious seconds: that it was the most delicious strawberry he had
tasted."
Mulder raised his eyebrow, trying to elicit a response from her. The story
had hit the mark, and Scully was slightly overwhelmed at the analogy.
"There's always a reason to hold on, Scully. You never know when you'll find
something sweet," he said, caressing her smooth cheek with the back of his
hand.
Her smile broadened into a grin, "Or a hunter with a long rope."
Her remark caught him off guard and he laughed, an honest-to-goodness, deep,
sincere Mulder-laugh. It made her heart leap with joy.
"See, you open to extreme possibilities."
"Don't insult me, Mulder, by implying that I'm beginning to think like you,"
she replied, barely restraining her amusement.
As both agents looked deep into each other's eyes, their thoughts were in
tandem.
Although some apprehension remained on Mulder's face, his voice was
surprisingly strong. "I need you with me tomorrow to bid farewell to a
fellow agent. You're my partner, and I'm yours, and we should be standing
side by side. It's where everyone expects us to be. It's where expect us to
be. Tomorrow, we put it to rest, Scully."
. "Yes, we will," she answered, her
voice matching the strength in his.
She saw his immediate relief, and she gently touched the bandage at his
forehead.
"You need to sleep now, Mulder. We both do."
Mulder watched her put her boots on and he stood up when she did. He
glanced over at the window, frosted over with ice crystals.
"I'm worried about you driving home," he said, following her to the desk for
her coat.
"The roads weren't that bad, and it's really just a heavy sleet. Actually
it's safer driving in weather like this because everyone is more careful.
And it's really ... quite beautiful."
Mulder smiled and nodded, then Scully saw him avert his eyes from the lamp.
She tapped her finger against his chest. "Don't forget your sunglasses
tomorrow, even though it's forecast to be cloudy."
"Believe me, I won't." He held her coat as she slipped her arms in. "Call
me when you get home. I'll feel better."
"Yes, Dad. I'll be here at ten a.m., so have the coffee ready."
The two agents looked deep into each other's eyes, and automatically their
arms went around the other's waist. Their actions continued to mimic each
other as they smiled, and touched foreheads again.
"Thank you, Mulder."
"For what?"
"The truth. But mostly, for just being you."
"Ditto, Agent Scully."
Mulder planted a tender kiss on her forehead and she turned and opened the
door.
"Hey, Scully?" he said, delaying her a moment more.
"Yes?"
"What I said about you, and Mr. Spock, and emotions ... I was wrong."
She tilted her head as if she'd heard him incorrectly and then he winked and
said, "First time for everything."
He was rewarded with a good, solid chuckle from his partner. For several
seconds she transfixed him with eyes that burned as brightly as a winter
fire. Only by turning away from him did she break the spell.
"Good night, Mulder."
"Don't forget to call me when you get home."
Scully acknowledged with a nod. Mulder leaned against the open door as she
walked down the hallway to the elevator.
"Good night ... partner," he whispered in a voice inspirited with the
anticipation of a new dawn.
THE END