~*The Way Things Were Before*~

Author: Chelsea Smith or Spooky861@aol.com
Title: The Way Things Were Before
Rating: PG
Classification: Post-Ep (Requiem), MSR
Thanks to: Kim, without whom this fic would never have been 
finished! Also to Desiree, as always, for beta-ing everytime 
I added something new (I'm sure it got old reading the fic 
over and over), to Holly for the *great* beta work, to Adela, 
and to RhiaRamsay for the great suggestions given. :)
Author's Note: I wrote this a long while back, or started 
writing it, and it's only just finished. What bad timing. 
Oh, well -- please read and review!
Feedback: PLEASE!

~*~*~*~*~
Scully's POV
~*~*~*~*~

It's been three years since Mulder was taken. Three years 
since I've done anything but search for him. My life these 
past years has been dedicated to finding him. I've done 
little other than care for my only child and search. I've 
spent long nights alone in crummy hotels. So alone. I've 
dragged myself along with the solitary hope of bringing him 
home. But I haven't. No matter how hard I've tried, how long 
I've searched, and how strongly I've prayed…. I haven't been 
able to bring him back to our child and me.

And now, three years later, I've decided it's time to stop 
trying.

I glance to my right to look into the eyes of my boss and 
my friend. He returns my sorrowful gaze and nods. I lower 
the flowers I've been holding to rest before his tombstone. 
My mind traces over the words engraved there, though they 
are already ingrained deeply in my soul.

Three men, each as different as night and day, stand to my 
left. As my eyes seek them out, their gazes turn to the ground. 
They think it is too soon. My mother stands behind my holding 
my baby boy.

My baby.

He needs a father. I have not been able to bring myself to 
find a replacement. Because that's exactly what he would be 
… a replacement. And no one could ever replace you. Each man 
I've met over these last three years I've compared and 
contrasted with you. I've scrutinized their every move, 
their style, and their opinions. And the only phrase I've 
managed to come up with to describe each of these men is, 
"he's not Mulder." But now, I need to get past that. If not 
for myself, then for our child. Since I met you, I've never 
truly been satisfied with another man. I've never seen myself 
with anyone else. I never will. But no marriages ever are 
perfect. I can survive.

I'm sorry Mulder. I'll miss you … everyday. But I need to 
try to move on. 

I'm sorry.

I turn and nod to my mother. It's time to leave. She grasps 
my wrist with her free hand and leads me away. Slowly, 
the four others that belong to our small, dreary procession 
follow. A choking sensation tells me that this is it. 
This is the end. When I am buried years from now, it 
won't be beside that grave I just left. He will be Mulder, 
but I will still be Scully.

The tears I've kept at bay until now are starting to slip 
out of my control. Burning drops of misery trail down my 
face, leaving behind glistening scars. My mother tries to 
comfort me, but I wave her away. I can't do this anymore. 
I've spent too many tears already. I need to escape this. 
I can't think about it anymore.

I stop. I look back to the stone that slices through and 
raises above the earth.

'Beloved Friend, Brother, and Father.'

"Goodbye, Mulder." I wipe the tears from my eyes. I turn 
quickly around, and walk swiftly away, afraid that if I don't 
get out of there soon, I'll never let go. So I head resolutely 
for the car, and away from Mulder.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Three Months Later
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

~*~*~*~*~
Mulder's POV
~*~*~*~*~

I see white.

Blinding white light.

Poking ... prodding ... always touching.

There's pain ... so I cry out. For help. For relief

No one comes

I can feel myself moving, now.

The light is gone.

I'm plunged into darkness

I'm falling ...

Down ...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~




I can hear them around me, but I don't know what's 
happening. An odd rustling sound reaches my ears. There's 
someone moving around me. I pry my eyes open. He seems 
startled by that. He is a man. A human. My eyes widen. 
I need to get out of here, he needs to help me. I try to 
get up, to go to him, I'm thrashing around on ground, 
but I can't get to him. And now he's running away.

Come back! I want to call out. But I can't, I feel frozen 
in place. My mouth can't form the right sounds.

I need to get up! I command my arms to move, push me up 
-- get me out of here!

I can't.

It's always the same. I can't.

My limbs go slack. I wait.

Wait for them to come back, take me back to the place.

I squeeze my eyes shut, clamping back the rush of fear 
that always comes when the thought of their tests.

And they'll take me back. And I'm powerless to stop it.

I tried at first. A waste of energy. Now when they toy 
with me, all I can do is lie there. Just lie there. 

I've become ashamed of myself. I'm useless to myself. 
All I can do is take whatever they give me.

Scully would be ashamed of me, too. I tighten my fist 
around my last link to the world I once knew, the woman 
I miss so much.

A fresh wave of tears wells up inside me. But I won't let 
it out. It's my last way to fight back. They can test me, 
poke me, slice me open on their tables -- but I won't give 
them the satisfaction of letting them know it hurts.

--Noises-

They're coming back for me.

NO! But I … I can't say it. I close my eyes tightly, 
holding onto memories, wishing I wasn't here. Wishing 
I had someone with me to comfort me. I'm so alone when 
they take me.

I can't stand to be me anymore. I can't stand my own skin.

I just want to feel safe.

I just want things back to the way they used to be.

I want … something other than this. I've grown so used to 
hiding my feelings from them, I don't know if I can feel 
anymore. I feel empty. I just want to feel again.

But that wish is lost. They're hoisting me up now, carrying 
me away, taking me back to their ship, back to their rooms 
filled with a lot of nothing, back to their cold metal tables.

Voices. I can hear them all, jumbling in my mind. There are 
always too many voices. But are these in my head? Or around 
me? I can't tell anymore. And there are too many to try.

"God, what happened to this guy? He looks like a pin cushion!"

I'm being loaded into something, they are preparing to 
take me back. My eye is pried open, and a light shines 
into it. I try to squirm away, escape their experiments. 
I can't.

"Pupils are dilated and fixed."

I feel a tiny prick on my wrist.

No, not again.

"Okay, we're going to need a core temp, the guy who 
found him says he probably been out in those woods overnight."

I just want to be left alone. They know I want them to 
leave me alone, they can hear me, but they never listen. 
They never care. Bastards.

"Hey, Ted … you've gotta help me here, stubborn SOB has 
his hand clenched into a fist like steel. He's hurting 
himself, he's cutting himself with his own nails."

"So unclench his fist."

"I can't, Ted. You've got to help me. He won't let go."

NO! They're trying to take Scully away from me. Bastards! 
Let me go! I won't let them take her away from me. I struggle.

But I can't escape them. I can never escape them. And now 
they're taking her away. My only hope.

For the first time since they've had me, the tears begin to 
flow from me. Without Scully, what is left?



As the man's fingers were finally pulled apart, the EMT 
looked up in surprise to see a tiny gold cross on a 
sparkling chain, now slick with the man's blood, fall 
from his patient's stiff fingers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

    Life had been cruel to Dana Scully. It had stolen from 
her, little by little, her happiness, her wonder at the 
world, and her innocence. What it had left behind was a 
grim determination to keep out the rest of the world, and 
a disdain for those who remained loyal to the idea that 
with love there would come a happy ending. Dana Scully's 
happy ending had, she felt, been snatched away from her 
before she'd even been able to enjoy it's beginning. Over 
her years, dreams had formed. They'd begun as rough outlines, 
before shaping and forming. For years they'd remained 
distant outlines on the horizon. But eventually, she found 
that her dreams were just a foot away, and all she'd have 
to do, is reach out and touch them when she felt it was 
the time to do so. And when that time did come, she found 
that when she reached out ... her hands caught but air.

And so a reconstruction period ensued. And she built 
back up the wall around her heart that it had taken 
so many years to knock down. 

But life went on. And there was never a moment she 
hesitated to stop it's continuation. Because if you 
asked her, she'd tell you that yes, her life was good. 
She had a healthy child. She had her own health. She 
had a loving family. The past was gone, and she knew 
better than anyone that she would never be able to 
get it back. There were no regrets. So she pushed 
forward day after day, waging a constant battle to 
keep going. Chin up. Head held high. Just keep going.

So now only two factors in her life remained truly 
important to her. These two elements were the very 
foundation of her existence. She thrived on them. They 
were what held her up and kept her struggling onward, 
even if she did not realize it. There was her job, 
and most importantly, her child, Joshua.

Her work provided her with a consistency, something she 
could easily lose herself in and be aware only of facts 
and absoluteness.

Her small son was her saving grace. He gave her the 
unconditional love that she subconsciously craved, as 
well as the chance to love in return. He gave her the 
chance to feel. That's what it came down to. Life had 
hardened her, and at times she thought that perhaps she 
was only the husk of a human being, switch onto autopilot, 
merely existing. But she loved her son with unbreakable 
intensity. For Joshua there was fear for his safety, hope 
for his future, there were a million emotions that just 
seeing him brought her. So that at times she felt so full 
that she'd burst, and let the emotions leak out of her 
in teardrops.

This was an experience that tore her in two directions. 
There was relief at *feeling* something, but there was 
also anger at having allowed herself to lose control. 
After the bumps and turns in her life, she felt now that 
control was something she desperately needed. These two 
thoughts, relief and anger, confused and upset her further, 
and once the tears started they were difficult to stop.

These staples combined to form one giant escapism for 
her. So the transitional period that took place in her 
car on her way home from work to Joshua was difficult. 
Her mind would wander, and though she tried to prevent 
it, she could not escape memories of her life before. 
It was always a relief to find herself again pulling 
up in front of the house she now lived in. She had 
eventually decided that the apartment in Georgetown 
would not accommodate her needs as a mother.

She walked briskly to the door, the clicking of her 
heels on the pavement the only sound that cut through 
the cold autumn air. She was about to knock on the door 
when it was flung open to reveal the flushed, sweaty 
faces of Dean and her Joshua. A smile spread across her 
face at the site of them. Josh was looking as though he'd 
just had the time of his life. It was obvious that there 
had been some serious horseplay going on. Joshua wiggled 
out of Dean's arms and ran to Dana, wrapping his arms around 
her legs. He wiggled his fingers on her calves, laughing 
hysterically and calling out "Tickle, tickle mommy!" Dean 
watched, leaning against the door jamb, his blue eyes 
twinkling and a small smile playing upon his lips. 

Dean Evans was a rather short man (though still taller 
than herself) with wavy blonde hair and a full, happy 
face. Dean was a guidance counselor at the elementary 
school where Josh went to preschool. They'd met at a 
parent's night. He was fabulous with children and Joshua 
adored him. This was a large part of the reason Dana loved 
him so much. In truth, he was not so much what Dana needed 
in her life, but what Joshua needed. Her life with Dean 
sometimes seemed almost hopelessly mundane. It was not 
the exciting life she'd had before. But at this point 
in her life, building a family was her prime concern. 
She often longed for something more, though she wasn't 
always quite sure what it was that was missing. Still, 
in her relationship with Dean there was a gap that had 
always been fill during her time with Mulder. They'd 
been seeing each other for about a year, and Dean had 
moved in with her just three months ago.

"Don't be fooled by that innocent little face, Dana. 
That little guy is merciless in the art of tickling."

She laughed, scooping the child into her arms to deliver 
a quick kiss on his forehead. "Just imagine what the 
two of us could accomplish together."  She tossed him 
a grin and began to whisper conspiratorially into Josh's
 ear. Dean tried to hide his laughter and look suitably 
puzzled as a sneaky grin spread across his face.

Dana lowered Joshua to the ground, and he hurried over to 
Dean, raising his arms so that he would bend to pick him 
up. But before he could, Josh threw his arms around Dean's 
neck and began tickling him ferociously. Soon, however, 
he found himself hanging upside down and being carried 
into the living room, as Dean laughed with a feigned 
villainy. Dana couldn't help but laugh as she watched 
them, maniacal giggles escaping Josh. She headed into 
the study and set her briefcase on the table, then, 
shrugging off her jacket, she headed for the living room 
to join the battle. But she was interrupted by the 
ringing of her telephone.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this ... Dana Scully?"

"This is she."

"This is Dr. Raban at Bethesda Medical. One Fox William 
Mulder has just been brought in."

That was as much as she heard.

As Scully stood alone in her kitchen, unaware of her 
surroundings, the life she'd so carefully built over 
the years spun before her eyes. All of the self-preserving 
lies she'd told herself crashed down around her.

~*~

When she at last found herself outside of Mulder's hospital 
room, she became trapped in an unwillingness to enter. 
What ifs, how's, and why's crisscrossed and spun restlessly 
through her mind.

*Mulder* was inside of the room she herself was about to 
enter. Fox William Mulder, partner and friend of seven 
years. She felt then that perhaps the reunion that was 
about to take place would be happening in a parallel 
universe; that she was not, in fact, Dana Katherine 
Scully, but a mere stranger to this world. A stranger 
who was being allowed to oversee.

So bearing that in mind, and feeding off of the 
confidence the thought provided, she very quietly 
pushed open the door, and stood within the confines 
of the shadows.

The sheer shock of seeing *him* there, of knowing 
that they were on the same planet, and in the same 
room, *together* was enough to stifle any sound she 
may have otherwise tried to force out. 

So she remained silent. And for a few minutes, she 
only watched. His face was turned and he stared out of 
the windows. She realized then, with a pang of sorrow 
and loss, that the man before her was watching a world 
that must now seem foreign to him.

His face was a pale and ghastly white that seemed to 
glow with a soft eldritch light cast into the room from 
the streetlights and a gibbous moon. The shock of deep 
brown hair that looked black in the shadowed room, coupled 
with dark eyes, made his chalk white face stand out even 
more. The shadows strewn about him made him look ominous 
in the moonlight. 

She was suddenly made aware of the fact that she was 
shaking.

His thin, gaunt face looked lifeless. The eyes that once 
held so much depth and feeling, wonder, excitement, mischief 
... seemed dead. His expressionlessness made him appear 
the very thing she so often thought herself to be: the 
shell of a person. He seemed hollow, empty, and for the 
first time in her life -- she could not begin to guess 
what thoughts might have been lurking in his mind. 

She took another step toward him, and put her foot down 
firmly, with a numb sort of courage that she didn't truly 
feel. The heel of her shoe slapped against the tile of 
the floor, causing a noise doubled by the palpable silence 
of the room. So she knew he must have heard her.

But still, he did not turn around.

"Mulder ... " her hoarse whisper tore through the quiet 
of the room.

Slowly, he turned to face her, and he looked deep into 
her eyes.

For a moment, she thought she saw a flash of something 
there. Hope? Need? Before she could decide, it was gone. 
And the emptiness had returned.

She felt a burning sensation in the back of her throat, 
and tried to fight the tears it summoned forth.

But now he was sending her a pleading look. A look, she 
realized with relief, that she could read. And a look that 
conveyed the emotion that mirrored one of her own.

--Not now.--

So she took the last few stumbling steps to his bedside, 
and gathered him into her arms.

And for that moment there were no questions. There was 
only live and touch and be. There was no past, and there 
was no future to worry about. There was only them. And 
only the present.

Make believe and play pretend -- nothing had changed.

"Scully," he whispered.

And everything was all right.

The world outside moved on, but they remained locked in 
a single moment. A moment that lasted the night. Tangled 
together, they allowed their eyes to slip shut and both 
drifted into the first truly peaceful sleep that either 
of them had had for years.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Another Author's Note: I'm probably going to write more 
for this, but I really wanted to get this out. I'd hoped 
to have it out before the premiere, but things didn't 
work out the way I'd wanted them to. Anyhow, if you'd 
like to archive it or post it somewhere, just ask :) 
Spooky861@aol.com

::holds up a sign, now tattered and worn::

WILL DROP PANTS FOR FEEDBACK

~*Spooky861@aol.com*~