TITLE:   Conhouse - Chapter Thirty

The rest of this is archived here:
http://www.angelfire.com/sc/scullypage/LIST.html

e-mail Address:  ErinStone1@aol.com
RATING: anywhere from PG to NC-17 - each chapter is different
CATEGORY:  Scully/Slash
SPOILERS: None
Archiving: just let me know where.

Disclaimer: Fox, Chris Carter and 1013 own them ALL, ***except Lena Conhouse,
she's mine, and of course, Wanda, who is mine in the literal sense.***

Comments are welcomed. Please send them to ErinStone1@AOL.com




In the end it was Mulder who had packed some things for her and took her to
her mother's house.

She had estimated that she'd spent 4 days in bed, getting up only to go the
bathroom.

Her only memory of the trip was twisting her ankle on the steps of her
mother's porch. She didn't feel it, but Mulder insisted on looking at it once
he got her upstairs and lying down.  She remembered vaguely his asking her
mother for a bag of ice.

As she lay in her childhood bed she drifted off to sleep with the mumbled
voices of Mulder and her Mom in the kitchen. The last thing she heard was
Mulder mention Lena. Several hours later, the sun having already set, she was
awoken by the sound of the front door opening and closing. She heard Mulder
start his car and drive away.

Her mother appeared in the bedroom door. She walked to the bed and sat down,
brushing a strand of hair from her daughter's forehead.

"Dana, honey.  I'm so sorry."

Scully's voice cracked, "She was an angel mom." She didn't know if her mother
took the words literally or not. She supposed it didn't really matter. She
could see her mother's heart breaking for her and drifted back to sleep with
that image in her mind.


Mulder sat on his couch staring at nothing. He'd gotten back from Mrs.
Scully's after dropping Dana off and had been sitting there, staring, for
nearly an hour.

All they'd been through· all of the times they were close to death· all of it
had ended in a simple domestic assault casualty.

He squeezed his eyes shut. According to Samantha it had happened quickly.

Lena had tried to block Kevin from getting to Samantha and he cut a deep gash
in her abdomen with a hunting knife. She'd lived long enough to try and hand
the gun to Samantha. When Samantha saw the gun she yelled for Lena to shoot,
not understanding why she didn't. Mulder was there seconds later, but not in
time to keep Lena from bleeding to death. She had slipped away as he wrestled
Kevin away from his sister.

He knew now, of course, who Samantha was. They had years of healing to do
together, but right now he just couldn't work up the ability to care. Scully
was just short of catatonic. That was his main concern now, how to get Scully
back.

He lowered his chin to his chest. He glanced at his fish and remembered their
first fishing trip with Lena; the look on her face when he'd flipped that fish
at her. And instead of laughing Mulder started to cry.



She supposed they'd had a funeral for Lena, but if they did it wasn't
mentioned to her. She was glad of that, being certain she wouldn't have been
able to bear it.


Her mother came in with the occasional bowl of soup or hot tea. Scully would
sit up and eat or drink. She'd talk as little as possible. She thought it was
probably just enough to keep her from being hospitalized.


Some time later, she imagined a couple days but she wasn't sure, there was a
knock at the door that woke her.  She pictured Mulder or Skinner, but after
not being able to determine who it was she shut her eyes. Sleep seemed to be
the only relief from the grief and she welcomed it.

Mrs. Scully peeked out a side window but didn't recognize the older man at the
door. She opened the door but left the chain in place.

"May I help you?"  His eyes were so beautiful·

"Mrs. Scully, my name is Steve Conhouse."

"Conhouse? Oh! Lena's father?" She shut the door and unhooked the chain then
quickly opened the door all the way. " Please," she stepped aside, "please
come in." He walked through the door and she took his hand. "Fox told me about
you. I'm so sorry for your loss."

To her surprise a tear rolled down his face. "Thank you."

Mrs. Scully took hold of his arm and led him toward the kitchen, thinking to
herself, 'What am I smelling? Is it roses?'   "Come and sit down. Would you
like some coffee?"

"That would be wonderful." He sat at the kitchen table and watched her pour
water into the coffee machine. "Mrs. Scully, I need to talk to you about
something."

She turned to face him. "Yes?"

He took a deep breath and smiled at her.  "Let me start by saying that I can't
tolerate an unhappy ending."

-end-