Title: World's Only Breathing Heart Donor

Author: Tygershark

KEYWORDS: S MSR Mulder & Scully Angst.

RATING: M for language

SPOILERS: Big time reference to Triangle and various other ep's up to that.

SUMMARY: Regret and guilt can be an overwhelming force and sometimes you would do ANYTHING to fix what's wrong. But it's harder to survive knowing what must be done is the very thing that will tear you apart. In the wake of "Triangle" Mulder has withdrawn and desperately tries to find the strength to do what he knows he must. Scully is left wondering exactly which personal hell Mulder is wandering through.

DISCLAIMER: Who would believe that I own these characters anyway? If I did they'd be having a GOOD time but then maybe no one would watch the show. So it's better that I don't own them, but I can through the miracle of fan fic weave my own tangled web. And wallow in my delusions of grandeur.

Ok just a general caution. It seems that the only stories I can crank out are angst-o-rama, shipper-fests. Someday I might be able to break out of the mold and do a little humor but for now MSR goes on and angst is plentiful, so if you're not into that you may not dig this one. I am a shipper and a Mulderist so my stuff leans to that genre. So if MSR upsets you just close your eyes and yell out "Happy Place, Happy Place" and hit the back button and read something else. But to those who want to believe I invite you to read and hopefully enjoy.

Let me know if you like this story. It's only my third one but hopefully there is some improvement. As always positive feedback will be loved and cherished. Negative feedback will be brooded over.

Fox Mulder sat absently watching the TV screen, not even caring that his beloved Knicks were down by 13 points. It was early Sunday evening and Mulder had already run out of things to do. He tried hard to keep himself occupied all weekend. He got up that morning determined not to spend the day moping around the apartment. He thought about going for a work out or maybe a pick up game.

Of course one minor concern like only one pair of clean underwear left and one clean suit seemed to have priority. So it looked like laundry and a trip to the cleaners on the morning's agenda. Well he could just go to pick up his suits and then go buy another package of underwear like he did last week. Mulder considered it for a moment before deciding to do the laundry, it would keep him occupied for a couple of hours at least.

Ordinarily he would have gone into the office but unfortunately last week he got a friendly call from Betty Beancounter in HR. She informed him that according to the security logs he had worked every weekend for the last month and a half. She was not impressed when he said he was just trying to make sure the taxpayers got their money's worth. She informed him that overworked people tended to be slovenly in their work habits. As a field agent he should know the dangers of burn out. So the evil queen of numbers banished him from the office on weekends.

If he wasn't working he almost didn't know what to do with himself. Lately his boredom and frustration level had been a lot higher than normal. He had been sleeping a lot less, consuming more sugar and caffeine than usual. Something he tried to hide from his partner. He knew what she would say, "Jeez, Mulder no wonder you can't sleep at night you only drink about a gallon of tea a day. That much caffeine would wake the dead."

She would only worry, that's why he kept that information from her. Actually he'd been keeping a lot of things from her lately. So much so that now he couldn't remember exactly when he'd started to pull away. Well that wasn't entirely true, you couldn't get away from a photographic memory no matter how hard you tried.

He could call up the precise moment when things changed between them. It was after he had run off chasing that damn ghost ship. Only it wasn't a ghost ship He woken up in a hospital, big surprise! Scully's beautiful face was the first thing he saw the only thing that he wanted to see. He barely acknowledged the presence of his friends and the A D. He was only vaguely aware that they had left the two of them alone. He was telling Scully how she saved the world; she had faith in him even in another lifetime.

"I thought I'd never see you again. But you believed me."

She leaned ever so close to him, for a moment his heart started beating faster. Expecting any moment to feel her cool lips on his own. He was so taken by the closeness they seemed to be sharing.

"In your dreams. Now I want you to close your eyes and think to yourself, there's no place like home."

Even as she said it she was still leaning over him, his fingers were ever so gently rubbing her hip. As he looked her in the eye he could swear that she was about to kiss him. But only for a moment because she started to pull away. Something in his heart propelled him up; no he couldn't let the moment pass without saying something.

"Scully."

She stopped in mid-stride and turned and walked back to his bedside, again leaning in just a bit more than normal.

"Yes?"

It was the lean that did it. He looked up into her eyes, begging her to see his heart. With all the courage that he possessed, dropping his pride and fear for that one moment.

"I love you."

That one tiny second expanded hope flared. The words weren't much but he hoped she understood those were the only words he could speak. Inadequate as they were, he hoped she knew that there were so very many more words, words he couldn't say. To say that her reaction wasn't what he expected was an understatement, of the utmost extreme.

"Oh brother."

Then she simply turned and walked out the door. He wasn't sure if it was insanity or stupidity that made him half expect her to poke her head back in and happily intone, "Had you big time."

But she didn't come back. He lay back down on the pillow wincing slightly as his cheek made contact. He rubbed it cautiously, half smiling at the memory of the kiss he'd given to his partner's 1939 counterpart.

He kept expecting Scully to come back and check on him as the night progressed, but she didn't. Why didn't she? It was 2:45 and the nurses had been by every hour on the hour. Where was Scully? Usually she had to be threatened or dragged kicking and screaming away from his bedside. That's when it hit him; that's when it all came down. His declaration had appalled her, or worse it was comical to her. He ran his hands through his hair. Oh god, that's it he thought. The scene replayed itself unbidden through his mind. His brain watched as an observer, after all he was a trained profiler and psychologist. He noted the set of her shoulders the little snort of laughter. Then the "oh brother" that's when his old friend guilt stepped in. Together they wove those two words into the most devastating self-recrimination possible. The kind only a thoroughly inventive mind can conjure up. Crushed didn't even begin to express how he felt at that moment.

/Mistake. /

What the hell was the matter with him anyway what on earth had made him tell her that? Well he knew it was no secret, there were things that Mulder just knew. He wasn't called spooky for nothing. Though they had never said the words he knew they loved each other, it was that unspoken communication. Nothin' says lovin' like putting your job and your life on the line for your partner. She had done that more times than he could count. Then of course there were his efforts to save her from the alien virus. The words 'I love you' just somehow pale to racing to the ends of the earth to save your partner's life after you've been shot in the head. Not that he had wanted acknowledgement or even thanks, she was his partner and if she was ever put in danger it was because of him.

After an hour or so of tormenting himself he did what he had never done before. When the nurse came back he asked for some painkillers. Hoping the drug would allow him to feel nothing.

Ever since Bermuda they grew distant. Mulder hastily rebuilt that wall around himself. He plugged up the holes that he'd allowed her to open. How could he be so stupid, after his disastrous relationships of the past he swore no one would ever get that close again. Of course with the others he did see it coming, this hit him out of the blue. It was the ultimate in frustration, torn between wanting her and desperately trying to not think about her.

The only thing he knew for certain was that now he HAD to put some emotional distance between them. The feelings were unshakable, he wanted her plain and simple. She didn't want him, also plain and simple. His analytical mind tried to ruminate.

/If she doesn't want me why does she stay? /

/Stupid question/

He knew that line of thinking was self-centered and chauvinistic. She stays because she enjoys the work, because she had as much stake in it now as he did. It was the height of arrogance to even suggest that she stayed because of any feelings for him. She cared about him he knew that, you didn't do the things she did and not care. But like she said, not everything was about him.

/How the hell does she do it? How does she go through life being alone?/

Well that wasn't too hard to figure out, because she unlike him had people who cared about her she had a family. They weren't perfect but at least she had one. Mulder couldn't remember what it was like to be part of a family. All he'd ever wanted was a normal life, someone to be with when he turned out the lights and shut the world out. But any hopes for a normal life were dashed with the disappearance of his sister. Since that day life became an out of control express train speeding to oblivion. Now he so desperately wanted to be loved even if it was just one person, just one out of five billion to give a fuck about him. Because it had been so long since anyone had. He couldn't stand this, trying to exist like this was like trying to live with half his soul missing.

He tried to remember when he'd felt the warmth of knowing the love of another soul. His parents of course had loved him at some point and he knew Sam did but that was before the dark days. After Sam was gone his father buried himself in his work and alcohol, his mother buried herself in a pill bottle and they for the most part gave up on him. Now he couldn't even remember the last time anyone had told him they loved him. And the four times in twenty years he'd said those words they were all met with the same disdain.

So here he sat in his dark apartment, on his couch mindlessly watching a basketball game that he didn't even care who was playing. He looked over at the half-full bottle of beer sitting there. He had splurged and gotten a 4 pack of Guinness that now he allowed to just sit there.

Mulder sat up, grabbing the remote he snapped off the TV. He got up and paced around looking exactly like the caged animal he felt like. Wandering over to his stereo he scanned over his CD's picking out one of his more depressing ones, he considered it a moment before dropping it back on the shelf. His black mood didn't need any more help, besides if he listened to it just one more time he might never pull himself out of the mire. Crossing in front of his TV he absently looked at his video collection, nah even that didn't peak his interest much to the dismay of other regions of his anatomy. Man he really was depressed.

God he felt so isolated, so thoroughly and completely alone. He didn't have a family; he wondered if he ever really did. He had no real friends except for Scully, now he felt as isolated from her as he was from everybody else.

Being alone was not something that he was supposed to have trouble with after all these years, it was second nature. Being alone was so much easier to take when he wasn't so damn lonely. He was used to the pain and usually he had no trouble wrapping each new pain deep down. Taking them out only when he was alone to see if it still hurt to drag out the past just to paint it blue. Those were the nights he spent staring at the ceiling or else hunting for sleeping pills that he knew damn well he wouldn't take.

He crossed the room to where his basketball sat; he dribbled it a few times but the damn thing bored him.

/Why the hell is this so difficult? /

God he hated being depressed, he couldn't stand being alone in his dark apartment with his thoughts any longer. Mulder gathered his remaining wits, donned his running gear and forced himself to run. Feet thundered over the pavement, muscles strained, sweat dropped. Mulder pushed himself mercilessly through the Alexandria streets. Running had always been so therapeutic for his tortured soul. So he pushed himself to the limit waiting for the endorphins to kick in. Waiting for the runner's high. Still he couldn't get away from his thoughts. If it wasn't so pathetic it would've struck him as funny. A grown man trying to run away from his thoughts. Well like John Lennon always said, 'Whatever gets you through the night.' That's all he did with his nights anymore, he just tried to get through them. If that meant a five-mile run as a distraction then so be it.

He ran until his body stubbornly refused to carry him any further. He slumped down in a heap onto some nearby steps, his breath coming out in exhausted gasps. He wiped his face with his wet shirt, only then did he notice the rain softly falling around him. 'Now when the hell did that start?' He wondered. He sat there as the rain continued to fall harder. Of course now that he was just sitting there his thoughts came back to haunt him.

/Why can't I just stop thinking about her? Everything would be ok if I could just stop thinking about her. /

Mulder knew he had never had any luck with women. Every woman he'd ever gotten close to either deserted him, or was taken from him or else they outright betrayed him. He had been wrong about every woman he'd ever gotten close to. He'd been wrong about Phoebe, he'd been so wrong about her. Other fiascos sprang to mind from Angela White, to Diana Fowley and every other one in between. He had such a horrible blind spot when it came to women. The sad thing was that now after so many years he figured he deserved all of it, he certainly came to expect it. He so wanted to be right about Scully but he was so terrified of being wrong. He still couldn't get away from that one nagging question, when the hell had his partner become the one person he couldn't live without?

He tried to tell himself that he wasn't lonely, that he didn't want her. But the feelings permeated his consciousness; pain, frustration, desperation, and isolation. He had this overwhelming desire to have someone to talk to, but there was no one. Mulder knew it was unhealthy to hold so much inside but there was absolutely no one to talk to. That was a sobering thought although not a new thought at all. He had always been alone, he told himself that was how he liked it. He lived for years being not quite happy to be alone but resigned to it. He had a mental image of living and dying completely alone. That image instead of depressing him, oddly comforted him. He was content to live out his days in that manner searching for the truth alone

All that changed the day Scully had walked into his basement office. Of course nothing changed overnight he expected her to be gone in less than a week. But she surprised the hell out of him by staying. Then he surprised himself by starting to open up to her, trusting her and caring about her. None of that was supposed to happen, he never trusted anyone, he hadn't cared about anyone in years and he damn sure had never needed anyone before.

The rain continued to fall on his heated body but instead of making him more comfortable by cooling him down it only served to remind him of yet another pain. Florida and that damn sea monster or whatever the hell it was. Had it not been for that cat and the rain he would have died painfully and alone. Even though he smiled as Dales' commented on how lucky Mulder was to have Scully at his side; he couldn't help the hurt he felt. It was childish he knew but when that monster attacked him he had never felt so abandoned in his life.

/What the hell could she do? She had a gun to her head. /

The fact that she had just left him out there to fend for himself hurt more than getting the very life squeezed out of him. He wondered more than ever if Scully really was at his side.

/This is worse than sitting at home. /

Looking up at the ink black sky Mulder rubbed his temples and angrily tossed back his wet hair. Still the frustration and indecision was almost overpowering.

"Fuck it."

He decided that he had, had enough and moved to get up. His tortured muscles protested indignantly. The popping of his knees echoed off the wet pavement as he stretched and began the walk back to his apartment. When he finally made it back he shed his wet clothes, took a quick shower and stretched out on the couch. Hoping that it was late enough and that he had exhausted himself enough to sleep. For once it actually worked. Mulder managed to stay asleep right through to the morning. He got up torn between being glad that it was Monday and he could go back to work and being uncomfortable with the thought of having to be with Scully all day. It wasn't that he disliked being with her the problem was the reverse. Inside he just knew that she saw him as nothing more than her partner and friend. That tore at his heart to know she didn't feel for him what he felt for her and there was no getting away from it. No matter what he told himself, no matter what he did he felt the pain, with Scully or away from her.

XXXXXXXX

As usual Mulder beat Scully into the office and was into full swing by the time she hit the door. He managed to stay sufficiently busy all day thus making sure she'd leave him alone.

/Great Mulder's in full grouch mode today. /

After asking him a simple question and getting nothing more than a grunt in reply. She decided she had enough of his pouting. She walked around the front of his desk, leaning over him so he'd have no other choice but to acknowledge her. That was something she detested more than his pouting, when he ignored her it made her feel just like a kid again. Her brothers had made her feel insignificant repeatedly while growing up. She promised herself that as an adult she wouldn't let anyone make her feel insignificant. Since her brothers no one had been able to make her feel that way like Mulder could. So now every time he did it she had the overwhelming imperative to snap him in line.

"Mulder, I asked you for your half of the figures on this month's expense report. It's due to accounting today and I'd like to get reimbursed on time."

Mulder swiveled his chair around to face his partner who was now staring at him like a bird of prey. Leaning over his desk asserting her dominance, and wearing her patented 'Mulder, don't give me any shit' look. He absently wondered if she really wanted to get into a pissing contest now. The way he felt at the moment he'd have no problem obliging her. But then again from the look in her eyes, her's might be bigger than his today. He turned back to his computer. If she could stand there making him more uncomfortable by the minute then he could at least have a little fun.

"It's printing up now Scully." He got up and brushed quickly past her and snatched the report from the printer. "Incidentally my figures have been done since Friday."

He dropped the paper in her hands and then proceeded to cocoon himself back in the relative comfort of his work. Scully for her part quietly seethed biting her lip to keep from giving him the thrashing he was begging for.

"Fine and I suppose you want me to turn in the report as usual."

Mulder looked back at her over the top of his glasses, "Since you're offering."

Scully snorted in disgust. "It was a rhetorical question Mulder, it didn't really need a response." She didn't wait for a comeback to that one, she just picked up her files and shoved them into her briefcase and headed out the door.

After she left he tried to stay busy, he actually got some work done. However what he managed to do was probably half-assed at best, but he could go back over it later. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, he was tired and things couldn't go on like this forever. He glanced over at his watch 4:42; Scully had been gone for over an hour; she'd probably be back any minute now unless she had to go over the report line by line. Knowing those penny-pinchers that's what she probably had to do, especially with his figures. She would NOT be Little Miss Sunshine when she came back. To put it lightly she'd be mad as hell and she'd grind him to mush. She'd prove once and for all who was the alpha male and as far as Mulder was concerned he did not want to be around for that. So he did what any other man with sense would've done; he grabbed his basketball gear and headed over to the gym.