Getaway, a x-files fanfic

Disclaimer : Alright, alright...I don't own these incredible characters. Chris Carter does. Happy?

Notes : Angst, evidently, is my thing. I love angst. Some people think you can have too much angst, I, however, am NOT one of those people. Moohaha! XD Anyway, this was written with some inspiration of Train's Drops of Jupiter CD, my friend Beth, and how Scully's angst at the end of season 7 and most of season 8 was just completely heartbreaking to me. This I suppose takes place around the middle of s8. The italics are basically Scully's thoughts/flashbacks in case there were any misunderstandings. The title is taken from a Train song of the same name.

Ohh, and I think I talked to one or two of you about posting up more Doggett/Reyes fanfic. I have another chapter DR fic I'll start posting up soon. Thanks for your support. :D

------------------------

The desert sun was set low in the sky, spreading a searing heat across the stretch of lonely plane. Blue eyes squinted in anguish stared blankly at the road ahead, full tears with empty meaning spilling down the face which held them. Though she was driving fast, desperate for release from this burden on her heart, the nothingness surrounding Dana Scully did not seem to change, to improve from the complete and utter, never-ending oblivion which had imprisioned her for so very long.

Her head was pulsing again with an overwhelming pain, her beautiful eyes that held all the hues of a summer sky had lost their life, were now filled with tears of heartbreak. Full lips, scarlet as the velvet petals of an innocent red rose, seemed so pale somehow as they pressed together in a vain attempt to keep more of her soul from pouring out. The gulps of air that choked their way into her lungs were ragged, weary, unwilling to take in another. If breathing had not been involentary, she may have stopped altogether. It was getting too painful to breathe, knowing that it was life when she felt so far from it.

She was tired and it seemed her life was forever dragging on in perpetual circles of regret. He was always, always on her mind...

He stirred beside her. Her eyes were open, and had been for what seemed like forever now. They watched him sleep peacefully with a gentle protectiveness, holding all the curves of his face and body in their depths.

Seeing his cheek quietly brush against the cotton pillow as he stirred, and his forehead furrow slightly in thought as if even in sleep his incredible mind was working to resolve all those unanswered questions that plagued him constantly, she brought her hand close to his neck and ran her fingers through his soft and slightly sweat-dampened hair. A broad smile settled on her lips and she rested that hand on his cheek. He was so beautiful like this...

The speed of the vehicle intensified as Dana pressed the gas pedal harder, angry that it was becoming rapidly clearer that no matter how fast she drove, she felt no relief. A single crystal tear fell and shattered onto the hand that gripped the steering wheel so desperately.

His flawless hazel eyes...those precious windows into his soul which were always so gaurded until they met hers haunted her constantly. She could still feel those eyes on her, those eyes whose lingering stare had so many times spoken to her more words and feelings than a sea of stories and poems ever could.

Blue-green eyes fluttered open sleepily, wondering what had woken him. Once they saw his rouser, they blinked lazily, happily, a few times before the rest of his face broke into a warm grin to match hers.

"Hey." He said, voice raspy with sleep.

"Hey." Her smile grew bigger, showing white teeth that contrasted red lips. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay." He murmured back, and after a moment felt her hand on his cheek and moved his head just slightly beneath it to capture a fingertip between his lips. And she stared into his eyes.

It had been months now. Inevitably, reassignment had come and when the bureau felt she had had enough time to grieve, they sent her back to work with John Doggett.

For a long time she believed Mulder would come back. She thought that it was just a matter of time, and when he did come back, as he had miraculously done so many times before, she would just smile and shake her head when he asked if she had missed him.

But she did miss him. So badly that it seemed the world didn't make sense anymore, not if she couldn't hear his voice or feel his touch. Not if she couldn't watch him sleep; the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he took another breath, not if she would never see his face again.

"I was watching you sleep and I couldn't help myself." Amusement laced her voice.

"I'm glad you find me so irrisistable," he replied in the same amused tone, "it does wonders for my ego."

She laughed softly and broke her gaze for the first time to glance out the open window through which a warm summer breeze was gently blowing through.

So many millions of shimmering white stars dotted the heavens, which were cloaked in a rich, dark blue tonight. The constellations were clear and Dana could see a well-defined Orion's Belt and Little Dipper by her partial view outside Mulder's window. The moon was an intense, smoothly curved blade of white-blue silver, accenting the sheets she and Mulder were tangled in in an unearthly glow of those same incandescent colors.

"Scully?"

Mulder's voice made her turn away from the stars and she set her blue eyes on a different, but equally beautiful view.

"You okay?" He asked with a small smile.

She blinked, then sighed, and slid her hand slowly from his cheek to his shoulder. "Yeah. I'm fine, Mulder. More than fine." She returned the smile.

More tears fell...

...a racked sob escaped Dana's mouth and she slammed on the breaks, burrying her head in her hands.

Nodding barely, with an index finger he swept a lock of honey-red hair from her eyes and grabbed her wrists firmly, pulling her close.

She laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes, breathing him in. His skin was still slick with sweat from a few hours ago. That, and the exposure to the hot, humid air of Washington D.C. at midnight.

She could feel him breathing into her hair as he rested his chin there, and could hear his heartbeat.

The air he expelled blew an icy trail that she could feel down the hot skin of her bare back, and she shivered pleasantly at the sensation.

"Mulder?" She half-whispered after a moment.

"Hm?"

"I don't want to leave this. I don't want it to end." Her hand gripped at his side, as if afraid speaking these words may have some hidden jinx to spin them around on her and make her realize that this was only a dream...one that she could be waking from at any precious moment.

"Me neither." His voice was quiet, completely truthful, and slightly indistinct. Faraway.

"I don't...know why..." Dana began again after a silence, "but I keep having this strange feeling that something is going to tear us apart. Something will take you away from me. We're living too dangerously, Mulder. ...It terrifies me." A sadness and fear tainted her voice now, though it was still slow and calm.

"I won't let that happen, Scully."

In her silence he felt her fear. He shared her fear.

"Is this the price you're willing to pay for the truth?" She questioned softly.

"I won't let anything happen, Scully." He repeated. "I need you too much."

His hand ran across her bare thigh and she let out a slow take of breath, her heart beginning to race.

"Then tell me, Mulder. Promise me. Promise that you won't leave me."

A beautiful western sunset had begun to cloak the deserted landscape in warm Indian shades of red and orange; it looked as if the sky was a steadily burning fire and not a sky at all.

A lock of soft red hair fell across Dana's face as she ran her hands through it, pulling it back, trying to suffocate her sobs and feeling ashamed and angry that she had let this go so far, had let it take her over so completely. She couldn't help that she missed him so desperately, couldn't help the feelings that taunted her, hissing into her ear all those things she could have done to prevent this.

And that was when the realization struck her, hard like a steel arrow to her heart. She couldn't have done a damn thing to prevent this. It was their fault, their fault for ruining both their lives, for denying and destroying the truths that Mulder had worked so hard for, for never believing in him, for never playing by the rules and knowing there wasn't a damn thing they could do about it...

It was their fault for taking him away. It was their fault that her heart was shattering inside her very chest and that she couldn't even stand to feel the touch of her partner's or her mother's or anyone's hand as they tried to reach out to her with their sympathy without thinking about him...

"Then tell me, Mulder. Promise me. Promise that you won't leave me."

Her hands wanted so badly to touch him as she had that night, her arms so wanted to wrap him up in their embrace and her lips wanted to trail his skin and speak to him the words that would tell him how much he meant to her.

She just wanted that night back...

She sat up and looked him in the eye, paused, then rose up to a kneeling position. His hands came to her hips and moved with them as she straddled his stomach, one knee pressing into the soft matress on either side.

He never broke her eye contact, and his heart was racing in concert with hers.

With her hair falling into her face, she leaned in and kissed his stomach. She felt his muscles clentching beneath her lips as he held his breath and closed his eyes.

...She wanted him back. Her mind was buzzing with words and prayers, jumbled and desperate almost unrecognizable...

...Please, God, please...someone, anyone...I need him, please bring him back...I'll do anything -- I need to see him again, I need to see his face...

And the memory continued to flood her head no matter how her mind screamed for it to stop...

"Promise me." She repeated, breath hot and voice becoming breathless as her heart beats increased ten-fold.

A helpless pant escaped Mulder's throat, and he could only grip and run his fingers though her soft, damp hair while she showered him with intimate kisses.

"I promise," he breathed. "I promise, I promise, I promise..."

Dana's eyes clentched tightly shut, her mind battling with the unspoken words and pleas that made for a piercing static above these vivid flashbacks...

Seconds turned into minutes, which ticked by so slowly they might have stopped altogether...

She moved closer to him, her body hungry and aching for what his could give it.

And he did, until she breathed his name into his neck, and he with hers, and the fire that blazed searing in their viens became an ecstasy they desperatley held onto until it gradually slipped away, like a weary sun who shined too bright sinking below the horizon.

Slowly, after the tears began to eventually cease, Dana opened the door and stepped quietly out onto the ground. The sand she stood on was golden- brown and rolled on for miles and miles, flowed up across smooth sand dunes and streched all the way to the plateaus in the distance and beyond that. Her weary eyes, strained and red though the blue was still clear and distinct, were still flilled with tears as they watched the sunset. A few moments later she bowed her head to her chest and closed her eyes, leaning her back against the warm hood of the car.

How much more of this was she going to be able to take? How much more, without feeling like she was being slowly suffocated?

Would this pain ever pass?

She took a deep breath, the first real one in days, and looked again to the sky. One hand came to her stomach and rested gently on her abdomen. This had to stop. It wasn't only herself she was hurting anymore.

Her index finger slid down his gently. She grabbed ahold of his wrist firmly with her four other fingers, and guided their arms straight out. She stopped them at a slant, pointing to the sky outside the open window.

"See those stars, Mulder? They shine for you."

Smiling softly into his hair, she placed a kiss to his temple. His head was nestled comfortably beneath her chin as she rested it there.

"They shine for you because you're the only person who believes in their power. You're the only person who ever could."

Mulder's arm brought her's down along with it and he gave it a small squeeze before letting it go to rest on the cool white sheets. Slowly his head turned around until he was looking into her crystal eyes. Eyes he could see their future in.

"I'm wondering when you'll ever truly know how much I need you, Scully..." he whispered softly.

"I think I already know..." she murmured back, closing her eyes as she felt his lips move over her neck and the top of her breast...

"Mulder..."

But nothing made sense anymore. She was barely living inside her own head. She hated the fake world around her, the fake happiness she saw in the eyes of her friends and family.

Dana had not removed her hand from her lower stomach. She had not told anyone about this miracle, this life growing inside of her.

It was amazing how faith could betray you in so many ways, and then give you something like this. It was hard to decide on whether to hold onto your past or keep your future once it was in arms reach. Like following your head instead of your heart, or maybe it was the other way around.

She didn't know. How do you determine something like that? How do you make the right choice? Medical school did not teach her this, and science could not help her here, nor could faith. The two things she had built her whole life on. How could anything help her now, when she felt so hollow inside?

Dana brought a hand to her neck, fingers gliding over the cold, metal chain until they came to rest on the small golden pennant that dangled from it.

Nothing mattered. Nothing made sense. She had neither the strength nor voice to ask for help anymore... and she had long since exhausted them.

Once Mulder had told her that dreams were the answers to the questions we've not yet leanred how to ask.

She had been dreaming a lot these past months. About him, about life and what it meant to exist in this world. She needed and wanted those answers to become clear to her, so why was she so afraid to ask what was needed to be asked in order to see them?

Everything was so wrong and complicated. If he would just come back to her, to the life he had left behind...

Her tired fingers ran along the smooth, golden cross as if asking or begging from it some comfort, some consolance or release that would never come.

Sometimes she wanted to hate him. Hate him for all of those promises he had made and then turned right around and shattered them into lies without so much as an explanation, leaving the broken pieces on the floor for her to stare at and wonder how to put them back together again.

Why go on living like this? Hell, why go on living at all?

Because, something in the back of her mind told her, why die? Nothing would change. She would still be alone. Mulder's promise would still be broken. Would there be anyone to forgive or condem her if she chose not to continue living in this existence, to give birth to this child?

Live or die. All of life came down to those two choices. Love, trust, loyalty, politics, science, faith, friends, family, morals, mind, body...those were just obstacles and complications along the way.

Live or die.

Was there a right or wrong choice?

Suddenly Dana's hand yanked hard on the fragile golden chain, and it slowly slid from her neck as if it was her very soul melting away from her body.

With a dry sob, she clentched that hand into an angry fist and threw the chain and meaningless crucifix with all the false-hope it now carried as far and as hard as she could.

She didn't bother to see where it landed. It was over. Nothing would ever be the same. She would never be the same.