Hi,
So this is set on the present day (before the revival), I'm only on season seven, so I don't really know what happened on the last two seasons, but I tried my best to make it as real and canon as possible.
Also, I was listening to "Possibility" by Lykke Li and the album "For Emma, Forever Ago" by Bon Iver while writing it, so you might want to check them out to add more emotions to the story.
Hope you liked it.
Thank you Nic for helping me write this and giving me new ideas to add. And thank you Kimmy for beta-ing and for your advices!
To Noho On The Rojo squad, ily guys :)
Love, Dami.
This isn't a goodbye.
She didn't realize at first. She had heard the noise, and felt the pressure; she had seen the look of horror in his eyes, but hadn't realized it. It was almost as if she was dreaming, as if she was still on their bed, sleeping, and this was a nightmare. It wasn't until she touched her stomach, looked down, saw and felt the warm substance that she realized she was bleeding.
It didn't hurt, not at all; she was numb, her whole body was numb, so she knew something was off, she knew feeling nothing was an alarm that something – beside the fact that she was shot – was wrong.
She tried to stay up but her legs betrayed her and she fell to the floor.
"Scully!" He cried, running to her.
The ground was wet, since it had rained all night and day, but it wasn't raining anymore and she hadn't felt the cold or the wetness. She hadn't felt anything.
"Scully!" He screamed reaching her. "It's okay. It's okay." He lifted her head from the wet floor into his lap and wrapped her between his arms. "I'm getting you out of here, don't worry. It's okay."
"Mulder –" her voice was raspy and weak.
"It's okay, Scully, try not to talk. Concentrate on your breathing; I'm getting you out of here" He repeated again.
"I'm fine," she assured.
"You are not fine, Scully, you were shot!" He said looking around, probably trying to find the person who shot her.
He looked down at her; he looked at her right in the eyes. "We have to stop the bleeding – how do I stop the bleeding?"
It was hard for her to think straight, she felt as if she was flooding, "Apply pressure."
Mulder looked around for something to use but his eyes couldn't catch anything; he grabbed his shirt and ripped it in half, and then he applied pressure to her wound.
"I have to get you out of here," he whispered, loud enough for her to hear.
He grabbed her in his arms and lifted her.
And then it hit her.
The pain was surreal; her head swam dizzily; her vision blurred over tears that formed in her eyes; a gut wrenching screamed ripped from her throat warning Mulder to stop doing whatever he was doing.
"Are you okay?" his voice was full of panic and fear.
"I'm fine," She said breathlessly, almost as if she just finished running a race.
He carefully laid her on the car backseat. "Just hold on, okay?" He smiled tenderly.
Mulder quickly turned around the car and got into the driver seat. He turned the key but the engine didn't start. He tried again but nothing happened.
"No, no, no. Damnit!" He was almost screaming. "The car broke down but I'm calling the ambulance. Just hold on, okay?"
She nodded like a small child. He reached his phone in his pocket and desperately called for help.
"They're on their way," Mulder joined her in the backseat and fit her head on his lap, as if it was a normal day and they were watching a movie on their couch.
He looked down at her; she seemed so small, so fragile; he had never seen her like this. She had always been the strong one and seeing her like this and not being able to ease her pain was breaking him.
"Close your eyes, Scully. Close your eyes and imagine you are in no pain." He said "We are in our house; the weather is warm, you can feel the wind on your face, just the way you like it; you are free, you are fine. Everything is fine." He grabbed her hand. His voice was no longer filled with panic, it was soft, almost as if they were casually talking about the weather, "You open your eyes and you can see him; you can see him playing in our backyard. He has your eyes, your exact same eyes, you can see the sky on them, and he has my hair color. He is so happy, Scully. You are so happy."
Scully smiled through the pain, letting the images playing in her head like a movie. "We are so happy, Mulder," she whispered.
"And he comes to hug you, he is so small – just like his mother," he chuckled. "And you can't stop smiling because you are thinking that you finally have our son in your arms. You have your bullfrog." He had tears in his eyes by now.
She smiled; she held onto that picture, she wanted it so badly to be true; she wanted to close her eyes and see her son again. But she knew it wasn't possible, she knew it wasn't real, no matter how hard she wanted it to be.
"You would have been a great father, you know?" She whispered; her eyes filled with tears, both for her physical and emotional pain. "You would have filled his head with all your aliens' theories and gave him t-shirt of UFO's and in his room there would be an 'I Want to Believe' poster."
"And you would be skeptically sighing in the back saying 'Aliens aren't real, William!'" They both laughed.
A painful sound escaped from her mouth. "I shouldn't have done that." She mumbled.
Mulder pressed her injury and she let a small shriek. "I'm sorry," he muttered.
After a moment of silence where the only noise was her hard breathing, he said: "You would have been an excellent mother too" His voice was thick, full of emotion. His mind was full of memories from when she was pregnant and when she had baby William in her arms.
The pain was getting worse and worse with each breath she took and she kept bleeding no matter how much pressure they added to the wound. They were running out of time; she was running out of time.
She knew what was about to happen, and she would be lying if she said she didn't feel a bit of remorse and anger; anger because it was so unfair for her to die this way, in the hands of some crazy man who happened to carry a gun; anger because her life was over now; her projects, her career, her family, Mulder, William. She felt remorse for not being able to watch her son grow up; remorse because every chance she had to make it up to him for giving him away – even if it was for his own safety – was gone now.
"Mulder–" Her voice was trembling,
"Its okay, Scully, the ambulance will be here any minute."
"I'm… sorry… Mulder"
"Shhh… Scully, don't talk, concentrate on your breathing, it's okay."
"Mulder… please…" she could hardly speak, she was using all the strength she had left, "please… when you... meet William… please… tell him… I'm sorry… I'm not… there… and that… I love… him…" Tears started to stream down her face; she couldn't see clearly; she couldn't hear clearly; everything was distorted; she was distorted.
"Scully, you are not going anywhere. When I meet William you will be there with me, you are not going anywhere." Mulder squeezed her hand and kissed softly her forehead. "You are going to be just fine."
"Mulder… I can't… breathe…" she cried again.
This wasn't supposed to happen; this wasn't supposed to be the end. But it was. It was her end; she knew she wouldn't make it through to meet her little boy; she wouldn't even make it through the ambulance.
"Listen to me, Scully. You are not going anywhere. I won't let you," he said firmly.
"It's… okay," she whispered.
She closed her eyes, picturing her little boy in her head. Yes, he had her eyes and he probably had Mulder's hair and his attitude. She wondered if he was healthy. She hoped the tests they have done to her wouldn't have affected him; she hoped he was healthy, safe and happy wherever he was.
"No! Open your eyes Scully! You don't get to go! Not now! Not ever! Don't you dare to go, don't you dare leave me, Scully!"
"Mulder… It's… alright…" said Scully holding her breath and squeezing his hand.
"No," He whispered letting her hand go. "No," he repeated again more loudly, "No Scully!"
The blood kept leaving her tiny body, creating a puddle around them. He pressed the injury but it wasn't doing any good.
He couldn't believe this was happening.
It couldn't happen.
Not to her.
Not to his Scully.
Not now.
Not ever.
He couldn't let her die. He couldn't lose her. He couldn't give up on her, because if he did, if he let her die, then he would die too.
"No, Scully. You don't get to go," He raised his voice, "You don't get to leave me. You don't give up so easily. You fight. You fight back and you win. Please, Scully, fight back. Please, don't leave me," His voice was now a heartbreaking whisper. "Please don't leave me, you can't leave me," he cried. "Please Scully, what am I going to do without you?!" He brought their hands together and held onto it as if his life depended on it, when it was probably the other way around.
"Mul-der… kiss… me." She was crying now.
They both were.
He came closer to her, stopped pressing her wound and brought one of his hands to her face while the other one was still enlaced with hers.
"I… love... you…" she sobbed.
"This isn't a goodbye," he mumbled near her mouth, and then he softly pressed their lips together.
However, it was. It was a goodbye.
Six Months later.
"This isn't a goodbye," he had said to her. It was a promise. It was a promise to her and himself. He had promised himself he wouldn't let her go; he wouldn't lose her. It was their promise.
He had pressed his lips to hers and kissed her, kissed her as hard as possible but at the same time it was a tender and chaste kiss. That kiss was the sealer of the promise.
But some promises are not meant be keep.
"Scully!" He had screamed to her, shaking her motionless body. They were lying on the backseat of his car, blood everywhere around them. "Wake up, Scully!" But Scully hadn't move. She hadn't reacted. She was gone. "Don't go, please Scully! I need you." And he had cried. He had cried more than he had ever cried in his whole life.
After that came the darkness.
Everything went dark.
Eventually the ambulance had come, but it was too late. She was gone already. Someone had put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him from doing something stupid. That was it. That was the end.
His memories of that night, of what happened after that were a blur play. He wouldn't be able to recall anything, even if he wanted to.
That was the darkest and longest night of his life. He had repressed that night from his mind, the memories were too painful.
The noise of the alarm on his nightstand woke him up.
"Scully," he mumbled and stretched his arm on her side of the bed.
She wasn't there.
Of course she wouldn't be there.
On those rare occasions when she had to go earlier, she would have left notes on her pillow so when he woke up he would find them. But not anymore. She would never leave notes again.
He turned around and curled himself tightly on her side of the bed; he could swear her fragrance was still on the pillows. He absorbed what was left of it.
This was another morning he woke up alone. This was just another morning without her.
Slowly, he got up from bed and got dressed. It was almost automatic; it was like a slow motion movie.
He was walking through the corridor when he smelt the coffee on the air. He smiled and fastened his pace, hoping to find her there. But she wasn't there.
Of course she wouldn't be there.
He let out a long sigh, went to the front garden and picked up a bunch of flowers: orchids, Scully's favorites. He came back to the kitchen and put the flowers in a jar, enjoying the sweet smell. Scully would love it. He poured one cup of coffee for him and one cup of coffee for her. Black and no sugar, just the way she liked it. Then he sat down waiting for her to return.
The noise of a car reaching the porch brought Mulder out of his thoughts. He looked up through the window and saw them.
William got out of the car laughing, which made Mulder grin. When Mulder met him for the first time, half a year ago, he couldn't believe how much he looked like her. Yes, William did look a lot like Mulder but whenever Mulder looked at him he saw Scully. William had Scully's eyes, her smile, her freckles, her height, he even had her same facial expressions and her sarcasm; he was the living portrait of his mother.
His little boy, their little boy was going to turn 13 next month. Maybe they weren't able to raise him, but they are here now and they love him with all their beings and that's what matters, to Mulder, at least.
Mulder opened the front door and rested his side on the frame watching them.
"Hi, dad!" the little boy greeted him wildly waving his hand. He came running to Mulder and hugged him.
"Hey, kid!" He said grinning from ear to ear, "how was camp?"
"It was great! We had so much fun!" William beamed at him while still hugging him. "I've missed you."
To be fair, Mulder never thought William would have accepted him since the beginning, let alone to call him "dad" or tell Mulder he had missed him; Mulder thought his son would hate him; he was ready to be rejected but he find himself feeling so loved by this little man.
Mulder knelt in front of him and looked at him. "I've missed you too."
The boy was wearing the cross that used to be Scully's, Mulder would've recognize it anywhere. He was so happy William could have something that belonged to his mother.
Mulder smiled at the memory of when William first held it and wore it, he was so happy for being able to share something with her. William hugged him one more time and went running to the inside, carrying his enormous backpack.
Mulder got up and rest his back on the frame again, watching her as she approached him.
"And what about me?" she asked with a smirk, carrying William's other bag.
"You were only out for the morning." He sassed.
"But I know you've missed me anyway, Mulder." She reached his side and let the bag on the floor.
"You are overreaching yourself, Scully" He replied wrapping his arms around her.
"Oh, yeah? I bet that when you woke up you went to my side of the bed and smell my shampoo"
"I did not!" He said. She gave him an amusing look. "Well, maybe…"
They laughed at unison, their bodies embracing one another. He held her in his arms and he didn't want to let her go. He had done that once, he would never do that again.
"I had a nightmare" he confessed.
"What was it about?" she asked bringing her hands to his hair.
"I dreamed about that night again," he cupped her cheeks. "And how I thought I had lost you."
"You will never lose me." She said in a slow, tricky voice, tangling her hands into his hair "I will always be here. I won't ever leave you. I promise you." She smiled with watery eyes.
She pressed her lips to his, and they were that way for a long time, standing on their small porch, holding each other in their arms; bodies pressed together, lips united.
"I love you, Mulder." She whispered into his mouth.
"I love you too, Scully." He squeezed her tiny body.
"Mom! Dad! Come here! I want to show you something!" called William, from the inside of the house.
Their little boy was with them. They were together. They were a family. Everything was in its right place.
"Coming!" Scully called back. She beamed at Mulder, enlaced their hands together and led him into their home, to William, to their not-so-little boy.
End.
Thoughts?