AN: Hey, folks. This is a story that was done round-robin style way back in the summer of '98. I don't even know what has become of the other authors of this little fic but I still want to share it with you all. This is also an 'as is' story. My writing style has changed a little since this was written and I thought about touching it up, but I thought, nah, it's a symbol of youth and I really don't remember which parts are mine. Oh well, enjoy.
Disclaimer: The X-Files, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully are all property of CC and Ten Thirteen Productions. This story was written purely for the enjoyment of writing it. It was not written for profit of any kind. Any similarity it may have to stories, written by other authors, on the same subject is purely coincidental. Suing us will accomplish nothing, for The Truth Is Out There, and there would just be others to take our place. :-)
Spoilers: The X-Files: Fight The Future
Summary: This story explores how Scully and Mulder may have gotten back to DC after they had escaped from the alien ship in Antarctica.
Destination DCby Alice, Aryn, Betsy, Julie & Maria(me!)
Mulder slowly awoke to the cold and Scully shaking him. At first he couldn't remember where he was but then it slowly came back to him. Antarctica.
"Mulder . . ." Scully said weakly. "We need to get out of here. Let's go." Scully was still very weak. She was freezing in fact. The water that had clung to her body had turned to ice.
Mulder turned around and looked into his partner's blue eyes. He was trying to gather his thoughts, and trying to understand what had just happened.
Hell, Mulder, there is no time for that. Scully is freezing, and so are you. Just get moving, he said to himself. Mulder pulled himself up and then reached down to help Scully. They started walking, but Scully was too tired, too weak, and the vaccine was making her feel sick. She fell, and she fell again. But she knew she had to walk, Mulder was in no shape to carry her right now, and given a choice, she wouldn't let him.
Mulder's hands were freezing. He'd given the gloves to Scully, knowing that she needed the warmth more than he did after being in that cryo chamber for God knew how long. But now his numbing fingers were bright red, almost white, and well on their way to being frost bitten. The cold that invaded his hands worked its way through his body until he was trembling all over. Scully looked him over as she felt the tremors coming from his body. Her doctor's eyes caught his hands and she mentally berated herself for not noticing sooner.
"Mulder, give me your hands." She made to remove the gloves.
"No, Scully, you need those. I'll be ok." She gave a snort of derision.
"I don't think so. We'll share. Trade off the gloves every so many minutes." She drew her hands out of the gloves and shoved them on to Mulder's stiff finders. Her own hands were dry from being in the gloves, but that didn't save them from the absolute frigidity of the Antarctic air. She stuffed them in the pockets of the Anorak jacket. Mulder sighed silently as he helplessly accepted the gloves. He knew it wouldn't do him any good to protest. The gloves were warm, though, from being on Scully's hands. Gradually, the nerves came alive again, tingling with pain as they slowly absorbed the warmth. He groaned then waved off Scully's look of concern.
They were almost to the rocky ridges that separated them from the now fuelless snow-tractor. He didn't know, exactly, how they'd managed to get this far. Maybe it was just their unflagging sense of survival. He sure as hell couldn't guess what kept Scully upright, not to mention trudging through knee-deep snow, at his side. It seemed hopeless, but the x-files team didn't give up.
Scully stumbled along with Mulder, heading for the ridge. She didn't really know where they were headed, just that Mulder had picked the direction, and since she hadn't been conscious when she'd arrived, Mulder must have a better idea. She hoped. Her knees felt like they were going to buckle at any moment, but she firmly refused to let them. If they didn't get to some sort of shelter . . . What shelter? We're in the middle of Antarctica! Maybe the rocks could provide a windbreak. Maybe they could find something to build a fire with. Maybe Pegasus would swoop down and offer them a ride.
They stopped as soon as they reached the foot of the ridge. The wind came at their backs, so there was no respite. Together, they looked up the edifice they had to climb. The black face of the rock laughed at them, taunting them with defeat. Dark clouds loomed over it like an iron crown.
Mulder turned to Scully with naked pain in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words refused to emerge. She didn't have to hear them; she knew that he wanted to apologize. That he wanted to say how sorry he was that he couldn't get them out of this. She refused to accept that unspoken apology. Instead, she grabbed his arm and headed straight for the mocking rock.
Somewhere, deep within, Scully found the strength to continue. The energy to keep moving. She hissed through her teeth as her bare hands caught the sharp edges of the rock. Her entire body shook with the exertion to pull herself up to the next hand or foothold. Then Mulder's hands caught her foot and gave her the shove she needed. With that bit of momentum, she made it to a narrow shelf and turned to offer her hand to Mulder. With aching slowness, they made their way up their own Mount Everest. Fatigue whispered on the edge of every grip, every push, and was held at bay like a snarling dog, by shear will. Occasionally, they had to change course, forcing them to use more energy than they could spare.
The light was long gone from the sky, just a dim promise of it on a horizon they couldn't see. Still, they continued their climb. Scully grasped an edge and Mulder pushed her up. She started to turn back, to continue their chain, but stopped. She was at the top. The faint light from the north, like a band of glowing coals shimmering on a distant sea. Mulder's voice came from behind her.
"Hey, Scully? You ok?" She nodded then turned to him, realizing he couldn't see the sight that lay before her.
"Yeah." She reached down and he scrabbled up the final slope. He gasped when he saw what had entranced her. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
"Uh-huh." A tiny glimmer caught his eye from the ice plane below them. "Look." With his hands he guided her gaze to earth. The tiny spark of fire danced on the snow, reflecting itself.
It was like viewing the ship all over again, only this time Scully was able to share the experience with him. There was some irony in that. She was always so close, yet so far, from seeing the things that he had seen. Experiencing what he experienced. He realized that he had finally come to accept and expect that to happen. Her not having the same experiences is what had kept him grounded for so long. She was his strength and his anchor. And here she was, guiding him once again, even though he had come here to rescue her.
Mulder and Scully continued on down the ridge. As beautiful as the sight was, the sight of the snow-tractor was even more beautiful. It may be out of fuel, but it was shelter and Mulder distinctly recalled seeing an extra blanket stored in the back compartment.
It took them what felt like hours to reach the tractor, but finally they had reached it and were inside. He took the blanket, and wrapped it around Scully. Her face was pale, and Mulder had to ask himself how she could have survived two days in that freezing cryo-chamber. Sure, he knew she was strong, but still...
He realized that he still had the gloves on. He glanced at Scully's hands, and realized that they must have been freezing. So intent on reaching their destination, he had forgotten that she didn't have anything to keep her hands warm. Berating himself, he started removing the gloves.
"What are you doing Mulder?" she said, the exhaustion and weakness evident in her voice.
Not for the first time, Mulder felt the guilt overtake him. Maybe if I hadn't followed her into the hallway, if I'd just let her go...Maybe she would be at home right now. Not here, in the middle of nowhere, freezing.
Scully saw it in his face, understanding that he was, yet again, feeling guilty and responsible for the things that had happened to her since joining the X-Files. She had to say something. Make him understand that she had stayed on the X-Files because she had chosen to, no matter what the reason for doing so was.
"No, Mulder, please don't blame yourself. It's not your fault. No matter what you may think, you can't control fate. You cannot fight the future. You can only deal with what's in front of you. You could never have anticipated this."
Mulder turned around, amazed at how she could read him so easily. He realized then, how close they had become. He had become an open book to her. No one could read him like Scully could. And she was right, and he knew it. He didn't trust his voice, and being at a loss for words, he just smiled.
"What do we do now?" He could feel Scully's freezing hand on his shoulder. They sure as hell couldn't just sit there.
Mulder leaned over Scully and she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. He then reached behind her and pulled a small black box out from behind her. Scully's heart sank in disappointment that Mulder hadn't finished what he had started in the hallway outside his apartment. Looking at what he had pulled out, she realized that Mulder was holding a CB radio. He could call for help. They stared in speechless anticipation as Mulder's stiff fingers turned the knob to the 'on' position. Nothing happened. The battery had died. Mulder racked his brain. He couldn't remember if there were more batteries. They sat motionless, in silence each wondering, what next.
The silence didn't last very long as they were both quite cold and Mulder still had the gloves. While the cab provided ample protection from the howling wind, it had no heat of its own, and barely contained the body heat they gave off. Mulder sat at one end of the bench seat, with the gloves, and Scully was at the other end, bundled in the blanket Mulder had found. Knowing she would protest vigorously, given the chance, Mulder slyly removed the gloves behind the CB he'd been fiddling with. Then he caught her hands. Before she could utter a syllable of protest, the gloves had covered her chilled fingers.
"Mulder! You need those!" came after the fact. She glared at him, but the anger quickly faded to annoyed appreciation. Then she began her own covert mission. Like Mulder's had been, her mission was also to make sure that her partner was warm enough. She inched across the icy plastic seat until she was seated next to him. Then she took the blanket from around her shoulders. He tried to stop her, his hand holding the blanket back against her.
"Hey," he scolded, "You've been in cold storage for two days, Scully! Keep that on!"
She stared him down and proceeded to tuck one edge of the blanket between him and the side of the snow-tractor's cab. She then attempted to tuck it around her opposite side, but the blanket proved a bit too small for her plan. She frowned. Knowing that she wouldn't give up until her mission was accomplished, Mulder took the initiative. He grabbed Scully around the waist and deposited her between his legs, where his lap would have been. He then tucked the blanket around his opposite side. Scully had shifted sideways slightly, so that her cheek rested on his chest. In this position, she drifted into a light doze, her lullaby the soothing sound of his heartbeat. As she napped, Mulder kept his arms loosely around her waist, resting his chin in her hair. Slumber beckoned him, but he feared that neither of them would ever awaken if he answered its tempting call. Instead, he let his mind wander over various topics, all of which seemed to bring him back to one of four things: Scully, the X-Files, Samantha, or the predicament they were presently in. He gradually began to relax in the presence of Scully's steady breaths and her distinct, comforting scent.
According to his watch, it was an hour later when a sound that he could not immediately discern called him back to the present. After a moment of conscious reception, he picked out the rhythmic beat that had disturbed his reverie. Scully had felt him start and awoke quickly. She, too, heard the sound and craned her neck to see out the rear window. A slim shadow skimmed along the icy plain towards them.
"Guess the base wants their snow-tractor back." Mulder said.
He and Scully continued to peer out the back window at the object hurtling ever closer to their position. As quickly as was possible, with limbs stiff from inactivity and cold, they scrambled out of the cab and waved up at the approaching helicopter. The loose top snow billowed around them as the chopper came in for a landing. Mulder was relieved to see the emblem of the base on the door, rather than the solid black of those that had chased them in Texas. A figure jumped from the cockpit and hurried across the snow, bent to avoid blades that were four feet above his head. The person was a short, jovial man, well clothed in cold weather gear.
"Mister Mulder! We thought you was gone! When you didn't come back, we assumed you'd been caught in some catastrophe. What with the tremors and all. We came out flying to see what the damage was. See if you were hurt or somethin'. Maybe salvage the trac if possible. Glad to see you alive. Howdy, Ms." Where the hell did she come from? he thought. "What's a matter with the trac?"
"Out of gas!" Mulder had to yell over the thump-thump of the chopper's blades.
The man nodded then gestured toward the chopper. "Come on! Neither one of yous clothed for this weather. Get in the chopper and we'll send someone else out for the trac tomorrow."
Heaters had warmed the cockpit and Mulder and Scully were very thankful. A moment after take off, the man glanced back to look at Scully, and voiced what he had thought earlier. "Uh, where'd you come from anyways? Nothing out here but a lot of snow."
"Long story. Maybe when we get to base. Scully," he said, gesturing to his partner, "and I have had an exhausting couple of days." The man shrugged and left them in peace.
Mulder placed an arm around Scully and pulled her close. She laid her head on his chest and for the first time in days, truly rested in the arms of the person she trusted most with her life. And Mulder relaxed. Comforted in the knowledge that his partner, and best friend, was safe. For now.
End