This is the End
By ShinySherlock
Date Written: 18 Jan 1999
Spoilers: none
Rated: PG
Category: VRA
Keywords: Samantha, Mulder-Scully romance
Summary: My version of how the series might end someday.
Distribution: Archive anywhere. Previously sent out on XAngst Anonymous
and eXtreme Possibilities.
Disclaimer: Characters herein belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions
and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended and no profit
being made from their use.
A response to MaryKate's challenge to write what would be the very last scene of the X-Files. (I couldn't do it in *one* scene, but it is short.)
This Is The End.
by ShinySherlock
NEW YEAR'S EVE, 1999.
It was raining that night. Hard. He had opened the door just long enough to let the two women in, then threw it shut behind them to keep out the wind.
Scully said something.
He stared.
She had never been so angry at him. EVER. He was just STANDING there. Not reacting in any way.
"Mulder, did you hear what I said?" Scully asked.
He blinked.
The woman beside her looked first at him, then back at Scully: Scully, who was drenched in rain and covered up to her knees in mud. Scully, whose hair was plastered to her head in soggy mats, and whose blue eyes flashed at Mulder in the dimness of the cabin.
He exhaled.
He reached for the back of a chair to steady himself, and his arm hugged his stomach protectively.
He managed to speak after a moment. "Are you sure?" he croaked out, his eyes steadily meeting her gaze.
Her expression softened. "I wouldn't say it unless I was absolutely certain."
He sank.
His knees wobbled and failed him, and he found himself on the floor, breathing raggedly. Scully was at his side in an instant, and motioned for the woman to follow. Together, they helped him to the couch nearby and sat on either side of him.
He controlled his breathing and summoned the courage to look up into the soft, brown eyes of his sister. Different, yet so familiar: the curve of her jaw, the shape of her nose, the long, doe-like eyelashes. He reached out
his hand hesitantly, and let his fingers run along her cheek.
"It's really you," he whispered.
"Yes," she answered strongly, swallowing back her tears.
He pulled her into an embrace that released 30 years of pain.
Scully showered in the bathroom of the little lakeshore cabin by candle light. The power had been knocked out hours ago by the storm. She hadn't wanted to leave Mulder alone, but knew that he needed privacy with his sister.
The warm water washed away her layers of rain, dirt, and blood, and strangely, she felt herself begin to cry. Stranger still, she let herself sob into the water, leaning against the tile wall for support.
Scully felt more renewed than she could express. Layers of tension and weariness had been stripped away, and though she and Mulder had been together for nearly a decade, she felt like everything was fresh and new to her again.
She wandered out into the living room, her burgundy robe cinched at her waist and her bare feet leaving damp footprints on the hardwood floor.
He sat in silence on the couch.
"Where's Sam?" she asked softly, coming to stand behind him.
"Asleep," he answered in the same hushed tone.
"How are you?" she asked, her hand slipping to his shoulder.
"Hmm." he lowered his head a little. "I'm okay."
His hand reached up to clasp hers gently at first, then with a firmness that told her exactly how affected he was. She squeezed back, and bent her head towards his, and in a fluid movement he pulled her down, over the back of the couch, and cradled her in his lap.
She held him close, and his face burrowed into her towel-dried wavy hair.
"I couldn't have found her without you, you know that," he whispered urgently into her ear.
"Of course you would have," she assured him, shifting her body to press herself closer to him, as close as possible. She wanted to be inside him, surrounded by him.
He intensified his grip. "I would have self-destructed long before now."
She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. It's over now, Mulder." She snuggled into his neck, sighing a little as she did. "It's over."
He pulled back from her embrace for a moment and she almost pouted at the loss of contact.
"What's over?" he asked warily.
She knit her brow at him in confusion. "You've got her back."
He considered this. "What about the Truth, Scully? What about the Answers?" he asked quietly and without much conviction.
"They were always elusive, unrealistic goals for us," Dana reasoned softly, her right hand fingering the collar of his shirt. She pressed her palm against his heart, then met his questioning eyes.
"No answer would be good enough for what they've done," she said evenly. She saw agreement in his eyes. "Besides," she continued. "It was part of the deal. Giving up our work with the x-files in return for
your sister," Dana concluded, shocking him for the second time that hour. He stared at her thoughtfully.
"You traded my mind for my heart?" he asked, his expression unclear to her.
"Yes," she answered directly.
"Good choice," he said, and watched her sigh from relief. She sank into his embrace again, and he received her, an envelope of warmth around her.
Scully felt his hands soothe her back and his breath steamed at her neck.
The warning rush of blood as she moved closer against him brought new questions to her mind. Were *they* over? Was this need to be with him, to be held by him, a reluctance to let the past go? What new beginning of their own were they moving towards?
She realized that he had stopped moving his hands on her back, and he leaned into her neck like a drunkard.
"Mulder?" she said softly, with a questioning tone.
"Hmm," he replied, seeming to hold his breath.
"What are you doing?" she asked, pulling back slightly to see his face. The desire evident in his expression surprised and aroused her at the same moment, and she felt herself drawn to him more for the blatant
admission of want in his eyes.
"I'm... trying not to kiss you," came the hoarse reply. She stared at him, sure that her arousal was as clear on her features as his, and almost daring him to make the first move.
"Why -"
Mulder interrupted her by closing the gap between them and kissing her hard. They closed their eyes and gripped each other in a half-frantic embrace. Fingers found hair to tangle in, searing lips met again and again in a bruising urgency, and blood surged through their veins with clear intent.
As suddenly as they had begun, they tore away from each other, both of them left red-faced and wide-eyed. They stared at each other for a moment, their arms still entangled around each other.
Mulder lowered his hands from her first.
Dana began to panic. Oh, God, just don't apologize, Mulder, just don't apologize.
"I'm - " Mulder stopped himself, biting off the end of his sentence. He set his jaw firmly. "I'm not sorry. About this. About any of it."
Scully smiled in spite of herself. "Neither am I."
He pulled her into his embrace again and attempted to kiss her, but an odd chuckle escaped his lips before he could connect with her.
"What?" Dana asked, moving to see his face.
He met her eyes and stopped grinning. "I've been anticipating this for so long that I'm half-shaking from being so nervous," he answered bashfully.
She smiled sympathetically, and his gaze gained strength from her reassurance. He lifted his hand to cup her smiling cheek, and focused on her clear, beautiful blue eyes.
"You're my life, Dana: you know that, don't you?"
The sincerity in his voice, the tenderness in his touch brought her instantly near tears, and she had to swallow before answering him. "I know," she murmured, snuggling her face into his hand. "I know."
She felt the need to confess to him the same feeling, but the only thought in her heart was achingly unoriginal. I love you I love you I love you I love you pounded against her lips until she thought she might burst.
"I love you," she said quickly, surging towards him, holding him tightly against her body, and letting the tears flow again from her eyes.
He laughed at her rushed admission and settled her into the curves of his own body.
They could take it slow now, he thought. There would be time for everything now.
When he kissed her again it was slow and deliberate, allowing her to know him this way for the first time with a savoring certainty.
He wanted her to feel safe. Loved.
She understood perfectly.
The End.
Author's note: I must give credit to my husband for the kissing scene: it was his idea.